Conspiracy: Why did my mom stop paying my bills? By Eli Grasso
It was October 26th and the Libs were about to be thoroughly owned. My copy of Red Dead Redemption 2 finally arrived, and I was ready to start my multi-night all-nighter live stream to complete it. If I could play this game non-stop, then why are people whining about programmers for the game not being paid overtime? I’m not being paid to play this game non-stop, so why should some lousy programmers? This was when tragedy struck. My house went dark, all the power was out, this is something that a twenty-nine year old man, like me, can never be prepared for. Without power, how am I supposed to refrigerate my frozen meals? My Hot Pockets? My Pizza Rolls? My TGI Friday’s branded Loaded Potato Skins? But most importantly, without power, how am I supposed to game? I did what any sane man would do next, I called my mommy for help. I knew something was wrong when she didn’t pick up on the first ring, I knew something was terribly wrong when it took three calls before she finally answered. Before she had a chance to speak, I told her in a hurried panic that power in my house was out but before I had a chance to tell her about the importance of my all-night gaming sesh, she cut me off. This is where the unusual behavior began to become very apparent, she told me an exasperated tone that “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was done paying for your bills. It’s time for you to grow up. Even Grandma is done sending you money.” I was shell shocked, mortified, this couldn’t be my mother. She was the woman who always helped me pay for anything I needed that was over that coveted thirty dollar price point. These women, like all women, love me. Something wasn’t right. I tried to muster up the strength to call this mysterious woman out but all I could manage was a wimp “You’re lying to me”. This ghastly creature had the audacity to say to me “I’m not. Get a job. You disappoint everyone.” and promptly hung up. A disappointment? How many men out there can say they have a GED and work 10 hours a week at a local McDonalds? I knew I had two courses of action here, use the several hundred dollars I had have in my savings to pay some of these bills or prove that someone or something had taken hold of my sweet loving mother. We all know how ludicrous one of these sounds. So, I broke out the tack board and wrote down every single correspondence I had with my mother in the past month. This was when I first noticed a strange series of patterns in her text messages. She sent me lots of messages that featured suspicious recurring language like “This isn’t a joke anymore”, “You are disgrace to this family and I’m disappointed I’ve supported you for this long” and “I have canceled my credit card that you have been using for your Amazon purchases”. My mom loves comedy, she always enjoys when I send her clips from my favorite comedians shutting down “SJW feminists”! She always responds with “STOP SENDING ME THESE” which is sort for “Stop sending me these hysterical shut downs of those moron SJWs, I can’t stop laughing, I love you, here’s 50 more dollars to buy more microtransactions in your favorite mobile games”.
I thought to myself, could I have caused this in anyway? It’s hard to look at myself in the mirror and think I could have caused any harm to anyone. I’m a very good boy, maybe too good of a boy. I once made myself a can of cinnamon rolls and even offered one of the eight to my mom! Could I have unknowingly made my mother a target of someone jealous of our great mom and son relationship? Did my left wing nutjob uncle finally convince his sister that I was some sort of “ungrateful, selfish and incredibly misogynistic scum”? He always called me that at Thanksgiving and I really didn’t think it was fair. Is it because I always tell him he’s wrong when he posts feminist propaganda on Facebook? Is it because I gifted him a Men’s Rights Activist t-shirt and a several bottles of InfoWars Branded Brain Force Plus and Super Male Vitality? I was just trying to give my poor relative a chance to become a strong man like yours truly. I’m running out of time and it’s getting cold in my house. I need to find away to contact the authorities but my cell phone is no longer in service either. So I can’t even call an Uber to get me the police station to report my findings. So I’m going across my neighborhood and posting this handwritten exposé on people’s doors. Please let the masses now, alert my 67 followers, tweet it to Ben Shapiro, let everyone you can know I need my power back and I need my mom to pay for it.
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