4 posts tagged “silly”
Ladies, you know I love you.
Yet I gotta be honest here. No offense, but I think that a vast majority of the women in the Pacific Northwest are crazy. No, not your standard girl crazy either. Im talking straight up retarded crazy.
The final nail in the coffin was last night. I was chatting up a girl (one that I have known to some degree on and off for about half a year). Im making small talk. We get along well - I think she is attractive, she is kinda flirty with me, and well ... she laughs at almost all of my jokes. She even laughs when I make fun of her, "Oh Cinderella, you got to go home at 10 because your coach is turning back into a pumpkin?"
Out of curiosity, I bridge the conversation ...
Me: "So we havent gotten a chance to chat in a while. Tell me the scoop - got a good man in your life?"
Her: "No. Im just not finding anyone that I can really connect with..."
Me: *gives inquisitive look, detecting there is more to that story*
She goes on to explain about way older guys being into her. How thats getting all awkward. I listen intently and butt in some standard comments here and there. She turns the question back on me. I explained how I dance a lot, and how that makes dating *very* difficult and convoluted.
Her: "I have never dated a guy who likes to dance."
Me: "Hrm. Why not?"
Her: "Well, I guess it never crosses my mind to think of someone in that direction. And besides, its kinda nice to have a situation where I have my thing (dance) and he has his thing (something notdance)."
Hold the phone.
What?!
First of all, girls who dance are silly. They really do not quite grasp the fact that they are surrounded by guys who like to dance - something a helluvalotta girls would die for in a man.
Second of all, I think its really strange that you wouldnt want to share something in common like dance. If you love it, and your romantic interest loves it ... it becomes something you can do together. Thats the stuff that most girls dreams are made of right there.
Unless you are fairly one dimensional, you can still have seperate things to do that are your *own thing*. But dance is a pretty silly one to view this way. I mean, its usually meant to be performed between a guy and a girl. And when you have unabashed feelings for your partner, you open up a whole world of possibilities in dance expression. Finally, you can both work together towards the common goal of getting better (for a dancer, a lifelong pursuit).
I just dont understand the problem at all.
Now, I dont advocate actively looking for someone to date when you are going out dancing. Especially from the male side, that can often lead to mucho creepiness. But I do suggest that you keep your eyes open.
Heck, most relationship experts will tell you that the best way to meet potentially good matches is to ...
Go find an activity that you love to do.
Because it establishes a mutually common ground for conversations and activities. Which is a huge building block for just about any kind of good relationship.
Unless you are crazy. Then those blocks probably wont build anything, except maybe another Winchester House of Mystery. And if thats your thing ...
Maybe you should join the rest out here in the Northwest.
(or not)
Down with Despostitism!
End the Tyranny!
Are you tired of being kept down? Sick of the No Stick Rules imposed by your local dictator ? Well, this agression will not stand! It is the time for us to all unite as one, and ...
Sticky It To The Man!!!
Join the Sticky Liberation Front Today!!
this message was brought to you by no one.
One of my deepest small pleasures in life are Warning Labels.
I love to read all the ridiculous things they say. And some of the pictures amuse me to no end. I really wish I could just take pictures of them all. Because seriously ... they make me laugh like no other.
In my mind, I read them out loud with a very DOOMsdayish voice. Like IMPENDING DOOM! Cause there really isnt any other way to read em.
Two old ones come to mind, image-wise.
I knew someone who bought a curling iron. On the instructions, it had an image of someone poking themselves in the eye with a hot curling iron. Yes. poking. in the eye! Who knew that this was not *proper* use of a hot piece of metal? Thanks Guys!
On the green plastic bag for the original XBox. There was a picture of a baby with the bag over its head. This had the slashed-circle graphic (aka NO!) around it. Yes. No Babies with dey Heads Inna BAG!!! (Again, thanks guys.)
I was reminded of this today when I saw the warning label of a blowdryer. It says in all caps:
" 'UNPLUG IT!' DO NOT REMOVE THIS TAG! WARN CHILDREN OF THE RISK OF DEATH BY ELECTRIC SHOCK!"
In my mind, I pictured myself running around on a playground, franctically screaming to all the children, "ELECTRIC SHOCK! Warning! Its a RISK!!!! OF DEATH!"
And then I looked at the image. A hairdryer, plugged in, and floating above a tub of water. A big red slash through both. Apparently, levitating hairdryers and bathtubs should be nowhere near each other. Especially if said levitating hairdryer has squiqqly lines around it.
Yes. I am amused.
Sunday.
For whatever reason, I am craving McDonalds. So I pull up to the drive-thru, wait to hear from the lady, and put in my order. There is a pregnant pause.
"Umm. Ya. Sir, we arent serving lunch yet, so I cannot take your order." The tinny voice says.
Im curious. "Oh, Okay. So what time do you start serving lunch then?"
"Eleven." She says.
Yewp: Internal Monologue.
I know I have serious clock issues. There isnt a pair of clocks in my posession *anywhere* that say the same time. Some are off by minutes. Some by hours. So Im not really sure that my dashboard 11:03 is correct.
Oh oh! I bet my cell is probably correct.
Flurrrp: Back to Reality.
"Uhhhhhhhhh... Isnt it Eleven Now?" I ask, seeing that it is 10:58 on my cell clock.
"Hold on a second sir. Let me ask the Manager if I can ring up your order." She replies. And I wait. And wait. I see a man starting to flip the drive-thru menus to something more lunchy.
"I'm sorry sir. I cannot take your order yet. We dont start lunch until Eleven." She squeaks. "But if you drive around back into line, we should be ready to take your order then."
Errrrrt!: Internal Monologue.
Lady - are you fucking kidding me? For Real - this is your solution? Its 10:59, officially. And you dont take lunch orders until 11:00. So you want me to drive through the drive-thru, around the building, and get in line AGAIN?
I have heard of Red Tape - hell work at a Kingpin of Red Tape. But ...
What. The. Fuck.
Over.
This is like the grandaddy of all Red Tapes. Its like Bureaucracy's Holy Grail. The Loch-Ness Monster. Sasquatch. Elvis Kidnapped by Aliens. Tu-Pac.
Unbelieveable.
Shabloomph: Back To Reality.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." I couldnt really get a dignified word out of my mouth - my eyebrows were furrowed to tightly, and it was throwing off my whole conversational game. I was about to use the penultimate trump phrase : 'I have no response to that.'
But she interjected, "Oh Wait! The manager says I can take your order now." She seemed a bit relieved. "Welcome to McDonalds, what would you like to order?"
Yes. Universe.
You are silly.
