Thursday, December 08, 2011

He is just a little plaything...don't you wanna make him stay up late?

I think this is the year when my head will just explode with all the information, headaches, and congestion built up inside of it. I just realized it today. Because things that should be more obvious to me aren't coming to the forefront of my brain until 20 minutes later, or so.

Like this telemarketer that called the house last week. It was Friday night. I was about to head to the basement to drink myself a wee bit silly with beers while watching movies with Leo. Then this dude calls from some "resort" number somewhere. He tells me that it is my lucky day, and he's about to blow my mind.

First of all, way to take the classy route to the whole telemarketing thing, man. Nice.

Second of all, it is Friday motherfucking night at about 6:30 p.m. I don't care what you have to offer me, there ain't no way it's gonna blow my mind more than a Boulevard Wheat, a steak fajita, and watching the movie "Paul" is going to. I'm sure of it. I told him almost as much, and then asked him to remove us from their list.

And then I went to the bathroom, and came up with all kinds of better respones I could've given him!

"Oh, sorry! My husband already did that for me, so I'm good for now."

"I had my mind blown on Wednesday. Right now, you're actually just talking to a leftover, bloody spinal chord stump. Don't ask me how, though. I've been trying to figure it out since Wednesday, but it's really hard to do with a blown mind."

"Wait a this Hitler?"

I don't know why all these things come to me AFTER the fact. And then I start thinking about how after saying something like that to the telemarketer dude, he may be sad he didn't sell me something, but at least he might have something to laugh about for the next hour or so.

And then I start to think about how I find myself so endlessly entertaining, and it really might be a sickness. I'm definitely sure that not everyone else I come into contact with would agree with my assessment of myself.

See? My brain is just so full of the random.

I need the holidays, dammit. It's time to slow this fucker dooowwwn.

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