We Can All Seem Successful If We're Creative Enough!

*This is going to sound so great when she produces it onto a CD from her laptop!

I took a class a while back and at the beginning of the class the instructor said, “Welcome everyone. As an ice breaker I want to go around the room and have everyone tell us something interesting about themselves.” The introductions began pretty standard. Then this girl stood up and said, “I’m Amy and I’m a singer and a producer.”

Me (in my head) “No you’re not Amy”

Really Amy, what exactly makes you a singer and a producer? Because your friend heard you singing one time and was like, “Oh my God Amy, you’re soooo talented, you should like totally be on American Idol!” So you went home and recorded yourself singing on your computer and then burned, I mean “produced” a CD of yourself singing? I can almost guarantee based on the fact that you just bragged to a room full of strangers that you’re a producer, that you’re a pretty terrible singer. I can record myself farting into a microphone and then burn it. Am I a producer?!

You know it really bothers me when people do something mediocre and because they are so insecure, they inflate the title of what they do to make it sound more important. I mean, I can crap into a pan and call myself a “baker” but when I offer someone one of my “brownies”, I bet they say it tastes like shit.

It's Science

If you’re at a dinner party or a formal event, and you don’t know many people, and you’re not very confident in the topic of conversation, you have two choices. You can either sit idly by and occasionally nod in agreement, or you can do what I do. I like to join in the conversation and say things that I’ve made up that sound like they could be true, but while I’m talking I look around the table to gage how convincing I’m being. If even one person at the table begins to look pessimistic as to the origin of my facts, I just add, as a suffix to my statement, “studies show”. This is typically enough to dissuade the individual attempting to expose me as a fraud.  If all goes according to plan, you are now the most intelligent person at the table.

Could You Clarify? How Bad Are We Talking Exactly?

*I'll think I'll pass

I don’t like the way that people just blindly use terms that don’t really make any sense. “Not half bad” is a good example. When someone tells me that something is “not half bad”, I tend to be cautious.  Because even if something is 49% bad, I probably don't want it.  And God forbid I find out it's full bad!  That’s MUCH worse!

Well Aren't YOU Unique?!

It bother me when someone proclaims to hate something that no one likes to do, as if they’re special or something.

“Oh, I hate ironing!”

“Really? Because I love ironing! I love it so much that when I'm not doing it, I'm thinking about when the next time will be that I'll have the pleasure of ironing a big pile of wrinkly clothes.  The anticipation is almost too much!  I love being inconvenienced and forced into doing something I’m not good at only to have to do it and end up with sub par results! I LOVE it! I can’t believe you don’t like it. You must be very special! You’re definitely one of the most interesting people I’ve met in a long time.”

There are some people who don’t mind ironing, but given the choice of either ironing, or not ironing, I’m pretty certain that no one would voluntarily iron if they didn’t have to. No one has ever walked into a room with a big pile of wrinkled pants and been like, “SCORE!!! Ironing time for me bitches!!! No ironing for you, just for me!! Oh you want to iron? Well you can’t because I’m going to do all of it!”

Obviously!

I get very insulted when someone starts off a sentence with, “Obviously”.

Them: “Obviously the rib cage in humans is connected to the thoracic vertebrae of the spinal column.”

Me: “OK. You're not allowed to talk to me anymore."

Come to see me!

I’ve always thought that it would be really confusing if you lived in a town that was located next to a town called “Seeme”. Because whenever you were talking to your friends and family and said, “Hey, you should come to see me!” they would get really, really confused, think that you had moved and then end up in the wrong town.

*This is such a stupid joke, but for some reason I always laugh when I read it!

Step Aside Mom, This Is Between Me and the Kid

*This baby clearly wants a hug.

I was walking in the mall the other day and from a distance I saw a mom pushing a baby in a stroller, and the baby was wearing a bib that said “I love hugs”. And I thought, “how cute is that?!” So as I approached them I thought to myself, “who am I to deprive this child of something he so clearly loves?” So I picked up the little tyke and gave him an affectionate squeeze…and… his mom got SO pissed at me!!  She started screaming for the police and causing a big scene!  I know what you’re thinking, I was thinking the same thing, what a fucking bitch!

You Better Not Be Lying To Me!

I went to a department store the other day and I bought some wrinkle free pants because I can’t iron. They were a little more expensive than the pants I normally buy but if they are indeed wrinkle free as promised, they will be well worth the added expense. When I was paying for my new pants I asked the pimpled faced kid at the register if the pants were indeed wrinkle free. He assured me in a sarcastic way that, “that’s what the label says”. So I told him that if I ever found one wrinkle in those pants I was going to come back to that store and strangle him with them.

Take That, You Just Got JAPANNED!!!!

"Oh my God!, we're getting Japanned!!!!"

I wrote "JCPenney" in a word document one time and when I was running spell check, it suggested that perhaps I was attempting to write “Japanned”. What? Is that even a word? Is that what happened at Pearl Harbor or something?  Is getting “Japanned” like getting “Punk’d” only way, way worse where planes fly over you and drop bombs on your unsuspecting ships?  I don’t know, but either way I wasn’t trying to get involved with some historical reference, I was talking about the department store. Thanks for nothing Microsoft Word spell check!!!

A Tall Order of Responsibility!

Every once in a while I feel like complaining about my job.  But then I think about being a pet store manager.  I mean, every job has its pluses and minuses but at least I'll never have to worry about coming into work and having to deal with a bunch of dead bunnies.

Don't Even Bother Trying To Stop It...It's Gonna Happen

*Those camo shorts aren't going to save you pal...There's going to be piss on your feet soon!

If you're a man, and you recently drank a large coffee or a thimble of Mountain Dew, it's inevitable that you will eventually have to piss.  And later when that pissing becomes a necessity, if you direct that piss into a urinal and you happen to be wearing flip flops, it doesn't matter how you try to stand, or where you aim, some of that piss is going to end up on your feet.

It's Like A (Poorly Managed) Zoo In Here!

* These Zebras are totally chilled out.

Let's talk about the saying, "It's like a zoo in here!"  I don't know about that saying.  Because I've been to a few zoos in my day, and most of them that I've been to have been pretty mellow.  A Best Buy on the Friday after Thanksgiving, "Black Friday" (which I find somehow racist) is nothing like any of the zoos that I've been to.  If, however, there is a zoo somewhere in the world that is so out of control that it resembles a retail electronics chain selling HD plasma TV's for 50% off, maybe it's time to rethink the management structure at that zoo.  Because it's clearly being pretty poorly managed.

Oh Genny, you're dumb.

A buddy of mine was dating this girl a while ago who was stupid as shit. I say “was” because they don’t date any more, but I’m certain wherever she is today, she’s still a moron. I know what you may be thinking, “that’s not a nice thing to say about her”. But don’t worry, it’s ok to call her stupid, because she was a fucking bitch! For this story and the sake of her anonymity I’ll refer to her as Genny so as not to out her as a dumb-ass.

One day I was out with my buddy and Genny and a couple other female friends of ours and Genny started going on and on about her new phone to the other girls, about how much she loved it and how “cool” it was and how it was so much fun to use. It’s somewhat hard to explain the severity of how annoying it was in the written word, but imagine the biggest idiot you can, talking pretty much as loud as humanly possibly in a stereotypical Valley Girl voice. Genny’s going on and on like,

“Oh my God, I LOVE my new phone, it’s so cool and fun and I love texting with the touch screen keyboard! I can text like, ten times faster than I could with my old phone!” (Which made me feel bad for the people she was texting because it meant that she was able to annoy the shit out of them ten times faster than before.) So as we walked, Genny continued to go on and on about how she capital L.O.V.E.D. her new phone!

I decided that I would take my aggression our indirectly on Genny and see just how stupid she actually was in the meantime. A few days later when I was over at the same friend’s house, Genny came by. When she left the room to use the bathroom (most likely to take a giant dump) I grabbed Genny’s phone and added my phone number as one of her contacts. But instead of my name, I put in “Your New Phone” as the contact name. When Genny returned from the bathroom, I excused myself, pretending I had to make a phone call, and went to the next room positioning myself where I still had a view of Genny’s. From here, I texted her new phone.

“Dear Genny, I fucking hate you!” Which, on her phone’s screen read, “Dear Genny, I fucking hate you!” From: Your New Phone.

A few seconds later Genny saw the text. It took a few seconds to sink in that perhaps her phone wasn’t quite as fond of her as she was of it, and she began to cry. And I laughed and laughed and laughed.

It's "Garbage Man"...Deal With It!

I don’t really get the term “trash collector”. I guess it’s an attempt to class up the term “garbage man” kind of the same way we often now refer to a “janitor” as a “custodian”. I guess because we don’t want to hurt people’s feelings? But guess what? A trash collector IS a garbage man. It’s not mean, it’s just more accurate. He’s a man who picks up garbage. Calling him a “collector” is just confusing and misleading. A collection is something to be coveted. A bill collector collects bills, or more accurately the money which is owed to pay bills. That’s something valuable. A stamp collector is interested in collecting stamps for their potential value and more often their historical significance, something of intrinsic value to them. But a “trash collector”? What is this guy doing, taking all the garbage home with him and organizing it with the other garbage?

“Ok, the diapers go here by the used coffee filters, and the dirty underwear goes over there next to the banana peels! Good now everything’s in order! What a great collection!”

I can’t imagine this monologue actually taking place. And if it does, I’m certain we’ve got a seriously mentally ill person on our hands and maybe we shouldn’t be trusting them with our garbage in the first place.

In Hindsight, Not Such a Great Idea...

*This might have helped

About 2 years ago I wrote a whimsical “How-To” book called Cooking Pasta in the Nude. About a week later I wrote a second book, First Aid for Scalded Genitals. It was more instructional and less light hearted than the first book. It was written 100% based on experience.

Wait...What?

I love intentionally confusing people.  I don't really know why.  I guess it's because the reaction is usually pretty priceless. For the most part a person goes through their whole day with a relative sense of normalcy. So when something odd happens, it often shakes up their day in a way that makes it somewhat memorable. This is my public service to the general population. Feel free to use this.

This scenario works best with someone you don’t know at a location where you’re not committed to staying for an extended period of time. Try a public bus stop for example. A lot of people read newspapers at bus stops, not because they’re interested in the news, but because they absolutely despise interaction with other human beings, and said human beings are somewhat reluctant to disturb a stranger who is busy. But not you! Go up to this person reading their newspaper and ask them what the article they are reading is about. Unless this person is a fucking asshole, they should at least be courteous enough to give you a one sentence synopsis. After this information is exchanged, this is where you confuse them with your puzzling response (to follow).

This response also works in an office environment, most successfully at a general gathering venue like the clichéd water cooler, or some other location where people tend to congregate for short periods of time and there is plenty of room for escape without explanation (this works in any office environment but is most effective in a large office setting where you don’t know everyone on a personal level). In this scenario, you walk into a conversation already in progress. As most conversations in office water cooler environments are usually about current events, you should be set up nicely. Politely interrupt and ask the alpha of the group what topic they are discussing. When you’re informed, this is where you say the sure to be confusing line, and walk away. In both of these different scenarios, the line is certain to perplex the targets. It might not register right away, but eventually they will more than likely be scratching their heads. This final line of your conversation, before inexplicably turning and calmly walking away is… “Oh yeah, I saw that on the radio the other day”.

When you don't need a job, but could enjoy a good laugh.

There area a lot of ways to appear crazy. Here’s one of those ways: Go in for a job interview. (it’s important to make sure this is a job that you don’t want, because if you carry out this little exercise, you’re definitely not going to get it). At the point in the interview where it reaches a relatively casual atmosphere, the interviewer may ask you something along the lines of, “what do you enjoy doing in your spare time?” At this cue, you should respond, “I really enjoy reading Russian poetry”, a relatively obscure and intellectual response, to which the interviewer may more than likely respond, “Really? What makes you enjoy Russian poetry?” to which you respond, “Who said I like Russian poetry?” At this point, you sit there looking at them with a sense of confusion, insinuating that they’re crazy. This chapter of the scenario may warranty one of two responses. First, security may be called and you will be escorted out. Second, you may actually be successful in convincing the interviewer that they’re out of their mind. At this point, you can get up and walk out, disgusted that this person who is clearly crazy has wasted a good portion of your afternoon.

Get over here Sergeant Pickles!!!

I think it’s funny to see a really old, really little lady, walking a very small, very misbehaving dog. Because the dog is always trying to go somewhere that it’s not allowed, while the lady is always telling it not to and yelling at it like it’s a person. And while all this is happening, you know that the lady is completely in a world of her own, a world where her dog understands her but just chooses not to. This is what is making her so mad, not so much the misbehavior, but the blatant disobedience. In the story I make up in my mind, the dog’s name is always something fancy, like Mr. Sprinkles or Sergeant Pickles. This just helps make the situation even more amusing.