By Cameron Heffernan
A few observations on everyday life.
The Following isn’t really about anything. Over the past couple of days I’ve gathered my thoughts on random things, and was hoping to share with the world.
So, without any further ado, Some observations from life:
– Toilet seats are only meant for peeing on. Trust me, I’m a man.
– Imagine how awesome Facebook and Twitter would’ve been for fans of the band Cream in the ’60s.
“I just love Cream so much. The euphoric feeling of Cream in my ear is like no other.”
” I would do anything for some Cream.”
And the awful Cream euphemisms could be endless.
– When women, mainly a girlfriend or bang-buddy, say “you only like me for my boobs.” It’s kind of like cereal complaining that you only bought it for the prize inside. This is also applicable to well endowed men who are only used for their extended leg.
– Pretty people who tell you that you’re pretty, when you know you aren’t, are the absolute worst. You know what you are; they know what they are; I don’t need your pity – this “Beauty And The Beast” bullshit, where they think they’re saving you’re ugly ass. You’re not gonna save me.Your pity only makes my sad-fat-uglyness even worse, and it makes it hard to joke(cope) about it when you’re spewing bullshit on my face. Like a faucet of shit. Just a runny faucet of feces. Pretty people suck. And yeah, that’s my ugly mug in the picture at the top, and yeah, I’m bitter towards pretty people. I know I’m ugly and a little chubby, but it works for jokes, and really, that’s all us ugly-fat-sad people have, is our funnies.
– If you’re in the “Friend Zone”, you probably belong there (This also taps into the observation above). If someone says the crap that was explained in the paragraph above, then it’s bullshit. Class systems most certainly exist sexually; And socially, politically, and really people in general. Assess yourself one day, ask yourself, “If this were “Pretty in Pink”, would I be Duckie, or would I be Blaine?” A lot of the times, you think you’re Blaine. A player, who has all the ladies eating out of your hand. In real life, you’re Duckie – an emotional whipping post, for said “Freind-Zoner”. You need to assess your place in life. Do you play video games till all hours of the night? Yes? Too bad. Do you like comic books and the myriad movies that go along with them these days? Yes? Too bad. Do you have unnatural attractions to characters in said comic books? Yes? Again, too bad. And get some help. Do you also have unnatural attraction to female celebrities that you have no problem gushing about in public ? Yes? Yet again, too bad. And one final one. Are you pretty much a man-child? Yes? Well cut that shit out. That’s what you’re goddamn problem is. If you have no job – or a sad job – and you live with your parents, and you exceed the age of 25, you’re going to be dealing in the “Friend Zone” primarily. Women don’t want sad. Yeah, they find Loki and the last two Doctors sexy, but that’s cause those actors ARE sexy. You aren’t. It’s not about the comics, or the story for them. It’s about the sexy dudes. As well, with you it’s about Scarlett Johansson in a tight black suit with her boobs pushed up – cause when I think tactical espionage, I think tight and sexy, and really nothing strategic about it.
So, in summary: Get over yourself, play it cool, don’t talk about your interests all the time, and act like a goddam man. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to not end up in the “Friend Zone”. If you have Asperger Syndrome, I’m sorry, but you may just be stuck in that “Zone”, until you find yourself another little socially awkward friend. Then you’re gravy.
– Have you ever thought about suicide? Not in a negative way, like “Oh god, my life is too hard. It’s time to end it all.” I’m talking, something goes so well, like you don’t get “Friend Zoned” , or you get the job that you’ve been dreaming of since you were a child. That, you just decide, “you know what, fuck it. I did it, there’s nothing left beyond this point, might as well end it now.” It would be like retiring after a championship. And not playing an extra few years in Washington; completely screwing your legacy for like five years. And imagine you’re in a skyscraper when you get the job. You could shake hands with whom ever just hired you, turn around, and just jump out a window. That human resources guy would be pretty surprised. Not to mention, most likely never able to hire anyone again (because he thinks people just kill themselves when he hires them). Oh, and if this is already a Louis C.K. joke, I apologize. I feel it may be, but I’m too lazy to research it. And fuck it, I’m nowhere as funny, so there’s that. Which brings me to another point:
– You shouldn’t be able to sue people for shitty song covers, or when your song is sampled in a shitty song. Vanilla Ice shouldn’t of had to go through the ordeal he did, cause his shitty song had a Queen sample in it. It’s a shitty song, that became a joke. Under Pressure on the other hand, is still an anthem for gay rights, and human rights in general. We all feel the pressure of society. We all do.
– One time I was eating a cookie. I rested the cookie, in my hand, between my thighs as I sat on my couch. It was at that time that I farted, and the fart traveled up my thighs and on my cookie. Like, the fart air did, I mean. Suffice to say, I took a bite of the cookie and it tasted like fart + delicious cookie. I’ve never been so torn in my life to finish a cookie. I did.