Quick note - I'll be in Pittsburgh partaking in the Zombiewalk this Sunday at the Monroeville Mall. Any of you wonderful Pittsblurgers that are in the area should come out in join in. It's for charity - and for awesome.
Today marks the second installment of Everyday Enemies. It is more or less replacing "Would Ya Wednesday" - instead of focusing on if you would screw someone, we look at people who are screwing my will to live. Think of it as my stress release - some people have yoga, I scream on the internet.
For those of you knew to Everyday Enemies, it focuses on the people and situations that interfere with my ability to make it through everyday. The people that make me question whether this rat race is worth the cheese at the end. The people who ask, "Hot enough for ya?"
Today's Everyday Enemy - Anticlimactic Storyteller
When I tell a story I have a goal - I want you to crap your pants. I want to grab your attention, and I want to tickle it. I want to caress your attention and hold it and sing little lullabies to it. Just went you think you are in a safe place I want to drop the anvil from the window that is the punchline. I want laughing. I want crying. I want defecation.
So when you are telling ME a story - all I am asking is to make my eyebrows move a little. Maybe they nuzzle together in puzzlement. Maybe they raise in shock. Maybe they furrow in anger. No matter what you make them do - make them work. They are thick, luscious and get this little wrinkle between them that just drives the ladies crazy.
I don't have time for stories that don't go anywhere. You went to the mall looking for shoes but you couldn't find the ones you wanted so you asked someone and sure enough they were right there the entire time?
BOOM! Shotgun to my own face. Only reasonable response to your horrible story. I would rather chew on tin foil and bath in hot dog water than listen to a story that goes no where.
How Anticlimactic Storytellers have survived this long baffles me. The only acceptable reason is that their stories are SO boring, normal people would rather off themselves than chance having to hear another horrible story. Reverse Darwinism. The strong have met their match - and their match is slide show of Hawaiian vacation pictures.
You know what? Lie to me next time. Tell me you rode a dinosaur to France and beat Elvis in Scrabble. Awesome, dude. At least your story went somewhere. Only Anticlimactic Storytellers would probably even fuck that up and spend 15 minutes laying out why they couldn't use the triple word score.
And maybe it is a little mean for me to daydream about the them falling off a cliff as they recap their trip to Sam's Club -
But damn, can you imagine what a great story that would be?