Congratulations on Murdering Him with Your Ponytail!

You love kickboxing.  You’ve loved it since you were a little girl.  You’ve insisted on only dating kickboxers throughout your life, which has led to you dating a slew of incredible douchebags over the years, but starting early last week, all that changed.  You went on a date, just once, with a young man who was interested in a sport called “bases ball.”  And this young man, with his love of “bases ball,” listened politely while you discussed the finer points of trying to break a man’s neck with a thai kick.  He laughed.  He knew you were serious when you put him in a headlock in the parking lot as he walked you to your car, but he liked you all the same.

In the intervening days you’ve been on two dates.  They’ve both been quiet, neutral affairs where the two of you get to know each other better, the best dates of your life so far.  But there’s a problem: there hasn’t been a single kickboxing themed date, and that’s a dealbreaker for you.

So tonight you’re getting your new boy to come out with you to an underground cage fight.  You’ve informed him that you want to fight him in public, and he’s politely declared that he’s game to do so.  So tonight the two of you will square off in a basement ring formed out of crowd control barriers, you to prove your physical prowess, he to prove to a girl that he likes her.  You’re the girl in this situation, by the way.

The fight will begin amiably enough, with a few medium strength punches and kicks from you to him.  He’ll punch back genially, but he’ll have no idea how to fight.  After a few clumsy rounds, you’ll decide to kick it up and see if he has the killer instinct you’ve convinced yourself all men you date need to have that will allow you to justify your attraction to him.

You’ll begin whipping your ponytail during the fight, hoping to catch him at least a bit with some hair and, in doing so, cut him.  For you see, you’ve cleverly concealed a razor blade in your ponytail, much like that one guy in the cult kickboxing classic, Bloodsport!  It’s a terrible idea, and it doesn’t really do much in fights, but it makes you feel confident.

Today it’s going to all go wrong when your ponytail catches your new boy’s neck at just the right angle and the razorblade slices his jugular.  He’ll die in minutes, his blood spurting up and drenching you as you hold him and make soothing sounds as you wait for the end to come together.  After disposing of the body, you’ll head off to a fight club somewhere to pick up a personality-less, exercise crazed manchild to fuck the pain away.  For the first time, it will feel hollow.  You didn’t think you’d ever feel that way about someone so strongly so quickly, but you did and now it’s gone.

Congratulations on Murdering Him with Your Ponytail!

Congratulations on Enjoying Your Youth!

There are relatively few things on this earth that are truly universally reviled. Ticks, John Boehner, Jim Belushi and ranch dressing on French fries all seem like good bets, but even those sometimes have their exceptions. For example, birds like eating fattened ticks, really fucking stupid people who are easily manipulated like John Boehner, people with self-esteem issues feel better with Jim Belushi around and really dumb self-destructive people love ranch dressing on their French fries.

But no one, we mean no one, likes Junior High School. Even people who think they do are really just sadomasochists who spend most of their time devising new and horrible ways to spread their own self hate to others.

That’s why you, unlike every other person in America, are really going to enjoy your youth. This is because today, at the tender age of eight, you’re going to be traveling a plane which will crash land in the Yukon. Everyone on the plane except for yourself will be killed instantly on impact. You’ll drag yourself clear and be discovered by a pack of wolves who will raise you, teach you about the forest and one day, using connections with Jack London, get you into a relatively prestigious undergraduate university.

In raising you this way, in the frozen north, they’ll save you not only from starvation, but also from the terrors of other adolescent children beset by hormones, children prone to bouts of cruelty and malice for no reason other than the capricious chemistry within their bodies on that particular day. They’ll spare you junior high school. And so we feel not the slightest twinge of irony when we tell you Congratulations on Enjoying Your Youth!