Today is a bad sort of day to be writing, because I have a cold. You may know what I am referring to if you have ever had a cold, because you don’t want to write, or get up, or do anything, inasmuch as your entire body aches and you are thrust hard into the fact that life is brutal and little microscopic organisms hate you. Nevertheless, I am about to do something that is downright dangerous in this condition: Attempt to write something funny. If I die, please leave my possessions to my mother, which she can burn as she sees fit. Thank you.
All right, so today’s (FUNNY) topic is: The Prom. The prom is a rite of passage, one which signals the passing of a person from his days in high school, wherein girls treat him as if he is slime, to college, wherein girls treat him as if he were slime but also have sex with him. That is why it is so important to go to the prom. If you don’t, you can never get laid, ever, throughout your entire life. I believe that that is stated explicitly in many sorority constitutions, or whatever sororities use to decide when they can have pillow fights.
Unfortunately, I did not go to the prom, which was yesterday, Saturday for those of you paying attention. I was just lazy and wanted to go to Bennigan’s with my mother instead. Also, I wasn’t in school on Friday, “Senior Ditch Day II”, because it had snowed, it was Friday the 13th, and my mother was afraid for me. The day before, I could have signed up, but was lazy and felt depressed because a very cute girl, who I will henceforth refer to as The Girl With The Foxy Name, acted surly to me as I was trying to ask her to the Prom. Also I hadn’t planned on it and was only aware of it three days beforehand. Also I didn’t want to wear a tuxedo.
The Prom’s theme was that of a Japanese tea garden. Bennigan’s has a semi-Irish theme, which means that every item on the menu contains beer in one way or another. After eating, my mother and I went to a Japanese-themed car dealership (it sold both Isuzus and Subarus) to look at pickup trucks with my mother, because I want one badly, since I drive a little Mercury Mystique LS car which runs fine but is very short, which means that whenever I drive up next to one of those gigantic trucks people use to tow pontoon boats with, I have to drive five feet into the intersection to be able to look around him, and he retaliates by driving up five more feet, and we both keep up this little fight until we are safely across the intersection. The truck I looked at had five retarded cylinders in it (that’s what the brochure said, I think) and was very small, as far as trucks go, but I thought it was great. I could tow a dinghy with that truck, at least.
(Look, the above image above is basically an Isuzu i370. It has a boat behind it. I’m lazy.)
I think that yesterday’s events, plus the fact that I watched Snakes on a Plane last night and screamed in my dog’s ear whenever a snake came onscreen, make up for the fact that I missed out on one of the most important events in a person’s life, at least until he graduates and starts paying income taxes and drinking legally. My only problem now is how I’m going to make up for not asking the Girl with the Foxy Name to the Prom, especially since she went with somebody else. I’ve already come up with a solution: I’ll tell her how much I love her and want to be with her, and she will become overwhelmed by emotion and begin crying, and we will embrace, while the rest of my class is watching, including the boy she went with. I don’t know how that will go, but I know one thing: There will be no sex involved. After all, I’ve violated her future sorority’s Pillow Fight Constitution already.