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May 16, 2006
This Takes the Cake
Sup, peeps? Charlie here, back again in the blog saddle, featuring my newest pose: “The Chaz”. “The Chaz” is a lot like Dr. Evil’s signature move, only about 6 inches to the right. It’s gonna be big, I tell you.
But I’m not here to tell you about yet another cultural paradigm I’m about to shift. At this point, it would be tiresome to once again tell you how my slightest action sets about a seismic change in Western civilization. No, I’m here to tell you that you all missed my first birthday party last weekend. If you’re wondering if your invite got lost in the mail, don’t worry: you weren’t invited. This was more exclusive a party that any of those slut bunnies on “My Super Sweet Sixteen” could even dream of. You weren’t invited. Stop crying. Actually, go ahead, cry; your tears sustain me.
All in all, it went pretty well. Got a ton of presents, as expected. Getting the key to the city was a nice touch. We even hired some exotic dancers. Everything went fantastic. Except for this one part. This was confusing to me. I think my godfather took some pictures of the event. Let’s see if we can figure out what went down, in hindsight.
Ah, yes, here we go. Daddy brought over a large, round object after fastening me to my high chair. I didn’t wanna be in the high chair, as I was having fun giving the majority of the attendees lower back pain due to my incessant need to walk, coupled only by my incessant need to have someone holding my arms at all times lest I faceplent and end up looking like The Elephant Man’s baby. But he put me there anyways, and everyone there gathered around and started singing some song. I don’t know what it was. Certainly wasn’t Kelly Clarkson’s new jam. That’s the bomb.
After careful examination of the object, and cautiously weighing my options, I decided that I should tunnel my way through it. The crowd took great delight in this decision. I’m sure a lesser mortal would have made the intuitive leap to put some of this into his/her mouth, since everyone else my age thinks everything is edible, but not I. This is what separates me from the plebeians. It does not, however, separate me from the common beaver.
There. Destruction complete. I was perfectly satisfied with the carnage, but still perplexed by the overall endeavor. Towards what destiny did I decimate this disc of doom? Why did the hands of fate (see above, to the left) choose me for this task? What is the meaning of this life? Clearly, this was the most existential moment of my young life. And I didn’t even get to wear a funny hat while experiencing it. What a total ripoff.
***
If any of you meek souls can shed a hint of light on this situation, I would accept any answers. I might scoff at you and send you back to the hovel from which you came upon hearing your suggestion, but I would hear you first. This much do I promise.
Posted by Ryan McGee at May 16, 2006 10:36 AM