The Art of Prime Numbers and Prosthetic Limbs

does anyone know what i want to be when i grow up?

don't let the boobs fool you, i'm not there yet.

personal space is at a prime rate.

i'm a fan of prime numbers, but i hate prime rib.

doesn't calling something prime really give you some high expectations?

i think i've performed beyond what one could have hoped for.

does that make me a prime target?

or the prime suspect?

either way, i didn't touch the donuts in the kitchen.

don't ask me, my opinion of you is less than flattering.

i dislike the word flatter.

the world would be a flatter place without you.

don't flatter me with empty words.

i'm already flat enough.

while i'm grateful we know the earth is round, wouldn't it be a bit more fun if it was flat?

if the world was flat, would people fall off?

it would give a whole new meaning to i’d go to the end of the world and back for you.

i hate when i find someone who says they learned english by watching tv.

i've watched a lot of spanish soap operas in my day and i've yet to learn anything beyond caliente, which i already knew due to my love of mexican food.

i love a mom who reads the new york times to her kids on the morning commute.

it's amazing how not humorous the paper can be.

some people's feet should never see the light of day.

to the person currently reading over my shoulder, i'm talking about you.

i'll do any diet you suggest, as long as it's main element is vodka.

after last night, i'd rather not say.

this week in jenna theater, jenna is walking to the bar to meet up with her friends when she encounters a woman, screaming at the top of her lungs into the phone in a voice that sounds like she is possessed by the devil. naturally, jenna slows down to hear.
woman - you are costing me 80 dollars, (nasty) i hope you're happy. (pause) i didn't want to go out! you forced this upon me! you forced this upon me! i wanted to go home and you forced this upon me. (pause) no, you did this. you will show up and you will be pleasant about it. or so help me god! (notices jenna looking at her) what the HELL are you looking at?
jenna - (smiles, points to the woman and waves)
woman - (on the phone) and now people are staring at me, beacuse of you!I DO NOT SOUND CRAZY!
jenna - (smiles and nodds) yeah, ya kind of do...

that is a prime example of someone who should never be allowed a cell phone.

(on a personal note, heroes come in all walks of life. one of mine crossed the line against all odds and gave me something to believe in. well done, ironman.)

The Art of Failing to Climb Up to Your Potential

on a slow day, you can see forever.

a slow day is always made slower by the presence of muzak.

knowing chekov doesn't make you awesome, it makes you either a liar or dead.

or maybe a psychic.

now accepting donations.

don't you forget about me!

or forget.

do what feels right.

you can't make the situation right if you keep insisting i'm wrong.

i'd rather be wrong loudly than right softly.

i'm not sure you even know what i’m talking about anymore.

i hate that i know what sun baked urine smells like.

you have to love nyc in the summertime.

the city invents new ways to smell bad.

i wish my sense of smell wasn’t stronger than my sense of direction.

i wish i had a sense of direction.

oh well, it’s not like i’m a good enough driver for that to matter.

i will always give notice.

you are on notice.

it’s hard to remain unnoticed in a gold unitard.

or, things i learned at summer camp.

i always get emotional around this time of the month.

but i think everyone does.

who doesn’t love payday?

it’s amazing how many different radio stations can play the same exact religious music when you’re driving cross country.

what kind of wednesday is it where there is no beer?

this week in jenna theatre, while waiting for tall boy to come back to the storage unit, jenna is sitting on a cart to keep cool. a woman in a rush comes in and gets in the elevator. a few moments later she gets back out.
woman – what’s the code to go upstairs?
jenna – i have no idea. sorry.
woman – you don’t know the code to go upstairs?
jenna – no. sorry.
woman - you don't know it?
jenna – no
woman – really.
jenna – no. i have no idea.
woman – so, you don’t know the code?
jenna – oh, to get up stairs?
woman – yes!
jenna – no.

i may not have a sense of direction, but some things will never escape my notice.

something’s wrong here.

if your waitress has less teeth than items on the menu, maybe you should consider a change of dinner plans.

words to live by.

The Art of Playing Chicken with Children

you say you cleaned up, i say you hid my shit.

seriously.

where is my shit?

you can never go wrong with bacon.

sometimes in random situations i just shout out “bacon!”

it always seems like a good idea at the time.

there is something beautiful about hearing 'hotel california' sung with a lisp.

i had an urge.

it passed.

i root for who's ever hottest.

is that wrong?

i’m always on the wrong side of right, which makes me wrong.

which is a bit too redundant for a wednesday morning.

two wrongs don’t make a right, but three lefts make a right.

is that right?

i’m terrible with directions.

i usually just tell people to turn on my side, turn on your side.

i don’t always have time to make the “L” with my fingers.

in nyc you can’t make a right on red.

packing your belongs is a strange thing.

i found i have 20 staplers and a large amount of socks.

i didn’t know i had such strong stapling needs.

actually i don’t think i have ever stapled at home ever.

i don’t even think those staplers are mine.

i think somebody must have come into my house and placed them there without my knowledge.

i‘m just sayin’

i think i’m allergic to work.

not doing work, but the actual building i work in.

sidewalk sharing is a lost art.

sidewalk crashing is an art i’ve perfected.

punctuation is a thing of the past.

bacon!

it’s never a free pass. there is always some cost.

just like there is never forgiveness.

never pass an opportunity to make it right.

especially if you fucked with me.

this week in jenna theatre, jenna is on the subway heading into work. a younger couple is standing against the door with their headphones on and their music playing so loud those around can understand the lyrics.
boy - (shouting to speak over his music) i don’t understand why you won’t come over tonight!
girl – (also shouting) i just don’t think this is a good idea!
boy – why not!?
girl – i mean, i like you and everything, but i’m not exactly sure that this will go anywhere!
boy – i don’t understand...last night you were thinking about moving in with me, and now you don’t want to be with me anymore!?
girl – i know, i wanted to tell you last night at the bar, but then i got drunk and you know how i get when I’m drinking!
boy – is that why you came over last night!?
girl – i didn’t want to go all the way back to brookyln!
boy – i can’t believe you’re breaking up with me!
girl – i’m sorry! (pause) i can’t do this anymore!
boy – i can’t believe you’re doing this to me!
man – (standing next to jenna shouts out) we all can! now shut the fuck up!

ahhh, young love at the highest volume.

the soundtrack of our lives.

makes me feel like a kid again.

The Art of Forgetting to Spell Check

you can always find the truth in a long goodbye.

you say goodbye, i say get the fuck away from me.

it might be a good buy but you should at least shop around.

i’ve been around the block.

it’s pretty uneventful.

unless there’s a block party, which is rare.

party in the usa!

damn you teen pop stars for being so catchy.

i prefer my punk, but it’s hard to pull off when you don’t wear the clothes.

clothes make the man look like a fool.

i hate socks.

i mean in practice i love them (who wants to run around with sweaty feet?) but i hate socks because there are too many rules.

i hate when my clothes have rules.

no white socks with black shoes.

fuck you, i’m wearing it.

you shouldn’t wear high socks with shorts.

why not? maybe my legs are cold.

no white before labor day.

no. wait.

after labor day?

don’t even get me started on belts.

i guess i’ll just always be a jeans and t-shirt kinda girl.

or a popped collar kinda guy.

the two are quite interchangeable.

change is good, or so people say.

i say ride the wave.

wave goodbye, sometime things will never be the same.

but as they say, catch a wave and your sittin on top of the world, although i bet the astronauts would beg to differ.

this week in jenna theatre jenna and her friend rocky were trying to order drinks at a bar in chicago.
rocky – we’d like 2 diet cokes, a stella, a miller lite and a seltzer.
(the guy goes and pours two beers and two diet cokes)
jenna – can i also get a seltzer? (blank look from the bartender) soda water?
bartender – (pointing at the diet coke) you wanted soda?
rocky – right, no this is right, but we also wanted a seltzer.
bartender – (goes to the soda machine and comes back) you wanted a beer and a seltzer?
jenna – right, i got the beer, i just also want a seltzer.
bartender –(looking frustrated) i’m sorry, but how do you want me to make it?
jenna – ummm…just pour it in a glass?
bartender – oh, not together?
rocky – oh no! not together, we don’t want them together!
bartender – oh....

you can find joy in the bottom of a glass.

i would be the worst self-help guru.

i mean, i’d be an awesome guru, and who doesn’t want to be a guru?

but maybe just not in the helping you kind of way.

most my advice would revolve around bacon.