The Gerson

Listen everybody.  I don’t do drugs, I don’t drink and I sure as hell don’t watch ABC’s critically acclaimed show, Grey’s Anatomy, in my free time just to see Patrick Dempsey take his shirt off.  Now, some people might say: “Julian, you’re missing out.  We’re all getting drunk/getting high/getting in touch with our feminine sides!  Why are you so lame?”  To which I respond: “I already am drunk on life and high on living my dreams. Also, getting in touch with my feminine side is the last thing I have to worry about, because I have all six seasons of Grey’s on tape!  And no, you can’t borrow it.”  Being high on life is great because everywhere you go, everything seems really funny and ridiculous. However, it isn’t so much fun during exams or screenings of Schindler’s List because if you act high, you just come off as obnoxious or a nazi.  Also, you’re hungry EVERY SINGLE SECOND OF THE DAY and the never-ending munchies are REALLY EXPENSIVE.

But don’t let all of these downsides make you think that being high on life sucks.  No, it’s actually pretty awesome.  You see, I’m not really a shy kind of guy, but when I’m at a party, I just go off into a corner and sing quietly to myself.  However, when I’m just soaring above the clouds on the glorious substance of life, I venture out from my dark space and sometimes, some magical stuff goes down.  The best possible example is what happened a few weekends ago.

I was just hanging with a bunch of friends, being chill and what not when someone put on a song I liked.  Let’s just say that the year was 1950, the song was Joseph McCarthy and I was America, that’s how much I was into it.  So, I get up, I start ambling about, doing some average moves, you know, rolling the dice, doing the robot, the Condoleeza Rice. But then, I get really into it.  I start picking up speed.  Now I’m really dancing, rocking the Siberian Walrus, the French pastry chef, even the pregnant Mary Poppins.  However, all of these dance moves, as intense as they may be, will never live up to what came next: the Gerson.  Yes, I invented a dance.  And yes, it’s the new hip thing in Norway.  It goes like this.

First, put your hands together like you’re arm wrestling yourself because no one likes you enough to do things with you. Next, start skipping in place, without going too high. Third, start moving your clasped hands in a windmill-like motion.  Fourth and most importantly, take the most ridiculous, over-the-top grin you can slap on your face and wear the shit out of it.  That is the Gerson.  Don’t worry, you’ll never actually be able to pull it off.  But you’ll look cool trying.


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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