Ruminations
Because buying beer is partly literary research for me, I get to write off a portion of its expenses on my taxes. What pisses me off is that I don’t get to write off all the other things that inevitably come with beer, such as the Gatorade, Advil, various two-liters of mixer/chaser, 4am Taco Bell runs, or the hooker, lawyer, and court fees.
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I hate when I’m showering at someone else’s house and they hand me a wash cloth, because I start thinking, “Have I been doing this wrong the whole time?”
I think the easiest people to rob would not be the elderly or disabled, but those who have just finished an intense leg workout.
You know a corporation is doing well when its ads stop promoting their products and start telling you how green their factories are.
I sort of wish Godzilla would attack my city, just to see if I could survive doing all the things I always shout at the TV.
Why is a baby being born called a miracle if it’s happened over a hundred billion times?
When does something become a “medical mystery” as opposed to an annoying condition that takes a long time to diagnose?
To get a driver’s license, you need to be a certain age and pass a test. To own a gun, you have to be a certain age and pass a background check. To FISH, you need a license. But, to have a child—to bring another life into the world that is your sole responsibility—you don’t have to prove anything? You can be any age, be a complete fuck-up, yet you can have a kid? The hell is up with that?!
What’s sadder: the fact that I consider a night out a success if I wake up with no major injuries and bar tab under $200, or that my friends high-five me for it?
When trying to pickup girls at a bar, don’t be mysterious; this isn’t a movie and you don’t look enough like Brad Pitt.
Just because it’s a quick email doesn’t mean you can neglect basic grammar and punctuation. And for Christ’s sake capitalize the i in I’ll!
Jack Daniel's should include directions to the nearest hospital, jail and morgue with every bottle.
If your girlfriend cheats on you with another girl, it is not called cheating. It is called awesome.
If there was ever a chance that intelligent beings from outer space wanted to contact us, Youtube comments have ruined it.
This Halloween I didn’t go out in a costume, but instead stayed home and got drunk. When kids came by trick-or-treating and asked where my costume was and why I was leaning to the left, I told them I was the New York Times. They didn’t get it.
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