You know the saying "A Picture is worth a thousand words"? Well, I'm going to prove that statement right now, but with a twist. I'm going to write 1,007 words about one picture. Here goes nothing (this doesn't count as the 1007 words, by the way)
This is a picture of me. I’m downtown in Greensboro near the park. It’s sometime in the winter or late fall. I’m clicking my heels. I seem to be very happy. I’m wearing a hat I bought from the mall during Black Friday. It’s actually a female hat, but who cares? “Nobody will notice” I thought when I bought it. I’m glad I wore that hat in this picture because it makes look cooler. It’s also very comfortable. I look awesome.
My sister took this picture. I had no idea she was taking a picture of me at the time. I look like I can jump pretty high in this picture, but really I can’t. I like to click my heels randomly. It’s actually an acquired skill to be able to click your heels in the air, believe it or not. I’ve been able to do it all my life, as far as I know. People usually do it when they’re feeling happy. Or gay. Or when they’re watching Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I can’t remember why I clicked my heels. Probably because I was at the park downtown with my family. Or because my hat made me feel like an elf. There were people walking on the sidewalk at the time. I could feel the strangers staring as I performed this graceful motion of happiness. Who’s the man now?! That would be me at this moment.
The shoes I’m wearing in this picture are probably my favorite pair of shoes I’ve ever owned. I’m wearing them now as we speak. They’re pretty fucked up now though. They have paint smeared all over them and have tears and holes and shit. They look pretty artistic, actually. I wear them almost every day with pride, despite how messed up they are. They match a lot of the clothes I wear, which is always convenient. Say you were to spend the night somewhere. It would suck to pack clothes that require certain shoes to go with them. Packing shoes is really inconvenient and can take up a lot of room. But if you have shoes that go with just about everything, then you are good to go.
If you look closely, you can see Christmas decorations on that pole near my head, so this must be sometime in December. I love winter. It lets me wear hoodies, my favorite article of clothing. It’s also my favorite because if it’s too cold, you can just put more clothes on and get warm. But during the summer when it’s too hot, you’re just shit out of luck unless you want to risk stripping down to your birthday suit. There’s also snow during winter, even though it didn’t snow at all during that particular winter. It’s funny. During the winter time, you see people complain about the cold and want it to be hot again. But in the summer time, the same people do the same thing, only backwards. They should seriously consider moving to a more moderately temperate location. Like San Diego or something.
Not really a huge fan of Christmas anymore. I can honestly do without the gifts, which is something I thought I would never say as a child. Unless it’s money, of course. Money is always the best gift because it allows you to spend it on whatever it is you may want. You could save it for later in case of emergency. Or you could be like me and don’t like telling people what it is you want because you don’t want them to judge you so you take the money and buy it yourself and save the embarrassment.
If you look to the right, you can see a little bit of my dad. He seems to be looking up at a tall building. I look a lot like my dad, people say. I have his huge ears, his Italian nose, and his personality. What’s that bald spot on his head? I’ve always wondered if he’d gotten shot there and miraculously survived thanks to state-of-the-art surgery or something. Or maybe he’s balding on the side of his head instead of the top of his head like some freak of nature.
If you look closely, you can see my shadow. My stepmom thought my shadow was awesome. I disagree with her on that. I say I’m the center of awesomeness in this picture. But I give my shadow a close 2nd. I kind of feel like Peter Pan now that I see my shadow. You know how his shadow had a mind of its own and would run around, acting a fool. That is what my shadow is doing at the moment, only my shadow is more disciplined than Peter Pan’s and won’t run off. Suck it, Peter, I’m better than you.
I wonder what settings that clicking your heels would be cool and not-so-cool.
At a concert = cool.
At a funeral = not-so-cool.
When some douche gets thrown out of a bar for being a jack-ass = cool.
When you are that douche = not-so-cool.
For a picture with your friend = cool.
For a picture with your friend who's in a wheel-chair = not-so-cool.
I also wonder if anyone’s ever been seriously hurt while attempting to click their heels. Like say someone got an A on their exam. As they attempt to jump to perform the universal dance of joy, they slip on a banana peel conveniently placed. Their momentum causes them to cut a half-backflip, landing on their head. The people around him gaze in amazement, trying to figure out if what they just witnessed was on purpose or not. As the guy regains consciousness, he finds himself in an emergency room. No one’s around. It’s dark. Turns out, he went into a coma and now he’s in the middle of a zombie apocalypse and he must find a way to his family and try to survive. And there you have it. The true beginning of the hit show The Walking Dead.
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