Brought to you by the effects of Stockholm Syndrome from holding myself hostage for so many years.
Thursday, September 05, 2013
TIGF!!! (That's Incredibly Gay Friday!!!): When I was a pretty ballerina....
(Reading this post while listening to the music is recommended.) I remember it like it was just yesterday. I danced in my room, a dance that only I knew. Wearing only a pink tutu and wrestling shoes, a fine balance of the genders represented there where no one would judge; well, my dad did after walking in on me. When we recall that moment it is known as the "awkward night of surprise". After our encounter in my room, my dad revealed to me his love of Baryshnikov. I replied "Really, dad? You like ballet too?" He came back, "Hell no! I loved 'White Nights', him and that 'ketchup' fella...er...Hines!" "Dad?" "Yes, son?" "Is it ketchup or catsup?" "I dunno. I prefer ketchup." "Oh. Well, somewhere I heard that they put more sugar in one of them and that's what made the difference. You ever hear that?" "I..I, well, yes, somewhere indeed. I believe it was in one of your mother's magazines. She puts them right there beside the toilet and I can't help but read them." "You know what dad?" "What son?" "I've read those magazines too. There's some pretty good ideas in them." "Yeah? Like, what kind of ideas?" "Oh, I dunno. It must be neat to be a woman, that's all." "Son, now believe me when I tell you this, being a woman is hard." "Well gosh, dad. I don't want to be a girl. I just think that it must be great to do lady stuff once in a while." "What kind of lady stuff?" "You know, macrame, trying on clothes, and talking shit about other women." "But you don't have to be a woman to do those things, son. Why, you and I could do those sorts of things together." "Really?" "Really." "'Black Ketchup'!" "What's that again?" "Black Ketchup, it's got Worcestershire sauce and black licorice in it!" "IS THAT A REAL THING???" "I HAVE NO IDEA BUT WE'RE GONNA BE EFFING BILLIONAIRES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Aaaaaaaand then we just started shouting at every one in the house, celebrating our victory of genius, broke a bunch of shit, then called the patent office. The End!