As you may or may not know, I am a scientist as well as an anthropologist and have recently discovered a document that contains some lesser known acronyms that were recently unearthed under that creepy 7-11 on Lincoln across from Staples. I thought they might be of some use to humanity so I am sharing them here:
Should I Get Bangs?
Have a Really Painful Ingrown Toenail, Can’t Meet For Drinks.
Laughing So Hard I Urinated On Myself.
I Can See Your Eye Teeth When You Smile Really Wide.
Weeeeeee! Making Cinnamon Toast.
That’s So Cool That You Wear Your UGG Boots Even Though It’s One Hundred Degrees In the Shade.
Did You Get a Facelift?
Your Cousin Seems Like an Alcoholic.
Don’t Go All Klaus Barbie On Me Now.
That Is So Funny It Makes Me Go Oh My God That Is So Funny.
I Don’t Care If You’re a Vegan, That Shade of Yellow Still Washes You Out.
Please Pass the Aged Himalayan Sea Salt.
Good Luck With That, Then,
896. Coors Light
897. Selfie sticks
898. How Comic Sans still exists in the Font Universe
Exhausted from street punks murdering not only his wife and daughter but his housekeeper too, the ultimate tough guy uses his steely stare to render his relentless enemies paralyzed long enough for him to hide his cat.
Talk louder. I can’t hear you over that puka shell necklace you’re wearing.
That faint, far off feeling of Spring coming on has always held me in its clutches. Not because I live in a cold war zone winter climate and I’m longing for warmth or sunshine or unencumbered existence, no. I long for Spring because I long for renewal—heartfelt start-overs, forever fresh do it differently’s, newness, different landscapes to observe and an alternate way to be.
It’s not that I dislike my day-to-day way of being. I forge forward and I observe what I do in the Winter, when things are more covert than above ground, and I bide my time until the time when I can bloom. Spring is the thing that makes it so. Spring is the thing that gets my engine revving—eager for the next adventure, the next place, the next project to explore.
In the Winter I hibernate and think. In the Spring I pop up, take aim and shoot, like an arrow that possesses some kind of magical thinking, knowing that now is the time to wake up and make a beautiful mess of things.