Not really, but I do dislike one aspect of it. Like Sunday is the day before Monday, autumn is the season before winter and I really hate winter.
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Life of Brian
a proud part of the 90%
Not really, but I do dislike one aspect of it. Like Sunday is the day before Monday, autumn is the season before winter and I really hate winter.
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Don’t hate fall…it’s amazing! The leaves change to a hundred different shades of red, you get to watch football (or pretend to watch football which is really just a good excuse for a mid-Sunday nap) and the heat of summer finally stops weighing you down. It’s a new season and you can shed off regrets of what you did or didn’t do in the summer and start over again with the clean crisp air of fall.
Uh, in response to that last comment, during fall the leaves don’t change to gorgeous shades of red and orange and yellow. There are all just varying degrees of brown. Kind of like dirt.
And you may like fall, but fall doesn’t like you. In fact, it hates you. Given the chance, fall would eat you and everybody you care about.
Even if fall did eat my children I would be happy about it because I would know that they were devoured by the most wonderful season of the year. Speaking of devouring…have you ever noticed how praying mantises look out at the world through sly little beady eyes. You know they are just waiting for the day when they will finally make their move… starting with our little toes and chewing their way through the entire human race until they have gained dominion over the world.
Okay, yo we-ard. Praying mantises obviously are just paying penitence for past sins. They have much to be forgiven for.
So I have these crazy dreams every night. Every night. Last night my roommate and I were high school seniors in my 9th grade French class. My teacher was calling me “Didier” and pretending like she didn’t know who we were. She’s always been suspicious like that.
Then we were driving in my car and came up to this stoplight that wasn’t working. Or maybe it WAS working but was real hard to see. I think it was faking us out, so I was getting ready to drive through anyway when (in real life) the radio came on and I was listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers. And now I could really use some nachos.
I had some nachos today…not because I wanted them, but because they were free from one of those little peel off labels on a Taco Bell cup. I hate it when companies play me like that…Taco Bell knows nobody really likes those boring little chips with nasty high school cafeteria style cheese.
So they advertise for a prize giveaway featuring quesadillas, double decker tacos, grilled stuffed burritos and nachos. What they fail to mention is there are 5 stickers that say quesadilla or double decker and the other 5 billion say nachos…thereby forcing me to eat the aforementioned artery clogging cheese substitute just because I can not pass up a free meal. How do those Taco Bell guys sleep at night?
In a large bed, filled with many beautiful Spanish-speaking women.
Speaking of beds, I now sleep on this top bunk that is mere inches away from the ceiling. I have this theory. You know when someone puts their hand up right in front of your nose and you can kind of feel it, even when your eyes are closed? That’s what it’s like with me and the ceiling at night. I can FEEL it.
This, I think, is the reason I have crazy dreams every night. The house itself is messing with the chemical-electrical system of my brain.
This is just a theory, and it’s probably wrong. But it gets me through the night. Is it wrong to subscribe to a theory you know is false?
No, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with subscribing theories as long as they are based in truth. I do it all the time.
For example, I believe that eating peanut butter cookies and green olives from Dobbs constitutes as a well balanced meal (you’ve got your grains, your meats (peanuts), your vegetables and since I don’t know what those little pimentos fall under we’ll call them fruits.)
I also have a theory that all the people living in Antarctica are having a big uber party even as we speak. No one ever goes there to check it out because we assume there’s nothing but ice and snow. But in reality they are living it up and keeping the rest of us in the dark. As soon as I get the chance…I’m going there to expose their little secrete. If I don’t come back don’t worry about me…it just means I’m having frozen daiquiris.
Speaking of snow and sled dogs…what in the world are those little things on the background of this page? And where are their eye balls?
I subscribe to the theory that the only true healthy diet is pizza, popcorn and hard liquor. Lots of hard liquor. It’s a good everyday meal, a cure all, and it sure beats the Atkins and South Beach diets.
I think the little animals in the background are wolves howling at some moon we can’t see.
I have lots of weird dreams too. I seem to spend a lot of time in my dreams fighting Nazis in WWII, but in very bizarre locals, like in shopping malls. I wasn’t even alive when WWII happened.
Well it’s time to eat. Better warm up the pizza, pop the pop corn and pour me a run and coke.
Yeah, man, Atkins diet… That is a piece of work there. You can eat enough meat IN A DAY to send a whole league of vegans to their graves, but you have to skimp on the buns. You gotta ask yourself – is that really how you want to live your life? Wrapping beef in bacon? But it seems like everyone’s got a brother who lost 400 pounds in three weeks on it.
So earlier today I almost burnt down my pastor’s house. I turned the gas oven on to prepare it for my Mexican Fiesta Totino’s Pizza ($.97, Wal-Mart). Everything was proceeding in its normal fashion except for this weird crackling sound coming from below the rack. I looked at the oven and everything looked alright so I went back to watching football.
After a few minutes it smelled like I was at a campfire, which was really awesome because I haven’t been camping in a year. There were even flames!
What somehow happened is a couple skillets we keep stored in that drawer below the oven must have somehow got caught in the gas flame. The handles caught fire and now the whole place smells like burnt plastic.
But the pizza was fine. So, alls well that ends with a stomach full of pizza.
Speaking of fire…we had a fire alarm at 4am in the all girls dormitory where I work. It was the third one in two weeks…an initiation stunt from the frat house across the street. My roll in these drills is to run around the halls yelling as girls go flying from their rooms down the stairs in their pajamas or towels (as if a 9 story cement building is going to go up in flames before they have a chance to throw on a pair of shoes.)
I get to leave the building only after the girls are all out, so I’m always going up when everyone else is going down (a concept my mother isn’t too happy about.) 30 minutes later everyone was let back in, vowing to find the guy who had woken them from their beauty sleep and punishing him accordingly. If they do find that man…God save him.
Speaking of firemen…I found out that they carry two liters of Coke in their truck to clean blood off of the highways after car accidents. You can also dissolve a rat in 24 hours just by sticking it in a glass of Coke. I find it strange that we worry about eating only organic fruits and making sure we use anti-bacterial soap and all the while we are pouring acid down our esophagus.
One of the most amazing nights of my life happened this past week. From a heart pounding height amid breathtaking views, I found myself in the arms of a man that took my breath away more than the treacherous scaling of the building it took to get up there.
Though I love having random comment spam conversations with him … I am thrilled that not only do we get to have fun talking about the penitence of praying mantises and 9th grade French, but I get to share real life with him as well.
So all you late night internet junkies can just move on now…nothing more to see here. This comment spammer is signing off. I’ve got a real life adventure to start with fellow commenter, “Blank”.
YEAH!! FALL HATERS UNITE!!!
I think so.