BinLeenk: His Humor Writings (Et Al.)

What Will It Take To Get You In This Wolf Sweatshirt Tonight?

Hey buddy. Check this out.

No. Wait! Don’t run away down that dark alley you can’t escape from. Hear me out.

Listen. I’m just going to cut the mustard. I have a wolf sweatshirt. It’s pretty awesome, and I think you’d look beautiful in it. There’s three wolves on it: one in profile shot, another staring his wolf eyes right at you and the last one is in silhouette mode howling at the moon. Please take a seat on that wet piece of cardboard and hear me out.

OK. You’re probably thinking this is some kind of sick fetish shit, but I’m not going to masturbate to just anyone in a wolf sweatshirt. Hold on. That didn’t come out right! What I mean is I’m looking for the right person to pass on this amazing wolf sweatshirt to. I’m scanning the crowded streets to determine the correct person, and that person is you!

I’ve worn this wolf sweatshirt for many moons, and now it’s time for another person to howl for it. Get it? You get it, right? Howl? As in wolves howl at the moon?

Anyway, I pulled you next to this trash bin for a reason. You have the shape and mannerisms that define a typical wolf-sweatshirt-wearer. I, myself, am a wolf-sweatshirt-wearer, and it makes me a particularly good judge of others, especially when it concerns whether or not they can wear a wolf sweatshirt or not. Now it’s time for me to pass on my coveted wolf sweatshirt to the next in line, which is you.

Hey! Are you dialing the cops? Will you stop that? I’m not meaning you any harm, guy. I may have picked up some rabies from a wolf, but it doesn’t make me a dangerous person. At least in this county. All I want is for you to put on this wolf sweatshirt, wear it proudly and occasionally join me in my den for wolf-related meetings. It’s in my mom’s basement. She’s a widow.

I can tell you’re a little confused, maybe even scared. That’s fine. I, too, felt the same when I was taken to my mentor’s den for my initiation. She said I should take off my shirt slowly and crawl into a small crate. I stayed there for a few months - actually, time lost all meaning while in those cages…

ANYWAYS! The authorities eventually discovered me and several others. I would have died if it weren’t for this wolf sweatshirt, which was given to me as a reward for digesting one of my fellow captives…

DON’T JUDGE ME! You do NOT know what I’ve been through!

Sorry. Outbursts happen. Wolves have them all the time. No. You don’t have to search for blunt objects to hit me with. It’s true. All you need to do is wear this wolf sweatshirt, and you will believe me. You will become me. You will be me.

I agree. That was a strange thing to say, so tell you what: take this wolf sweatshirt free of charge. You can wear it or not wear it. The choice is yours. Oh. You won’t wear it? Well, what if I staple it to your chest? You’d bleed for just a little bit. No? Well, that’s OK, too. How about you stuff it in your back pocket? That way, you’ll get used to the wolf sweatshirt. After a while, the alluring hunt will consume you like a wolf eating a meal.

Before you know it, you will act wolf-like, just like me. You will like it a lot. Liking is a thing you will do. Like. That’s a word you’ll use often. Liken is a word, too, but it will be used less often. That’s OK! There’s no pressure to use “like” all willy nilly. The important factor is to behave as if (“as if” is a synonym for “like”) you’re a wolf. “Hungry like a wolf” is a song by Duran Duran. Sorry. No, really. I apologize for that last one.

Hold up. Where’d you go?

Damnit. Lost another heir to the wolf sweatshirt throne. Oh well. I guess I’ll just gnaw on some trash…like a wolf.

2 January 2012 ·