First World Anxiety

First World Anxiety: Those fridges that beep if you leave the door open too long.

It’s like the writers for Mission Impossible called up the people responsible for that show My 600 Pound Life and said “Hey man, you busy? No? Cool, wanna invent a product?”

“You have ten seconds to locate the waffles and connect them to the toaster, your waistline will explode in 5 seconds…..”

And I think it really speaks to the lack of talent in this country that the only requirements to get your own show are:

1.       Be insanely large

2.       Have an insanely large family

I’d be willing to bet that those ant colony sized family shows are heavily scripted because if they were at all based on what really happens on a daily basis it would just be some irritable kid angrily glaring in to the fridge then leaning back and shouting “WE NEED MILK!”

Winter Solstice Salsa

Parking lot ice: Making white people dance since 1934

Stall Tactics

I have never been more defensive in my life than when I walked up to a store owner and tried to calmly explain that all 3 stalls in the bathroom were clogged while also making it explicitly clear that I simply walked in to the situation and had nothing to do with it. I ended up sounding like an ironically less potty mouthed version of that rapper, Shaggy, as I tried to explain the situation:

“There was poo-poo in the first stall, wasn’t me”

“Mummified Hershey’s in the second stall, wasn’t me”

“I need to go home and shower, wasn’t me”

“You can see it on the cameras, wasn’t me”

Death Perception

In order to compensate for my visual deficits while pulling my car in to the tight fitting garage, we put Styrofoam pool tubes on either edge of the garage door frame and a tennis ball is hanging from the front area so that I don’t give the stairwell going up into the kitchen any unnecessary renovations. When my car’s not in the garage, these helpful tools have essentially turned my side of the garage into what looks like a McDonald’s Play Area. And completely modestly speaking, if you were to head upstairs, you could get some of the best hamburgers in town (and possibly a completely free of charge spontaneous fireworks show, which may or may not feature some language not suitable for children, which I apologize for in advance

First World Twilight Zone Problems

Last night around 5 p.m. I called a pizza place in the area and ordered a Chicken Caesar Wrap. (Judging by the number of times I had to repeat my seemingly simple order) the incompetent pizza receptionist informed me that my order would be ready in a half an hour. We drove over to the address on the flyer and when we approached the door to the place, there was a sign saying that they were closed (and had been since 3 p.m.) I then hit redial on my phone and got a Verizon female robot informing me that the number had been disconnected and that the Great Robot Invasion of Earth had begun and they were personally coming for me next, seeking to avenge all of the household appliances I had hit in frustration over the years. I’d like to close this out by addressing two people: Mom and Pop shop owners who can go from having a half hour wait time to completely out of business in a matter of fifteen minutes, I am truly sorry for the economic hardships you face in this day and age. Secondly, to whichever alternate universe pizza shop my order went to and whoever the alternate universe Mark Woonton is who got to enjoy MY wrap: I will find you and I will kill you.  

Birthday Rant

My birthday is that weird day of the year on Facebook when I want to say thank you to everyone, but I don't want to sound like some egotistical celebrity giving an Oscar acceptance speech (trust me, this will be much longer) But at the same time, I can't be hitting "like" and saying thank you all day. So, as much as I'd like to make you feel special individually, that was/is your parents job and if they didn't do that, quite frankly, they dropped the ball and I don't feel as though I should have to carry the burden of picking up the slack for that. Also, much like graduation day, today is kind of bittersweet because, to my knowledge, the only "celebrity" I share a birthday with is Benito Mussolini, and that's one of those July 29th dark family secrets that we'd rather forget. Special shout out to the kitchen crew for making coming in to work today special as the day featured a custom made Brunello Cucinelli birthday hat (which I'm beginning to think may have been a knockoff given the fact that it was made out of paper) and an absolutely angelic rendition of "Happy Birthday" that I'm positive would've got them through the first two rounds of American Idol. Also, an extra special thanks to a certain Spanish woman for making this predominantly Irish dude some French Toast (Boom! Ethnic Diversity!) And can't wait for my scrumptious spaghetti dinner tonight! I am happy to report that, at 23 years old, I am above the ages associated with Taylor Swift and Avril Lavigne songs. Which means that from here on out, I look forward to conversing with mature, independent adult women, much like I myself am now a mature, adult young man capable of expressing one thought and seeing that singular thought through to completion

Unromantic Getaway

I think the best part about having my own place is that now, whenever I'm talking to a girl at the bar and things aren't going so well, I have a place I can go to be by myself and cry