I don’t understand why there are so many settings on blenders. They all seem like they do the same thing.

Some people donate their bodies to science when they die.  When I die I want to donate my body to a sacrificial cult.  That way I know I am definitely saving at least one person.

Whenever I see a cop anytime after not stopping quite completely at a stop sign, I freak out.  Somehow I assume he has infinite knowledge, and I start sweating and thinking, “He knows!! HE’S ONTO ME!!”

I think they should privatize the mail industry, so then I can make a company where we look through your letters and fix your typos.  And if you so desire, we can give you a neutral third party perspective on your issues. “You know, you really should give him another chance. He might not be able to spell, but he does love you.”

When people accidentally gently touch me and then apologize, I don’t forgive them.

I think some people put their silverware drawers in nonsensical places, just to make me look bad when I’m in their kitchen and I try to guess where it is.

Sometimes when I make a joke that no one picks up on I turn and wink at an invisible camera.

Whenever it rains people have umbrellas to keep water from getting on them.  So apparently water is the enemy.  But then they drink up tons of water.  Now there’s a trojan horse scenario if I ever saw one—and they just chugged it on in.

I am going to invent a character who solves crime through texting.  His name will be Jones.  Detextive Jones.

BWAHAHAHAHA!

n e ways guys, g2g. cime 2 solve. lol

Some categories that have struck me recently.

There are two kinds of conversationalists.  There are the starters and the thrivers.  Some people I know are quiet, but once you start talking to them they always have amazing stories and ideas, and they’re hilarious.  They are thrivers.  I am more of a starter than a thriver.  Starters like to get conversations going, and see where others will take them.

There are two kinds of urbanites, makers and takers.  Some people blame their town or city for their bad life, calling it lame and telling other people it’s not a very good place to live.  These people are takers; they depend on others to energize them.  The makers are the people who always try to make wherever they live a good place.

There are two kinds of small children.  There are wanderers and statues.  Some babies get up in the middle of the night and start driving their parents’ car down the street (my little brother).  They are the troublesome children, always running away with their curiosity.  Some small children though are petrified of wandering off.  They are the statues.

That is all.  Carry on.

I love the uncrusted bites of a grilled cheese sandwich.

The moment you get to put your head under the shower, letting the water crash down on you like a sentient rock with its own personal waterfall.

That my friend Sam Johns thought he was an elf when he was a kid.

The thought that freed balloons never pop.

That Oscar Wilde wrote a long letter dripping with honesty about life and the truth while in prison.

Windshield wipers that smoothly and swiftly do their job to perfection.

When friends join you in going around and each giving a speech in praise of one part of the human body.

That it’s a huge public world that we all get to share and enjoy, but that we are also each deeply private worlds that only we can know.

Driving through exploding fire hydrants.

Going into work and saying to my boss, ‘You may dispense with the pleasantries, commander. I am here to put you back on schedule.’

That people get together and do Viking reenactments.

Telling people that I don’t text.

That you can decide what to say at any second.

Floppy ear lobes.

When people see me with a beard for the first time.

Making French toast with Italian bread and saying ‘Hola!’ to your first bite.

When you order successfully at a restaurant.

That life is big, and it’s just getting going.  That God has grace, and I could never earn it.  That summer is coming, and my best friend is still in my life. 

That we all get to do this thing called life together.

Summer is coming.  Beat the sun to smiling on the world.  Hope you’re all doing well, friends.

Too bad. A comedian never reveals his jokes.

The biggest objection anyone could ever have to doing something is that they’re lying down.  This is a very testable theory.  Lie down for fifteen minutes or more and then think of something to do.  Ten bucks says you don’t do it.

I love when I see a couple and they’re both really tall.  It’s so exciting that they found each other.  But then again . . . I guess it makes sense.  Tall people find each other pretty easily. 

One time I thought I had to poop, but I really only had to fart.  Another time I thought I had to fart, but I really had to poop.  Some mistakes are worse to make than others.

Seriousness is an infection of the soul.  Silliness is the healthiness of the soul.  I’m being serious.

The choice isn’t between getting married and being single for the rest of your life, the choice is between getting married and having a pet rhinoceros you can keep in your garage.  Because if I get married, she sure isn’t going to let me have a rhinoceros.  But if I don’t get married, I’m pretty sure I’m riding it to work.

If I do get married I am going to buy the rights to a song with my wife.  Then when it comes on and we’re at a dance hall we can say, ‘They’re playing our song.’  Then while we’re dancing we can stare into each others’ eyes and think of all the money we’re going to win when we sue.

It’s a terrific Monday to be alive, soldiers!  Onward! TO THE KING!!