Reviewing Miami and then some. Gratuitous vulgarity included.

How I Started Writing For the New Times: Volume 2

I started writing stuff for the New Times when one of their editors read my stuff and wanted to give me a stupid column. The idea was “Ask a Frat Bro” where people would ask relationship advice and I would respond with terrible answers as given by a character called Fratty. I wrote two pitches, this is the second.

Dear Fratty,

I’ve been friends with a girl for a few years now. I’ve liked her all this time, but recently I realized that I’m in love with her. She considers me her best friend, confides in me about her relationship problems, and tells me she doesn’t know what she would do without me. I’m caught deep in the friend zone and all I want to do is get out of it by telling her I love her. Is that the right thing to do, or am I approaching the situation wrong?

Sincerely,
El Amigo

———-

HAHAHA BRO THAT SUCKS HARD, B. I’VE NEVER BEEN IN YOUR SITUATION BECAUSE I’M ALPHA AS FUCK, BUT I THINK I HAVE A SOLUTION TO YOUR PROBLEM THAT WILL END WITH YOU DEFINITELY GETTING THE VADGE YOU WANT. NEVER HEARD OF A VADGE? IT’S YOUR VAGINA BADGE, AND YOU EARN IT BY SMOOSHING YO GIRL.

IN MY FRAT, ALPHA SIGMA SIGMA, I GOT A BROTHER NAMED EDGAR ALLAN BRO. DUDE IS LEGIT AND SPITS POETRY LIKE JOHN MAYER AND JACK JOHNSON HAD AN AWESOME BABY THEY NAMED JOHNSON MAYER THAT SANG A BUNCH OF HOOBASTANK AND 30H!3 COVERS. HE WAS STUCK IN THE FRIEND ZONE WITH THIS FINE BITCH FROM KAPPA KAPPA KAPPA FOR A LONG-ASS TIME. IT WAS LIKE ALMOST TWO WEEKS BRO, SERIOUSLY. CHICK LOOKED RIDICULOUS THOUGH SO I CAN UNDERSTAND WHY HE WAITED 11 DAYS TO TAP THAT ASS LIKE WE TAP NATTY LIGHT KEGS AFTER OUR LACROSSE GAMES. ANYWAY, THIS GUY DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO GET HER TO RIP HER PANTIES APART SO HE WRITES SOME SICK POETRY ABOUT SOME GUY WITH POLIO BEING ABLE TO OVERCOME SOME SHIT AND PLAY FOOTBALL FOR NOTRE DAME. IT WAS BASICALLY FUCKING RUDY BUT LIKE SOME SHAKESPEARE SHIT I DON’T KNOW. HIS GIRL PUT OUT THAT NIGHT HAHAHA. THAT’S WHY WE CALL HIM EDGAR ALLAN BRO. ALSO BECAUSE HIS NAME IS EDGAR ALLAN.

BUT YOU AIN’T A POET THOUGH SO HERE’S WHAT YOU SHOULD DO. YOU SHOULD MAKE HER A HOMEMADE CARD THAT ON THE FRONT IT SAYS “I LOVE YOU… AND…” THEN WHEN SHE OPENS IT UP IT GOES “PSYCHE!!! HAHAHAHA JUST PLAYIN’.” SHE’LL BE LAUGHING AND SHIT, THAT’S WHEN YOU GO LIKE “NAH, BUT FOR REAL, I THINK YOU AND ME SHOULD HOOK UP.” IF SHE GETS ALL DEFENSIVE AND TELLS YOU YOU’RE LIKE A BROTHER AND SHE DOESN’T SEE YOU LIKE THAT, JUST BE LIKE, “WHATEVER, PEACE.” THEN YOU GO TO THE NEXT MIXER AND GRIND UP WHATEVER GIRL JUST FINISHED A KEG STAND.

NO OFFENSE BRO BUT YOU SOUND LIKE A CHUMP. COME TO THE ASS HOUSE AND I’LL INTRODUCE YOU TO BROSEIDON. DUDE GOT FIRED FOR NOT SHARING HIS WEED BUT HE USED TO INTERN FOR SOME CITY COUNCILMAN SO HE’S GOT A TON OF HOOKER CONNECTIONS.

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2 Comments to How I Started Writing For the New Times: Volume 2

  1. Sandra

    This is….awesome. Love the caps lock.

  2. Pingback: Orlando

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