You’ve had that moment. It’s that conversational T-bone collision (CTBC) that completely mangles all prior good feeling and turns everything afterward into a clusterf***. It comes in many shapes and sizes. Every shade of pain. Every level of hell.
There’s all kinds of CTBC’s to be had in a day. The professional:
You: Wow, so you’re giving me a promotion and a raise? Nice! Thanks!
Boss: No problem. The company’s got about 3 months left before declaring bankruptcy anyway.
You: *sigh* It’s good to be home for Thanksgiving! All this time talking and I haven’t seen Dad. Where is he?
Mom: He’s moving out his last few possessions. We’re getting a divorce.
Her: I’ve had so much fun meeting you. You’re more clever than any man I’ve ever met.
Him: When you have herpes you gotta up the ante a little.
You: This room is so full of abstract angles. The confined space speaks to the shortness of life and the miracle of birth. The approach of the artist is unique and nuanced in ways I never dreamed were possible.
Curator: I’ll be shuaah to let the janituh know you hold his wuhrk in such high regaaahd.
Curator: This is the janituh’s closet, suh.
Him: I’m so exhausted, but at least we made good time. Ten miles in an hour? Amazing!
Friend: Actually, we only went five miles. Your odometer broke halfway through and I didn’t have the heart to tell you.
And the traditional:
Friend 1: I haven’t seen you in so long. Catching up with you has been so much fun!
Friend 2: You suck. Lose my number.
Your wealth of experiences has led you to a variety of occurrences and events that have shaped you into the individual you are today. The CTBC happens when mother nature has one more fist to put to your temple. One more hip check to put you into the glass. And yet another foot for that ass.
You cannot predict the CTBC because it’s designed to take you off guard. Open up your sensibilities. Remind you that you’re vulnerable and that you are NOT Jack’s sense of all-knowing.
James Franco, by many accounts, is a douchebag. A charismatic douchebag that knows how to pick good movies with roles suited to his monotone delivery. But he’s handsome and smiles a lot so he’ll always draw females, 18-54. (Cosmetics commercials pay bank, fool. You better recognize!)
Conan O’Brien is NOT a douchebag. He’s a funny, self-effacing millionaire that managed to get The Tonight Show on his resume, get paid millions to quit the gig, and got another million dollar contact to do his show on basic cable. Along the way he managed to keep his staff paid and employed and happy.
So when Douchey Francdouche decided to tell a sextape story Conan was all into it as any good TV show host would do. Little did he know that in all his smarmy McDouchery, Franco thought it’d be interesting to mention a grandmother mid-bootytale. Conan, logically, flipped out a li’l bit.