I logged onto Facebook today, and in my newsfeed was the following update that a girl had posted after taking one of the ridiculous “quizzes” that 14 year old nimrods put together to try to explain their shitty “love lives” before they’re even old enough to get their periods. It read:
Your not afraid to be yourself. Your VERRY fun to be around, your wacky and defenanty no afraid to show your true colors.
I’m not sure where to begin. Let’s start with the obvious, “your” instead of “you’re.” Three times. Three times this person messes this one up. I’m still stupefied that people haven’t figured out this very basic contraction of “you are” in contrast to the ownership of “your.”
Verry? This isn’t Espanol. There is no double R in the word “very,” cochise.
“Defenanty?” That’s not close to any word in the English language, period. What is this person trying to say? Are they actually attempting to say “definitely?” People screw this spelling up all the time—-definately, definitly, defenitely—-“Defenanty” isn’t even phonetically close to the correct spelling. Is this person serious? Did they have FAS as an infant? Are they foreign? What’s the deal?
“No afraid.” Sigh.
“Do spiders scare you?”
“I am no afraid of spiders.”
Let’s stop there before I blow a gasket.
So I have one of those hair brushes made with boar hair bristles. For those of you who are too inept to know what I’m talking about, or you’re a heterosexual male, boar bristles are hairs literally from a pig (or a “boar” as I so eloquently described), and they are very thick, hard bristles. Almost like tiny wires.
Moving forward. Today when I finished blow-drying my locks, I grabbed the brush to put it back in the drawer, when suddenly I felt a sharp, needle-like pain in my right pinky finger. I withdrew my hand suddenly and investigated. I had shoved one boar bristle straight up under my fingernail on my pinky, literally three-quarters of the way up. A tiny pink line appeared underneath my fingernail, and slowly blood started oozing out from under the nail. For something so small, it hurts like you wouldn’t believe. Now my pinky is throbbing like a migraine headache. I’m upset.
Money might help ease the suffering. Just a suggestion.
Football season has started. This makes me want to commit suicide. Sundays are going to go from being my favorite, most anticipated day of the week to my most dreaded, boring day of the week real fast. I just don’t understand football. It’s so chaotic, and all the players have a hard-on for themselves. I don’t get it.
See you next time.
“I’m da best; I deeeed it.”