Saturday, October 22, 2011

Dave's a Dick (7 of ?)


"Domo plush. Excellent condition. Measures about two feet tall when standing). See ruler in picture for sitting height.

Asking much less than I paid so price is firm. If you're reading this ad, it is still available."


From: "Kijiji Reply (from ************" <>
Sent: Saturday, October 22, 2011 10:42:53 AM
Subject: Reply to your "DOMO - HUGE (almost TWO FEET TALL) plush Domokun Domo-Kun" Ad on Kijiji
Hello! The following is a reply to your "DOMO - HUGE (almost TWO FEET TALL) plush Domokun Domo-Kun" Ad on Kijiji:
From: ************
Hey man can i buy him for 20$? Txt me..

On 2011-10-13, at 8:28 AM, Handsome Dave <> wrote:

Dear Jose,

The answer to your question was clearly stated in the listing. Therefore, instead of repeating myself, I thought I would write you a poem to express my appreciation to you as a potential customer.

There once was a man maybe named Jose, 
With cheeks quite soft and ever so rosy,
He wanted to pay twenty for Domo,
Even though I already said no no,
And now he probably feels embarrassed that he made such an elementary mistake and hundreds of people will get to read this when I post it on the internets.

You know, I'm no stranger to embarrassment. One time in grade six, my teacher (whose name I can't state for obvious reasons so we'll just call her Ms. Bitchface) gave our class an assignment which involved us researching something (yes, essentially we could research anything we wanted) and then do a report on it in front of the class. We were asked to partner up. Grade six was a bad year for me because I was just starting to grow know, down THERE...and all my friends were already boasting aphro-sized mounds of pubic hair. They were all about the girls while I was still interested in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle cereal and my Alf pog set.

Remember pogs? Those things were all the rage in the 90s. Little round seals for milk cartons with pictures of skulls or candy bars or lovable alien puppets that ate cats! My friends and I would often challenge younger kids in the school to games with the pogs. Of course, none of us had the slightest idea how to play the game, so without fail we would end up pushing the kids into the gutter and stealing their pogs for ourselves. Some pogs sold for over $100! That's right, $100 for a small cardboard disc with some stupid illustration! If I knew then what I know now, I'd stop counterfeiting three dollar bills (which were wildly unsuccessful) and start making copies of those expensive pogs.

But I digress. My friends were all starting to become men and I was still a boy. As a result, I was left behind. I lost a lot of my friends because we lost what we once had in common. I know, it's a sad story. Feel free to run to the washroom and grab a tissue for your tears (but do not use the tissue as a masturbatory catcher's mitt...this is not a sexy story, pervert). Anyway, long story short, I had few friends and in Ms. Bitchface's class I had NONE. So I had to partner with the biggest loser in our grade. His name was Shawn and he was a piece of shit. I'm speaking figuratively, of course.

Shawn was into planes at the time, and despite my eagerness to do some research on The Polka Dot Door or the sex lives of Hal Johnson and Joanne McLeod (you just know Hal was the kind of dude that wouldn't give Joanne's Body a that's ParticipACTION) he refused to research anything but some stupid bullshit jet that he was all half-chubbing about. Have you ever had to research something that doesn't interest you? I realize that you did not even do research (by research I mean reading the six sentences that is my ad) before sending me the email, and that's something you ARE interested in! So I'm confident you share my pain of being forced to research things that are completely uninteresting.
Don't get me wrong. I would have been eager to research that damn jet if it was operated by a member of the elite fighting force known as G.I. Joe. Unfortunately it was just some real-life aircraft.

We had about three weeks to do the research and prepare our presentation, and of course we waited until the day before to even begin working on the project. I ended up having to go over to his home to work on the project because his lesbian cowgirl mother (seriously, she wore a cowboy hat ALL THE TIME and appeared to be the after picture of a botched sex-change operation) refused to let him leave the house on a school night. Shawn's house was just awful! The foyer had linoleum that had been all torn up by his large vicious black dog that looked at me from behind a steel gate as though he wanted to eat my soul after he tore my flesh from my bones. The house smelled of body odour that they were attempting to mask with those old-school Glade Plug-Ins. You remember the commercials for those? "Plug it in, plug it innnnnnnnn." It was a catchy tune. Too bad the product worked for two days and then just smelled of burning wax for the following twenty-eight days. Anyway, what I remember most about the home is that Shawn got soup for dinner while his mother made T-bone steaks for herself and her "close personal friend" (a woman who looked like the before picture of a botched sex-change operation).

So we went into his room to research this jet. All we had to work with was one library book and some page 39 blurb that he clipped from a newspaper ages before. We wrote a shocking amount based on essentially no research material (I think we managed three quarters of a page - double spaced) and took a break after that harrowing ten minutes of work to play Nintendo. I don't remember the name of the game, but I remember it involved a tank of some sort and Shawn wouldn't let me play because he was a piece of shit.

The next day was our presentation. We had one of those large cardboard folding displays that really should have been covered with facts and figures. All it had on it was one picture of the plane that I had drawn earlier that day from memory, our two paragraphs of research, and a stain where I'd accidentally spilled my chocolate milk while gluing the picture and report to it. Shawn talked first and basically read the report word for word, leaving me with nothing. The look on Ms. Bitchface's face was that of bitchiness and I could tell she was getting ready to draw a big unfriendly F on my report card. My turn came to present my material. Having nothing, I panicked. I began to laugh.

Oh did I laugh! It started with a giggle. Then as I saw the confused faces in the audience, I began to chuckle. Then a snicker and a cackle! Then I guffawed! Before I knew it, I was rolling around on the filthy floor laughing my fucking ass off. Seriously, I'm the reason that "LMFAO" and "ROTFLMFAO" is used...look it up! I remember my arch-nemesis Michelle (she was a white trash dirty whore) looking down at my while I rolled around in hysterics. She appeared shocked, as though she had suddenly realized she made a mistake making an enemy of me because I was now making the Joker look like a serious fellow.

The Joker, by the way, is a fictitious villain in the DC Comics universe. Often being pursued by Batman, the Joker is arguably Batman's oldest and most dangerous foe. You can read more about this obscure character by following the link to the Wikipedia page. Since I know you have trouble with research, allow me to provide you the link:

You can also watch a quick video of the different characters that have portrayed him in film over the years:

All right, I'll wrap this up. The point I am trying to make is that despite the fact that I was laughing like crazy, I was deeply embarrassed. Embarrassed because I did not come to the presentation prepared and embarrassed because my peers were all watching in astonishment as I completely destroyed any semblance of a social life in front of their eyes. I was also embarrassed that I did not have a lush bush of pubic hair yet.

But what matters is that I survived. I didn't die of embarrassment and neither will you after your foolish email. You may not realize it now, but in a few years you'll think back and say to yourself "that Dave guy with the Domo that he wouldn't let me buy...he was a good guy. I'm going to make a real change in my life! And the first thing I'm going to do is RESEARCH how that's done. Thank you Dave! Thank you for saving my life."

You know what, Jose? You're welcome!



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