People who kill themselves really take life too seriously.
I always want to ask really obese people how they have sex. And what it's like in airplane seats and toilets and what not. But I never do. Strange.
Lately I've been considering wearing a bib when I eat. I think my clothes would look better and last longer as a result.
You can tell a career air traffic controller by his eyes. I can spot an air traffic controller with more than ten years experience from twelve feet away in a dimly lit room. Their eyes look exercised (one of those things that's hard to describe but easy to spot, like sex).
I think it's great that Ron Paul has got a ton of people saying to themselves, “Wait. What the hell is the Federal Reserve Bank again?” That makes me feel good about Americans.
I wish we were allowed to hunt on the grounds of my apartment complex. I think it would totally liven up the place.
Writing when you're exhausted is like trying to pull a string out of tube without touching either: a slow process.
Come to think of it, writing when you're exhausted and downing a couple of beers on an empty stomach is a slow process, too.
Has anybody beat up crooked NBA referee, Tim Donaghy yet? Because I would like that to happen.
If I owned a bar, I would trap a room of fat chicks and then unload them onto the floor an hour before closing time. I think that would be an interesting sociological experiment. Of course, I don't know what sociological means either but I'm pretty sure that watching a bunch of drunk men react to a bevy of sauced up fat chicks would be entertaining in the funny way. And if you disagree, you're wrong. Even if I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.
And finally, because logic and fluidity are taking a well deserved nap, I leave you with the following, which I overheard at a barbecue:
“I don't know why more people don't hula-hoop.”
Labels: observations