well, alright

the bonsai tree seeds i had in the fridge to simulate winter turned into a vile mold and i think this was the company’s plan. i think the company that makes these seeds was founded by a sentient species of space fungus that came to earth ten thousand years ago and i was tricked into incubating a new generation of evil spores. like i’ve been building this weird machine in my sleep and seeking large bodies of water and now i guess i know why. the moral here is don’t pursue new hobbies and live in a dark, damp environment. 

i was at work the other night and someone said, “we should get a store dog,” and i said, “we should get a store parrot because then it could be the mascot for like 60 years,” and the owner overheard and said, “i think they live even longer, like 90 years.” and we all paused for a second, probably thinking about how we wouldn’t outlive a parrot, and the moral is don’t bring up parrots because they’re total downers that force you to face your own mortality very tropically.

"you know how you’re taking a picture of that check with your phone to deposit it? once i accidentally took a dick pic while doing that and my account was credited five…billion dollars. are you listening?" - me being hilarious and eleni not listening. 

i rarely shop for clothes so today when i actually walked into a clothing store and the first jacket i looked at was 200 dollars all i could think was, “fuckin fuck me for putting myself out there i guess!” you ever look at a nice piece of clothing and then check the price and it’s so much you almost feel like you’re about to apologize to a god damn shirt or something for bothering it? like you just tapped a jacket on the shoulder thinking it was your friend and instead it was a stranger way better looking than you. i walked around for fifteen minutes like, “i have enough money to…go home.”

today i was walking down the street and i saw an entire, flawless poppy seed bagel just sitting in the middle of the sidewalk and i just knew every pigeon in new york was having the same feeling like, “why do i feel so out of sorts? what’s up with me today?” what’s up is your bird soul can feel the biggest opportunity of your bird life being missed out on. i crossed the street and saw a pigeon and i felt bad, like it was wrong to somehow not let it know.

i’ve never really grown a beard and a big reason is because pillows feel weird on your face when you have one. like your face just kind of slides off them. i don’t need a life where i can’t feel the cool side of the pillow. 

i’ve never really grown a beard and a big reason is because pillows feel weird on your face when you have one. like your face just kind of slides off them. i don’t need a life where i can’t feel the cool side of the pillow. 

i’m on hold right now and every thirty seconds the hold music is interrupted by the sound of a person inhaling like they’re about to speak, but then a robot’s voice says like, “please continue to hold.” robots don’t need to breathe! they can just start talking. i don’t need realism in my robot recordings, i’m not going to be like, “was that lady who emphasized every syllable of every word like they were each spoken on different days in different years okay?” what did they have to say no to before they settled on a breathing robot? a robot chewing gum? a robot who gets spit caught in its throat and coughs for ten seconds?

you ever have a day where so many little things start to go wrong and snowball all you can think is, “i’d better go home before i just fucking actually die.”

back in the day when you got on a train someone would walk through the car with a little hole punch to mark your ticket. i took a train to new york earlier this year and the person walking through the car scanned a bar code on my ticket with a red laser. i just think that’s very appropriately futuristic. like, we did it, technology. we took the ticket punching method and boom, whoa, exactly the same thing, much more futurey looking.

sometimes people from other countries come into the store and when they pay they just hold up a bunch of change in their flat open palm and make me sort through it in their hand to get the right amount. like, you can’t stumble into another country, you know? you’re not here by accident. take the time to learn four new things. how did you even get this money? did you hand over a wad of your local cash and just assume you got the right exchange rate? anyways today some lady held her hand out in a real, “i can’t be bothered to learn new things!” way and i almost mimed the tips of my fingers like a bird beak and pecked the coins out of her hand like a chicken eating seeds. i almost did that. i didn’t. i didn’t want my career as a cashier to peak that early.

we have an intercom in the buzzer in this apartment, but you can’t understand a thing anyone says through it. like it changes your voice. you sound like a criminal trying to hide your identity when you call the police. the pitch is way low. you can’t understand anyone ever so you just have to buzz everyone through on the off chance they’re for you. someone could be like, “i’m gonna kill you, i’m gonna rip your head off,” and i’d pause and go, “…..k” and think, “it’s probably a package for the people across the hall.”

i think the saddest thing about growing up is that as an adult you know pizza is finite. like when you’re a kid and you open a pizza box and there’s a whole pizza there you’re like, “whoa, we’re gonna have pizza forever!” i just ordered a pizza and opened it at my kitchen counter and ate four slices before i even put my wallet down. it’s like you open the box and think, “okay so i’ll eat pizza now, and then one more time in two hours and then i’ll keep the box for 16 days.” just two pizza jam sessions. two breaths of pizza.

i live in this walk-up apartment building and there’s this family that lives a couple floors up with this baby who always screams as he goes down the stairs. like he just shrieks and cries like some kind of demon descending from sky hell. five floors of screams, just a waterfall of noise crashing down the steps. everybody in the whole building has to know prince yellface is going to fucking wherever he’s always going. the thing is that i’ve been in this apartment for a year and a half and i’m like, buddy, learn to talk already. progress to the next stage of life, you know? you’re making me think i exist in a timeless limbo. 

it’s 4:57am and i’m drinking soda only because i looked at the clock and thought, “i don’t think i’ve ever had soda at this time of day before.” truly i am pushing the envelope of the human experience.

i work in a toy store and i’ve noticed that those books with mirrors on the last page to make little kids feel like they’re part of the story still have really shitty mirrors. they’re like the not even shiny side of tin foil. they’re like, as reflective as the scratched up back of my seven year old ipod classic. we need to step up the mirror game in these books. it’s 2014, get some real mirrors in those things. this is a problem.