Gun control

The thing I don’t like about guns is that for them to be useful, you have to use bullets. You have to put in the extra effort to load the gun, which uses up valuable seconds and broadcasts your intentions in a crisis situation. This is why when confronted by danger, I just immediately hurl myself head-first through the air towards my assailant, thereby becoming both the gun and the bullet in one deadly package.

I’m so alone here.

You know that moment when you’re really feeling something, and you’re so full of emotion you want to hash out your feelings with someone else and hope they’ll validate your feelings, so you decide to share it and you walk up and try to talk to someone about it, and they’re like, giving you that concerned eyebrow shuffle on their face, like they’re concerned for your well being? Yeah. I’m right there, right now. About waffles. I am full of waffle-love, and have no one to share it with. I am not in close proximity to waffles or waffle-making technology, so I’m just stuck here on lonely waffle island, wanting them, waiting, hoping a ship made out of waffle will pass by.

Fun-erary Planning

I found some old papers from college the other night. I don’t know why I still had them, but I was rereading this paper for a sociology class on death. We had to write our own eulogy and describe our funerary plans. Is it unreasonable to want the pallbearers at your funeral to be dressed like ghostbusters and to be taken away in the Ecto-1 in a giant ‘trap’, to be later released into a ‘storage facility’? I didn’t think so either, but apparently that earned me a C+.

The Hater Lane

I really enjoy riding my bike to work, even though I’m riding in on a crappy little Schwinn which was probably manufactured in China. I think it’s funny when other bikers pass me, look at me on my bike and shake their head, speeding on down the road on their custom frames. Hey man, it’s not my fault your bike doesn’t have streamers like mine. Get over it.