One thing you have to know about me is that I sweat like a
motherfucker. I mean there are people who sweat in the “sporadic drops of sweat
in the forehead” sense, but when I say I sweat, I mean it in the “Oh my god!
That guy’s shirt is drenched! I bet he has dark underarms!” kind of way.

The cheap moisturizer I put on my face this morning didn’t
help my case either. You see, I had to barrel to the office today to get my
paycheck and have it encashed in the bank before it closes at three
o’clock
in the afternoon. I got in the office sometime around 2:45
pm, got
my check and traipsed up Emerald Avenue to where Standard Chartered bank
is. It wasn’t a long walk actually; just something like half a block but if
typing this paragraph alone is enough to make me sweat like a bitch already,
you could just imagine the dank, sticky, moisturizer disaster of a snowflake I
managed to turn myself into. So Hortaleza, whoever you are, fuck you; I’m not
buying moisturizer from you ever again. Bitch

Being that I have been overweight since I was 3 months
old, I have learned to live with my exorbitantly profuse sweating. Exorbitantly
profuse? Isn’t that redundantly redundant? I digress. As I was saying, I have
lived with my sweating long enough for me to make it my friend. We take long
walks at the park together, frolic in fields of daisies together, molest ten
year old school boys together; that sort of thing. There are some instances though
when I want sweat to just leave me the fuck alone. One such instance is when I
have these close encounters with really attractive women.

Me and my colleague Pete
have been talking about ‘Helpful Comments’ people offer to you in galling
commiseration. You know when people say stuff like “Man, you’re going to fail this
course. Tsk tsk. An entire semester wasted.” After seeing your failing midterm
examination grade? That’s a ‘helpful comment.’ I don’t know if anybody else
realizes this but more often than not, attractive women have a strong
inclination to offering comments like these.