Monday, August 2, 2010

They simply look better…

You're an ugly little fuck, aren't you? Chances are, your mother was lying when she recklessly blurted out she "could" love your face. And that one would tend to run out of euphemisms in any conversation involving your 'unconventional' good looks and excluding blasphemous profanity.

But if anything, the universe has a profound sense of fairness. I'm sure the powers that be gave you that winning personality and biting sense of humour while screwing you in the posterior in every other department. In that case, why so serious, jack?

Could it be that you may have realized that the world does indeed revolve around the good looking Gigafucks around you? That as and when it comes to the propagation of the species (and all the benefits that entails), the people chosen would most likely be them over you. That too by any jury including not only the average innocent bystander; but also your own mother. (see above)
Let's work with that for now. In fact, break up the mob, put down the Molotovs and the pitchfork, and we'll talk.

Get used to the basic idea that someone better looking than you at your relatively average plane of existence will get the bigger better deal every single time. And those who haven't gotten it yet are looking for it.
Think about all those girlfriends/boyfriends falling into the "one who got away" category.
Lets face it, how many lines do you remember from that beautiful sonnet about her intoxicating wit or his bleeding loyalty? That compared to every interstellar fuck who knows how she walks in beauty like the night.

Perhaps you'll realize the mitigating value of a blinding set of 32 when you understand that you yourself are just as prone to the marketing assault of beauty over substance. Why else would you ask your girlfriend/boyfriend to lose that extra kg? Or go 'awww' over photos of kittens?

You, Quasimodo, are living in some else's world. And you're humping it all wrong.

Oh… and since I know you only look at the pictures…
To put things in perspective, I'd (still) sleep with her.

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