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(Your Name) speaks through me!

Discussion in 'General Discussion' started by Crown Royal, Oct 2, 2012.

  1. Crown Royal

    Crown Royal
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    Just call me Topher

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    I thought that we were due for a good creative humour thread around here, and what better to attack our friends at the Low Hanging Fruit Factory. This one is easy: channel one of society's most infuriating douchebags and use their sterotypes as bragging material. Like so:

    "Dude, you can you spot me over here? I've got some serious weight on over here and my arms are already feelin' pretty jacked. Nah, I don't play football. Although I could be a walk-on for the team. I wouldn't be able to get my pump on nearly as much if I played, though. Instead, I go the gym seven times a week, checking my myself out in mirrors indirectly while carrying around my mystery shake that looks like a rat threw up in a hobo's diarrhea puddle because blasting the quads helps drown out the sobbing in my head.

    Think I'll walk past the treadmills where the hot chicks are running. I'll make sure to flex and lock my arms like switchblades as I walk by, because the hopes that one of them would check me out will help simmer down my crippling insecurities. I blame my pushy ex-jock father, who still holds onto his high school football stats like they're the alpha of his job application. This installed in me a needless macho attitude and a feeling of all-around superiority over women. To drown out these guilty feelings, I binge drink with my douchebag friends and pick fights with groups that are smaller than us at bars.

    Anyway, time to throw more weight on the bar. Think I'll spin this 45 plate around in between my hands while carrying it to show off a little more. Fuck, I hope that bitch in the yoga shorts is watching. Wish I knew how to talk to her."


    Focus: Use somebody we collectively can't stand as a vessel and have it, jackals.
     
  2. Omegaham

    Omegaham
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    Emotionally Jaded

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    Hey, are you paying attention to me yet? I'm right HERE, holding the Free Tibet placard. Yes, I know I was holding the STOP US Imperialism placard before, but this time it's for real! I love accosting random people and calling them sheep because they don't care deeply about these pressing world issues. It's called "raising awareness," man. You gotta break a few eggs if you wanna make a quiche. Or something like that, I don't really remember. I read Lenin a looong time ago, so I can't recall exactly what he said. That doesn't keep me from boasting that I've read all of his stuff, though.

    Oh, and I'm in a couple of your classes, too. You definitely know who I am, because I'm the guy who constantly interrupts the professor with angry diatribes against the US / Israel / the military-industrial complex / Republicans.

    I don't get it. How can people NOT give a shit about this stuff? They just must be dumb. Dumber than me, the enlightened student who is just so AWARE of everything going on.

    Don't ask me any questions about math, science, English, or any sort of subject that requires rigor beyond referencing political writers, though. I don't know anything about that. And that's why I work at Barnes & Noble and harass anyone who buys Thomas Sowell books. I'm actually really alone and only do this because no one ever gave me attention as a child. Bothering people is the only way that people will acknowledge my existence.


    Sidenote, just in case there ARE some Chomskyites here: You can make this guy an angry Republican / Libertarian, too. Just replace some of the words! It's like a Mad Libs, only with smugness.
     
  3. ghettoastronaut

    ghettoastronaut
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    Emotionally Jaded

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    Hey, I'm Crown Royal and I have an opinion about EVERYTHING! What's that, you like a certain band? Pardon me while I go make up some hyperbolic metaphors to explain why you are an inferior human being to me. It may take some time, though, because I'm going to need to be high first.

    I like this thread.

    Really, though, Crown, we can collectively stand you. It's just there are some more humourless members who we really can't stand who wouldn't like it if I said anything.
     
  4. Parker

    Parker
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    Emotionally Jaded

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    "Uh...what? You're a Vampire Weekend Fan huh? Fuck those guys, they sold out. What's next? You're fan of a Nickelback cover band too? *Adjusts flannel, tosses back man-bangs.* I'm way too busy listening to this rustic, banjo playing, bluegrass soul band that shoots their videos with the coolest old found footage filter. These guys are great, no one has heard of them though, because everyone's tastes in music sucks. I don't mind the fact that they're all from Greenich Village but are rocking a 1930s dustbowl aesthetic, they still reek of genuine and real.

    I'm so sick and tired of people instagraming every picture. The real coolness is cave paintings. Using coal, I can get the PERFECT color for my glasses. What? No, they're not perscription, they just got with my shoes I got from Salvation Army, they're vintage. I learned to use limestone and crushed crabapples to get the perfect colors for my red and green flannel.
     
  5. ghettoastronaut

    ghettoastronaut
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    Emotionally Jaded

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    Hi, I'm your menopausal coworker whose children have just moved out and I'm out to reclaim my youth! Oh my gaaaaad have you read fifty shades of gray? Oh, that book is ... [Giddy laughter]. Me and my husband HAVE SEX, did you know? Doesn't that gross you out? How old are you, anyways? You're my daughter's age and to them the thought of ME and MY HUSBAND gettin' it on? It's mortifying. AWWW look at you I'm grossing you out and making you uncomfortable! How cute!
     
  6. StayFrosty

    StayFrosty
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    Going to go with a very specific and hated example of someone I know, but I think most will be able to relate:

    Oh hi, I'm a 40 year old hick who knows everything about everything. The only reason I got this job is because I get hammered with the GM's brother all the time and we blow each other after last call. When I'm not busy checking out, creeping out, or ogling girls half my age, I like to brag about how awesome I am. Like how I've squeezed every past employer's balls for money because I'm so good they couldn't replace me, dude. Oh, or how this sweet little black chick was ll into me at the bar the other night*. Or how I can go over to my mommy's house, get a free meal, drop off my laundry, and go party while she cleans my panties for me. Or how the GM is totally my dude and will get me my hours back cause I'm only getting 25 and it's bullshit, MAN. Even though I walked in here making more money and hours than people who had been here for a year or more, that wasn't enough because I wasn't getting overtime. I mean, I could get more hours if I would be willing to work mornings, but that's not...erm, that there ain't right with me, you get what ahm sayin'? 'Sides man, between child support and this DUI charge I need that money.

    *This was after an associated food expo event, she was a coworker from another store. 27 but could pass for 21. 18 if she was over your knee in a skirt telling you how naughty she'd been. Where was I? Oh, so first time meeting this guy. He puts down several drinks in the time it takes her to have one shot, leans over close as can be and asks "Hey, so, if a guy was like, interested in you, how would you want him to let you know?"