Sometimes I'll close my eyes and then open them and pretend that I just awoke in my body for the first time. Like I was someone else before and now I'm in this body for a new mission.
And every single time the first thought is "I'M NOT PREPARED FOR THIS!"
I went over to my Mom's the other day and saw a squirrel in the backyard and said to my Mom, "Hey, a squirrel!"
She responded "I hate them."
I asked "How the hell can you hate a squirrel?"
Then she rolled up a sleeve and showed me a serial number tattooed to her arm.
My mother is a great cook and this was always lost on me as I have bad taste in food. I still remember being super happy to miss out on my Mom's brisket by going over to my buddy's house for Macaroni and Cheese out of the box.
The point here is that my buddy was poor.
And yet I enjoyed it much more than the expensive food my Mom would make. Which leads me to believe that the poor secretly have it good.
Think of all the expensive stuff you have in your house. Really think hard. How much of it, if it were gone, would make your life easier?
Imagine not having to worry about what's on television – you have no television. That goes for internet and movies too.
Or trying to figure out what's for dinner – it's always Ramen noodles and Cragmont from 1982 that you bought in gross at a flea market.
The poor have it good – make no mistake.
A cool video game would be a first person shooter type game, but you're a bartender. You make drinks for all these people, but you have to keep track of who you are serving because you lose if someone gets in a fight, gets a DUI, or rapes someone.
I'd call it Your Watch.
Every year there's about nine storms they call the Storm of the Century. They need to raise that bar or people will no longer take that title seriously. Like "Hey, here's a pretty good storm".
Here's a cool tip I learned – always ask "What?" when people say something to you. That way you get another chance to think about what they said.
Most people don't know this, but the deaf are just really, really slow.
I'd like to apologize to any deaf people out there. It was just a joke. Not even a good one. Not nearly as good as that one about the deaf pony and the jackass.
But I'm not going to tell that one. I'm not an animal racist.
Racism is the worst thing about America. Like the other day I was walking home from the store and this guy comes up to me panting. He looks me in the eye and then points straight ahead.
"Fuck" I thought. "Now I have to race this guy".
I always thought it was funny to run ahead of people jogging, then turn and pretend to be training them like on Rocky.
"Keep your head up!" I'd yell. Or "Let me see you jab!"
I stopped doing it when I realized I was getting exercise on accident.
"Christ, I lost fifty pounds."
I don't like that kind of thing – on accident. I want everything in my life to be on purpose. Like that shitty book The Purpose Driven Life. Except I do really dumb things on purpose.
Like if I'm in the bathroom I'll scrawl numbers on the wall of pizza joints under a banner saying "For a Good Time Call" then I'll call them so everyone can hear me lose it on the phone when I realize it's a pizza joint and not a hooker.
For the longest time I thought the Secretary of the State was the woman at the White House who was in charge of throwing parties, announcing birthdays, and administrating the lost and found.
When did kids become cancer? I was at a buddy's house and my other buddy was late and I said something like "KEITH is always late." And my buddy, let's call him Brian, goes "He has kids."
Like I just made fun of a cancer patient or something.
Look, you made a choice – you chose kids. That's not my problem. In fact, it should merit some recognition.
If you had a test and they gave you two options – beer and pretzels or 18 years of life threatening responsibility, and you chose the latter – YOU FAIL. You don't get to collect get out of late cards for the rest of your life.
My point here is Brian is an asshole.
This one time I was talking to my buddy about all the times I locked my keys in my car and then proceeded to lock my keys in my car. This totally goes against that stupid rule that if you have a problem you should talk about it.
In fact, I say go the other way with everything. If your fat, eat some donuts. Drinking problem – drink some whiskey. Cancer – smoke some cigarettes. There is no reason people should die "out of the blue" or "for no good reason". Death is a big fucking thing. No one on Earth right now has died. No one knows what happens. You lose everything. And people don't take it seriously. It should be treated as a sport. If you die for no good reason, you lose. When I die people will go "Well, I saw that a mile away." Or "He really gave his all for this death, we should really go overboard on the speeches." You suit up and show up to your death. Don't get hit by lightning or a drunk driver – own your death. Because if you don't, death will own you.
And that's why, honey, I'm smoking in this Chuck E Cheese.
A cool thing to do on Halloween is to go trick or treating, but when they come to the door with candy, just go "No thanks, I just want to pet your dog." If they don't have a dog, substitute "you" for "dog".
One thing I hate about sex is that women want to get a massage out of it. It's like you're sitting there, both of you are naked, it's totally "go time" and she'll say "Could you give me a back rub?"
I've literally just stared blankly at women after hearing this.
There is no way a back rub feels like an orgasm. Why are you ordering a diet Pepsi at a Baskin and Robbins, honey? Why order turkey when you can get bacon? And why order a back rub when you can get off? Pisses me off. That's why at the beginning of every relationship I will put my hands on the woman's shoulders and go "Let's get this out of the way now."
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