Facebook bananas, two-dimensional biases, and bastard children

Facebook lets you post notes and share internet links. But you know what I can't post? Physical objects.

I'd like to post a banana to Facebook. Where it would normally say 'click here for the full story' when I post an item, this time it would say, 'We're sorry, you can't click it. It's a banana. Bananas aren't clickable. You just eat them, or put them in bread, or paint them if you're an artsy little shit like that.

'...why a website like Facebook has so much information on bananas, we'll never know.

'We'll let you get back to stalking that girl from your 8th grade math class. Carry on.'

Love,
Facebook Team'

(work: rain edition.)

I won't even attempt to explain this. I think I was really tired when I wrote this and I got mad that Facebook shares (websites or videos shared online) are so gosh darn... two-dimensional. This led to me suggesting that Facebook should let you post three-dimensional things like bananas and then things pretty much went downhill from there.

Still, I ended on a non-abstract note with that bit about you stalking that girl from your 8th grade math class. And here's a fun fact: If you look for a girl from high school and she's not on Facebook, then she probably never finished college. She probably dropped out or never went at all and got knocked up instead. In fact, she's probably giving birth out of wedlock right now.

Cannibals from the future with heat rays

It's so hot I'm pretty much roasting in my own juices.

That got me thinking that maybe a bunch of cannibals got ahold of a heat ray, and they're using it to slow cook the Midwest so that later they can run in and eat it. However, heat rays don't exist yet, and cannibals aren't common, so naturally this is the work of cannibals from the future.

I don't know what the future holds, aside from hungry cannibals and a ray that can make me sweat through shirts and pants. Based on that information alone, it's pretty safe to say that at least we don't have to worry about those damn robots.

(sweating in bed.)

You know, the robots that enslave mankind in the next couple centuries. What, you don't own a time machine?

Two words for easier dating

Guys, you tired of using conventional methods of attracting women? Sick of buying cologne, holding doors open, and taking showers? Well then, I've got two words for you:

Stockholm syndrome.

Kidnap a girl, then let her chill in your basement for a while. She'll be eating out of your hands in no time. In fact, she'll be doing that as soon as you kidnap her, because you'll have duct taped her arms to an office chair.

(work.)

Alternative ending: "She'll be eating out of your hands in no time, just as soon as you take the sock out of her mouth."

I don't know how some people can read some away messages that say things like, "Laundry!" or "around" and then be perfectly fine reading my away messages which are more to the tune of "Kidnap a woman and then she'll be your girlfriend!" or "Rich people like to poop!" I think that, to your brain, that's like getting out of a hot tub and then rolling around in the snow. It'd put your brain into shock so that it starts crapping all over itself.

How do you like that, loyal reader(s)? Your brains have anuses.

Chew on that while I'm over here with a non-pooping brain, lovin' life and feelin' fine.

Sunlight worms on your shoulder

When we sub out shifts for work we send emails to our coworkers to give them a heads up. Here's one I wrote tonight:
Did you know that at 7:30 every Friday morning all the birds are singing? And the squirrels will come up to you and eat food right out of your hand. Beams of golden sunlight trickle down from the heavens and lay eggs in your hair, then little sunlight worms hatch from the eggs and perch on your shoulder and sing you happy songs.

"It's Friday morning and everyone's glad /
Nobody's angry or miffed! /
Sunlight worms on your shoulder and that is rad /
So pick up Henry's sub shift!"

I have an Angell shift open this Friday from 7:30am to 9:30am. Hopefully just now you read that message and got so confused that you accidentally took that shift and gave me a foot massage.

...Please?

(bed.)

Nothing drives a point home like an ABAB rhyme scheme.

Fallen tripod ruins amateur porno

If we are to assume that the universe is infinite, that means that somewhere in a far away solar system, a man is trying to film a homemade porno with his wife when his dog knocks over the tripod and the man stops getting it on with his wife to beat the shit out of that damn dog.

He didn't even want that stupid dog, and now it's gone and broken the damn camera. Come on, honey, that thing cost a lot of money and now your stupid mutt- oh now it's my fault? I didn't want that dog in the first place, let alone in our bedroom while have sex, but you say he likes to watch, and all I wanted was to get my sex on and go to bed, but you wanted to experiment with the damn dog in the room and now I don't have a digital video camera anymore.

You stupid bitch.

(Sleeping, while voices in my head bicker about that dog.)

Stressing over finals yields gibberish

This morning I have to pick between studying for an exam worth 25% of my grade or revising a shitty story for a portfolio worth ALL of my grade. This is like picking between two kids I don't really like. The one I pick sticks around and bothers me while the other one shits on my GPA.

And that didn't even make any sense, but I've been awake for about 20 hours straight now (with only about 12 more to go before I can go back to bed) so you can't hold me accountable for anything I type in this state of mind.

One time I deep fried a family of wild gerbils and then fed them to a pack of crocodiles who are allergic to gerbils. dun dun DUN holy shit I'm going to the fishbowl to study now.

If I live through this, people, you may actually see me in real life. And I'll shave this fucking stress beard.

(death.)