(no subject)

There was just a story on The Daily Show about a high school kid in a small town who couldn't play football because they didn't have a helmet that fit him.  Um, that was me when I was a Senior.  I had to wait two extra weeks because they had to special-order me a helmet.  Believe me, once I got all padded up, I was out to crush people.  And I did.  I was known as one of the three big hitters on the team.  During one-on-one drills, most guys would hit the ground before I got to 'em to avoid getting hit.

(no subject)

Today's work day:  Go to the new apartment of my collegue who's moving here and... wait for the movers.  And I got paid.  And now it's 1pm and I ain't doing anything for the rest of the day.  HAH!

On the way home, I drove by Lincoln Square where there was this old man out with the pigeons.  He had one sitting on his head (a pretty red-ish one) and two in his arms and tons around him.  He was shivering (it's 15°F here and he only had a light jacket on) and he had a pigeon on his head and he looked like he was about to die but that he OWED it to these pigeons to be there for them.  I thought about parking and going to talk to him -- to find out his story -- but I was a little afraid that I'd find out that he was me, sent back from the future to warn me to kill myself now so that I didn't end up as crazy pigeon man.  I hope I don't end up as crazy pigeon man.  Tell me I won't end up as crazy pigeon man.

The last two nights I've been up until 5:30am and 2:30am respectively browsing old journal entries that I've made.  I make two observations from this:  One is that I used to be FREAKY depressed, something that I think I've done pretty well with lately; and TWO is that I am the funniest motherfucker on the face of the planet.  I'm going to have to start recycling posts.  It's not like you'd know.

( recycled very-short story )