Beardy, Scarfy, and Me!

Beardy McFace and I were at Wal-Mart late last night looking for mattress pads and Goldfish crackers. Lo and behold, we saw Scarfy McGee in the Winter Menswear Section, undoubtedly buying a new scarf or some linseed oil for his favorite silly red beanie cap. Beardy and I shared a knowing chuckle and walked to the front, our arms overflowing with food and bedding.

I always use the self-checkout. Always. I don't care if there are twenty empty lanes operated by twenty lonesome cashiers wearing twenty solitary vests, I'll wait forty minutes to scan my own goods. There's something almost erotic about avoiding actual human contact for weeks at a time. That explains why I beat off fourteen times a day.

Sitting in class, Scarfy McGee bores me. He still wears the scarf and the cap; the dog is conspicuously absent today. He still asks the most ridiculous questions, ones that I can answer despite the fact that I write these entries in class instead of taking notes. It's just boring now. I'm bored with tripping him as he walks down the hall. I'm bored with spitting on him and blaming Beardy McFace. I'm tired of hating Scarfy.

It will pass.

Curly McSue and I were talking and discreetly fingerbanging in the back of the classroom when we began to make light conversation with the two people in front of us. He was Carlos McSanchez, a Mexican-American boy with puppydog eyes and a thinning mustache. She was Fakey McTan, an orange girl who lived her life under ultraviolet bulbs when she wasn't getting her hair highlighted. I couldn't really pay attention to them, though. Firstly, I was getting my pinky all stinky. Secondly, I was mesmerized by the glare coming off of Fakey McTan's metal face. Eight gold rings in her ears, a silver stud in her nose, and a green hoop in her lip--especially distracting in contrast to her bright orange skin.

I hate tan people. At least people who tan on purpose. I suppose Carlos McSanchez can't help being tan. Why does our society view Oompa-Loompa as an attractive hue? Lindsay Lohan was foxy when she was a fair-skinned maiden, but lost it when she became all whorish and burnt-sienna. Fakey McTan is a cute girl, save for her complexion and robot face. Curly McSue is perfect--dark hair, pale skin, eighty-pounds-dripping-wet, and on my finger.