"Nothing ever happens to me," says the whiny little baby. "I sure wish I could be involved in something intriguing and momentous replete with brief erotic interludes preceding moments of sheer terror."
Did someone say terror? Well you're in luck. Because today's Sit In Abject Terror Day!
That's right, couch potatoes. For all you folks who gave up long ago on coming upon some small jostle of excitement to gently disturb your otherwise flat, static lives, today's the day to go fucking batshit with fear! And I'm not talking about that pussy anxiety crap you sob to your couples counselor about until he prescribes you a vial of anti-sissy medication. I'm talking barricade yourself in a closet because they're coming. I'm talking smother your pets now because at least by your hand they'll die a humane death. I'm talking motherfuckers in capes!
"But-- But-- But--," says the little baby girly-girl, "But how can I sit in abject terror if I can't think of any reason why anyone would even know I'm alive let alone want me dead?"
Let's just say you're a pawn in a game you didn't know was being played, and no one can make the next move until you're eliminated. Or fuck that, let's just say they're coming. Duck motherfucker.
So pull that afghan up just below your bugged-out eyes and tremble your clenched fists as you watch the door knob jiggle with increasing violence because today's Sit In Abject Terror Day!
