A Very Happy and Sunny Life

by Wearin Hat

Entry 3: Unpleasant Pony is Unpleasant

Did I ever tell you that I’m not a morning pony?

Well, it’s actually more like the afternoon really.

No, wait. I’d say evening would be more accurate.

Crap, that won't work either. This is technically my morning and I’m not gonna start calling my morning evening just to appease you.

That being said, however, I can’t in good conscience leave you confused about what time of day it is. That would just be rude of me. And, if I'm not anything, I'm not rude. After all, books are ponies too after all.

There has got to be a way where I still win without you losing. Well, without you losing too poorly.

I can’t say it’s evening cause it’s morning, but I can’t say it’s morning cause it’s evening…

Conundrums are fun.

They aren't.

You know, Booky, you might actually be surprised to know that this isn’t the first time my superior sense of time has clashed against the pathetic norms of society.

Haha, norm.

Anyphrase, yeah, I’ve been in this situation before. I was still at the hospital nursing the burns that the retarded mail-mare gave me when she burned my damn house down. Nurses and doctors would come in and wake me up during the night/day to see how I was doing. Like the assholes they were and probably still are. Jerks.

My response to those unwelcome interruptions? Why, I thought you'd never ask!

Curses, lots and lots of curses. And no, I’m not talking about cussing or spewing obscenities, I’m talking about curses. You know, the ones those dirty zebra savages cast on each other and whatnot? Anyclay, they would wake me up and I’d scream as many curses as I could make up. And make up are the right words for it, since none of those damn chants worked. Unless you count getting suddenly pregnant a curse, because that totally happened. Just, you know, not to me.

You want to know the funniest part?

Of course you do. Who wouldn't? I'm fucking hilarious.

During the day/night, I would scream and holler for help and assistance but receive nothing. Nothing but security guards telling me shut up so that other ponies could sleep. My response? More curses! One of them even worked when this strange barking pony attacked one of the burly security guards who definitely had a fetish for muscles.

Huh, I guess that makes for two curses that have worked, which I find very interesting for, you see, two is more than one but less than three.

Mind boggling, I know.

I’m not gonna lie Booky, you look confused. Was it that day/night thing? Cause I totally told you, in paragraph one, If I'm not mistaken (I'm not.), that would get confusing. I’ll have to think about a way in which I can talk and not confuse- wait!

Are flies called that because they can fly? If so, then why don't we call worms digs? And, for that matter, what even is a hedgehog? A mouse? Shrubbery? So many questions...

Anymay, as I was saying- wait! I've got it! I remembered what I forgot!

You don’t have a name!

Well crap, here I am complaining about confusing you and I haven’t even named you yet. That must be so confusing.

Let’s get right to that in the next paragraph!

First things first, are you a boy book? I don’t see a table of contents, that must mean no. Which must mean that you’re a girl book! Wait, no, you don’t have an index either.

Well crap, what does that mean?

Are you both or neither?

Shirley was a lady…she had a very feminine index that I found to be fitting for a book of her stature. You? You don’t even have a glossary! Which means Chuck is out, which sucks cause I really like that one.

Glenda? Would you like that? No, too indecisive (And no one likes indecision.).

How about Ax McHammer? No, too constructiony.

Why not Zoidberg? Nah, too crablike.

I’m running out of options here Booky. I mean, I could call you Greg, that’s pretty neutral. What do you think Booky, is Greg a good name for you? Cause now that I say it some more I’m starting not to like it.

Hm. This is difficult.

Booky, why can't your name be Booky?

Wait! I've got it! How about Booky?! Is that one you’d be interested in?

It is?!

Haha, got you! I know you can’t talk. You’re a book. That’d be weird. A talking book. As if.

I hereby christen you Booky McHammer.

Alright, where was I?

Oh yes, the morning/evening thing.

Well, let’s see, I’m in a creative mood at the moment and that usually means creative things.

How about evering? Nah, too not good enough.

Hm, how about mevening? I like that one; it has all the oomph of an ‘m’ and all the pizzazz of the ‘ing’ ending.

BoomEEEERAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!

Good'ist morrow, Booky! Did'ist I'ith ever'ith tell'ith thou that'ith I am'ist not'ith a mevening poneigh?

Wow. I managed to piss myself off with that one.

Anykay, it just never clicks with me. I mean, if Celestia meant for ponies to be all hyperactive and ready for the day in the mevening then she wouldn’t have invented coffee. Anyhay, I just don’t like the mevening. Everypony outside is all happy and not sad and they’re all doing stuff while I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast in peace.

Can you believe that!? What more could a stallion ask for than a hearty breakfast?

Worst of all, my mevenings really tend to suck because that’s when ponies usually like to screw around and mess with me.

Who do they think they are interrupting me like that? I mean, party invites, mail delivery (If I ever answer the door when that retard comes a knocking she will be in for a world of pain.), package delivery, cake delivery, candygrams, mandycrams, stopping by to say hello, and other annoying things like that.

What do they think I am; a welcome mat?

Jerks, that’s what they are, they’re all jerks!

Especially Pinkie Pie. It seems like it’s every mevening with that stupid mare. She never takes no for an answer unless you hit her in the face with a big N, a big O, and a big ..

Anymoo, my day is going to be a normal one I suppose. I have to deliver the goodies I found last night to Twilight (NERD.). She’ll definitely buy it all like she always does. I mean, honestly, sometimes I feel really bad about taking advantage of her.

Luckily, those times are few and far between.

Besides, it isn’t like bits are hard to come by for somepony as intrinsically important as she is. She’s the personal student of the Princess herself!

And how fucking stupid is that? Do you need a degree to become a princess? A fucking doctorate?

There’s another point I’d like to bring up; why the fuck is she so important! I mean, I’m not complaining that she IS important; I’m complaining that she is ALWAYS important. If anything ever happens in this place (This place of ponies. One may even liken it to a ville of them, so to say.) it always has something to do with her.

Did Nightmare Moon get out? You bet Twilight had something to do with it. Crap, purple bitch probably unlocked the door.

Are parasprites eating the town and giving me nearly two months of backbreaking labor to do a horrible job cleaning the debris up? You bet Twilight had something to do with it. Little bastards had to come from somewhere and I can't think of anywhere better than the mad scientist's lab. And I'm betting she's got a lab in that tree!

Is there a sudden dragon attack on the town giving me months of backbreaking labor to do a very poor but still kinda decent job cleaning the debris up? You bet Twilight had something to do with it. For my sake, SHE LIVES WITH A DRAGON. As in, there is a fucking DRAGON in her house/tree/library/laboratory/lair. You know who houses DRAGONS? Fucking villains, that's who. And no, I don't mean those that fuck villains. I mean villains. As in, villains themselves.

Did Discord break free and get defeated, leaving me no mess to clean up for once? You bet Twilight had something to do with it. Fucking villain.

Did Town Hall just fall apart? You can bet that Twilight didn’t do that.

Did my house just burn down? You can bet Derpy did it.

Did I nearly burn alive in the flaming remains of my house and possessions? You can bet Derpy did it.

SERIOUSLY. FUCK HER. FUCK HER TO THE GROUND. THAT FUCKING RETARD NEEDS TO GO. THIS WHOLE FUCKING WORLD IS FUCKING TIRED OF HER.

FUCK.

You know what, Booky? It’s curse time.

THE WALL-EYED MARE IS A PAIN IN THE PLOT AND I HOPE HER LEGS BREAK SO SHE MAY NOT TROT!

GREY PONIES ARE DUMB, STUPID, AND RETARDED AND I HOPE HER BREATH WILL ALWAYS SMELL LIKE SHE FARTED!

EYE TO THE LEFT, EYE TO THE RIGHT, I HOPE SHE BURNS TO DEATH ALL DAMN NIGHT!

ROSES ARE RED, VIOLETS ARE BLUE, FUCK THAT BITCH!

Phew!

Catharsis!

That really helps!

Too bad none of that’s gonna happen. She freaking deserves it to happen.

I’d love to stay and talk my dear old friend, but breakfast is calling for me and I have stuff to do today.

Comments

[Travolore]

Curse time is laugh time.