TFM
The “Fuck, did I just like that?” Moment
Don’t act like it’s never happened to you. It happened to me just about fifteen minutes ago. I was months back in a girls Instagram profile, just admiring how attractive she was, and my finger slipped. Boom. Accidental like. My immediate reaction, like every guy’s immediate reaction, was to unlike the picture as fast as I could. Believe it or not, this is actually the best course of action. Sure, you’re doing it because you’re panicking that the girl who you’ve never spoken to (but whose summertime bikini pics never fail to give you a half chub) might see that you’re an absolute weirdo, but trust me, that is the only course of action that allows for a clean getaway. By unliking it, you’ve given yourself an out, but you have to move quickly. Go as fast as you can to her most recent picture, and if it’s within a somewhat recent time frame – five days is probably the max you want to go – unlike and like that picture. That way if she got a notification for it, when she sees the like on the recent picture it won’t seem like you’re the fucking creep that you actually are. But… if her last post was from three weeks ago, you just have to pray she doesn’t have notifications on for likes. It’s completely terrifying, but all you can do is hope. That was the situation I was in today. If the person I did that to is reading this right now: you’re hot, and that’s why I did what I did.
The “Was that a fart?” Moment
The last time I shit my pants was summer 2020, but the last time I thought I shit my pants was approximately 12:07 p.m. today. I deleted a Baconator and spicy nuggets last night, and when I farted earlier, I was like 84% sure I was gonna check my underwear and find not-so-Awesome Sauce waiting for me. As funny as it is when you’re in your own home, this is one of the most nerve-racking situations when you’re out and about. Like yesterday. I was at my job selling medical marijuana, and I was slightly concerned that I had over-trusted a fart. When I couldn’t head to the bathroom to check right away, that slight concern turned into very real panic. I was fine, but wondering if I was walking around with a little shitsicle in my pants made me more anxious than I care to admit. Fellas, never trust a fart, and always be careful when trying to force one out.
The “Is this boner going to go down in time?” Moment
I don’t even know what else to say for this one. There is no worse feeling than being bricked up when you know that you’re going to have to stand and do something in the very close future. You’re sitting there knowing that this guy’s presentation is wrapping up, knowing that you’re up next, and knowing that daydreaming about what it would be to be Scarlett Johansson’s boy-toy was an absolutely terrible idea. All you can do is resort to your termite. What is a “termite,” you ask? A termite makes wood disappear. Cold showers, baseball, Betty White stripping, Logan Paul saying anything ever – you just have to have something on hand and pray to God almighty that it’ll work in time. And if it doesn’t? Walk up there and own that erection. Put in on fucking display. Make sure that everyone knows that you know that they know that you are stiff as a board. And make sure they know you don’t care. Or fake some kind of stroke or heart attack. There are really only those two options.
