Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The Art of Making Lemonade Out of Liver

there will be no resting on laurels here.

all vacations must come to an end. they have to. or else they’d be called life.

i'm not sure kids should be allowed on airplanes. i understand this might be a better alternative to driving kids for their parents, but i'm not certain my ear drums will ever be the same.

i am now only announcing our imminent death to the passengers within ear shot. i feel this is an improvement over my previous behavior of screaming it to the entire plane.

i hate sitting by the engine. i don't want to be the first to know when it falls off the plane...

there are some people who should not be allowed on boats. mainly because the urge to push them over the railing it too strong.

the plane does not have room to accommodate your plant.

i hate the smell of desperation.

i would like to be paid. just, because.

don't fart in elevators.

sometimes i wish i were a kid again, if only to walk around disney dressed as “belle.”

i've always wanted to be a part of a festive brouhaha.

i might be too insecure for social networking.

who left the scotch out?

i cannot offer proof of life.

don't tell me i can't do something. i don't want to have to go through the trouble to prove you wrong. i'm too damn lazy.

i never do my hair. i just wash it, wake up, and hope for the best.

i happen to excel at doing nothing.

if you happen to see it, please return it.

i will never understand michael vicks.

i will also never understand mike tyson, but he has that whole lisp, high-pitched voice thing to contend with.

i love hearing about people's shit. just not from the people themselves. they always give their drama a positive spin.

i've been thinking about growing out my bangs, but then i'd have to face my forehead every morning.

sometimes i don't have that satisfied feeling that comes from accomplishing something huge.

does that mean it wasn’t huge after all?

while i do not have anything of any particular value, today i am finding myself particularly territorial over my desk.

lost in translation. translated into french.

sometimes i fear i have become invisible.



can you even read this?


i managed to make it 4 days on a slippery wet boat, wearing slippery flip flops, and not slip one single time. however, in tennis shoes, on land and in sunshine i manage to slip at least 4 times. touché sneakers.

the louder the horn, the slower i move.

i have been working very hard to not do one single thing. so far, so good.

disney in the rain, is still disney.

why does beer taste so damn good?

if you're bored, than you're boring. or at least, you're probably boring to me.

finding seltzer in the south is like finding jesus in your toast, highly unlikely and extremely suspect.

(My apologizes to Jesus if he has, in fact, appeared in toast.)

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

The Art of Catching Fly Balls with Your Fly Down

nothing says "hit me" like a "baby on board" car decal.

i think shopping for bathing suits has to be one of the most horrific experiences women have to endure. worse than roller coasters. i just don't understand why dressing rooms have to have mirrors...or lights...

i'm feeling unproductive.

i don't get fashion. didn't the 80's already happen?

you wanna hit me, hit me, you wanna leave, there's the door, i honestly don't give a shit anymore.

do you ever find yourself stressing about getting a project done at work and then find yourself wondering why? the only thing that lies at the end of this project is another more annoying project, and so you play bejeweled instead? no? me either.

i am doing something stupid in 17 days. fingers crossed.

i hate writing "matthew" i always feel weird crossing the "t's" do you cross with one line? but there is two t's - is it fair to the other t? but two lines look to avoid the whole situation.

i like being a bit crass every now and then, but there is a time and place.

the art isn't in the photograph, but in the taking of the photograph.

and i wonder, still i wonder, who stopped the rain?

who's train is that?

i had a doctor that once thought i was being abused. when i used to be vegan, i bruised really easily. like, touch my arm and it would bruise kinda bruising. so i had some marks on my arms and he was worried. sweet of him yes, but completely unnecessary. i was like, honestly, if someone hit me, everyone would know about it. i would never shut up about it. i would probably have t-shirts made and try to get a book deal out of the incident....and, if we are being completely realistic here, there is a good chance that person would be far worse off than i. i may be tiny, but i'm scrappy.

let this be a warning to you all.

how do you know if you're annoying someone?

i hate photographic evidence.

i smell doom. it smells like burped up apple juice.

how many scales are too many scales?

i need someone else to do my shopping.

go see star trek. i am in love with spock. just sayin'

vegas. ve-gas. veg-ass. vague ass.

i am about to be touched by some guys hot dog. no, that is not a sex euphemism. literally. this guy is now touching me with his hot dog. a fucking hot fucking dog.

I wish my stomach and my mouth could agree on what they want to eat.

people who know baseball stats freak me out. I fucking love the game, don't get me wrong, but knowing who pitched a no-hitter in 1987 does not impress or even interest me. now, if you wanna have a chat about santana...i can go all night...and i have...sorry for that.

i guess i just lost my seat in the trivia night bowl.

i think i have been listening to too much baseball. i am now announcing my routine in my head as i prepare for work as if it was a METS at bat...."and she stops at her drawers, what is she gunna choose, will it be the red shirt? that one sometimes bunches up and has been giving her a problem, or will she go with the blue shirt. now that blue shirt has been worn 4 times out of the last 20 days, so that shirt has very high odds. looks like she made a decision....and it's...THE BLUE SHIRT! OHMYGOD SHE CHOOSE THE BLUE SHIRT!!! this one is sure to be a crowd, that was pretty intense!"

i need a life.

what's with women who carry victoria's secret pink shopping bags around with them everywhere? are we supposed to be impressed that you got 5 panties for $20 at some point? and if so, why must you keep informing the world? is this to illicit a sexual response? it actually elicits more of a gagging response in me.

umm even though you can't see my eyes behind my shades, i can see yours. stop staring.

there are people i would do anything for. there are people i would do anything for as long as it gets them to leave.

the difference is in the word.

look, i don't like heights. i am short. short people are used to being closer to the ground and when i am off the ground, i miss it. plus, short people have farther to fall when the roller coaster goes flying off the tracks.

i will not be blogging next week as i will be on a cruise. it's ok to be jealous. i am jealous of me too. minus the annoying problem of having to go shopping for summer clothing, which makes me want to grab my cozy sweaters and head to alaska - anyhoo.... an apology, and just because i think everyone needs to see this, may i present to you, for your viewing pleasure....(headphones people - there are f bombs...but mucho worth it)


Wednesday, May 6, 2009

The Art of Doing the Hokey Pokey...

..and not turning yourself about, damnit!

i would like to come to fisticuffs now please.

it's not cyberstalking it's called being curious to a dangerous degree.

it's hard to play hooky when you're already there.

ok people, fess up, who made out with the swine?

the "best damn sports show" top 50 best plays ever, just made me tear up a bit.

once again, i have surprised everyone by behaving exactly as i always have.

i am so mysterious.

i am sure i am forgetting something important here.

i doubt i will live up to anyone's low expectations.

best thing about national pandemic? one cough gets you more room on the subway.

also, those surgical face masks are ridiculous. i saw a woman in a black dress and pearls wearing one this morning. it made my day.

the spark of creation feels an awful lot like heartburn.

if you are talking out loud to someone for more than 5 minutes, and you have gotten no response, perhaps your next course of action should be to shut the fuck up!

wow. seems like somebody is already drunk.

you are so irritating you make my hair follicles hurt.

people always say don't live life with regret, but regret tastes so much like chocolate, i find it hard to let go.

i want to make this blog more of a collaborative one. insert your own joke here. hope you feel better now.

i love TV nerds.

i'm cheating on you with baseball.

it is a challenge to keep stroking the egos of those in the wrong.

while i like to stand during the national anthem, i don't see how having a cold head will show respect to my country.

especially if you get a look at the bad hair day that is happening underneath most hats. in some cases, perhaps more respect could be had if the hats were kept on.

you can repeat yourself as many time as you like, but until you tell me what you actually need, i will be unable to assist you.

i think taking allergy medicine, tylenol pm and valium must be what being inside a bubble feels like.

never joke with a man in a suit.

you're not the boss of me.

i am always half-way to gone.

and remember kids, when in doubt, bite someone.