Phone it in Friday
It’s 5AM and I’m awake for unknown reasons. But got a lot on the to-do today so let’s knock this out before I fall back asleep until 11 and throw off my whole schedule.
Big ideas
Best part about breweries is beer flights. Why don’t normal bars just do flights of different beers they have on tap? Could be a fun way to try a few different things at a place with a big beer list.
There should be an app that tracks how you hit each of your golf clubs then offers live recommendations of which club to use from a particular distance. Fucking smoked someone’s back deck the other day using a 7 iron when I should have used a 9.
Wider pipes for toilets. A toilet should never get clogged unless you try to flush a dictionary. Why don’t they just increase the width of the pipes to account for all fecal eventualities? Makes no sense.
A social media network where you have to agree to only share funny content. If you try to post a single political thought you get permanently auto-banned. “You’re taking away my free speech.” Nah you signed that shit away when you joined the app.
The Gluttony Games. Kind of a higher stakes reboot of The Biggest Loser. It’s basically the Hunger Games except for people from obese communities. And the prize is you get food taken away from your district so everyone gets healthier. Might ration in some insulin as well.
Sad life snippets
Down in Florida right now and the fam only has one car here, which my dad currently is using for a business trip to Miami. No I don’t think he’s moving powder but I’m not 100% ruling it out. Anyways I’ve been walking everywhere as if this is the 70s and I’m a poor. Had about 45-minutes to kill while waiting for CVS to do the arduous task of putting 30 pills in a bottle, so I decided to pop into a local bar. I was sitting there, eating a nice salad (new year, less of me), slugging a brew, and listening to my podcast, and I thought to myself “this is the most content I’ve been in a while.” Not sure what it says about anything that I was truly happy just sitting alone at a bar midday on a Wednesday.
When I was like 22 I got a limited release craft beer from some side gig I was doing. Thing was one of those unit bottles of craft beer that had been aged in 3 different types of alcohol barrels and only a few were manufactured. I was so drunk when I went to drink it that I started reflecting on all the work that went into making it and got wicked emotional. Probably didn’t need to pile a 14% beer on top of all that.
I don’t think my body heals itself correctly. I hurt my left wrist boxing about a month back and it hasn’t improved at all despite me not boxing or really lifting since the injury. The bone definitely isn’t broken so idk what we’re doing here.
I’ve been told that I’m very emotionally intelligent and am good at identifying my feelings in the moment and what’s causing them. Unfortunately, in my mind that means I think I’m allowed to lash out at random shit because I’m aware of what I’m actually upset about. It feels like if I know I’m being immature and blaming the wrong thing, it’s ok.
I once puked in an Uber, woke up at 6AM with a ruined shirt, a splitting headache, and a $200 Uber fee I had to eat. So I decided to order a Subway Italian footlong on herb & cheese bread for breakfast because at that point it didn’t matter.
What’s on my mind right now
If the zombie apocalypse ever hits, I think I’m going to make my last stand in Eataly. Endless elite food, presumably a gate to keep the hoards out, and a LOT of knives and fire. UPDATE: Went back to bed and actually had this dream. Worked out worse than expected.
Speaking of which, I went to Eataly for the first time in a while recently. Was browsing around and saw a little area where they were dry-aging really nice cuts of beef. Started tearing up at how beautiful they looked. Was stone sober.
At my Uncle’s 50th birthday party, my parents slow danced to “Dream On” by Aerosmith. Still don’t think I’ve ever mentally recovered from that image.
Why on earth do people live in Tornado Alley? Like I don’t want to see people lose their homes, but what do you expect? You live somewhere that’s named for the frequency of destructive weather events. And don’t tell me they have nowhere else to live. There’s plenty of cheap midwestern real estate that isn’t in the known path of a tornado.
How could the guy in A Cinderella Story not figure out Hilary Duff was the girl he danced with at the prom? Her masquerade mask only covered her eyes, not her whole face. And you spoke to her several times in the subsequent days…you couldn’t recognize the voice? Plus it’s not like this was some random college party. You were in high school. Everyone is at least aware of the existence of everyone else. I wouldn’t be pining after this guy if I was Hil Dog. Dude doesn’t seem like he’s got a lot between the ears.
Back to bed. Let me know what you think about this when I’m awake again at noon.
