A Potato Misunderstanding

When I go to post office, it seems like I’m always stuck behind someone who has never been to the post office before. They don’t know how to mail locally, domestically, or internationally. They don’t know where the tape is to seal their packages. They don’t know how to fill out any of the mailing labels or customs forms. These people are about as useless and outdated as…the post office.

Taken me a few years to figure this one out, but one of the people in my building smells like a racehorse zebra copulating with a gorilla that’s been doing jumping jacks for 5 hours straight while consuming a deadly mix of corn chips, vinegar, ass mildew, and 3-week-old egg salad.

Is it me, or do a lot of cat people have hair down to their ankles?

A few weeks ago, someone in California won the $1.6 billion Powerball drawing. There were 6 winners in Cali, Florida, and Tennessee, all receiving $528.8 million before taxes if they take the 29-year annuity, or a lump-sum payment of $327.8 million before taxes. The night of the announcement there was a ton of people cheering and going nuts at the Chino Hills 7-Eleven where the winning lottery ticket was sold. Why are all those people gathered around that 7-Eleven? They didn’t win. That’s like everyone going to Jerusalem and cheering and partying around the manger. That don’t mean you’re going to heaven, fool!

Can you have a headache when you are a headache?

I love how people bring their kids to work like we’ve never seen kids before. It’s almost like they’re saying, “Here, people, this is an example of a perfect, beautiful, obedient child. Take notes.” Sometimes there’s a smugness that accompanies these particular attention-seeking types. I don’t mind parents bringing their kids to work every now and then. Sometimes a parent has to. Baby sitters and the grandparents aren’t always available. However, if you’re going to bring your kid just to show off that measly runt in front of everyone because you’re insecure and you need a trophy to flash around to prove to us all that your sex organs and piping still works, then leave that kid at work so a real, more humble, more appropriate person can raise that kid up to be a decent human being, hopefully diverting the predestined route of his or her unfortunate gene pool.

Heard this joke from Deon Cole recently. Comedic gold:
“When I moved out to LA they told me I had to work out. I was, like, I don’t wanna do that. They gave me this trainer, and the dude was, like…The most important thing is, you can’t eat late at night or you’ll get fat. And I’m, like, forget that, you supposed to eat late at night. He was, like, No, you not. I’m, like, Well, why they put a light in the refrigerator?”

Girls don’t drink coffee with one hand. They tend to hold cups of coffee with both hands, which is weird because the cup ain’t that heavy and it’s 88 degrees outside.

Irony. Chapter 11 Books filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 2005.

My friend’s grandfather was famous for saying, “It’s not the cough that carries you off, it’s the coffin they carry you off in.” Ironically, he died of a coughing fit/natural causes.

One day, I plan to meet a Filipina Girl Scout and order some Tagalongs in Tagalog.

Half-ass is always a funny term, as opposed to whole-ass. How about quarter-ass? Eighth-ass? Sixteenth-ass?

There’s an insurance agent in LA called Fred Loya. With that last name, you’d think he was born to be a lawyer.

Aspirin: It’ll heal your pain and kill your brain.

A midget giraffe is still 10-feet tall.

I need stronger pillows. My head flattens them all. There’s not a pillow in existence that can withstand the crushing, slow beat-down my head deploys on these soft, cottony clouds of sleep. I wear them all down. Down feathers, memory foam, whatever. This head of mine is a brown bowling ball, and pillows don’t stand a chance.

If you’re racist toward everyone, then you’re treating everyone fairly. Therefore, being racist toward everyone is not being racist.

My friend told me that he and his girlfriend went to a Latin dance club over the weekend. He remarked on how everyone was dancing Bachata. I’m familiar with Bachata from a trip I took to the Dominican Republic, so I asked him was it popular in Honduras, where he’s from. He gave me a puzzled look. I gave him one back. Later on, I found out that he didn’t hear me say Bachata. He heard “patata.” So we had spent about 5 to 10 minutes trying to explain and understand — in his broken English and my broken Spanish — that I was interested in the popularity of a dance in his home country, and not the popularity of Honduran potatoes.

Just where do you expect a walking, truck-driving skateboard to go?

The word cuisine rhymes with the word green and mean. Everyone knows this. Despite this, I think cuisine, on occasion, should adopt the long-i sound in place of the short-i sound. This should occur in special sentences, such as “I shall dine on this fine wine and sublime cuisine.”