When you know you're screwed #1: "The Big Night"

Know when you're really screwed? It's when you refer to Prom as 'the big night'. Like, come on! The big night? Is that how low your expectations from life really are? What's so special about it? The drugs? The booze? The unprotected sex? It sure as hell ain't your cousin's band or the quality time  you spend with your high-school sweetheart. Giving Prom night such immense importance by calling it the big night is as ludicrous and stupid as calling that sweetheart of yours hot. Take it from someone who knows bro, she ain't hot. Truth be told, I'd do a bottle-opener before I even touch her. I'll probably get less STDs that way. Oh, and in case I haven't mentioned or you've been too busy having 'fun' at that prom of yours to notice, but your girl friend isn't really the celibacy type.

Bitch, please.Fire Hydrants that get peed on by Paris Hilton's Chihuahua have more sex appeal than you.

Although, if you're plagued by any of the social inconveniences that I have to endure, you probably don't have a Prom night, or anything like it. But instead, you have a Farewell - the cheap substitute for a Prom wherever arranged copulation is practiced and drugs, booze, unprotected sex or anything remotely fun is unavailable.

So, what exactly is a farewell? It's fucking boring and is probably the main reason why my fellow countrymen tend to be so socially awkward and gawky when faced with the opposite sex. Basically, created by the bastard son of Satan himself to pretty much piss his dad off, a farewell promises you a new view at life, one you obtain if you're able to survive the morbidly mundane rituals of this wretched 'social' event. This view only encompasses you to pretty much stay single and scarred from horrible experience till the time you get married. Another one of Satan's bastard son's and your parent's dastardly schemes to stop you from experiencing a phenomenon known such as 'fun'.

Skipping in on all the details that are just depressing and getting to the one that pretty much traumatizes everyone, except for the foreign exchange kid from Europe of course (He's used to watching women poop, you think this would bother him? ), let us get to what they like to call entertainment. In a perfect world, calling what we have to adhere to 'entertainment' would be enough to get you a death penalty if not life imprisonment at the very least. Sadly such a world does not exist.

Imagine: A fat kid in his mid-teens dancing to a song that involves him 'shaking it' a lot! And by it we aren't talking about his ass, we of course are talking about what every obese kid of such stature and physique is faced with: Man-titties. Yes, you heard us right: Boobs on a man. Now, unlike that pedophile uncle of yours, we don't really keep pictures of an obese endowed young men saved on our hard-drive or any other form of storage just to get the record straight. So sadly, you'll just have to jerk off to this badly drawn picture on Microsoft Paint.


(FACT: The principal who approved of this 'dance' actually denied a band the same time slot. Our principal and your uncle should get together for a drink. I'm sure they have some things in common.)

Clearly, the Principal liked something to hold on to. 

Seeing how the kid was bald, I'm not exactly talking about hair here.