Have you ever met a sarcastic person that couldn't run fast? No. Think about it: when you're growing up, trying to develop a scathing and lightning-fast wit, you're only going to get as far as your feet will take you. Because if the brutes that you are insulting are able to catch you, you won't stay sarcastic for very long. Unless you get really good at climbing trees. Perhaps that is why monkeys are so good at hurling insults... and poo. If I had opposable thumbfeet like those little bastards, I'd never have to hold back the myriad of comments I retain for only the selfish purpose of my own safety.
For example, I could tell my boss how I honestly believe he wouldn't look so bad if he weren't so f*cking ugly. What? It's true. Or I could yell at the jerk in the mall who deftly combines a denim jacket with denim jeans and enormous bomber sunglasses that the George Michael video doesn't begin shooting until next week. Or I could tell a food vendor that even retarded children can speak comprehensible English, so he might as well give it a decent try. Oh, the possibilities.
No comments:
Post a Comment