You know that scene in the Dennis the Menace movie where that girl makes a boy kiss the doll’s butt? I think that might have really messed me up.
Red: Good color. A sporting fan’s staple, but whether above the waist or below, you are likely to stand out.
Orange: You will stand out and it will be because you look weird.
Yellow and Brown: I group these together for two reasons. First, they are my favorite colors. Unfortunately, the second reason is because when I tell people that, they always remark that these colors remind them of peepee and poopoo, respectively, and that’s just the worst.
Green: How people work this color into their wardrobe, I’ll never know. Ownership of green clothing is more likely a memory than a current state.
Blue: This is the most normal color; the color my parents wish I could be like, but it’s not without its own unique controversy: finding good blue clothing is so easy, people will quickly come to believe it’s your favorite color and, trust me, it’s not.
Purple: If you wear this and people don’t think “Go back to the box of Crayola-brand Bold-style markers you crawled out from,” then I don’t know people like I think I do.
Pink: Eek, that’s a girl’s color! But it can be quite exquisite.
Black: Very common, but you just can’t trust it. One of the many disturbing things that black clothing has an unquenchable urge to reveal is dry scalp flakes. I’m not willing to admit that’s a problem for me personally, but I definitely have a close friend who suffers from it and, believe me, he finds it a constant concern.
Gray: Ultimately all your blacks will fade to gray and just like a natural gray, that’s gray-t (great). There’s no easier way to develop street credibility than with an article of clothing that suggests you’ve owned it for some indistinctly long amount of time. Some might say, “Hey. Why’d you wash your shirt so much that it faded,” but once they see that this simple faded tee is actually a faded Ramones tee, well, they’ll know you’ve been a fan since probably sometime in the 90s, commonly referred to as their “classic” period by fans and punk historians, and you’ve just sent that naysayer to the Rock ‘n’ Roll High School for the Recently Informed to get their diploma in Knowing How Cool Someone Is. That’s totally radical, man.
White: It’s impossible to wear just white because more than likely you’re wearing red and white after spilling tomato sauce or ketchup on yourself. Perhaps it might even be a yellow spot from sweet, sweet turmeric, but then it’s a yellow spot and now we’re talkin’ peepee again.
You know what’s easier than making decisions? Saying “I no know. I just a baby,” when someone asks you a question.
Have you ever been truly impressed by someone’s ability to feel? Yeah, me neither.
Some things really make you take stock of your life. You know what I mean? Like this insurance form I was filling out that had me listing all of my belongings. It helped me realize that I own three TVs. What a country we live in!
Nothing makes people spill their guts quite like a knife and I could see he wasn’t going to give up the information I needed willingly. So while he was bleeding out on the floor, I snatched the briefcase. Later, I realized I didn’t have the combination to the lock and after many failed attempts at prying it open, I went back to find him and see if he could help. His body had badly decomposed by that point until all that was left was a dried pool of blood where his guts used to be and a white outline where his bones used to be. Another victim of calcium deficiency, I lamented.
I never did get that information, but I often look back on my first week as a private investigator fondly. I still have the briefcase too. I mostly use it as a conversation piece for when I tell guests that “I couldn’t crack my first case,” but I also use it to prop open my bedroom window in the summer. I want to get rid of it because I’ve already told the joke to everyone I know and I don’t have much use for it during the rest of the year, but my lawyer says I better hold onto it since it might be considered evidence.
Terrified young male tries to understand the female orgasm.
Got a bunch of great psychology transparencies at Keene State today; this is the kind of juvenile thing I’ll be doing with them.