Every year my birthday rolls around, and old man becomes older man. Year in, year out.
It’s inevitable, just like my death, which will ironically enough be the end of my birthdays.
April Fools Day is also occurring once a year, and just like birthdays, it’s pretty much a loaf of bullshit.
Everyone posts some dumb shit on their Facebook, like
“I quit my job.”
“I’m a robot.”
Or, my personal favorite,
Yes, “friends” it’s true, it’s not my birthday, but it is April Fools Day, and even though I’ve been running this stupid joke for three years, and even if I post on Facebook that it’s not my birthday, it still won’t stop the glorious notifications from rolling in.
Pictures of cakes.
Happy birthday’s by the hundreds.
It really makes me feel warm inside.
You guys care so much about me.
But on the other hand, it also makes me see what kind of strange dystopian world we live in, were so many people know each other so well, yet don’t know anything about them at all.
I mean, I know what you had for breakfast, and what time you went to bed, and I know what you look like in a bikini, sipping some lovely tropical drink, but I don’t know the most basic stuff about my Facebook friends, unless, of course they tell me.
And when Facebook tells me, I believe it.
I guess this is why so many people are depressed and lonely, even though the world is connected like never before.
It’s probably similar to the strange feeling of boredom we all feel sitting in front of the Internet, wondering what to look at next.
It’s not that we’ve seen it all, it’s just that we probably long for actual human reaction.
Physical, human contact.
Not some weird box that distorts everything.
I bumped into a girl that I knew the other day. We stopped. Smiled at each other.
“How are you?”
“Great, and you? What have you been up to?”
“Well, just work, then I went back to France to see my family.”
After a few minutes I realized that not only did I not know this girl was French, and that I had no clue what her job was, I didn’t even know her name.
I was just smiling, looking at a pretty girl, who’s pictures I had seen, possibly over and over and over and over again, but when she was right there in the flesh, I realized how far from friends we actually were.
Could she fill the shoes of the perfect being I had created in my head?
Oh well, it’s still better than looking for Playboys in the woods behind the hospital.
Maybe she’ll wish me a happy birthday. I’d like that.
2 thoughts on “These people thought it was my birthday? YOU’RE NOT GONNA BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!”
I saw your gig tonight, and think you would do better without the rape jokes. Once would be too much, but three rape jokes? You might have noticed that especially those bits did not get you a positive response from the audience, especially the one about how the woman with no hands wouldn’t be able to stop you.
Other than that, I thought your gig tonight was pretty good.
Thanks for the heads up. I just wanna point out that the jokes about the woman without hands and eyes has zero references to rape. I say she wouldn’t be able to see what I look like. I guess just saying I want to have sex with a girl without hands implies I mean I wanna rape her? I’m into consensual sex with an imaginary woman without hands. Anyway. Thanks for coming and thank you for the backwards compliment. PS. I felt like the Monkey rapes a frog bit got a very positive response. Either way, what do I know?