So here’s the thing: Yeah, we get it, it’s Christmas. Shut up already.

So here’s the thing: Let’s talk about limitations for a second. I’ll be honest with you, I’m not an attractive man, and my body for a lack of a better word is gross. You know what I don’t do, walk around the pool in speedos man! You want to know why? Limitations. I was inspired to write this because of seeing an older woman on a late night talk show wearing a dress that really showed off her old arm pits. I don’t like arm pits to begin with, and seeing this lady sit there with arm pits that had multiple folds in them that would flap around when she laughed really, well….made me sick. That’s why I don’t show off my extra skin in public, I don’t want to make strangers sick, it’s a form of common courtesy people. It all falls under the category of knowing your physical limitations. Wait, unless you’re really, really rich, then forget everything you just read and give me a call.

So here’s the thing: I don’t get why somebody would want a cat for a pet. I mean, what are they good for? You might say companionship, but are they good companions? They kinda just do whatever they want when they want. They just ignore you until their hungry or want you to pet them, then they go shit in a box and wait to watch you clean up said shit. Some of them try to smother you to death in your sleep. I don’t need a pet that might kill me while I sleep.  I think that back when the first cats were being made pets, when the idea of putting a box in your home for them to shit in, that’s when somebody should of said “Yeah, that’s a stupid idea. Did you say a box? To shit in? Inside? Yeah, that’s stupid, let’s just get a dog.”

So here’s the thing: I don’t know why, but it irritates me when some has a name like “Johnathan” or “Michael” and that’s what they want to be called. Have you ever met a “Johnathan” and he goes by “Johnathan”? I hate that. I wanna just say “your name is John dude”. I know I shouldn’t care either way, but I can’t help it. The only way  a “Johnathan” should go by “Johnathan” is if they were British or at least talked in a British accent. Seriously, then it works. Do it in your head or out loud right now and tell me I’m wrong. Stupid “Johnathan”.

So here’s the thing: I’m going to tell you what not to do on a Wednesday night. Don’t get off work at three in the morning and stop by the corner gas station and get a chicken salad sandwich out of  a cooler that doesn’t feel cold enough to have food in it. Don’t eat that sandwich at three thirty in the morning with a side of cheddar cheese Ruffles. Don’t dip those cheddar cheese Ruffles in some ranch dip that has been in your fridge for long enough that you don’t remember buying it. Don’t wash it all down with twenty ounces of diet Dr. Pepper then immediately go to bed. I don’t like this Thursday.