I've known coffee:
I've known coffee ancient as Monday's meeting and older
than the barista's five o'clock shadow.
My bladder grows full from the coffee.
I bathed my donut in coffee when dawn was young.
I built a wall of cups on my desk that kept me from sleep.
I gazed upon Mr. Coffee and tore bags of powdery Splenda above it.
I heard the singing of the sea-green Mermaid at two o'clock,
when my boss stepped out for ten minutes, and I've seen the clear water
turn muddy brown in the filter paper.
I've known coffee:
Ancient, dusky, coffee.
My bladder grows full from the coffee.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
My Experience in the Job Hunt
As many of you probably know, I quit my former job for various reasons. I've been engaged in the job hunt, and I've noticed a few things. I've determined that the best way to present my findings is a venn diagram. I also love venn diagrams.
*this cat right here
Interactive portion: See if you can figure out which occupation falls into which region!
1) Building model airplanes
2) Mud logging (it's a thing, look it up if you have to)
3) Male prostitution
4) Putting papers in file cabinets
5) Observing habits of insects in the wild
6) Driving a truck
7) Making "That's what she said jokes"
Answers:
1) B
2) ACD
3) ACD
4) AC
5) A
6) AD
7) B
Also, feel free to suggest occupations and what circle you think they might fall into. I'd be particularly interested if you can come up with something that falls into the yet undiscovered BCD region.
 |
| Guess who found his compass from 10th grade!* |
Interactive portion: See if you can figure out which occupation falls into which region!
1) Building model airplanes
2) Mud logging (it's a thing, look it up if you have to)
3) Male prostitution
4) Putting papers in file cabinets
5) Observing habits of insects in the wild
6) Driving a truck
7) Making "That's what she said jokes"
Answers:
1) B
2) ACD
3) ACD
4) AC
5) A
6) AD
7) B
Also, feel free to suggest occupations and what circle you think they might fall into. I'd be particularly interested if you can come up with something that falls into the yet undiscovered BCD region.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Escaping Nightmares
My dream self seems to be coming up with more and more creative ways of getting out of nightmare situations. Last night, as I was about to drift over the edge of what appeared to be an impossibly high waterfall, I realized that I only had a few plywood boards to work with. I concluded that the best thing to do was to flap them hard enough to try and fly and guide myself to a safe landing. Anyone with any knowledge of aerodynamics could say this probably wouldn't work, especially considering that the pieces of wood I had were fairly clunky. Fortunately, this turned out to be unnecessary. After cresting the edge of the waterfall, I started dropping, only to find myself on a slightly inclined shelf in a huge supermarket. The waterfall turned out to be a huge display piece in a giant, Walmart-like store.
If only I had been this mentally nimble several weeks ago, when I dreamed that a friend of mine wanted me to go see a movie he had enjoyed. After he finally convinced me to go see the movie, six (6) people broke into the room we were in and commenced trying to kill me (guns, explosions, etc.). It turned out that the movie was some sort of create-your-own-adventure experience, in which as soon as you decided to see the movie, people started trying to kill you. I had to have my friend, who was incidentally caught in the crossfire, explain this to me, but once he did, it made sense. The best part of the whole dream (except the part where I killed or evaded six (6) would be assassins) was after he explained how the movie worked, he told me "It's not as good the second time you see it."
Friday, January 6, 2012
Packable?
This morning on the train, I saw someone wearing a light jacket that had a tag that said "packable" on it. Why is that something you would mention about clothing? Of course it's packable, it's clothing, not a porcupine!
Quit telling me things I already know, clothing manufacturers!
 | |
| Non-packable item (unfortunately) |
 |
| Packable item (whatever) |
Quit telling me things I already know, clothing manufacturers!
Monday, November 21, 2011
Dangerous Conversation Enders
Now is a dangerous time to have conversations with me if you're easily offended. I'm not sure why, but for some reason, there are a few lines that I've been hankering to use for a while, and I'm waiting for the opportune time to put some of these conversation killing zingers to good use. For better or worse (probably for better), situations in which I would be confident bringing out these gems don't come along too often, but I want to be ready when they do. So, I've been daydreaming scenarios in which I would get say these things:
1) Put this in your pipe and smoke it!
When I say it: You have handed me a request for an unusually large amount of paperwork, all of which is unnecessary. I complete the paperwork by hand, pass it through a paper shredder, and give it to you in a bag. I tell you, "Put this in your pipe and smoke it!," and walk away.
When you should not be offended: I have inadvertently stumbled across fine, pipe-quality tobacco. Not being a pipe smoker, I offer some to you (of course you smoke a pipe!).
Why: Something about saying this is satisfying. It doesn't necessarily make sense, but I enjoy the imagery it conveys. I also like how the emphasis on "this" gives me a good chance to vent my anger, channelling it through a word. I'd probably make some sort of emphatic gesture at that point, too.
2) Go milk a duck.
When I say it: You ask me to do some futile, difficult task while you sit down, and perhaps sip a mojito. I tell you, "Aaaah, go milk a duck." I walk away.
When you should not be offended: I have become an eccentric goat farmer. All of my goats are named after other animals. You ask if there is anything you can do to help, so I tell you, "Go milk A. Duck." While you are milking "A. Duck," (the A. is short for Arnold), I am milking "D. Tortoise" (Dylan), "T. Shark" (Theodore) and "J. Badger" (Jean-Paul). Being the head goat farmer, I milk many more than you can in the same amount of time. Don't worry, you'll learn soon enough.
Why: This one is all about the imagery. I like how it almost makes sense. Why a duck? It must be hard to catch one. Where would you start trying to milk it? It leaves the target puzzled and hurt while I walk off, smug and self-satisfied with my delivery.
3) Put a sock in it, buddy!
When I say it: Honestly, this one is pretty generic. Perhaps I'm fed up with the conversation because I don't like hearing why your sports team is better than mine. Or maybe I don't want to hear about how talented your cat is. Perhaps you offended me by insulting my Jerry Garcia tie. I don't know, I don't particularly care. Put a sock in it, buddy.
When you should not be offended: You have a hole in your pocket, but also have a surplus of change. You ask me for some advice about how to line your pocket so that you can carry your change. "Put a sock in it, buddy!," I offer, helpfully. Maybe I even provide an unmatched sock I have lying around my room.
Why: This one sounds nice to me. Every word is short and sharp, except for that last one. "Buddy." It's so sarcastic and patronising. It's got the right sound to be a strong order, and the proper, authoritative delivery will leave a target speechless. How can you reply when you're busy stuffing your mouth with a sock?
4) How 'bout them apples!
When I say it: We have been arguing for the past hour. You are clearly wrong, but refuse to see things my way (the proper way). My aide drops off a folder of papers that definitively prove you are wrong. I look them over for 30 seconds, ignoring you and the noises coming out of your mouth. I laugh to myself, and throw the folder in front of you. Some of the papers tumble out, but in a neat, orderly fashion so that you can see the evidence. "How 'bout them apples," I scoff.
When not to be offended: We are picking apples in an orchard. It is a beautiful autumn day. Although we have had much success up to this point, we reach lane of trees we have not seen yet. We both gasp. In unison, we turn to each other and exclaim, "How 'bout them apples!" Awestruck by the beauty of the apples, we have clearly forgotten the difference between the nominative and accusative demonstrative adjectives.
Why: This one is so simple - it begs the target to look at how obviously right I am. It starts off hesitantly, almost like a question, but by the time it's over, you know I've got the winning hand and that I've been taking the high road the whole time. I think the delivery is best done casually, not too rushed, not too slow. Then, I revel in watching the target's response play out as he (or she!) realises who has the power in the situation.
5) Blow it out yer cornhole!
When I say it: I have no interest in ever talking to you, seeing you, or hearing of you ever again. I interrupt you mid-sentence to tell you to "Blow it out yer cornhole." We never speak again.
When not to be offended: No. I mean this one. This is always offensive.
Why: Everything about this phrase is perfect. It's got the right combination of sounds and imagery to be versatile in multiple situations and offensive. "Blow it out yer cornhole." Try saying it and not feeling good about yourself. The crisp "bl" at the start followed by three words in the middle that roll together, leading into the hard "C" at the end just make this one satisfying to say at any volume. I also love how versatile it is. Cornhole is just ambiguous enough to defy abstraction - what would a cornhole look like, if it's not what you know I'm referring to? Probably a lot like what I'm referring to. The "it" can refer to anything. I'll use this one anytime. So, yeah. Blow it out yer cornhole.
As a sidenote, a lot of these go really well with some sort of audience participation. In my mind, immediately after I let one of these phrases loose, a crowd of onlookers circles in, and throw in a rising "Ooooooooooooo" before repeating what I said. So just saying, if you see me deliver one of these, feel free to taunt my target. It would really add to the effect, and I'd be sure to remember it in the future if you ever need something.
1) Put this in your pipe and smoke it!
When I say it: You have handed me a request for an unusually large amount of paperwork, all of which is unnecessary. I complete the paperwork by hand, pass it through a paper shredder, and give it to you in a bag. I tell you, "Put this in your pipe and smoke it!," and walk away.
When you should not be offended: I have inadvertently stumbled across fine, pipe-quality tobacco. Not being a pipe smoker, I offer some to you (of course you smoke a pipe!).
Why: Something about saying this is satisfying. It doesn't necessarily make sense, but I enjoy the imagery it conveys. I also like how the emphasis on "this" gives me a good chance to vent my anger, channelling it through a word. I'd probably make some sort of emphatic gesture at that point, too.
2) Go milk a duck.
When I say it: You ask me to do some futile, difficult task while you sit down, and perhaps sip a mojito. I tell you, "Aaaah, go milk a duck." I walk away.
When you should not be offended: I have become an eccentric goat farmer. All of my goats are named after other animals. You ask if there is anything you can do to help, so I tell you, "Go milk A. Duck." While you are milking "A. Duck," (the A. is short for Arnold), I am milking "D. Tortoise" (Dylan), "T. Shark" (Theodore) and "J. Badger" (Jean-Paul). Being the head goat farmer, I milk many more than you can in the same amount of time. Don't worry, you'll learn soon enough.
Why: This one is all about the imagery. I like how it almost makes sense. Why a duck? It must be hard to catch one. Where would you start trying to milk it? It leaves the target puzzled and hurt while I walk off, smug and self-satisfied with my delivery.
3) Put a sock in it, buddy!
When I say it: Honestly, this one is pretty generic. Perhaps I'm fed up with the conversation because I don't like hearing why your sports team is better than mine. Or maybe I don't want to hear about how talented your cat is. Perhaps you offended me by insulting my Jerry Garcia tie. I don't know, I don't particularly care. Put a sock in it, buddy.
When you should not be offended: You have a hole in your pocket, but also have a surplus of change. You ask me for some advice about how to line your pocket so that you can carry your change. "Put a sock in it, buddy!," I offer, helpfully. Maybe I even provide an unmatched sock I have lying around my room.
Why: This one sounds nice to me. Every word is short and sharp, except for that last one. "Buddy." It's so sarcastic and patronising. It's got the right sound to be a strong order, and the proper, authoritative delivery will leave a target speechless. How can you reply when you're busy stuffing your mouth with a sock?
4) How 'bout them apples!
When I say it: We have been arguing for the past hour. You are clearly wrong, but refuse to see things my way (the proper way). My aide drops off a folder of papers that definitively prove you are wrong. I look them over for 30 seconds, ignoring you and the noises coming out of your mouth. I laugh to myself, and throw the folder in front of you. Some of the papers tumble out, but in a neat, orderly fashion so that you can see the evidence. "How 'bout them apples," I scoff.
When not to be offended: We are picking apples in an orchard. It is a beautiful autumn day. Although we have had much success up to this point, we reach lane of trees we have not seen yet. We both gasp. In unison, we turn to each other and exclaim, "How 'bout them apples!" Awestruck by the beauty of the apples, we have clearly forgotten the difference between the nominative and accusative demonstrative adjectives.
Why: This one is so simple - it begs the target to look at how obviously right I am. It starts off hesitantly, almost like a question, but by the time it's over, you know I've got the winning hand and that I've been taking the high road the whole time. I think the delivery is best done casually, not too rushed, not too slow. Then, I revel in watching the target's response play out as he (or she!) realises who has the power in the situation.
5) Blow it out yer cornhole!
When I say it: I have no interest in ever talking to you, seeing you, or hearing of you ever again. I interrupt you mid-sentence to tell you to "Blow it out yer cornhole." We never speak again.
When not to be offended: No. I mean this one. This is always offensive.
Why: Everything about this phrase is perfect. It's got the right combination of sounds and imagery to be versatile in multiple situations and offensive. "Blow it out yer cornhole." Try saying it and not feeling good about yourself. The crisp "bl" at the start followed by three words in the middle that roll together, leading into the hard "C" at the end just make this one satisfying to say at any volume. I also love how versatile it is. Cornhole is just ambiguous enough to defy abstraction - what would a cornhole look like, if it's not what you know I'm referring to? Probably a lot like what I'm referring to. The "it" can refer to anything. I'll use this one anytime. So, yeah. Blow it out yer cornhole.
As a sidenote, a lot of these go really well with some sort of audience participation. In my mind, immediately after I let one of these phrases loose, a crowd of onlookers circles in, and throw in a rising "Ooooooooooooo" before repeating what I said. So just saying, if you see me deliver one of these, feel free to taunt my target. It would really add to the effect, and I'd be sure to remember it in the future if you ever need something.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Proper Word Order
It's funny how drastically changing the order of words can effect the meaning of a sentence (not to be too specific; it can also change clauses, exclamations, you know, whatever).
I was thinking* of this because the silly song "If I Only had a Brain" from the Wizard of Oz was stuck in my head. The scarecrow sings that "if [he] only had a brain, [he'd] dance and be a-merry."
*It hurt.
Then I thought, if I had only a brain, I'd like to live in a jar.
I was thinking* of this because the silly song "If I Only had a Brain" from the Wizard of Oz was stuck in my head. The scarecrow sings that "if [he] only had a brain, [he'd] dance and be a-merry."
*It hurt.
Then I thought, if I had only a brain, I'd like to live in a jar.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
I Mess Up While Dreaming vol. III
So I woke up in a bit of a panic this morning. I had a dream where I was about to get married. I'm a bit hazy about some crucial details (i.e. who the bride was, what she looked like, how she felt about sandals and socks, etc.), but I know that I was pretty excited to tie the knot. More excited than my awake self has been about anything I can remember in recent times, so that was a kind of funny feeling.
Still, I woke up nervous for a couple of reasons. Firstly, the whole dream seemed uncharacteristic of me; I'm afraid of commitment to the point where I wouldn't like to keep a may-fly as a pet for fear that it would tie me down to one place (this fear of commitment also manifests itself in not talking to girls just in case I ended up liking one). Furthermore, the fact that I was as excited as I was to get married to someone I may or may not have known is something I find troublesome. I leave this one open to interpretation.
What really concerned me most were the ramifications of my dream self getting married; I became concerned with all sorts of hypothetical questions that had me really worried about the well-being of my dream self. Would my wife become a recurring character in my dreams? Would I have to remember anniversaries? Do chores? All of this had me worried.
Of all things, the most irrational was the guilt I felt. Like I said, in my dream, I was about to get married to a girl I felt strongly about (for whatever reasons). Before the actual event took place, I woke up, jilting my betrothed. Not to mention all the wedding guests who would have been angry that the reception wasn't actually going to take place. Poor breeding on my part, to say the least.
Still, I woke up nervous for a couple of reasons. Firstly, the whole dream seemed uncharacteristic of me; I'm afraid of commitment to the point where I wouldn't like to keep a may-fly as a pet for fear that it would tie me down to one place (this fear of commitment also manifests itself in not talking to girls just in case I ended up liking one). Furthermore, the fact that I was as excited as I was to get married to someone I may or may not have known is something I find troublesome. I leave this one open to interpretation.
What really concerned me most were the ramifications of my dream self getting married; I became concerned with all sorts of hypothetical questions that had me really worried about the well-being of my dream self. Would my wife become a recurring character in my dreams? Would I have to remember anniversaries? Do chores? All of this had me worried.
Of all things, the most irrational was the guilt I felt. Like I said, in my dream, I was about to get married to a girl I felt strongly about (for whatever reasons). Before the actual event took place, I woke up, jilting my betrothed. Not to mention all the wedding guests who would have been angry that the reception wasn't actually going to take place. Poor breeding on my part, to say the least.
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