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Only Dumb People Can Meditate

-Everyone is a bandwagon fan when it comes to drivers vs. pedestrians. It just depends what side of the situation you’re in at the moment. If I’m a pedestrian, I walk like I have the right away no matter what, crossing streets without a care in the world, even if an 18-wheeler truck is 3 feet away from me. I'll just think, “Ah these cars can wait a second, I got places to be.” But if I’m driving or in a car? And a pedestrian walks in front of me and holds me up for 10 seconds? Well then I’ll start thinking, “Who does this piece of human filth think they are walking in front of my car? Holding me up? You entitled fucking dirtbag.” But deep down, I know I do the exact same thing. 

-I’m jealous of people who are stupid and empty minded enough to meditate. I could never meditate. I’m way too smart. My mind is too active. My brain is too powerful. I can’t just shut it off and clear my head like I’m some kind of moron, but I do envy those idiots who have the power to do that. Seems really great and relaxing. Enjoy it. 

-Here is a sitcom-like scene I really want to happen in my future one day. I’m married to my wife of 2 years and the honeymoon phase is wearing off, as that spousal resentment begins to bubble up underneath the surface. She has a brother who’s troubled and has been in jail before. Nothing too crazy, maybe a non-violent theft of some sort or something regarding drug possession. The details are unimportant. But I’m not crazy about him and think he’s bad news, and he’s not crazy about me either. Doesn’t think I’m “man enough” to be protecting his sister. He has has an extremely outdated view on relationships. But one Saturday, my friend Bill is over to watch some college football and throw back a few beers. He lives down the block. He’s been married a little bit longer so him and his wife hate each other even more. And he says, “Hey Tom” (I’m going by Tom at that point), “Why don’t you come over to my place tomorrow for the Giants game? I’m having a few buddies from work over.” He’s a blue collar union guy of some sort. My wife is in the kitchen and overhears this (and this isn’t to say she’s always in the kitchen or whatever. We’re a modern couple. She’s not expected to just cook and clean. She has a full time job. We order in a lot. We have a cleaning service. I grill from time to time. But in this instance she does just happen to be in the kitchen), and she says “He can’t tomorrow.” Like why are you answering for me? That just makes my resentment bubble up a little bit more. But she’s right because we have plans to go to her brother’s house the next day for a BBQ. So I say “Yeah can’t tomorrow. I’m going to the in-laws house. Or should I say… the outlaw's house” (referring to his past imprisonment). And Bill REALLY eats it up. He erupts in laughter because he knows about the situation. He’s abreast. My wife gives me a stern “Thomas!” because she has to defend her family, but deep down she knows it’s a fucking brilliant pun. Anyway, the conversation then gets interrupted because my agent calls to offer me a role in a new film because I’m an A-list movie star at this point. 

-The person responsible for putting the “tear here” label on little packets very rarely knows the actual place you’re supposed to tear. 

-If I had it in me to be a truly bad and mean person, I think it would come out most when I’m at a store buying many, many items and the cashier still asks, “Do you want a bag?” Like I’d love to just say, “No I don’t need one. I was actually planning to grow 8 more arms out of my body so I could hold all this you fucking moron. How about you use your head?” But that would really make me an asshole and I don’t have that in me so I just say “Yes please” 

Thank you for your time. 

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