A Memo Concerning: Stunna Shades, Mutant Ninjas, and Dick Cheney

A lot of you guys have called me out pretty hard on the fact that I haven't shared one of these in a while. I hope these same people aren't also fasting or refusing to engage in coitus until Sisqo, AKA "The Dragon," comes out with another radical hit single like "The Thong Song." But in case you were, without further adieu...

A Memo Concerning:Stunna Shades, Mutant Ninjas, and Dick Cheney

Today while punching myself in the penis, I mean filling up the gas tank, a brand new black Jetta pulled up to the pump across from me. I immediately knew this was trouble as my manners, patience and shame had been systematically dismantled while watching money being sucked out of my bank account. Just before the Jetta pulled up I had become dangerously entranced in the ever increasing flurry of numbers on the pump until within their movement I could easily see Dick Cheney dancing around in the fantasy sequence from "Happy Gilmore." Dick is wearing a satin leisure suit and dancing like a leprechaun on top of the white piano until he notices that I am watching him, lets off a snarl, then slowly lifts up a shotgun and sprays Keith Richard's, who happens to be playing the piano, across the face and chest. That is about when the Jetta pulled up.

She and her companion were riding in Daddy's Sweet 16 gift wearing Stunna Shades and blasting the radio. The driver hopped out and pranced to the pump and it was at this time that I began wondering if they were on their way to a Willy Wonka festival. I mean why else would they be wearing those ridiculous sunglasses? But I'm pretty sure Willy Wonka festivals are about as common as Berenstein Bear festivals (basically not nearly enough) so I was forced to conclude that these two girls were just wildly unattractive. Is there any other reason for a female to wear sunglasses that cover half of their face? How did this become acceptable? From now on I'm gonna wear a refrigerator box to cover the fact that I'm almost 24 years old and weigh 140lbs.
Anyways...tragically at this point that song "Soul Meets Body" by Death Cab for Emo McSlitWrists came on the radio and as if the song hadn't been in steady rotation for the past nine months these two broadulars erupted in excitement. The one still in Daddy's car even went as far as to scream "OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG!"
And I was forced to respond, "OH MY GOD, ME TOOOOOO!" while McCauley Caulkening my cheeks.
The girl in the car quickly snapped her head towards me and slid her shitty eyewear to the edge of her nose to reveal, as predicted, an acne infested forehead/brow. She looked at me like I had three noses and two gnome sized Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles dancing on my shoulders (Michealanglo on right, Raphael on left--Go ninja! Go ninja!). I'm sure you have all gotten this look before, right? Well in this situation the look forced me to give both girls two thumbs down and belt out the most savage "BOOOOOO!" I have ever delivered. I waited for a response --didn't really happen, stepped into my car and drove away softly singing to myself "Dumps like a truck, truck, truck, thighs like what, what, what. Oooooh baby do it agaaaain!" Why? I don't really know. Sisqo is “The Dragon,” why don’t you ask him.

Now I write all this fully aware that I may sound like Andy Rooney sitting behind a typewriter writing complaint letters to Jesus for not asking if he wanted to be saved or not and failing to be punctual with "The Coming." But these memos are firmly dedicated to the absurd and the fact is, there is no use lying to the world. Leave the Stunna Shades at home. Don't hide. This world is complicated enough without unnecessary deception. The fundamental fact remains that you can't travel to some magical place where soul meets body, you live in that place every single day. Stop wondering if the grass is greener somewhere else while letting your dog shit on your lawn. Moving on then...