Escaping the Reality

One of them stays behind to pay the bill and the other three proceed to the first hole. While golfing, the three fathers start bragging about their sons.

The first father says, “I am very proud of my son Arthur; he is my pride and joy. He started working at a very successful company at the bottom of the barrel and now he is at the top!  He became so rich that he gave his best friend a top of the line Mercedes Benz for his birthday.”

The second fathers says, “My son Ivan is also my pride and joy, I am very proud of him. He went to flight school to become a pilot and managed to become a partner in the company where he now owns the majority of the assets. He became so rich that he gave his best friend a brand new jet for his birthday.”

The third father says, “Well, well, well - congratulations! My son, Ludwig, is also my pride and joy and is also very rich. He became an engineer. He started his own construction company and became very successful and a multimillionaire. He built a mansion especially for his best friend.”

Then the fourth father catches up and they ask him how his son is doing.

The fourth father replies, “Oh, my son Alfred is gay and he makes a living dancing as a stripper at a nightclub.”

The three friends shake their heads and say, “What a shame, you must be so unhappy! How tragic.”

had ch

they had che

if i ever see any of you in public, the code is “i like your shoelaces”

Me watching the gay people in my phone get psychic damage from my silly little uquiz

We were completely enraptured by those candles and the way the president’s face would start melting hideously if we let them burn long enough. Without any kind of deliberation among ourselves we turned it into a class-wide contest—it was obvious to everyone that the point of the Yellow Coins charity campaign was to win many little Chiracs and melt them to make the face of our president as freakishly deformed as possible. We exchanged them for pogs and marbles. We had recently learnt about the Plague in history class, with great relish, hence one lucky girl who managed to obtain a particularly monstrous half-melted face with a big wax bubble reminiscent of a bubo sold it way above the going rate, for 12 galaxy marbles—a fortune. (I was among the losers of this auction, and commented in my diary, with deep regret, “It’s just what it would look like if the President had the bubonic plague!”) Every day after school we went round town begging passersby for coins with something akin to mania in order to get more Chiracs to burn into ever ghastlier shapes. An old lady we ambushed in front of the church praised us warmly for our charitable spirit.

Eventually our teacher ran out of candles and this odd chapter of my childhood ended as abruptly as it had started. Our class was congratulated in front of the whole school for being by far the most ardently devoted to the cause (we got ~15kg of coins.) I wonder if the principal asked our teacher what her secret was to make us collect a truly astonishing amount of coins compared to the other classes, and how he reacted when she replied that she motivated us with busts of the President. One teacher gave a Carambar for a full box of coins, another believed that helping sick children should be incentive enough, but our teacher, an expert in child psychology, was alone in her conviction that the best way to go about this was to hand out human wax effigies for her students to burn.

that way we know we’re from tumblr without revealing anything

I’m just going to say this to strangers until i find a tumblr person

must keep reblogering!! Im going to be so suspicious if any one tells me this now!

Remember the answer is: I stole them from the president.