Sometimes I coordinate workplace behavioral studies. For instance, it is possible to stimulate the amygdala, or the 'panic' center of the brain, merely by setting ordinary office equipment on fire. I then write copious notes on how my co-workers react. Because that's how much I want to be a scientist. This apology card should be sent after the firemen turn off the automatic sprinkler system.
Sometimes I play this videogame called The Sims and the little people keep having emotional breakdowns and wind up defecating in their neighbor's kitchens at 3am, or entering other Sim's bedrooms to watch them make-out while they daydream about nachos. God is playing 7 billion games of The Sims. Man, that sure is a lot of thoughts about nachos.
Some of my closest friends are managers. It's a perfectly respectable job, especially for people who are unable to do anything else. And I get along fine with managers, once they've learned how much easier it is to not ask me questions, like: 'what is it you do here, Che?' or 'why won't you give me back those compromising photos?' On the whole I'd be bored without them.
May 9th is National Lost Sock Memorial Day. I believe that every washing machine manufactured after 1963 was designed to eat precisely one sock per month, just to keep everybody in the consumer world a little off-balance. So where do all the socks go? They're sacrificed, with noble intent, for our collective unease. It's a religion I'm starting. And, of course, I'll be taking donations...
People sometimes feel bad about things and I blame the media, and also spider monkeys. Everybody puts such an emphasis on bad things happening everywhere but a lot of good things happen that don't get reported on. Each year thousands of circus clowns go missing. If you happen to have information about clown disappearances near you, remember: discretion is everything.
Sometimes I cover my face, pretend to be upset, and say to people, 'I've been having some emotional problems lately' which is my way of saying: 'soon you're going to find the roadkill that I've hidden under your bed. I hope we will still be friends'. Friendships; they take work. Today's rehash Wednesday card is for saying sorry. See? I'm your friend.
Apologies are like nailing a dead fruit bat to someone’s door. You don’t want to do it but it stops people complaining.
I believe that families should always communicate. This can, however, be a challenge when your only apparent relative is dead. Even though my Nanna isn't with us anymore, conversations with her can get a bit one-sided; it's hard to get a word in edgewise over her demented shrieking and wailing. My advice: when a loved-one dies, do not hire a witch doctor to be a funeral director.
Today's card is a rehash Wednesday flirting card which means it's probably Not Safe For Work (whatever that means) though it CAN be useful if you'd like to flirt with someone today. It will also make you more popular - every time I send it to a woman she writes back and tells me how much she just wants to be my friend, which obviously is very sweet and quite complimentary.
It's someone's birthday today, maybe not yours or mine but it's someone's; it's commonsense. I know lots about people and most of what I know about people I learned from spiders. Though wasps, when you think about it, are a kind of winged spider. Spiders don't hum like wasps, they just whistle. Nobody really knows why.