Readers,Today has been a positively abysmal day for our favorite guy. We promised him we wouldn't bring it up again, but his depression has to do with the outcome of a certain collegiate football game. [Rhymes with "Tirginia Vech"] Please continue to keep him in your thoughts during this difficult time.
Suffice it to say, it will be a while before Chris can utter the phrase "onside kick" without slamming the remote control into the couch and reminding himself how quickly this game went to shit. After an evening of celebrating our seemingly imminent win with refreshments, laughter, good friends and exuberant high-fives, the game took a nosedive as the Hokies botched the aforementioned play. [Sorry, Chris.] Today's cold, grey, rainy weather, a mild hangover and society's eight-hour workday have only compounded his feelings of hopelessness, as have a tingling in his left ring finger and pinky from sleeping on his arm wrong, and the fact that I ironed a shirt for him that he'd already worn twice this week. Regarding the latter, upon bringing the repeat shirt to my attention, I applauded him for at least moving on from the game, to which he replied: "I'm trying to care about something."
Our morning proceeded as such, wrought with Chris's grunts of dissatisfaction, painful outcries of cuss words and rhetorical questions like "How could they let that happen??!," and the occasional motivational axiom: "I guess I gotta just keep on keepin' on." Unfortunately, he declined to be formally interviewed by CW, saying only, "I'm inconsolable. I don't want to talk about it anymore." And he was serious.
So you're probably wondering, what can I do to assuage his pain? For starters, remind the big guy that if he's hurting, we're all hurting. Send your letters of reassurance and encouragement to us at BigJuicyVan[at]Gmail[dot]com.
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