Nah, don't bother going all the way to the other room to get a tissue to blow your nose. Just use those napkins right there in front of you!
Um, but, Brain, those were in a sealed delivery bag with a bunch of weird Vietnamese sauces...
So? They're napkins! And they're totally dry!
...and now my hands and the inside of my nose (i.e. everything) smell like old vagina. Thanks, combination of fumes from hoisin, hot sauce, and I-hope-that-was-actually sweet & sour, for the...creative contribution to my olfactory experience today.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Friday, November 6, 2009
Discount Shopping
Oh, internet auction sites, how you spite my wallet.
Thing is, even if you don't need a Northwave Bike Raptor S.B.S. Mountain Bike Shoe, or a women's Royal Robbins Sonoma Boucle Hooded Sweatshirt, goddamn it, they cost half what they should!
Those shoes are $60 and you don't own a mountain bike, but goddamn it they normally retail for $149.99 and it is a DEAL.
This week, the culprit was a pair of cufflinks. With working clocks on them. Links. Clocks. Wow.
See ya later, $100.
Thing is, even if you don't need a Northwave Bike Raptor S.B.S. Mountain Bike Shoe, or a women's Royal Robbins Sonoma Boucle Hooded Sweatshirt, goddamn it, they cost half what they should!
Those shoes are $60 and you don't own a mountain bike, but goddamn it they normally retail for $149.99 and it is a DEAL.
This week, the culprit was a pair of cufflinks. With working clocks on them. Links. Clocks. Wow.
See ya later, $100.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Roadside Attractions
I'm starting to uncover a pattern, and it goes like this:
You can/should do _____ now, because you will offset it with _____ later on.
Almost always, this is a fat, fucking lie.
Go ahead and finish the bag of gummy worms and then have a popsicle . You'll bike home from work tomorrow.
Lie.
You can skip working out this morning -- you'll just do some pushups when you get home.
Lie.
Sure, go ahead and get high first thing in the morning. Just have some coffee before you go out and you'll be fiiiiine.
Total lie.
I wonder if my Christian upbringing is creeping in around the edges here. My brain has a clear habit of trafficking in "future rewards rather than in present realities" (Tom Robbins), and if that isn't the hallmark of Western religion, I don't know what is.
You can/should do _____ now, because you will offset it with _____ later on.
Almost always, this is a fat, fucking lie.
Go ahead and finish the bag of gummy worms and then have a popsicle . You'll bike home from work tomorrow.
Lie.
You can skip working out this morning -- you'll just do some pushups when you get home.
Lie.
Sure, go ahead and get high first thing in the morning. Just have some coffee before you go out and you'll be fiiiiine.
Total lie.
I wonder if my Christian upbringing is creeping in around the edges here. My brain has a clear habit of trafficking in "future rewards rather than in present realities" (Tom Robbins), and if that isn't the hallmark of Western religion, I don't know what is.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Paying It Forward
You can toootally have a salad with eggs and bacon and chicken and Caesar dressing for lunch. It's a SALAD! Anyway, you'll probably have something really healthy for dinner while you're out drinking tonight.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Pulling The Trigger
Tonight was the night of forced transfers. 1 train, 110th to 96th. Unforced transfer to 3 train. 3 train to 42nd. Forced transfer to 2. 2 train randomly terminates at Chambers. Time check, 12:30am, and a full train has just dumped onto a full platform.
A train shows up, and goddamn it, people start shoving. Shoving to get on to a train at 12:30 in the goddamn morning, because this is New York and there are too many fucking people here.
I end up buried at the end of a car, and that's when it chimes in:
You know you can solve this, right? Just give the throat a little tickle. From the inside. Puke nice and hard right here on the floor and you'll have more space than you know what to do with...
Shhh, shhh... quiet, baby --it's no fun if I listen every time.
A train shows up, and goddamn it, people start shoving. Shoving to get on to a train at 12:30 in the goddamn morning, because this is New York and there are too many fucking people here.
I end up buried at the end of a car, and that's when it chimes in:
You know you can solve this, right? Just give the throat a little tickle. From the inside. Puke nice and hard right here on the floor and you'll have more space than you know what to do with...
Shhh, shhh... quiet, baby --it's no fun if I listen every time.
The Couch
The couch is a motherfucker.
You're lying there, relaxing with your back all curled to shit against the arm of a loveseat. As young-adult scoliosis sets in, you gorge yourself on comfort and Teddy Grahams. The clock on the cable box shows 11pm. Daily Show, Colbert, sweet.
Now it's midnight. Home Movies reruns? Sure. 12:30. You yawn, body eager to slip out of consciousness, and your brain says, Check the DVR. I bet you've got some real funny shit on there.
12:37 rolls through and you're blacked out in front of last week's Office, arm draped over your face, neck jammed at a right angle.
Congratulations, brain, you win.
At 3:00 you will wake up in a cold sweat, and you will drag your sorry, tired ass to the bathroom and then to bed. You will wake up at 8:00 feeling like complete shit, utterly confused by the lucid zombie apocalypse dream you just snapped out of (thanks again, brain).
Either I secretly love watching TV through my eyelids or my brain hates me. Can't tell.
So here's hope that "scoliosis" is just a secret codeword for "awesome."
You're lying there, relaxing with your back all curled to shit against the arm of a loveseat. As young-adult scoliosis sets in, you gorge yourself on comfort and Teddy Grahams. The clock on the cable box shows 11pm. Daily Show, Colbert, sweet.
Now it's midnight. Home Movies reruns? Sure. 12:30. You yawn, body eager to slip out of consciousness, and your brain says, Check the DVR. I bet you've got some real funny shit on there.
12:37 rolls through and you're blacked out in front of last week's Office, arm draped over your face, neck jammed at a right angle.
Congratulations, brain, you win.
At 3:00 you will wake up in a cold sweat, and you will drag your sorry, tired ass to the bathroom and then to bed. You will wake up at 8:00 feeling like complete shit, utterly confused by the lucid zombie apocalypse dream you just snapped out of (thanks again, brain).
Either I secretly love watching TV through my eyelids or my brain hates me. Can't tell.
So here's hope that "scoliosis" is just a secret codeword for "awesome."
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