Last night receives the seal of shit – in bold red (the hideous red in the Crayola box that no one used) letters it reads: S H I T. The night ended with a very drunk Marissa swerving through downtown Denver in search of her car wearing impractical snakeskin shoes and a frown (Dear PETA, they are faux, but the frown was the real deal).
Breathe easy my friends, for I will not be filling out the complaint forms today. I have been told by the blog wise that such moans would only deflect readers from my clotheless confessions. I will instead put on a Smashing Pumpkins album (to which only the smart listen), and begin a discussion of gingers.
If you are an avid South Park fan then you are already familiar with the term “ginger” (from episode #911), but if you are of the lower class of ignorant fools, then I shall invite the beloved Cartman to provide the definition.
Marissa: (dressed for the teacher role with black glasses and cleavage) Go ahead fat boy.
Cartman: Hey fuck you.
Marissa: I’m sorry. Please continue.
Cartman: Gingers are people with red hair, freckles, and pale skin. They are disgusting and inherently evil; they have no souls and are unable to walk around during the day because of this.
Kyle: (finds his way through the messy room that is my imagination) I have red hair, and I can walk around during the day.
Cartman: You Kyle are a DayWalker ; an individual with red hair but not paired with the usual pale skin and freckles.
Marissa: (leans over the desk to maximize cleavage exposure) Thank you boys.
Now I realize that the title of ginger may seem like an insult, but there is in fact a biological explanation for the trio of social banishment. Like alcoholism and depression, a ginger appearance is explained and accepted through the science of genetics. Was that too harsh? Fuck me I am getting terrible in my old age. I learned in my Genetics class – in which I spent most of my time writing silly stories in the margins of my notes – that pale skin, freckles, and red hair is actually the result of a mutation on some gene located on some chromosome activated by some protein. I really should do my research before I insult, but like I have said before -- my humor is largely influenced by South Park, the amusement park clowns in my head, and John Stewart. Forgiveness is necessary for my salvation.
All is not doom and gloom for the gingers of the world, for I believe that 2008 is the year of the ginger. The defense will now present the evidence in favor of this statement.
Exhibit B: A Fine Frenzy
Exhibit C: Bryce Dallas Howard
As you can see from exhibits A, B, and C, gingers, or at least those of the daywalker breed, are widely accepted by society as talented, beautiful, and even possibly in possession of a soul. They are on our television screens, our air waves, and in our print. We welcome them with open arms, and at times even attempt to duplicate the ginger with bottled hair dye and anti-skin cancer campaigns. Gingers will now longer be the subject of jest! (The court room grows silent) For this is the year of the ginger! (Thunder rolls in the distance – lightning cracks – the lights cut out) Beware all of you “normal” non-mutants the time of the ginger is upon is!
Shut out the sun; hop, skip, or run to the grocery store before the red hair dye sells out, and the brown eyeliner has left the shelves.
For those who refuse to conform: lock your doors and close your windows.
The time is now.
If you think I am a ginger hater:
My boyfriend is ¼ ginger.
I have a great-aunt twice removed who was a ginger.
I have freckles on my cheeks and shoulders.
I am pale.
I embrace all walks of life.
I watched two drunken episodes of Law and Order last night. This is the product.
“I’m going to stir my brandy with a nail – I’m gonna guzzle that poison down.”
No comments:
Post a Comment