So I started off my day right this morning by squirting some orange juice into my eye at breakfast with two nerds on a typically boring Saturday afternoon. Squinting, I attempted to peel the thing again but instead it flung itself out of my hands and all over my chest and lap. My pathetic friends and I knew that this was going to be another chapter in somewhat of a series of unbelievable days.
It all started a few days ago on the soccer field. Our nerdy team had just finished stretching/talking shit to each other (a part of the normal routine), and tensions were on a high. Then, all of a sudden, the showdown began. Two of usual suspects squared up and started to have at it: talking shit to each other about the girl that somehow has become the centerpiece of our soccer team's interesting and confusing relationship. The brief exchange escalated and the pack of innocent bystanders surrounding the two began to grunt and squeal with pleasure: everyone loves a good insult battle. This quintessentially nerdy incident had me grinning and laughing, and I happily jogged over to kick a nearby ball. I stuck my leg out to receive the ball rolling 2 mph at me, and I immediately lost my balance and face-planted on the turf. My dumb smile was literally wiped off my face by the rough ground, and the nerds in the background continued to giggle and shriek with glee.
Later that day the whole crew went to the local mall to hang out with some freshman girls. We arrived at Victoria's Secret only to get kicked out within minutes, but not before something extraordinary happened. A flock of moms were able to spot six sweaty, smelly nerds decked out in soccer gear surrounding their innocent young daughters, who happened to be buying lacy bras and underwear. Things only got worse when the girls began to flee from the scene, and as we chased them, we ran into our head of school out on a pleasant shopping afternoon, which was probably soiled a little after the sight of our bitch-asses. Later we discovered that the whole event had been captured by cameras and posted on Instagram for every nerd in the greater San Diego area to see.
The next day we were driving home from a soccer game and got cut off by some nerd in a truck. Furious, I honked my horn and flashed my brights in this guy's mirror, and then zipped in front of the dude. We had thought the incident was over, but after a few turns I looked back in my mirror and saw a big truck flashing its brights at me and steadily approaching. This really got us going, and being the nerds we were (especially being jacked up on testosterone), we rolled down the windows and flipped them off, screeching profanities and uttering primal grunts and animal noises. However, to our dismay, the truck pulled up next to us at a red light and it was a nice suburban family that was not the one that had cut us off. The three pathetic nerds tried to hide our embarrassment by attempting to drown ourselves in the music that was already blaring through the speakers.
Later the same day the whole squad of nerds went to the local ColdStone Creamery for a late night snack. Here another of these unbelievable occurrences yet again took place. It started off when my friend and I were juggling the soccer ball in the parking lot and a random mini-cooper appeared and zipped right into the parking space we were juggling in. We practically dove out of the way as the oblivious bitch drove right over our ball. Naturally, that sheepish expression settled on my face again as my friend crawled under the car to retrieve our precious belonging. Shortly after that, another car full of 6 or 7 girls bouncing to the beat of a pop song rolled on up, and as they spilled out I creepily muttered "Hey girls", only to be greeted with several looks of disapproval. They then piled into the ColdStone and we resumed our street juggling. Soon enough they all poured out of the shop and went back to their car, but before they drove off they started singing to us. This caught the attention of two of the members of our pack, and the curious nerds shuffled their way over, as they recognized this was their best chance to find a mate. The two primitive nerds began their mating calls and dances, only for one of them to be struck in the chest by a flying cup of ice cream hurled from across the car. Unfazed, he brushed off the gooey stains and they resumed their wooing process, and after a few more minutes the females drove off, taunting them with empty promises of Facebook and Twitter contacts. The two bold yet defeated outcasts slithered their way back to the main group and joined in on the developing chorus of meows.
To top off this unreal streak of the past couple days, I will end on the note we ended on the night before last. It was my friend and I sitting on our pathetic asses in a parking lot of a beach, gazing out at the sunset. The mood was set with music and everything, and we were just left there to marinate in our own thoughts. Occasionally, my friend was kind enough to turn down the music for a second so I could hear him squeak out a bubbly fart into my car seat, turning the volume back up as soon as the little puff of stink had ceased to make noise. So there we were, two unbelievably pathetic nerds, absorbing the beautiful sunset as well as some unidentifiable stench. Now that's what I call an unreal end to an unreal day.
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