Hello There

I’m the guy standing way too close to you in the check out line. I like the way your neck looks.

I know that most people desire at least a good one foot buffer zone between them and strangers, but I don’t believe in buffer zones. Because if I did, how else would I know that you smell like fresh Irish soap? That’s not something you can ascertain by having your ‘personal space.”

Don’t mind my heavy breathing; I’m quite out of shape. I just like to sit at home all day and build historical recreations using my toe nail clippings. Not a lot of time to exercise, as you probably guessed.

If I let out random words from time to time, don’t mind me. Sometimes my mouth doesn’t keep up with my brain, or vice versa; I’m really not sure. Flip. Say, there’s a mole on your neck here, and I’m not sure but I think it’s in the shape of Lincoln’s stove top hat. That’s pretty neat, right? Barf.

Oh, I see you don’t appreciate me breaking your personal buffer zone. I could tell by the way you backed up and purposely stepped on my toe. Carrot. But if you think that’s going to stop me, no sir. I’m going to reach across you as if you weren’t there and grab a candy bar, because I enjoy making people uncomfortable, and I like candy bars. Lancing.

You’ve made your purchase now, and you’re looking at me with those eyes. But before you call the law, I just want you to know, that I enjoyed taking in your space. It was quite a pleasure. Construction.

The Freezer Theorem

I have found that there's a mathematical formula behind my life. The matrix, or code, if you will. I enjoy a good frosty soda every now and then. And since they've not invented the opposite of microwaves yet, I often throw a can in the freezer for a quick chill.

For every can I throw in there, one out of every three I will forget about, creating an explosion of impossible to clean soda goo throughout the area of the freezer.

It's a game of soda goo roulette, yet I continue to play.