Write a parody about yourself in the second or third person

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Make it as short or as long as you want! Make it as funny, serious, or disturbing as you want as well as a minimum of two paragraphs.

I'll start...

Just yesterday, while watching the news, I saw report about some weirdo with some mental problem called Aspergers Syndrome who goes by the name of Anonymous Anonymous. In the report, this Anonymous Anonymous fellow is being accused of going on a non-violent rampage fueled by his going psychologically haywire after finding out that he's not passing his classes at a junior college he attends classes at. Once subdued, he was tied to a chair he was sitting on and his mouth taped shut.

It's been said that college students who don't pass their classes just keep trying until they succeed, but go crazy? Seriously? This dude, according to the report, has done the same class about five times, yet he thinks getting help won't make much of a difference. But why go crazy over not passing a class? This dude seriously needs help once he's in a mental hospital for both his educational needs and his psychological needs.




OK people, your turn.

So I was at the mall yesterday when I saw this girl who was walking in the midst of a big crowd and looking extremely uncomfortable. There was one person who accidentally bumped into her, and she went ballistic, screaming and cursing at the person; apparently, she doesn't like to be touched that much. It was drama central...I thought I heard her say something about her having something called Asparagus Syndrome--no wait, it was Asperger's Syndrome. My bad.
Anyway, this chick finally gets out of the crowd and makes her way over to a bench, rubbing her forehead with her fingers, like she had a headache or something. Seriously? A headache? At the mall? She's a complete nutcase; even my friends agreed with me.

Anyhoo, we were walking past the bench this girl was sitting on, and just for the fun of it, I went over to ask her why she was rubbing her head. I don't think I've ever had such a nasty look sent my way; a moment later, she started cursing me out as well, talking about how if you had spent most of the day walking around in a crowded building, you'd have a headache as well. I told her that I had spent most of the day at the mall, and nothing had happened to me, so why was she feeling that way? Was she psychotic or something? And once again, she mentioned she had Asperger's Syndrome. Not knowing what that was, but in too much of a rush to get to the sale at Macy's to ask this girl what this syndrome was, I smiled at her and told her that I hoped her fear of the mall would get better before the day was over. I'm really not sure what caused this, but she then stood up and started walking away from my friends and me, screaming loudly and attracting the attention of the people around her. I was embarrassed for her; I and my friends turned around and walked in the opposite direction, fully prepared to deny that we even bothered to talk to her in the first place.

I have a comic strip where I occasionally poke fun at myself.
Here are a few:
The Usual Package
Think Outside the Box (The conversations I have in my head...)

Um, not to be a pain, but 2nd and 3rd person narratives are "you" and "he/she", not "I" like I'm seeing here.

Blah...I'm too lazy to go change mine...go figure.

When Mindsigh woke up this morning, she was still dreaming, and, as it was a good dream, much better than her waking life, she promptly rolled back over and closed her eyes and finished it. Never mind that she had responsibilities and obligations galore to occupy her time. The dream's story thread must be at least temporarily bound off before her mind could turn to the thousands of unmet needs of the others in her life.

She creakily crept from her bed and surrepetitiously showered in darkness, then put the kettle on and tried to quietly feed the dogs--no easy feat, since their eager, hungry tail wagging sounded like hammers pounding on the kitchen cabinets and their claws were a hailstorm on the tile floor. But as long as nobody else was up, she could still have her alone time before her family inflicted itself upon her. She switched on the fluorescent over the sink and the last few roaches scurried for cover.

"You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here," she thought to herself. "Bar-flies and bar-roaches. Can't believe that 20 years ago I was one of them--a bar-roach blinking in the fluorescence of closing time. Even worse, I can't believe I actually miss those days."

She shrugged, poured herself a delightful first cup of coffee and switched on the TV for the 4:30 a. m. news. The traffic cam showed a section of the freeway near her house. She found the traffic report amusing. The eastbound lane always looked like it was going backwards since the fuzzy black and white video caused tail lights and headlights to look the same.



(darn--this isn't half bad--for me, at least. Why can I only seem to write like this when I'm suicidal? And why can't I keep it up for more than a few paragraphs? The whole rip tide of story comes crashing onto me, dragging me away in the undertow and I can't keep up, so I quit. And it's not much of a parody. It's a pretty accurate description of my mornings.)

So one day, some guy in one of my classes named Anonymous Anonymous was preparing a presentation that he was set to do class after next. I found him in the courtyard right outside the building where our class is hopping up and down next to a tree, not realizing that another person from the class, a seemingly unfriendly, but cute redhead who I never asked for her name, was filming him on her camera-phone. I go up to AA, talk to him, point out the redhead to him and we both run.

"What was with the hopping up & down for?"

"Practicing my presentation." said he.

"But why were you hopping up & down for?"

"Trying to relax."

"Well, Anonymous, when you give your presentation, pretend no one is in the classroom and you're speaking to empty chairs."

"But dude, I all of a sudden may go way off-topic when I give my presentation. Did you ever see that clip on You-Tube of the Republican Convention and the empty chair?"

"Yeah Anonymous, just like everyone else I did. How does this sound? Pretend no one in the class speaks English."

"I'll probably sound like everyone, professor included, in the class is stupid and as if I'm crazy."

"No you won't. All you need to do is something that relaxes you."

"Like what?"

"What do you like to do?"

So, Anonymous Anonymous and I left campus and saw a movie after we had a bite to eat at a nearby cafe. Just to be clear, I myself sometimes have problems speaking in front of others, even my own family! I told Anonymous, as we were on our way back to campus for our other classes. When I walked into the library to check my school email, a mysterious email I found in my inbox. It turns out it was a video of Anonymous hopping up & down by that tree, video taken by that snobbish redhead from the class. She left a message for me that read; "I didn't know you're such a great guy. But why talk to him? There's something about him we don't know." I saw her at the computer in front of me, quickly wrote a note to her, logged off, and left the library.

One day a man in a corduroy jacket, blue jeans, and a backwards bomber cap strolled down the road listening to Swedish power metal music. Unaware of it, a lady in a red sweater was stalking him. All around the subdivision she kept up with him and followed him like he stole her car keys and knitting needles. The first time he saw her he just kept on walking, and thought nothing of it. When he saw her again he said to himself "Why is a 40 year old woman following me? She must just be walking to a friends house." When he got home his brothers told him they were following him themselves and that a lady in a red sweater from NEXT-DOOR was stalking him. "Next door?" he thought. "WTH? I know her husband!"

There was this girl called Jess, and one day, she went online to find her online friend on some other site had actually gotten thee early for once. So she asked him why, but he didn't reply. She then asked again and again and started crying in real life. Then he showed up and tole Jess what he was doing, which was what she'd suspected from what she'd seen him say before she got there. Then she revealed that she wanted to get into the thing he was into, even if it wasvery late full of scary stuff and would take her AGES to catch up with. She decided to try it when she felt ready.

As the onechordbassist awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed into a, well, not-so-gigantic... slug. He was lying on his soft, as it were all covered in mucus, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his flat greyish bellyfoot waving and waving on top of which the bed kept sticking and he couldn't remove it since he hadn't got any arms. Since he also hadn't got any more legs he couldn't even tell they were pitifully thin; however his ridiculously gooy bellyfoot did wave in a rather helpless way.

Then he crawled out of the bed and was mauled by his dog's feet when she entered the room in order to get her walk outside.

I'm going to have a go at second person

So you've finally decided to get into somehting so many other people know about and will take you ages to catch up with. but you don't care anymore. You're enjoying yourself.

That is, until, while on the bus, instead of going to the stop you usually get off at, it turns the other way. You shout at the bus driver, who says it was diverted, but you had your music on so you couldn;t hear that and get off at the stop before.

You then begin shouting "HELP!" and then "I have Asperger's" to explain your panic, but no one helps and the bus doesn't stop until it gets to a bus stop. You then start crying as you get off and walk back the way you came. You try to phone your parents, but there's no signal, only making you cry more. As you finally get to the bus stop you wanted to go to to get the other bus you need, you STILL have no signal.

The bus you need comes, and even then, there's no signal. So you listen to HEAVY ROCK music all the way home.

When you get home, you tell you Mum about it and say sorry, and she just says these things happen. You thought she would be scared, but you wanted to phone her to help you instead of you aving to wait till you got home, which is what ended up happening.

One day Zoe was in a physics lesson with her friend Charles. Their physics teacher was a fat useless patronising lady who didn't even have a physics degree. Zoe started writing physics formulas out on her physics book, and helped Charles memorise the whole periodic table. Zoe then thought it was a good idea to correct the physics teacher as her notes were not very detailed and flawed, but the teacher didn't know any better so she argued back with very limited knowledge. Charles then joined in, and the teacher was thrashed so badly she felt insulted and made Zoe move to the back of the classroom. She didn't really care, and she shouted to Charles across the room anyway. The physics teacher was now known throughout the school as the teacher who knew even less than her 2 students in her class.

Based on a true story