I’d Rather Not Get Mugged By Mr Peanut [Friday Thoughts With TeeCoZee]

Bon aprés-midi. Croissant. Oui. Cool. It’s Friday, July 3, Two Thousand and Fifteen. The weather in Brooklyn is 83˚ & sunny and somewhere, somebody is unwrapping a piece of gum for the first time in ages. After the first bite, they are instantly refreshed. After the second, they wonder why they don’t chew gum more frequently. Third bite, still loving it. Fourth bite, flavor’s gone. Fifth bite, stomach ache. Sixth bite, the person is scrambling to find a trash receptacle. After the seventh bite, it’s spitted out in haste right onto a cop’s shoe. I swear these things happen all the time. But never to me. Gum chewing is an expensive hobby. I also have some things on my mind…

– I’ve been living like an asshole lately. I’ve been eating craft hummus and sipping on aero-pressed Stumptown coffee. I’ve been to 3 baseball games in the last 2 weeks, all on the lower-level first base line. I’m not afraid to fliff coin on a cold-pressed juice. I never have ti worry about paying the bills. I’m getting invited to rooftop parties. I think I might get a tattoo for the hell of it. I’ve been watching baseball every night. My dinner is usually ramen. I maintain a steady buzz of Coors and Evan Williams every night. I no longer use the desk in my room, because the chair is covered in ties. My shoes reeks of foot odor and it’s infecting the whole apartment. I’m going to live forever. I’ll probably die tomorrow. I’ve been living like an asshole lately.

– This guy has been working a saw outside for the last 2 hours. The same generic ’90s dance song has also been playing the entire time. On a loop. With pre-recorded studio audiences in the background. I don’t know what I’m more confused about: the fact that he’s been listening to the same song or the fact that every friday, he always has something to saw. WHAT IN THE HELL IS HE SAWING? IS SAWING EVEN A WORD? WOULD IT BE SEEING? NOTHING MAKES SENSE ANYMORE!

– The standards on what kinds of people scare us has changed drastically over the years. It used to be that if you crossed by a muscular dude at night, it’d probably mean trouble. Back in the day, bufferey = boxer/gang member/vagrant/all of the above. Nowadays, if I see a buff guy on an empty sidewalk at night, my immediate reaction is “Oh look, he just left the gym. Good for him. I wonder where that gym is. Wait, no I don’t.” Inversely, if I come across a scrawny dude that walks with little-to-no agility, I know shit’s about to go down, guaranteed. Hell, he could be dressed as Mr. Peanut and I’d still cross to the other side of the street. That’d actually be frightening as hell. He’s been out of work for a while. We may not have realized it, but physical fitness and body care is something that has become deeply entrenched in American Bourgeois Culture. Or at least this is the case in the city. The fit person can afford a gym membership, go to weekly spin classes and will generally not fuck your shit up. Just picture a fitness trainer with a gun. Now picture an unfit person with a gun. Suddenly, the weak have become more dangerous than the strong. This is due to the fact that strength has become a financial investment. It’s cheaper to be gluttonous than well-balanced. It’s cheaper to buy a Little Debbie Cake than an apple. The C Trains are running NTT Cars. The whole world is backwards! And yet, the more money I make, the heavier I get. Wait a minute…

-This week’s Letter From Coze went out 20 seconds ago to oh***a, a girl who’s affinity towards colored hair if driving my brain batshit:

Oh hi. Here’s a list for your face, because whatever.

– A guy has been working a table saw and playing the same 90s dance jam outside my window for the last 3 hours.
– My roommate gets creeped out when I watch him play video games.
– Let me spoil the ending of Infinite Jest for you real quick: The tide was way out. Turn back to tape one, side a.
– I need to find ways to upgrade my ramen. I’d ask my roommate, but he gets creeped out when I watch him cook.
– I don’t think I’ve finished a book yet this year. That’s kind of sad.
– I would hate to be mugged by Mr Peanut. I’m sure he’s hard up for cash.
– This may or may not be copied and pasted into my blog. Or this message may or may not have been copied and pasted from my blog. I’m blowing my own mind. I don’t even know the answer. What was the question?
– I would clean my room, but my ties look really comfortable sitting in my chair. I’m just letting them be until they get sick of it.
– I’m 75% sure you’re catfishing me.
– I think catfish is the best of the lower-tier seafoods.
– If my probability stands, I’m banking on the 25% chance that you’re real and would like to get a drink sometime. I’m also a compulsive gambler. Wait, no I’m not.
– I’m Troy. I exist. It’s awesome. I’m a fan of it.

I don’t know why I don’t have the capacity to talk like a normal adult when I come across a woman that I’m hopelessly attracted to. Hopefully someday, this throwing bullshit at the wall method is going to work and for some reason come of as charming. Until that happens, I’ll choose my target for next Friday.

– My hands have been really dry lately. It doesn’t make much sense, as my hands hardly ever get dry. I haven’t used lotion in over 10 years. I’m a moist one. But I get back from camping [yep, living like an asshole] and noticed that my hands were dry. The next day, they were still dry. And the day after. As my co-workers bacterial infection slowly made her arm inflate like Popeye after a spinach bender, I couldn’t help but wonder what was causing this to happen. After hearing the news that my aunt’s leg broke again, I marveled at the perfect circles that my dead skin was forming in. How did they get so circular? Did they do this on purpose? A guy asked me for change, and I had to admit that my hands were too dry to dig through my pockets. This is the most horrible thing to happen to me all year! Why do these benign ailments keep happening to me?!?!

– This edition of Ad Nauseous is brought to you by Kevin Hart’s “What Now?” tour:
Well, aren’t we cool? Selling out the Garden like that. But yet, you still want us to come to your comedy arena show? How in the hell can we, when it’s sold out. In fact, this ad gives us no info on how to even get tickets. You know why? Because it’s sold out! This ad works on so many levels. The name “What Now” is what you’ll be asking if you try to go to the show. You’ll be standing in the rain, wondering what to do, because the shit’s sold out! Hahahahahahahahahaha! Inversely, somebody probably asked Kevin Hart “what now?” after finding out that the NYC shows sold out. His answer: print a buttload of subway adverts to rub it into everyone’s faces! What is confusing is that if you didn’t know that Kevin Hart is a comedian, you’d think he was some overly-emotional R&B artist. A real intense and classy ad of a guy standing in the rain. That just screams comedy. Or maybe that’s the part of the joke? Is the whole ad a joke? Is Kevin Hart even on tour?> Did somebody make this to troll him? Or to troll fans?

Update: this comedy tour is real. And it’s sold out. And Stubhub is charging over a hundo a pop. Let me remind you, there’s a lot of funny people in NYC. Most of them you can see for less than $20. And most of them have the decency to own an umbrella.

Try this trick over the weekend: Hand out fliers to the Kevin Hart comedy show while shouting, “Hundred dollar comedy show! Sold out!”

Have a independent weekend, everyone!