Have A Nice Day Vol. 10

Yes, I do make my stupid titles by just looking at things around or on my computer desk. And yes, I was originally going to call this blog "The Adventures of Brian The Man". But Brian doesn't rhyme with "The Man". And it hurts me, inside, to know that.

Some dude at the pet store was all in my face, telling me how to feed my cats, and I was all, "back off man, I don't tell you how to feed the donkey you're obviously having sex with, you Mr. Ass in your Ass guy!".

But yeah, I actually just said, "that's an excellent plan, I was considering doing that myself." I hate when I have to agree with the expertise (That I was going to do anyway!) of some punk teenager whom I'm older than and thus obviously smarter than.

I went to college, damn it! I know all kinds of stuff! Sure it's not as strenuous as the training for Petsmart...and I mostly drew doodles of the current date on my notes and somehow backed my way into a Human Resources degree...but hey, if there's one thing I know, it's how to fall asleep in a library. And how to feed my cats. They're my cats. They talk to me. They say things like "meow", and "mew", and I know what they mean.

Do you know?

I considered, briefly, today that I would force my future child into learning some sport that would make him or her famous and more importantly, rich, so that I could become rich by getting handouts. Then I figured that I would probably have to wait, at the very least, 15 years after the birth of the child for that to happen. I'd be so OLD! I'm old enough now. I ain't got no patience for that. So I figured I'd just cross my fingers and hope my brother would somehow become famous soon. I'm told he's handsome, if not an aimless gatabout.

So Scott, get famous, get me money. I'm hungry for Applebees and I've got shit all in my wallet.