Area man wearing Canada Goose jacket on train likely going home to cry himself asleep

Chicago, IL-The sniveling, cherub faced fucking muppet wandering aimlessly around the train like a new born lamb, wrapped in his luxury Canada Goose parka, is undoubtedly on his way home to cry himself to sleep. His beady eyes and quivering lips, barely visible through the luxurious fur lining the oversized hood, reek of the type of despondency pacified only by the purchase of a luxury item.

Absolutely every feature and accessory is curated to appear spineless, a thousand lifetimes void of hardship or adversity. He’s not suited for the cold, or anything for that matter.

He rides the train with an air of contentment, periodically glancing up from his tablet sized phone to ensure that his leather messenger bag is positioned in a way that makes him look like a world traveler but also someone who burns the midnight oil at a well-known agency. He adjusts the laces on his chukka boots and perfectly tailored selvedge denim jeans.

Featureless and completely forgettable, docile, compliant, his possessions function as a personality of sorts. Perceived intrigue in an otherwise wholly uninteresting existence, he waits patiently for the moment he can return to his apartment, bury his doughy face in his pillow and weep until exhaustion sets in and he falls asleep.

Mundane Tinder date spent agreeing that it is “definitely winter out there”

Hammond, Indiana-On Tuesday, in the nicest Bar Louie in town, a floundering Tinder date was rescued by an all too familiar topic of conversation. With no hobbies, interests or distinguishable personalities, the couple sat in excruciating silence and both considered internally the prospect of dying alone. The date was going as most dates go and furthermore most interactions.

Until all of the sudden, a consequential occurrence manifested in one of the Tinder participants. He recalled that, though there was absolutely nothing about his life worth discussing, that it had in fact gotten much colder as the season changed from fall to winter. It was a long shot, but the predictable changing of seasons was a timeless conversation piece for people who have nothing to say but nonetheless feel obligated to say something.

He blurted out “It is definitely winter out there huh? I’ll tell yah,” to which she mercifully responded “It is so cold, it wasn’t as cold last week, but I still think it is warmer this week than it is supposed to be next week.” The idiotic, reheated crutch had worked yet again. The mundanity of the weather provided the catalyst needed to suffer through the rest of the date. Fortunately talk about the weather can inexplicably sustain romantic relationships, friendships, work relationships and family ties for decades.

The speculation. The gloating. The bitching. General observations. Are the foundation for any healthy relationship. And when the season changes again, he’ll undoubtedly swoop in with a memorable, “Woah, it is definitely summer.”

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