There’s a scene in Malcolm in the middle where little Dewey is talking about this imaginary monster. He goes on and on about it to his brother Reese saying:
“So then the monster started growling at me, so I threw rocks at him, and I killed him, and then he started flying around on rocket boost, and I got to ride inside his head, and now the monster’s my friend, and we went–and we went to get Slurpees.”
So, angry Reese gets fed up with Dewey and screams at him:
“Dewey, you did not, you just lied”
You know, this what happens with me sometimes, except that little Dewy is in my head. Sometimes I wish I could take my brain out, put it on a table in front of me and shout at it like Reese shouted at Dewey. “This is not real, all these are illusions, you’re imagining things”. You think it would quit but nooooo… I’ve been trying to control it for years, now I gave up, I just let it imagine things and I just sit there and enjoy it.
You know what really makes me see red? When I’m talking about how much I love chocolate and someone says: “ But you need to be careful, chocolate makes you fat.”
And you think I don’t know that, why? Or maybe you think that by loving chocolate I actually mean consuming it mindlessly like a fish consumes crumbs of whatever that is that fish eat. I do have a high tolerance for blood sugar but it doesn’t mean I don’t know the basic physiological facts about consuming and burning calories, no need to point out the obvious.
You know when you’re in a restaurant or a cafe and someone asks the waiter or the barista: “Is this good?” or “What do you think I should have?” What makes them expect that this person they’ve never met would have the same taste as them? And seriously, having the waiter stand there just so you can decide what to have when the place is full of other people. I mean, it’s food, it’s not like you’re conducting a chemical experiment that could blow up in your face if you choose the wrong element. Just decide already, it won’t kill you to try something new.
You’re driving on a two-way street, divided by nothing more than a strip of white paint, and then there’s that car coming at you from the other direction, that someone who for some reason gave himself the right to drive in the middle of the road in order to save time. And if it’s not bad enough that they’re going the wrong way and violating your lane, they also flash their headlights at you. Like, what do I do exactly? If I was a little bit crazier I would crash into them and then let’s see what the traffic police would say.
This has been happening more often than before: cigarette butts thrown out of car windows. Not to mention all other kinds of litter, it all reflects a grossly high sense of irresponsibility and selfishness, but cigarette butts? The other day I saw a car that had broken down and there was this big pool of fuel on the street nearbt. Now imagine if some jerk threw a cigarette butt while it was still lit there, or imagine if some car was leaking gasoline, which happened once to a car that was driving in front of me. What if some jerk decided he was done with his cigarette right there and then?
AWhy do you have to smoke while you’re driving anyway? And why on earth would someone smoke inside an elevator?