My brain is trying to kill me.
(about death) It’s either mean or it’s arbitrary, and either way I’ve got the heebie-jeebies.
I wonder if you can refuse to inherit the world
I think if you’re born, it’s too late
Reading goes faster when you don’t sweat comprehension.
If you can just get most people to ignore you and leave you alone, you’re doing good.
Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.
I achieve a lower consciousness.
They say the secret of success is being at the right place at the right time, but since you never know when the right time is going to be, I figure the trick is to find the right place and just hang around.
I’ve found some protest music for today’s youth, this stuff really offends mom and dad. Easy listening muzak. I play it real quiet, too.
I’m not dumb, I just have a command of thoroughly useless information.
You can’t turn creativity on like a faucet, you have to be in the right mood; last minute panic.
Isn’t it weird how scientists can imagine all the matter of the universe exploding out of a dot smaller than the head of a pin, but they can’t come up with a more evocative name for it than “the Big Bang”?
I think it’s a fallacy that taste bottoms out somewhere. If they find a way to aim even lower, they’d make some real money.
Say the object of your affection walks by… first, your heart falls into your stomach and splashes your innards. All the moisture makes you sweat profusely, this condensation shorts the cirtcuits to your brain, and you get all woozy, when your brain burns out altogether, your mouth disengages and you babble like a cretin until she leaves.
I pray for the strength to change what I can, the inability to accept what I can’t, and the incapacity to tell the difference.