Saturday, September 10, 2005

Communing the spirit of guys I sometimes meet

Hey, have I told you how important I am? I'm pretty fucking great. I've been a lot of places. OK, you've actually been to the same places, but my going there was far more enriching.

Like, one time I went to Ireland and they fucking loved me, man. Loved me. Nothing makes Irish people happier than to meet me. My one-week trip to Ireland in college has made me a fucking expert on all things Irish. This knowledge makes me semi-divine.

You're pretty lucky to be talking to me right now. I can reference authors you haven't heard of. I refer to them by last name only, so you'll know that they're important. I have made it my responsibility to correct you on any minor and irrelevant factual errors that you might make in the process of making a point. For example, you just pronounced Sartre's name incorrectly.

Your jokes aren't funny -- primarily because I didn't think of them.


Huw said...

God, reminds me of some of the smug cod-intellectuals I encountered when I subjected myself to studying at The LSE (said in a non-name dropping fashion. Honest). Spot on.

Astrid said...

Pooh, that's quite a statement, I promise to bow for you every time I come here and on what day of the year do we celebrate the existence of Chris Cope the Great or should we leave food and presents at his altar every day?

Cheekysquirrel said...

Well as the great author King once wrote "Creepy Carrie, Creepy Carrie".

Profound man!