Ruminations
The temperature outside is directly proportional to the number of times my snooze button is hit in the morning. Fuck Winter!
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People renege on promises, agreements, and handshakes all the time, but no one is bold enough to break a pinkie swear.
If you were a boy, Beyonce, no one would pay any attention to you.
Public restrooms are disgusting. I'm proposing that they be renamed to represent a more accurate description: Disaster Area.
I don't understand how anyone can get through a Snickers in more than 5 bites.
The warmth that comes up from the troths at a stadium feels great until you realize where it is coming from.
Just because you name your pet after a designer clothing line doesn't make it any classier than a pet with a normal name. I bet it poops on your carpet more often just to spite you for giving it a dumb name.
There is no reason to ever call me your wingman if you're too scared to talk to the girls at the bar.
I don't mind BS-ing with you at work, but you should know without me telling you that the size of your 12 year old's penis is not normal conversation.
Dear people in relationships: When you spend half the time bitching about your significant other and how much work relationships are, why is it so hard for you to understand why I enjoy being single?
Why does every condom buying experience have to be so awkward? It's bad enough you have to tote them around the store, but is it really necessary for a mother of two to be in front of you, a granny to be behind you, and 14 year old girl to be ringing you out?
Is there any food item that isn't delicious when dipped into a Wendy's Frosty?
The number of times I tell myself the previous evening that I will wake up early is directly proportional to the number of times I hit my snooze button in the morning.
Why do you always end up having to touch things with no-touch sensors?
Why do your buddies keep you safe from the trolls when they are single, but will gladly hook you up with one once their girlfriend/fiancee thinks it would be a good match?
If you continue to use big words in normal conversation, I promise to remain unimpressed with you.
I am 6'2", and I need you to understand that if you are 5'4" or shorter, I am going to use you as an armrest.
Lunch and Learns leave me feeling very conflicted. On one hand, I have to sit and listen to some bullshit presentation during my lunch hour that I usually spend outside of this old ass building. On the other hand, I like free lunch. And the sad thing is, I don't know which one trumps the other.
I really hate you people that take awesome phrases or terms and run them into the ground by using them often and out of context. Example: Michael Scott on The Office is funny when he says "That's what she said." You are annoying when someone sneezes and you say "That's what she said."
Why do girls always look better from a distance, from behind, and in dim light?
You know you use foul language way too often when you are sitting in a pew at a wedding and you keep reminding yourself not to swear in church.
There's nothing that pisses me off more than people who insist on typing things but can't spell or use grammar worth a damn. I'd rather you call me and tell me instead of reading "party at are house friday. your invitid. i am trying a new recipi. hop you can make it."
Dear Mr. Bartender: Serve me a fucking drink, you douchebag. Seriously. Stop ignoring me. I'm not impressed with you. At all. Bartending is a simple concept. This bar blows, I hate that I'm here, and I want to drown myself with whiskey shots and beer to cope with it. You provide me with those immediately when I want them in exchange for the wad of cash I have in my pocket. The better you do it, the more I tip. But since you can't grasp that concept, I hope you enjoy this quarter you gave me as change for your stupid ass oddly priced drinks.
Nothing brings me greater joy than to have a friend drive me and a chick back to my place, especially when he tries to hit on her and get her back to his place, only for him to finally realize that a) the reason she came with us is to fuck me and b) she thinks he's gay. Nothing says "I just dominated your ass" like watching him walk out the door with his tail between his legs.
I really wanna meet this "Your Mom" that everyone has apparently fucked.
Stop writing love letters to your significant other as postings on Myspace, Facebook, or in your blog. For crying out loud, you're dating aren't you? If you can't tell him/her how you feel in person, maybe you shouldn't be together in the first place. Because let's be honest, nobody else really gives a fuck that you wasted 45 minutes writing a bulletin to somebody who is sitting across the room from you and will probably never read it.
It's alright if you and I talk politics, but understand one thing: I'm right and you're wrong. Period.
Ladies of Myspace: stop randomly messaging me if you are posting pictures that only show your shoulders and your face. I can't fantasize about the non-possibility of us ever hooking up in real life without knowing what 7/8 of the rest of you looks like.
Seriously, why do they place hot girls in business meetings. Do you seriously thing I'm going to contribute to the meeting at all when Sarah over there is busting out of her shirt? I might as well not have been invited in the first place!
Why is it that when I plan on being late to work, I arrive at the same time as when I'm trying to be on time?
If you get married on a Saturday during college football season, expect me to pay zero attention to anything at your reception other than your open bar, the closest television, and the chick I'm going to make out with when my team wins.
The other day, my best friend and I were talking about my dating life. My best friend is happily engaged. He looks at me and says, "You need to stop being so picky."
Great, best friend #1. You're getting married to the girl of your dreams and you want me to date a troll. What a pal!
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