I love reminiscing about the good old days. Like in fifth grade, when I totally dunked on Owen Krevsky when a bird took a dump on his greenish-brown pants and I yelled, “At least it matches!” Everyone lost their shit. Anyway, that was awesome and made me king for a day. Unfortunately, that day was when I peaked and I don’t really have anything else going anymore, so I really need this.
I thought that sick burn would be a stepping stone to more popularity but it never really panned out. I don’t know if the other kids were intimidated by my quick-wit and afraid I’d turn my sharp tongue on them, but my life since then has been pretty underwhelming. Fuck it, I’ll always have that glorious moment as a reminder of my capacity to make dozens of people laugh at the expense of someone who, for all I know, deserved it.
Sure, Krevsky went on to devote himself to curing childhood cancers while I went on to feed my various addictions until my parents found out I was the one stealing their organs. Different strokes for different folks, I guess.
Perhaps it’s time to move on and stop living in the past. Maybe I’ll do that right after I design the perfect AI image depicting the events of that day and get it blown up and professionally framed so I can stop letting it consume my thoughts in order to free my mind up for other important things. Like that one time I berated that annoying crying baby on the plane to Vegas then tried to pummel the shit out of his beta dad when he dared to give me lip. “She’s just a baby,” he whined. Well so am I!
