Don't you love it when you go through the forgot your password prompts and you answer your secret questions correctly and they tell you your new password has been sent to your email address and then, you know what comes next, you have no idea which email address you used.
Gotta love backyard chickens, too. You go through the trouble of cutting up veggie scraps, taking said scraps to the chicken coop in 106 degree temps, and how do they show their aprpeciation? They strut around on top of the veggies, mashing them into the dirt and then take a sh*t right on top. Splat!
I guess that's where the saying, I'm so happy I could sh*t originated.
And then there's the trappings of the digital age. You can't hide anymore. Case in point:
Just after I post a status update, my home phone rings. It's somebody whose voice I'd rather hear on my answering machine than hold a conversation with. So I do what any good socially avoidant personality would do, let the machine pick it up.
But they leave no message. Half a minute later my cell phone rings. I'm all, Day-em, busted 'n sh*t. Because now they know I'm either (a) sitting at my home computer, or (b) posting via my cell phone. But then I think, No. Wait. Don't answer. I'm outside feeding the chickens. I mean, really, who carries their cell phone to feed the chickens?
The upshot is this: In this digital age, it gets to the point where your frenemies think you spend an awful lot of time hanging out at the chicken coop.
m For the final random thought you must go to this NYC street performance art link, Say Something Nice. Take a listen to the woman speaker at 2:26.