Thursday, July 17, 2008

You, yes you... no, the other... yes, you. Right.

Hey, Guy!

You. No, on the left. No, with the ironic facial hair. Yeah, you.

I just want to ask... Isn't that a lot of pressure to put on 6 straggly hairs? Hairs which, I'm sorry to say, really look more like something left in a drain at the M0tel 6 than an actual intentional growth. I mean, ironic is asking a bit much of them. Not that they're not trying their best. It's just that, irony used to require mental effort, thoughtful arguments. Socrates even had his very own kind. But you, you apparently just need to randomly miss a spot when you shave and presto! Irony.

I'm just having a bit of trouble with the continuum. Socrates, Sophocles, Voltaire and... your chin. Hmmm. Nope, not buying it.

It could be cosmic irony, I guess. You're the dupe of cruel fate, in a world where facial hair is hawt, and that lip lint is the best you can do.

Or, or, or... maybe you meant it as an example of dramatic irony, where we, the audience or iron-ee know more than you, the perpetrator or iron-er. As in, we know without a doubt that that sorry ass goatee-lite is never going to get you laid. And you obviously don't.

Or you'd shave already.



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