Microwaveable food always says to “stir once halfway through cooking cycle” or some such, and I never do. That’s just the kind of f-ing rebel I am.
I had the most awesome Bachelor-Morning today. Not only did I wake up to find that I had no more clean underwear, (forcing me to wear yesterday’s pair) but, I also discovered, upon shoving a spoonful of cereal in my mouth, that the milk had gone decidedly bad. The best part was, (as I sat on my chair half-dressd in dirty boxers) that I looked at the bowl with a quizzical expression on my face, smelled the milk, and then went in for another bite. Just in case my synapses had mis-routed the “ummm, good” message to my brain, you see. It was like I was that lab rat that keeps going back for the electrified cheese.
This whole blogging thing is bringing me one step closer to manifesting my imaginary friend into a “real” person. Instead of talking out loud to no one, I can write these little snippets of conversation to Eric as if he actually existed. Ah, technology, blurring the lines between reality and acute psychosis.
Why doesn’t super-glue stick to the inside of the bottle? Actually, I know the answer, but I don’t care to share it, so the rest of you may continue working it out amongst yourselves. I’ll give you a hint though, it has everything to do with the cost of tea in China, or something.
Instructions for using a toothpick:
Insert pointed end between the teeth near the base of the tooth, then move vertically away from the gums, toward the top of one’s teeth, to clean the length of the gap.
Have you ever had one of those days where you try to stay mercifully under the radar and just stare at your computer screen, pushing the Send/Receive button on your e-mail every 45 seconds? It’s amazing just how much time can actually pass in this pursuit. For instance, if you take into account the somewhat early lunch that I’m about to take, I’ve successfully wasted away an entire Monday morning. Additionaly, if all goes as planned, I should be able to surf the Net through most of the early afternoon doing “market research” and then wind up the day closing off some “loose ends” (like rearranging my file cabinet). I don’t know what all those naysayers are talking about when they label US workers as lazy bums compared to the industrious Japanese. With all my slam-dunk solutions to the hot action-items I have, I’m multitasking the hell out of MY workday!
Going through my mail… too awesome to pass up:
>>Dear Friend,
Great News! The 13 Free Issues Certificate enclosed is guaranteed to bring you 13 Free Issues of MAXIM.
Why?
Because MAXIM is written for you. Especially for guys like you. MAXIM speaks your language and knows your fantasies. You’re the Man and MAXIM knows it!
MAXIM is here to celebrate everything that makes your life outstanding! Hot women, cool cars, cold beer, high tech toys, breathtaking sports action, spectacular sex.
MAXIM always delivers the goods. Learn the sacred art of dwarf tossing…how to hypnotize your penis…the domestic pleasure of topless maids…boosting your sperm count…and much, much, more…<< I am more than a little excited about all of this. In fact, as I am evidently The Man, I’m totally ordering two.
For some reason, I decided to order call-waiting. I had purposely not had it in order to save the whopping $3.00/month because, as I’m sure my mother told you, every cent counts. Perhaps I was feeling inadequate because everyone else has it. More likely, I was just paranoid that the only reason that I never get any phone calls, is because everyone is calling when I pick up to check the dial-tone…
I consider it a bit of a minor miracle that I can be a complete and utter couch potato without actually ever owning one.
I totally just got the awesome heavy-breathing phone call. Here’s a rough translation:
*ring ring*
Me: Hello?
Her: Hi.
M: Hi.
H: How are you?
M: Fine, how are you?
H: Good, what’s your name?
M: Dave, what’s yours?
H: Anything you want it to be.
M:
H: yes really. How old are you?
M: How old are you?
H: 16…
M:
Of course, right after hanging up, I’d wished I’d stayed on longer if only to see the game through to the end. There was also the strange satisfaction of being an unwitting victim for some bored 12 year olds’ slumber party, whereas some people would feel violated. I sit, waiting for Jasmine to call back…
