Dave, my bunkmate

I have just been informed that Dave’s parents are reading this blog. Well, I might at times seem like just an average mild-mannered blogger, but I’m a nasty muckraker at heart. So here it is: all the dirt on my bunkmate Dave.

1. He looks 6’3” or something, but he’s not as tall as he looks. How does he do this? Well, have you ever seen the movie Gataca? The main character—-a genetically deficient short man—-really wants to look like an overachiever, so he gets his legs surgically elongated. But the moral of the story was: bad genes can still go a long way. I say: shoot for the moon, Dave, shoot for the moon.

2. Yesterday was hump day, the midway point of the voyage, so Dave forced me to switch bunks. Now I’m in the top bunk. He did this completely out of spite, but he didn’t realize that hot air rises and the top bunk is actually warmer and preferable. I’ll let him go on thinking he’s won a vicious little victory, but the truth is, Dave is too incompetent to even be mean. Poor upbringing, I say. Possibly bad genes too.

3. The joke Dave likes telling the most is a long winded story about a brick-throwing contest. It’s very long and stupid—-I refuse to go into more detail. If you’re curious, try googling it, I guess. Anyway, where did he get this joke from? Most likely from deficient childhood experiences.

4. Dave has been reading The Life of Pi for the past week, and he’s still only 50 pages into the thing. I’ll admit, I thought that book was one of the hugest, sloppiest turds ever, but still, what a slow reader! Combination bad genes and poor upbringing. Double whammy.

There you have it, Mr. and Mrs. Ullman... the truth about your son Dave.