Life is always better with the mentally challenged. Oops, I'm sorry. The proper nomenclature is retard. I'm starting to become suspicious that my fairy godmother is one of these retards, or some other serendipitous relationship is going on between us. See, the last time I encountered a good retard situation was last summer. I was working at a different store (I work retail), and it was 9am, and I heard yelling, and as I looked down from the second floor, I noticed a chaperon and a challenged fella having a dispute in front of a SPRINT store. My curiosity got the best of me, so I watched to see where it would go. They feuded for a minute just before he lobbed off his pants and ran full fledged into the SPRINT store.
The time before that, my friends and I were driving around getting high and listening to the moody blues. Patrick, the friend driving, was taking us to a jam band show. I listen to punk rock not jam band, but when I'm stoned, anything is alright with me. We were there for a good half hour before I looked around and noticed that about 75-90% of the crowd was wheel chair bound and/or retarded eer challenged. Being stoned and incapable of not laughing, I lunged forward in tears whilst grabbing another cohort to join in. It was quite uncontrollable. Especially sense it was at a jam band show. What better music for people who normally sit around and veg out than music that makes people want to sit around and veg out?
Then comes the other day. I decided to longboard from Montrose Harbor to Navy Pier. If you are familiar with Chicago, that is a pretty long distance. I did it though. TWICE in one day! Anyway, I finally returned to my car where there was a tent set up next to me with a bunch of people sitting around with fishing poles. I hadn't a care in the world at that moment. All that went through my head was: Air, water, girlfriend, Rotofugi.
I must of sat there a good 40 minutes cooling off and listening to Alice in Chains. Every now and then, I would notice a face looking into my car. I wasn't too concerned. I considered it extreme people watching. Something like if Steve Irwin was the human hunter rather than crocodile hunter...Finally, my brain kicked back in, and I noticed something to my right. There was a guy standing up, rocking back and forth, with his fists clenched, and head and neck cocked forward. It looked like he wanted to fight somebody...constantly......over and over...I finally looked over to the side and noticed his face looked a little weird and he had a bunch of umm marks all over his body. He was retarded!!!!!! And so was everybody else. WTF! I had parked right next to a retarded fishing trip, and they were watching me the whole time.
Now you're probably wondering: Well, they're retarded, what's the harm? Let me explain:
I'm in Santa Monica a few years back in a public restroom. All the stalls were full, and there was only one urinal that was open. I chose to go for it despite the "guy code". FUck it. When ya gotta go, ya gotta go. I started doing my business, and it was hard. There was a lot coming out. Anyway, about 20 seconds into it, I noticed the guy next to me had his face turned towards me. Hmm, I thought.
He didn't move his head at all. It was a constant turn, so I let my curiosity win (of course), and I looked over at him. He was retarded. His head was big, had two teeth, huge scruffy dirty hair, and on top of it, he was jerking off to the sight me peeing. How do ya do?! I burst out laughing and ran away.
This is the legacy I will leave when I die. Some people are loser magnets, and some people are asshole magnets. I, for one, am neither. I am a retard magnet.
Thank you. PEace.