So no one told you life was going to be this way? No they fucking didn’t, because you’re an alien from the planet Xanxorborg in the dimension C-1729. It’s not your fault that your species resembles
a pair of testicles. Like literally, you look like a scrotum with two giggle berries inside, just floating in the air. And not pleasant normal family jewels like the ones on Game of Thrones either. No, you look like one of those diseased varieties that a high school teacher shows her class and says “look you sluts, in addition to pregnancy and shame, this is what happens if you have sex before you get married.”
In addition to looking like a pair of walnuts inside a skin sack, your job’s a joke, you’re broke, and to top it all o , your love life’s DOA. You work a dead-end job as an accountant for a small law rm in Kansas City where they don’t pay you nearly enough. To make matters worse, you’re pretty sure your boss only hired you to get that affirmative action money. I mean who’s a bigger minority than a floating pair of balls in a sack?
In addition no girl you go on a date with ever texts you back. I guess the idea of dry humping with a giant nutsack just isn’t appealing to some people.
You know it’s kind of like you’re always stuck in second gear. Your shrink says you need to be more assertive, that you need to grow a bigger pair of cojones and get out there. You tell your shrink that somehow you don’t think that’s the problem because in addition to looking like a pair of huevos, your actual gonads that hang sort of awkwardly below you are actually quite large. So he proceeds to prescribe you anti-depressants. So you go to the pharmacy and pick up the drugs. You then realize that you don’t have a mouth since you are a floating pair of bollocks. So you start to cry. Of course you don’t have any eyes either, so instead you just get really sweaty and salty.
It’s really never been your day, your week, your month, or even your year, but you try to keep some hope. You just want someone who will be there for you when the rain starts to pour. Someone to cuddle with, who calls you her little raisins. You just want someone who will be there for you like you’ve been there before. You want some friends who will laugh at Shrek 3 with you and who you can watch the Disney Channel with. But most of all you want someone who will be there for you, because you’re there for them too.
Is that really too much for a floating testicle monster from the planet Xanxorborg in the dimension C-1729 to ask?