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My Life is Awesomely Delusional!

2 May

I watch too many movies. Possibly, too many BAD movies and I watched them from a young age. So I’ve come to the realization that I must remind myself that my daily life is not a movie. It’s not like I go around like an honest cop with nothing to lose or a spunky investigative journalist looking for love. There are just moments where the first thought that pops into my head are movie clichés rather than real life possibilities.

At the bar:

I was at a college bar and a girl ran into me. She was cute and innocent, but not naïve. She said, “Excuse me, I’m sorry” and then walked off.  So obviously, SHE WAS A PICKPOCKET! Ah yes, rather than chat and flirt with her like a normally libido-ed man, I checked my wallet to make sure she didn’t get 33 bucks and a Chili’s gift card with $7.64 left on it. What college girl learns to pick pockets?

This Girl!

This Girl!

I felt for my wallet, found it, then looked back at her walking away and thought, “What’s your game? What are you really after?” It was like the hot female version of Oliver and I was the mark. But what if she were Catwoman and instead of taking something, she was planting something so she could seduce me and take it back later? Sadly, she’d probably just take me into an alley with promises of fellating me and instead crack my head against a wall and take it back from my jacket pocket. Then she’d put my hat over my eyes and people would think I was drunk and leave me alone.

The Men’s Room:

Occasionally, I’m alone in a public bathroom. It’s really great. I can just pee and pee and there’s no one to judge me for it. When I’m done, I wash my hands (like everyone should, you gross-ass mother fuckers!!!). While rinsing, a man walks in, I glance at him through the mirror as he walks to the urinals. I finish rinsing, dry my hands and walk out. That’s it.

BUT! In my head, he turns from the urinals with a Desert Eagle and begins firing at me, but I’m too quick. I rip the towel dispenser off the wall and throw it at him. It distracts him for just long enough so I can rush him and we get into a no holds barred fight. Soon, stall doors are torn off their hinges, broken porcelain litters the floor, and pee pee water is spraying from pipes ripped from the walls. Then I’d give him a swirly in a toilet bowl and say something like “You’re Number 2.”

Who does #2 work for??

Who does #2 work for??

Examples of what my bathroom trips are like:

True LiesCasino RoyaleEastern PromisesHarry Potter

Walking down a dark street:

Sometimes in L.A. it’s night. No, it’s not all sunshine and milkshakes with strippers like you see on TV.

And when it’s night, I become the night!

Perhaps I’m leaving a bar and heading to my car. There I am walking down a dark residential street. The moon shines through the branches of the trees. The sound of my shoes clack on the sidewalk. But what is that? A second set of footsteps! I take an unnecessary left turn at the next street. Hide just around the corner. Nothing.

No, really nothing. There was no person. It was probably an echo or a branch or…something. So I walk back to the street I unnecessarily turned on and walk another block to my car.

But what it would have been like was The Departed! Weaving and ducking between buildings! Who’s following who? And what danger is behind that dumpster? Since I don’t know, I pretend I’m a spy. I duck behind trees and hide in the shadows. It gets awkward when others aren’t in on it.

Fuck You random guy and your tiny dog!

Fuck you random guy and your tiny dog!

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Dreamland Ramblings

23 Apr

As a “humorist” (I use that term lightly), I always need to be aware of something funny to write. It could be something so inane, but for some reason I’d be able to write pages upon pages about “How I like my eggs” (I know, very interesting).

Sometimes, these ideas are so brilliant that they awake me from my slumber and must be written down. And in most of these instances, when I wake up the next morning, the ideas are…well…shit.

Hell, sometimes I have no idea what the fuck I was writing about.

So for your pleasure, and my embarrassment, I shall try to decode the 4am ramblings of a half asleep, idiot man.

Ready?

Cowboys Redskins Football

Okay!

“The worst part about getting bit by a rattlesnake is that it doesn’t eat you. Such a waste of meat.”

I’m my recent research I discovered that out of 2,700 species, only about 375 are poisonous. So only about 14% of all snakes would actually be able to kill you. But what’s more sad is that if a snake bites you and you die as a result, most of the time the snake won’t eat you! The whole “circle of life” thing just falls apart. As a human you’d be an awesome meal for a snake. It wouldn’t have to eat for like a month! Instead, you’d just lay there and rot, sure other things may eat your dead body, but that snake gets nothing.

In fact, only if you were in the Amazon jungle and a giant python killed you would you be eaten by a snake.

SnakeMan

That snake knows what I’m talking about!

Anyway, this late night note makes sense. It’s just a fact though, not necessarily a joke. Good think I never put this in an article!

Next!

“Anti-cloning argument: bad date, but worse because its a raptor.”

The first part and the last part of this make sense. Anti-cloning and raptor. I still agree and I’d think this is a good note…If it weren’t for “bad date”! What the hell was I thinking??

The best I can come up with is that perhaps I would go out on a blind date with a girl. We’d message back and forth, and because of “now legal cloning” in the world of my dreams, she’s a clone. BUT! what I didn’t realize is that she was actually cloned female raptor! I meet up with her at dinner and she eats me. Boom, “Anti-Cloning Argument”!

Dinner-for-Two
Or we have white wine and fried Calamari.

Or perhaps, I’ve just got an issue with raptors. They’re violent, sinisterly brilliant, and carnivorous. Plus, they’re clingy, irrational, but boy are they crazy in bed!!!

Moving on!

“I find dolphins patronizing. They’re always performing. Just chill. Also, would abort their children.”

I think this one came up after “The Cove” won the Oscar for best documentary. It’s producer was this guy:

johnny5_shortcircuit2

Not the guy in the cowboy hat, the other one.

Coincidentally, I’m Japanese like those guys in “The Cove”, and though I don’t really condone the mass killing of dolphins, I really don’t care for dolphins either. I think in America we place importance on things that happen in pop culture.

Apparently, nobody cared about the discovery of the planet Pluto until Mickey Mouse named his dog “Pluto.” Then when Pluto was downgraded to a satellite, people were up in arms and picketing in front of…”space/planet naming people.” So I think the same thing happened because of the show, Flipper.

Honestly, dolphins are like the teacher’s pets of the ocean. They want us to pay attention to them, laugh with them, and feed them. But did you also know that male dolphins occasionally gang rape female dolphins? Sometimes they even rape humans?? They do!

And it’s also believed that dolphins can self abort their fetuses.

The Republicans were right! Female anatomy does have counter-measures…it’s just that it’s dolphin female anatomy.

Pillow Man

18 Apr

As I was trying to fall asleep last night (alone, except for my two cats roaming around and knocking stuff over to wake me up) I had a startlingly sad realization.

I sleep on one side of the bed.

Well, that’s not surprising—a lot of people tend to lean more to one side of the bed, even if they have the whole thing to themselves.  I posit that I chose that side mostly because it’s easier to get out of the bed when you’re closer to the side that’s away from the wall.  Reasonable thought.  But I also like to have a lot of pillows at the head of the bed; as a side-sleeper it keeps me neck from hurting.  But in the search for the right pillow density, I have more pillows than can really fit at the head of the bed.

I have created a “pillow man,” whose side of the bed I do not infringe upon.

Yes, I have inadvertently created a pillow boyfriend, the stuff of internet jokes and gag gifts.

Sure, I always sleep semi-upright in armchairs without a blanket… Don’t you?

And it’s nearly impossible to fall asleep after you’ve come face to face with your own goddamn sadness.

Bad Day

9 Apr

sad_face copy

I had a bad day. And not one of those, “my boss is an ass, customers are jerks, my pet died” kinda bad days. No, I mean one of those, “Everything is going well enough…random wayward thought…now I’m having a bad day” kinda bad days.

This was that kinda bad day. A bad day where you…y’know sit on your computer and Facebook and/or (mostly “and”) Google stalk your exes. All of them.

And then you start thinking about where it all went wrong and what you could have done differently and how much happier they are now than you. Then you think, “It was all my fault that it fell apart.”

There was that mistake and that one and this one, oh, don’t forget that one!

Then you’re like, “They’re not happier than me because I’m an awesome guy!” But then you think to yourself, “I’m not that awesome.”

Then you scoff aloud and think “Whatever! Where are they in their life? Huh, self-esteem?? You don’t know!” And then you stumble across some article or news clipping about something they accomplished and you realize they’re much better place than you are.

Then you try to be the bigger man and force yourself to think, “Oh she tried new things and it worked out. How pleasant for her…

…bitch.”

Lightning Round of Shame

7 Mar

Here are a few things I should be ashamed about… and I kind of am… but not really.  Maybe a little.

I legitimately love fat karate Elvis as much as I love thin rock n’ roll Elvis.

Sexy mofo with all those rhinestones… and don’t even get me started on that cape…

I will watch You’ve Got Mail just about every time it’s on TV—which is a lot.

Tom Hanks is so yummy. Yeah, I said it. What?

Previously, I would always watch The Wedding Planner when it was on—which was also a lot.  (p.s.  Remember when J-Lo and P Diddy dated?  That was when she was filming that movie.  Whoa.)

I really dislike Miss Piggy.  This is due in part to the fact that I think she’s a diva and is unnecessarily mean and physically abusive, especially to Kermit the Frog whom she is supposed to love. It is also due to the fact that I am actually jealous of her relationship with Kermit because I love him.

Get your hands off my felty man!