The Fun in Fundamentals

I was in sixth or seventh grade when my English teacher told us we had to read Lord of the Flies. Big mistake.

Here’s what twelve-year-old me thought about that book: It sucked. There were a bunch of boys. Most of them didn’t have names because they weren’t important. One boy was good. One boy was bad. One boy was really fat and out of shape. And there was a conch. I had no idea what a conch was and I wasn’t about to look it up. I yawned when I found out the fat boy died.

Gay Chickens Are Gay

There's a Chick-fil-A down the street from my townhome. I haven't eaten their food in over a year.

I Hate New Year's

Most people really like New Year's, and I get that. I really do. I'm just not one of those people.

New Year's is another excuse to party. Wonderful. I do it too. Partying is a great way to seem somewhat normal, so I shower, I get dressed, and I remember to put on deoderant. I drive to where the people are and I get my party on. Sometimes I even smile.

Jobs

There must have been at least a dozen of us standing in the playground. We'd just barely learned how to dress ourselves in the morning, but there we were, pumping our arms, hooting and hollering, and hoping the driver would see.

And he did. He blasted his horn just as his ginormous semi-truck rolled by. Again and again he pulled down on that handle, letting us know he'd seen us and we'd connected. He honked and we hollered and echoed his roar as he disappeared down the street.

Back

So I was standing in my boss’s office, watching over her shoulder as she switched between an email request and the webpage she wanted me to edit. That’s when I turned around and noticed the window behind us. It used to give a clear view between her smaller room and the back area of our entire office, the place where we hold our meetings and eat lunch. However, for privacy’s sake, she’d had something put across its other side (and who can blame her), so now it acts more like a mirror.

And Then I Had Fruit!

So my ex-girlfriend has been on a fitness kick, and that's worked out quite nicely for moi¹. The other day, she wanted company at the gym, which is crazy because she never went when I asked her to accompany me (but whatever). Still, I ain't petty, so I got my bottled water, my cellular telephone, and my speedos. And then I actually got on the treadmill. Seriously. I ran jogged jog/walked a healthy distance. I might even do it again soon.

Alternative Goth Bohemia

There is a kind of girl, a wonderous girl, who is a shining example of what all other girls should be. She is harder, better, faster, stronger. Well, probably not stronger or faster. And calling her harder doesn't really make any sense. But she's better, which is really the point.