Unfortunately for me, I am prone to misfortune.  You’d think that someone with the charisma and integrity as elevated as I possess would be immune to such childish issues like bad luck and such, but it is not the case.  Let me give you one example.  This weekend, it snowed a lot.  Me, being the extremely smart person that I am, ( Honestly, you’re not.  No one thinks you’re smart and if they say they do, its only because they want to get in your pants.  Oh, you flatter me so.) wore my super awesome sneakers outside when there was clearly black ice (Julian, you’re such a racist) and large piles of snow.  While trying to avoid one of those piles, I fell and dropped all of my history books into a puddle.  In the midst of cursing out all divine entities and making sure that my shoes were OK, I totally forgot about my papers.  Forty-five seconds later, I managed to stumble inside, tears streaming down my face and screaming for help.  The basic gist of that weird paragraph was that either God hates me or that I have really bad luck.  I think it’s a mix of both.  The tough thing about being unlucky is that there’s nothing you can do about it.  I’ve tried praying, (Unsuccessfully, as evidenced by my fit of rage.) meditation, varying degrees of racial tolerance (I’m already very tolerant.  Many of my friends are African-American.  I’m basically from the hood.  You might as well call me a hoodlum.) and even kindness.  All have failed.  I guess that this post was my way of saying that if I shop up at your door in forty years homeless and destitute, my situation will not be able to be pinned on alcohol or drugs or any other probable reason, instead I will have the solid excuse of simple bad luck.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I haven’t showered in four months and I need food.  Seriously, get out of my way.


About julian822

This blog is informal to say the least. It's almost like an online journal, filled with stories that I find funny, interesting things/links and anything else that comes to my mind. Enjoy.
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