Fun At Arby's and New Priorities

Hey, at least you don't suddenly bleed on teenage cashier boys at Arby's. I did that the other night. My nose started bleeding, kind of profusely, drops splattering the counter, while I was trying to tell my order to the Arby's employee. I had to use both handkerchiefs I had in my pants (which I eventually filled with blood) before the bleeding subsided long enough for me to get the order out of my mouth while blood dripped on my tongue, gums and beard.

How embarrassing! But for only a second, however, and then I didn't care because I knew I was most likely grossing every other customer standing beside me and behind me. So... It was worth it, I suppose. I tend to disgust or irritate at least one person every day. I would put something like that on my tombstone "Here Lies Kelly. He could piss anybody off without even trying." But I'm too cheap for all of that lettering, not to mention the plot expenses and so on, so I'm going to have myself cremated. Instructions will then include having my ashes sprinkled over some asshole's ice cream sundae. Or something like that.

My mother-in-law wants a really expensive casket and extravagant funeral. She already has it all planned out. Why? She's gonna be dead. Why do people do that? Simple answer: Vanity.

Er, where was I? Ah, yeah, my nose bleed.

My nose gets a kick out of bleeding like that -especially when it's really dry and cold outside or if I pick a particularly hard booger that's done a super job of gluing itself to my nose booger wall.

Say, "Thank you for sharing!"

These days, since my month long 95% recovery from Major Depression -which I've been diagnosed with for the last five years, my priorities in life have greatly changed.

For one, I don't care as much how I look when I go out in public. That's not to say I go out around town with my tube steak and blueberries hanging out of my pants. You can get ticketed and arrested for that shit. Or... in my case, possibly laughed at.*

*Due to my left testicle being the size of a small Granny Apple and the other one being just peachy -And by that, I mean normal. What's with all this food talk in this post?

No, I try to, at the very least, brush my teeth, comb my hair (even the pubes) and wear normal clothing when I go out. No more Sex Instructor: First Lessons Free type shirts are worn or even owned. I was the first, in my high school, to wear that shirt, by the way. Such pride! Now, if I were to go out with that shirt on, I would be thought of as some old pervert (which, of course, I am) but anyway....

I just believe it's all trivial and vain to go out in normal everyday places, wearing a popular name suit and a twenty to thirty dollar haircut.... or for the ladies (and some men, I suppose) -five pounds of makeup slathered on or plastic surgery work done on their faces. Even if it's for the workplace, don't demean yourself. As much as you have been likely brainwashed by this society, you really are not a product to be sold.

Number two: I don't give a rat's ass about how cute you think your kids are. I don't want to see their pictures. And if they're screaming at a table near me at a restaurant, expect a dirty look or much, much more from me if you don't remove them promptly or discipline them. They're irritating me and everyone else. It's rude. I'm trying to eat, digest my food properly and perhaps cut a small, yet quaint fart. People just don't have the cojones (or something like that) to give the parent(s) what I affectionately call "The Mean Bastard Glare".

Get those screamin' monkeys out of here!

Number three: Keeping up with the latest electronic gadgetry. That's an endless, futile and very expensive goal. You can keep your high powered computers, iPhone and other devices of diversion and stick 'em way up your toot hole. I'm just as happy reading a paperback book.

And lastly: Arguing continuously with certain people. If I've made my point and you've made yours and we still don't agree, then let's cool off for awhile and step away. More than likely, it won't be the end of the world. And later, after some thought, somebody might just see the other's point of view and go with it.