Tic Toc

Some days, I don’t do anything. That’s not to say I don’t have things I should be doing. I just don’t do anything. On those days, I like to play games with myself to pass the time.

My favorite game is to try to be looking at a clock when it says 11:06 (my birthday). It has to be a digital clock because, well, using hand clocks defeat the purpose. I’ve gone so far as to set reminders on my Outlook calendar to remind me at 11:05, but I turned that off because the game isn’t as fun.

One other game I like to play is to stand directly behind someone and gently blow. The trick is to get the right amount of saliva, or it ruins the effect. I ruined it once by sneezing at the worst time possible. The only way I could think of to make them not think about the fact that I just sneezed on their neck was to cause a diversion. So I burped. It was tuna. Then I turned around and skipped down the hallways. Or maybe it was a shuffle.

Oh my, tis a wee bit nipply in here

The scientific process of "nipping out" has always intrigued me. Why is it that this one very specific portion of the human body react so intensely to changes in the weather? And why does it always draw the human eye there?

I was shooting pool a few days ago and was wearing a shirt that a 10 year old could probably fit. I chose this shirt on purpose because it was a pool league night and I like to psych the competition out. Before the match, I dipped my fingers into some ice water and rubbed them on my nipples.

Besides the rush of emotions I felt, I got the reaction I wanted; some nice nippling out effect. When I went to go meet my opponent, his eyes drifted down to my chest.

"Yes sir, those ARE indeed some pointed nipples. Now, lets go shoot some pool."

Eggs Benedict, hold the baby please

My friend gave me a daily "Would You Rather" calendar for Christmas. My good buddy also received one. We discuss them like Socrates discussed philosophy:



C: How awkward would it be to put jam on a baby and start eating it?
ME: There's only one way to find out.
C: Next time we go to Tom's Pancake House let's ask for a side of baby.
ME: We’ll put it up next to an English muffin and see if you can tell the difference.
C: "C, NO!!!!!!!! That’s my kid….not a tasty breakfast pastry."

Awkward is awkward to spell

I hate super long hallways at work. Inevitably, someone will be coming down the other end at the same time you are. You want to be polite and say "hi", but when do you do it? Do you acknowledge them as soon as you see them? Do you do the lame hand flip and then a "hello" when you're closer? Worse yet is when you make eye contact and hold onto it until you past each other. Awkward...

I once had a dream in which I was in the same hallway but instead of a coworker coming out, there were two rottweilers. They were the mean kind, the ones that you see on TV that roam around the haunted junkyard. My first thought was

That's one ugly dog.

One of the dogs turned and looked at me because apparently dogs can read minds. He got this really menacing look on his face. So I thought

If you can read my mind, start giving it to your gay doggy pal.

And he did. Oh boy did he ever. So there I was, in a long hallway, watching two gay dogs do it.