Screw this. I’m going back to Windows 95.
The Amazon delivery drivers in my area are shit but my neighbors sure do order some really cool stuff.
Please do not shout “2020” in a crowded theater.
Preemptively looking in the fridge to see if my wife might need anything from the store in order to decide if I’m going to let her know that I’m going to the store or just sneak out.
I once took a woman back to a hotel who was in town from Canada back when I was sweet. I kept taking her clothes off but she was wearing so many layers. After a good half hour of peeling, I finally reached the center only to find… nothing. Only the slightest scent of maple.
Traffic is fucked this morning. There’s a stalled cat on the southbound side of the hallway and a nine lego pile up just outside the bathroom door.
I cannot stop thinking about how the director of Con Air’s previous directing credit was 10 years earlier and it was the music video for Rick Astley’s Never Gonna Give You Up.
My wife calls it “silent treatment”. I call it “attractive disagreement period”.
[Lying on a bed of expensive Vitctoria’s Secret panties]
Me: This is absolutely magnificent.
[Alarm clock sounds. Wakes up on a bed of dollar store panties]
Me: This is pretty alright I guess.
Phone rang. Caller ID said FUTURE US. I determined that it was me calling from the future to give myself important information. I answered and it was indeed me, but I was only trying to sell myself aluminum siding.