Fancy A Crisp? Part II

As I write this, I think about things that suck; like working in retail, my cable company, 4-day-old movie popcorn, and “clopening”. That’s when you have to close at work one night and then open the next morning. You feel like fashioning a cot out of raw materials and just sleeping in the backroom instead of driving home.  It is random, unrelated thoughts such as these that allow me to talk to you all on a weekly basis. I sometimes feel like my mind needs an “oh, shit! handle”, something to grab onto in a hurry when it suddenly runs amok. Most cars come equipped with said handles, usually located above the windows.  Most cars also have clothing hooks, except for my car. Three hundred bucks a month and no clothing hooks? Where am I supposed to hang my pimp suits? Everyone knows that a wrinkle in a pimp suit equals a wrinkle in life. Holy digression, Batman! Nevermind, this blog is a series of digressions. Ready for another one? There’s a new phrase in town that I am quite fond of, regarding increasingly frequent situations where people seem to like giving inanimate objects the ability to “shit the bed”. Like, “my phone shit the bed”. I’ve never heard of anyone doing that to a bed, much less a piece of electronics. If it wasn’t so damn funny to hear people say, I would protest this phrase. Ah, protest. The most useless and annoying liberty bestowed upon us by our forefathers. Who thought it would be a good idea to allow people to march around with signs and yell, like a bunch of assholes, just because they don’t like something? Exactly, I don’t know either. I also don’t know why my dog would rather place with an ice cube that fell on the floor than her own toys. I also don’t know why you’re still reading this, if you are. This may be the most incoherent thing I’ve ever written, but therein lies the charm. Welcome to my brain, because it’s Tuesday.