Happy Birthday Vincent
Hi, nice to meet you. You can call me Quadro.
I've been living in an apartment for almost a year now. My friend Vincent takes care of me. And my mates. It's not that difficult since we're motionless and do not require much food and entertainment.
You see, the sole purpose of my life is to be sat on. Over and over again.
I've seen lots of asses throughout my life. Tiny frog asses, big asses, and BIG-ASS asses. Ass that reminded me of melons, reminded me of a marshmallow, and asses that reminded me of the Universe.
No, no, no. Please stay. I'm fine talking about asses. I mean, it's my job. I'm here just to share a day of my life.
You see, yesterday was Vincent's birthday. He invited lots of friends over for a pot luck dinner.
So people brought food, refreshments, and some other things I wouldn't consider as food. Still, people eat them out of courtesy.
Everyone was talking while the TV and radio were blasting a mixture of Who Want's to be a Millionairre and awful Canto Pop songs.
And then I saw this fat guy. The same guy who brought cheapskate take away dumplings for the pot luck.
Obviously he was bored. He looked around. Started refilling his glasses. Talked to some random people, most of the time asking them to give way. He talked to this girl without even getting to know her name. He must be attached. In the end he settled on carving Vincent's roast lamb for the whole room.
You're wondering: Why am I talking about this guy. Because:
HE'S THE ONLY WHO BOTHERED TO SIT ON ME!
Now, my friends and I. We're made to be sat on. Vincent arranged us in a way so that people would sit on us. But noooo, all these mammals do is making us hang on to their jackets and handbags.What are we? Freakin clothe hangers? And where do they sit? On. The. Floor.
It's an insult I tell you. To me and all my mates.
These people, especially the girls. Do they even realise some of them are showing 'Grand Valley' cleavages while they're sitting down? Worse still, do they realise how EASY it was for the rest of the world to admire and appreciate them? I've seen at least three guys, walking past this girl and all stopped to tie, untie and tie their shoelaces.
Society nowadays. I don't get it. People dressing up as golfers to a birthday party. Guys are like vultures circling around food, then girls. Conversation so lame they have to talk about other people's lives. And most of all, chairs like me were bought to be displayed instead of being sat on like how it was written in the manual.
Gheez, really. I feel like an IKEA whore.
I've been living in an apartment for almost a year now. My friend Vincent takes care of me. And my mates. It's not that difficult since we're motionless and do not require much food and entertainment.
You see, the sole purpose of my life is to be sat on. Over and over again.
I've seen lots of asses throughout my life. Tiny frog asses, big asses, and BIG-ASS asses. Ass that reminded me of melons, reminded me of a marshmallow, and asses that reminded me of the Universe.
No, no, no. Please stay. I'm fine talking about asses. I mean, it's my job. I'm here just to share a day of my life.
You see, yesterday was Vincent's birthday. He invited lots of friends over for a pot luck dinner.
So people brought food, refreshments, and some other things I wouldn't consider as food. Still, people eat them out of courtesy.
Everyone was talking while the TV and radio were blasting a mixture of Who Want's to be a Millionairre and awful Canto Pop songs.
And then I saw this fat guy. The same guy who brought cheapskate take away dumplings for the pot luck.
Obviously he was bored. He looked around. Started refilling his glasses. Talked to some random people, most of the time asking them to give way. He talked to this girl without even getting to know her name. He must be attached. In the end he settled on carving Vincent's roast lamb for the whole room.
You're wondering: Why am I talking about this guy. Because:
HE'S THE ONLY WHO BOTHERED TO SIT ON ME!
Now, my friends and I. We're made to be sat on. Vincent arranged us in a way so that people would sit on us. But noooo, all these mammals do is making us hang on to their jackets and handbags.What are we? Freakin clothe hangers? And where do they sit? On. The. Floor.
It's an insult I tell you. To me and all my mates.
These people, especially the girls. Do they even realise some of them are showing 'Grand Valley' cleavages while they're sitting down? Worse still, do they realise how EASY it was for the rest of the world to admire and appreciate them? I've seen at least three guys, walking past this girl and all stopped to tie, untie and tie their shoelaces.
Society nowadays. I don't get it. People dressing up as golfers to a birthday party. Guys are like vultures circling around food, then girls. Conversation so lame they have to talk about other people's lives. And most of all, chairs like me were bought to be displayed instead of being sat on like how it was written in the manual.
Gheez, really. I feel like an IKEA whore.



