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You can’t spell Di(ego)

May 30, 2009

My good friend Diego was somewhat dismayed to hear that I had not yet written a blog post about him. He followed this expression of disappointment almost immediately by dragging me and Harry into the bathroom and locking us in.

Diego has recently undergone a tragic rejection, you see, and in his fits of trying to figure out why any girl would turn him down, he’s come to two simultaneous, contradictory (in my opinion) conclusions: 1. said girl is stupid because there’s definitely nothing wrong with him, and 2. he needs people to tell him how attractive he is to reassure him that there’s nothing wrong with him.

So he takes me and Harry into the bathroom because he needs the mirror. He makes us close our eyes while he arranges himself. (Harry eats parfait blindly, and I giggle like a loon.) When he lets us open our eyes, it is so that he can show us how good he looks shirtless. He needs the mirror to figure out how to flex, you see.

At this point I kind of lost it. I was laughing while I told him that, yes, he’s a very fit young man. I tried very hard not to tell him that maybe this girl didn’t want to date the sort of boy who has refined flexing in mirrors to an art form.

There’s no real point to this story, except that I have strange friends.

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One comment

  1. This shit is hilarious.



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