I am now a god at the Rubik’s Cube. It means nothing to those of you who don’t twist, but I figured out the last bit I needed to solve it each and every time.
I think I may have asked out a lesbian at Taco Bell yesterday. Furthermore, I suspect she was a pathologically lying lesbian. I have a history with only being attracted to lesbians (and one particular time to a lesbian with Munchausen’s Syndrome), so it’s entirely likely.. Oh, well, at least it’ll be another story to tell the grandkids.
And if you think that my soft spot for lesbians will get in the way of my having grandkids, remind me sometime to tell you about my lesbian friends that kept trying to steal my sperm.
Also, I got my tickets for my trip to Australia yesterday.
I’ve made a list of awesome superpowers you never hear about anymore. If I had my choice, I suspect I’d choose the finding objects one just because of how useful it would be.
- The ability to find anything
- The ability to sterilize people from great distances with little to no pain
- The ability to speak any language
- Underwater breathing
Frank: I get off work at 2:00.
Pixel: Right, so we’ll meet at 2:00 then.
Frank: I get off at 2:00, I don’t actually leave until 2:30.
Pixel: Okay, 2:30 then.
Frank: But it takes me some time to get here, so 3:00.
Pixel: 3:00 it is then.
Frank: Right, 3:00, 3:30, whatever.
Pixel: How about 4:00 then?
Frank: 4:00 is awesome. I’ll be ready and I’ll see you at about 4:30/5 o’clock.
Pixel: Do you work tomorrow?
Frank: What’s tomorrow, Friday?
Pixel: Well, then we’ll just get together tomorrow.
Frank: Right, Friday/Saturday, you’ve got it.
I feel like a story I once wrote about a guy who was trying to sculpt the perfect woman (I called it Styxmalion). The story is very detailed about this really boring person doing a really boring hobby. At random intervals throughout the story, however, the main character’s friend calls him up and tells him about all of the crazy things that are happening outside. From the conversation we hear, it’s quite obvious that the true plot is going on outside of the focus of the narrative, but I, being the jerk of an author I am, give nothing but glimpses of it.
In the end, you feel frustrated at the story and the character for not doing anything, but at the same time are quite amused by it all.
At least I am.