OFS- out for season.

If you haven’t watched sportcenter recently and seen the latest injury reports, you probably missed seeing me on the bottomline. Yours truly, Joseph Orenthal Perlson had ankle surgery to fix a broken fibula. Although I have been munching on mad percocettes and chiefing on the bitterest of herb’s, I’m still very unsatisfied with being OFS.

Being OFS is way more than being injured. OFS means that the man I once was is not the man I currently am. My usual funny lines have been replaced with cynicism that makes even the lightest of corridors feel like a satanic cave. Think of it like this, the only people that would enjoy chilling with me right now is, Hitler, Ozama, and Babe Didrickson Zaharias. BDZ gives an awful beej, If beejing was a dogshow then BDZ would be one of them ugly dogs that poops everywhere and barks at the judges.

I cant stand being OFS but I am trying to make the most out of the situation. As I was laying in bed this morning eating mcdonald’s breakfast and farting on my housekeeper, I said something mad funny. I said listen to my housekeeper, “listen, the next time I fart, I want you to clean my ears of my earwax and pick my nose and make a sculpture out of my boogers. It just seemed like such a good idea at the time because its not like anything tight was happening at the moment. The result of her booger earwax sculpture made me feel mad happy. She created a sombrero out of my booger and earwax and then wore it to the bowling alley and bowled a 300.

The lesson to be learned is that although i am OFS, my body still secretes championship type results. I lived vicariously through my housekeeper today, and she proved to me that I will once again rise to the top of my game. Next time you are OFS, JUST LIVE VICARIOUSLY THROUGH YOUR HOUSEKEEPER.