Brad Pike

That’s what iPad owners always say. They get up in your face, wave the iPad around, and tell you to kill yourself — not that you’re doing that; you’re a nice person who happens to own an iPad — and it’s like, okay, I get it, you have an iPad.

As children shift their interest from toys to iPads and videogames, the toy industry must respond with an equivalently dramatic advancement, one that can engage children aggressively but not violently. Never violently. Never.

No, wait, just listen! There’s a crawl space, you see, with wires, pipes, insulation, and I — being a man of small proportions — managed to nestle my modest frame inside like a tiny unemployed baby in a womb full of roaches and mouse skeletons.

You see, I have cable television, which means I have The Learning Channel, the History Channel, The Travel Channel, and The Discovery Channel. These educational networks dispense valuable wisdom to me.

My first job was as a cashier at one of the many world renowned Albertsons premium grocery stores…

You’re my favorite nephew, but I would like to set you on fire, tear off bits of your still burning flesh, and gnash them up in my teeth like hot jerky. Crucify you, I’d like to crucify you. Drink the blood from your — Am I speaking aloud right now?

I did not understand how mail worked because I hadn’t sent a letter since the one I wrote to The Goosebumps Fan Club Newsletter in elementary school. I applied to college online; I paid rent and utility bills online; I sent ecards, evites, and emails, but never actual physical mail.

Did you see all my new tweets? Seems like the quality of my tweets rises in direct correlation with the amount of free time I have. Like my tweets are so amazing at this point, I think I should publish them as a book of tweets called Brad’s Hilarious Tweets.

Recently, I asked a friend what the consensus about me was at that time, and she said, “We all seriously thought one day you might show up to school with a gun.” So let’s linger on that troubling revelation for a moment.

I’ve tried smoking a couple times, but it never clicked with me like other people. Veteran smokers would watch me inhale and say, “It’s not a breathalyzer test. Don’t suck on it like a helium balloon. You don’t need to puff out your cheeks like a chipmunk. Have you ever seen someone smoke? Like on TV?”

Listen, I want you to truly appreciate my sustained effort to pretend to be a reasonable human being. I’ve gone days without texting you, multiple days without texting you, three whole days without texting you. The cumulative willpower illustrated by this should leave your mind utterly boggled, exceedingly boggled.

Occasionally, she leans in to try and kiss me, but I recoil, saying, “No! Does not want!”