Kaleidoscopic Realms Under Scrutiny

Excerpted without permission from my as yet unwritten autobiography “The Ruminator’s Manual”, a dissertation locked away in the mental vaults.

In a strange twist of introspection, people are into full disclosure these days — or at least the auspices of it. They want to come clean and be all sparkly. It lends more credibility to their cause, particularly in an environment of discovery, sufficiently interlaced with wild paranoiac suspicion. We feel that if we can seem like we’re being true to ourselves by not leaving anything out, we’ll get closer to finding the jackpot of truth where there will be fabulous prizes.

As part of my tell-all, I must divulge that in college I used to plagiarize from entire articles for term papers. But then I would cleverly disguise them by changing all of the words. Passages from scientific journals such as: “The schemata of pure concepts of understanding are a priori time determinations and as such they are a transcendental product of the pure power of imagination” became instead: “rampant use of Paleolithic syllogism belies its direct antithesis in hegemonic serendipity for the sake of haphazard trendsetting algorithms.” Initially, no one suspected a thing. But over time, my professors started catching on to what I was doing. So then I had to start writing them in foreign languages to keep them on their toes. Unfortunately, it brought even more attention to my papers when I began handing them in in obscure dialects of Farsi, but I continually adapted and came out mostly unscathed, give or take a few emotional bruises.

Mischief begets further mischief, and so I would compensate for this wanton literary behavior of mine by sometimes plagiarizing myself. I would frequently quote things I’d said without citing the reference. I might say: “Someone famous once remarked…” and then I’d use one of my own quotes without owning up to it. I figure I should be able to sue some famous people over this if I never earn a living through normal writing. But also it’s a potential way of applying carbon imprints. The options are still open.

Now a confession about this blog. Though you might not be able to tell, I’ve been plagiarizing from Noah Webster all this time. They’re all his words, not mine. At first I thought it was a cute little joke, but then I got power hungry and it became an obsession. I’d pilfer an “elucidate” here or a “gallimaufry” there, and before you knew it, I was hoarding thousands of verbs and adjectives that didn’t rightly belong to me. I fooled myself into thinking that seldom-used terms such as “fungible”, “paucity” and “rapscallion” were my personal possessions. I became a veritable narcissistic Noah-do-well.

And* so*, to* arrive* full* circle*, I* must* give* credit* where* credit* is* due*. (*-borrowed from Webster’s 9th, 10th and 11th Collegiate Dictionaries. I promise to give them back later.) The esteemed lexicographers are the ones who deserve the accolades. This is not my beautiful house… This is not my beautiful blog… In fact, my pseudo-ghost writer has been channeling Noah Webster’s great-great-grandson for all his ideas. Same as it ever was, same as it ever was, same as it ever was… 

And this is not to say that I might not still be hoarding a few pet terms as we speak. I am willing to fess up, but I didn’t say I was rehabilitated yet. It’s hard to stop once you start, and I expect I’ll have copyright infringement cases brought against me for these discretions.

Sometimes you find you have to say more than what is asked in order to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, because surely you wouldn’t want to tell part of the falsehood and something of the falsehood. When asked for my favorite color, such as in job interviews, biographical sketches or counter-intelligence interrogations, part of me feels like asking if I have to pick only one. Maybe they’re trying to trick me into saying lavender, like my more plaintive side would be wont to do. Thus, I like to answer a question with a more valid question. What if I happen to like all the colors in equitable fashion? For all they know, I might be an equal opportunity hue aficionado. Mauve needs some love, for one. And I’m continually nostalgic for Burnt Sienna, from my early crayon days. Or Chartreuse. Also notice that I respect these colors enough to capitalize them. And then I’m kind of partial to Wisteria. Yet (and this is key) not so much that I shun the other just-as-worthy selections in the process.

It’s so hard to narrow them down, with all these good choices. When you ask me about the color scale, it’s not something I take lightly. So if you want to know which color I consider to be preeminent among all the rest, I’m going to take it personally and it’s going to require some serious introspection. Consequently, you need to be prepared for a rather involved response. (actually, I guess this is probably true of most any subject that one might ask of me, but let’s just start with colors for now)

A world without color would be rather bland. We wouldn’t know it was bland, but it would still be bland nonetheless. It would be a case of the bland leading the bland. In short, the quality of bland would not be escapable.

It’s curious to consider that Web pages support such an ambitious dose of 16 million colors. Sounds cool to say that. Because that would be a lot, and stuff. However, upon further review, it’s rather nonsensical, in that our eyes can’t really differentiate anywhere near that many colors anyway. We would be just as well off with a few thousand, but then it wouldn’t sound as impressive. Sometimes less is more. Or usually. High definition to creatures with relatively poor vision is much worse than hindsight. I read that on a matchbook once. In a dream. While unconscious. So don’t quote me on that.

When I used to color, going way back to my school days at Willits High, we got by nicely with a box of just 64 color crayons, thank you very much. If a person didn’t want yellow but didn’t want green either… voila! there was yellow-green to come in and save the day. If we were really in a bind, we’d make up colors, such as “skin color”, the informal color pushed by adolescents across the world. These were the epitome of shade convenience, within the glorious rainbowic confines of a waxed writing instrument. 

As we vacillate between life’s assorted tints, many billions of people have been desperately in a search for the truth, or something to tell them they don’t need to look. We’re in a perpetual existential hunt for that perfect color array, which causes me to think that if anyone had found it and were able to systematically convey his or her precise methodology and results, everybody else would have a firm grasp on it too. That not being the case, no one has honed in on a truth which they can adequately convey in a definitive way that is believable in a fully public sense, because people aren’t like that. There is no science to art, and we are a painting. Which then means that at least up till now, the only feasible method of apprehending the truth is through introspection, very personally, each person making the ultimate discovery on his or her own. Souls can be guided to the precipice, but if they are pushed off without intending to jump, they discover nothing. They have to make the leap on their own accord. So for those who have consciously made the leap, we’re on our way down into the mysterious canyon enjoying the scenery and the ride together. Hang on! Anyway, much better than endlessly deliberating up at the top.

Life is a strange tapestry of highs and lows, ins and outs. And when you think you’ve got things figured out, another layer unravels. There’s no end to the nuances, the flavors, the angles, the struggles, the surprises, the monotony, the bright spots, the revelations, the moments when you connect with something or someone, and the places your imagination will let you soar. A plethora, even.

As with any other inquiry in the didactic realm, this can lead into another discussion of free will vs. determinism, with the oddsmakers placing determinism as a 6-point underdog. The game is on determinism’s home field this year, and the home crowd is pretty raucous, but that still doesn’t help all that much, as their team is without many skill players, not to mention the coach is always forcing the players to do things against their own volition.

Free will means having real options, at least some of the time, or in some situations. Not necessarily always. Determinism means having no options, ever. For this reason, determinists shouldn’t be allowed to vote. On anything. After all, they think that the decision is already made for them, so what’s the difference to them if that’s what they truly believe? To be a determinist is to self-contradict oneself all of your life. They believe in determinism enough to pay it allegiance, yet not enough to give it back the reins.

Then why are there questions? No really, why are there any questions? Why do we ask things? What is the nature of questions? Are there other things we could ask besides questions? If I keep asking more and more questions, does it give you the impression that I might know the answers to them? I didn’t think so.

I like how much of news these days is posed in the form of a question to draw attention to it, to tease, and to generate discussion. Questions apparently are more exciting than mere statements on the same topics. Compare: “Is there life on other planets?” with the less dramatic “It’s unknown if there’s life on other planets.” With the question, it leaves it open-ended, as if someone might swoop in at the last minute and give a definitive answer while nobody’s looking.

But ultimately this means that I just so happen to know the answer to every question, which is: “It’s unknown.” Can the Yankees hold off Baltimore? It’s unknown. Was Miley Cyrus really in a nightclub fight? It’s unknown. How have these celebrities aged? It’s unknown. Where are the best travel destinations? It’s unknown. What are the movies to see this weekend? It’s unknown. What’s the plot of Desperate Housewives? It’s unknown. Who’s afraid of Virginia Woolf? It’s unknown. Nobody knows, and everybody’s guessing. But they’re willing to throw the question out there for argument’s sake, and then pretend that they hold the solution. That’s what being provocative is all about. The question provokes interest.

And then ever notice how “for the sake of argument” likewise translates into “it’s unknown”? See, I told you it’s a fun game to know ahead of time what the answer is going to be. If somebody ever uses the qualifier “arguably” in a statement, that’s also code for “it’s unknown.” See how easy it all is? Oops, sorry for asking it. You don’t see how easy it is. You can’t know the magnitude of how easy a process is. And it’s likewise unknown if these are in fact the exact droids you’re so patently obsessed with finding. Move right along…

Things I Started to Think About But Decided to Write Down Instead

What if it turns out Yoda wasn't wise, but just illiterate?

If you read this blog, I'll nourish an ailing weasel back to health with non-habit forming substances.

Recalibrating synapses for optimum performance. This may take a few minutes. Please wait as installation completes. Scanning for viruses...

You're not really reading this. It's just a figment, because I myself am a figment. Dieting is a breeze, by the way.

I'm rather non-committal. I hold an umbrella in the rain, but I just don't open it.

As I groggily peer into a fresh set of days, the mock serenity of the first morning belies an impending, inevitable cacophonous firestorm.

Tip for getting rid of clutter... get rid of it.

There's nothing like a good book. There's also nothing like a rotting camel carcass in the sweltering desert heat, but I'll take the book.

How many sticky notes do you need to compile before you have enough for a memoir?

I can't emphasize enough whatever it is I'm trying to say.

I sleep, therefore I am. Descartes was so close...

Birds must know this by now... The people species builds these clear surfaces of hard air, and if you fly into them, the hard air wins.

I wish there were some computer command for sneeze & click. It would've come in handy a few times.

We're awake for roughly 1,000 minutes per day. That's way too much pressure for me.

People say not to sweat things, but sweating helps to rid the body of toxins.

My fantasy synchronized swimming team, the Noseplugs, is in the semifinals. Unfortunately, my star player is out with ruptured sinuses.

If you look askance at Anderson Cooper in just the right lighting, he could pass for a young Larry King with gray hair.

I can't believe it's already 9:30 p.m. I'm a chronological agnostic who only believes in afternoons.

I don't want to sound rude or anything — actually, sounding anything probably wouldn't be all that bad, but I still don't want to sound rude.

When Jimmy Stewart said he could lasso the moon, I can't decide if that was hyperbole or if Dorothy was traumatized by the flying monkeys.

I like pretending I'm only 1 foot tall, and then after I'm all done I feel like a giant!

If everything were meant to be taken literally, trail mix would have dirt in it.

I could give a TED talk. I have a black outfit.

It still rankles me that I have to devote about 15% of my typing allotment to spaces. Not very resourceful at all.

If someone says "really" three times, that means they really, really, really mean it.

You say potato, I say verisimilitude. And nobody quite understands me, but that's the sacrifice I pay for being fond of six-syllable words.

I want to be famous enough someday to have my own fake Twitter account of myself.

But for an obscure reference leaving a palpable fog around its tangled quandary much as a toting life jacket nimbly bobbing in the brine.

Civilization's eventual downfall will be that we permitted half of our best laid plans to be dictated by tiny lab rodents.

My psychologist said I have an irrational fear of Flo the Progressive lady, and that I need to confront my fear by eating spiders.

That moment when you trip over your bathrobe that you forgot to take off before going to work and find yourself faceplanted in a moat.

It's 10:48 at night and I strangely feel like a man out of time. If this were the Victorian Era, I'd surely be staying up later.

Not relying on what I cognitively deduce to make sense, because it's a moving target. Sensing what is real, though, that's more consistent.

I wake up each day with the empowering realization it's a new day that I haven't messed up yet.

What actually occurs is not necessarily what was most likely, so reality is merely a reflection of many possible outcomes, not a finality.

Some people walk defiantly across the street in a way to suggest some roadster once had their pappy's name on it and beat him in a duel.

I didn't write this one. I'm being forced to type this with a rubber band to my head.

Is it unethical to hoard office supplies into Canada? It's just a stray pen, paper clip or Post-it note here or there.

Furtive stealth is to latent ventriloquism as myopic cytoplasm in a rancid petri dish is to protracted weasel espionage.

Wake me up when September ends. Either that, or before you go-go, whichever comes first.

How does someone get motivated to go to a motivational seminar?

"Chance of showers" is code for "We're just guessing here." Yeah, I wish I could've used "chance of showers" on some of my college exams.

Clothing, food, cars, shopping, entertainment... all simply enthralling. But this whole business about being alive? Meh, it's so passe'.

Artificial intelligence in theory seems quite outlandish, though an artificial intelligence would have precisely the same reaction.

It's incredible that Yes had a song about intersections with a big circle in the middle.

I'm friendly enough with my ear buds to call them my ear pals.

We just assume everyone's shoes are the same size as their feet, but chances are most are not synchronous. Another asymmetrical dilemma.

I woke up today and realized the only thing that changed was my state of consciousness. Self-awareness is simply mesmerizing.

Just when I start to reach equilibrium each day, the universe crashes the party and says it's time for bed. I demand an alternate reality.

If I were as uninhibited as Jodie Foster is, I'd be an uninhibited Jodie Foster impersonator.

When the universe sends you chocolate, don't ponder over its intricacies — eat it. Also, the universe has an enormous stash of chocolate.

Persons declaring they have landed from a flight as if it were something they either accomplished or survived. I give them applause anyway.

There's nothing like a good yawn. Or a lawnmower going off a cliff in the torrential rain while attached to a thousand ping pong balls.

I only believe about 4% of what I read. And that's merely at random in order to appease my yearning for an arbitrary inner symmetry.

By saying something is underrated, that only causes it to become overrated. Yin and yang on the cosmic level are not to be trifled with.

I used to eat bacon all the time. Now I only eat it when I'm awake.

People who don't sufficiently fear Monday fail to recognize it's the gateway drug for Tuesday.

Basking in the aftermath of another cleverly-orchestrated mysterious daily cycle gazed at in awe, resplendent with surreal circumstance.

One of the numbers in the PIN on my debit card is a ‘3’. Phew.... I feel like now I know all of you so much better after that.

My involuntary processes seem to be functioning fine without being conscious of them. The universe is practically begging me to take a nap.

Music is the language of nature. (except for accordions and bagpipes, which are the language of tormented vexation in a cauldron of ear wax)

I suppose if I'm going to be alive, I might as well get paid for it.

Model citizen is to modesty as model is to modeling clay.

Lazily meandering overcast days suspended between the floating dream of drifting clouds and languid pastoral effects of misty undertones.

Go with your gut instincts. Liver instincts rarely work.

I need some closure. Would somebody accomplish something today and then tell me about it?

The unassuming epithet "things are back to normal" is the most transient of conditions, onerous of claims, and egregious of misnomers.

Don't know whether pistachios have anything to do with the meaning of life, but I figure I should keep eating them until I find out.

All my plans got derailed for the day. I was going to do nothing, and now that got canceled.

A certificate of recognition is basically an acknowledgement that you exist, although they're not committing to that being good or bad.

I remember going to school with Marty Graw. He was voted most likely to start a parade.

Sick people of the world, I come in peace. Don't breathe on me.

I have my phone in airplane mode. It's got little wings on it and the landing gear is up.

I'm not married to any ideas. I proposed, yet none of them were willing to engage me.

Things seem to come in threes... musketeers, little pigs, wishes, blind mice, stooges, tenors, dog night, habits of highly defective people.

So far, my day is going as planned. I had scheduled breakfast first, then lunch, and then dinner.

Having withdrawals after getting only 9 hours of sleep last night. Will probably have another relapse and need to sleep again tonight.

The word 'typewriter' is said to be the longest word using exclusively the upper row of the keyboard. Maybe a clue for National Treasure 3?

Correct me if I'm right, but didn't we leave Britain so we would no longer have to speak with that accent?

Food is underrated. It should be rated ahead of dirt and rocks. And possibly thermometers.

It was a dark and stormy night... The dark part was expected, while the stormy part made it exciting.

Is it March already? What year?

During the last ten seconds, I was thinking about giraffes instead of elephants.

Spent the whole day gallivanting, and I'm not sure I even know what that is.

My phone's threatening me that if I don't charge the battery right now it's going to take its apps and go home.

There's an underground sinister plan in the works to ensure that "I Can Dream About You" by Dan Hartman gets played 73 trillion times.

The Internet is a lot like life. There are similarities and differences., although the differences aren't big enough to offset the similarities.

People who crunch their tortilla chips really loudly are nature's way of pointing out the weakest links for us to weed out.

If a tree falls in the forest and it lands on a philosopher, does the universe celebrate?

GPS is just a more methodical way of getting lost, along with the added benefit of having something to blame it on.

Adding their token to Monopoly is the first step toward world domination for cats. But on the plus side, at least we don't have to walk cats. Yet.

Installing my consciousness on your C:\ drive... I have read and agree to all the terms and conditions. Select one: I agree; Sure whatever.

If. Think. Can. Do. You. Can. If. Believe. Power. Break. Shackles. Man. Not. Caught. Locks. Not. Constrained. Set. Self. Free. Fly. Beyond.

Still a little groggy after my nap. The one from 2007.

Saturday Night Live has aptly served as a vehicle of wider exposure for fledgling comics, enabling them to remain fledgling indefinitely.

That caramel coconut cookie ice cream was so good it just restored my faith in mankind. And I think I'll have some more restored tomorrow.

The staggering number of people who don't use their turn signals is a clear indication we've been overtaken by poor-driving zombies.

The pathos of grey afternoon sky drapes itself over an unsuspecting terrain of listless inhabitants inwardly aching for solemn reprieve.

You are the master of the universe. Or you were four seconds ago. Did you enjoy it?

Global warming needs to try harder in the winter.

Reality is that nagging thing that causes most of life's problems. In my little world, the abstract neatly solves all parking space issues.

Pssst.... Hey you over there.... Can you spare any characters? Maybe some m's and some v's. I need to send a text to my aunt in Toledo.

Don't let anything hold you back. Other than your own insecurities, what's stopping you from invading Belgium today?

The way I judge an insurance company is how memorable their jingle is. I'm likewise impressed that "on your side" rhymes with "Nationwide".

Office banter is nature's way of allowing an outlet for people who can't tell real jokes.

Only trust people who are you. And even then, be a little bit suspicious.

Take a deep breath. Take a deep breath. Take a deep breath. Take a deep breath...... Um, you were supposed to exhale between each of those.

The one thing people most regret not having done in their life is punch a car salesman.

I feel sorry for tambourine players. No matter how hard they try, they'll never be able to play as well as Tracy from the Partridge Family.

That moment when Darth Vader reveals to you that he's your father. And you're all, "Shut the front door!!...."

Caffeine is never the answer. Naps are the answer. Trying to fool yourself into thinking you're not tired shows disrespect to the nap.

A surfer was credited with riding a record 100-foot wave. Meanwhile, the wave wasn't given any of the credit for it.

Life isn’t really that bad, but it plays one on TV.

I love that runner's high you get when you don't run.

The meaning, mystery, secret and purpose of life all better be the same thing, or I'm going to be very put out. It's hard enough to look for one.

In my day, we had hip hop music, and we'd draw little bunny rabbits and bounce around the room, and then I moved on to the 2nd grade.

I've noticed people who talk loud often have their ringtone volume set loud, while with quieter talking people, I don't tend to hear theirs. Probably just a huge coincidence.

That moment when you're reading something and you realize you're a hologram. Gets me every time.

19% of people surveyed say if pressured to they would eat spumoni with chopsticks. Margin of error in the study is +/-23%.

My kingdom for whatever it is you've got that you're holding back on. I'm in a bartering mood today.

Once you're sick, about all that's left to shoot for is receiving some semblance of pity. You ain't got much else, ergo pity is justifiable.

Got some closure today. It was on sale, and I was running out anyway.

So who's the dumb guy who thought it would be cool to put gutters in bowling?? Totally ruins my score.

I have no idea how this one got past the screeners.

Random acts of kindness implies they occur without any conscious effort. Doesn't that kind of defeat the whole concept of kindness?

Today has been the most surreal day of my life. Then again, this has been true of every successive day for about the last 14 years.

I didn't really need new glasses after all — the new monitor fixed everything. I'm completely pixilated now. Now all I need to do is take this monitor with me everywhere I go. May need to buy some more accessories for it.

One thing they'll be able to say about today's music is that it really rhymes. Musicians are outdoing themselves on the phonetics.

Someone in 2013 surprised by modern cultural excess. "It just snuck up on us while we were busily imbibing reality shows and Ms. Gaga..."

Thus ends another day, ironically in the same place we left the last one. Could be a coincidence, but I'm not ruling out foul play.

Universe, if you give me three extra hours right now, I'll put in a good word for you, and I won't compare you to other universes.

Sorry, I broke the Internet. My bad. I was experimenting with the Artist Formerly Known as Prince symbol in Braille. I've learned my lesson.

There's nothing like a hot bath, except maybe strudel and lime juice on the coast of Greece in the spring with a slight northerly breeze.

Mornings are for the birds, so they can get the worm. And I don't eat worms.

It's rather refreshing how many bands these days are putting forth a real effort to make Nickelback look good.

It's considerably more difficult to write blogs underwater. No wonder more people don't do it.

Always have a contingency plan. And have a backup plan for that too. And then when that doesn't work, have a good exit strategy, like punting.

It's a good thing we have current events and weather, otherwise we'd have no clue what to talk about.

What a day. I woke up, ate a meal, went to work, ate another meal, worked some more, ate another meal, went spelunking, then fell asleep.

Yet another pair of my $1 genuine issue Dollar Tree sunglasses has broken. Those things are costing me at least $2 per year.

Batteries are like a tax for not using an electrical outlet.

Is it today already? Man, time goes by fast...

My personal motto to keep me inspired is "Whatever."

When given a choice in life, always select "none of the above". Your deterministic side will absolutely hate you for it.

Do we have any absolute reference points in anything in life? When we try to assess something, aren't we always making relative comparisons?

I have closure. And I'm at peace. Which only means someone's probably ready to come along and totally mess up my karmic equilibrium.

My favorite part of the day is whenever now is.

“You've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do ya, punk?” inquired Elmo in a recent Sesame Street skit gone awry.

To be stuck in a world where most everything is either mysterious, unpredictable or unknown is about the most wonderful thing imaginable...

The explanation for phenomena we encounter is generally either gravity, entropy, or random distribution. I have no idea what that means.

Nowadays, if you ask someone if they've got any scruples, they'll gladly offer to give them to you.

The only thing worse than a morning is to be awake in one.

Time is a path we all travel on at some point. The present is the vehicle the living share. Earth's scenery is what we most identify with.

You say potato, I say potato...... Hmmph. That didn't translate too well in print. Maybe you had to be there colloquially.

I would be more apt to agree with you if you could first agree with yourself.

Somebody hurry and think of fads that can replace bucket lists, tattoos and reality shows. Don't be dissuaded even if they involve pain.

I think what I'm really lacking in my life are chums. I don't have any good chums. I believe they became extinct in the '70s.

Please take this statement in context.

It floors me that aberrations are normal.

If a mouse walks by today, I've decided I'm going to name it Henry.

Something very odd about today. Twilight Zone odd. Rod Serling is narrating even, and he's nailing it.

Reality isn't what you think it is. It's what I think it is.

I'm already way behind on today's agenda, so I'm just going to start tomorrow early, if nobody particularly minds, cares, or objects.

The true sign of... The definition of a... You know when you have a... The only way to... The best kind of...... Oh, I give up.

I'm getting a lot done by skipping today and going straight to tomorrow. I wonder if I should try the same thing tomorrow too?

I always forget whether P or Q comes first. Because in the backwards version of the song, Q comes first. Anyway, don't spoil it for me...

Half the bands today think they're The Killers. Before you know it, even The Killers are going to think they're The Killers.

People are so cute the way they think linearly. It's simply darling...

How am I supposed to concentrate when my synapses won't stop firing?

I won't be running in the marathon this weekend after all. Actually, I don't run marathons, but it's fun to turn things down regardless.

Another lackluster day in a lackluster life of a lackluster person.... Man, I really lack luster.

Solemnly housed inside this decrepit shell, I peer out into the vastness of an external reality wondering what lurks beyond my safe harbor.

Mornings are like chihuahuas -- they should be exiled to Mongolia.

I'm sure my brain is working today, but I have no way of independently verifying it.

Bold prediction: The sun will not come up tomorrow. Instead, it will stay right where it is.

Brent Musburger went all gaga over a woman in the stands. Keith Jackson would've had the good sense to just leave it at "Whoa, Nellie!"

I asked for curly fries at Jack in the Box, but instead they just gave me mo’ fries.

Why do people have to disagree with each other so much? Why don't they just agree with me and be done with it?

Turns out we didn't really need Casey Kasem to count down songs for us. We could've just played them and figured it out.

Mornings are so popular with me that I make sure to have them all booked in advance.

Twitter is an apt vehicle for freedom of expression, while Facebook is anarchy exposing society's hindermost indulgent bloated underbelly.

Nobody mess with me today. Mess with me on Wednesdays or Thursdays.

Is it just me or do other people do pirhouettes and curtsies when waiting in line?

Check your emotional baggage in at the airport for a flight to Siberia, and then you fly to Tahiti.

It's unbelievably wonderful to me that there is such an incredibly amazing amount of awesomely fabulous things. Exclamation point, even.

Nice to see that witches are making a comeback. We wouldn't want the market to get saturated with zombies and vampires, after all.

If it’s not too much trouble or if there’s some possible way to extract a modicum from the recalcitrant finagling respite which we weave.

Every argument is essentially a semantics argument. As if any of us could really have any grasp of what the words intrinsically meant...

You're not really living until you've done nothing and enjoyed it more than anything else.

I told people on Facebook that it’s a gutted outpouring of bald humanity dripping with palpable excess, and they took it as a compliment.

This idea hasn't developed enough yet.

Light blue Camry, license plate number 238 YLB, your lights are on.

Being aware there are many things I don't know, I still don't know what exactly they are, thus how can I find out what it is I don't know?

Whenever a sports commentator says something else should've happened, I wince. Isn't the reason they play because "should've" means nothing?

I'll bet you've never breathed before. (I lose a lot of bets)

I'd like a Snooze button without the alarm clock.

I was not born to multitask. Attempting to do anything else while breathing is pushing it for me. At least I know my limitations.

Verklempt/angst, verklempt/angst..... Decisions, decisions....

If you remove all context from your statement, OK now I see how it could make sense...

Just realized all the even numbers from 2 to 10 are homophones, while the odd numbers are not. This could be the big break I'm looking for.

Have you considered that 30% of all dental floss is used solely for wrapping around fingers? How can you sleep at night with this happening?

I can't believe what you're saying because you keep using words.

When you're speaking with someone, that's the universe talking to you.

I haven't taken umbrage in a while, and I need something to take umbrage to.

If somebody ever said "Are you talkin' to me?" to me, I'd act like I didn't know they were talking to me.

The more I watch TV, the more I'm impressed with not watching it.

If you say "mmm-bye" at the end of a phone conversation, cut it out. Try something more dignified, like a dying cattle impersonation.

My fantasy yoga team has no motivation this year. They just sit around and breathe a lot.

Had I written “The New Colossus” edict to European immigrants, I'm thinking I would've figured a way to fit "give me your chocolate" in there somewhere as well.

Neil Sedaka began his music career thinking he'd be an icon, but before the '60s were over he'd be relegated to only the 3rd greatest Neil.

It's now the Chinese year of the snake, but I keep forgetting and writing year of the dragon on my checks.

Extra filler for your screen.

Skateboarding isn't a crime. I wonder if gluing them to something is...

The universe says you're not half bad. (it didn't say which half)

When faced with a problem, remember either there's an afterlife and this won't matter, or there's not an afterlife and this won't matter.

Don't type and drive. Unless you type first and then drive. But don't do them both at the sa

Disclaimer: The previous comment was performed by professional drivers on a closed track. Never attempt at home.

The word for the day is 'laconic'. The definition of laconic is 'laconic'.

What if every word were a misnomer? It's a utopia I can only dream of.

Parallel parking gets all the glory, but perpendicular parking is an underappreciated craft in its own right that will someday get its due.

While an admitted fan of the Dalai Lama's, I'm still not all that pleased he's got 18 new rules that I need to live by.

I have no idea what I'm saying. My keyboard is possessed with typing gnomes who use me as a host to feed off of blog posts.

That last comment was not endorsed by the gnomes. I'm contractually obligated to make this disclaimer, as well as feed them crumpets.

Life is like a container full of ball bearings. If you lose one, then you're only missing one, but if you lose two, then you're missing two.

I have a controversial method of organizing e-mail. On even-numbered days, mark them all as read. Then on odd days, put them back to unread.

There must be another stash of chocolate somewhere in the world.

Printers are the gateway drug to toner.

I'm not feeling very motivated today. I'm regarding blinking as a significant accomplishment.

It's a race to see whether I have no interest or don't care.

99% of a book is words you already know, rearranged.

If you raise the bar, by my thinking that only makes it easier to walk under.

Will never forget when Time magazine merged with Life magazine. What was once just Time was now Time-Life. It altered my whole outlook.

Why is it that everybody's an expert after something occurs? Why don't we have any experts before something occurs?

One seemingly insignificant mistake on the keyboard can turn out to make a pig difference.

My day is going along swimmingly. I'm barely treading water.

That moment you realize the technical support person knows less than you do. So the only thing to do is help them figure out your problem.

The NBA has announced it's fining David Stern $250k for being David Stern.

Help... I'm trapped inside a blog and I can't get out. Somebody click your heels together to set me free. I'll explain later.

I'm trying to decide if I really care about the difference between 57 degrees and 54 degrees..... No, too much useless precision.

Bacon, sugar, fat, salt, milk, eggs, strychnine... all bad for you. Is this some sort of cruel joke?

What's Tina Turner got to do with anything?