I saw a guy wearing a poncho the other day. Not like a rain poncho. Like he’s that one dude trying to wait out a 3-hour rain delay. And not like a cool Lord of the Rings Elven Cloak. I’m talking like full-on rug-that-has-a-hole-in-the-middle poncho. Seriously though, isn’t that all a poncho is? A holey rug?
This wasn’t exactly what I saw because the guy I walked by was a lot less ethnic and brooding, but this is what I’m talking about. When people wear clothes that I don’t understand, I always assume that they feel like they are rockin the shit outta whatever it is that’s confusing me. If that’s the case, you have to respect the decision. Plus, I’m sure it’s super warm. Nobody buys breezy rugs.
I’ve been reading about a lot of Twitter beef lately, which I think is really stupid. It’s double stupid because 1). I think it’s super ridiculous to get into a fight with someone over a medium that only let’s you communicate thoughts 140 characters at a time, and 2). I think it’s stupid that I actually click on that article and read about it. I don’t even know why I do. Something about that link bait makes me click on that article and actually spend 2 minutes of my life reading about nonsense.
Part of me wanted to post a Facebook status pretending to think it was a real thing and then de-friend anyone who corrected me.
Kevin: “I’ve been reading a lot about Twitter Beef lately. Does anyone know what store I can buy some from, and is it paleo?”
De-Friended Commentor: “Bro twitter beef is when two people on twitter are calling each other out you idiot lol”
Kevin: “So like…Whole Foods then?”
I don’t know when it was, but I realized that the words “Slaughter” and “Laughter” are close in spelling, but the meanings are terrifyingly different. It’s like mixing up the phrase “don’t really” and “really don’t.”
I don’t really like Greg’s poncho.
I really don’t like Greg’s poncho.
The second version of that sentence makes you sound like you’re pretty put off about Greg’s stupid poncho. I get it, it doesn’t look great, but you don’t have to be a dick about it. He’s standing like 10 feet away from us and he said his grandma gave it to him. “Slaughter” and “Laughter” are on a completely different level though.
You know what’s really funny? A goats laughter.
You know what’s really funny? Nevermind
I was originally going to use the word “baby” instead of “goat” because I think it’s a funnier joke, but a lot of people that I know have kids now and I want to cater to my 8 readers. So it was for the greater good. I’m the Harold Crick of jokes, and if you get that joke, you can correct my Twitter beefs anytime you want.
Kevin: “OOOOOOOO Bro I just got it. Twitter beef is like buffalo wings or like a chicken nuggets. Like it’s kind of real, but it’s not a real thing, right?”
I skipped such a huge portion of the year when I typically write, and that’s around the Fallidays. I usually get all warm and fuzzy with the feeling of family and thankfulness and giving and embracing a new year of change and all that crap. But this year, I just didn’t make enough time for it. That, and I feel like everytime I have to force myself to write something, it’s not worth writing. Even this was a little bit of a push, but not like it was at the end of last year. The desire to write is there, but the content isn’t. I love that feeling of coming up with that good idea, and expanding thoughts and analogies are falling out of my brain faster than my fingers can put them to electronic paper. And I’m laughing at the jokes myself and thinking, “You’re hilarious AND handsome!” I feel like everyone who has created something has felt that buzz when they get on that roll. But at the end of last year, I felt like I had to put my brain through a meat grinder just to come up with the equivalent of a fart joke.
So I took some time off from the meat grinder and wrote down a lot of one line thoughts in hope that mushing them all together will drum up enough content for a decent post. You are now reading one of those posts now.
This had about as much value as an article about Tweet Beefs. But thanks for reading anyway.
– Greg’s Brother