Awkward thing no. 242112392 I dream of saying

Random salesgirl at store: Can I help you?
Andy: I'm lonely.

I'm just a boy with a new haircut and that's a pretty nice haircut

When I get a haircut, I always say, "Do whatever you want," and I always get a similar haircut.

And what is it with hipster girls and mullets?

Appreciation Inflation

Every morning, when I get off the bus, I say thank you to the bus driver. I do this because everyone else does it and I don't want to seem rude, but I am not going to do it anymore; not because I want to be rude, but because it is inaccurate and a degradation of language.
We've become overly polite and thank people for doing things they're supposed to do. Like thanking the postman when he brings you mail. It's his job to bring you mail and he gets paid to do it! And these are good jobs. It's not like they're doing us a favor, or performing a job that is difficult/underpaid/or doing something no one else wants to do. From now on, I might say Good Morning or Good Afternoon, but I'm not thanking them anymore. I'm not apologizing to the homeless anymore, either. When they ask me if I can spare any change, I am going to say no.

Do Not Pass Go.

New five dollar bills with more color were introduced recently:



Apparently, the US Dollar has become so worthless that the Treasury decided to just go ahead and make it interchangeable with Monopoly money.

Put your clothes back on young lady!

A friend once said to me, with some disgust, that many of the girls I pointed out as being attractive while we were walking around were slutty looking. I denied this at first (vehemently), but then realized it is absolutely true. Slutty girls ARE attractive. That's the whole point. If slutty girls weren't trying to attract men (if not specifically me) with their provocative clothes and pouty looks, then they wouldn't dress that way at all. Who am I to deny them success after all the trouble they went to?

My most awesome dream.

In the hour between after being briefly woken up by my roommates being loud getting up and when I actually got up, I had the most narratively cohesive dream I have ever had. It is like a mish-mash of various folk and fairy tales and flowers for algernon, and someone should tell me if it is lifted entirely out of something. But anyway:

By some scientific process, which involved cells or sperm or something, I invented a half animal that could speak. This part of the dream I forget a little, but I am sure it is scientifically sound. I paraded my new pet to my friends and we drove around, and it was pretty cool. She started growing and looking more and more like a girl, though I knew she was still part animal, and we hung out a lot because she had no one else. She had shoulder length dark hair, cut at a severe angle rising towards the back, and was easy to take around because she was unfamiliar with everything. I didn't quite trust her though, and by the time she was my height, she was growing at such a fantastically fast rate, I began to get scared that she'd become much larger and then eat me.

Because of my fear, and my innate greed, I resolved to take her to the zoo and sell her for a lot of money. So I told her we'd go for a walk, and she trusted me of course, and somehow this was a really really long walk to the zoo. She continued to age, but without getting taller or bigger, and halfway to the zoo her hair had gone gray and she had become tired from the walking, and I had become guilt-ridden about my awful plan to sell her to the zoo, so I brought her back home.

I realized I loved her, and we had a brief moment as she was lying in bed, and then she died of old age.

And then I woke up and I was sad because it seems inevitable that I am going to lose anything good that might ever happen to me.

Giving Bush the finger

I should really take my economic stimulus tax rebate and donate it to the Democratic presidential nominee.

Speaking of Lint

Am I the only person who finds it immensely satisfying to clean the lint filter in the dryer?