Blight

The quality of this entry would have been greatly enhanced if I'd been able to take a ten minute nap prior to putting it together. But since we don't give a crap about quality anywhere on this site, it flies up unedited.

Yesterday, I'd enthralled myself with the idea of sitting at home, doing nothing but watching tv and going to bed early. It may sound dull to you, but in my head it had become an affair of mythic proportions the likes of which has not been seen since Andy's well planned masturbatory fete in The 40 Year Old Virgin.

Alas, it was not to be. J, still trying to straighten his shit out with his psycho ex girlfriend, recruits me on a drop off mission. This would involve loading up eight large boxes of cursed articles, every item tainted by a generous helping of wacko, and follow along for support up to nutjob N's place where we would unload said boxes and retrace our drive back home along the stretch of salted earth that had been contaminated by our travel. It went off, surprisingly, without confrontation, although the line of the night went to el trampo when she indicated to J that she should be there when he unblights his car.

"My brother is really mad. He might shoot you."

Ha! Um. What? Really? There's truth to that statement?

I see.

Which brings us to the (very) abridged version of Things-That-Crazy-Exs-Have-Done-To-Me-And-People-I-Know:

Claimed an aborted pregnancy
Staged a suicide attempt with 'pills and puking'
Rolled a car into a wall, then called to let everyone know so that the message would get passed along appropriately
Attempt to break up existing relationship, years later, with farcical emails
Had parents buy two condos to impress ex, then stalked aforementioned ex to let him/her know

This is just the shit that they do after. We're not counting the shit they do while you're with them to try to get you to stay.

Half the people in this world are CRAZY.

Random sequence of words

Gardening	Fitness buffs	Murder	Romance in a playroom
Nobody's rich	Speeding tickets	Closed highways	Conversations in elevators
Cataracts	Cancer	Hypochondriacs	Immigrants
Magic	Art shows	Computer code	Religious comics
Breakups	Crazy ex's	Career changes	CircusesCoffee with no sugar
Nose blowers	Credit stealers	Loving somebody so much that you never doubt	Loving somebody so little that you never doubt
NBA basketball	Big houses	Real estate	Asian movies
Political elections	Long haired dudes	Karaoke	Artists
Art show!	Chefs	IT people	Pharmacists
Unemployed	Gallery owners	Halloween	Dirty, dirty Derek
Coding, type conversion like religion		Making fun of white people	Pirated music
online sharing

Exodus: no bible here

Tips that don't fit in the jar:

It's a shitty thing. You get into work at an hour when guys are just trying to tame their morning boner so that means you leave after you've put in your eight hours, right? But 4pm is such an improbable hour that you always feel like you're on the receiving end of suspicious sideways glances and internal explosions of indignant disbelief. So what do you do?

You start to leave your satchel at home.
You leave your winter coat hanging in the closet by the door.

So when you're ready to leave, it'll be just like you're going to the bathroom to take a piss. Nobody looks at you funny because nobody knows better.

It works.

At least something does.