Things...

1. I've realized that I don't really feel sorry for anybody these days. I'm not sure what it is, but I guess I lack empathy to a certain degree. Case in point, people in wheelchairs. I mean, I don't hate all people in wheelchairs. I'm sure there have been some great ones. But there are those who think they are entitled to shit because they can't walk. It would suck to not be able to walk. I know that. The other night in the store, I was pulling this gigantic pallet of dog food. This thing probably weighed 800+ pounds. I'm going at a pretty good pace to the other side of the store when this guy wheels out in front of me like he owns the fucking place. I had to slam on the brakes, almost getting crushed in the process. No reason for us both to be paralyzed, asshole. Then he looks at me like I'm an asshole for not having some fucking spider sense to tell me when some guy is going to dart out in front of me. I'm sorry. I'm not the one who paralyzed you. I mean, I wish ALS upon people sometimes, but I didn't even know this guy. He knew I was coming. That thing is loud as hell. Ugh. If it would have fallen and I would have had to restack it, I probably would have dumped him out.

And another thing...just because your feet don't work doesn't mean you don't have to wear shoes. People have nasty feet. At least wear some socks.

2. Plumb. Why haven't I heard of Plumb before two nights ago. From what I can tell, she's been around for awhile. I'm usually not this oblivious about music-related things. She sounds kinda like Amy Lee without all the bitchiness and the not returning my letters/calls/bags of kittens. I've had to break out the headphones again because I don't think Jon or probably the people who live under me appreciate Plumb as much as I do.

3. I'm torn. I haven't shaved in awhile and, wait for it....waaaaaaait for it...there's visible facial hair! I'm pretty excited. I try not to get too excited, though. I don't want to scare it off. My problem is that, in order for it to eventually grow out, I'm probably going to have to go through this awkward "I should probably shave" stage for awhile. My question is this: is it worth it? Ladies? Facial hair a good enough thing to endure this unkempt douchebag phase?

4. People keep telling me I should set goals for myself. I guess my goal of not dying by choking on food isn't good enough on its own. I should apparently make better goals. Well, I've made a goal, but it doesn't really involve me. I just want to help. Maybe I'm wrong, but I see this situation playing out around me, and it's like watching a movie that has a good ending but a beginning and middle that make it so excruciatingly painful to watch that you almost walk out. The parties involved might not want my help. I thought about that for while and realized I don't really care what they want. So yeah. I'm helping. And it's going to be great. You're welcome in advance. I'm working on a strategy.

5. Yahoo writes the dumbest fucking articles this side of that paper I used to work for when I worked for it. Look at this article I just read. It's basically saying, "Hey, fuck it...follow your dreams. Anybody can do it. Anybody who is getting paid a shitload already. You'll be fine!" What about guys like me? Where are our inspirational stories? Maybe I want to open my individually wrapped cracker-sized cheese factory or the baby bird-themed restaurant that grinds your food up for you and pours it in your mouth. Maybe I want to do that. Should I quit my lucrative job? I mean, I am pulling down "receiving associate" money.

6. I really think these horns have some kind of magical powers. Seriously. Since I um...happened upon these horns, it seems like everything is coming up Dale. Forget a career, love, happiness and all that stuff. I think I was just missing these horns. They've really pulled my life together. I hope Jimmy's dad didn't get a bill from the place where they disappeared.