I’d Rather Be A Serial Killer [Friday Thoughts With TeeCoZee]
Good meaning. It’s Friday, July 31, Two Thousand and Fifteen. The weather in Brooklyn is 87˚ & shut up and somewhere, somebody is taking dictation as a pro athlete tells his life story. His parents met at the 7-Eleven, got married at a Circle K and divorced at a Kia Dealership. The writer wonders, “What does this have to do with football?” “Was this the wrong guy? Am I interviewing some guy off the street that looked kind of like Rob Gronkowski? Is there more than one Gronk? Does he have a boner?” But that’s neither here nor there nor somewhere else. I have other things on my mind…
– I had a dream the other night that I was wearing a blazer. Because that would be pretty awesome, for it to be slightly chilly outside so that a fashionable tweed jacket would be, uh, fashionable. Instead, everything is suck and bears a thin glaze of condensation at all times. Most mornings, it’s hard to move. It’s also hard to move most nights. And most afternoons. HEAT MAKES IT IMPOSSIBLE TO MOVE. But I stuck by my guns as I’m abhorrent toward the notion of air conditioning my home. Because if I did that, everyone would want to be in the living room. And that shit is my sanctuary. So instead, I tried something bold. Something that nobody has recommended to me but will probably save my life.
I took a cold shower.
And my life has changed forever.
Why didn’t anybody tell me these shits were so good? I feel like I’ve been missing out on the last 28 years. It’s some vital information that should’ve been given to me at birth. Common sense. If you’re sweaty, take a cold shower. It’s like being in a pool except you can pee in it without feeling guilty! Hell, you can masturbate in it too! Make a sandwich. Do homework. Who cares, it’s a shower! And you can do this 100 times a day and it won’t cost you a dime [because you were smart and you rented an apartment that’s not in California and doesn’t charge for water]! Hell, I’m gonna go take one right now! It’s gonna be great!
Oh man, it’s like there’s a party in my mouth and nobody showed up because the rest of my body is a pool party! I was always under the impression that cold showers were conductive to lowering your sex drive and being a serial killer. Only half of that is true. If you ever find yourself naked and immensely refreshed, chances are you’re ready for The Sex if the situation provides itself. Taking a hot shower lowers the odds of sex because the bathroom gets all sweaty and steamy and mold grows everywhere and nobody can see anything so then the serial killer can come in and kill serially. But it is true that serial killers take cold showers because they like reprieve from heat, just like every other human being.
On a side note, do serial killers even exist at this point? With the ways of social media and personal transparency, I feel like it’d be hard to get away with murder, let alone a string of murders. Most killers that you see do the deed and then either turn/do themselves in. My theory? With the digital age, everybody is searching for instant gratification. Anything that takes time and patience is no longer worth it. This includes murder, which is [probably] a strenuous task. Once one actually does it, he/she/it is gonna want people to know as soon as humanly possible, or else their actions would cease to exist. Because of this need for acknowledgement, we now see people trying to kill crowds in one event instead of stringing one at a time over the course of years. Just a sign of the times, I guess. Wait, why am I talking about this?
– I was finding it hard to look in the mirror, as I have gained a lot of weight this year. Instead of doing something about it, I got a hair cut. Now I’m gorgeous! Look at that hair! Woo! Everything’s coming up Cozy!
– I’m not sure if I’ve admitted this before, but this whole time, I’ve been typing with two fingers. It drives people insane, but it’s how I’ve always rolled. I felt like I was alone in the universe, until I found out that David Foster Wallace typed 2 drafts of Infinite Jest with one finger. What the hell?!? Even I don’t have that patience. One finger typing is for serial killers.
– I bought an Amazon Fire Stick because I’m an idiot that likes spending money. The thing barely even worked. MLB TV would freeze up every 10 seconds or just not play at all. Thinking that I just wasted 40 bucks, I wrote a scathing review of it. Amazon immediately emailed me saying that I should call customer service so that they can “troubleshoot” the issue. So I did and to my surprise, we were discussing a refund within 10 seconds. Amazon is slowly taking over the world because their customer service defies standards. They’re quick to admit that their own product is shitty for certain things and are never afraid to give you your money back for it. Of course, this is not something they advertise, but if you really are dissatisfied, you’ll get your money. Another thing that surprised me is where they are out-sourcing their call centers. Calling customer support at 10pm, you’d expect an Indian person relocated to Bangladesh. Instead, I got a Texan relocated to Seattle. We talked about the Astros. Discussed the outcomes of today’s hot stove. For once, my customer care rep was just some laid back dude. Because Amazon knows that that’s what I would want. They gauge my purchases, know that I don’t normally complain and they select a representative accordingly. Or at least, that’s what I’m fantasizing. I’m probably not that important.
No letter from Coze this week. I have no time to flirt with robots. I’ll do two next week.
– Try this trick over the weekend: wear a coat. Sweat off the pounds. Then eat a gallon of ice cream.
Have a sweaty weekend, everyone!