I always wonder what Ferris Bueller ended up doing for a living." />
I always wonder what Ferris Bueller ended up doing for a living. Someone needs to make a sequel.
Okay, call me an idiot, but I still don't know what in the hell a trans fat is. And frankly, I'm not sure I want to. Apparently, Tank Johnson is allowed to go more places than trans fats. Even Kentucky Fried Chicken hates them, and fat is KFC's bread and butter.
Brittney Spears shaved her head. And I still don't care about her.
One of these days, I'm gonna ask a random bum for a quarter, just to see what happens.
American Idol is still going on. And I still don't care about it.
Typing of American Idol, I just remembered that the morning radio show guys at 97X here in Tampa have elected to avoid talking about American Idol, and instead provide us with a recap of a random hour of The Home Shopping Network. That's funny shit if you ask me (all right, maybe your opinion of funny has nothing to do with asking me anything? it's just an expression… ease up).
I would totally murder someone for an end to hyperbole.
I don't think anyone really and truly understands what's going on anywhere. Ever. And quite frankly, that line of thinking really takes the pressure off.
If I won millions in the lottery, I would invest it all and lose it just so my friends would stop hitting me up for cash.
A couple years ago, while catching a Phish show at the Thomas & Mack Center in Las Vegas, it occurred to me that kids go to college in that town. UNLV is either super easy or it has a low graduation rate. I mean, it has to be either or, right?
Yesterday morning, my friend Royce Spinks, a regular reader of my columns, who was often quoted in my snippets (especially in the early months), passed away. Services are being held in Dallas, Texas, one of the many places in which Royce had lived, but the one place he truly called home. We'll miss you, buddy.
Oh, and on a semi-related note: that's two dead friends in eight days for me. There ought to be some place I can file a grievance. I mean, why not? I'm fucking grieving.
And finally, because logic and fluidity skipped town to hustle cards, I leave you with the following, the best compliment Royce ever gave me on a column.
“Hey, that last one you wrote didn't totally suck.”
I'm gonna miss him.
Labels: observations