I Have a Bad Thing to Say to You!

I’ve got a thing to say to you! A Bad Thing to say to you! A bad thing that my brain is having trouble defining the parameters of. Almost indescribably bad, like all bad things combined can’t add up to what I need to tell you. I can’t even choose what comparison would be the best (to describe the worst, in this case). It’s really obnoxious. A total pain in the ass. I would probably want to put off telling you as long as possible because once the conversation starts it will be a total chore to finish. It’s pretty bad. It’s like seeing your clone and not knowing what to say to him even though it would probably be the greatest, coolest experience of your life; like having your worst nightmare every night for a year straight; like your glasses exploding inward right into your eyes; and getting struck by lightning as soon as you get free of jail. It’s like having to go through the process of drawing dry circles all over a piece of paper for ten minutes every single time you need to use a pen; going to get a huge drink of soda through a straw but instead of sucking up pop you inexplicably suck up a bunch of sewing pins; having cold water sprayed on you at intervals only following one man’s cruel whims; like using a word incorrectly in front of people (and everyone knows it’s wrong); being the head of a group or being known for supporting something and being caught doing the opposite; falling off of a swing backwards right onto your back while you’re really high in the air; falling into a state park port-o-pot; fully licking the bottom of a county fair trough-toilet; having all of the fog you experience in your life be giant clouds of steamy piss like that which emanates when you piss in a gross gate toilet; like smelling like a juicy, sun-roasted alley dumpster, but only to the one person you want to love you; being caught off guard and made to look totally uninformed and idiotic on a news program; having one of your kids throw a tantrum in a store and while flailing about kicks you in the crotch in front of everyone; your teeth feeling like there is a dentist’s plaque-pick plucking at them all the time; having all of your conversations on the phone be with a partner who is constantly and distractedly talking to a crowd of friends instead of you; having untrimmable pubic hair in such abundance that it utterly dwarfs whatever it is surrounding; like being a supercomputer and somehow getting a calculation wrong; like throwing up in class every day but every time you throw up its like the first time in terms of surprise and grossness though peoples’ revulsion to you compounds as if you did it every day; someone grabbing a handful of your skin and folding it really hard; having your friends tacitly distrust/disagree with everything you say and every suggestion you make; like running fast and then sliding on your bare skin on a basketball court; having every award you win in your life be only the token ‘everyone has to win something’ sort; being unaware of having one really, really long greasy hair growing out of your shoulder that grosses everyone out; like facing a wall-sized sweaty beer belly and having your head shoved in it belly button and swabbed around, collecting huge pieces of lint on your face while the over-sized oily hairs slop wetly all over your back like seaweed; hitting not your testicles but the soft spot directly underneath the body between your legs on the high crossbar of a bike as you ride down an infinite set of stairs which are broken up by flat road long enough for your to acknowledge the extreme pain before you start bouncing down the steps again; pointing out that someone random looks like someone you know and then having the person you pointed out get really paranoid that you are staring and start screaming at you in some incomprehensible language, and then tries to attack you; always biting down hard on a fork as you try to take a bite. Seriously, it’s completely and totally as bad as feeling compelled to re-smell the gag-inducing contents of food in Tupperware that spoiled in your refrigerator; like thinking you made a fool-proof pact when it was decided that you never had to hear again in your life the song you hate most in the world, but while it’s true that you don’t have to hear the song, anytime it is audible to other people it sounds to you like the worst, loudest, most grating noise in the world; like if every time you said a certain word (like “was,” for example – but you’ll never be able to know what word is the trigger), someone walks up to you and wipes on your cheek a little glob of the white stuff that collects on the corners of your mouth when you talk; like every promise you make to someone will be followed not long thereafter by a desperate desire to get out of it but you can’t because you made a promise; like accidentally really hurting someone who was just playfully sneaking up on you, like smashing them in the face or throwing boiling water on them because you thought they were an intruder; like sneaking up on someone playfully and having the person kick you full force in the groin because they thought you were an intruder; like falling into a pile of something that isn’t overtly gross but the context of falling into it makes the situation really disgusting; like having to take a bath in someone else’s bathwater; like accidently swallowing a full mouthful of toothpaste and spit after vigorously brushing your teeth; like your buried box of secrets and memories and mementos irretrievably rotting away; like being happily married to somebody but being torturously in love with your spouse’s best friend or sibling or someone equivalently inappropriate and unattainable; like driving a car knowing that the airbag is going to deploy unexpectedly sometime while you are driving; like not being held directly responsible for something and are thus technically free from blame but having it known that had you done your job better, less disastrous results would have occurred; like wearing a really ostentatious cardigan and finding out it’s for the wrong holiday (ie Christmas for Halloween); like someone vigorously rubbing a nail file against the spaces between your toes; like the steel toe of a steel-toed boot caving in around your toes; like perceiving everything like it was the most extreme version of whatever it is so your reactions are proportionally intense and you thus are always making everyone uncomfortable with your histrionics and emotion; like every time you go to take a drink from your glass at a bar the guy next to you playing pool jabs his stick into your head accidently as he’s playing the game; the most probable thing to happen happens: your ceremonial opening pitch falls comically short of home plate; or as bad as having your only form of entertainment be listening to other people explain their dreams. Seriously, it’s completely and totally as bad as having everyone for some reason be under the impression that every time they are talking to you, you are sitting on the toilet; like having to ride a motorcycle a long way home in the freezing cold with no gloves, because that is absolutely the only option available to you; having 100% of the toilet seats you go to sit on be covered in drops of urine; eating a sandwich totally over-packed with peanut butter and having only a half-gallon jug of spoiled milk available to help it down, which you have to drink because you have to give an important speech a few moments hence; having to choose between using a razor already clogged with hair every time you have to shave or having your foreskin pulled really hard every morning by someone assigned exclusively to that job; the only way you’re able to feed yourself being a pitchfork for a fork and a shovel for a spoon, even on regular size plates; the only toppings you’ll ever be able to have for waffles are black olives. I don’t know if you really get how bad it is. Seriously. It’s so annoying and so obnoxious and so crummy. It sucks so much. It’s like every day going to sit down in chair and missing and falling down, then getting up and accusing your coworkers of pulling it out from under when nobody actually did, so not only did you fall but you make a fool of yourself by getting fanatically mad for no reason; like being unaware of and painlessly pounding the nail you are hitting into the wall through your hand but having to deal with the pain of pulling it out when you do realize that you did it; being the guy in charge of reversing a snow day after it’s already been called; never being able to enjoy the second day of the weekend because you know it’s bound by the fact that you have to go to work the next day; sort of lucking out: where Saturdays are great because you are immensely relaxed after the work week and even more so because you know you have another day ahead of you, all of your Saturdays feel to you like Sundays, which while cool because you don’t have to work, you can never fully enjoy it because of the nagging reminder you have to work the next day and thus regret staying out late when you do or regret leaving a party early to go to sleep; taking a lifetime to learning all of the instruments in an orchestra so you can exactly express the symphony you have in your head but then having it be considered really boring and uninspired/uninspiring; being the person who constantly makes your friends wait all day to hear from you to confirm plans but who never calls; having to go to bed every night with a random four inch-square area of your body feeling like there is a metal press putting pressure on it; being the guy who invented longer and more frequent commercial breaks into free television programming; getting kicked just square in the privates – directly, powerfully, accurately; walking to your house and seeing some indistinct grey figure appear suddenly in your attic window; having the only spice and condiment you’ll ever be able use again be that flaky orange and brown fish food; like your family’s little rituals and traditions publicly announced and made fun of by all of your classmates; never being able to reach your full potential, not for lack of trying but because life is against you; always being sweaty and having bad breath; being in a perpetual long line with people constantly trying to crowd you; knowing you prematurely found something extremely important to someone else and even though you picked it up in absolute and total innocence it still prevented the most important event in someone’s life from taking place; inadvertently hurting your grandma’s feelings; not being acrobatically-inclined and being forced to do a hand-stand on the edge of the Empire State Building (imagine throwing your legs up and starting to teeter along the edge, not knowing or controlling which way your body will swing itself…); taking the challenge to wear full winter gear for twenty-fours on a hot summer day for $1000 because you want the money but it may not be worth it, but it is $1000 so it is sizeable enough to try to make it but not enough to put up with the discomfort but if you quit you’ll definitely be mad at yourself for forfeiting $1000; having to get your hair cut with a jagged house key; having all of the caricatures you do for people at a company picnic for some reason turn out really offensively; having everyone always think you are selling something; always being plagued by the following scenarios: having the possibility but no condom, popcorn but no oil, an idea but no pen, (etc – more of these ‘this but not that’); being shrunken, sealed in a jar, and forced to fight an angry bee; being totally shamed by someone in public; losing a bet you didn’t think you’d lose and as a result you have to eat cardboard for every meal of the rest of your life; having your mother briefly but at unpredictable intervals take on the appearance of your worst nightmare and as a result you shriek or are totally repulsed by her appearance but your mother doesn’t know what is going on or why you are horrified to see her; like opening a banana and finding that instead of the fruit inside there are thousands of fruit flies tightly compacted that swarm out into your face in an appalling cloud; having every bite of food you take start with the sensation of sticking your tongue on a battery; having the extent of your friendships with people be of the type that they only thing they can think to write in your yearbook is “Stay cool! Don’t ever change!”; falling tiredly and contentedly onto a hay mattress but finding out that it is actually filled with cactus needles on the way down; having your mail dropped in a random different mailbox in your neighborhood every day and having to search for it and retrieve it when you want it (and your neighbors can’t just bring it to you); having someone escort you by walking you really fast by placing a hand on your back every time you want to walk somewhere, like they are quickly escorting you from danger; having the earplugs you are wearing be sucked brutally into your ears due to some extreme change in pressure; only being able to drink cups of other peoples’ spit to sate yourself; having all of the water in the world be turned into milk; like your partner possessing the scary strength of an ape during sex; having to shop at a grocery store that charges lower prices in exchange for the fact that twenty random items per day are secretly infected with salmonella (with the selection of items changing daily); having to blackmail someone you really like; having to pick between one of the following, and you are only allowed to do it and not the other for the rest of your life: read or listen to music; having to run a mile barefoot over a road of small dead birds; having X-Acto knife blades as the part of your glasses that rests on your ears; taking a huge slurp of a thick, nourishing smoothie and having a big stream of ketchup come up your straw; ordering a cup of coffee and pie at a diner and they bring you grape pie, of all things; consenting to the end of your half of a secret handshake being a strong punch in the forehead; like any fart anywhere you are being blamed on you, even if you are completely gas-free; getting caught going through someone’s drawers and cabinets; coughing up a throwing star – you won’t get seriously injured but you will feel the pain of coughing up a throwing star; having a huge bird fly beak-first into your forehead; walking across fresh asphalt and having it dry and seal around your feet; getting a ride to the best place on earth but in order to get there you have to ride on the top of a semi truck on the highway with your face tied down right next to those huge exhaust pipes, and, without fail, always, always, always shitting your pants in public, farting while receiving oral sex, sitting on one of your testicles, having something in your eye, slipping in the shower,  spraining your ankle, prematurely ejaculating, biting your tongue, clogging the toilet, having those little sores on your tongue, using the broken toilet while a guest in someone’s house, pouring a ton of salt on your expensive, mouth-watering steak because the shaker lid was loose, getting hit in the face with a really strong basketball pass, seeing reruns anytime you want to watch a program, spilling sauce on just-pressed pants, burning the special meal you’re making for someone, stepping in shit while wearing the most tread-intricate shoes, sneezing with food in your mouth so that a chunk of food gets itchily stuck in your nose, touching your penis to the inside of a public toilet when you sit down, receiving salads made with brown, wilty, decomposing lettuce, having to use someone else’s toothbrush, having your plans fall through, putting on a coat and having a lower layer’s sleeve bunch up irretrievably and super-annoyingly…always.
            That’s how bad it is.