The year 2015. That was supposed to be the year to end all butt problems. Those were supposed to be the surgeries that fixed my problems… forever.
Because 93% of people who get the surgery I got, to fix the problem I had, never see the problem again.
“So you’re telling me there’s a chance!” ~Lloyd Christmas
Well, Universe… give this guy a gold sticker.
No, for real. Give me a gold medal, in fact.
Send all the best people to do lottery pools with me!
Because I am an odds breaker.
My butt and I… we say “eff you” to odds.
We’re gonna take the road less traveled. We’re gonna sit on the seat more uncomfortable. We’re gonna hang out with Lloyd and never see the big number that seems impossible, but only the chance that we still have to hit the glorious small ones.
Silly, Universe. You thought you could throw me in with the 93%?
Aw, heehhhwl no.
You know how stubborn I am. You know how much I hate being part of what people consider “normal.” You know I’d rather hang with a small group of my weirdo outcast friends than a giant group of Star-Bellied Sneetches. I’m all about the small side of the numbers.
The year 2016. I can see the made-for-tv movie titles now: The Monster of Yonder Pass Returns. It’s going to be my year to have the most epic butt problems imaginable. I can just feel it. Literally.
(PS. Does reverse psychology work on the Universe? I hope so, because I’m sitting in the surgeon’s office as we speak, just waiting that fun *universal* wait…)
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing