Have you ever had someone tell you that a song reminded them of you? I think it only happened once for me. At least once that is worthy of writing about. I’m sure I remind lots of people about lots of songs. It’s amazing the things I will see or hear that remind me of other people. Every time I see a pork sandwich I think of this one girl I know who likes anal. Luckily I hardly ever see pork sandwiches. Even better, I hardly ever see Rachel “Backdoor” Rodriguez. She can no longer stand up straight anymore and it’s creepy.
The girl who told me I reminded her of two different songs was a lady who defined how much more wonderful MySpace was copmared to Facebook. Whenever I friend request random girls on Facebook they ask me who I am and I have to tell them I’m just a guy who thought she had nice breasts. Back on MySpace though, girls would actually add me to their friend’s list. I know I haven’t gone downhill from there because I’m thinner, sharper in the face, and a lot sassier than ever before. So why don’t wonderful things like this happen to me anymore?
(I was trying to find a picture of pants that said “sassy” on them but instead saw that Haley Joel Osmont has lost his dignity)
I forget how she found me but she did. She was the sister of one of my friend’s neighbor. So we were pretty much twins. I actually never ended up meeting her in person despite the fact we probably talked a lot online for close to two years. She didn’t live far away at all and we did have mutual associates. There was one factor that made me hesitant to ever actually hangout, I was almost 18 and she was in 8th grade.
Let’s pause for a moment before you start to think this is some sick pedophile story. Like I said, we never met. We never even talked dirty or anything like that. I’m being completely honest here too. The only time sex was even brought up was when I posted a MySpace bulletin (remember those?) asking if anyone wanted to blow me, you know, just to see what people’s opinions on the topic were. It was a school assignment. I got two messages. One was from a Goth girl in Massachusetts. The other was someone who would have gotten me locked up in prison.
(The Goth girl from Massachusetts pictured on the left)
My relationship with this girl was a very strange one. She would come to me for brotherly advice even though she had a brother only a year younger than me who could have done the same. I would help her out because she was a sweet girl and I guess we were actually friends. If anything she was the person who sexually harassed me. She posted “hey you’re hot” on my MySpace for everyone to see. Then her friend who ended up getting an abortion in 9th grade did the same thing. My girlfriend at the time saw and threatened to kill them both. The two younger girls were popular, attractive, and completely off-limits. This was some kind of sick joke. I was almost legally allowed to vote now and finally girls were noticing me years too late. I thought about cutting off my testicles. It made sense at the time.
Over time the girl started liking me more and more. She trusted me a whole bunch and would ask me to interpret songs for her because I was the smartest person she knew. What happened to me? I’m not the smartest person anyone knows. In exchange for interpreting lyrics, this young lady told me two songs that made her think about me.
The first song I reminded this girl of was “Wake Me Up When September Ends” by Green Day. I asked her why this song made her think of me. She had no clue. The second song I reminded her of was a song created when Satan farted onto a dead orphan, “Photograph” by Nickelback.
What. The. Fuck.
Here I was, being incredibly nice and helpful and she was saying I was the equivalent to not only a Nickelback song but to THE Nickelback song. The worst one they have. The one where they talk about a piece of shit on Joey’s head. I was hurt.
Slowly we drifted apart as she got into high school and became more popular while I graduated and became the nothing I am today. We stopped talking sometime around the end of my senior year when she said her brother found out who I was then reported back to her. We stopped talking after this. Our creepy friendship did not ended with a bang, but a whimper. And by whimper I mean I cried in my bedroom for days.
(Then I made a brown smoothie and I felt better)
I’m not sure what her brother said, but it was not favorable I’m sure. If you have been reading me for a while, which you better have been, you may remember a similar story. I guess this is what they mean about history repeating itself. You can read about the other story here then come to the same determination I have, 8th grade girls are shallow bitches who lack the ability to relate the proper songs to my personality.
So if you never have heard them, here are the songs that apparently defined who I was when I was 17.
Is there a song that reminds you of me? Is there a song that other people say reminds you of them?