1. I realize statistics don't lie. I realized this when I took Statistics in college, and got an A+ (don't question it...they give A+'s in college). So it would seem that giving statistics to rebuttal someone heralding an athlete as "awesome" or "good" would be logical, eh? I don't think I need to give an example, as I'm sure you are all picking an instance where this has happened to you...you post a gleeful status about your love for, say, David Murphy, (my favorite underrated player), only to see hours later that a small war of words has broken out while people rattle off stats like his low batting average, or errors this season, or strikeouts in away games...or something. My point is this: I don't like you people. And although statistics may prove that a player's stats aren't as high as some other player's stats, I beg you to show me your stats and we'll see if you can do any better.
2. I feel bad for people who like themselves soooo much so, that consequently, they end up liking themselves far more than anyone else likes them. I don't mean this to be funny....I genuinely feel bad for these people. Two schools of thought on this one:
- They either suffer from such serious low self esteem that the only way to console themselves is to boast about how awesome they are in hopes that someone will actually believe them. In which case, I feel bad for them, because "you are beautiful in every single way, and you are beautiful no matter what they sayyyy..." (Thanks X-tina.)
- They genuinely think they are far superior than any other friend, family member, acquaintance, colleague, etc., that they're associated with, and in doing so, cause those people to cross their fingers and pray/hope patiently that said person gets a reality check in the form of a swift kick to the gut. In all seriousness, I feel more bad for these people because it's sad to say but, they probably aren't nearly as awesome as they think they are, in which case I wish they would become conscious of this reality so they could step off their high horse and have fun with the rest of us.
3. If you're at all worth my while, you know my parents have a delicious little cafe in our hometown. One of our business priorities is to make each person's dining experience personable and friendly; we want you to feel like part of the family. One of our tactics in carrying this ideology out is to ask each person when they approach the register:
"Can I have your name, please?"
...................WHY IN THE NAME OF PETER, PAUL AND MARY IS THIS SUCH A DIFFICULT QUESTION?!?!
Sorry for that outburst. *Ahem.* But for real. Nearly every time I ask this, people either give me a blank, utterly confused stare and begin to blubber, "uuuh, whaa....uhhh, -J-Je-Jeff." "See, that wasn't so hard Jeff....assuming you've had this name longer than 5 minutes and aren't a con-artist using an alias. In which case, don't worry; I'm asking your name not because I'm an undercover cop, but so that I know who to give your flippin' flapjacks to." Other times, it's a couple, in which case they look at eachother with a confused look, until one of them coughs up, usually the other person's name. In which case I'd like to reply: "Oh I'm sorry, is this a blind date?" My favorite is when they glare at me. This one's rare, and when it happens, I know I'm in for a real treat of an individual...you're seriously going to act irritated that I asked you one of the most common questions on earth, and simply for the reason that I'd like to ensure that the food you're about to request and pay me for makes it to your table in a timely fashion?? It's not like I asked what size underwear you're wearing, ya fatty.
Ahhh....release. I feel better after getting those little nuggets out of my head and onto the computer screen where they're safe. Goodnight, blog-world.