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*This is a borrowed title from Fadi Bitar, who retweeted one of my E-sarcasm posts with that title.

Anyway this post goes under that genre, Fake-speare/E-sarcasm.

I am not the author, my classmate Ruba Haj Hassan is, and I found it too funny not to include. Enjoy:

Yo Romeo, Where You At?

I have a dog. Its name is Dog. It eats bubbles. But that’s not what I wanna talk about. What I actually wanna do is tell you a little story. So there’s this dude named Romeo, right? And he’s totally in love with this super hot babe he met once, and he’s so miserable ‘cause he can’t be with her. This chick is like his reason for breathing and he’s completely head over heels for her. Can anybody guess her name…? For those of you who thought Juliet, we’re all making fun of you right now. All of us. We drew pictures and everything.  Because you’re wrong! (I’m looking at you third-year-English-major). I’m talking about Rosaline. I know it’s hard to believe, but you remember that whole “I’d totally drink poison if you faked your own death” stuff? Well turns out Juliet wasn’t the first one to fall for it. Apparently he saw this girl named Rosaline (who was coinkidinkily becoming a nun) and fell in love with her. And get this… the only reason he went to Juliet’s ball was because Rosaline was gonna be there. I swear… it’s like, in the book and everything.

So then as he’s brooding around in the ballroom and hating his life (seriously this guy is such a drama queen), he sees Juliet dancing with her friends and completely forgets about Rosaline. That’s when NYPD steps in and tells the two families to… oh, never mind; I was thinking of DiCaprio. Now I don’t know about you but when I’m in love with someone and I notice a good looking stranger from across the room, I instantly fall in love with that person instead. And it’s not just ‘cause the voices tell me to. See the way I see it there are two explanations: 1. Romeo is schizophrenic (in which case they should call him a witch and burn him at the stakes). And 2. The dude’s a playya! Which would be really cool yet very unlikely. So sadly I’m forced to resort to a new and much less interesting explanation. It’s obvious! He doesn’t care who he falls in love with as long as he falls in love with someone. He’s in love with love! (God I hope my English Professor reads this).

So I guess if you really think about it, it’s a damn good thing they both die in the end. Or else we would’ve had a really dumb story on our hands. I assume it would go something like this: Boy see girl. Boy marry girl. Boy eat banana. I know it’s disappointing, and a lot of you are probably clutching a Leo DiCaprio poster sobbing into a gallon of Baskin Robbins screaming “YOU LIE!” at the newspaper. To you I say: there, there. And don’t scream at newspapers. Hobos scream at newspapers. I guess in a way this is a good thing. I mean sure you’ll watch Titanic a couple hundred times and blubber Shakespeare into the mirror for the next few days, but at least you’ll know the truth. You’ll finally free your heart of all that stereotypical “perfect love” doo doo. Be free, my heart! I release you into the wild! Go, run!

When it comes to love the best advice I can give you is this: Don’t do anything Hilary Duff wouldn’t do. And all that Shakespeare eternal love bubkis is; well, just that. So let’s all try and set our standards a little lower from now on. Unless you happen to have Leo’s number… in which case I would like you to know that I own exclusive limited edition Barney the Dinosaur concert memorabilia (postage and packaging free!). Well kiddies, it’s that time again. So remember; two wrongs don’t make a right, but two Wrights made a plane. See you on the other side folks.

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