I’d Rather Blame It On Solar Flares [Saturday Thoughts With TeeCoZee]

Allo. Voulez-vous mourir ce soir? Non? DOMMAGE!!! It’s Friday Saturday, May 9, Two Thousand and Fifteen. The weather in Brooklyn is 58˚ & blegh and somewhere, somebody is borrowing a DVD from a friend. The DVD will never get watched, will collect dust on a shelf in the corner and the friendship will disintegrate to the point that when the DVD is found again, nobody will know where it actually came from, how long it’s been there and if anybody’s actually seen the movie. I have and let me tell you, Ghost In The Machine is a cinematic relic that was far ahead of its time to the point that the world still probably isn’t ready for it. Give it another 10 years. I also have some things on my mind…

– I’m not going to mention where I’ve been. You’re not my mother and if you were, you would’ve already known why I took a month hiatus. All of these details will be released in due time. To whet your whistle, here’s a list of 10 things that I wasn’t doing:

10) Moving
9) Making good decisions about my life
8) Drinking root beer
7) Getting way laid
6) Learning how to sew
5) Trying to save my acting career
4) Eating carrots
2) Knowing how to count backwards from 10
3) Exercising
2) Spelling “exercising” without autocorrect intervening
1) Reading

You might think that this list is too obvious. You might also think that I would need a rather large ego to think that my readers care that much about the minutiae of my day-to-day life. But enough about you. Back to me.

– The world has been losing its marbles this week. You may have noticed that your text messages aren’t going through, Facebook conversations from years ago have opened back up and you suddenly came down with the mood swings of a manic depressive off-off-broadway actor. This is because we experienced a larger-than-normal solar flare. For those who never aspired to work for The NSA, a solar flare is when the sun ejaculates little sun sperms into the solar system. These blinding globs of spunk carry energy that is equivalent to 160,000,000,000 megatons of TNT, which is enough TNT to air every episode of Law & Order 200 times. This energy hovers over the earth’s atmosphere and messes with our satellites, hearts and minds. Although its not proven to have psychological effects, some say that it’s similar to a full moon. This is why I got on a train and had multiple people gawk and stare at me as if they wanted to kill me. It had nothing to do with the fact that I was wearing a bona fide Crip uniform, they were just people driven insane by a solar flare and had an affinity towards wearing red. I thought this one guy was going to smash my head through the window. Solar flares. I texted my mom and she didn’t respond after 30 seconds. Solar flares. My nose won’t stop running. Solar flares. I can’t seem to get anything productive done. Solar flares. That’s the beauty of science: we might not be able to see this cosmic jizz, but because of their mysterious nature, we can blame just about anything on it. But now I just can’t wait for people to start acting like themselves again. Yesterday, I saw an old lady nonchalantly kicking a trash can into the middle of the street. She’s getting there and if we follow her lead, we can all be back to normalcy by dinner!

– Years ago, back when I was a romantic more optimistic, I had a habit of leaving notes to random girls on the train. It was never anything too forward [most of the time, not even forward at all] and of course, I would never leave any contact info or have any intention to see those girls again. It was just an activity that I partook in just so I could feel like I made someones day better. Now that I’ve turned into a hardened curmudgeon, I sometimes drop notes just so I can feel like my old self. It’s a hell of an adrenaline rush. The only problem is that for the last 5 times I’ve done it, I later convinced myself that I already knew that person. Whether it be a friend of a friend or a distant acquaintance, I keep kicking myself in the head for being a creeper to someone who I might run into again. On the other end, shame on that person for also not saying anything or pointing out that we know each other. It’s a 2-way street, dingus! Yesterday, I left a note to a girl that kept smiling at me [or moreso, smiling because of the baby next to her]. It read:

This weekend is going to be better than last weekend.
But it will pale in comparison to 3 weekends from now.
These are facts.

It took me about 84 seconds to realize that there’s an 85% chance that it was my friends girlfriend. I’m blaming it on solar flares.

– This edition of Ad Nauseous is brought to you by 39 Steps: The $39 Hit Comedy!

Oh yeah, that’s cool. Because the bull is a recognizable tourist hotspot in downtown Manhattan. So it’s definitive New York. And red roses are funny. Don’t ask me why, but whenever I see a red nose, I have to stop balancing my checkbook and have a short chuckle. Gets me every time. So New York + Red Noses = Comedy In New York! This is a breathtaking invention! New York is known around the world as Drama City. You walk around Times Square [in the Hells Kitchen district] and there are people on every corner trying to get you to come to a “Free Drama Show”. Everywhere you look, there’s Drama Clubs, Drama Open Mics and even people being dramatic on their own, crying with their loved ones in public. It’s a sad city that we live in, but with this revolutionary new stage show, we can turn it all around. Could you imagine that? New Yorkers laughing! We should make tons of these ads! Let’s put a red nose on the Statue of Liberty! While we’re at it, let’s put a red nose on Grant’s Tomb, The Marcy Projects, a crying hobo, 121 2nd Ave and Rikers Island. Let’s make New York laugh! Red nose everything!

– Leave it to the friggin Yankees to attempt a mustache trend. Unless you’re a bullfighter, mustaches and sports don’t mix. To the untrained eye, the Yankees now look like a rag-tag team of pedophiles. On the contrary, they are a rag-tag team of millionaire pedophiles. Huge difference. Nobody cares. Those darn solar flares.

– I keep on thinking I’m getting fatter, but then the next day, I look fine. It’s been a few months, but I just now realized that my mental image and self-esteem is directly correlated with the size of hat that I’m wearing. I need to stop wearing small hats. Or maybe it’s solar flares.

– This weeks Letter From Coze goes out to oh**d**ye, a girl who used to wear mens jeans and uncontrollably cute. Instead of using my [read: limited] intellect to woo her, I spaz the fugg out and send her some drivel that I wouldn’t even know how to respond to:

“Oh wow, I used to wear men’s jeans too! We have so much in common. Despite the fact that I’m a little disturbed by the term “pounding grape”, you seem like the type of person I would want to aimlessly wander around with in a bookstore inside a park which is actually a bigger alleyway inside a bigger bookstore inside the worlds largest city that’s inside the worlds largest bookstore that’s in the utility room of the worlds smallest casino. That is, if you’re not prone to getting into knife fights. I don’t roll with shade.”

Why do I always shoot myself in the foot whenever I find a girl that I’m attracted to and could [probably] get along with? Easy. Solar flares.

Try this trick over the weekend: Go to the store. Steal some stuff. Get caught. Blame it on solar flares. Explain solar flares. Distract them. Run. Enjoy free stuff.

Have a flaring weekend, everyone!