Scab

For the past couple days I’ve been really into picking this scab in my left ear. It is nestled in a curve in the top part, right above the triangular fossa. That is the name of the top part of the ear. Did you know that? Yeah right.

It’s fun because I pick the scab, and then about an hour later it’s back, and I can pick it again.

I like picking the scab because it sort of hurts but it also feels good. It hurts so good.

That’s John Cougar Mellencamp, in case you were wondering. What ever happened to him? Nothing! He still makes feel good music!

When the scab is gone I will be sad. The good news is, picking at it prolongs its existence.

The bad news is, no one makes scab candy… no one except for Chef Goul-R-Dee.

By the way, makers of Scab-A-Roni gummy snacks, you forgot the H in Ghoul.

BB Guns are Awesome

When I used to hear stories about some guy who gets arrested or detained or whatever for carrying a realistic-looking BB gun in public, I’d think, Why would you carry around a realistic-looking BB gun? That’s just bound to get you into trouble.

Well, I just got six BB guns in the mail, and I’ll tell you, the temptation to carry one around everywhere I go is very strong. So far I’ve been able to hold off. So far.

BB guns are pretty freaking cool.

This is the best one I got:

I spray painted the orange part black. It’s pretty bad ass.

Why don’t you shut up and get yourself a BB gun.

Scottie Pippen

When the Bulls were playing the Jazz in the 1998 Finals, the Jazz’s star power forward, Karl “The Mailman” Malone, was at the free throw line in a clutch situation.

Before he shot the free throws, the Bulls star small forward, Scottie Pippen, whispered something in Malone’s ear. The Mailman promptly missed the free throws.

After the game, Pippen was asked what he whispered to Malone. He said, “I told him the mailman don’t deliver on Sundays.”

I’ve always thought that was very clever. I wonder if Pippen thought that up beforehand, or on the spot.

Pippen once asked some girl from my high school out on a date. Actually that’s just a rumor, from an unreliable source. But I think this may have been one of the few times the source was right. I’m not sure though. I don’t know what made me think of all this.

Um, Cell Phones Don’t Really Work in Elevators

Who are those jerks who get in the elevator and try to continue their cell phone conversation?

Rather than saying, “Hey, I’m getting in an elevator, I’ll call you lates,” they’re like, “…the projected totals for this month… what?… what?… I think we’re breaking up… what?… I can’t figure out why I can’t hear you anymore… what?… what?… before I got into this elevator I could hear you fine but now I am no longer able to hear you… what?… who?… hello?… hello?… are you there?… Richardson?… hello?…”

I have invented a new name for the talking-on-a-cell-phone-in-an-elevator move: the cellevator.

Nice.

That Cheddar Was Too Sharp

Yesterday I bought some sharp white cheddar. I should’ve gone with the regular chedder. The stuff I bought is just too damn sharp.

I bought it from an older guy with a beard and no mustache. He was selling it at an outdoor market. He made the cheese himself. The sharp cheddar had been aged 4 years, he told me.

At the time, it seemed like a fine idea to buy some real sharp cheddar at an outdoor market. No. It was a bad idea. It’s too damn sharp.

And the worst part is, I still have a rectangular hunk left. So I have to eat it tomorrow, with Triscuits. Which are delish.

I thought I was a man who could handle real homemade sharp cheddar that had been aged 4 years. But I am not. I am just a regular man, who can handle only regular cheddar that has not been aged too long.

I am disappointed in myself.

The Overdog

In most instances, it’s better to root for the overdog, because if the underdog wins too often, then being an underdog would have to be considered an advantage, which would make being an underdog not being an underdog.

For an underdog’s victory to be unique, which is what makes it exciting, it needs to occur as infrequently as possible, so you should save your cheers for when there is an underdog you truly, truly want to win.

I am so xtreme about rooting for the overdog that, even though I am a Bears fan, in last year’s Super Bowl a big part of me couldn’t help but be glad the Colts won, because they were the better team, and because Peyton Manning deserved to be crowned a champion.

So I will be rooting for the Patriots to beat the Giants in Super Bowl XLII, because the Pats deserve it. They’re 18-0 for godsakes.

Rest assured, I will be eating pizza while watching the game. I will not be drinking beer, because I’m tired of drinking beer.

I will say, however, that I love this beer:

Maybe I will drink one of those.

I used to be a shitty beer connoisseur. I don’t know wha happen?

T is for Taxi, V is for Vexing

Hey, you know where people aren’t spacing out? Taxis. There is no entertainment back there.

Wait, now there is. Why did the city put t.v. in cabs? Especially since all they show is some repeating news feed. It’s the same old bullshit news about some political thing is happening, someone got killed by somebody, something’s going on in California. Who cares? Do we have to constantly be inundated with this bullshit?

I don’t know, I guess at some point you will be able to watch t.v. shows in taxis? Like re-runs of Friends? That’s not good either.

This picture is the definition of zany.

Whatever happened to peacefully holding hands with your girl as you recap the evening? Why does there have to be t.v. in taxis?

At least you can turn it off. But then you have to watch the words “touch here to resume” bounce around the screen. I should get “touch here to resume” tattooed on my dick. Hay oh!

Just kidding, fools. I don’t really think I should do that.