This isn’t one of those posts where I complain about how boring it is to get older. In fact, I’ve always been boring.
When I was a kid, my neighbors would come and ask if I wanted to play. I would decline and resume the monotony I was deeply entranced in inside. As a college student, I would pass on most adventures, a decision that, while usually the smart idea, was not always the most exciting.
Even now I’m boring. I have devised boring plans for my weekend. They are to eat sushi and go to a movie.
If you think I’m exaggerating how boring I really am, here is a rundown of my day:
7:43- I wake up and look at the clock. Since I am supposed to be at work at 7:45, I do my best roadrunner impression (minus the annoying “Beep-Beep!”) and head out the door.
7:48- I arrive at work, nearly on time.
7:48-12:00- I read every article on the CNN website. I also write a little bit.
12:30-6:00- I continue to read every article on CNN.com, occasionally stopping to look something up on Wikipedia.
6:00-10:00- I tell my wife all about the articles I read on CNN.com (“Did you know that Barack Obama was going to meet with,” I will start before she interrupts and says something along the lines of “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”)
10:00- I sleep.
If you are awake after that explanation of my day, congratulations. You should receive some kind of medal for people who can withstand insane amounts of boredom. It would be less respected than the Presidential Medal of Honor, but more so than a daytime Emmy.
I don’t know where my boredom came from. I would assume that it is a family trait, having been handed down from generation to generation. My great great great great great great grandfather was probably invited on the Mayflower but stayed in England, saying, “I don’t know about that, guys. That water looks really cold. I might fall in or something. I think Shakespeare has a new play this weekend. I think I’ll check that out. Next time, though. For sure next time.”
I’ve thought about doing some more exciting things to bump the excitement level of my life up a notch. Maybe I should go skydiving or bungee jumping, I thought. I do not, however, have any interest in plummeting from great heights, so those activities are off the table.
I could start a dog fighting ring. I like dogs way too much for that, though.
Maybe I should bump it up a few notches. I could live my life purely for excitement. I could ditch all of my personal belongs and jump a train, headed to an unknown destination. Once there, I would go about town charming the women and fighting the men, a drifter in an unknown city. I would gamble for a living and spend my evenings at the local hot spot, scamming people into giving me their hard earned bucks. With that money, I would buy the supplies for a high profile art heist, one the likes of which has never been seen or will be seen again. After becoming a billionaire from black market art dealing, I would escape to a remote island, narrowly avoiding imprisonment. There I would live out the rest of my days.
That seems like a lot of work, though.
I think I’ll see what’s new on CNN.com.
I hate summer.
I hate summer more than you can imagine. If I were a superhero, my arch nemesis would be Dr. Summer. I would spend all of my time trying to stop Dr. Summer from destroying Megaopolis, my superhero location, with his heat ray and humidity blaster.
I remember when I was young, I loved summer. Summer meant no more school which equaled freedom. Yes, around mid-July, the freedom did start to get boring, but I was free nonetheless. It didn’t matter if the humidity was 625% or the heat index was clocking in at 212 degrees.
As I grew older, though, this love of summer drifted away. Maybe it was my childlike wonder dying. Maybe I had grown disillusioned with the world. Maybe I was no longer allowed to summers off as an adult, making me increasingly bitter.
Whatever the reason, the views of summer are drastically different between childhood and adulthood. The differences in the view of summer can be expressed with these two formulas:
Adulthood: Summer=Seriously? Does the thermometer really say that? Looks like the lawn isn’t getting mowed this month…
Now, all of this is not to be blamed on Mother Nature. She’s a good ol’ dame, providing us with a great deal of pleasant weather. Remember spring? Now that is a season. No, I give equal blame to the weather and to Kansas City.
Ah, yes. My hometown. There is a lot to love about Kansas City. There’s barbecue, there’s culture (Seriously, there actually is. Our art museum has an exhibit of Monet’s water lily paintings right now, and if that isn’t culture, then I don’t know what is.), there’s an interesting history involving Jesse James and Charlie Parker and Walt Disney.
One thing you can’t love, though, is the weather.
You know how people try to justify the heat in Arizona by repeatedly saying, “It’s a dry heat,” completely ignoring the fact that their dry heat is clocking in at 115 degrees? Kansas City doesn’t even have that luxury. It isn’t uncommon to watch the news and see a weather report saying, “The high tomorrow be a hot 100 degrees with a heat index of 112.”
See, Kansas City is home to the heat index, a mythical calculation of humidity and temperature that tells you what it feels like outside. This calculation was invented because meteorologists felt stupid getting on TV and saying, “Tomorrow will be 100, but it’ll feel super-hot instead of just really-hot.” It is used to try to adequately express how much you don’t want to go outside because you will instantly feel sweat pouring down your face.
In fact, a better measurement of temperature would be the sweat index. This would be calculated by the number of seconds it is until you feel disgusting and are in need of a shower. When the weatherman said, “The sweat index tomorrow will be 1.3 seconds, so definitely bring a change of clothes and an extra Speed Stick!” you would know exactly what was being talked about and how that relates to your real life.
Fortunately, the air conditioner was invented. Without it, Kansas City would become a ghost town. No one would move, everyone would sit on their couch, fan blowing at them, thinking about how nice Minnesota must be this time of the year.
You’re still prone to think this occasionally even with the AC. Air conditioners can only do so much and until I find a portable air conditioner suit (You’d think if they can send a man to the moon…) then I will still spend a good amount of my time worried that my insides are beginning to boil.
I’m thinking about moving to a zoo’s penguin habitat during the summers. There’s fish to eat and that’s brain food. It’s cooler and you don’t feel overdressed with your tuxedo on. I will have no reason to step outside during the summer months. There, I will wait out Dr. Summer until Fallman finally arrives.
He is significantly more pleasant.
- If You Can’t Stand The Heat, Get Out of the Kitchen. You Might Also Want to Avoid My Car. (badlandsbadley.wordpress.com)
A while back, I posted several ways to start a conversation for the more awkward amongst us. After all, it can be hard to make friends, particularly if everything that comes out of your mouth is complete and utter nonsense.
In a continuation of my effort to help these people overcome their issues and remove themselves from any list of social pariahs they may have been placed on, I have come up with more conversation starters for you. If these do not help you make friends, you’re probably hopeless and should move away from mankind and live with the chimpanzees like Jane Goodall. Chimpanzees are too busy throwing their own dung to care about what you say.
The Official Life and Times Conversation Starters Part II:
-Does this milk smell alright to you? I found it in the dumpster out back…
-Would you like to go halfsies on a package of tube socks?
-I couldn’t help but noticing your mole. It looks very regal.
-Estoy hablando en español. ¿Alguna vez se habla en ninguna lengua extranjera y, en caso afirmativo, ¿cómo son sus habilidades para contar en ese idioma? Sólo puede recibir hasta 113.
-Would you like to see the designs I had shaved into my back hair?
-Just for the record, your toilet cannot flush down a loafer. In other unrelated news, we have the same shoe size…
-This gum still hasn’t lost its flavor. Here, taste it.
-I am a robot from the future. I am here to destroy you…
-How are your masonry skills? I really need to build a wall.
-Who would you rather date: Richard Dreyfuss or Joan Jett? I’d choose Richoan Dreyett.
-John Jacob Jingleheimerschmidt? His name is my name too. What a small world!
-At what point does flatulence stop being funny? I say around the 8 second mark.
-My mom is on the phone. She’d like to say hi.
-I seem to have misplaced my pants. Yours are really comfy though.
Using these is guaranteed to make you the life of the party.