How are these verb conjugations of “nosotros” not more fun for me? Look at the dude in this book: He’s driving a 1994 Camaro, and his cabello is blowing in the viento. Why is this not me? “¿Porque no me llama Fernando?”
Fernando’s girlfriend is dressed in attire that I can only assume was popular in early 1996. She has a broad smile on her face, and she’s sipping a tall glass of diet coke with ice.
I study hard. I pay my taxes. I shared my bedroom with my brother until my last year of high school. I didn’t smoke weed until I was 18. Why does Fernando’s girlfriend Marie get to have a chill time in a Camaro while I’m forced to sit here and look at that smug grin on her face? She knows I’m not going to pass this class. Dude, she knows. Screw you, Marie. I love you, Marie.
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