Musings
1…2…3… that’s enough for me. Remember that, from elementary school? I sure don’t.
Is it coincidence that every time I go into the men’s room at any restaurant, there’s always somebody there taking a crap? And what’s worse is that they’re loud about it, as if to say (via grunts): “taking a piss, huh? Well I’m having trouble pushing this fucking gopher out of my ass. He’s got claws, that fucker. So… what’d you eat?”
I really think it’s time that we require everybody with a loud, bass-y stereo system in their car to place a giant pole with a giant flag on said car that says “Douchebag.” That way we can avoid them by driving three or four blocks behind or ahead of them. Ok, we get it, you have loud speakers, Tyron/Carlos/Kevin (he’s pretty fly for a white guy). Sometimes living in LA really suck.
Ever notice how in traffic or at a red light, you’ll sometimes catch somebody looking at you or somebody will catch you casually looking at them, and the lookee gives the looker a look of “hey! what the hell are you doing?” which undoubtedly ends in total awkwardness? It’s just like catching somebody looking at you naked or vice versa, just a tiny bit less embarrassing.
Sometimes vegans, when approached at a restaurant by their “witty”, smartass friends, will be given an option: “Either you eat a 20oz. steak, or I’m going to eat twice that in roasted chicken.” But what if it were the other way around? For example, what if vegans approached their meat eating friends and just, plain and simply, took a shit on their steaks. Would that be the same?
And finally, what’s the deal with plants? They’re growing on me.
