Magic's Nonfiction Anthology of Silly Nonsense

    Hey everybody, awhile ago I posted a real life story of mine in the #writing chat in discord. People thought it was funny, I floated the idea of sharing more of those stories in a little anthology thread, and some people were super down. Individually, these stories are too short to justify publishing on their own, but I think they can stand together as like one thing. So here's three stories to start - if I end up in more, or remember other ones, I'll just make another post in this thread with those, okay?

    One thing I can definitely say I am is non-social. Essentially, I like to be on my own alot - principally because I'm bad at keeping conversations going, and also because I find myself resisting the urge to strangle people if I'm around the too long.

    What this means is, while I like hanging out with my friends, alot of the time I just wanna be on my own. It's not sad or lonely to me - I just have a limited amount of sociability for a day. Once it's used up, I go from cracking on my friends and telling jokes to being more quiet than petrified wood and very annoyed.

    That's not very fun for people, as you can imagine, so when I'm all used up, I just sit on my own.

    Apparently, unbeknownst to me, some people at school felt a certain measure of pity for me, as one day, I'm sitting on the steps eating, and reading something on my phone. I'm over there, chilling out and recharging for my next class, all alone.

    Suddenly this chick comes up to me, and says something along the lines of, "Hey, you wanna sit with us?"

    Now, me being a massive push over, I get up slowly and say, "Yeah, sure." Before I know it, I'm sitting around a bunch of people I don't know with nothing to say.

    This continues for about two days, and eventually the girl asks me out of nowhere, "Hey, are you gay?"

    …

    "… Nnnno?" I reply.

    The next day?

    "Are you an orphan?"

    …

    "… Nnnno?" I reply.

    So I stopped sitting with them, now know aware of the fact that people think of me as a gay orphan. What fun.

---

    #2 - The Heart of the Cards

    Cards Against Humanity is an interesting game.

    Cards Against Humanity is a funny game.

    Cards Against Humanity is…

    Cards Against Huma-

    Y'see, when I'm sitting with my friends, there's a number of things we do to pass the time between lunch and our next class. We play Smash, we talk n' joke, and we sometimes play - say it with me now - Cards Against Humanity.

    If you don't know what this game is, think Apples to Apples meets Southpark. If you don't know what Apples to Apples is, think multiplayer Mad Libs. If you don't know Mad Libs?

    Well… piss off! You know what Mad Libs are.

    Anyways, one thing that really makes the game intriguing is that it really gives you an intimate look at the sense of humor your friend group shares. As an example, playing a 'The Gays' card is pretty much winning the round instantly with my friends. They think 'The Gays' is funny as shit, and as someone who is half-'The Gays' myself, I'm inclined to agree.
    
    This does mean, though, that there are a number of cards that are pretty much useless - only to be used strategically as burner cards when you know you have better cards. One such card?

    'My Sex Life.'

    Now, let's be clear here: the 'My Sex Life' card is almost never funny. There's nothing clever to be done with it, no secret combo to unlock its potential, and to be frank, it's trash.

    So I'm sitting here at the table. I've got a handful of shit-tier cards - people I've never heard of and elaborately unfunny crude jokes - and no chance at winning the game. In fact, I've not won a single round up to this point.

    I've been holding on to this card for five rounds straight, never getting anything better, and desperately praying for the cards to just throw me a bone.

    Then I have an epiphany.

    I get it. I get it! I get why I can't win, and I can't win because I'm not believing in the heart of the cards hard enough. If I could just believe in the heart harder than however hard I believed before, then I believe the cards - whose heart I believe in - will throw me a hard heart-shaped bone heart. Believe it.

    That is to say, I'm slowly going insane.

    All of a sudden, I hear it - the next black card! The card Tzar!

    I realize then that I've done it. This is the one. I finally found the one card that can work with this stupid, useless fucking 'Sex Life' of mine.

    I play the card.

    The table explodes - probably with laughter, but I can't guarantee bodily fluids weren't also involved.

    And what was the winning combination, you ask?

    'My Sex Life - Kid tested, mother approved!'

---

    So I'm sitting in the car with my buddy's dad. His name is Sean, but let's just call him Shawn for privacy reasons, okay?

    I had just spent a wonderful weekend with my buddy Max, who I've known forever. Consequently, I've also known his dad a long time as well - though apparently not as well as I'd thought.

    This guy's fairly blatantly been attracted to my mom for awhile now. Whenever my mom is present, he always makes sure to chat her up in that particularly dorky Jehovah's Witness way that he does. It's as charming as it is comical, in an ironic sense.

    Now, I understand why he's like this - at the time, he'd just been dumped by this Vietnamese girl named Ivy, and he was probably still reeling. I met her a few times, she's a cool chick, and her daughter was a decent sax player, but the whole situation left a bad taste in Shawn's mouth after the fact.

    How do I know this?

    Well, like I said, I'm sitting here in the car with Shawn. He's driving me home, and we still got like a half hour until we get there, so we're talking.

    Somehow, and I'm not sure exactly how, we reach the topic of "Asian" culture.

    Now, I don't know if you know anything about Asia, but to be quick, saying something is typical of "Asian culture," is like saying something is typical of "North American culture," - it almost makes sense, but then you think about the broader implication of what that combination of words actually means, and realize that whatever you're about to say regarding these generalized groups is meaningless nonsense.
    
    I know this through a combination of study, logic, and also being an eighth Asian myself - I get it from my mom, who’s like a quarter.

    So he goes on this shpiel about how Asian culture is obsessed with happiness, and finding happiness, and blah blah blah, he thinks it's better to care about accomplishments and yadda yadda yadda…

    And then the bombshell.

    "… I don't trust Asians," he says to the kid whose mom - that he regularly hits on - is part Asian.

    Now, as you can imagine, that was a pretty big fucking "UMM," from me, so I tell him straight up that both me, and my mom, are part Asian, and that what he just said was fucked up.

    …

    About twenty minutes later, I'm happily eating the Panda Express he bought me as an apology.

    I should be mad, but…

    … fuck it, chow mein tastes batter than righteous indignation.