By

Daniele Zedda

The Yoga & Stretch Pant Harem

I’m not sure how you’re putting yoga pants and stretch pants on that fit body and you expect me not to look. I’ve got self control, but you’re asking me to fight every natural instinct I have as a man to not glance at those cheeks and or that camel toe. I mean WTF ladies! I’ll tell you this… I’m going to look and I’m going to do it without you catching me. If I can look more than once and for a few minutes, I’m going to do that as well. Don’t get mad if you catch me staring, you should take it as a compliment and realize your workouts are actually working out.

Not Paying Attention

How in the hell do you walk forward and look left? Recently multiple people have walked into me while looking the opposite way and then are surprised that we collide with force. First of all, I’m about 210 LBS dry, you need to watch where the hell you are going. I almost killed a soccer mom last week with my chest. Poor woman was every bit of five feet tall and slammed into me. She said, “Sorry I didn’t see you”. I’m like, “You weren’t paying attention”. I’ve avoided people before because I was looking out and noticed they were in the world between walls and decided to save them. Some people though, I just like to watch them crash and burn.

Standing In Line

What makes you think by getting closer to me in a line, the line will go faster? Are you trying to smell my hair or something? If so, just ask. I’ll let you, then you tell the shampoo I use and we can move on. Standing close to me like that is just going to make me mad and probably cause me to do or say something real ignorant. Do yourself a favor and move back a few steps.

2nd Grade B.S.

While sitting at a cafe, I started thinking about my elementary school teachers. While in second grade I was forced to transfer classes from Mrs. Morris to Mrs. Gestvantner. Mrs. Morris couldn’t handle me apparently and someone more stern was needed to handle me day to day. It was B.S. I remember this time we had firemen visiting the school and one child from each class would get to shoot the fire hose. Mrs. Morris had us play the quiet game to decide who would get to shoot the hose. Every kid in the class was quiet as could be and she still picked her favorite little bitch Holly. She picked her favorite kid regardless of the B.S. game she told us we were playing. For some reason I reflected on this and thought, Mrs. Morris was full of shit, and so were most of my other elementary teachers.

Batman stole all his stuff from me. I could totally beat up Liam Neeson.

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