Late-Stage Capitalism Has Nothing to Do With This Article

I’m doing my best to promote my friends, but it’s more difficult than people think.

I was drinking my tomato juice and making up some weird animals like the platypus when this guy came out of nowhere covered in blood and socks and looked at my schlong.

I was naked, so it gave him direct access, but still, he could have made the effort and looked me in the eyes instead. Since he was there, I had to stop making my cool new pets and tell him some life advice sounding horseshit.

“Why can’t people just sit down, and write?”

What happens next is the story of this article.

I gave him a computer screen, a keyboard, and a nice piece of furniture I had found at a discount in Ikea the week before.

(If you want a discount, send me an email, and I’ll get one for you.)

I told him, “now, you sit and write, Gunner.”

“But I’d like to wash the blood and maybe put the socks on my feet instead of having them glued to my nose,” he replied, ungrateful as all these unsuccessful writers always are.

“Listen, Gunner. At the moment, you aren’t much more than a metal dump can when it comes to the writing hall of fame, so you do what I say, adagio.”

I later learned that adagio is Italian for slowly, and presto is the word for quickly. But Garret didn’t speak any Italian, so it wasn’t a problem. Anyway, he was still looking at my schlong and not listening.

Thanks to many years of yogasutra training and a course I recently bought on Udemy, I used my schlong to communicate my instructions. A few seconds later, Gunner was sitting at his Ikea desk; and typing on the keyboard like a madman. (Click on this link if you want to see what it looks like.)

I know you’ve read everywhere that writing “click on this link” is a bad copywriting habit, and it might be true if you’re a professional, but let’s not kid ourselves. This article isn’t published in Marker or Index; it’s in “Doctor Funny,” so don’t pretend you’re above this kind of clickbaity stuff like the link above, which I’m going to use again here, just in case you want to CLICK ON IT one more time.

Anyway.

As Gunner was sitting and typing, I could come back to building some more of my favorite pets that look like platypus but have the nose of my grandma instead of the beak of a duck. (It’s a pretty cool thing to do, you should try.)

That’s when something incredible happened. I had never seen this before in my life writing articles like this for funny publications like “Doctor Funny.”

But first, let’s have a commercial break. Please sing the following lyrics according to your favorite tune.

If you don’t know what to buy for her birthday If you don’t want to look like you ate pineapple for breakfast, Then there’s only one thing you can dooooooo And here’s the how tooooooo

One of the socks jumped off Gunner’s blood-covered nose and walked my way.

Gunner didn’t notice or care; he just kept on typing. But I did, and my schlong cared. We both watched with our eyes (two for me, one for my schlong) wide open.

The sock looked like a powerful sock. Not one of these socks that get lost in the dryers and never come back. More like one of these socks that’s always in your drawer having some sexy times with your undies, no matter how many times you throw it in the garbage.

This sock had a mission.

When the sock started running on its invisible tiny legs, Gunner stopped typing. The sock ran towards me and my schlong faster than any socks I had ever seen back in my days of working at the laundry on 5th.

Gunner knew what was going to happen. He started crying.

The sock jumped and put itself on my schlong, covering it entirely. Gunner became enraged, broke the keyboard on his right knee, and threw the computer screen on the floor. He even said I should have asked for a bigger discount because the Ikea desk wasn’t comfortable at all. After that, he just went to sit in a corner and has been sulking for two days now.

That’s why I wrote this article.

If you could leave a comment on one of Gunner’s articles, I think it could help him regain composure, and maybe he’ll go back to his home and take his bloody and stinky socks with him.

My schlong would be grateful for your help.

This article is my answer to Gunner Barrett’ piece of writing published in the same publication not so long ago. I felt it was necessary to give my side of the events.

Smillew is a Medium writer who writes mainly about his schlong, his Medium newsletter, and his Medium referral link. No need to follow him; he’ll show up in your feed.