a few thoughts (part 1 of 2)
(originally posted 6/16/2015)
Can you imagine the violence that would ensue if truth serum was somehow introduced into the water supply over a holiday weekend?
So what did we learn from the latest David Blaine special? That the easiest way to make celebrities look like dolts is to film them watching magic.
I remember when LEGO was just a bucket with a bunch of little building blocks in it. Now kids are given detailed instructions on exactly what to build with no pieces left over. What a great metaphor for childhood these days.
People ask me “Lance, do you ever run out of ideas for stories?” and I answer “Nope, just good ones.”
As my dog lay sleeping with her head in my lap she slowly transformed from a trusted and loyal friend to a dumb, oblivious animal as I gave myself permission to fart.
Ever have those turds that are too big? You sit there sweating and pushing like you’re giving birth. I call them “prison turds” because they remind me how THANKFUL I am I’m not in prison.
I always meant to ask my last girlfriend what it was she thought about during sex that stopped her from coming too quickly. Whatever it was, it worked great.
There are people who are born to leave you. There are people wired to stay. To blame either for being how they are is to be mad at the sky for being blue. (Feel free to explore this observation further by noting that what we call the sky is just a vague region of the atmosphere and the color is only because air molecules scatter blue light from the sun more than they do red. You could easily replace sky with space and black for blue. Would that change how you feel about the first two lines?)
You know what would make a great holiday special? Having little people dressed as elves drag everyone involved in the decision to make a sequel to “A Christmas Story” in front of a Santa who will then chainsaw their heads off.
Hope springs eternal. It’s annoying like that. Cynicism, on the other hand, just sits there.
When you understand just how many things go on in order to pee it makes you want to at least say “Release the urine!” every time you’re standing in front of the toilet.
While on hold yesterday the message I was hearing made two things clear: 1. I may be being recorded. 2. I was free to press 0 at any time. Speaking in a strong firm voice I let the message know that I was free to press ANY number at any time. I wanted to let it know exactly who it was dealing with. I hope that it was recorded.
If you talk to any old person, all of their conversations can be distilled down to one simple thought: getting older blows.
If a woman didn’t have nipples I bet we’d be ok with them walking around topless.
“Cough… cough,” he coughed.
Sometimes I think that I’m nothing more than a machine to turn onion rings into odd-smelling farts.
Listening to a Barry White tune today I was able to improvise an entire song’s worth of lyrics. Granted at least 50% of the time I was singing “Put your hands on my penis.” (Note: This is not as funny if one is not listening to a Barry White song)
Listening to the stranger next to me. Her breathing is a lullaby. A lullaby that doesn’t rhyme and causes me to lose my boner.
Had to delete a story today. Entitled “Hope is a Cruel Mistress,” it was tale of a married man who was dating a girl on the side named Hope who was cruel. It was so choked with metaphors that the Word program kept freezing.
It appears impossible to leave Jiffy Lube without spending over $100 on a $40 oil change. I had no idea my car had so many fluids and belts that needed replacing. Finally I was forced to pull the greasy man over the counter and explain that I didn’t care if they found human remains in my air filter I wasn’t interested in replacing it.
Justt wantedd too seee howw cooll myy writingg wouldd bee withh aa littlee reverbb.
While I appreciate the fact that the folks at Hallmark Cards went to the trouble of exhuming the two ladies working at the checkout, and will no doubt return them to their graves after the holiday rush is over, there to wait until next season’s shopping frenzy again summons them from the cold confines of their caskets, I do wish they could move the storeroom, where they apparently keep the boxes in which every little ceramic figurine comes in, a little closer to the front counter. And by closer, I mean not at the other end of the store. And while they’re at it perhaps even shrink the size of the storage area down from the four football fields it appears to occupy so when the old corpses drag themselves back there for each and every customer that has had the misfortune of walking through the Hallmark doors and decided to purchase something they could be gone for less than an hour.
Last night, looking out my window and seeing a neighbor’s light on through a small wooded area in the development next to mine, and then looking up and seeing the light from a star hundreds of billions of miles away, and noticing that they look almost identical, I could not help but feel that my neighbor’s light just wasn’t trying. There was also a metaphor about celebrity in our culture in there somewhere but I just couldn’t be bothered to sort it out. That’s how disappointed I was in my neighbor’s light.
I don’t enjoy watching people dance well. I don’t dislike people who dance well; I just find their dancing tedious to watch. I like to watch bad dancers. I could watch a bad dancer all night.
A mayfly lives for only one day. When it rains that entire day you know that they must look skyward and think to themselves “Well that sucks.” When one of them gets eaten after only a few hours the rest must be thinking to themselves “What a shame. He was so young.” They don’t have mouths, so that why they have to think everything to themselves.
The news never reports the things I want to know, i.e. was the jumper wearing Life Is Good apparel?
I always give mock advice as a way to make fun of people who feel so self-important that they give advice but today I’d like to give some actual advice: give mock advice as a way to make fun of people who feel so self-important that they give advice.
Living without regret is a ridiculous expectation. If you come to the end of your life with no regrets all that shows is an astounding lack of imagination.
I read that only 30% of woman can achieve an orgasm through intercourse. Here’s hoping that the other 70% will make it their New Year’s resolution to get their vaginas fixed.
“Caveat Emptor” – Let the buyer beware. “Just Pay Separate Process And Handling” – The buyer is an idiot who is about to get screwed.
Always remember… a hot knife through butter is fast, but a knife through hot butter is faster.
It seems that the word sweater has a negative connotation built into it. Instead of a cozy item to wear on a cold day it seems to indicate it somehow creates sweat. “He won’t talk eh? Put on the sweater.”
I love pulling a grey hair. It’s like fighting against the ravages of time without actually having to do any exercise. An epic tug.
Typically a fart comes out front to back. This one was more left to right. I was farting and then one-tenth of a second later I was done. Felt great.
Yesterday I got my daily e-mail from a service that sends out requests for guests for various entertainment outlets and among these pleas was “Looking for couples who got engaged in a Costco.” Ironically, I too am looking for these same couples … so I can talk to them about sterilization.
I have a pet rash. I keep him on my arm.
Last night at the mall I saw an awkward teenager who reminded me of myself at that age. Nerdy, unfashionably dressed, bad haircut. The whole package. I wanted to go up to him and throw my arm around him and say “I know right now life seems tough and unfair and everything seems an uphill battle but believe me… it gets much worse.”
I’m realizing that a lot of celebrities don’t have the complexion for 60” HD televisions. Hunks of make-up clinging to nooks and crannies as if it had been applied to an English muffin. A bit distracting.
I had a dream last night about camping. When I woke there was a faint smoky smell in the room and crumbs in my bed from the s’mores I had eaten. When I went downstairs I found the kitchen had been ransacked by raccoons. You could argue the sound of this ruckus was the reason I chose to dream about camping or you could believe, as I do, that I dreamt raccoons into existence. And they had antennae and human smiles.
Stalkers, a word of advice: make sure not to lose sight of what put you in that shrub by the window in the first place. Enjoy yourself or march right out and find something else to do with your life.
I can trace some of my problems back to my childhood and the toilet-flushing policy in my house: If it’s yellow let it mellow, if it’s brown also let it mellow. Our house smelled bad.
Read the word revolver. You picture a gun. I did anyway. Now remember that it is named so because it has a revolving cylinder containing multiple chambers and a barrel for firing. The cylinder revolves. This allows the user to fire multiple rounds without reloading and was a giant leap forward over the single barrel weapons that preceded it. Now read the word again. Revolver. Doesn’t it seem different? With the emphasis on “revolve” I get a weird tingle in my brain now. Probably just me.
Replaced all the wooden doors in the house with three inch thick granite ones. I prefer a more dramatic sound when they close behind me. It’s working.
I saw a car stuck in the snow so I quickly pulled in front of it and secured a rope to the front bumper. With one quick push on my accelerator the bumper gave way and I drove off dragging it behind me. I thought to myself “That makes six.”
Traumatic experience #37: When I was a kid I showered at a relative’s house and they handed me a towel and said it was “thick and thirsty.” Ever since I’ve been terrified by the idea of a thirsty towel. Why couldn’t they have just said plush?
The difference between being embarrassed and being ashamed of your behavior is a thin line usually directly connected to alcohol intake. Following that train of thought I have a feeling when I remember last night’s events, or have them recounted for me, I will be revolted.
I don’t mean to brag but I’ll bet that when you hear that someone evacuated their bowels, I imagine it a lot more orderly than you do.
Women seem to violate the laws of gravity, i.e. they are easier to pick up than drop.
Love has gone when you stop kissing, not when you stop fucking.
Spent the night drinking and unsuccessfully trying to come up with a difference between my previous books and the journals kept by Kevin Spacey’s character in “Seven.”
When I’m watching porn there is nothing I hate more than when they show the man and woman initially talking and then cut to them banging away. It’s like when I buy a new car. If I’m in the showroom and I find one I like I don’t want to blink and find myself driving off the lot.
Watching UFC makes me wish cloning technology was much further along. While Barao vs. Faber is an ok fight, Faber vs. Faber would be awesome.
I can never quite relate to people that don’t pick their nose when nobody is looking.
Some days time passes leisurely and others it seems to be marching relentlessly forward, determined to return us to a state of unconscious elements. Don’t let circumstances fool you, it’s always the latter.
The only female super hero I thought was ever named appropriately is Wonder Woman. The word “Wonder” can be used as a noun (miraculous deed or event; remarkable phenomenon; something strange and surprising; a cause of astonishment or admiration) or a verb (to speculate curiously or be curious about; to doubt) … much like every woman I’ve ever known. Her weapon? A lasso that compels all beings who come into contact with it to tell the absolute truth. Thank goodness she’s the only gal with one of those.
Whenever you buy anything you are deciding amongst different options provided by different competitors. You are creating a single winner and multiple losers. Given that, I only have one question: “How could you?”
I laid there pretending I was asleep. She laid there pretending to sleep. Introductions can be so awkward.
The professor handed each student a mirror and said “Today we’re going to be studying entropy.”
I’ve never written to be popular or been popular.
Whenever I’m having a conversation with someone and they blink I immediately think to myself “They just spread a mixture of oils and mucous secretions across the surface of their eyes to keep them from drying out.” Makes it hard to follow what they’re saying but it’s their fault if they’re going to be standing there blinking the whole time.
Tom Hanks was ok as Captain Phillips but I’d rather have seen Emo Philips play the part. Or have Tom Hanks play Captain Emo Philips.
I’d like to open a restaurant in Hollywood called Gruel. All the hipsters would assume the name is ironic but I would serve nothing but cornmeal boiled in water. It would no doubt be a wild success. “Would you like that runny or extra runny Mr. De Niro?”
The problem some kids have with standing up to a bully is the part where they pin them to ground and repeatedly punch them in the face in front of all their friends.
While taking candy from a baby might appear easy, there are emotional tolls to consider.
I refuse to feel bad that my frozen dinner had chocolate pudding. If everyone was so damn worried about getting chicken fingers, leaving me with fish sticks, they sure as hell can choke down their corn without complaint.
I just had the feeling that it was going to be one of those moments where somebody would snarl at me “You’re better than that” and I would whimper “No. I’m really not” before slinking out.
I don’t completely trust any language where the word “manhandle” doesn’t have something to do with masturbation.
St. Patty’s Day research completed: How many green beers does it take to begin hearing voices in the bagpipes? Nine.
I refuse to stay at a La Quinta until they change their name to The Fifth. This is ‘Merica, damn it.
Perhaps what nobody likes to admit to themselves is that they can leave any time they want. If they’re here, wherever here might be, they are here because they choose to be.
It’s gotten to the point where we can only hear truth from comedians. Politicians and businessmen are incapable of it. Comedians don’t even have to be funny anymore, we’ll pay them to stand on a stage and yell common sense at us. How fucked are we?
When someone asks you to pick a number between 1 and 10, don’t pick 1. Or 10. Do I even have to explain it? Nobody wants you picking 1 or 10. You’re going to end up making people ask you to pick a number between 2 and 9. Is that what you want?
The thing about polarizing writers is that we’re always looking to increase the size of our pole.
I think the plan to just ignore the rampant violence and crime in the inner cities in the hopes that it will somehow just go away is going to work out splendidly for everybody.
Whenever someone says “I like to consider myself an intelligent person,” what they really mean is that they like to consider themselves a more intelligent person than they are. Having said that, I just watched the India vs. Sri Lanka cricket match for two HOURS and, while I like to consider myself an intelligent person, I could not figure out how the game of cricket is played.
Every time I watch Alien I spend the whole movie marveling at how small Sigourney Weaver’s mouth is. Not that she would necessarily be willing but I don’t think I could get it all in.
Mark my words, one day that Cocoa Puffs bird is going to kill somebody.
I remember this girl. I thought she was the one… until the fateful day I snooped in her medicine cabinet and found a packet of Preparation H Medicated Wipes. When I think how close I came to asking her to be Mrs. Manion… really dodged a bullet there.
How can you trust a language where the word “umlaut” doesn’t have an umlaut?
You know the music that plays in the background of movies that tells you if things are great or if they are about to get scary? It’s there in real life too. You just have to really listen.
In the interest of full disclosure, the ruler I have tattooed on my inner thigh is not entirely accurate … but it helps sell the product.
Tiny farts can be more socially crippling than large ones. I’d rather have somebody think I farted than think that’s how I smell.
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