him: how come the google.com image today is just a different drawing of a penis every time??? me: Are you crazy? That is definitely a vag. him: are you sure? i keep refreshing and it’s just dicks dicks dicks me: Or maybe it’s… my father…? him: here’s a reply to your comment I refuse to post “I see my mom… made out of dicks? and she’s looking hot!!!!!” me: I mean, if you posted that, I’d probably stab my own eyes out…
(Btw the Google homepage today gives you a random Rorschach test.)
Did you know that whenever the President poops outside the White House, someone has to collect his poop so our enemies can't analyze it to find out his medications, weaknesses, etc.?
You think the White House makes an intern do it? Like, an intern with a plastic baggy follows the President around like he’s a dog walker? As in, the President makes a little poopie and then the intern goes into the Wendy’s men’s room or whatever and picks up the poop so the Taliban can’t have it.
And then after the poop is collected, maybe the poop goes into a lil’ scrap book or something. A scrap book of presidential poop secrets.
Just realized, to my horror, that I had multiple browser windows open in the background
Like my “main” Chrome window - the one I was actively using - they each had Gmail, Facebook, and Tumblr open (among other miscellaneous tabs).
How long ago did I abandon those browser windows? Why would I open a new browser window and start over?
In one college psych class, I learned about fugue state amnesia. With it, people suddenly forget everything about their lives, so one day they just up and move away from their jobs and loved ones, and they go someplace else and assume a new identity. They can go off and start a new family without having any idea they already had one.
I know it was just a few stray browser windows, but it made me feel like one of those people.
There's a dude in a Captain Hook costume walking around the Loop posing with tourists
Because obviously Peter Pan is on everyone’s minds all the time so it’s perfectly reasonable to put on the ol’ homemade Captain Hook costume and get photographed with children next to zero boats or beaches.
Nope, nothing weird about it. I think we all have fond memories of putting on our Captain Hook costumes and walking around downtown Chicago by ourselves on a warm summer day.
A very normal thing we can all understand and relate to.
I’m fascinated with the idea that the best Mexican food is going to come from the most unassuming places. For example, the best tacos al pastor I’ve ever had came from a taqueria in the back of a Mexican grocery store I never would’ve noticed had the Internet not told me about it. So, now I assume that the worse a Mexican restaurant’s logo is, the better the food is going to be. As in, the owners don’t obsess about color choices or fonts; they’re too busy making great food.
So now whenever I’m walking around town and I see a modest-looking Mexican restaurant, and the sign’s got, like, a drawing of a dude in a sombrero chasing after a burrito like it’s a pretty lady in a Looney Tunes short - with his eyes bugging out and little speed lines behind him - and his feet are big and blocky, and his mustache is all crooked, I’ll think things like, “Wow, that guy’s drawn super fucked up. These tacos must be incredible.”
So I read recently that the latest season of the French version of Survivor was canceled because a contestent DIED during filming. That’s terrible news.
But what if, uh… what if he wasn’t disqualified? Like, there wasn’t a rule for that, so they kept him around? And maybe it’s done Weekend at Bernie’s style.
So they go to the voting ceremony for one round, and this one contestant Kay is really badmouthing Steve, the recently dead guy. And everyone gets a turn in the voting booth, giving their testimonials, and people are saying things like, “Kay was kind of rude today, but Steve IS dead, so that won’t help our team win challenges. But I dunno I just don’t like Kay’s negativity.”
Next guy goes up. “Kay’s a real asshole,” and he shows his vote for Kay.
Cut to Steve in the testimonial booth and he’s just a dead body wearing sunglasses. Caption: “(Steve abstains)”
French Jeff Probst reads the results. Kay is voted out.
Kay is like “WHAT THE FUCK” and gets out of there.
A cheering circle forms with Steve in it, and everyone is really excited. Maybe Steve’s sunglasses fall off in all the celebrating, and someone puts them back on him.
I’ve watched the BBC’s Sherlock, so now I think that it’s important to notice small details. It’s stupid but I’m sure I’m not the only one who does this.
This morning I noticed a coworker drinking a particular type of coffee, and that told me how she gets to work, because that particular coffee shop only exists near a particular train station.
So now I know more about that coworker’s commute based on her coffee cup, and I feel pretty smart about it.
But the ONLY way that knowledge will EVER be useful to me is if that coworker is framed for murder. So here I am, sort of wishing she gets framed for murder so I can share my fun fact with everyone.
Like, someone bursts into the office in a panic. “Karen’s been taken away by the police! She’s accused of murdering someone on a bus this morning during her commute to work!”
Then I stand up and proclaim, “Nonsense! She takes a train that comes out of Millennium Station! I know that because of her RoM coffee cup that one time! She’s innocent!”
Karen is immediately released from jail because of my watertight logic, and I am hoisted on everyone’s shoulders and carried into a red convertible outside, which immediately leads a spontaneous parade in my honor.
I am given a sash that says “#1 COFFEE NOTICER.”
After a couple hours, the marching band is exhausted from playing “The Star-Spangled Banner” 30 times in a row, but it presses on, because I’m such a smart guy and it’s worth it.
But no. Instead, I’m just sitting here with this information, very much paradeless. And I’ll continue feeling pretty clever about my logic so long as that particular coffee shop doesn’t open any more goddamn locations.