Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Art of Faking Friendships with Farting Foes

you know, there are no super heroes that turn into hippos.

i find it hard to believe that there are that many messy painters in the world. there must be a clothing line.

am i to assume you're unassuming?

i'm over people with faux eating disorders.

if you want to feel good about yourself, step on the scale after you take a gigantic poop.

our relationship has been nothing more than horrible photos and 50% off love.

sir, if my penis were that small, i certainly would not be showing it around manhattan.

i choose not to acknowledge my left pinkie toe.

it's a personal decision. it usually is.

i tried to paint my nails with red nail polish. now it looks like I have been finger painting in blood.

i fail as a girl.

this week in jenna theatre. the scene - a large empty room in a temple. the players - only jenna and an older gentleman. the incident - a loud fart. the question - who did it?

i met a girl tonight who wears a size 10 shoe. i know what they say about men and shoe size, but what do they say about women?

most people loose iq points when they drink. not me, i start speaking like like einstein and nietzsche's fucking scrabble board.

it's serendipitous.

put that in your pipe and smoke it.

when i see someone talking to a crazy person, i think to myself, what is that he's doing, doesn't he know that person is crazy?

i'll say this for them, there are a shit-load of port-o-potties.

i always thought i'd marry to keep someone in the country.

my ID, already?

i often have the words to say, i don't have the words.

cutting your toenails at work is disgusting. i don't create excel spreadsheets in your bedroom, now do i?

i find it confusing when i see people carrying huge dictionaries around. does anyone really have a need for that many words, that quickly? there has to be a better way, or a smaller size.

some people have sex phone voices. the guy behind me sounds like a cross between kathleen turner and harvey firestein and the combo is making his conversation about surgery and blood work, sound like a dirty proposition.

books smell like home. unless somebody pukes on them. then they just smell like puke.

i offered to help an old man carry his 3 large suitcases down and then up some stairs. he said "i bet you'd like that, wouldn't you."

i love wife beaters.

the tank top. not the criminal.

it is amazing how many things sound like euphemisms for poop.


Meya said...

HA HA! I love it! It's hard to comment and try to remember all of the funny things - there are many. I want to follow you around for a week and see these things happening around you. So, funny.

Jocelyn said...

why were you in a temple? That guy didn't want help with the suitcases up the stairs? whaat?

blackstocks said...

Yay! Another joyous Wednesday blog! They seem to get better and better every time. That line about Einstein and Nietzsche was brilliant...did you write it while drunk?

I love how I find out (through the reading of your blog) that I am not the only one who does some of these things. My first stop after any poop is the scale...sometimes to feel good about myself and sometimes just because i am curious as to how much my poop weighs.

You are the best! Never stop writing.

PunkRockRunner said...


Back in the day, I considered myself a "liquid genius" too.

I love reading this stuff, you have such a great outlook on your surroundings and you're super funny. Of course, it helps to have a sense of humor, what with the Mets and all. ;-)

Have a great weekend!

Lauren said...

I like what you did with the words here-this has a great rhythm to it, and I know that is really hard to achieve!

And I get smarter when I drink too...ha!