Conversations with myself

Sometimes I'm conversing (IMing) with someone over the Internet and they fail to respond. So I have to make up the conversation myself. This is one recent example:


Me:
hi
whats new
oh really?
well that's exciting
what did you name it?
pod?
hmm interesting name for a baby
where did the fire start?
Oh, well next time don't put your mattress in the dryer
That happened to me once too
twice actually
Well, babies should only go in the dryer if they are 3 months or older
yes, I'm sure
that's probably what started the fire
not the mattress

Little fish? More like fish food.

When I was looking for the perfect college, I went to an educational consultant. He was a nice man who told me that it was better to be a big fish in a little pond, as opposed to a little fish in a big pond. Deep down inside, I believed this. During college I moved around a lot and tried many different sized ponds, never really deciding which I liked best. But I hadn't tried the biggest pond of all-- the pond of New York City. Many of my friends lived there, and they allured me with romantic stories of its grandeur. After college I decided to move there, disregarding the wise advice that was given to me a few years earlier. I would give it six months and if it didn't suit me, I would move on. But I fell for New York. I fell hard, like many do. And then somehow, slowly, I began to fall on my face. I had far surpassed the six month mark--it had now been years. There were so many fish, and they were all swimming right past me. I started to feel very small. Then I realized I wasn't a fish at all. I was fish food. So now, here I am, this tiny little flake --floating along, waiting to be swallowed.

Tips for Staying Young: By an Aging 26 Year Old

I remember when I was first born. Man, that was really a long time ago. It was a snowy night in Ontario, Canada and there were doctors all around me, annoying me and trying to make me breathe. Now suddenly I'm already this full grown thing. How did this happen?!? I didn't ask for this. Am I getting old? And if so, how can I stop it? I've heard there is something called wrinkles. Some dogs and cats have them. But I wonder if they are also growing in me. Things need to change. Because at this rate soon I'll be 37. Or worse--47!(The age of our new *aging* president!!!!). I've decided to enact a new 10 point plan for myself which will dramatically slow down my aging:

1.Drink more water.
This seems to be the best advice for everything so I'm going to put it at the top of my anti-aging list. But I wonder...does toilet water count?

2.Take a trip around the world. People who live in other countries are younger than me and I think it can spread.

3.Wear sunscreen, even inside. The sun is becoming increasingly bright due to global warming. My bed and desk already have a tan.

4.Eat less candy, but more Godiva.

5.Finally move into an apartment that does NOT double as a landfill.

6.Celebrate 27th birthday by getting shitfaced, eating an entire pizza, and passing out in clothes and makeup. This is sure to make me look decades younger by the very next morning!

7.Make more friends. People who surround themselves with loved ones have been proven to be happier and healthier. As far as I can see, my cat is my only friend. I need to start bribing people to sit in my living room and watch me torture my only friend.

8.Drink more wine. Wine is supposed to be good for you. Europeans have wine with every meal and they look so attractive when they do that. I will be more attractive if I drink wine with every meal too.

9.Get a "boyfriend." I really want one of these because everyone else says they are fun to play with. I would take it on walks and feed it treats and stuff.

10.Dance until I fall down at least once a day.

Am I President Obama's Illegitimate Love Child?

This is an extraordinary day. Not just because Barack Obama has been elected president, but also for another, possibly more extraordinary reason. Look at the two photos below. Do you notice a similarity between me and our new president? Look closely. Maybe it's obvious. Maybe not. Look at our faces. Specifically, our noses. More specifically, the right side of our noses. Do you see it?





That's right. It's true. Barack Obama and I have the same mole. Now, maybe moles are not typically something to boast about. I've never been particularly fond of mine-- but I haven't detested it either. But now I have a new fondness for my mole, a new hope that it means something special. I can say to myself: "I have a "presidential mole" and you don't! Yes!"

But are moles genetic? And if they are, isn't it curious that Obama and I have our lovely moles in the exact same place???? My mole is a bit smaller than his--but maybe I just have the girl version. Is it possible that I am President Obama's love child? Or maybe I am his sister? He does seem to have million strange siblings from around the world--maybe I was switched at birth somehow. Or maybe, we are merely mole cousins. Whichever is true, I feel proud to say that President Barack Obama and I share more than a deep love for our country. We share a mole.


Amazingly, there is already a video discussing this "presidential mole":

Angry Honey Bear

Angry Honey Bear
Looks at you when you drink tea
Looks at you when you are baking
Looks at you when are preparing for Rosh Hashana
You don’t know why he’s angry
Maybe its because he’s sticky
Oh, Angry Honey Bear
Why do you always wear that stupid yellow hat?

Global Warming? Not in this office.

They say there is something called global warming going on. The word "global" implies that it is occurring all over the globe. But here in this office on the 20th floor, I am really not feeling the effects of this warming thing. It's damn freezing in here!

I thought my body temp was supposed to be almost a hundred degrees. I should be sweating from myself. I should be able to cook an egg on me. My finger should sizzle when I touch my sexy little a**. But that is not the case. I am now the temperature of your common refrigerator and I could easily keep all your perishables nice and fresh for a few weeks, at least. Bring me your cartoons of milk and your leftover thai food. Place them in my arms and I will hug and keep them safe for you to eat.

My Cat Ate Sarah Palin

I am very sorry everyone but my cat ate Sarah Palin. She will not be able to be the Republican vice presidential nominee anymore. It happened last night when Governor Palin appeared at my doorstep selling polar bear skins. I said I didn't need anymore polar bear skins, but that Sarah was tough and would not take no for an answer. She pushed her way into my apartment and said,

"I really think you should buy one. These beautiful bears were killed in the great state of Alaska."

"Guess I'm all skinned out." I told her.

And then my cat jumped up on the table, opened her mouth, and swallowed Governor Palin whole. It happened so fast I couldn't believe it. The whole thing is still kind of a blur.