Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Dear Evil Discussor... Why did you tuck in your shirt today?

I don't know. I guess I kind of just felt like it. I never really ever do but something in me was different this morning. Something moved me. Something, most likely God, said to me, "Wake up, sleepyhead! Tis morn. Get your sweet beautiful self out of bed and greet this fucking sweet-ass day! This day is yours, sweetcakes. And yours only. It's going to be a fantastic day, and you know why? Cause you're fantastic, Evil. Crazily fantastic. Crazy crazy fantastic. Fantastic-astic. You're so fucking fantastic it hurts. Some might disagree about how fantastic you are, but, come on, I'm God. And who are they? Nobodies, that's who. Nobodies who evidently like to argue with God. And because of this, I will smite them with my mighty smoting fists of death. But that's later. For now.. what was I saying... yes... you are fantastic. But you know what would make you even more fantastic? If you would tuck your shirt in your pants today."

And I guess that's why I did. And I feel good. Really good. I'm more upright. More handsome than usual. More svelte. Or svelter. Or more svelter. Whatever. All you need to know is that I'm so damn svelte you might as well call me Svelty, King of the Svelts from now on. Go ahead. I'll answer to it. There's a certain strut to my step. A bounce in my walk. A jiggle in my drawers. An overwhelming air of unfettered confidence. The kind of confidence that comes in knowing that everyone who passes me or has the good fortune to walk behind me, now has a clear, unobstructed view of my rear. My sweetcheeks. My breakfast buns. My hot-cross butt. My evilest ass. And I like that. People should be allowed to see my blueberries more often.

Wouldn't you want to?



Blogger copyranter said...

you know, I felt a smidgen less fantastic this morn when I woke up. this explains it.

9:09 AM  

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