So here’s the thing: I went to Subway for lunch the other day and I didn’t realize in was right at twelve o’clock so they were pretty busy. Of course I hate waiting in line behind a bunch of overweight people who are only eating at Subway because the commercials say it’s healthy, myself included. As I stood there waiting for the herd to move along the gentleman in front of me was very focused on his phone and I found out why when it was his turn to order. The polite Subway lady asked what she could get for him and he proceeded to give her six sandwich orders he was reading from the text on his phone, clearly getting lunch for the whole office. I know for most people that wouldn’t be enough to hate a perfect stranger, but I’m not most people. Dear Subway guy, I hate you.
So here’s the thing: I can’t help but think about how frustrating it must be for Mickey Mouse to text his friends. I’m mean, he probably just calls everybody and then they talk shit about him behind his back because he can’t text. I would probably get irritated with a friend too if every time I got a text from them it looked like this “;m,;,j;jmmi’m,acfwwceaqqcfq’,pjom”. Poor Mickey.
So here’s the thing: I recently burned myself on a Pop Tart to the point of blisters on my hand. I’m a thirty seven year old man who prides himself on having common sense. If I can’t make myself a toaster snack without getting hurt, does that mean I should just give up on finding a girlfriend?
So here’s the thing: I bet you can’t think of anything that would define the word “Ironic” better than this sentence: I got a piece of toothpick stuck in my teeth. Now, you might be able to come up with something “as” ironic, but no way can you come up with anything more ironic.
So I joined a basketball team and our first game was Monday night. I haven’t played basketball since 1994 and that’s not an exaggeration people, 1994. Not only did I join a basketball team, but it’s the real deal, these guys take it serious and are in serious shape to play. Then we come to me. I’m over weight, old and haven’t exercised in twenty years. How did it go you ask? In a word, embarrassing. I’ve been looking for my youth since last night, but all I can find is depression and regret. Stupid time!