i get a head full of bees when you’re in the vicinity

Hot Pockets has a new commercial where chefs in uniform carefully cut roast beef at carving stations next to wood burning ovens.  The succulently prepared beef is delicately placed into puff pastry wraps, closed, then shipped to a store near you. Mmm, that does sound good.  The commercial would have been more accurate, however,  if the actor switched costumes from a chef to a chemist and instead of a fireside carving station he found himself in a laboratory with bunsen burners and beakers that displayed his daily concoctions of Sodium Citrate, Ticalcium Phosphate, Distilled Monoglycerides, Thiamin Mononitrate, Dipotassium Phosphate, Disodium Guanylate, Autolyzed Yeast Extract, Titanium Dioxide and the like.

“Natural Smoke Flavor comin’ up!

– While this HIV outbreak in the porn star community is a terrible occurrence, it is the exact divine signal that Christian extremists have been waiting for.

– I was riding the train recently as a little latina girl and her mother board my car. The little girl was waist high and she was holding the center pole on the subway as we left the station. As we kept going the girl got progressively closer to the pole and then put her cheek and forehead against it. Her mother was oblivious. My first thought was, “Wow, that’s gross. How many disgusting hands and sweaty people have been on that pole today.” Just as I think this, the girl turns her head and begins to wrap her lips around the pole and run them around the circumference. The oblivious mother was none the wiser and I, well, stayed like this until my stop:

"Come on now. At least get some Phil Collins shit up in here."
“Come on now. “

– You know your day has hit a low point when you somehow find yourself listening to the censored version of “Walk it Out”.

– *Note to the homeless man that hangs out by my office: Look. You can’t go around asking for money all day then be wearing nice shoes and chain smoking cigarettes texting on your iPhone. You’ve lost my sympathy.

– Philanthropic fundraisers for La-Z-Boy must be called CHAIRity Events.

–  A lot of ghost stories originate in places where someone was murdered and/or a significant trauma fell upon one or more residents. If that is the case, why is it that most of these aforementioned stories surround slightly overweight families in suburban houses and make no mention of people living in housing projects? A lot of traumatizing shit happens in the projects too, right? Plenty of people getting buried in walls and getting executed and overdosing, etc.  I think it’s high time we hear some ghost stories from the ghetto.

“And so I was comin up da stairs and shit and I heard, like, someone shootin dey gun off and shit. I turned the corner and aint nobody there. I was like, yo, what? I mean, I got goosebumps and shit. Then I got really cold and was like, dang it’s drafty, but it wasn’t cold like dat. It was like, cold son. “

– I was walking past a dry cleaner the other day and happened to notice the decal placed in the front window. You will find the photo below, in addition to some of my thoughts about it:

When you look at this seamstress, her glasses suggest that she is looking down at her fabric but her eyes tell a different story. They seem to be staring directly at you, don’t they? It is safe to say that this fictional woman has, “crazy eyes.” Not just crazy eyes but the kind that would stalk and murder you. Lastly, the woman who seems do be looking everywhere but the sewing machine, has her finger precariously close to the fast moving needle. Sinister? I think so.

– seamstress

*A few hours after writing this, I was on a train and a homeless man was begging for change while wearing Beats by Dre over-the-ear headphones. In all fairness, he was the most putrid smelling individual I have ever encountered…but still. Pawn shop bro.


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