
Rummaging around on Tumblr, prospecting for pictures of cute mens,

when I stumbled on a bunch of posts about how your enemy is born 53 days after your birthday. Even for the internet, that seems odd, both the mathematical precision and the outcome. My enemy? Like I’m a superhero with a sworn nemesis? But I’m always willing to play along with whatever unlikely pronouncement the world wide web drops in my lap, so I dutifully counted up 53 days from my burfday (April 5 in case you need to start shopping now) and then looked up who was born on May 28. Turns out my list of potential enemies is pretty drab. Dammit.
The likeliest suspect would be Rudy Giuliani, but I wouldn’t really think of him as an enemy, more as just someone I think is an idiot. The only other name from that day that popped out at me was Kylie Minogue. Kylie! How could that Australian pixie be anyone’s enemy? That’s like taking a firm stance against kittens. No thanks.
In the midst of flailing around to figure out what my birthday plus 53 equals, I accidentally found out that April 5 is 53 days from February 11, coincidentally, the date I blundered into this diabolical plot. It was like some kind of insipid Twilight Zone episode. So apparently I am the enemy of somebody born yesterday. The list of possible victims was even less impressive than my enemies. February 11 is the birthday to a really tragic gang of forgettable actors and musicians and completely random “celebrities.” Jennifer Aniston and Natalie Dormer were the brightest lights and could there be a more innocuous duo? Being Jennifer Aniston’s enemy seems like it would be more trouble than it’s worth. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this whole enemy gig.
This whole Find Your Enemy is simply another kind of horoscope. Whenever some writer assigns a random block of the population a bunch of personality traits or quirks (Adult Children of Alcoholics; Your Sun Sign Picks New Hats for You; Were Your Parents Emotionally Abusive?; Sourdough Recipes for Burnt Out Baby Boomers; New Careers for Cannibals) they’re just repackaging what charlatans have been passing off as divination forever. You figure out which slice of the chart you fit into and then look up the banal idiosyncrasies they pair you with and you gasp at how insightful it all is. I know that sounds skeptical, but that’s just how we Aries roll.
Still, you’d best believe I will keep a watchful eye out for whatever shenanigans Miss Minogue might try to pull on me. She’s tiny, but I hear she’s wiry.
Guys I really hope are not my enemy

Some men just know how to fill out a thermal shirt

And some guys know how to fill out a pair of handcuffs.

That is exactly the red paint I’ve been looking for for years.

Meaty, big, and bouncy.

These boots are made for walkin’/ and that’s just what they’ll do
What nonsense the internet doth throw up! By this calculation, my sworn enemies might be Keanu Reeves or Salma Hayek, neither of whom would exactly cause me to lose sleep.
But I digress. Must go – I have a skateboard(er) to catch! Jx
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I agree that Keanu would be no real problem as an enemy, unless he were able to channel some John Wick badassness
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The gentleman with the skateboard- I can’t even fathom going through life having that face, body & cock. Such a responsibility!
I don’t really have any fascinating enemies. Kobe Bryant & River Phoenix aren’t really going to get very far. The only one that’s interesting is Trixie Mattel. One of many names I was called as a wee thing was Matty Mattel (emphasis on the Sister Belle part) so maybe she’s been sent to get me.
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Wait, Jon (above) got Keanu Reeves and you got River Phoenix. Dude, total Twilight Zone vibes here.
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Send me the link to “Your Sun Sign Picks New Hats for You!” My toque just isn’t cutting it.
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I got one word for you, baby: Turbans.
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Oh good grief. You might as well try foretelling your future by multiplying your shoe size by warp factor 4, adding 33-1/3 rpm, subtracting the atomic number of kryptonite, and dividing by the square root of Prince’s 1999.
Still, the man with the pool cue has nice butt chops.
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In case you’d like to start a fan club, Mr. Pool Cue’s names is dmitry averyanov.
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(a) My enemies are Shane Dawson, Jared Padalecki, Benedict Cumberbatch Chris Kratt, Brian May and a bunch of people I’ve never heard of before looking.
(b) That’s quite an impressive sausage display today, especially Mr. Skateboard and Mr. Handcuffs. I think I need some “alone time” now.
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hmmm, Benedict Cumberbatch is the only name I recognize, and that is a pretty pussy enemy. I’d sleep easy if I were you.
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Shane Dawson is a YouTube guy, Jared Padalecki played Sam in “Supernatural”, Chris Kratt was a PBS nature show (for kids) guy, and Brian May is a member of Queen.
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Enemies? Hmmm… (peruses Wikipedia) Francesca Annis? No. Martine McCutcheon? No. Mark Zuckerberg? Absolutely. Yes!
And who might think that I’m their enemy? Joey Fatone? He wishes. Elijah Wood? For those lascivious thoughts I had about him? Possibly…
P.S. Hasn’t that meaty pool player got a lovely, long neck!
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He has a neck?
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This disturbs me mightily, for I missed being your enemy by one day!
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WHAT? That’s eerie. This whole business is too Twilight Zone for me. That also means that R Man’s father was your enemy. Congratulations.
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I went out to the wheelie bin late last night and I heard rustling coming from the bushes opposite, when I parted the branches I saw it was English actress Caroline Quentin and American rapper Lil Kim with blood lust in their eyes, they were coming to do me in.
Grace Jones should watch her back too.
More disturbingly my maid of all work Carmen missed out on being my enemy by 1 day too.
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