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I'm in Nebraska and once had Matt Damon eat at the restaurant I cooked at. As cooks, you dont enter the dining area, and I'm sure he heard us saying "Matt damon" in the voice of team America. On the off chance you see this Matt. I had nothing to do with it, and I'm sorry.

I don't understand why so many people love curly hair. Don't get me wrong, it landed me a lot of action in high school, but even cutting it short amounts to hair that is absolutely unmanageable. I look like ace Ventura and can't for the life of me tame this mess.

I always get offended seeing Mormons walking up and down my street and never knocking on my door because of my over enthusiasm to talk about Christ. I usually invite them in, try to make them tea and cook them dinner, so I don't see the problem. I feel I'm showing decent interest in their crap.

So some turd broke into my house yesterday. It was the first time I was awoken by this, so I grabbed my handgun. I had just emptied my shotgun to clean it the night before. I've never been so afraid of holding a handgun in my life. Luckily my presence scared em off and nothing happened. I can't accentuate more how terrible this year has been. Jesus, it's only June...

ETA: I would've just given them a few bucks and a place to stay if they needed. I was always just taught to not point a weapon at people. I hope they're well. No hard feelings buds. You probably know my door still stays unlocked.

a reply to: sine.nomine

That's freaky. I had someone try to break in on me in my studio once. They were deterred, apparently, by my manly and agressive sounding voice.

But anyways...

No one would ever want to break into my place. I'm poor. You wanna know how I know I'm poor? My eating utensils are neither "flat", nor made of silver. What should I call my "ware"? I don't know.

a reply to: DictionaryOfExcuses

I'm with you there. I have a lot of musical instruments. An accordion, banjo, two basses, a few guitars, some crappy amps, keyboards and synthesizers, and some low end things. Other than that, my wife and I have two plates, two cups, two bowls, and a lot of tea.

We don't like to do dishes, and love to dance and play foolish songs. We aren't complex people. Most of our money after bills goes to our pets.

But you're never poor with good company and music in my opinion.

a reply to: sine.nomine

Banjos, eh? You're cool, I don't need to know anything else about you. I used to play a bit of clawhammer, and for a few months, I had a resonator banjo I played with finger picks. Damn I wish I still had 'em...banjos are a hoot! I've got my hands full with a mandolin, acoustic and electric guitars, a bass, a keyboard, my voice, and more percussion doodads than I know what to do with. Music is the best!

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I'm Thirty. Freaking. Eight. Years old, and still, if I so much as look at chocolate, I get pimples. Why must it be so?

Do you think zombies poop? For how much they eat, you'd think they'd be carrying some massive loads in their pants.

a reply to: sine.nomine

Is the word "poop" an onomatopoeia?

a reply to: DictionaryOfExcuses

Lol maybe you should get your bowels checked if it is.

a reply to: sine.nomine

Checked? Or registered with Guinness Book of World Records?

Verizon customer service. Can't beat it.
Lol

Well, its official. I've become the crotchety old man who goes outside to watch the kids light their fireworks to make sure they dont hit my house because my cats got scared. Jesus, what have I become?
😅

At what age do you officially stop caring about sucking it in anymore? My gut, my pride.

So my wife and I had a wonderful conversation about odd doctor recommendations. A friend of ours has a prescription to masturbate. I have a prescription for chocolate milk and waffles. There are medical reasons for both but they sound funny to say.

a reply to: sine.nomine

If I created apps, I would create a prank call app called "DeepStack" that used archived audio recordings of Robert Stack to read scripts written by the app users.

I guess it's good I don't create apps.

a reply to: DictionaryOfExcuses

I just woke up from a dream in which I was having sex on an asteroid. The interesting thing isn't the sex; that was quite normal. The odd thing is that the asteroid was called Fred A-Stair because it was a step above normal sex. What the hell is wrong with me?

I found myself telling my wife to appreciate the small things in life, which got me wondering... What are the big things?

BTW, I was called an asshole and heard the back door slam as I typed this. Life is fun. And painful.

My wife was moving a garden hose and it crossed over my feet, so I got startled because I thought it might be a snake. I asked her if she's ever been bitten by a snake. She said "of course not, have you?" Yes, I've been bitten, but it doesn't really hurt. I said it is kinda like being stabbed, have you ever been stabbed, she said "of course not." Lol.