palm_tree Yes, we would love to attend a timeshare presentation at Kona Resort in exchange for $150 cash and lunch. I mean it. Love.

Paul was worried. He had never endured a hard-sell for a timeshare before, had never selflessly signed up so as to get gifts he could then present to his loved ones. I got this boombox for you, Mom, and I didn’t just buy it, I suffered for it, because I love you like Jesus does. Greg and Annie, please accept this weekend in Catalina. I said no to a timeshare salesperson for a very long time in order to get it for you. I love you, Greg and Annie. Love!

“It’ll be fun!” I kept explaining to Paul. Doesn’t he understand about things being so awful that they become exquisite? That just like pure perfect rage excites the same part of the primitive brain as drugs or sex or candy, pure perfect loathing excites our adrenalin centers, and not only that but it would be a loathing shared between the two of us, and later we could laugh and cackle about it together? Doesn’t he know the joy of loving things you hate?

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