My whole life, I've always considered myself as someone with a thicc set of skin. For whatever reason, I have this uncanny ability to bounce back from disappointment at a moment's notice. Whether it was a gift from God or something that was learned, keeping my composure in times of stress was never an issue. I was like a bouncy ball: You could throw me at the ground as hard as you wanted, but I was coming right back up. What I've come to realize, though, is that like a bouncy ball, I too lose kinetic energy following every bounce.
That being said, this last year has been the biggest test of my life. God threw all he could at me at age 25. I found that I can no longer trust farts, and ghost poops are unheard of. For those of you who don't know what a ghost poop is, you may recognize it's alternative name "the one-and-done." It's when you only have to wipe a singular time after shitting. Arguably a gift from God, and one that I haven't received in a full year.
I also got laid off from my job earlier in the year and was unemployed for nearly four full months. During that same time, my imaginary girlfriend broke up with me. I made that bitch who she was, literally. Yet she had the nerve to get up and leave me when I needed her most.
More recently, to make matters worse, Spotify outed me as being gay. Shortly after that, I was arrested at a Detroit Pistons game following an argument about why using a small urinal was superior. I'll be the first to say I took it a little too far, but had I been straight, it would have been a disorderly conduct charge. Unfortunately, since Spotify exposed me as a Pop-Rap lover, placing my hands around another man's waist to show him how to pee is all of a sudden a sexual harassment charge. Buncha bullshit. Finally, like God's fucked up version of icing on a cake, the president of FaHoo [my iPhone 5 (11 Mini)], drowned in a tragic washing machine incident.
Despite all of this, I fought on, using FaHooNews.com as my sole purpose for continuing. It's been both a creative and emotional outlet for me. After every article I write — most likely involving me shitting on someone else's existence — I can get up from my seat, knowing that I'm the smartest hypocrite in the room. I then shut my laptop, stretch my 25-year-old legs, walk downstairs, and give my mother and father a goodnight kiss on the lips.
After a good night sleep, I'll receive a wave of responses from the internet; Both good and bad. I love to see when people enjoy what I post. And for whatever reason, the ones who hate it have never bothered me. In fact, I usually get a good laugh out of it:
But all that has changed. Recently, I turned 26; and just like the candles on the cake, my confidence was blown. I'm no longer a funny, young 25-year-old. I'm now a nearly 30-year-old man writing about the evolution of Instagram models in my spare time. I panicked and immediately ran to Reddit to reassure my self-worth and remind myself of how funny and witty I still was. What I didn't see coming was this:
It was my 9/11: The day my confidence came crashing down. I had officially hit rock bottom. The getting banned part wasn't the issue; I've been there 10+ times before, and honestly, I probably deserved it. What bothered me was the fact that these moderators felt superior enough to tell me I was trash:
A girl telling me my dick is small; My family disowning me; A bum giving me money; Someone telling me I use too many semicolons…These are the things that I imagined would ruin my confidence. Not a group of humans who spend hours a day moderating a fucking subreddit. Let alone one called r/WhitePeople. After they told me no one cares about FaHoo, I knew I had to bring the HEAT:
Although I'll most likely never bounce back from this, I think it's fair to say I got the best of them in that exchange. I'm already feeling better. So, maybe 26 is my year.
Yeah…You know what? Had I been an athlete, I'd be entering my prime. YEAH! I'm not going to let some fucking subhumans keep me down. If Martin Luther King Jr. stopped when things got tough, God only knows what kind of fucked up world we'd live in.
Granted, had Hitler given up after his failed art career, things might've been different, too…. But that's not the point. This is just motivation to fuel the machine that is FaHoo. Nothing's going to stop me from building this site into the most mediocre passion project the internet's ever fucking seen. Fuck r/WhitePeople; Always trying to keep the common man down and insert their opinion where they have no say. Whitesplaining to me what is and isn't funny...Good luck keeping this brother down. Forward I move!
Apparently I can comment with pictures. That seems possibly dangerous. Anyway, here's a picture of my feet, you fucking sicko
Aight, I'll be honest here, Mr. Bigleys; I've never enjoyed that font either. It was tough to read. I do, however, like your use of semicolons.
P.S. You got a personal message from a mod of r/whitepeople?! You've made it, Bigleys. This IS your year.