hodge + podge
>>>>> So I bought one of those "memory foam" pillows. Not the giant block of foam one, more the one that looks like a regular pillow, but with the memory foam inside. I don't know, the whole thing feels like I just bought the orthopedic shoe of pillows and maybe the entire business is a giant gimmick. Aside from the entire obvious mammary foam joke that we all got a laugh out of, I guess I will find out the value of it tonight. How exciting, I know, I can't wait either!!
>>>>> In yet another episode of "Mike Tries To Help the Helpless," I am trying to explain to this girl why a guy lying about talking to his ex-girlfriend and still having a pile of naked pics he promised he deleted on his phone is grounds for a breakup. She just doesn't get it. Gives the same tired excuses, there's a lot of ins, a lot of outs, a lot of interested parties, etc. No amount of preaching will fix it, and I apparently can't tell her that at a get together a few weeks ago he was grabbing the ass of this poor drunk girl. Not sure why that needs to be a big secret. I don't know why I try anyway, man. I think next time I get the inclination I am just gonna lower my head toward the wall and charge at it full speed while pumping my arms and going CHUGGA CHUGGA CHUGGA CHOO CHOOOOOOO!!! In reality, I am just stocking up Told You So points with all these people so in five yearsish they will think I am some sort of sage.
>>>>> A sorta-cute girl came in to work today so I made some conversation, you know, keeping things just shy of flirting. Things went pretty well until I realized she had ONE HAND. She had the stumpy bit tucked behind her other hand and I didn't notice. I really didn't care too much, but it threw me all of because all I could think of then was, "Did I use the term 'singlehandedly' at any point during our conversation?"
>>>>> I know this sounds crazy coming from me, but I am really not too big on picking on the pathetic, but tell me truly, do I ever write like this: "It doesn't help that I've been overly conscious of the fairer sex lately. That in particular strikes me as weird; usually when I'm hung up on a girl, I more or less ignore all other women, often to my detriment. Lately I've been giving every girl I see a second glance. I don't like it; I that I should be focussing on the perfectly good--fucking wonderful, more like--girl that's actually interested in me. The girl I can't stop thinking about, when I should probably be thinking about getting a job." If so, will you please sneak in while I am sleeping and burn me?
>>>>> And haiku is not a way to give your shit poetry self-serving false gravitas. It's as bad as writing a sonnet about how sitting in your Statistics class gives you terrible gas and you wonder if you could maybe squeak one out and blame it on your new sneakers.
PS: Man, you can pillow case one of these things in like three seconds flat. No more of that holding it under your chin while you try to reach underneath and fight it on, looking like a fat drunkard trying to reach around his gut to find his pecker before he pisses himself. I always hated that.
>>>>> In yet another episode of "Mike Tries To Help the Helpless," I am trying to explain to this girl why a guy lying about talking to his ex-girlfriend and still having a pile of naked pics he promised he deleted on his phone is grounds for a breakup. She just doesn't get it. Gives the same tired excuses, there's a lot of ins, a lot of outs, a lot of interested parties, etc. No amount of preaching will fix it, and I apparently can't tell her that at a get together a few weeks ago he was grabbing the ass of this poor drunk girl. Not sure why that needs to be a big secret. I don't know why I try anyway, man. I think next time I get the inclination I am just gonna lower my head toward the wall and charge at it full speed while pumping my arms and going CHUGGA CHUGGA CHUGGA CHOO CHOOOOOOO!!! In reality, I am just stocking up Told You So points with all these people so in five yearsish they will think I am some sort of sage.
>>>>> A sorta-cute girl came in to work today so I made some conversation, you know, keeping things just shy of flirting. Things went pretty well until I realized she had ONE HAND. She had the stumpy bit tucked behind her other hand and I didn't notice. I really didn't care too much, but it threw me all of because all I could think of then was, "Did I use the term 'singlehandedly' at any point during our conversation?"
>>>>> I know this sounds crazy coming from me, but I am really not too big on picking on the pathetic, but tell me truly, do I ever write like this: "It doesn't help that I've been overly conscious of the fairer sex lately. That in particular strikes me as weird; usually when I'm hung up on a girl, I more or less ignore all other women, often to my detriment. Lately I've been giving every girl I see a second glance. I don't like it; I that I should be focussing on the perfectly good--fucking wonderful, more like--girl that's actually interested in me. The girl I can't stop thinking about, when I should probably be thinking about getting a job." If so, will you please sneak in while I am sleeping and burn me?
>>>>> And haiku is not a way to give your shit poetry self-serving false gravitas. It's as bad as writing a sonnet about how sitting in your Statistics class gives you terrible gas and you wonder if you could maybe squeak one out and blame it on your new sneakers.
PS: Man, you can pillow case one of these things in like three seconds flat. No more of that holding it under your chin while you try to reach underneath and fight it on, looking like a fat drunkard trying to reach around his gut to find his pecker before he pisses himself. I always hated that.