Jonathan and the Terrible, Horrible, Very Good Day

Oh man… My parents are gonna kill me.

Jord made me do it. It's all his fault. I never wanted to wake up at 8:00 am on a Sunday morning to go wait outside a Best Buy for two hours with a bunch of thirty-year-old virgins in order to buy a video game console. Like Spooner, I'm just an unemployed college student masturbating my way through sophomore year. What the fuck am I doing spending $200 on a Gamecube? Do you know what I could buy with $200? A DVD and 12 blow jobs in North Hollywood. How's this for money management? I chose a machine over 12 blow jobs from nasty ass hookers and a personal copy of Chill Factor. Shee-it. I'm such a fanboy consumer, and an impulsive one at that. Why couldn't I have waited like I did with the Game Boy Advance? Hell, I got a free Game Boy Advance from my cousin's kid this summer. A free Gamecube from him too couldn't have been that unreasonable, right? RIGHT? Awww, jeez. I'm not even a hardcore gamer. The last time I seriously played video games was this past spring when Conker's Bad Fur Day came out. Goddammit. I can't believe I blew $200 on something that'll probably be used less than my stockpile of condoms. [sigh] But it's so cute and sexy…

NO! It's not…no…it's……NO! Jon has no desire to play Super Smash Bros. Melee. Yes, he does. No, he doesn't. Yes, he no. No, he yes yes he yes NO. [pause] Fuckin' A! For the record, buying the Gamecube was wroooooiiiiightWRONG! It was wrong of me, and I blame Jord for my fall from grace. I think we all know that I've kinda devolved into Jord's personal bitch, but this time he's gone too far. Why you gotta go around warping people's fragile little minds with your campy rhetoric, Roberts? "Simply holding the Gamecube controller will make you orgasm." Ugh. What can I say? His relentless one-man marketing campaign slowly wore down my self-control and I caved in to perceptual temptation. Oh and here's the best part:


None. No accessories either. I chickened out. What's more, I still haven't opened the console box yet. I'm pretty much voluntarily stuck right now with a heavy box that has the entertainment value of a dead dog. The Gamecube has just been sitting in my room since I bought it, taunting me from inside the box. Touch me, baby! Pop my cherry! Fuck. Sometimes, I feel I've got to run away. I've got to get away from the pain it drives into the heart of me. To make things right, it needs someone to hold it tight. And it thinks love is to play, but I'm sorry, I don't play that way. Help…

Jesus ranch! Americans shelled out $93.5 million this weekend to see she-boy here.

the sexual fantasies of gummy bears

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