Famous among dozens
Stumbled across a goth grooming guide. Number 5 is a classic. From “Makeup Tips for the Bleak”:
5. If you have scars on your wrists from suicide attempts, by all means display them proudly. The same goes for bruises, cuts, and track marks. Abscesses, however, should always be coyly veiled in filmy black fabric.
Sign for a country store outside of Woodland, California:
Burgers
Mexican Food
Live Bait
Bryan dials the phone, and the man on the other end picks up. Bryan greets him with a voice a few octaves lower than usual:
What are you wearing?
(extended pause)
You’re not Jeff, are you.
The yoga instructor at my new gym is named Howard.
What is that?
You mean the guy with his T-shirt tucked into his sweatpants?
I mean the guy with his solar system T-shirt tucked into his sweatpants.
Seriously?
Yep.
How does that happen? How do you get to be a middle-aged man and think it’s OK to leave the house like this?
Sometimes people fall through the cracks.
B: We get to vote tomorrow!
Me: (monotone) I can’t wait.
B: Hey! I don’t make fun of things you’re excited about.
Me: I’m sorry. I get to exercise my voting rights! Tomorrow I will use the power of my ballot to increase the common good!
B: I don’t know.
Me: I lost you at common good.
B: Yeah.
A group of us are at a bar celebrating. A stranger approaches with a drink in each hand and says, “Are you the soup and mayo pigs?” The best part is how we look at each other questioningly. Are we the soup and mayo pigs?
On the bathroom wall of this SOMA coffee shop, someone has scrawled, “I have a boner that could hit a homer.” I find this intriguing because the gentleman in question most likely wasn’t drunk, and yet he felt compelled to share. I myself have never put pen to plaster, because I can never think of anything worthwhile to say. Perhaps if I had a penis.
A heartening note from Rosecrans:
Going to the butcher, I buy a paper and read it in the park on Saturday
morning because it’s so nice out. Little girl and her mother sit down
next to me with a plastic bag from a bagel store. Mom answers her cell
phone. Little girl picks up the bagel bag, says fondly, “Bag…I love
you.”
As we’re leaving a restaurant, a well-dressed gentleman and his wife block the door. He’s helping his wife with her coat, but when he finishes, he just stands there with his hand on the door.
R: Excuse me.
(Gentleman turns and blinks at her slowly.)
R: Excuse me?
(Gentleman may have had one too many mojiotos over dinner. R moves his hand from the door and opens it so we can leave.)
M: He was looped.
R: Yeah, that was weird. He obviously heard me.
M: He just wasn’t sure what to do about it.
R: Brain to arm. Come in arm.
B: This is arm, over.
M: I need you to move the door.
B: (drunken slur) Don’t you tell meee what to do.
Why are you alwaysh telling me what to do?
R: Exactly. “I’m not gonna move the door. In fact, I’m gonna give this woman the finger!”
M: So that’s how that works.
Mighty Girl 