Musing About Nothing

Hi There, From Your Most Pessimistic Friend

Austinjt34@gmail.com (JT) — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 01:12:00 +0000

I wanted to write you to tell you that I know things seem great, but they’re really not. In the world today, someone choked on a hambone, a hambone. And things may be going good for you right now, but your hambone is out there, waiting to jump in your throat and restrict your breathing.

I know the numbers look good, but often numbers distort truth. They get up on their page, run around and then start stabbing each other with the ones. The ones are used as little spears. And mean time you think your traveling in the fast lane, but there’s a little known secret that I know: the fast lane is the one headed straight for Poop Mountain. And that’s not a place where fun things happen.

Hello There

Austinjt34@gmail.com (JT) — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 20:25:00 +0000

I’m the guy standing way too close to you in the check out line. I like the way your neck looks.

I know that most people desire at least a good one foot buffer zone between them and strangers, but I don’t believe in buffer zones. Because if I did, how else would I know that you smell like fresh Irish soap? That’s not something you can ascertain by having your ‘personal space.”

Don’t mind my heavy breathing; I’m quite out of shape. I just like to sit at home all day and build historical recreations using my toe nail clippings. Not a lot of time to exercise, as you probably guessed.

If I let out random words from time to time, don’t mind me. Sometimes my mouth doesn’t keep up with my brain, or vice versa; I’m really not sure. Flip. Say, there’s a mole on your neck here, and I’m not sure but I think it’s in the shape of Lincoln’s stove top hat. That’s pretty neat, right? Barf.

Oh, I see you don’t appreciate me breaking your personal buffer zone. I could tell by the way you backed up and purposely stepped on my toe. Carrot. But if you think that’s going to stop me, no sir. I’m going to reach across you as if you weren’t there and grab a candy bar, because I enjoy making people uncomfortable, and I like candy bars. Lancing.

You’ve made your purchase now, and you’re looking at me with those eyes. But before you call the law, I just want you to know, that I enjoyed taking in your space. It was quite a pleasure. Construction.

The Freezer Theorem

Austinjt34@gmail.com (JT) — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 15:03:00 +0000

I have found that there's a mathematical formula behind my life. The matrix, or code, if you will. I enjoy a good frosty soda every now and then. And since they've not invented the opposite of microwaves yet, I often throw a can in the freezer for a quick chill.

For every can I throw in there, one out of every three I will forget about, creating an explosion of impossible to clean soda goo throughout the area of the freezer.

It's a game of soda goo roulette, yet I continue to play.

Souvenirs

Austinjt34@gmail.com (JT) — Thu, 25 Sep 2008 16:18:00 +0000

If I was a bald cowboy in the old west, I’d wear fake bushy hair made of cactus bristles. That way, when an Indian scalped me, the joke would be on him. And I would be laughing while later; he would scalp me for real.

Independence Scars

Austinjt34@gmail.com (JT) — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 15:51:00 +0000

For years, as a child, I often wondered why my family celebrated our country's independence by allowing my cousin to shoot roman candles at my pants.

But soon enough I realized that my cousin just really enjoyed shooting people with roman candles. And shooting their pants.

Musing About Nothing: Cosby Attire

Austinjt34@gmail.com (JT) — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 00:09:00 +0000

Sometimes learning disappoints me.

Like the time when I found out that 'pudding pants' is just a derogatory term and not actually pants made of pudding.