I haven’t written dick in a long time, and I can’t for the life of me come up with any ideas for stories. I can, however, bore the 5 people who read my posts with a stream of consciousness deal, because that’s all I can produce right now. Buckle up, because safety is what’s really most important.
I am a bump on a log today. But hey, who says all bumps on logs are bad? What if I’m the cool, hip bump on the log? If I were a bump on a log, I’d want to be the one that gets all the turtles to come chill by it. “What’s that turtle? You need a place to bask in the sun? Come right on over here, friend, I’ve got a spot for you.” That’s what I’d say. No, I think being a bump on a log could be an enviable position. I mean you just chill all day, and think of the job security. I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure they don’t get replaced.
I just ate some Peach fat-free yogurt. In doing so I made sure I reached the low part of my day early on. It can only get better from here. Seriously though, if you haven’t had Spartan brand fat-free Peach yogurt, you’re missing out on all sorts of bad experiences. Not that I have a problem with yogurt. Or peaches. I like them both. Just not together, and especially not fat free. It’s like hey, I like the environment, and hey, I like naked women, but both of them together would be a lot to handle. I’m not gay; far from it (but I guess if you are that’s cool too?). If one day while you’re walking through the woods a naked stranger charges at you and you don’t get a little freaked out, I don’t think it’d be a great idea that we hang out. But I try not to judge, so whatever floats your boat I guess. Scratch that, if you’re one of the afore-mentioned people, I would love to hang out with you for a day, because you’re probably pretty emotionally solid. I mean that incident would get me thinking. Why, on this lovely day, would a woman feel the need to run around starkers? And why is she targeting me? Serious questions that maybe you could answer.
This is stream of consciousness, and would be a great way to get to know me. I mean you’re only getting a little snapshot of yours truly, but I think it kinda reflects my oddities and sense of humor pretty well. I always want to spell “humour,” but it always gets spell-checked. I like that extra “U” for some reason. Anyway, if you’re reading this and even enjoying it a little bit, I think we can have a great Facebook relationship. You can like my photos and maybe even start a chat once or twice. I’m just kidding, I don’t use chat. But I was kidding about the whole thing. Unless you thought that was cool, in which case I was being really serious. Friend me.
I’m supposed to be doing homework right now, but it’s for a class that’s taught by a fat woman with a mean disposition and a lisp, so I decided I’m not really going to put much effort into that at the moment. She’s a redhead too. Not that I don’t like redheads or anything, I’m just trying to give you all an accurate description of this woman. Unbiased: she has a lisp, is overweight, wears red shirts once a week, and sports some really shitty Skechers Shape-Ups. She looks like a goddamn tomato, I’m sorry, but it’s true. And I don’t give a shit who you get to endorse your products Skechers; Jesus Christ could be doing a two-step in some Shape-Ups; I still won’t buy them. Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t want ugly space boots strapped to my feet in public (I don’t think it’s just me though).
I went over to my neighbor’s the other day with my roommates. We tried hanging out with them at the beginning of the year but they’re honestly just weird people. Then again, so are we. Maybe we’re the weird people; I don’t really know. But they mentioned something about being really loud on nights before they have to get up and work like it’s our fault. Yes, I understand that it’s our fault for being loud, but how are we supposed to know when you work? Maybe if you had supplemented some sort of work schedule at the beginning of the year, we could have worked around being rambunctious on those days, but it’s almost the end of the year, so good luck getting us to be quiet.
My roommate just blew his nose really loud. I mean it sounded like a French horn.
Have you ever dreamed something and then tried it the next day only to realize your dreams lied to you? I did that the other day. I was dreaming about something, can’t remember what, and then all of a sudden this sandwich burst into my thoughts. It was like an infomercial, and dammit they sold that shit. Here are the ingredients:
Now let me say that I am not an idiot. I know that these are gross. But let me tell you something – in my dream, this was delicious. I mean I was having the time of my life eating this sandwich. I was, however, brought back to reality by the nastiness of the first bite in actual life. It is disgusting. Oh man, if I could do what those guys in Interception did with the dreams, I would mess with everyone. I’d be all, “Hey, I want you to dream about how awesome a hot dog smoothie would be so you try it tomorrow.” And then they’d try it, and BAM! What a shitty breakfast!
If there’s one life lesson that I’ve learned from movies, it’s that painting a room with a woman will be one of the worst experiences of my life. Not necessarily the literal painting per se, but the entire process; choosing colors, going to Home Depot, dealing with her shit, etc. I was joking about the last part but come on, what the hell do I care that one shade of yellow is “Carnation” and the exact same one from a different company is “Sunburst?” I really hope my life gets to a point where the most important issue is “Carnation or Sunburst,” because then my life will be really easy. “Shit Adam, I don’t know how I’m going to pay my Water bill this month.” “Yea I here you, the wife’s getting on my ass about choosing a color for the dining room ceiling.”
I was watching TV the other day and this kid’s name was “Antijuan.” Okay, first, what the hell? Second, I thought about the kind of encounters this guy might have with all the guys named “Juan” out there. That must be awkward. There’s probably some unwritten rule somewhere that he is morally obligated to fight anyone named “Juan” he comes across. Then it got me thinking about the underlying messages his parents might have wanted to send. I’m pretty sure they’re against illegal immigration.
So that was my brain for an hour, hope you enjoyed it! Follow me on Twitter @himynameis_adam if you want to be bothered with stupid jokes! I’d love feedback as well, because someone other than my mom needs to tell me how dumb I’m getting or I’ll keep it up, you bastards.