Lesser Known Curses

Oh sure, everyone loves talking about those famous curses.

Like the Kennedy Curse, or like that Egyptian one about that vampire guy, or that popular sporting magazine one. You know, that one where people and/or horses appear on the glossy front page of the magazine....and then directly following appearing on the magazine frontside they perform poorly in their sporting events and/or break their hooves and die. (RIP Barbaro)

Or that famous sporting video game curse wherein the player will appear on the front of the instruction manual and then subsequently will distract me from reading said manual which causes me to lose many games online.

Seriously, as soon as someone tells me the button that shows me how to "not punt on every play" it's a whole new ballgame. You better watch out Slick Richard Dollar Sign Dollar Sign Sixty Nine Ampersand Dollar Sign.

Or the curse of getting easily sidetracked, but today's focus is on Curses that are equally as bone-threatening as those mentioned, but much less publicized.

Firstly, the curse of Kyle and talking to girls!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
It is good to laugh.

Second the more bone-thrilling magazine front curse: THE CURSE OF THE DINOSAUR TIMES

How can losing a sporting event compare to BEING DEAD. After poring through the archives of all of the covers of The Dinosaur Times and cross-referencing them with the current whereabouts of the subjects I came to the following bone-thrashing conclusion: every living thing that ever appeared on the cover of the Dinosaur Times is now tragically dead!

That's right even noted paleontologist Baron Georges Léopold Chrétien Frédéric Dagobert Cuvier (1769-1832) who died in bed at age 62 of cholera. Is nothing sacred to you Dinosaur Times Curse?

Next months cover subject may break the curse though, "New Species of Hadrosaurid Found In Alberta". That sounds hopeful.

And lastly is the Curse of the Tiny Subway Seats.

TTC, what the hell. We can put a man on the moon but we can't make subway seats large enough that comfortably seat a creepy sweaty guy and a cringing, sucked together as tiny horizontally as he can guy?

I used to love casual Friday but now I know all it means is that my short sleeve baremanarms are going to get abused by the dude next to me. The dude who also won't stop licking his lips.

Hey, Watermelon Lipsmackers if I slide myself on over that isn't an invitation for you to spill over the seat line and continue to touch me and take up even more space. It means stop touching me guy.

And do you kids really have to listen to the music in your headphones so loudly?

Or wear your hair so long? That's ridiculous, it's getting in your eyes, you probably can't even see half the time. You're probably wearing it that long to hide those drug eyes you've got going on. I know you didn't think I noticed, but notice I did. You've got the pot squints, the old H-town shuffle going on, and I swear to God if a cop steps onto this subway I am turning you in Buster and there isn't going to be any earbuds in Juvy, you'll be lucky to get Air Buds 1-4 (Air Bud: Seventh Inning Fetch). Or that Crime Dog pilot that Fred McGriff did that Scott was telling me about, that sounded awful. Wait, I'm getting sidetracked again, what was I talking about?

Curses.