and in conclusion pt. 1

If life hands you lemons and you don’t like lemonade, then what?

It’s awkward when you share something that you think is universal but then you find out it’s only you. For instance, recounting to a friend how before a big date you plucked the hairs on your dick… without knowing that not everyone has rogue hairs halfway up their pole.

I hate when I’m listening to someone being interviewed and they respond to a question by saying “Well, that could be a whole show right there.” You’re ON a whole show, dimwit. Stop taking yourself so seriously and answer the fucking question!

The magic of movies is that from the most unlikely source something profound can emerge. Something transformative. A simply truth that transcends the moment. Such was the case in “Kindergarten Cop” when an adorable little tyke stepped up and uttered the words that would forever change me: “Boys have a penis, girls have a vagina.”

Nothing tells me that the person I’m listening to is a complete moron faster than hearing the words “You know what I’m saying?” said after every sentence. I want to explain that if at any time they lose me in their incoherent babbling, I will stop them and say “I don’t know what you’re saying,” but otherwise they should assume I’m on board and not keep asking me because it makes me want to shoot them in their empty head.

The next time you see a group of teenagers laughing at you, just remember that when you were a teenager you would have laughed at you too.

There’s something weird about having only one nostril drip but I can’t quite put my finger in it.

Every time I see a dead fox by the side of the road, I wonder if the car that hit it was particularly wily.

Just imagine that you’re wood pulp. Sitting there not knowing if you’re destined to be a newspaper, a post-it note, or toilet paper.

The married man scrunched up his face and thought “For better or worse is one thing, but poison ivy? She looks hideous!”

Certain things you eat can change how your farts smell. Like feces. If you eat feces, your farts will smell like shit.

Earlier today, I was driving with the window down and I couldn’t help notice how loud the crickets sounded. Then I realized it was one particular cricket. I know you’re expecting me to say that there was a 40-foot high cricket crashing through the brush next to the road… but don’t be stupid. That wouldn’t make any sense at all. It’s actually insulting that you believe I would say something like that. It was actually a normal-sized cricket. Running 50 mph next to the car.

I started out thinking the best way to explain how easy it is for a centipede to manage all those legs would be to give an example of how a one-armed creature might think that a second would be unwieldy when it’s not. Then of all a sudden I was wondering if I had to choose between one arm or one leg which I would choose, i.e. did I want to spend my life crawling around and pulling myself forward with an arm or did I want to hop around with no way to grab anything? It’s exhausting being me.