People sometimes expect me to have great stories to share. And i do have a few of those and hope to get a few more when i get back on the road next month, although i’ve written before about how unremarkable much of my lifestyle ultimately is — as well as the remarkable that is probably hidden within anyone’s most mundane experiences.
One of my favorite websites on the whole visible Internet is História Sem Graça — a collection of non-stories submitted and curated by readers. For those of you who can’t read Portuguese, this is how it works:
- Readers submit stories;
- Other readers judge them — if they’re good stories, they DON’T get published on the website!
This was the top one on the feed at the time of this writing:
“o cara que eu gosto estagia comigo, sento atrás dele pra tentar olhar sua bunda”
História Sem Graça, accessed on March 29th, 2019
It freely translates into something like, “the guy i like is an intern with me, and i sit behind him so i can check out his ass.”
Brilliant!
Seriously, isn’t that a significant part of most people’s lives — looking for opportunities to check out the asses of people we find attractive without being noticed?
At least that’s a great deal of what i did while riding my bicycle during the two years i lived in Copenhagen, especially when waiting for the green light — i must have been contemplating the magnificence of my friend’s legs for about seven seconds already when she turned around and we finally recognized and greeted each other — i felt a bit embarrassed, but she said she was flattered!
But i digress.
Had the story on top of the feed been another one, i’d have likely written a whole other unremarkable
How was it, by the way?
Seriously, if you feel like sharing, i’d like you to tell me the least remarkable event that you can remember in your life this past week — actually, no — least remarkable is too remarkable still — tell me something average!
I don’t know . . .
Damn, the harder i try, the harder it gets!
___
Featured photo: for whatever reason (or perhaps no reason whatsoever), i collect photos of conspicuously parked red vans — this one was seen at
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‘Trelograms’ is a wordplay between ‘telegram’ and ‘trélos’ (Greek for ‘mad’)