Please note: if you are of a superior race and are an impeccable human being, the following post will be highly irrelevant to you. Do kindly bugger off.
Now, I know that everyone has faults. No one is perfect, our flaws make us beautiful etc. BLAH. I know. Everyone has those days where they are disgruntled and unsatisfied with a myriad of aspects in their physicality. Said aspects may be prominent and/or trivial and will vary between individuals. Aspects also may include size of gut, buttocks, breasts, colour of nipples, thickness in hair, etc. Thankfully, my good friends the leading scientists of the past two centuries have completed top research on DNA so now unlike our predecessors, we now have a person/s to blame. Our parents.
Those hedgehogs of eyebrows? Totally your parents' fault. Your flat arse that lacks the fabulous bell curve of a ghetto booty? 'Twas the gene carriers that passed it on to you. Your discoloured minuscule toenail? Absolutely due to your parents and their bastardly DNA. Those fuckers. They will be forever indebted for establishing that I shall never marry my true love Ryan Gosling.
Oh I hear the outraged cries of all mummies and daddies. IT'S YOUR FAULT THAT YOUR OFFSPRING ARE SCREWED UP. Sure, you can tell me that my large calf muscles are attractive, if only for your sake, but that doesn't change anything. I still have fat calves and it sucks. You enforced this on me the moment your package met someone else's.
The irony in this is that I could possibly get over this if this DNA shit was limited to only my visual facets. Sure, I'd still be horrifically average looking, but it would be plausible for me to pass through this life fluently. Instead, I have the potential to become a mute with close to no hearing, seeing or joke telling abilities in the forthcoming years. AND I'll look like an older version of myself. AND I'll have to somehow force myself to interact civilly with individuals with godlike genes such as Helen Mirren and Charlize Theron look alikes. In fact, if ever I were to somehow hold a lad and he were to meet my parentals and say "I see where Sarah gets her good looks from", I'd probably burst into tears.
I guess that I did inherit a couple of likeable things from M & D. Like my intelligence, wit and wicked sense of humour. Yet I am not finding many things that I am able to list here.
My parents have messed me up for life. Please don't misunderstand what I am telling you, I do love them dearly, especially since they gave me the gift of living in the first place. Yes, life is excellent. It is even more excellent though, when you are destined to drown in the gene pool. So until technology enables me to become Jesus and walk on it with the budget of a homeless person, I shall have to live it up with the mere genes that I have been given. YOLO.