I wrote this last night on my computer

using Microsoft Works Word Processor, and saved it to a CD, and the computers at work only have Word, and Word can't read Word Processor. Are you kidding? It's not even like I used Apple or Linux or anything else, they're both Microsoft. So anyway, it inserted a space after every character, and it took me too long to fix the first two paragraphs, so just deal with it.

ok I fixed it. Never mind.

So while I was suffering through another bathroom trip today at work, pulling my pants up after finishing my chores, I said to myself, "he pulls up his pants, grasping them by the seat, grabbing those pants by the back." And how about that: the back of pants is the same thing as the seat of pants. So I say we start calling a big ass a “backseat,” rather than, or in addition to, the phrase “junk in the trunk,” because “junk in the trunk” is vastly overused. Think of this for a moment please. “Whoah, dude, check out that girls backseat! You could land a Huey on that thing!”

Then I said, “boy, it sure is pretentious of me to narrate my own life. But it’s kind of funny too. Eccentric and cute. My narcissism is the best ever.” And then as I walked back to my desk, I said, “and narrating my own life has its upsides too. On the way to the bathroom, for example, as I reassuringly predicted that it would be unoccupied, and spoke soothingly while turning the knob and opening the door, I relieved myself.” And then I laughed lightly, and said, “he surely is a jokester.” And the cute girl from logistics looked at me like she had just eaten bad sushi.

If you’re wondering what the narration sounds like right now, it’s “he takes another sip of martini, which really isn’t good. He wonders why he made it for himself.”

Speaking of the bathroom, I would like to update/explain my William Carlos Williams imitation. I went in there on Monday, and discovered that the reason it smelled like someone had shit in the garbage was because someone had shit in the garbage. Trust me, it wasn’t as glamorous as it sounds. I peeked over the edge holding my breath, and saw a multitude of wadded toilet paper and paper towels smeared and covered in poop. So, yeah, someone took a dump in the trash. I shit you not. I wish he hadn’t either.

Now, on to the top fives. I thought top five lists would be a good idea to add; lists are alway fun. Like Schindler’s List. Who didn’t giggle all the way through that one? I guess I was still a little drunk this morning when I woke up, because I took notes for what seemed like a great top five while I was shaving, and texted them to myself. The list consisted of four words: “razor mustache hair temp.” So, great list, huh? But I will try to explain

Top Five things I was thinking while shaving this morning that seemed pretty damn profound at the time

1. Razor. I do not have a razor, so I shave with replacement blades, clutched between thumb and forefinger. And you know what? The blades are good, and a razor to fit them would cost $25 or so, and I think I can manage. So whatever.

2. Mustache. “Always apply shaving cream to your mustache last, because you can use as little or as much shaving cream as you need to make it come out even.” I was thinking this because I had already filled the sink (to rinse and re-rinse my nub of a razor) and I didn’t want to sully it with shaving cream before it was really time. I don’t know what about the upper lip seems perfect to bear a heap of shaving cream one day and a paucity the next. I think it might have had something to do with Hercule Poirot or whether bears give bear hugs, but I don’t really know.

3. Hair. I am one of those who, squeezed for time, will sacrifice a shower in the morning and instead splash water over my hair to create the appearance of having showered. Am I alone in this? Is this unethical?

side note: the martini is starting to taste better. He feels a growing warmth in his belly that makes him feel comfortably resolute against the cold wind at the windows.

4. Temp. I know this stands for temperature, not temporary or tempered steel or temptation, or Temple University, because I remember wondering if I needed to type it all out or if I would remember. Right about then, I had to stop texting myself and get dressed, because I was beginning to carve small holes in my undershirt with my frigid and erect nipples.

side note: My entire 53 gigabyte database of music (16000 some songs) was on shuffle, but Pete Yorn’s Nightcrawler just came on, and I am turning shuffle off. This is a good album

5. There was no number five. I guess I can say that my final thought while shaving was that it would be a good idea to text myself an awesome list that totally sucked. And that it was getting cold and my nipples had upgraded from firm to rigid and the graduation to diamond-cutter-erect was imminent.

I have been noticing that most bloggers whose blogs I really enjoy are big on two things: Arrested Development and alcohol. I guess since Arrested Development is the wittiest show ever on TV, good bloggers might like it. And I guess people who wast their lives with tons of TV and alcohol will also be the type to waste hours and hours blogging. So I aspire to greatness. I love Arrested Development, and alcohol is why I get up in the morning. And, excessive comma use.

Top three shows that I would rather have my knees taken out by a linebacker than watch

1. Ugly Betty. It’s pretty much one big platitude, one big exercise in apology for political correctness. I get it. Don’t judge. The acting and plot lines still suck and honestly, I don’t watch sitcoms for the life lessons, surprisingly enough. Plus, she’s ugly.

2. Grey’s Anatomy. I saw one episode of this show a year ago, or maybe two years ago, and I am certain that it is the worst show on TV. Ever. I felt very much like I did after reading the first Harry Potter book. After months of deriding and ridiculing, I began to lose credibility, because, well, I had never read a book or seen a show. So I did one of each. And they were so bad, I will never go there again. Sandra Oh looks like her time in the make-up trailer consists of a team of technicians lying her on her back and running over her face with a steamroller repeatedly. And then a touch of rouge, you re good to go, Sandra. And Ellen Pompeo is a tramp. Plus, she’s ugly.
3. Kid nation. If a show is going to take advantage of child-labor-law-loopholes and abuse children for extended periods of time in exchange for a nominal fee, at least it shouldn’t be really boring too. Plus, she’s ugly.

side note: my martini tastes really sweet now. Like, cloyingly sweet. I better freshen it up. Excuse me.

Oh, that reminds me: roofies. I guess I’ll have to tell you that story next time.

The word of the day is fiduciary. Just admit it, when you say it, you smirk a little bit.

Now about that martini.