That's Appropriate Attire...Sort Of.

*Acceptable on a sliding scale based on location

How insane you look, when wearing certain articles of clothing, really all comes down to location. If you’re riding a bike and wearing a bike helmet and spandex, you’re good to go. I can’t promise that you won’t get made fun of for wearing spandex, but you’re at least in the appropriate environment for the outfit. The thing is that once you take that bike out of the equation, you look nuts.


“Hey look at that guy walking around with spandex and a bike helmet on. Where’s his bike? What a freak!”

But let us explore further. Let us say that that individual is now fully clad in spandex, helmet perched carefully upon his head and he is back on his bike…ok, seems normal. But put that person inside a grocery store!

“Whoa, whoa whoa? What the fuck are you doing inside a grocery store with your bike, a helmet and spandex on?”


“What the hell is that guy doing with his bike in grocery store? What a weirdo, why doesn’t he leave it outside!”

But here’s the catch, let’s say that scenario does develop, and our theoretical biker is now inside a grocery store with his bike outside and still in full spandex and a bike helmet. Some people may not realize he even owns a bike. Maybe he’s just a gentleman who likes to wear clothes that keep everything securely where it’s supposed to be. Maybe he’s recently lost a few pounds and is proud and wants to flaunt it? Who knows? But to the common observer, the fact that this guy is in a grocery store without a bike, wearing spandex is probably one of the odder things they’ve seen that day…and we still haven’t been able to explain the helmet…

The MAN!

I was at a store the other day and this woman walked by me who was all worked up about something that had happened with an employee at the front of the store. She was with her daughter who was probably 7 or 8 years old. As they walked by me the little girl looked up at her mom and said “Mommy, are you mad at me?” to which the mother replied, “Oh no, sweetie, I’m mad at the man”. I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn’t believe it. You’re telling me that “THE MAN” who everyone is always complaining about, “The man’s trying to keep me down” and “Damn the man” etc. etc., works at Target?

Game Show!

I have two ideas for gameshows that I'm going to create and produce.  They both have the same format, similar to Jeopardy where there are three contestants and they compete to get the most points by the end of the show to win cash and prizes.  The questions however, are not general trivia, but are based on your ability to tell what someone is doing just by looking at their face.  The first show's format is that a picture of someone's face that is flashed up on a screen, and the contestants must buzz in to answer the question, which also just so happens to be the name of the show, which is..."Shitting or Lifting Weights?"

The second show is the same format, but instead of a picture of just a face, it is a picture of an old guy laying on a park bench...That show is called..."Dead or Napping?"

A Tip For You Gentlemen...

Here's a tip for you my dude friends.  If you're trying to pick up a girl, this is not a good pick up line...

"Hey baby, you're looking kinda skinny, how'd you like me to make you pregnant?!"

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.

Here's a Story To Tell...You're Welcome!

If you’re a guy and you want to give another guy a story to tell their friends and families at parties and other social events for the rest of their lives, do this. Get on a major highway and stop at a rest stop. Go into a stall, sit down and wait. Keep in mind this must be done during the summertime. Before too long, another dude will come and sit in the stall right next to you. (Don’t choose an end stall, this cuts your chances of neighborhood in half.) When the gentleman sits, there is a 50% chance he will be wearing flip flops, sandals, or some form of open-toed footwear. Now’s your chance to make a lasting impression on his life. Lick your fingers and gently rub his toes. For added creepy effect, in your most seductive voice whisper loud enough for him to hear, “Nice”.  You'll want to make sure your stall door is locked.  There's a pretty good chance that the guy will try to kick your ass...

Want To See My Studio?

I was at a party recently and saw this really hot girl. We started chatting and I mentioned that I lived nearby in a studio apartment. She was like, “Oh my God, a studio?! Are you like, a musician or something?” I responded, “You’re not all that intelligent. I like you. Yes, I’m a musician, let’s get out of here.”

Delivery!

Male porn stars are really just like boner delivery men. For the most part, they walk into a room and are like, “did anyone order a boner? Oh you did? Well here it is!”

I Respect Your Work...Now Take Off Your Pants

I have a lot of respect for actors in the pornography industry because they don’t seem to have egos like traditional actors. I mean, Tom Cruise is a legitimate movie star, but every actor who plays a role in a movie isn’t considered a “star”. In the traditional movie business, there are tiers of stardom, "Lists", "A-List" "B-List" and so on; a hierarchy if you will.  But in adult film, they’re all pornSTARS, all equals, all just there to F the S out of each other. Now how can you possibly have an ego when you’re getting F’d in the A all day?

Why Does This Still Taste Like This?

People have walked on the moon.  Some people don't think that's true.  But let's face it.  Even if no one has ever walked on the moon, someone somewhere is smart enough to have been able to trick the majority of the world's population that someone has.  The MOON! That’s really far away. My brain can’t even fathom the level of intelligence one must have in order to figure out how to build a ship that can shoot up into the sky and drop a dude off on the moon. So that means that there are infinitely smart people on our earth. So with all that intelligence, you’re telling me we can’t figure out a way to make broccoli taste like a cheeseburger?  Really?!  Come on!

I Wish I Was Elsewhere

*What are you smiling about Whitney?  You made it worse!

When you're in a gym locker room and a 60 year old man walks in and sets up shop right next to you it's a little weird. When he proceeds to take off all of his clothes, it becomes even less appealing. But when he's standing there totally naked changing into his bathing suit and Whitney Houston's "I will always love you" comes on over the speakers, that's when it get's REALLY awkward!  Many of my posts are "What If's" and straight up lies.  This actually happened to me today.

Horse Lover

*THE TRUTH

Sometimes when I'm in the shower, I think of something I need to do.  So when I get out, sometimes I try to do that thing right away before I put my clothes on.  The only problem with this process is that there is a chance that in those moments careless unexpected tragedy could strike and I could die.  Then there would be questions.  Not so much questions of how I died or why, but why was I naked?  More than likely there would be some coincidental evidence of an animal's presence in my apartment, possibly some hair.  Don't worry how it got there. Then the media would report in a non-accusational manner that I may in some way have been involved in an underground bestiality ring when in reality the evening before I had had a romantic evening with a young lady, and hired a violinist to serenade us while we dined.  During the evening, the musician's passionate playing caused his bow to shred, leaving behind some horse hairs from said bow.  Then, with my family unable to prove the media incorrect, and no one to dispel the lies of my activities, my family, not wanting to lie, but in an attempt to maintain some dignity would have engraved on my tombstone:  "Our Beloved Son.  Apparently he loved animals".

Can You Hold This For Me?

I'm going to invent underwear with pockets.  Because I don't always wear pants, but I still need a place to put my stuff.

I Hope She Doesn't Crush Him!

There's nothing I like more than seeing a little scrawny redneck guy with a wicked fat redneck lady.  The guy is normally wearing old torn jeans and a dirty wife beater, although I question his ability to beat a woman with a 100 lb. weight advantage.  These sightings are most common at state fairs.  If and when you're treated to the privelage of such an event, take it all in because it's a special moment.  It's hilarious.  But sometimes, my mind wanders to the dark side and I imagine them having sex.  Then I throw up.  Then it's not quite as funny, but still pretty funny.

People Watching

One of my favorite pastimes is people watching. It’s so entertaining to sit on a bench on a crowded street or in a busy park and watch all different kinds of people from different backgrounds in their natural environment, when they aren’t aware they’re being watched and have released their inhibitions. Some people, however, quickly become aware of your presence and aren’t thrilled. That’s why, whenever I do some people watching, I bring a newspaper along. That way, when I’m staring at some guy on the street with a leather vest, cut-off jean shorts and a pony tail, and laughing and he says angrily, “what the fuck are you looking at?!” I can respond, “I’m just reading this newspaper, Garfield’s at it again! He sure does love lasagna”, and then run away.

Clean Out Your Desk!!!

If I’m ever fired in a hostile manner I hope to God that my boss yells at me, “Clean out your desk!” I will gladly clean out my desk. But I’m going to crap in the drawer.

Can I Have That Baby?

I want a baby by the time I’m 35. I’m not going to rush into a relationship with a girl though.  That's irresponsible.  So if I’m 35 and haven’t yet met “Miss Right”, hide your babies, because I’m going to steal one!

The Plan

I have a plan.  It goes like this. 

I want to go into a Walmart and buy a $50 gift card. I’ll most likely pay for it with travelers checks because I think travelers checks are stupid. Then I want to go out to my car and apply a fake, but very realistic looking mustache and go back in to the store with my recently purchased gift card and 40 nickels in my pocket. Then I want to go back to the same cashier that I purchased the gift card from just moments earlier and purchase a $52 gift card using my $50 gift card and my nickels. Then, as a final touch, I will return to my car, take off my fake mustache and eat an extremely messy and sticky brownie. Then I will return to the store, get a basket and fill it with approximately $52 worth of toothpaste, go to the same cashier and calmly pay for the toothpaste with my $52 gift card. This plan will be known as “Operation Confuse the Shit Out of the Walmart Cashier”.

I Need a New Car

If you drop your car keys in a porta-potty, just go ahead and plan on never driving that vehicle ever again.

That's Where I Draw the Line

I saw an American Heart Association billboard recently that said, “Please Give Generously”. The American Heart Association should be more clear in their advertising. Because I have no problem donating a few dollars to charity, but I’m not going to give you my heart. And I have a feeling that’s what they were getting at!

TODAY's News...

I think it’s condescending when you bring up a topic to someone and they say “that’s yesterday’s news!” Oh really? Because I just heard it, so I guess for me it’s today’s news, asshole!

Tell Her About It

If you see someone with something on their face, like a piece of food, or something stuck to their shoe, like an entire roll of toilet paper, it’s always awkward to tell them, especially if you don’t know them that well. But if you don’t say anything to them, you’re a dick. Because who knows when the next time they’ll look in the mirror?

A Terrible Way To Die

You know what’s absolutely terrifying? Being in a highway rest stop bathroom at 2AM, sitting down to take a shit, and hearing the sound of the door open and someone else walk in. I have never felt more rape prone in my life than at that moment.

Where Do I Look?

Sometimes you get into awkward social situations where you’re waiting for something with a stranger like in line at a bank or in an elevator. In these cases, you have to look somewhere, but more often than not there is nothing interesting to look at. Some people will try to read a brochure or appear to be interested in something on the floor or the ceiling in an attempt to seem occupied. Me? I just close my eyes.

That's Just Poor Marketing

Oldsmobile went defunct in 2004.  I can't believe they made it that long.  In 1897 when the company was founded, wasn't there at least one guy who noticed that the name OLDsmobile could be a potential marking hurdle down the road?  I mean who wants to buy a brand new car that has the word OLD right in the title of the make.  Doesn't inspire much confidence for the consumer.  I understand that the founder's last name was Olds, Ransom E. Olds, a name which leaves a lot of questions to be answered to be certain...Ransom?  But Oldsmobile?  I understand you want to have your name affliated with the company but there has to be a line drawn somewhere.  Out of business in 2004.  A pretty good run of over 100 years.  But I wonder if the Olds family ever lays in bed at night and thinks, "what if?"  What if our forefather just happened to be named Ransom E. Brandnew?  Would the company still be in business?  I guess we'll never know.

This Tastes Embarrassing

Have you ever been to a restaurant and seen something on the menu that looked delicious, but didn't order it because the name was so stupid that you didn't want to say it out loud?  I mean, I love appetizers as much as the next guy.  But I'm not going to say "Super Duper Sampler"

Hey, That's Mine!

I would love, absolutely LOVE it if someone tried to steal my identity.  I wake up every morning and pray to God that someone steals my identity.  People who steal identities should make sure to do some research on their prey.  Because if someone stole my identity right now, and spent two days doing it at let's say, ten hours a day, that would be twenty man hours.  Well let me tell you something Mr. Identity Thief.  If you venture out into those waters, you stand to make about $9 an hour.  I hope you're happy, because you just committed a crime to make the equivalent of a job that you could have found on Craiglist under "shitty jobs".  Fuck you, identity stealer! 

Serial Researcher

I don't like it when people blow things out of proportion.  I also don't like it when people over-react, which is just like blowing something out of proportion.  Like for about six months, I was doing some research on this girl I was interested in who I didn't know, but had seen at a bar and thought was cute.  So I followed her home at about 2AM one night to do some research on where she lived.  Then about three days a week for the next month or so I would research her from the bushes outside her house with binoculars, trying to research what she did with her spare time and researching what she liked to watch on TV.  About six weeks later I saw her again at the bar I originally saw her at and worked up the courage to talk to her, but guess what, I wasn't even nervous.  Because I had plenty to talk to her about because of all the valuable research I had done.  Time well spent.  So after talking to her for about ten minutes, she was like, "get the hell away from me you creepster", which was a total surprise to me considering I felt like I had prepared myself so well with all of my research.  So refusing to give up on her, because I knew love isn't easy and you can't hurry it, or so I'm told by Diana Ross, I decided to follow her around and show up to as many places as I could that she was at.  So one day I was doing some research on her at her job and all her co-workers were like, who's that guys in the corner with the clipboard and no pants, and I was like "I'm a researcher!  Don't talk about me like I'm not here.  Just because I'm hiding behind this bush doesn't mean I can't hear you!"  Jesus!  People are so insensitive.  They just don't understand research or have any respect for science.  Then a few months after I had met her I was stopped by a cop around dusk when I was waiting outside her apartment for her to get home so I could put some finishing touches on my research.  The cop told me that there was some sort of "restraint" on my research and that I had to stay 500 feet away from her when doing my research or I'd be arrested.  Unbelievable!  A guy can't even do a little research without getting hastled by the 5-0.  Bullshit.  Anyway, long story short, I finished my research.  Jail isn't as bad as they say it is, and it's a quiet place to write.

Secret-ary

I never really realized that in the word "secretary" is the word "secret".  Most likely because they are pronounced differently.  But in my case, it's appropriate.  Because if and when I get a job where I have a secretary, I'm not going to make her do work.  No filing, answering phones, emailing.  My secretary's job is going to be simple...I'm going to tell her all my secrets!  Method of secret transfer?  Email?  Fax? Phone call? Yelling?  Of course not!  Who the hell yells a secret?!?!  The only appropriate way to tell a secret...whisper.

That's Too Far

For generations the question has been asked in countless settings, "how far is too far?"  Well allow me to let you in on the answer to that question in at least one of the many settings.  If you're a man in a public restroom and you're approaching a urinal, I don't care how badly you have to piss, if you take your penis out of your pants as you're walking towards the urinal so far away that I'm able to see said penis...that's too far!

Tell Me About It

When I buy something, I like to tell people.  That way they know I'm fucking rich!  But being rich isn't good enough.  So when I tell them about it, I like to use the word "purchase".  That way they know that I'm smart too.  The exchange usually goes something like this:

ME:  "Hey loser, guess what, I just purchased a 1998 Pontiac Bonneville!"

SOME GUY: "Holy shit, that rich guy sure is smart!"

You're Not So Smart!

YOU keep left on High Street!!!

I started using a GPS on road trips.  Unfortunately this often leads me to get lost because I hate being told what to do. 

Outstanding!!!

I went to the bank the other day to close my account.  The teller said to me, "we can't close your account, you have one outstanding check".  I couldn't believe it.  I went home, pretty disappointed.  I know my other checks have potential, and if they just applied themselves a little, they could be outstanding too.