Here's how it goes:
Say ten things, or twenty - no limit, that you would really like to say to someone's face but can’t or won’t. Don't identify who you are talking to.
OK, here goes:
1) Dude, what is up with this dancing thing? I have never seen anything like it in my life. You look like a cross between The Blues Brothers with that running in place thing that they used to do, and Elaine on Seinfeld with her horrific, jerky, stop-and-start, kick-out dance. The thing of it is, all of those people were professional comedians, whereas you, it appears, are a single man trying to pick up hot young girls who have had too much to drink and thus lowered their standards substantially. Now I see why so many hot girls are super careful not to drink too much while they're here. Clearly they are afraid they will wake up next to you and never be able to show their faces in public again out of shame. What the hell is wrong with you??
2) Listen, if one tattoo is good, a whole bucket of ink over your entire body is not necessarily better. When you came here almost a year ago you were so hot that you made men's penises burst into flames and their knees buckle and drop them to the ground. I'm not saying you aren't still hot. It's just that now you're hot with lots of pictures painted all over your smokin' body and we're sort of wondering if maybe something is wrong. Are you OK?
3) So let me see if I have this right. You make twice what I do, doing the same job only with less work because you're a VP. You're currently dating the former head stripper at The Pony, a girl who is both nice and intelligent enough to save her money so she can go to college rather than blowing it on crack or meth. You have the real names and phone numbers of every dancer in the place in your cell phone and they call to hang out with you whenever you want. You're single. You got much better results from working out with our crazy trainer than I did. You haven't lost a fortune in the stock market despite the fact that the entire rest of the freakin' world has. Everything pretty much goes your way without you having to make much effort. And yet you're not exactly happy? What the hell, man, I'll trade places with you if you want. I suspect you're just not thinking clearly.
4) Listen, if you don't tell me about your relationships, but I figured it out anyway. And if you don't tell me not to say anything about it, so in a moment of boredom I do, and then you still never say a word to me about it, you don't get to be angry with me. We aren't bitches. We're men. You didn't say shit to me, so get over it. This drama is bullshit. Man up.
5) You're a total douchebag, but somehow you've managed to make a living from it. You're the most famous barfly douchebag in the history of barfly douchebags. And yet, still you remain a douchebag. I realize you've fucked more girls than Magic Johnson, and all without contracting AIDS, but somehow I still don't envy you. I'm probably just a moron, but I don't want to be you.
6) OK, I'm not claiming to be a super pickup artist or anything, but seriously, card tricks? Listen, we need to talk. That shit is lame.
7) Some days I swear I can hear the wind between your ears. And it really bothers me, you know, because we share some DNA. If I end up like that one day I hope someone shoots me or something because I honestly don't know how you get through life sometimes. How do you sideswipe a car in your own driveway without even knowing it? How can you not figure out a simple DVD player? Are you seriously going to just sit there in that chair and piss away the rest of your life? Get up and go travel the world or something. Go see your family in Texas. Go see the Grand Canyon. Go somewhere and do something before it's too late and you look back on your life to see absolutely nothing.
8) Let me see if I have this straight. You assholes hired this guy to set up a blog and say radical right-wing political things. Then, when you narcissistic leftist cunts didn't like the things he said, you arrested him and are pressing felony charges against him for doing exactly what you hired him to do? Wow, and yet still you don't get why most people think you're all a bunch of fucking commie pinko KGB faggots. Remarkable.
9) Listen, I still like you. Forget about it. You made me laugh more than anyone else and I appreciate that. You put up with my shit for a long time before you got fed up. It's all good. Don't beat yourself up over it. And thank you for setting me straight on a few things. It meant a lot to me. I wish you all the best and I mean that.
10) You stand out there in front of that gas station dressed in your cowboy outfit complete with hat, boots and big shiny belt buckle, holding onto the belt with one hand and holding your other hand up in the air in a jerking motion like we used to do as kids when we wanted 18-wheelers to honk their big air horns for us. But you do it at every single car that passes. The first time I saw you I assumed the gas station hired you to draw attention and bring in customers, like when businesses hire some poor kid to put on a dinosaur costume and stand beside the road in front of their shop. But as the weeks passed and I noticed that the gas station had made you move across the street and away from them, and every time I passed you were there, I started to realize that something is wrong with you. Dude, you are just fucking crazy.
Years and years of socialism and entitlements in France have left the young men without any prospects and left to wander the streets looking for something to do. Some form gangs, deal drugs, pimp girls, steal, etc, but a handful of others do this:
No comments:
Post a Comment