High school English was a good time. There weren't many classes where someone could get a negative grade for handing something in. Which is, a really great message to send to anyone. "Hey, honestly. Next time you have an essay, just don't do it. You'll get a better grade." I'm going to suggest English teachers start giving advice on life too instead of just grammar. "Great sentence, really beautiful imagery, have you applied to McDonald's yet?" Or how about, "This isn't really coherent and I'm unsure as to the main thrust of your argument. Politics would be great for you."
I'll always remember that time in 9th grade English when a student politely raised their hand.((They didn't. They just said shit.)) Then asked if they could, "Give a hint." Then, proceeded to hint away, "When answering questions, just say the question in your answer." She was being helpful. At the time I considered myself pretty adept at answering questions. So what you ask? So what I'm trying to say is that I don't think her hint was necessary for me, it just makes the person who does it seem like they don't really understand communication. She probably turned into a big supporter of "active listening."
Active listening is when, instead of communicating in a way that humans do, you don't listen to what a person says. You parrot back to them what they just said, and nod at appropriate intervals. Because that's what science tells us is the best way to communicate. "My husband is leaving me and I'm sad."--"So what you're saying is your husband is leaving you, and that makes you feel sad?"((Just wait for them to melt into your reassuring arms after a few insightful comments like that.)) It speaks highly of someone's intelligence when they say everything you just said before moving on in a conversation. There's a difference between paying attention to what someone means and listening, and being very dumb. Active listening takes that line out back and beats it to death. Then it wears it around town as a hat to show everyone what it can do.
The problem with those things is that instead of teaching people do to well, it teaches people to look for tricks and loopholes to get them through the day. Don't worry about why you're repeating what someone said and then responding. Just do it, you'll be "better."
Friday, February 17, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Going Dancing
I love to go dancing. A lot of my male friends will see this and think, "What was I doing a second ago. I know I was doing something important. Dammit can't remember, guess it wasn't important." Then they'll continue reading.
The point is, I can't make a big enough fool of myself day in and day out. Occasionally I need some good old "look like a buffoon, and not a particularly coordinated one at that" time. Usually two to three hours is ideal. I make people with epilepsy and or cerebral palsy look like they're Flamenco instructors extraordinaire.
I wonder sometimes if I should drink or not. I'll have a beer while I work it out. Really, when you're on the dance floor being an idiot having a couple of drinks won't hurt anything. At worst you'll lose control and get thrown out of the club. But honestly, that might be more beneficial to your reputation in the long run. No one wants to dance with a Mr. Boring McStraightedge, so I say, "Down the hatch" then pretend I'm on a submarine. NOT one of the sandwiches. That would be ridiculous. How would you even dance on a ham and provolone cheese sub?
But let's be honest. The real reason guys go dancing is to hit on chicks. By hit on chicks I mean "stand in a corner and bop their head while staring at only one girl the whole night." I'm not saying there are more creepers on the dance floor than trees in the forest. But that's just because with the level of deforestation going on, there's no way the trees could compete.((Note, while potentially funny, mixing up deforestation and defloweration is not a good way to impress a girl's environmentally conscious father.))
I couldn't get out dancing this past week. So here's to telling jokes to kings and generally making a fool of myself.
The point is, I can't make a big enough fool of myself day in and day out. Occasionally I need some good old "look like a buffoon, and not a particularly coordinated one at that" time. Usually two to three hours is ideal. I make people with epilepsy and or cerebral palsy look like they're Flamenco instructors extraordinaire.
I wonder sometimes if I should drink or not. I'll have a beer while I work it out. Really, when you're on the dance floor being an idiot having a couple of drinks won't hurt anything. At worst you'll lose control and get thrown out of the club. But honestly, that might be more beneficial to your reputation in the long run. No one wants to dance with a Mr. Boring McStraightedge, so I say, "Down the hatch" then pretend I'm on a submarine. NOT one of the sandwiches. That would be ridiculous. How would you even dance on a ham and provolone cheese sub?
But let's be honest. The real reason guys go dancing is to hit on chicks. By hit on chicks I mean "stand in a corner and bop their head while staring at only one girl the whole night." I'm not saying there are more creepers on the dance floor than trees in the forest. But that's just because with the level of deforestation going on, there's no way the trees could compete.((Note, while potentially funny, mixing up deforestation and defloweration is not a good way to impress a girl's environmentally conscious father.))
I couldn't get out dancing this past week. So here's to telling jokes to kings and generally making a fool of myself.
Monday, February 13, 2012
What's up?
I know a lot of interesting facts about really interesting things. Like. Did you know that... I mean it's... I look at it this way.
So sometimes, aka when I'm put on the spot, I can't remember a single interesting thing. I do and say interesting things all the time, I'm sure I do. But, someone asks. All of the sudden I wouldn't know an interesting thing if a clown was shooting my dog on St. Patrick's day. Thankfully, there's a website that has interesting topics to view, and probably converse about. "interestingtopics.org."
First off, I want to point out that it's a ".org" site. Which doesn't mean anything other than someone paid for that domain name, but already I feel more comfortable learning from it. If it were a ".net" website I'd probably have to avert my eyes from the ridiculous popping colors and GIFs.((Note, this is based on how I feel, not reality. As is pretty much everything I write, FYI.))
Secondly, it really does have a lot of interesting topics, that you can see right away! After scrolling down past the first few I didn't care about I saw, "Liquid Water May Exist On Mars." Golly?! Are they for serious? With a headline taking a strong stance like that, I don't know what could be more interesting. So, that implies that there is definitely water. Obviously. But some of it, and I quote, "may" be liquid. I don't even know where to start with how interesting that is. I'm going to go get my interest-a-meter and see what it says.
BATSHIT INTERESTING!
((That is to say, as interesting as batshit. Which is to say, unless it's in my cup of drinking water, or maybe on my bed, probably irrelevant.)) I know, some of you science nerds are super plussed about the idea of water and its implications in respect to other life forms. But, that's similar to looking for a bear, and saying you found berries in a forest that a bear could live off of.((Wait... bears eat berries? I bet they're beary good, aren't they you widdle beary wary wears?)) Interestingly enough, that doesn't actually mean anything.
Oh! I remember something interesting, the weather! Let's talk about that.
So sometimes, aka when I'm put on the spot, I can't remember a single interesting thing. I do and say interesting things all the time, I'm sure I do. But, someone asks. All of the sudden I wouldn't know an interesting thing if a clown was shooting my dog on St. Patrick's day. Thankfully, there's a website that has interesting topics to view, and probably converse about. "interestingtopics.org."
First off, I want to point out that it's a ".org" site. Which doesn't mean anything other than someone paid for that domain name, but already I feel more comfortable learning from it. If it were a ".net" website I'd probably have to avert my eyes from the ridiculous popping colors and GIFs.((Note, this is based on how I feel, not reality. As is pretty much everything I write, FYI.))
Secondly, it really does have a lot of interesting topics, that you can see right away! After scrolling down past the first few I didn't care about I saw, "Liquid Water May Exist On Mars." Golly?! Are they for serious? With a headline taking a strong stance like that, I don't know what could be more interesting. So, that implies that there is definitely water. Obviously. But some of it, and I quote, "may" be liquid. I don't even know where to start with how interesting that is. I'm going to go get my interest-a-meter and see what it says.
BATSHIT INTERESTING!
((That is to say, as interesting as batshit. Which is to say, unless it's in my cup of drinking water, or maybe on my bed, probably irrelevant.)) I know, some of you science nerds are super plussed about the idea of water and its implications in respect to other life forms. But, that's similar to looking for a bear, and saying you found berries in a forest that a bear could live off of.((Wait... bears eat berries? I bet they're beary good, aren't they you widdle beary wary wears?)) Interestingly enough, that doesn't actually mean anything.
Oh! I remember something interesting, the weather! Let's talk about that.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Curious
I sometimes ponder things. Though I realize I've never oceaner'd. In LA I hear they laker, but I've only ever pondered, myself.((That last sentence would be way more narcissistic without that comma.)) Some thoughts keep me up at night. Wondering about how much more terrified the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles would be, were they made out of paper? The Shredder would be the end of them.
I also wonder about the housing market crash. Was there every a DUI investigation? Can amateurs get athlete's foot? Is the plural of mouse "call the exterminators?"
Some people, minus Cthulu and company, just don't go as deep as I do. Sure, you'll scratch the surface of gorilla glass products, but will you burn them with a fire cracking jokes sensible meatball fishing tack phony gall stove whale jaghole until it's baser elements are known? I would bet money that you're not even sure if that's something you do or not. Sure you've got the sense that it's disgusting, but you can't say with any modicum of certainty that you abstain completely. For all you know you may be "wilting the wombats" as they say.
I beg of you. Nay, I beg of you. Think about what you're saying, doing, wearing and why. Don't passively consume, but rather inspect. When the wombats seem wilty, water them.
I also wonder about the housing market crash. Was there every a DUI investigation? Can amateurs get athlete's foot? Is the plural of mouse "call the exterminators?"
Some people, minus Cthulu and company, just don't go as deep as I do. Sure, you'll scratch the surface of gorilla glass products, but will you burn them with a fire cracking jokes sensible meatball fishing tack phony gall stove whale jaghole until it's baser elements are known? I would bet money that you're not even sure if that's something you do or not. Sure you've got the sense that it's disgusting, but you can't say with any modicum of certainty that you abstain completely. For all you know you may be "wilting the wombats" as they say.
I beg of you. Nay, I beg of you. Think about what you're saying, doing, wearing and why. Don't passively consume, but rather inspect. When the wombats seem wilty, water them.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Looking
Recently, I was urinating. As a man, I'm going to be honest, sometimes I miss the toilet. Usually only after 3:00am when I've been drinking. We were just together for so long. Anyways, I was in a public bathroom.
The number I called from the bathroom stall did not provide a good time. There was apparently a perceived, but actually, non-typo, and the number, after being reached, did persist on preaching the values of one Yahweh. ((Careful now. That last sentence may send you into a commatose state.)) Though the man on the other line did seem quite educated about the ways of the Lord. He asked if I wanted to share in his recently acquired Jolly Ranchers. I stated that I would have them divided up as the divine would see fit. He ate all of them, threw the box on the ground and stomped on it all the while talking to someone I am not sure was there.((At least, that's what I assumed was happening. It is tough to say from only hearing the events over the phone.)) One cannot understand the methods of the Lord.
After that I went to the sink and washed my hands. At this point a woman walked up and began washing her hands. After a moment of confused silence she screamed and ran out of the bathroom. I'm sure she was rightly embarrassed. I dried my hands on paper towels, as the air from the bathroom is dirty, and I didn't want to blown with force unto my being.
Upon my exit from the bathroom, there was a security guard waiting for me. Apparently in this land it is improper to utilize the bathroom of the other sex, particularly if you're naked. I tried explaining that I was just hoping for a good time, though I fear the guard misunderstood, as I was forcibly removed to an awaiting cop car, and have since been waiting in a small cell. Not a small cell in the biological sense, as that would be physically impossible. A small cell in the Bruno-Is-Quite-Interested-In-Showing-Me-That-Good-Time-I-Was-Looking-For sense. I had my suspicions that the police officer knew of Bruno's desires and placed me there without accident. I ask you to remember that one man's good time is another man's jail cell.
The number I called from the bathroom stall did not provide a good time. There was apparently a perceived, but actually, non-typo, and the number, after being reached, did persist on preaching the values of one Yahweh. ((Careful now. That last sentence may send you into a commatose state.)) Though the man on the other line did seem quite educated about the ways of the Lord. He asked if I wanted to share in his recently acquired Jolly Ranchers. I stated that I would have them divided up as the divine would see fit. He ate all of them, threw the box on the ground and stomped on it all the while talking to someone I am not sure was there.((At least, that's what I assumed was happening. It is tough to say from only hearing the events over the phone.)) One cannot understand the methods of the Lord.
After that I went to the sink and washed my hands. At this point a woman walked up and began washing her hands. After a moment of confused silence she screamed and ran out of the bathroom. I'm sure she was rightly embarrassed. I dried my hands on paper towels, as the air from the bathroom is dirty, and I didn't want to blown with force unto my being.
Upon my exit from the bathroom, there was a security guard waiting for me. Apparently in this land it is improper to utilize the bathroom of the other sex, particularly if you're naked. I tried explaining that I was just hoping for a good time, though I fear the guard misunderstood, as I was forcibly removed to an awaiting cop car, and have since been waiting in a small cell. Not a small cell in the biological sense, as that would be physically impossible. A small cell in the Bruno-Is-Quite-Interested-In-Showing-Me-That-Good-Time-I-Was-Looking-For sense. I had my suspicions that the police officer knew of Bruno's desires and placed me there without accident. I ask you to remember that one man's good time is another man's jail cell.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Descriptions
I was recently reminded of how easily I fall in love. Love gravity around me is just higher, it pulls me down faster. I remember, it was summer 2011. There was a girl.
She was outside on her cigarette break. Like, this chick was smokin'. It was smack dab in the middle of July, so I mean. This girl was hot. I was already in love. She was into math like me.((Not that I'm math, but that I also enjoy it)) Angles specifically. A cute girl like that doesn't come around every day. Sadly, she was smoking very close to the building, so someone called the fire marshal. I mean, she was fined.
We went to a circus. I told her some carney jokes. You know the ones. The ones about cannibals eating clowns, when they ask if it tastes awful? Or, "what's the difference between a bearded lady and a bud light?" "Bearded ladies won't make you believe bud light is a good beer."
After that she got a call and started to act funny. Like Jim Carey, but without the timing. She left after that. I never saw her again, but that won't change the fact that I loved her. Only a quarter through my life and I was changed. People say experiences like that are a dime a dozen. I only needed the one.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Agreement to Party
THIS AGREEMENT is being made 02/01/2012 valid through forever, so long as Tommy and Ray (hereinafter referred to as "the party dudes.") continue to reside in apartment 6a on the second floor. This agreement is applicable to all current and future residents(hereinafter referred to as "total lamers.") of the A block apartments at Shady Drugs apartment complex.
Herein and forthwith the "the party dudes" shall be, occasionally, referred to as "a rip roarin' good time."
A rip roarin' good time's 6a apartment is the only applicable location for any party, excepting the following conditions or a written and signed contract(napkin) provided by either of the party dudes themselves, and not any other actual or assumed resident of 6a.:
Acceptability of Provided Booze
Unless clearly stated as a Bring Your Own Beer(BYOB) party, the residents of 6a shall provide at least or the equivalent to one(1) keg per 50 party attendees up to 100 and an additional one(1) keg per the next 100 party attendees, not to exceed three(3) kegs through the course of one night. The hosts of said party will also, at their sole discretion, to be decided upon only after 10:00pm and before 1:00am decide to go on a pizza/beer run. The party dudes may charge men anywhere from $3-$5 to gain a one time non-transferable entry into the party. No girl shall be charged, nor allowed to produce funds for someone she is with, even if it is her significant other, as if her significant other can't drum up the money themselves, she should find a better other inside apartment 6a, both of the party dudes are "single."
Concurrency with Other Parties
If for some reason 6a is completely full a total lamer may host the overflow of said party if they had in writing at least two weeks prior their wish to have a party of their own. If any gathering of friends among total lamers is above 10 people and there are no XboXs present it is considered a party. Without written approval from a rip roarin' good time, these shall immediately have the cops called on them and pot(marijuana) will be left in a conspicuous space. Except for the above stated situations no party may be thrown by any total lamer.
Applicable and Acceptable Insults
Shall any members attending said events come into want of fisticuffs they may exchange the following insults provided that they are both i. reasonably drunk, so as to avoid remembering the next day. ii. standing near a girl or guy that both members are trying to impress. iii. ridiculous twits who wouldn't know a zinger if they had just been zung, even to the point of requiring future medical treatment based on the severity of said insult. Meeting those circumstances these people may state,
"Yo Momma's so fat that she can't even listen to Slim Shady."
"If I had a dime for every skank I saw at this party, I'd punch you in the junk."
"If it were stylish to be ugly you'd be the prom queen."
Your signature, or lack of signature implies without exception and fundamentally that you have read and accept the polices stated in this document. If you do not wish to incur legal fees, or general snobbishness from the party dudes, just hang out at their party and don't try anything funny.
Herein and forthwith the "the party dudes" shall be, occasionally, referred to as "a rip roarin' good time."
A rip roarin' good time's 6a apartment is the only applicable location for any party, excepting the following conditions or a written and signed contract(napkin) provided by either of the party dudes themselves, and not any other actual or assumed resident of 6a.:
Acceptability of Provided Booze
Unless clearly stated as a Bring Your Own Beer(BYOB) party, the residents of 6a shall provide at least or the equivalent to one(1) keg per 50 party attendees up to 100 and an additional one(1) keg per the next 100 party attendees, not to exceed three(3) kegs through the course of one night. The hosts of said party will also, at their sole discretion, to be decided upon only after 10:00pm and before 1:00am decide to go on a pizza/beer run. The party dudes may charge men anywhere from $3-$5 to gain a one time non-transferable entry into the party. No girl shall be charged, nor allowed to produce funds for someone she is with, even if it is her significant other, as if her significant other can't drum up the money themselves, she should find a better other inside apartment 6a, both of the party dudes are "single."
Concurrency with Other Parties
If for some reason 6a is completely full a total lamer may host the overflow of said party if they had in writing at least two weeks prior their wish to have a party of their own. If any gathering of friends among total lamers is above 10 people and there are no XboXs present it is considered a party. Without written approval from a rip roarin' good time, these shall immediately have the cops called on them and pot(marijuana) will be left in a conspicuous space. Except for the above stated situations no party may be thrown by any total lamer.
Applicable and Acceptable Insults
Shall any members attending said events come into want of fisticuffs they may exchange the following insults provided that they are both i. reasonably drunk, so as to avoid remembering the next day. ii. standing near a girl or guy that both members are trying to impress. iii. ridiculous twits who wouldn't know a zinger if they had just been zung, even to the point of requiring future medical treatment based on the severity of said insult. Meeting those circumstances these people may state,
"Yo Momma's so fat that she can't even listen to Slim Shady."
"If I had a dime for every skank I saw at this party, I'd punch you in the junk."
"If it were stylish to be ugly you'd be the prom queen."
Your signature, or lack of signature implies without exception and fundamentally that you have read and accept the polices stated in this document. If you do not wish to incur legal fees, or general snobbishness from the party dudes, just hang out at their party and don't try anything funny.
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