A few brief
observations about life and that thing after it.
● Whenever I cut myself I always
grab a stack of stationery and write my signature on as many sheets as I can
before it coagulates because I think that in this era of text messages and
Twitter people still appreciate a desperate, hand-written letter signed in
blood.
● Like many of you I
often ask myself whether I’m taking enough chances in life or if I’m avoiding
risk at all cost. There must be a middle ground between just going with the
flow and the police having to identify your remains by examining dental
records.
● I’ve reached that awkward, uncomfortable age where I’m too old for tequila but I’ve listened to way too much Mexican ranchera music to ever stop thinking that tequila gives me superhero powers.
● I’ve reached that awkward, uncomfortable age where I’m too old for tequila but I’ve listened to way too much Mexican ranchera music to ever stop thinking that tequila gives me superhero powers.
● It’s OK to stay in a cheap hotel* but just don’t die there,
man. If you do then that’s all anyone
will ever remember about you until the end of time. You could invent a cure for
racism but all anyone will say about you after you’re gone is, “Didn’t he croak
in a cheap hotel room?” On the other hand, if you’re in an expensive hotel then,
by all means, go nuts. Attempt a swan dive into the pool from your balcony or
use a hair dryer in the tub; people will say you went out with style.
*Signs that you're in a hotel where you shouldn’t die:
*Signs that you're in a hotel where you shouldn’t die:
1) Kids playing hopscotch on homicide chalk outlines in
parking lot
2) What sounds like amateur version of West Side Story is
really turf war in the street out front between crack ho’s, teenage runaways,
and meth dealers
3) Last occupant used complimentary iron to make grilled
cheese sandwiches
4) No HBO
