After my career in extreme empathy fell rapidly apart – I still say using depressed puppies is unfair – I decided upon a new sport: Professional losing. I’ve been told by numerous people that I’m a professional loser, so I figured I must be a natural at the sport.
Turns out, I’m not. Or at least, not at first. See, thanks to extreme empathy, I got so into the “gotta win” mentality that I forgot what is truly important in life: Losing. After all, you can’t spell “life” without using an “l” and an “i,” which you also need to spell “losing.” I made that up myself. It’s so weird that nobody thought of it before me.
Winning at professional losing is really difficult, which is why the sport is so easy. If you succeed by not doing something really hard, then why bother not succeeding? By not succeeding, you succeed at not succeeding, which means you haven’t succeeded, even though you have. Or so I’m told.
At first, though, professional losing is challenging. For some reason, most people play a sport to win. If that isn’t backwards, I don’t know what is. But once you figure out the secret to professional losing, the sport becomes as easy as baking a mitten. What’s the secret, you may ask? Well, if I told you that, it wouldn’t be a secret. But, since I have to lose at keeping a secret, I’ll tell you: It’s all in the wrist. And how you use the fist that’s attached.
Until next time, this is Xavier Yes. Stay classical. Meanwhile, I’m going to investigate the scent of wool coming from my stove.