Yeah, that’s right, at some point today I accidentally deleted 10+ hours worth of work. The end result is 1) I don’t feel like writing about anything tonight (sorry) and 2) I’m going to get drunk.
Please continue yesterday’s discussion about whether or not little people are, in fact, people.
Hey everyone, sorry but I’ll be back tomorrow. Does that mean “sorry that I’m not back today” or “sorry that you will have to start reading my poorly written, useless thoughts again.” You decide.
I’m sorry to say that I need to take a break from the list. I honestly feel very bad about it but I have some personal issues to deal with first. I’m just not able to complain about American Idol and poop right now. I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry.
I hope to be back soon so don’t totally give up on me.
If you know me personally, there is a good chance you know that I hate to poop. You may also know that I can go several days without pooping. Those poop-free days feel like a gift from God. I would imagine it feels not unlike getting a call from the Governor that spares you from the electric chair.
I am not trying to be funny or outrageous with these claims, I honestly hate everything about pooping. People often try to convince me that “pooping feels soooo good” but I will never understand how forcing a tube of warm, smelly feces out of my butthole is supposed to feel good. I feel sad and humiliated while taking a dump. You know the way most dogs look embarrassed when pooping in public? I’m sure I look exactly the same every time I poop.
Pooping at home is bad enough but the panic I feel when I realize I am going to have to shit in a public bathroom is unrivaled. Taking a shit in an airport might be the worst thing to ever happen in my life. NO, pooping on the plane is even worse.
I need to go lie down.
p.s. I love farting! I just wanted to clear that up.
After working a 16 hour day yesterday (and not writing for this website) I finally let my head hit the pillow for a good night’s sleep. As usual I woke up feeling less-rested than I felt when going to bed. I hate my dreams.
My dreams consistently include 3 major themes: frustration, fear and celebrities. My dreams will often last for what seems like hours and usually end with me waking up feeling terrified, stressed or both. I might spend the night shooting raisins at Corey Haim or maybe I’m driving Miley Cyrus and a vacuum cleaner around the city while she sings “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.” Both of these nightmares are real. I also recently had a dream that included a magazine on a table called “Manhole Weekly.”
Last night was a typical dream where I try to accomplish a relatively simple task that ends up becoming complicated and stressful. The short version of last night’s dream is… I went to buy a 12 pack of beer for an engagement party of a girl I worked with 12 years ago. When I arrived I thought it would be funny to call in to the talk radio show they were listening to and make some joke specific to them. I finally got through to the station and was put on hold. In the meantime they had switched the station. I walked into the room they were hanging out in, spilling and trying to gather beer cans the entire time, and tried to find the correct radio station for my ruined joke. In my dream, this was like a 15 minute process. Finally I said fuck it and sat on the couch with Philip Seymour Hoffman who was dressed as a priest. I excitedly told him my band had been chosen to do the soundtrack for a new blockbuster movie called “The Reconstructionist.” Upon hearing this news he became intense and pulled my head onto his lap. He stared at me and said “is that right?” and then his eyes became totally white for about 2 seconds. This might sound dumb but in the dream this was terrifying. I sat up and said “I guess I will just sit up now and shit my pants.” Then I woke up from fear. It took me a good 15 minutes to get over how scared I was.
See the look on this woman’s face? You will never look like this while getting a massage from me.
I don’t care if giving a 5 minute massage would lead to hot, sweaty sex with Lucy Liu on a private Caribbean island while Brooke Burke and Keeley Hazel watch and beg to join in, I’m not doing it so stop asking, Lucy!
I absolutely LOVE to RECEIVE a massage, especially from a professional (insert happy ending joke here), but I despise giving them. I would rather retake the SATs than massage your back. When I try to give a massage I begin with good intentions but literally after 10 seconds I am sick and tired of it. I’m not happy, you’re not happy, so why bother?
