Levels

Watching ‘Toddlers & Tiaras’ last night, I thought “Your daughter has a lot of levels because she likes to read and she likes to meet new people? This constitutes complexity?”

Then I realized I was mentally debating with one of the idiotic mothers from Toddlers & Tiaras. Apparently my brain also has a lot of levels.

And no stairs.

Silence

Silence doesn’t mean I am uncomfortable and want you to change the subject. It means I think you deserve more than a trite answer. It means I’m sure you’ve heard it all before and don’t need to hear it again from me. It means I can’t fix this for you and I know you don’t want me to. It means I’m listening. It means I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.

Silence means I love you.

Unwitting Wit

I’ve posted several things (on Tumblr) in the past that have garnered responses indicating I should do what I’ve written about. To clarify, by the time I post something on Tumblr, I’ve already done it. Yes, I AM that much of an idiot.
See, I’m funny. I’m just not always funny on purpose. I’d say at least half of my funny is of the unwitting kind, just me being my goofy, silly self. More often than not what makes me funny is not my own wit but the reaction the world has to me being the absent-minded moron I sometimes am.
I think one of the reasons people like being around me is that they don’t know what I’m going to do or say next. What they don’t seem to understand is, neither do I.

I’ve lived at my current residence for about a decade now and since I moved in I’ve received a steady stream of mail addressed to someone I presume is a former resident. After writing ‘no longer at this address’ several times each month over the course of 10 years I decided Canada Post wasn’t getting the message and perhaps it was time to try something different.

On the last envelope wrote ‘Ain’t nobody here but us chickens’.

So far so good.

Cops Have No Sense of Humor

Me: Nice motorcycle. Can I have it?
Him: …
Me: When you get off it to talk to someone do you leave the keys in?
Him: …
Me: Can you look away for a minute?
Him: …
Me: Should I leave now?
Him: Yes.

BUGS!

It’s one of those really hot, humid days here in Ottawa and I’m walking back from the store holding my grocery bag in one hand and swiping randomly at those little fuck-bugs that are all over the place on days such as this with the other. I’m listening to music and totally oblivious to everything around me when I look up and see a man giving me a really odd look, and I realize how the scene must appear from his perspective. I really want to explain my behavior but it occurs to me, if there’s anything stranger than a lady walking down the street swiping frantically at (to him) invisible objects it’s a lady walking down the street swiping frantically at invisible objects and yelling ‘BUGS!’ out of nowhere. So I just keep walking.

Hello, new neighbor. Welcome to crazy town

What you can do with your pedestal

I’m really patient with people to the point that some call me an angel which makes me want to smack them upside the head but I don’t because I’m really patient with people.

Allie Brosh - hyperboleandahalf

Discover You

I Want to Write Poems to the Back of Your Neck

I want to write poems to the back of your neck
take your soft hairs in mine
and shine them with love

I want to hold your throat like a bird
and feel your bones’ heat
put my heart on your heart
and stay silent

I want
you only you, only you
and to know this dark silent singing
will be heard

-Kim Morrissey