I’d Rather Not Be Ignored By The Government [Friday Thoughts With TeeCoZee]
Morny. It’s Friday, March 28, Two Thousand and Fourteen. The weather in Brooklyn is 52˚ & cloudy and somewhere, somebody is being publicly shamed for making an innocent comment that became misconstrued as sexual or racist. Little do they know, he was raised in a barn. Everything is backwards in a barn. Also, you can’t say anything these days. I will anyways. Screw the miscontruers, I’ve got some things on my mind!
– Here’s a list of words you can’t say without it being misconstrued:
– There’s a lot of things in this world that I can’t stand. Being ignored is one of those things. I realize how terrible it sounds, but trust me, it feels just as bad as it sounds. I’m finally improving to the point that I no longer get anxious when text messages go unanswered, but some things still get to me. The #1 offender in ignoring me is the US Postal Service. It doesn’t matter how badly I want whatever item I’m waiting for, if I don’t get it in the time allotted, I lose my shit. I was expecting a package to come in the mail yesterday or at least the tracking said that it would come yesterday. Considering the size/value of the package and the fact that my buzzer does not work, I decided that it would be best to stay home all day until the package arrived. At noon, the tracking updated to claim that the package was in Bethpage, NY, which is a good 40 miles away, but the package was still slated to arrive on the same day, which is logistically impossible. This led to 8 straight hours of webpage refreshing and front door checking. Although I knew that the mailman was long gone, I still had faith that some straggler truck driver was going to come and drop off my damned package. Why would the US Government lie about the ETA of my package?!? [Don’t answer that.] When it was all said and done, the Postal Service ruined my day. Not only did I sit at home and do nothing, but I felt really terrible about the fact that they gave me the cold shoulder. If they can’t guarantee that “2 Day” mail is going to come in “2 Days” then just call it something else. Also, I could hitchhike from Cincinnati to Brooklyn faster than that package could get here. Thanks for ruining my day off, fuckbags!
– What other stereotypical thing can I complain about? Let’s go for the weather! Like, come on, it’s late march, why am I still wearing a coat? Yeah, whatever, it’s warm now and it’s staying that way, but now it’s supposed to rain for a week straight. I didn’t know New York had a monsoon season! What, no love? Well, what’s the deal with airplane food? Seriously, what’s the deal with it? I’ve never had it before…
What’s the deal with crickets?
– I was trying to watch Jeopardy last night, but a stupid basketball game was on instead. I must be getting old.
– This week’s letter to Coze comes all the way from…fuck, it’s been in the mail system for so long that I can’t even read it anymore. From some country that’s not America:
Well, its been 217 days since I’ve received this message, and I feel a mixture of surprise that it took me this long to answer and also a bit of shame that it took me this long to answer. For when I got your message, my first intention was to reply to it right then. But I had read once more though what you had written and decided to wait so that I’d have an answer worth reading. And day or two later I had even thought of what I’d write. But somehow the words were never written and answer box remained empty. Had I answered sooner, I could dramatically comment on the douche who put tasteless plastic for cheese on your sandwich instead of cheddar and eagerly ask about the thugs and if they were caught or not. But I guess this morning is now dead and stacked upon the other many mornings you’ve had. And the people you encountered are not fresh in your mind and the zit scars have healed and replenished and that sandwich has long been digested. I have no idea where I was or what I was doing 217 day’s or ago, probably eating something and or watching something or both. I don’t think it matters really, still I thought to make a point of it anyways.
But since then how’ve you been?
It’s about 11:00 nighttime here, and I’ve decided to watch Megamind, since its been a while since I’ve seen an animated movie. I’ve tried to make popcorn this week nearly 5 times thinking it’d be a breeze, the first three being complete failures since apparently olive oil shouldn’t be used for making popcorn. And after watching countless how to YouTube videos I hope this time will be a success. I tried cleaning my wall but it seems the more I touch it the dirtier it gets.
It’s been 343 days since you sent this message and in that time, not much has changed. Thugs forgot my name, sando dudes got fired and a mysterious utility van is parked inside of an office building/banquet hall across the street from my house, looming ominously outside my window, ready to make it’s next move as if I were living in a mash-up between the movie Christine and a based-off-a-true-story Lifetime Original Movie about a rape van/DC Sniper. I no longer fear thugs. Only vans. And vans possessed by thugs. And thugs possessed by vans. I’ve heard that Megamind is a very forgettable movie, so I can’t even ask you how it was because you don’t rmember. But you should give olive oil and popcorn a chance again. My roommate swears by it and he hardly ever curses, so it’s actually meaningful. I have the following things on my desk: 1 computer, 1 mouse, 1 keyboard, 3 hats, 4 glasses, 1 mug, 1 can, 9 cents, 7 paperclips, 2 tape dispensers, 1 measuring tape, 2 lighters, 12 napkins, 6 pens, 1 beer cozy, make that 3 tape dispensers, 1 pair of sunglasses, 1 SNES USB controller, 2 issues of the New Yorker, 1 phone, 3 books, 1 book cover, 1 mini-golf scoring card, 2 empty packs of cigarettes, 1 notebook [painstakingly personalized by your own personal sister], 1 nail clipper, 1/2 brownie, 1 Mickey Mouse bathtub toy. Taking personal inventory is very important in life, you’ll understand someday. I wish I didn’t have a mullet or that pizza crusts weren’t disgusting. There’s a pimple on my nose that is permanently a part of my nose. I’m probably in love with you. Wait, no I’m not. Or am I? Or I’m not. What was the original question. Was that a question? I’ve officially alienated the rest of my readers. Let’s make sure I’m right. COME BACK TO AMERICA, DUMBASS! PUNK ROCK IS NOT DEAD BUT HAS SUBSCRIBED TO AARP! MY CHAIR HAS MULTIPLE RIPS IN IT! WILL YOU MARRY ME?!?
– I decided to upgrade the OS on my computer machine. It was something that I didn’t think I was capable of doing because
a. My OS is 3 generations behind
b. I’m not paying money for some shiny pornographics
c. My computer is 7 years old
4. I have no self-esteem.
Turns out, it is possible, for the low, low price of “Free”. But it still sucked up an hour and a half of my life. That’s an hour and a half that I could’ve spent
writing watching train videos. When it was all said and done, [after 3 separate installation screens] I was finally able to enter the brave new world of…receiving text messages on my desktop?!? Now THATS some big brother shit. I had to immediately text somebody to express the level of “creeped out” I was on. Then I realized how convenient and fun it is, like a chat room for your phone, on your computer. Now I can masturbate to train videos while texting my friend about masturbating to train videos on one device! Wait, there is no reason to do that. I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND KIDS THESE DAYS!
– There’s not much of a difference between the Kool-Aid man and the generic Hawaiian Punch Mascot.
– Try this trick over the weekend: Watch this video and convince yourself that you’re not scared.
What the hell was wrong with 80’s advertising?!?!?
Have a dinnah weekend, everyone!