bestTrending Topics
Joke Types
0
0
You know what's worse than not getting a medal? Getting a medal for something you didn't even want to do. I recently got a medal for participation, and I have to say, I felt like I was being rewarded for my exceptional ability to exist. I'm there, standing on the podium, trying to look humble, but in my head, I'm thinking, "What am I supposed to do with this? Hang it on my wall? Wear it to job interviews?" I imagine going to a date and saying, "Oh, this old thing? Just a medal for breathing. No big deal."
And what's with the term "participation medal"? It's like saying, "Congratulations! You were there!" I didn't sign up for this thinking, "I hope they give me a shiny reminder of my average effort." I wanted the gold, the silver, or at least the bronze. But no, I get the "Thanks for showing up" award.
Now I'm contemplating starting a support group for people with participation medals – we can gather, share our stories of mediocrity, and maybe trade our participation medals for something useful, like a gift card or a decent cup of coffee.
0
0
I think we need a support group for people addicted to receiving medals. I call it "Medals Anonymous." We'd sit in a circle and confess our medal-related sins. "Hi, I'm John, and I have a medal problem."
"Hi, John!"
"I got a medal for finishing a puzzle last week. It was a 100-piece puzzle, but still, I felt accomplished. Now I'm eyeing my neighbor's garden gnomes, thinking they deserve medals for standing in the same spot for years."
It's getting out of hand. People are competing in weird categories just to get medals. I heard there's a medal for the best homemade sandwich. Are we really at a point where making a sandwich is an achievement worth commemorating?
So, let's band together, fellow medal enthusiasts, and admit that maybe, just maybe, not everything we do deserves a medal. Except for making it through this support group meeting – you guys definitely get a medal for that.
0
0
I've recently decided to start a new diet trend – the Medal Diet. You know, wear a medal around your neck, and every time you think about reaching for that extra slice of pizza, the medal judges you. I mean, who needs a personal trainer when you have a medal telling you, "Do you really need that cookie? Remember, I'm watching." It's the ultimate guilt trip accessory. But let me warn you, it's not all sunshine and rainbows.
I wore my medal to a buffet, thinking it would keep me in check. Turns out, the medal doesn't discriminate. It just sees food and says, "Bad idea." Now I'm stuck in a buffet with a medal whispering sweet guilt into my ear. I finally had to sneak out, leaving my medal at the dessert table, muttering, "You guard the chocolate fountain, I'm outta here."
But seriously, the Medal Diet has potential. Forget counting calories; let the medal count your regrets.
0
0
You ever notice how getting a medal feels like winning at life for a moment? I recently got a medal, and let me tell you, I thought I was invincible. I wore it to the grocery store, to bed, I even considered wearing it in the shower – you know, to make sure the soap knew who's boss. But here's the thing about medals: they don't come with a manual. So, there I am, strutting around like a superhero, and people are giving me weird looks. I thought they were just jealous of my newfound glory, but turns out, I was wearing it upside down the entire time.
I'm thinking, how did I mess this up? It's a medal, not a Rubik's Cube! Now I'm worried I accidentally joined some secret society and signaled my allegiance to who knows what. Do I get invited to a clandestine meeting, or is there a secret handshake I missed?
I finally figured it out, fixed the medal, and strutted away like nothing happened. But now I'm paranoid. Every time I see someone wearing a medal, I give them a knowing nod – like, "I get it, it's trickier than it looks." It's become a secret society of people who've struggled with the orientation of their accolades.
Post a Comment