When I do the Dishes I Smell Like Fishes

I feel so accomplished when I check something off a mental to-do list.

Unfortunately I haven’t had crap to do for about 4 weeks now even though my peers are stressing and stressing and stressing by messing everything up. I get this vibe, a vibe like I should be working harder but I’m working hard and I feel right just where I am in Urban Suburb, California, AKA Campbell and not Saratoga.

Always end a statement with a question so you never learn anything you already knew. What?

That way, everybody thinks you’re smart. Like a lawyer.

I know my rights, just like everybody doesn’t, and when an officer asks to check my bag, I tell him no. But never say no to a woman because no gets lost in translation as harassment. 

SO! I have a great pack of besties. Like sheep. Or something, but sheep is a bad word because that implies we all follow. What’s something that leads the way?

An eagle?

Yeah. We’re like eagles.

Except for some of us with mental illness, but that’s all of us, so shit, never mind. 

People react to me in exaggerated fashions, like a boy allergic to cats. The hell did the cat do to him? 

Nothing, but the boy’s body sends up a firewall to protect him against something that’s beneficial.

Who knows why allergies even exist. If the human body didn’t flip a beezy when introduced to a harmless substance, like urushiol or flowers or fresh strawberries, then there would be no trouble or pain associated with allergies. What’s up with that? Like, if the human body just ignored strawberries because they’re just some strawberries instead of going, STRAWBERRIES MAN THE HARPOONS, then nobody would ever die.

Fooled you. 

People always die.

I once read a brilliant poet, 

“Without life there would be no death/ Without death there would be no life”

Wow. True genius on Earth, if by genius you meant “lies.”

So what the hell does that mean? Death is awesome. If Kurt Cobain was still around his band would have burnt out like the Rolling Stones. Look at Pearl Jam.

They’ve spent the last decade deliberately tearing apart their own fame.

God, that bugs me. It’s like artistic humility and suicide.

Nobody should ever hide themselves from the truth no matter how horrible. To run from knowledge is to hide from acceptance and that is immaturity in its lowest form.

Don’t people always die?

“Most egregious a world we live in, Ted.”

“Most non-triumphant, Bill.”

Yeah, guys. It’s both of those things but it’s most excellent when you consider how awesome John Coltrane sounds on a winter’s eve by your lonesome.