32. Spill hot coffee onto your groin.

You realize that you probably shouldn’t have stayed up late last night to watch the harrowing ending of The Bare Wench Project, but a drinking game in which the only rule is to take a shot whenever an errant boob pops onscreen is an alcohol-related activitiy that you sure as hell aren’t going to miss.

But now, at seven o’clock in the morning, you very closely resemble a constipated zombie as you stagger out the front door, half-dressed and smelling faintly of gouda cheese. A half hour later, you find yourself in the middle of Starbucks, though you have no recollection of how you got there or why you’re clutching a bouquet of begonias. No matter. There’s a hot, steaming mug of pure caffeine perched on your table and you plan on sucking it down faster than a Dyson vacuum cleaner. It never loses suction! Truly a modern miracle!

Gripping the cup with shaky hands, you carefully bring the brim to your arid lips. The anticipation is almost palpable, zipping through the air with — wait, that’s not a metaphor flying around, it’s a fly! There is a fly in the Starbucks. And it’s going to land in your voluminous vessel of salvation if you’re not careful. You delicately place your coffee back onto the table and proceed to wave the insidious insect off with clumsy, spastic arm flailings. The casual observer might be led to believe that you have escaped from the nearest mental facility. But you have a mission, and that is to save your morning from the clutches of a winged, disgusting, disease-ridden menace.

There, you’ve got it right where you want it – in front of you. Nice strategy. Slowly, silently, like a ninja, you reach over and steal the newspaper that the guy next to you is reading. Shushing his cries of outrage, you furtively roll it up, take aim, and swing. The fly deftly evades your poorly-executed death blow, buzzing out the door to go annoy the people at the Starbucks across the street. You, on the other hand, have suffered a much worse fate: the coffee that you had so lovingly composed is now currently searing the skin off in and around your groin.

There’s very little one can do in this type of situation other than hop around like an injured orangutan, scream incomprehensibly, and gesture wildly at the fate that has befallen your new khakis. Others may stare at you with heaping amounts of pity, but pity doesn’t put the scalding coffee back in the cup, now does it? Your panicked screams of anguish and futile fanning motions do little to rectify the situation. And the fabulous absorption powers of your chinos ensure that your crotchal region stays nice and fiery for up to ten minutes, baking away both your self-respect and your ability to conceive children.

So if you want to suck at life, spill hot coffee onto your groin. Not only are you still uncaffeinated and covered in third degree burns, but you now possess a stain that can’t possibly be breached without a plethora of jokes at your expense. Congatulations, Captain Shittypants. It’s going to be a long day.

Advertisements

1 Comment »

  1. daniel said

    And the fabulous absorption powers of your chinos ensure that your crotchal region stays nice and fiery for up to ten minutes, baking away both your self-respect and your ability to conceive children.

    Hahahahah!!!!!!!!

RSS feed for comments on this post · TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: