Sometimes when I read the forwards you guys send me, I’m at a loss for words, and not in a good way. Having used the terms “moronic,” “idiotic,” and “horrifically fucking ridiculous” in my PAY IT FORWARD entries more times than I can count, sometimes I feel the need to turn to visuals when expressing my reactions. And so I give you a photo I snapped with my cell phone mere moments after reading the last sentence of today’s featured forward:
This is also the face I make whenever I try to watch “How I Met Your Mother” after being told for the 6,235,620th time that it’s “so funny” and “you’ll love it.”
(It isn’t and I don’t.)
Forwards like these make me irritable and uncomfortable, because they operate under the guise of being heartwarming but are really just condescending. The whole story (which is entirely fictional, by the by) is nothing but a giant exercise in pity, as Cedar observed when she submitted this steaming pile to me. In keeping with my self-photo theme, I decided to consult my giant, motion-activited Freddie Mercury figurine for his take on the forward. Freddie, this forward makes me feel all icky. What do you think?
Yeah? Really? Oh, that makes me feel better. You’re so wise, Freddie. You look awesome in that jumpsuit, by the way. You sure you’re not into chicks? I mean, it’s cool if you’re not, I’m just saying I’m open and…
…mmm…your hair smells good. Wanna sing a duet? I’ll take the low parts.
Look at us rocking the tiny mic like a vandal! Oh, Freddie, you always know how to make a girl feel better.
As much as I’d like to continue with my photo essay of a 33-year-old woman’s inappropriate relationship with a statuette from Sky Mall, I suppose it’s time to tackle the forward. Sigh.
Subject: Fwd: THE FOLDED NAPKIN
When I read the subject line, I was absolutely ABUZZ with excitement over what this shit could possibly mean. Was it a folded napkin that someone threw through a car window as a sign from God? Was it a folded napkin passed back and forth between mother and daughter until one of them died? Was it a folded napkin that some dude slept with while his wife died of Secret Cancer? Oh, the possibilities!
I want to include some of the messages from previous forwarders of this email that I had to scroll through to get to the story, because it’s pretty priceless. In the way that things that make me feel a bit like gagging are priceless.
Hello, flashback to that really bad date I had my sophomore year of college. I’d like to forget you again soon.
The word “precious” is never, ever a harbinger for anything good. Just ask Precious.
I AM NOT AN ANIM…OK, maybe I am.
Gross.
It would be a real bummer if a mentally handicapped busboy offended the delicate sensibilities of a trucker who just came off a long shift of dozing at the wheel and jerking off across five state lines.
Gosh, don’t you just hate it when your Downs Syndrome makes you look dumpy? Class act, forward.
Just replace “meatloaf platter” with “head” and “pies are” with “meth is.”
First: truck stop germs are real and in effect, motherfuckers. Just ask the makers of Valtrex.
Second: the college students, yuppies, and businessmen are the ones you think will not accept Stevie? Not the truckers who have fucking “No Fat Chicks” mudflaps? OK, then.
Third: college students are commuting via four-wheelers now? You do know what a four-wheeler is, right?
It’s super rad, but there’s no room for my laundry! Bogus!
Stubby little finger? Truck stop mascot? ENTER UNCOMFORTABLE FEELINGS.
A mascot? Really? Way to put a mentally handicapped person just trying to do his damn job on the same level as the fucking Phillie Phanatic.
Make that the Phucking Phillie Phanatic.
He was “like” a 21-year-old kid? Since the forward doesn’t bother telling us his actual age, I guess we have to assume he’s older? Younger? I don’t fucking know.
Hold on tight, Internet. Shit’s about to get sappy and cancer-y up in here.
Also, they’d had no running water at their house ever since
a train carrying grandmas, puppies and lambs derailed and crashed into a tank of hydrochloric acid, polluting the water supply.
HA! How much do I love this? “He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart.” Yeah, a new valve or something. I don’t know, I wasn’t listening. Where the fuck is that slow kid? These tables need bussed.
Three things: It’s WAR WHOOP, “Marvin Ringers” sounds like something you’d get after eating the aforementioned meatloaf platter, and I hate the word “shimmy” with all of my heart.
I’d love to hear that joke. I’m sure it’s just sublime.
Oh, gurrrrl, you know that wasn’t the first time Frannie walked into the office looking funny & carrying soiled napkins.
I don’t know if it’s just me, but I have to keep actively reminding myself that we’re not talking about Stevie Nicks.
The description of Frannie’s wet-ass beady eyes is freaking me out.
You know what might be a nice celebration of his first day back? GIVING HIM SOME FUCKING HEALTH INSURANCE.
Well, thank goodness the heart surgery “or something” made him thinner & took care of that unfortunate “dumpy” problem he used to have.
And just as one should never follow a hippie to a second location, one should never follow the author of a forward to the rear of anything.
WHAT?! TWENTY FUCKING DOLLARS?! There was $160 up there that fucking Lurleen or whatever her name is found!
Oh.
I guess this is where I’m supposed to cry? Because I will cry at everything, but this shit only makes me feel ALL FUCKING WEIRD for these grandstanding truck stop motherfuckers who never existed in the first place.
Also: $10,000? Would not cover two fucking days in the hospital, let alone any expenses associated with heart surgery “or something.” I SHIT ON YOUR CHARITY, SIR.
I cannot read this without immediately channeling a Waylon Jennings Dukes of Hazzard voiceover: “Well, ’round about that time those Duke boys were in a heap of trouble…”
(I just watched the Dukes of Hazzard opening credits and was overtaken by nostalgia. And the urge to totally bone Young John Schneider. Although I specifically remember having a crush on Tom Wopat when the show was on the air. Ah, the misguided yearnings of youth!)
Well, this says it all, doesn’t it? While everyone stood around fucking congratulating each other for forking out a one-time $20 donation to a disabled person, Stevie was ignoring the awkward bullshit and doing his damn job.
And what need, pray tell, is that? The need to cram stupid bullshit into other people’s inboxes? Because my coworkers have that covered, thanks.
If you did not shed a tear, let me hug you, because you are my kind of person.
NO. NOT A GOOD ONE.
A GOOD ONE. Even with my mom’s 1983 hairstyle.
Whoa. I have no words.
OK, I have a few.
1) WTF? I think I should cry at the offensive descriptions of the person with special needs. Actually, I do want to cry at the ending…because the writer totally wasted my time. And because someone should tell Stevie he doesn’t need to clean that shit up.
2) Think of all the flowy black skirts Stevie Nicks could buy with $10,000!
3) Thank you for also thinking that How I Met Your Mother is not funny. I’ve had the same experience: Stop telling me to watch a show that sucks!
4) And you quoted a hilarious show: 30 Rock! Huzzah!
Or, OR: Stevie Nicks could buy ONE $10,000 flowy black shirt! INDULGENT!
Or she could buy some sort of device that would bring her voice back up to its original octaves. That has to cost around $10,000.
Well, I did cry. But only because I was laughing so hard.
That is acceptable.
It does not escape my notice that the salt-of-the-earth them’s-good-folks truckers all gave money to their favorite mascot, while them damn smartass uppity four-wheeler-drivin’ college kids and the silverware-polishing yuppies and the business men did NOTHING! Just like in real life: the ones who really care about people and try to do right by folks are the honest, hard-working, Republican-voitng blue-collar types, while the pointy-headed intellectuals and white collar people just sit and turn up their noses. All they want to do is ride around on their damn four-wheelers and raise your taxes!
What I left out was the paragraph about how the truckers found out later that Stevie was gay, and they took all the money back.
Aaahh, I love these so much. I’m a big lurker and non-commenter because once I’m done with one of your pay-it-forwards, I feel like everything has been said and I’m at a loss.
It really looks like you took those first photos in a cubicle at work. Which is awesome in a “takin’ down the man” kind of way.
Yay for de-lurking!
Cubicle? Work? I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT MA’AM.
There are just so MANY things wrong with this. The “or something” was my favorite part, too. Why bother with details, right?
Ah, the Dukes of Hazzard. Talk about inappropriateness . . . that show hit every non-P.C. base there is.
Those Duke boys sure were hot, though.
Dan, you took the words right out of my mouth. I love how wonderful it is that the blue-collars love to give $20 to the retard with the bad valve (or something), but GOD FUCKING FORBID we have national health care.
Fuck. Fuck indeed.
Yes and yes.
I like how they sat on that money for THREE MONTHS while Stevie and his mom were starving at home. Nice.
HAHA! Yes. Didn’t notice that, but yeah, WAY TO FUCKING GO.
fucking Republicans.
Seriously, give the kid some god damned health insurance and keep your self-congratulatory bullshit to yourself truckers (or whoever).
On a better note, we keep that episode of 30 Rock permanently on our TiVo because the therapy scene makes me laugh every time. Watched it about 100 times, doesn’t matter. Every time Alec Baldwin gets to the line about being paid a nickle to bust up a shifferobe (sp?) I lose it all over again.
Oh god. Give me a minute. Oh my god. You are totally going to need a book deal for these things. Call it “Shit the Internet Forwards” or something. OR SOMETHING.
Also, a bunch of people I RESPECT and ADMIRE and TRUST love How I Met Your Mother, and I love NPH, but I have tried and Tried and TRIED with that show and I… you know?
Hoping to have a dedicated PAY IT FORWARD site soon!
Oh, and businessmen on expense accounts, in my experience, typically don’t stop at truck stops. But they do tend to give their employees health care, so…
Oh, and to anyone who cries at this post: If you need to pass some eye water, I’d be happy to go out and get you some weakness tissues.
So…so…so many things:
I also can not stand “How I Met Your Mother.” Are they looking forward? Are they talking about what already happened? Why are your jokes not funny?
Who is expensing manky food from a truck stop?
“…a new valve or something?”…oh my. Iris’ new patch or something cost a shit ton of money. Just ask Blue Care Network. They’ll tell you $10,000 won’t pay for jack.
Ahhh…the Dukes of Hazzard. I love me some good ol’ boys. Except of they’re hillbillies. Or rascist. Okay, mainly just boys with AWESOME hair a la John Schneider.
O.k., I had to stop reading and write this:
I LOVE your glasses.
That stupid How I met your Mother is the stupidest ass shitty show in the history of the universe. Truly. I keep trying to watch and enjoy it, but it’s futile because it’s just awful.
HA! My glasses are Old People Reading Glasses from fucking WalMart. They can be yours for $5.99!
I, too, am missing the HIMYM-liking gene, but Suniverse, I have to challenge your belief that it’s the stupidest ass shitty show in the history of the universe because that would suggest that Two and a Half Men is somehow above that title, and I just don’t know that I can agree to that!
I love every single thing about this post. Especially the photo essay with Freddie Mercury. And, seriously, was there anyone (except really, really committed-to-lesbianity lesbians) who didn’t want to bone John Schneider?
Well, now I feel vindicated in my decision to ignore everyone telling me to give it a chance, that I’ll looooooooooove HIMYM. Because you and I clearly have the same sense of humor.
I’ve actually had this forward show up in my inbox, compliments of my aunt. And I must say, it was a lot more amusing this time around!
I am so heartened by all you people who also don’t get How I Met Your Mother.
Hey, I get it. I get that it SUCKS.
Ahh, JT, again you did not disappoint. I think you actually managed to raise the bar. I remember gettting your tweet about this forward but I had already blocked out that wet wood comment and I wondered what sort of forward you were assessing. I just now got to reading it and hot damn! You always cleanse me of that ick factor, even though you’re talking in depth about the ick factor of these mofos.
I LOVE your cube pics. A fucking Freddie Mercury doll? I want to hear this duet!
Also, I think those spider eyes really embody the description in the text. AND, I too was wondering about that lack of HEALTH CARE (holla!).
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John Schneider is the background on my phone. Seriously. So love your blog!