A Pixelated Mind

• Marriage proposals
• Imminent plans
• Government secrets
• Illegal pornography
• Unforgivable pornography
• The ‘Money shot’
• Smells
• Directions
• Punches
• Poverty
• Sextually Transmitted Infections
• The Sunday New York Times
• Plasma
• Ransom negotiations

This will offer no clues to anyone looking to guess what letter I’m on.  You might think it will, and it might if you already had a good guess.  But trust me: this post will be more misdirection than regular direction.

• I think you could be a little bit nicer to yourself and others.
• You owe me… big.
• You are, as best I can tell, a real person.  Probably.
• Sorry I never said anything when you confessed your love to me.  I just didn’t feel the same way and I thought that if I tried to keep talking to you, you would get the wrong idea.

Navigation:  pt. i, pt. ii, pt. iii, pt. iv, pt. v, pt. vi, pt. vii, pt. viii, pt. ix, pt. x, pt. xi, pt. xii, pt. xiii, pt. xiv, pt. xv, pt. xvi, pt. xvii, pt. xviii, pt. xix, pt. xx, pt. xxi, pt. xxii, pt. xxiii, pt. xxiv, pt. xxv, pt. xxvi

Only one today.  Hopefully this doesn’t help anyone figure out the pattern.

• You’re cute, interesting, and fun.  I’d say we should hang out more, but that’s probably not true.

This series:  pt. i, pt. ii, pt. iii, pt. iv, pt. v, pt. vi, pt. vii, pt. viii, pt. ix, pt. x, pt. xi, pt. xii, pt. xiii, pt. xiv, pt. xv, pt. xvi, pt. xvii, pt. xviii, pt. xix, pt. xx, pt. xxi, pt. xxii, pt. xxiii, pt. xxiv, pt. xxv, pt. xxvi

Even more!

• I’m so damn sorry.  I wish I had known myself better so that this wouldn’t have happened.
• The drugs really did a number on you, didn’t they?
• I’m so very sorry I missed your wedding.  You got me where I am now, though, and I don’t want that to go in vain.
• You have no idea how much I wish I could be angry at you.  It’s like when a puppy pees on your divorce papers: you’re angry, but they’re just too stupid to realize that they caused anything.
• I don’t think anything you value is important in any way.  You probably feel the same way about me.  This makes me sad.
• Please lose weight, for your own health and comfort, if nothing else.
• Even though I was your ‘best’ friend, I actually never considered you a friend of mine.  I’m sorry that you didn’t or couldn’t make closer relationships.
• I was really sad when things didn’t work out between us, but now that you’ve fundamentally changed your personality and values, I feel like I dodged a bullet.
• I haven’t known you long enough to want to say something about you, but not to you.
• One day, many years from now, when I see you on “To Catch a Predator,” I hope to be able to look back and deny ever knowing you.
• You are possibly my most favorite person of all time.  It saddens me that I don’t see you or talk to you more.
• Sorry about what happened between me and your girlfriend.  If it makes you feel any better, I always liked you better than her.  Plus: she went crazy.  You just went out of control.
• I was really pretty incompetent when you hired me for that job.  And in retrospect, I don’t think you were doing me any favors.
• Hey: Marxism isn’t the answer.  It doesn’t even matter what the question is.  Just let it go.

…

This series:  pt. i, pt. ii, pt. iii, pt. iv, pt. v, pt. vi, pt. vii, pt. viii, pt. ix, pt. x, pt. xi, pt. xii, pt. xiii, pt. xiv, pt. xv, pt. xvi, pt. xvii, pt. xviii, pt. xix, pt. xx, pt. xxi, pt. xxii, pt. xxiii, pt. xxiv, pt. xxv, pt. xxvi

So I set my face on fire today.  Then Homer Simpson taught me a valuable lesson.  Let me back up.

It was my shave day and I had to go meet some friends at a local burrito establishment.  Naturally, I put off shaving until the last minute.

Unfortunately, as always happens, I managed to cut myself.  Then I had the brilliant idea to spray my face with a flammable substance and set it ablaze.  This is what went through my head:

• Shave, shave, shave.  Cut.
• “Aw crap.  Why does this always happen when I’m about to go out?”
• … I don’t have any band-aids in my house because I spent all my money on duct tape back when I was making shoes.
• Damn.  That might have been stupid.
• Fail.
• I don’t have any alcohol, either.
• “Man, I’m thirsty.”
• No, I mean rubbing alcohol.
• “Hm..  My friend Daniel left some hairspray here when he came to visit.”
• Spray.
• “Ow!”
• Why did I just spray my face with hair spray?
• “Ow!”
• Why did I just do it again?
• Hmm…  Now I seem to be bleeding more.
• “I know!”  I could get some ice and hold it to my face enough to constrict the blood vessels so that the cut will coagulate faster.
• Get ice.
• “Oh, shit.  It’s late.  I should go.”
• Drive, drive, drive, holding ice to face.
• This did not work.  The ice is just melting and making the blood run more.  I look significantly worse than before.
• You know what I need?  Fire.  That way I can just cauterize the —ridiculously narrow— would.
• Drive back.
• Find lighter(s).
• Turn one on.
• Put it up to my wound.
• Whoosh!
• “AAH!!”
• Where did my eyelash go?
• … Oh, yeah.  Hairspray is flammable.  Well, that was stupid.
• Man, why did no one ever teach me what to do in these situations?  I feel like a teenage girl who went to a pool party despite the fact she had just gotten her period.
• “…  Hm.  Who teaches teenage girls how to deal with that?”
• Who cares!  Think, think, think.
• I feel like Bart when Homer is teaching him how to shave…
• … holy shit.  That’s it!
• Tear off little strips of toilet paper.
• Hm.  This actually works.  Only now I can’t feel half my face and I look like a tubercolic leper.
• In other words, it’s a marginal improvement from how I look most days.

… I’ve come to realize I am too incompetent to live in this world.