To be fair, it was cold out that night

by Jonathan Super
During some cold night on a boardwalk in any shore town two men stand unmotivated.  They talk about topics of no particular importance. “Don’t you think the word “fair” is kind of a strange?”  “What do you mean?”  “I mean, everyone talks about what it means to be fair, so, I was bored and I looked it up.”  “Uh huh.”  “It basically means beautiful, but it can also mean something unblemished or pure, so for something to be fair, that thing must be pure, unblemished, totally free of bias.  This holds the word at a pretty high standard.”  “Okay.  So what?”  “So, I just thought that, for something to be fair, an idea that is related to purity and beauty, anything unfair or foul, must be related to something unclean, gross, vile and corrupt.  Which means to accuse somebody of being unfair, the accuser must first understand unfairness is a strong accusation and that they are making a point that has some strength in it.  Making someone seem impure and bias carries a heavy weight.”  “So you think people don’t understand the word?”  “I guess so.  Most people don’t give a shit about anything but their own well being, so instead they throw words around for either their own advancement, the destruction of another, or just for some attention.”  “Nobody uses the word that way, so what’s the difference?”  “The difference is that they are wrong, but there is something else interesting about it.  Since the word means beautiful, I was figuring that ugly people must get a raw deal.”  “Okay.”  “I mean, since they embody the image of unfair, ugly people must have a higher frequency of being seen as unfair, corrupt, vile, nasty, shitty fucks.  Whereas beautiful people get away with whatever they want because it’s only fair for the fair to be fair, you know?”  “Alright, fine, that’s a little too meta for me.  Turn away, I got to take a piss.”  The man turns away while the other takes his penis out and pisses between rails along the boardwalk. “You done, it’s cold.”  “Yeah.”  “I’m going home.”  “Wait.  One thing.  My dick almost got stuck to the railing like a tongue to a metal pole.”  “That would be unfair for sure.”  “Real funny wordsmith; anyway, let’s tell everyone that it did get stuck and you had to run and get warm water, then pour it over my frozen dick.”  “I don’t think people will believe it.” “Just go with it.”  “Alright.” Walking away to their cars leaving one penis story heavier than before while one conversation will die while waiting to be recalled.

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