I saw this flier on a mailbox in Manhattan yesterday:

This is me talking to the Cheer New York dudes:

“Hey, Cheer New York. Who are you guys? No, what I mean is, what are you cheering for? Are you just rooting for New York City? Like, in general? Because, I mean, that’s great. I love the enthusiasm. But you know guys, New York City was doing just fine before you decided to start cheering for it. In fact, we already had t-shirts made.

Why are you looking at me like that, Highkick?

You’re making me nervous. Stop it.

I feel like I’m missing something. Does the word “cheer” have some other connotation I’m not familiar with? Is that code for something? Did you think I wanted to be cheered for? Or cheered on? Because no. Definitely not.

What does that mean? I’ve never cheered in my life. Seriously, I haven’t! And I’m certainly not, like, a cheerleader.

No no no no. Now you’re misunderstanding me. I’m not making any judgments. You guys do what you want. I fully support the right to cheer. In my opinion, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with two (or more) consenting adults cheering for/on/in each other in the privacy of their own homes. Personally, I just don’t cheer. To be honest, I hardly show much exuberance for anything. But that’s just how I was born. I’m not saying you shouldn’t cheer. I’m saying that when you do cheer, cheer safely. You don’t want to live the rest of your life regretting one crazy night of thoughtless irresponsible cheering.”

Good luck, Cheer New York. One day soon all of New York will be cheering for you. (No homo.)