Random observations and comments from the Fairfax County, Virginia, Curmudgeon-at-Large.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Random Observations
Courtesy of my old friend Ken, here are a few random ... if odd ... observations:
The location of your mailbox shows you how far away from your house you can be in a robe before you start looking like a mental patient.
My therapist says my narcissism causes me to misread social situations. I'm pretty sure she was hitting on me.
My 60 year kindergarten reunion is coming up soon; now I'm worried about the 210 pounds I've gained.
I'm getting really tired of always having to slowly raise my hand when someone says, "Who does something like that?”
I wonder what the job application is like at Hooters . . . do they just give you a bra and say, "Here, fill this out"?
The speed in which a woman says "Nothing" when asked "What's wrong?" is inversely proportional to the severity of the shit storm that's coming.
If I make you breakfast in bed, a simple "Thank you" is all I need. Enough already with the "How did you get in my house?" business.
On average, an American man will have sex two to three times a week, whereas a Japanese man will have sex only one or two times a year. This pisses me off. I had no idea I was Japanese.
I can't understand why women are okay with the fact that JC Penny has line of clothing for mature women called "Sag Harbor."
I think it's pretty cool how the Chinese made a language entirely out of tattoos.
When I die I want to be reincarnated as a spider, just so I can finally hear a women scream "Oh God, it's huge!"
As you can see, I have ... interesting ... friends. Thanks, Ken, for the observations. Do you have any others? Leave a comment.
Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.
Bilbo
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4 comments:
Great observations by Ken.
Interruptions are most likely to occur during the climax, whether television programs or others.
Why does the need to break wind always occur during a seminar?
You're supposed to wear a robe to the mailbox?
He must live in a formal place to have to wear a robe to check mail. Admittedly, one of my less couth neighbors went our to get the paper in his jockey shorts.
I volunteer for screening the bra test results at Hooters.
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