Q. If you were my USB drive, where would you be hiding?
A. Somewhere so obvious that I should have looked there months ago.
And if the files on it are any indication, I must have hid it sometime in the spring of 2005.
But now I have it, and I can carry out my evil plans.
Now if only I could find all the other crap that my house has apparently eaten.
This morning, I injured my flip-off finger.
(Aside: Last week, a coworker raised her index finger and asked me, “This is called your forefinger, right?” I answered yes. A few seconds later she laughed, held up her middle finger and asked, “So what’s this one?” “That’s the flip-off finger.” “Good to know.”)
Anyway. I did a stupid thing, the kind of stupid thing that you don’t see coming, and then after it happens, you think, “How did that even happen?”
And then part of my fingernail was missing. I don’t even know where it went. It was that stupid. And more painful than I expected.
So I guess it’s good that I didn’t need to flip anyone off today.
“Private funds” or not, $90k is too much to spend picking a font for our university’s initials.
We have the stupidest bureaucrats money can buy. And it sure does take a lot of money to buy them, too.
Next we’ll hear they’re spending long hours picking out the best shade of blue to print our new logo in. Wait, they already did. And those funds actually did come from taxpayers’ and students’ wallets. Excellent.
Today, while cooking, I invented a GENIUS NEW WAY to cut cantaloupe. And I am NOT TELLING HOW because it is my TRADE SECRET.
In other related news, I think someone drugged me because I have been stoned all day long and I’m pretty sure I didn’t take anything on purpose. This happens every few months, too. So to whoever’s been drugging me, thanks. It totally made my day. You know, besides the cantaloupe thing.
Okay. So I was all excited about getting a moped. A shiny, new moped. A sleek, black moped. A moped that all the other students could mock, but secretly envy, as they do whenever they see a moped on campus.
But, damn, my moped sucks ass. It doesn’t go as fast as the others. It’s not as fancy as the others. It can’t make it up the hill as easily as the others. It does not enduce jealousy like the others.
I have killer moped envy. I never got that way about my car. My car sucked major ass, but I was damn proud of Big Blue.
Perhaps I need to give the moped a cool name. Like Killer.
Yeah, if I was riding around on something called Killer, I’d feel more badass, uh, right?
Hmm. Perhaps this is just a manifestation of my Freudian penis envy.
So I’m walking through the dining room to go wash my dishes and I notice one of my housemates wearing an interesting shirt.
On the front, it reads: “I reek…”
So I’m thinking, ha ha, she reeks. That’s funny.
Then on the back, it reads: “…of the HOLY SPIRIT.”
And I’m thinking, no, she doesn’t reek. She sucks.
I mean, if you’re going to come up with a totally lame t-shirt…I don’t know. Just don’t wear it around me.
I hurt my finger bowling. And I bowled pretty badly.
My father asked me to take some videos back to Blockbuster. When I refused, he asked why.
“I can’t! I hurt my finger bowling last night! And it’s my driving finger.”
I am sad he didn’t ask why I only use one finger to drive because I’m sure I’d have made up some hilarious bullshit logic for it.
I’ve been thinking that
it would be way awesome if
Al Gore was my dad
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