I’m Afflicted by Affliction
So, I was thinking of buying an Affliction brand shirt the other day...
Nah, just kidding. I would never do that. But here's the internal conversation I imagine I would have if I ever did ponder committing such an atrocity:
Me 1: Well, I think I'm gonna finally do it.
Me 2: Do what?
Me 1: Certify my status as a total d-bag.
Me 2: Oh no! How does one go about doing that?
Me 1: By buying an Affliction shirt, of course!
Me 2: I'm not familiar. Please explain.
Me 1: Affliction is a brand of clothing. It's loved by over-muscled juice heads and skinny UFC wannabes. The shirts are usually plastered with the most nonsensical designs and bullsh*t phrases imaginable.
Me 2: Oh, sounds terrible.
Me 1: It is.
Me 2: And these permeate society?
Me 1: Oh yes! They're everywhere! That's why I want one!
Me 2: So, you'd rather fit in than stand out?
Me 1: Exactly!
Me 2: Doesn't that trouble you?
Me 1: Meh, not really.
Me 2: Oh, well I just looked and don't those shirts cost like $50?
Me 1: Oh damn. Yeah, never mind. I'm not wasting hard-earned money on that crap.