Thursday, June 4, 2009

The Ultraviolet Catastrophe

I'm going to start today by urging everyone to call Igor the UVC when they see him. This, of course, referring to the prediction in the late 19th century that an ideal black body would emit radiation at infinite power. This has nothing to do with Igor. However, his violet coloured v-neck sweater actually did emit radiant and flamboyant characteristics for the world to see. He also brought the sweater back from the dead and showed all the women of planet Earth that a lack of cleavage shouldn't stop you from showing it off.

Igor content has lowered lately so I'll try and discuss his perpetual defense of his materialistic goods. Igor is clearly defined by his possessions, we have already defined this many posts ago. Consequently, insulting his possessions renders feelings of inadequacy and angst. There are a few examples over the week, but they're absolutely delicious. I strongly recommend that anyone who sees him on a daily basis insult something that he owns - simply to watch the transformation from Igor to Angry Uptight Bitch Igor (the phrase Uptight Bitch was actually coined by a co-worker of his, but it seemed too accurate to pass up). The interesting part about his defense is that it cumulates the worst aspects of him into a single dialogue. Take this example:

Person1: Igor, your phone sucks, it can barely get reception in here.
Igor: Uhhh, no it doesn't (in a really flamboyantly angry tone)! My phone has an amazingly sensitive resistive touchscreen with a HVGA display, a 3.2mp camera, and you can't buy it in Canada, therefore, I'm more unique than you and that's why Emma is going to give me a blow job one day after I cook her dinner for the 900th time.
Person1: That's fine and dandy Igor, but it doesn't actually work, you have no signal.
Igor: It actually doesn't matter, 8.53% of people in Hong Kong don't actually use their cell phones to make calls anymore.
Person1: Right.
Igor: I love myself, I'm going to go masterbate in front of my full size mirror that I bought at Canadian Tire for $9.99 on sale because of the 10% discount I got on that day.

Just to get the message across, here's an example of a conversation I had with him last night:

Igor: Uhhh, your car is such a commoner car, you're such a generic person.
Batman: Yes, because I bought it myself, my parents in Hong Kong didn't lease it for me so that I could look cool in front of the Asian Girl Crew and be accepted.

At this point, Igor is starting to lose it, calling him out on the rich little brat that he is brings out the Uptight Bitch Complex, the UBC for short:

Igor: Uhhh, yeah, well, my car has heated seats and a really torquey 5 cylinder engine, and its made in Germany. I WIN.

He also says I WIN a lot like life is a freakin first-person-shooter video game or something. The irony here is that his hand-eye coordination is far too lacking to even be good at them.

Batman: Cool, but I don't see how that's relevant, you're still a spoiled uptight bitch wearing a v-neck violet sweater...

At this point, I decide to go all out on his car, there's no turning back, good bye Igor, here comes UBC.

Batman: Actually Igor, your car has a sagging headliner, a broken vent, a broken trunk latch, and a fuel line that clanks around because its loose. It might as well have been made in Mexico because your German engineered overpriced piece of crap has required 3 times more repairs than my commoner car and it makes you look like a Euro poseur. Furthermore, you spend more at the pump than me for far less mileage, you pay more insurance than I do, and you spend close to $100 to get an oil change at the dealership, princess.

Igor: (Fuming)... Yeah... Well... You drive a Civic! AHHHHH!!!! AARRRRRRRGH!!!!!!!...

Igor: I like my car, I like how its different, and I like how poor people can't afford it. So whatever.

Batman: But plenty of people have Rabbits? Why are you different?

Igor: I have nothing to say *stomps into room and shuts door*.

This example illustrates his love for his possessions better than ever. The best part about all of this is, he was brought up and raised to be an excellent gold digging trophy wife. He knows how to pretend to be cultured, he knows brands like no tomorrow, and he knows how to spend other people's money. All he's missing is the aforementioned cleavage and a face that doesn't require a paper bag in the bedroom.


  1. I dont think they make paper bags that big...

  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

  3. Well, that's why we have garbage bags. Though he'd probably need heavy duty ones. Maybe he can order some designer garbage bags from his motherland.