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 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, most profound experience of your life; it’s like having your worst nightmare every night for a year straight, like your glasses exploding inward right into your eyes, and like getting struck by lightning as soon as you successfully escape from 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 whims; 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; 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 from the drain of a gross gate toilet; like being caught off guard and made to look totally uninformed and idiotic on a news program; smelling like a juicy, sun-roasted alley dumpster, but only to the one person you want most to love you; 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; and like having one of your kids throw a tantrum in a store and while flailing about kicks you in the crotch in front of everyone. Maybe you should sit down. Honestly, you’re not going to want to hear this. It’s like 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; like having really thick, luxurious, enviable hair – but only on a part of your body that doesn’t traditionally have that much hair, and that’s the only place where you have any hair; like being a supercomputer and somehow getting a calculation wrong; like throwing up in class every day of the semester; like 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; like having every award you win in your life be only the token ‘everyone has to win something’ sort; like facing a wall-sized sweaty beer belly and having your head shoved in the belly button and swabbed around, collecting huge pieces of lint on your face while the oversized oily hairs slop wetly all over your back like seaweed; like hitting the soft spot directly underneath your testicles on the high crossbar of a bike as you ride down an infinite set of stairs which is broken up by flat road long enough for you to acknowledge the extreme pain before you start bouncing down the steps again; like 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 at them and start screaming at you in some incomprehensible language; like realizing the building you live in used to be a hospital and always biting down hard on a fork as you try to take a bite of food. Seriously, what I have to tell you is completely and totally as bad as feeling compelled to re-smell spoiled contents of the Tupperware 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 said song, anytime it is audible to other people it sounds like the worst, loudest, most grating noise in the world to you; 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 having every promise you make to someone will be followed be followed 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 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 your only form of sustenance be treated lumber – you have to eat it to survive but eating it is always like a human trying to eat a 2×4; and like driving a car knowing that the airbag is going to deploy unexpectedly at some point 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 someone vigorously rubbing a nail file against the spaces between your toes; like the steel 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 are thus always making everyone uncomfortable with your histrionics. Seriously, it’s as 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 every time you go to take a drink from your glass at a bar a guy jabs his stick into your head accidently as he’s playing pool; the most probable thing to happen happens: your ceremonial opening pitch falls comically short of home plate; having everyone think it’s you that told on them; and it’s as bad as having your only form of entertainment be listening to other people describe their dreams. It’s 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; like having 100% of the toilet seats you go to sit on be covered in drops of urine; having pickles for teeth; 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; like marrying a possum if you were a baboon; knowing every bad thought everyone ever has about you; being the guy who introduced mosquitoes to an area where they previously didn’t exist but now flourish; like 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, and like 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; like being unaware of and painlessly pounding a nail through your hand but having to deal with the pain of pulling it out when you do realize that you did it; like being the guy in charge of reversing a snow day after it’s already been called; like 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; like being the person who constantly makes your friends wait all day to hear from you to confirm plans but then never calls; like 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; like 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 same last name as a horrible dictator; having the only spice and condiment you’ll ever be able use again be flaky orange and brown fish food, and having your family’s little rituals and traditions publicly made fun of by all of your classmates. It’s like never being able to reach your full potential, not for lack of trying but because life is against you, and you know it; like always being sweaty and always having bad breath; like being in a perpetual long line with people constantly trying to crowd you; like having every shower you take feel to you like you’re bathing in bus tub water; knowing you found something extremely important to someone else on the ground 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; having it rain toenails, but only on you; like inadvertently hurting your grandma’s feelings; like being known as the guy who never brings anything to a potluck or other social gathering, even if you bring amazing dishes; 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 the money; having to get your hair cut with a jagged house key; and having all of the caricatures you do for people at a company picnic for some reason turn out really offensively. Honestly though, you’re going to hate to have to hear this. I can’t believe I have to impart this to you. Arrrgh. Ok, this is so bad. Prepare yourself! It’s like having everyone always think you are selling something; always being plagued by the following scenarios: having popcorn but no oil, an idea but no pen; being shrunken, sealed in a jar, and forced to fight an angry bee; being totally shamed by someone in public; having all of your hair have nerve endings in it; 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; going through the process of losing and re-growing teeth once a year; having your mom 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 she doesn’t know what is going on or why you are horrified to see her; pricking your finger on something sharp in the coin return slot of a payphone; like opening a banana and finding that instead of the fruit 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 nine-volt battery; never being able to regrow blood – what you have is all you’ll ever have; 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!”; having to leave the shower in a locker room for a fire alarm in the middle of winter, and then being blamed for the fire alarm for some reason; falling tiredly and contentedly toward a hay mattress but realizing it’s actually a pile of 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); like always 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 and like rest of your life: read or listen to music. Do you even get it yet? How truly bad this thing is that I have to tell you? It’s like revisiting your favorite books and movies and realizing everything you liked actually really sucks; like 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 fucking grape pie, of all things; consenting to a secret handshake that features a strong punch to the forehead; like any fart anywhere being blamed on you, even if you are completely gas-free; having the feeling of a tooth cavity on other parts of your body; 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; like having every waiter in the world conspire to exclude you from decent service; walking across fresh asphalt and having it dry and seal around your feet; having different parts of your body age at radically different rates; having your identity stolen and realizing that people like the fake version of you more; like getting a much-needed ride 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; being able to fly but finding out it takes as much effort as running; like having every financial transaction you ever do be in pennies; like using a broom for a toothbrush; 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, having dull knives, biting your tongue, clogging the toilet, having 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 your least-favorite episode anytime you want to watch a program, letting down the people who depend on you, having one nostril clogged, biting your tongue, spilling sauce on just-pressed pants, burning the special meal you’re making for someone, ruining your engine when you go to jump your car, stepping in shit while wearing tread-intricate shoes, having your privileges revoked, chewing Tylenol, getting audited, sneezing with food in your mouth so that a chunk of food gets stuck in your nose, having a ton of hangnails, ingrown hairs, and zits that aren’t ready to be popped but are throbbing sore spots, biting into moldy bread, locking your keys in your car, being called into work on your day off, having people forget your name, touching your penis to the inside of a public toilet when you sit down, receiving salads made with wilty, decomposing lettuce, having your plans fall through, and having your lower layers’ sleeves bunch up irretrievably and super-annoyingly when you put on a coat…always. That’s how bad it is.

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One Response to I Have a Bad Thing to Say to You!

  1. Linda Angelo says:

    lololol, Im really getting to like you:) your a man after my heart.

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