January 06, 2015

Ten Things I Just Don't Understand


Regarding my post yesterday, I want to clarify one thing: the "annoying kids" I was talking about actually meant me, an overgrown, annoying kid going nuts about the jellyfish at the aquarium.

Ya know, a little Monday morning subtle self-deprecation.

Unfortunately, every numnut with a keyboard knows that subtle self-deprecating humor and Mondays don't mix. In other words, I was a fool. So I just want to apologize to anyone out there who may not have understood my point.

Seriously, I don't know a better place than an aquarium to put your kids.

And I also just want you to know that you're not alone. I misunderstand things all the time. In fact, here are ten things that I myself don't understand right this moment.


Look, you know it and I know it: no matter what adjective you put in front of it, cheesecake isn't going to be healthy. So what is to be accomplished by taking the good part out? Not only will you be eating something unhealthy, now it will also not taste that good. It's like the worst of all worlds. (And frankly, a dishonor to the name of cheesecake.)


I'm thinking that not everyone operates with a cloud of potential pimples hanging over their heads like I do.


But... like... bacon?


Don't me wrong; I get occasionally hitting the snooze button. But what I don't get are those people who intentionally set their alarm 15 or 20 minutes early just so they can hit snooze three or four times. Do you even enjoy those extra 15 or 20 minutes or are your short dreams punctured with the anxiety of impending doom?


I guess I could have just generalized this to cover "adult things."



Three dancing noodles? A very hot Frisbee? No one will ever know.


I am a relatively clean person living alone in a one bedroom apartment that I'm really hardly ever in. And half the time, it's a hair-all-over-the-bathroom-counters, clothes-all-over-the-bedroom-floor mess. So I'd like to know what kind of person can keep an entire HOUSE clean, especially if it's inhabited by more than one tiny, burping, pooping, crayon-coloring little human.

Further evidence that stay-at-home moms (and dads) are a different species.


Mmmmnope, still don't get it.


No but seriously; I don't understand you.


... As I'm over here talking about bacon. Again.