(no subject)
My only goal in life is to be more like Jedidiah "Jed" Kirschner.
Is it sad that I idolize a transvestite pot-head who works at McDonalds with an 'adult baby lifestyle' and has all kinda of craziness in his brain?
Getting all intimate with the promiscuous trollop that is internet writing has turned me into the type of person I hate the most: a straight male who pretends to be gay/bisexual. The saddest part is I'm not even doing it to score with the ladies. I've long since given up on ever having a relationship with a human female as that part of my brain was born with vital cogs and belt shafts missing. I can recall only one instance of a girl ever wanting my company. It was last year in my british literature class. When I found out that she wrote horrible poetry and enjoyed the Dave Matthews Band I should've just come clean and said "Look, I don't think we're very compatible, so I was wondering if we could just engage in an elaborate bondage ritual and then get on with our lives." This story reminds me of all the other great memories I have of college. That will be tonight's theme as I lay my hands upon this keyboard and give fiery genesis to an update. Note: As a special bonus, all Something Awful Ice subscribers will have access to the amazing follow up article, "Memories of College with tiled background images of 1920's strongmen".
Yesterday I called up my former college dorm mate, Wayne. "Hello, Wayne?" I said. "This is Jed Kirchner. You made fun of me in college. I've been looking back on my first year of college, specifically the way I acted like a complete self-effacing fool, and I was wondering if I could blame you for some of that. It's just that otherwise I'd have to see my actions for what they really are; the violent thrashings of a broken man who beats against the door to his cage of self-doubt until finally, fists bloodied, he resigns himself to a life of quiet desperation."
"I'd have no problem with that." Wayne said.
"Great. You know I should really be thanking you for making fun of me. You showed me places inside of myself I never knew existed. Breathtaking vistas every bit as beautiful as the default wallpapers packaged with Windows ME. And people say there's no god. Hello?"
When new students arrived at my dormitory they were immediately stripped naked and doused with cologne. They were then issued a flannel shirt, khakis, and a hemp necklace and directed to an adjacent room where RAs were on hand to hook them up to IVs of Bacardi. You never forget your first night of college. That's when it hits you that you've taken a Day of the Dead elevator ride down into a dark, claustrophobic nightmare world and the elevator door has just closed above you. That night I dreamed that I met a physical manifestation of my sense of self. "Why are you so small?" I asked.
"Because you stopped working on me when you were six." my sense of self replied. "Tell me, could you have picked any more of a myopic romanticist worldview to adopt? I guess it's because of the anime videos, an indulgence of your feeble imagination and its constant need for childish escapism."
When I woke up two astronauts appeared in front of me.
Is it sad that I idolize a transvestite pot-head who works at McDonalds with an 'adult baby lifestyle' and has all kinda of craziness in his brain?
Getting all intimate with the promiscuous trollop that is internet writing has turned me into the type of person I hate the most: a straight male who pretends to be gay/bisexual. The saddest part is I'm not even doing it to score with the ladies. I've long since given up on ever having a relationship with a human female as that part of my brain was born with vital cogs and belt shafts missing. I can recall only one instance of a girl ever wanting my company. It was last year in my british literature class. When I found out that she wrote horrible poetry and enjoyed the Dave Matthews Band I should've just come clean and said "Look, I don't think we're very compatible, so I was wondering if we could just engage in an elaborate bondage ritual and then get on with our lives." This story reminds me of all the other great memories I have of college. That will be tonight's theme as I lay my hands upon this keyboard and give fiery genesis to an update. Note: As a special bonus, all Something Awful Ice subscribers will have access to the amazing follow up article, "Memories of College with tiled background images of 1920's strongmen".
Yesterday I called up my former college dorm mate, Wayne. "Hello, Wayne?" I said. "This is Jed Kirchner. You made fun of me in college. I've been looking back on my first year of college, specifically the way I acted like a complete self-effacing fool, and I was wondering if I could blame you for some of that. It's just that otherwise I'd have to see my actions for what they really are; the violent thrashings of a broken man who beats against the door to his cage of self-doubt until finally, fists bloodied, he resigns himself to a life of quiet desperation."
"I'd have no problem with that." Wayne said.
"Great. You know I should really be thanking you for making fun of me. You showed me places inside of myself I never knew existed. Breathtaking vistas every bit as beautiful as the default wallpapers packaged with Windows ME. And people say there's no god. Hello?"
When new students arrived at my dormitory they were immediately stripped naked and doused with cologne. They were then issued a flannel shirt, khakis, and a hemp necklace and directed to an adjacent room where RAs were on hand to hook them up to IVs of Bacardi. You never forget your first night of college. That's when it hits you that you've taken a Day of the Dead elevator ride down into a dark, claustrophobic nightmare world and the elevator door has just closed above you. That night I dreamed that I met a physical manifestation of my sense of self. "Why are you so small?" I asked.
"Because you stopped working on me when you were six." my sense of self replied. "Tell me, could you have picked any more of a myopic romanticist worldview to adopt? I guess it's because of the anime videos, an indulgence of your feeble imagination and its constant need for childish escapism."
When I woke up two astronauts appeared in front of me.