so i read about people doing all these amazing things via blogs. wild things in crazy places. and then i’m like I WANT TO DO THOSE THINGS. i want to do these great storyworthy things. and then i realize something. these people…most of them are cool for having experienced these things. but most of them are more or less the same person as before they left PLUS all these crazy stories.
yeah of course your experiences change you. but in my interactions with you, you are the same kid except you have all these sexy attention-getting stories. anyway, my point is. if i went and did these crazy things,all i would try and do was to make sure i could tell BANGASS stories (whoops, i think i meant KICKASS, oh well. new word, people) after i came back when out at night so as to raise eyebrows over martinis. because really. it’s just one big popularity contest. storywise. “well, when i was taming lions in africa…i noticed we needed some hot sauce to accompany our evening meal. thus began the night that made me the man i am today.” how are you supposed to beat that with a commuter horror story? HOW?! it can’t be done, folks.
yeah i was the kid who listened to aesop’s fables and when asked what the moral was…said “the crow should have been in more a-list films so as to cement his firm superiority over the fox despite his lack of smarts. he was OBVI hotter all along, naw mean?”
usually when someone tells me a great story, i rack my memory to match theirs point by point. that’s why i was crushed when a good friend of mine revealed to me, after i was smitten by his virtuosity at life adventures, that he tended to embellish his stories, and by embellish, he meant MAKE UP SIGNIFICANT DETAILS IN STORIES and/or replace himself as the main character in stories that happened to his friends. boy was that a buzzkill. you have no idea.