Centuries ago, man developed a quality wherein he (and she!) would feel pathetically sorry for their own lot in life. Back then, as brevity had not yet been invented, people were prone to saying, “Drat this cursed existence!” But DTCE didn’t really take off.
Fortunately, DTCE was reinvented when Al Gore discovered what the ancient Greeks called “the Internet.” DTCE was dubbed FML. And in this week’s FML Friday I respond to three individuals whose cursed existence is… well, not nearly so cursed as they might think.
You’ve got mail!
Today, I was so excited to hear my phone get a message that I jumped out of my seat. It was the TV, advertising texting plans. FML
When I started to read this, I thought your mad, pathetic dash for some form of human interaction would result in slap-stick hilarity whereby you leap over the couch, smash your head on the ceiling fan which removes the top of your skull, and you make it to your phone just before you brain falls out of your head and you crash to the floor. Then, with your last moment of strength you manage a look at the screen of your phone and are met with NO MESSAGES.
But no. Not only was this event anti-climactic for you, it was the same for the rest of us. You’re boring. And you’ll die alone.
Face, meet crotch!
Today, while on the train to university, I realized it was my stop and quickly stood up to get off. Or I would have, if my leg hadn’t gone to sleep and caused me to fall, landing face first into the crotch of the old guy in front of me. FML
I’ve never understood people who can’t stand up when one of their legs falls asleep. Sure, it feels strange. And when the blood flow returns to your leg it’s like pins and needles. But just because you can’t really feel it doesn’t mean your leg stops working. I can only conclude that a small but powerful part of you really wanted to go crotch-diving and your id manage to take control of your body.
In the words of Freud, sometimes a cigar is a penis. I think this is a particularly apt and completely factual quote that applies in your case.
In the name of science!
Today, the magic of witnessing a sheep giving birth was ruined for me when I slipped and fell in the puddle of birth fluids. FML
There is no question that witnessing a birth is pretty crazy. But it’s not magic. What it is, is a simple and daily occurrence on this planet, and ascribing any “magical” or “miraculous” qualities to it is an affront to science, and the billions of creatures who lived on this planet before us. Shame.
Frankly, I’m glad you were downed by a sheep’s after-birth. I feel like you deserve it for failing to realize that what you witnessed was science, not some Hogwarts-esque bullshit. Now hit the showers, you’ve got some placenta on you.