Bored, floored, whored, and Jersey Shored, your exhausted collector is here to swipe you off your feet, leaving you . . . with a spinal cord injury? Um, the metaphor bank was closed today. Let's open this slice of Americana with a line from Jewish MC Paul Barman, taken from "MTV Get Off The Air, Pt. 2":
Smirkin' jocks with hackysacksin Birkenstocks and khaki slacksI'm the hypest lyricistwhile they're like, "What type of beer is this?"
I'd give you more lyrical insanity but I don't want sloth-controlled Turnitin to render this post plagiarized. Not that I'm submitting this for my American Women's Suffrage paper or anything.
It all began with George Washington, whose blunt declaration -- "bitches ain't shit" -- sparked national debate centered around the petite gender's relative value. Susan B. Anthony dropped the hot classical music piece "Female Empowerment," which expressed, in ♬s, that female human beings are definitely not feces. Benjamin Franklin bayoneted the femcee and boom, women fell back into oblivion. Oh, and they never got the right to vote.
I recently donated $100 to Turnitin competitor SubmitQuick, the up-and-coming plagiarism-deflector which is going to abolish Turnitin's stronghold on the Fuck You, Student industry. And with that, our introductory drivel is no more.
"How am I gonna tell him? I should tell him. But Dave and I . . . we never did anything. Then why can't I tell him! Goddamn you, Jen! Wait . . . goddamn myself, self!"
A knock on the door propelled Jen into fear of her parents' sending her to a therapist . . . no, no! "Honey, are you okay?" Jen's mother said, calmly for real.
"Yes, ma, I'm fine. Fine fine fine. Okay, see ya."
Her mother left her and Jen returned to pacing around her bedroom, deliberating her relationship's relative honesty. It was bordering on perfection, but there was one crack in the wall -- and she was staring at it. Then it came out.
"If he's the one, he'll forgive me."
" . . . I swear to you Scott, we never did anything. He kissed me once when I was depressed about Nick taking time off from his blog -- that's it. Scott I love you, I really, really do."
"I love you, too, Jen," was Scott's deftly sincere response. More than being a comma to Jen and Scott's relationship, it served as a period to Jen and Dave's relationship. The exercise in common interests which was Jen + Dave reminded our female protagonist of the unimportance of hobbies. Chemistry transfixes the souls of lovebirds Jen and Scott, supernaturally.
Note: Jen and Dave: The Complete Unedited, Uncensored, Unadulterated, Are You Gonna Buy it Yet? Maybe Not. Unrated, Untouched, Uncouth, Underwear Tales will be in bookstores next Tuesday. I signed a deal with Random House. Oh . . . and the work will contain a foreword by Nick L (sorry, he's all I could afford). Each copy will be signed by Dave and kissed by Jen. If you want to get all Halo 3 and camp outside Barnes & Noble on November 24th . . . then you're a clown! Nick L, I already granted you permission to infest your overused catch word in my first official collection of blog posts. That wasn't enough? Read this next mini-story and weep.
Jen walked to a mall with three female friends. That's four people all together. Anywho, Nick L was at that same mall. What a coincidence. So, the five people I've talked about in this mini-story so far were all on the same floor at one point in time. Well, this Jen girl, she's so funny and she stuck her foot out for kicks-and-giggles; Nick L walked by and tripped on Jen's protruded foot and fell down an escalator. He broke some key body parts. He's in the hospital. Write to him if you want. But most importantly . . . ?
A. No more Nick L posts for a while.
B. We'll never know who Jen was chilling with.
C. No one says "anywho."
D. It was written.
If you're answer was A, you're in luck, solider. I'll give you half-credit for C, though -- "anywho" is a fucking dealbreaker. One time at band camp, a girl said that assault-on-language while my [censored] was tearing up her [heavily censored] and destroying her [wow, you're cool, trying to use terms you just learned in Sexual Education]. Anywh -- cough, anyway, I stopped engaging in a sacred act with the young lady after she used an a-word we simply won't mention anymore in the Fictional Account household.
Lemme check my checkered Czech checklist:
□ Mám rád poníky a jednorožci.□ Mám rád fialová košile a šedé mužů.
Contrary to popular belief, those are genuine, grammatically correct Czech sentences. Their meanings, though -- yeah, didn't think you'd check to see what they meant. Unused check ideas: cheque, Czechoslovakia, Chex Mix, ✓, Chekhov. Let's get to a more relevant list. My daily sticky note:
-talk about scott/jen-write off nick L-promote book-social updates-editor?
Regarding the last remark, I do need an editor. Ryan A is the obvious choice -- he's concise, fastidious, headstrong, and knowledgeable. But we'll talk about the editor position in future narratives. The new segment Status Update Central gives us notable tidbits from your students of the world . . . local high school. Let's try this.
"just wait net fans... we're gettin lebron james in 2010-2011 season" ~ Paul L.
"had to get home from baltimore through nyc into nutley through fuckin pourin rain -.-" ~ Dave C.
"there's a ring around my finger, but will you change your mind ? and you tell me that i'm beautiful but that could be a lie" ~ Kate B.
Eh, I'll probably trash this segment. It demands too much -- context, permission, write-ups, research. Whatever. My benevolent, endearing readers: you've been great to me. My mattress is whispering to me, though. He's like, "Psss, Nick, psss, you know you want my warm goodness, psss." It's a wonderful life. Naysayers say layers but you better pray, players, that you don't . . . um . . . spontaneously combust. Even daily goodbyes are tough. Fine. Fin.
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