…be numbered 19?
I hate the number 19. It is the stupidest number imaginable.
19 is not fit to sit in 20’s shoes, let alone 16, 18 or 21. 22 (another dorky number) may pretend to be 19’s friend, but 22 is like 33, they don’t cave in to peer pressure. (I’ve never seen 22 & 33 hanging out with 19 at the mall together – wonder why that is exactly?) And as for 17 and 23…oh man, do not even go there. 17 & 23 are beyond legend.
19 may be odd and prime, but so is 41, and who’s ever heard of 41? (Okay, I do feel bad for 41, living in the shadow of its famous next-door neighbor. But I don’t hear 43 complaining, do you?) 19 – nineteen – do you spell it in letters or numbers? So bloody awkward. Has anyone ever wished to be 19 again? Of course not. Why would they?
There are 3 wise men, 7 deadly sins, 12 days of Christmas, 13 in a baker’s dozen, 16 Tons, 24 Hours, 31 Flavors, 64 squares on a chessboard, 99 bottles of beer on the wall, and even 101 Dalmatians. Now, fill in the blank: 19 _____. Go ahead, I dare ya. Can’t do it, can ya? I rest my case!
So now, the CA initiative to legalize marijuana will make 19 a historic number. I’m sorry, but I just can’t see myself lighting up a big fat bowl and saying, “Here’s to 420, 215 and…19!” Uh-uh, ain’t gonna happen. I’m tempted to vote against Prop 19 just so we’ll get a better number next time. Who’s with me on this?