Valentine’s Day


Valentine’s day is an aristocratic, authoritative holiday designed by imbeciles in stained white stockings with a hole in the knee.

This hole in the knee represents the hole in their hearts that they attempt to fill with a meaningless, corporation driven holiday every February that includes spending ridiculous amounts of money at Jared’s, just to come home and present an incorrectly sized ring to your gold digger ex wife who for some reason still lives with you.  You walk into the living room of your 5 bedroom, rundown apartment to find her having sex with a man who looks suspiciously like Darth Vader without his helmet on.  You proceed to question her as to why she would ever betray you in such a way, in your own football ridden sanctuary, no less.  She reminds you that the two of you are divorced, so technically she wasn’t betraying anyone.  You shrug, punch the man in his wrinkly face, and proceed to take you and your incorrectly sized ring elsewhere.  You end up on the streets of Baltimore, late at night, being propositioned by a lady of the night.  You stare at the woman for a moment, shove the ring box into her well manicured hand, and hightail it to a dive bar.  You then get drunk off of tequila and eat about ten individual lime slices before you pass out in the corner, your foot dangerously close to a puddle that glints – suspiciously – yellow in the lighting.

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Ramblings


do you ever feel

lost in space

you’ve misplaced

that thing

you know

that thing you forgot

maybe it was your brain

but that is insane

you can’t misplace your brain

can you?

maybe you are just tired

that’s it

you’re not going crazy

you are just a tad sleep deprived

happens to everyone

so. . .

what were you thinking about?

oh yeah

maybe you did misplace your brain

if only it was raining

you would be lulled to sleep

pulled into the land of dreams

that you will not remember the next morning

so what is the point of dreaming?

maybe your brain just gets bored

when it has but the company of your subconcious

the movie of your dream plays

and your brain has no popcorn to go along with it

the syrup in the soda fountain has gone sour

the nachos are stale

and the concession stand is all out

of sour patch kids

Fascinating Bones


What is it about dinosaurs that kids love so much, anyway?  Is it the way the colors?  The dinosaur movies and Dragon Tales?  The masculinity associated with the big dumpster trucks and strong scary t-rexs?  But then girls like dinos, too.  Is it the mystery of life long ago, and the strange creatures that just capture the imagination?

Follow your dreams is such an overused cliche.

Why do people like crime shows?  They can be so bloody and gory, like Bones.  Is it the mystery of trying to find out “whodunnit”?  Is it the nice idea that the bad guys are always caught that attracts us?

Two slices of bread lightly toasted cut across the middle so that four triangles are formed, spread with peanut butter and melted in the microwave for ten seconds, with a glass of milk and Oreos = best. invention. ever. Well, besides indoor plumbing.  And cars.  And the radio.  And…. um… I’ll just stop.  It’s still pretty awesome, though.

Otters are cute.

Rain boots are so multipurpose, you can wear them in any weather, use them as a vase for your flowers, use them as a pot for your flowers, store office supplies in them (though admittedly retrieving the office supplies that get pushed into the toes isn’t the easiest task), write phone messages on them with a sharpie (though don’t let random strangers write down long lost Aunt Susie’s phone number when you dig the stapler out of your boot, put it in your sneaker, and trudge past in the phone-book-boots through the rain),  even eat soup out of them.  (Warning: the sanitary conditions of said rain boots are questionable.  Eating soup out of them may result in the spread of viruses, or at least finding stray bits of corn in between your toes from last night’s dinner.)

What is the difference between TiVo and DVR?

At the end of YouTube videos, why do people say “I love you guys, bye!” and wave?  I don’t know you!  You can’t love me, because I DON’T KNOW YOU!

My post by e-mail worked!  Oh yeah! I don’t know why I’m so excited about that.

This was on the headboard when I stayed at a hotel.

This was in a nice, respected hotel, like a Hilton or Hampton or something.  I had clean sheets!  I felt like royalty.

Poem of the Day


I have roughly 2-3 hours left of the day and I have yet to write my poem.  So here goes nothing.  (It’s probably going to be crummy)

Sometimes I feel so alone

Stuck in this orbit

Around planets and life

I am separated in empty space

The stars are distant dots of hope and

Then even when I’m on a planet I’m lonely

So better to be alone by myself

Than be alone surrounded by people

Tell me what you thought, tell me if you ever feel this way, tell me about your breakfast.  I don’t care.  Just let me know someone out there is listening.  (Or, er, reading.  Same difference.)  Thanks.