Don’t let Those Motherfuckers Steal Your Statue

Haters are gonna hate, and you’re told to just shake it off, or at least that’s what people say, but those motherfuckers aren’t going to get a hold of your statue, no sir.

Skipping out on your credit card bills means that they pretty much took everything you bought in the last 12 months, but c’mon let’s be real, you didn’t really need that 700-watt sound bar, that Marty McFly vest, the actual set to Muppets Tonight, or the LA Rams. Admit it: those were all impulse buys.

But this statue, it’s all you man. It’s “a gift” from the venue where you and your first ex-wife got married (before she took half of your shit and started sleeping with your best man and two of your groomsmen. For the clicks.) And yes, you really just took it back to the hotel room because at the time you drunkenly believed it had the most human-like nipples to ever be molded and cast into stone, or clay, or whatever the hell it is.

It’s been there through every shitty step of your life. Some say it’s cursed, but you just respond with “that’s the price for perfectly crafted nipples.” But the price has been steep. Not only have you had to spend thousands of dollars transporting it everywhere, but it’s consumed you mentally. In ways that no one could have ever predicted.

But it’s not all bad is it? When your loving mother fell through your floor and broke her back, after termites (that some have logically traced back to the statue) ate the shit out of your house, the nipple statue was still there, a shining reminder that sometimes things can work out.

After each of the 68 Tinder dates you agreed upon stood you up, your nipple statue was there (literally, at the meeting spot) to remind you that perfection is possible, if only in statue form.

And for the past six years you’ve been on the run with it. You’re like Bonnie and Clyde but one of you is a crazy old man and the other is a gorgeously erect nipple statue. Everyone from the park rangers to Nicolas Cage have been hunting you and that statue down, but you’ve been one step ahead of them the entire time.

See, you’ve gained a number of allies over the years, which means you’ve got friends everywhere. Smokey the Bear can distract the Park Rangers, and Edward Snowden will somehow pop up on American soil to fuck with the FBI. As for Mr.Cage, well you have a whole face-swapping schtick in store for him, one so insane that that it could only be dreamed up in the movies.

All that so those motherfuckers won’t steal your statue. Perfect nipple statue is what makes you. It’s your purpose in life to be with it. That’s why you quit your law firm, and shredded all your degrees and diplomas. Your life is with the statue now, just like anyone named Hitler will be tied to Nazi-ism, or similarly, Ryder and Millennial social justice warriors.

No this statue isn’t a fad, like Pogs, devil sticks, Crazy Bones or a fidget spinner. It’s the only thing worth keeping around.

But where will you keep it safe? Nowhere is safe for it, meaning you should probably craft a 50 foot pyramid-shaped holding structure in a remote location, so that your perfect nipple statue will be carefully preserved for the future. This is your statue, and no one is going to take it from you.



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