Recently, my parents invested in a new grill for our backyard. I didn’t think much about it; it was just another purchase. That is, until I started noticing signs.
My parents skipped my last six ballroom dance competitions to stand around admiring the grill with Randy from next door, because apparently, they're more proud of getting a nice char on the chicken than their daughter not misstepping the waltz.
I thought I could find it in myself to look past it. Oh, how comically wrong I was. A few days later, I made my parents a refined blown-glass sculpture of the great Roman historian Tacitus. My dad glanced at my work, said, “That’s great, buddy,” and headed outside to char-broil some turkey sausage.
That was when I realized that my parents love their new backyard barbecue more than me. My achievements in glassblowing and Baroque dance can’t possibly compete with a sizzling piece of grass-fed beef. I am an only child—and yet, the grill is their favorite member of the family.
The jealousy is simply too much to bear. One night, I snuck outside, armed with a hammer. Before I could unleash a fatal blow on that greasy grill, my father raced outside and threw himself in front of the it, ready to sacrifice his life to protect it.
“Dammit, Dad,” I yelled. “How come you’ll leap in front of a grill to save it but sat back and laughed when I got hit in the face with a softball at my intramural game? Is it something I did? Why don’t you love me?” I sobbed. My father looked at me quizzically and ran to the grill to check for scratches.
And this is where I am now—outshone and outperformed at every turn by a Weber 66004001 Genesis II LX S-340 Natural Gas Grill. I’m not worried though. How long can this possibly last before they realize they’ve been neglecting their beloved child for an inanimate object and come crawling back to apologi–Oh my fucking God my mother just walked in with a Roomba.
In Other News
"Modality modality modality modality modality modality modality modality modality modality..."
"Soon, sweetheart," cooed the 54-year-old professor's mother . "It'll come sooner if you fall asleep."
"I personally find it to be a very spiritual journey, as I pass the same Olive Tree Deli and Columbia Barber shop my forefathers passed years ago."
“This is Kimiko, my waifu,” said the Dean, switching tabs to a hi-res image of a scantily clad, huge-eyed vixen with gravity-defying breasts.
"Coach kept telling us, ‘Guys, you’re a damn talented group, and I know you can win games. You gotta stay focused on winning! Because if you keep losing, you’re gonna know the sting inside my spanking tent.’"
"Something about those cute little faces just gets me going about how much better public torture would work out than our current broken justice system when considering the utilitarian calculus."
“It’s just so unhealthy,” said Jablonsky, whose grandfather trekked across Europe with just two potatoes in his battered rucksack to catch a passage to America. “Too much saturated fat. And, oh God, the salt.”
"In an increasingly interconnected world, we at the Office of Global Programs are hoping that a trip up to Union Theological Seminary or down into Lehman can be reframed as its own rich adventure!"
"I thought it was frankly irresponsible that the tour guide failed to mention even one location in which my son could find himself bucking the wild white pony at 3:15pm on a Wednesday afternoon."
"His previous experience transporting souls across the river Styx to the world of the dead was eye-opening; he is just impeccably qualified to take the reins of our institution’s cherished nursing home.”