Fleetmack.com - Random Thoughts V

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"I have a cheese-shredder at home, which is its positive name. They don't call it by its negative name, which is sponge-ruiner." --Mitch Hedberg

Random Thoughts part V
by Bryan Mack
01-25-2005

The key to getting a good nights sleep every night: Stay awake until you can't possibly hold your eyes open another second......or you can take up heroin. I do one of these, but I can't remember which. Apparently memory loss is a side-effect of heroin.........or was it lack of sleep. I don't remember. Too much heroin in my system, oh wait, I meant caffeine. And by caffeine, I mean alcohol. This paragraph makes no sense so stop reading it now.

The button to open the drawer on a cd or dvd drive on a computer is below the drawer. That's wrong. When I want to close it, I akwardly reach around the ajar drawer and feel for the button. It's as if when I change my tire, I like to reach through the hubcap holes to loosen and tighten the lugnuts instead of removing the hubcap. Just put the button on top of the cd drawer.

When two companies unite to form one giant company, they call this a merger. Conoco merged with Phillips to make Conoco-Phillips. Coors and Molson merged to create Molson Coors. Nextel and Sprint merged to form some combination of their two names. The trend is for two similar corporations to unite. I think we need two completely different companies that would fit the same demographic to combine their efforts. Like Taco Bell could merge with Depends Undergarments. That way you can eat shitty food that makes you shit your pants and never have to leave your local, neighborhood Taco Bell to destroy your home lavatory.

I'm a swimmer, I'm using fleetmack's locker room shower. I carry a towel with me to the shower, shower with my swimsuit on, drip water all over the place as I carry my towel with me back to my locker, then I dry off with the still-unused towel. I have no idea why I carried my towel with me to the shower in the first place as I didn't use it for anything but a prop, but I did manage to drip roughly 2 gallons of water all over the locker room tile. I love making fleetmack get his socks wet before he puts his shoes on. I am the most hated type of human being on earth. I hope a shark eats me. But first I hope it bites my penis off, actually it already did, that's why I still wear my swimsuit in the shower.

Grocery shopping, for me, takes place at Safeway. Judging by the name, it's haven for McGruff and other safety advocates. I would like to start a chain of grocery stores called Un-Safe-way. We will only sell household products without poison warnings. Our pharmacy will not have childproof caps on the bottles. Our produce will not be moistened periodically. Each of the grocery carts will have bayonets on the ends. The child seats will not buckle. All dairy products will have surpassed their expiration date. The automatic doors will close on you. Children will be running at wild in the parking lots, and we will not be insured. We will be sponsored by Hannibal Lectar. Our slogan could be Un-Safe-Way - Watch the fuck out! I think we'd file for Chapter 11 within minutes.

My favorite moment in my hotel-staying-at life was the summer after my junior year of high school. None of us liked coffee so we put Mug Root Beer in the coffee maker instead of water, and mixed it with Folgers crystals. We called it Mug-fee. Don't ever drink Mug-fee.

I use a Gillette Sensor Excel razor blade (on the occasions that I actually shave!). They have no consistency whatsoever with regards to the quality of the blade. Some last me up to 5 or 6 shaves, other blades don't even make it through one shave. What gives? Who works in Q.A. over at Gillette? Joaquin Phoenix and the guy from Red Dragon?!

If I'm at a urinal, and I'm at the end, and all other urinals are vacant, why would anyone ever piss right next to me instead of at the other end? From what I was taught, this is a rule of thumb. Maybe the guy pissing by me only has 4 metacarpals, the missing one: the thumb.

I wonder if Number 2 from Austin Powers is the clothing inspector for eye patches. I also wonder if he's related to Number 17 (the guy who inspected my new champion sweatsocks). If so, I'd like to punch him, one of my socks tore the first time I wore it. Some inspector you are, 17....go back to hanging with N.C. and being a rating for really explicit movies, I have no faith in your inspecting abilities any more.

I changed my brakes last night, this allows me to stop faster. I don't know how I'm going to adapt to this situation. I have a feeling that on my drive home tonight I'll be stopping about 10 yards before every light since my brakes are in top-notch shape. LOOK OUT FOR THAT BIKER!!!!! "I'm sorry sir, are you ok?" You stopped 200 feet before you hit me, of course I'm ok. If I throw a baseball through your window in the next 2 weeks, I'm suing Checker Auto Parts for not telling me that installing new brakes strongly fucks up your depth perception.

It seems like wherever I go, I'm last in line. The lines to everything are always tremendously long and I get there and I'm the last person there. Ok, that's the case for everyone, when you arrive you're last. But how come nobody gets behind me until I'm done? If I'm at Subway I get in line, I'm last, I'm done eating before anyone enters the store after me. If I ride the ski lift, the line is 200 people long, I'm last, and I'm back down the mountain again before anyone else gets back in line. If I go to the car wash...well, you get the picture. There's never anybody behind me. Maybe I have a hideous ass or something. Now I sound like a girl, and it's that time of the month, and I just got dumped after I watched a Sex in the City marathon, and my vag is bleeding. Ok, I'll stop now, the guy behind me is getting pissed....oh wait.....

I've discovered the true meanings of heaven and hell....
Heaven: Having my voice mail box filled on my cell phone and keeping my phone off. Nobody can get a hold of me or leave me a message except when I turn my phone on and call them.
Hell: Eating at Joe's Crab Shack.

On that lovely day in the late 1960's when Carol and Mike Brady wed, why did Cindy, Jan, and Marcia change their last names to "Brady" as well? That's rather abnormal for children to change their last name if the parents re-marry, don't you think? And why was there NEVER mention of the ex-husband and ex-wife of the parents on The Brady Bunch. It's as if they were in some accident that everyone is afraid to speak of. "Hey Carol! Remember when you ex-husband ate a billion maggots on a 60's version of Fear Factor and they ate through his stomach and took over Pennsylvania, and in the commotion, the mob cracked the Liberty Bell?" Yeah....the truth hurts, people.

Why does every girl on Earth think she can sing I Will Survive on karaoke night? If you sing it any more, I will make you no longer survive.

My weekly visit to the local Safeway grocery store usually takes place on Tuesday or Wednesday. I plan out what I'm going to make for the week. Chicken & Rice, Salmon with steamed vegetables, a frozen pizza for lazy night, tuna sandwiches, etc. I'm amazed at how many good meals I get planned. Then I say "fuck it", buy 2 bags of chips and a keg of salsa and that's all I eat all week. I throw away a lot of spoiled food.

I don't care if Smith is a popular last name or not. If you have the last name Smith, and you meet someone - who isn't related to you in any way - who also has the last name Smith...you can't get married. That's just weird. Unless the female Smith marries someone else first and changes her name to Jones then divorces, because then she's not a Smith anymore, so you can be her second husband. On that same note, why are all hyphenated last names weird? Like the Menendez-Daphneski family? You never hear of a Smith-Jones for a last name. If two un-related people with the same last name got married, but the female wanted to keep her name, would she hyphenate it and be called Janet Smith-Smith? That'd be funny. It's like, "Come on, Janet. You only need one 'Smith' in your name. You crazy bitch. Go listen to some more Lillith Fair compilation albums." And when generations get older, and Mike Smith-Jones wants to marry Jane Jones-Smith....will her new name be Jane Jones-Smith-Smith-Jones? I sure hope not, finding her in the phone book would be next to impossible. I already have enough trouble using the yellow pages.

The other day I took a look around my bedroom. It lies somewhere between a college kid's bedroom and a grow up's bedroom. I have nice things on the wall, somewhat nice furniture, etc. But then I have my random 2 boxes with an afghan over it and I have a RATM and 2 Pink Floyd posters on the wall. I'm 26 years old, it's time to grow up. I really want to have nice things and ditch the college atmosphere of my apartment, but I'd miss it to much. I've discovered a solution, but it can't happen until I buy a house. When I get a house, I'm going to make one of the bedrooms a dorm room where I can just go and chill out and feel like I'm in college again. I'll have a twin bed mattress that I'll throw on a loft. I'll put my desk and computer under the loft. I'll put my 20" TV in there, my dorm fridge, all my college posters, some Christmas lights, a couch, chair, and end tables, and a bookshelf with all my playboys and sports magazines on it. I'll certainly have my 16" pioneer speakers hooked up! I can hang up a Brooke Burke calendar and keep a case of Busch Light in the fridge. I'll also have someplace to store my college textbooks! It'll be so sweet, before we go to the bars, we can jam 8 or 9 people into this small bedroom and crouch around a TV and watch something stupid while bonging beers. It'll rule. Then when I bring a girl home from the bar, we can go to my classy living room with nice wall art, nice furniture and entertainment equipment, etc. I'll be both classy and a kid at heart...and best of all, I won't have to get rid of my gigantic Pink Floyd and RATM posters. Maybe I can rent a monkey for a weekend sometime. That'd be cool because everyone associates monkeys with dorm rooms. Well, they do in a dream world, anyways.

We were at a bar the other night and this drunk guy came up to us and started telling us about how God gave him the gift of playing basketball well. I said "I got a gift once, it was Hungry Hungry Hippos. I'm best using the blue hippo." He looked at me as if he was confused. I didn't understand why. This really happened, and I don't know why I'm telling you this.

It happened again last night. I was sitting at home with a list of 200 things to do but for some reason, I was laying on the couch with the remote. As I changed the channels to Fox I saw that there was a Family Guy marathon on. I just had to watch it, commercials and all. Now, I've seen the Family Guy - every episode - about 7 times, but I can still understand why I wanted to watch it, it's hysterical. My question is, when I have every season on DVD and those are sitting 2 feet from the tv, why don't I just get up and put in my DVD's so I can watch without commercials? I wasted a good 40 minutes of watching commercials for 2 hours. I do this countless times. The Abyss, Pulp Fiction, Dazed and Confused - if any of these come on TV, I feel compelled to watch it even though I own it and it's 2 feet away. Why the hell do I do this? I don't even change the channel when commercials come on! I don't think I'm alone in this department.

Doesn't it suck when you get a chocolate chip cookie, you bite into it, and you find out they aren't chocolate chips...they're raisins. It'd be worsened if you were allergic to raisins. "Here have a chocolate chip cookie......AND A WEEK IN THE HOSPITAL!" That'd be as bad as being allergic to methadone if you were hooked on heroin. Wow, what would you do in that situation? I guess die, bummer.

If I do something for you at work, don't send me an email that says "Thanks." Do you always have to get the last word in you prick? Don't make me send a "You're Welcome" email, that'll really piss you off I bet. You know what else gets pissed off? Me when the Seahawks blow a 16 point lead with 5 minutes left. Humph...it always comes back to the Seahawks. Now I'm too pissed to write any more, damn Seahawks ruined my mood.