So two of my mean friends told me it's lame of me to compile my (BRILLIANT) Facebook status updates as blog posts, and that I need to come up with original content to post instead, otherwise I'm a lame-cheese. Like these two friends were my fuddy-dud freaking middle-school English teachers, swimming in shapeless sweaters and the regrets of two wasted lives (apologies to middle school English teachers out there who are wasting their lives)!
My first instinct was to say "Well POOP on YOU!" Which indeed I did say, since I'm a "gut player," like the current U.S. President, George "Double-U" Anheuser-Busch, the playboy beer heir.
But then I said "Fine." I said "I'll make a compromise. I'll post MORE Facebook updates at a time when I do post them, and I'll do it LESS OFTEN, interspersed with MURDEROUSLY FUNNY new posts FUNNIER THAN ANYTHING YOU LAME-CHEESES COULD COME UP WITH EVER IN YOUR LIVES, AND I BARELY EVEN HAVE TO TRY, YOU BUCKET-HEAD DORK-FACES."
"FINE," they said.
"FINE," I said back.
Then two LOOOOOOONG silences. One with each interlocutor.
Then I broke both silences:
"Um, do you have money to pay for that pulled-pork lunch we just ate? I haven't been to the bank. Any bank. Ever. Sorry."
Then they paid.
"FINE," I said when each insisted I at least pay for a pack of Reece's Cups after from the loose change in my fanny pack.
So here's more CLEARLY UNDER-APPRECIATED Facebook status updates, you INGRATES, which PEOPLE ON FACEBOOK actually LOVE, I'll have your lame asses know.
On Facebook, everyone says I'm "brill" (that's British for "brill").
Also in Canada. They definitely "get me" in Canada too.
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FACEBOOK UPDATES # 81-90
Robert ran smack into the MAYOR!
Robert makes a sandwich. For company. He talks to it. It's quiet, but seems friendly. It likes Robert. It's his friend now. Until it betrays him.
Robert has had it up to HERE. (*is standing on his head, making the 'had it!' sign with a hand up toward his shoes, which makes him fall forward into a somersault*). TA-DAA!
Robert is SERIOUS! STOP CYBER-(*sniffles*)BULLYING (*snorts*) ME! I'M GOING TO (*sniffle* *snort* *weep*) TELL ON YOU! Please? (*sob*) Just (*weep*) stop! (*sob*).
Robert is TIRED of being CYBER-BULLIED and had his DAD teach him how to CYBER-BOX out in the GARAGE so I can DEFEND MYSELF against CYBER BULLIES.
Robert pressed his pants between two giant stones down by the river, but now he can't seem to get the top stone off, and he remembers he left $20 in the pocket. DAMN.
Robert ripped his pants on a splinter in a bench in a park in a state in America in the world in the Milky Way in our galaxy in the universe in whatever that's in.
Robert totally knows he totally has it going on, totally, like utterly and completely. Like he's like SO COOL compared toward you.
Robert stuck his whole entire face about three feet up in there, only to discover it was BUTTERSCOTCH pudding after all!
Robert is firing up his grill, getting it ready to bash its head against a locker and beat up a freshman.
