manic thoughts

On the drive home last night I saw a guy brushing his teeth while driving. If that wasn't weird enough in an of itself...he was brushing his teeth by holding his toothbrush still and then shaking his head "no" as fast as he could. I almost turned the car around to follow him. A guy like that has to be interesting.

One of my toes ( I'm thinking the second toe on my right foot) must be weird because I keep getting a little hole in my socks. Always in a bad spot and always only on one sock. It's really freaking annoying. It just happened to me again this morning and was making me crazy so I put 9 staples in my sock to close the hole. I'd rather deal with scraping my toe with metal than have it poking through the hole.

I think my co worker is coming in my office and fucking with my stapler. There's a little metal piece that the staple slams into the turns the points of the staple either in or out ( I'm serious, check it out) and it seems like my metal plate is always turned out. And I'm pretty sure that I keep turning it in. I was going to confront him about it but thought that if I'm wrong he's going to think that I'm totally insane..you know confronting him in a paranoid way like that...so I decided on a different course of action. I offered to buy the office donuts and gave him a $10 bill and sent him out to go buy the donuts. While he was out I went into his office and fucked with both of his staplers. If it was him, he'll get it. If it wasn't, then he probably won't think anything of it.

My wife never throws anything away. I throw everything away...except books. I was tossing out a gigantic pile of all my kids shit the other day and I came across a pile of stupid little kid books that no one will ever read and I couldn't bring myself to throw them away. It just felt wrong. I finally tossed out a couple of books that had ripped pages or torn covered, but I kinda felt bad about it. Sort of like killing a fly after you spent a couple of minutes after politely trying to shoosh it out the door without having to kill it. Finally you get tired of the moral conflict and say fuck it and start smashing shit.

Coloring books are the exception. I have no problem throwing out coloring books...i actually find them to be somewhat offensive. To run with the anology, think cockroaches.

A lesson poker has taught me: If you want people to be predictable, then you have to be predictable. If you act erraticly, then they'll act erraticly. People are much easier to deal with when not acting erraticly.

Poker lesson 2: Chicks are a lot more aware of the power of their breasts than they ever let on.

OK, I better stop there. The rest of the stuff in my head is a lot more disturbing...better to keep that under wraps.