There are people out there, right this minute, breaking up with their boyfriends/girlfriends and significant others.
And the reasons they’re giving are, well how should I put this…insane.
I once knew a girl who sat down with me and told me about the two times she broke up with guys who she was digging-on. There was the time she was desperately in love with a guy with whom she’d been hanging out with for five months. One day, they decided to go to Magic Mountain (a Los Angeles based Six Flags Amusement Park). A few hours into their visit, they approached a roller coaster. Well, he wanted to ride it but she didn’t. And so, she decided she’d watch him from the sidelines as he rode the metal monster.
If you don’t want me to ruin the rest of the season of ABC’s hit show LOST for you, please turn away now. Begone! Do not lay thous eyes upon herest wordest.
For those who don’t care, please. Continue.
If you’ve watched Lost from the beginning, you are well aware of the concept. A plane of passengers crashes down on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere and its inhabitants are trapped without any real opportunity for rescue. The band of ragtag frequent fliers include a doctor, a father and his son, a brother and his step-sister (with whom he’s slept with), a rebellious criminal, an overweight fat guy, a washed-up UK rock star has-been, a hot chick with a dark past, an Asian couple who doesn’t speak English except for the wife who really does but hasn’t told her husband she can speak it, a pregnant woman (who is no longer pregnant), Tom Cruise’s cousin William Mapother, and many many insignificant others.
If you have ever heard of Saturday Night Live then you have heard of its Creator and Executive Producer (i.e. “God), Lorne Michaels.
WFME was fortunate enough to get a few moments to talk to the uber-comedy deity after he was accidentally injected with some kind of black market truth serum. You know, the kind you’ve seen on such hit television shows as Alias and The Greatest American Hero. Here’s what Mr. Michaels had to say:
Me: It’s an honor and a pleasure, Mr. Michaels.
Lorne Michaels: Pfffffbbbbbbbbt.
(Lorne Michaels rubs his fingers over what appear to be swollen lips while he makes a sound most similar to my 7 month old nephew for some time.)
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
I’ve put a lot of thought into what I’m about to tell you and I know that you know when I say I’ve put a lot of thought into something you know damn well I have indeed probably put way too much thought time into it. But on this particular fooling situation, I have spent the necessary time coming to a very serious, very important conclusion.
There’s a lot of things I can’t do.
I can’t help you pick out what will someday be a valuable Pez candy character. I can’t encourage you to continue to dump your money into that Bea Arthur Fan Club.
I can’t help you knit a life-size dog, eat six eggs all at once, or even write a song about your favorite finger — the pinky.
But there is one thing I am extremely qualified for. Something I have trained for throughout my entire existence. Something that will change your life forever. I can be your own personal fruit picker.