| What is this fuckery? |
[09 Aug 2009|05:41am] |
What is this fuckery?
Picture this, if you will. You're working at the bar. It's a slow night, so your job is basically just standing there reminding yourself that drinking on the job is irresponsible and lamenting the fact that your life is entirely reliant upon tips when the charming plastic block in your pocket starts having a seizure because someone has decided that they love you enough to acknowledge your existence with a text message. You were overjoyed. You were ecstatic. You thought that maybe, maybe, someone cared.
Alas, such is not the case. You see, the text was from your little baby brother, apparently sent in a mood of triumph aided, no doubt, by the very sort of liquids that you peddle to middle aged men who need to ingest three pints before they can even look at their wives. And what does that fraternal text say? Why, how about this, just as an example:
"and then she said I drew a line on her forehead with my cum and whispered 'Simba'"
Your little baby brother, aged seventeen, sent you that. You're at work, in the middle of another double shift, trying to pay for college because your tuition payment due date is, of course, looming, and you receive that text from the person whom, seventeen or not, you view as a ten year old little brat with a speech impediment. Does that make you a happy person? I don't think so. No. It doesn't. Not only do you suddenly feel incredibly old because you think about how if your little baby brother is old enough to be giving random chicks facials, how old does that make you, but, almost more importantly, you're stricken with one horrible, horrible realization.
Your little baby brother, whom you always suspected was gay and socially inept, is getting more girls than you.
I say again: What is this fuckery?
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