We humans have been a lying species ever since the first caveman said ‘just the tip’ with his prehistoric meat spear. And we’ve been telling fibs ever since.

We not only lie to each other, but we also lie to ourselves. It’s a fun way to spice up reality sometimes. Like telling ourselves we’ll only buy one thing at Target, then leaving with a new sweater, a bubble machine, an emotional support Squishmallow — and a lampshade we put on our head to convince ourselves we didn’t buy it (if you can’t see it, it doesn’t exist).

My favorite lie I tell myself is that I’m not procrastinating — pfft, I’m just doing lifey side quests.

I sit on a throne of lies. But we all do. It’s surprisingly comfy; it’s like sitting on an Archie the Axolotl Squishmallow.

What can we say, we just wanted to make life a little more spicy. Like how we tell kids that our ice cream is spicy, so they won’t want any of our caramel chocolate cheesecake dessert.

And here are 17 ludicrous lies that we continually tell ourselves, despite knowing full well that we are indeed…full of crap:

1. I Have to Do This Thing Right Now

Unless it’s CPR, it probably doesn’t need to be done right now. It just doesn’t help future you to put things off, only to realize it at 1 am on a Monday and you need to stay up all night to finish the Quarterly Ninja Report.

A good rule of thumb is if the task takes less than two minutes, do it now; it’ll take more energy using up mind RAM to remember to do it later.

2. There, This Will Fix Everything

Nothing fixes everything.

Not even duct tape or Vapo Rub.

3. Everyone is Judging You

Most people couldn’t give a shit, and the few who do are judgmental fucks, so don’t take their criticisms anyway. Don’t take criticism from someone you wouldn’t take advice from.

In reality, we’re judging ourselves against an imaginary limbo bar.

4. I Can’t Live Without ____

The only things you can’t live without are oxygen, water, and deep-fried carbs. Other than that, you’d be amazed at what we can live without. It would just cause some discomfort.

But spoilers, life is about as comfortable as a cactus dildo sometimes.

5. ‘Just Five More Minutes’

Whether it’s scrolling TikTok or a building female orgasm, it’s never five minutes. Five minutes is like the Spanish phrase ‘mañana’, which means somewhere between tomorrow and never.

This goes double for ‘just one more episode’…mhmm, suddenly it’s 5 am, the birds are starting to sing you the song of their people, and you’re on season 4 of Is It Cake?

6. I’ll Start Exercising Tomorrow

Nope, exercise exists in an odd quantum state — it either happens today, or it doesn’t exist. Tomorrow’s workout is more fictional than a sparkly vampire. We both know tomorrow’s exercise will be the same as today’s: benchpressing a bag of Doritos.

7. Time Heals All Wounds

That’s a fun fortune sound bite or fortune cookie, and it would be awesome if it were true, but so would a unicorn. Time heals fuck all. Having bad memory can heal wounds though, because we forget to remember the ouchy over time.

8. A Burger Is Basically a Salad Sandwich

Mhmm. Tomatoes aren’t vegetables, and iceberg lettuce has about as little nutritional value as licking a rusty hook. Actually less; rust at least has some iron in it.

9. I Don’t Need To Write It Down, I’ll Remember

Then why have people been writing things down since cavemen etched how many water buffalo they killed on cave walls? We don’t remember shit, so get yourself a tablet and chisel.

10. I Don’t Need Help

Ok there, Batman. Even Batman had Alfred. We all need help; we’re just shite at asking for it. One of the greatest skills you can learn is asking for help when you need it.

Also, a butler would be a great help.

11. I’ll Look Like An Idiot If I Admit This Random Thing I Don’t Know

This is one thing I’ve worked on over the last few years. You’d be amazed how many times, when I admit I have no idea what something is, how many other people chime in that they don’t either. None of us know everything. Brains don’t come with that much RAM, and life isn’t long enough to learn it all.

Also, we don’t have that metal dildo we can screw into our heads like in The Matrix where you can learn Kung Fu in twelve seconds.

12. Other People Look More Put Together

You’re only seeing outside them, not at-home them. In reality, most of us look borderline homeless when nobody can see us.

13. I’m Special

Yup, you’re special, I’m special, they’re special. We’re all a bunch of special motherfuckers.

We’re each unique little snowflakes…just like everyone else.

14. This Is Just Who I Am!

We are who we want to be. If you act like a cockwombly douchenozzle, it’s because that’s who you choose to be. It’s not genetic to be a clusterfucky asskonaut.

15. I’m Waiting for the Perfect Moment

Life isn’t a Hallmark movie; there aren’t perfect moments. If people waited for the perfect moment all the time, the human race would cease to exist since nobody is ever ready for parenthood. You can train as hard as you want carrying nine packs of diapers over an eight-foot stretch of floor Lego — you still wouldn’t be ready.

16. I’m Never Drinking (that much) Again

Nice try, that’s sober you talking. Sober you writes checks that your drunk ass can’t cash. And believe you me, that wobbly bitch inside you will be back as soon as she smells that first bowl of margarita.

17. I’m On a Diet

Technically, anyone who eats is on a diet. People who don’t eat are also on a diet. So if you failed at a diet, no, you didn’t — you graduated to a different diet that’s more attuned to your psychological, physiological, and not-stabbing-people-today needs.

There should probably be some lesson here that self-deception is bad. And it probably is. But summabitch, we’ve perfectly fine-tuned our lies to ourselves that at this point, it’s pretty much a hobby. Or sidequest.

Plus, life is meant to be fun and no good story ever started with ‘So, I was having a salad’.

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I don’t know if I’m becoming an idjut, if perimenopause is doing the chicken dance with my cerebrum, or if my brain was permanently set to spin cycle — but I’m brain farting all over the place. I’m becoming the world’s shittiest superhero: Brain Fartacus.

But like most things I experience, if I’m doing it, I’ll bet a bunch of you are too.

So I thought I’d share some of the cerebral queefs I’m having lately…

1. Trying to Scroll on Non-Scrolly Things

Did you know that you can’t tap the page on a printed book to turn the page? Apparently my brain doesn’t because it did that yesterday. A few weeks ago I tried to scroll the screen of my MacBook. MacBooks don’t have touchscreens.

But neither of those is as embarrassing as when I tried to zoom in on a newspaper. It turns out you can’t zoom on a newspaper; instead, you have to put your glasses on. Albeit first you have to find your glasses (*spoilers: they’re on your head).

My brain fartillery was clearly locked and loaded on that one.

2. Forgetting my PIN

I’ve only had the same one for a decade. But in my brain-fartian defense, tap-to-pay has been available for two decades. I’ve apparently tapped my brains out, because when I do need to enter my PIN, my brain buffers.

3. Forgetting My Own Phone Number

When store clerks ask me if I’m a SuperDuperStateTrooper Rewards Member, I’ll automatically say no. Even if I am actually a FineI’llGiveYouMyDamnedDetailsForStupidPoints Reward Member.

Because I know they’ll ask me for my phone number and I’ve blanked on that so hard recently that my mind might as well be a dry-erase board. I can’t seem to remember my own phone number, because my brain bucket is an Etchasketch sitting atop a jackhammer.

4. Forgetting Time

I look down at my phone, I see the numbers that represent where the sun is in the sky, then immediately forget how numbers work and ignore the time entirely.

So I’ll check my phone 3 seconds later, got it.

Wait, nope, check again.

The last time I stare at it until the numbers are burned into my retina for a few minutes.

5. Glaring Typos Whoopsyfucks

I’ll stare at a pending text message I’m about to send for a minute. I’ll check it thrice. But my brain only recognizes a typo a microsecond after I hit send. I even read what was supposed to be ‘genetically altered’ thrice and didn’t realize the phone typed ‘genitally altered’…and now I have some ‘splaining to do.

6. Not So Safe Place

Sometimes I’ll see an object and think, I better put that in X drawer, so I don’t forget where it is. Like it needs its own safe place in my memory. But then my memory glitches and I’ve now forgotten which safe space I put it in.

That is only for important items, of course; I can put a water bottle on my dresser that somehow serves as a reminder for me to change over the laundry — and that my brain remembers.

7. An Automatic and Embarrassing ‘You Too’

Do you remember back in grade school when your brain farted and you said ‘I love you’ to the teacher, then you dug yourself a hole in the sandbox and buried yourself alive? I have those all the time, because my grown-uppy brain didn’t get any less farty.

I can be out at a restaurant, and a waiter will say ‘Enjoy your meal’, my mental sieve will automatically retort, ‘You too’. Derp. Then I’ll build a fort with the seat cushions so they can’t look at me again.

Or if I go to the airport, the staff will say something like ‘Safe travels!’ and I’ll of course say ‘you too’, knowing full well that the only place they’re going is to Shake Shack to gulp down a Shack Stack with fries crinklier than their attitude that some dumb biatch said ‘you too’.

8. Forgetting My Age

I know what decade I’m in, but the final number, who the hell knows. My mind needs to spin a big mental wheel to land on the second number, and that summabitch takes longer than the Big Wheel on The Price is Right (don’t forget to spay and neuter your pets).

I may just need to be forty-something until I turn fifty-something.

9. Forgetting Basic-Bitch Words

I know words. Lots of words. My mouth hole summons sounds and uses them every day. But the brain blackhole sometimes sucks my words into the nethersphere when I need them.

‘Can you pass me the …uh…erhm…whatchamacallit?’

‘Uhhh….you mean the spoon?’

‘Yeah, that spoony mofo’.

But sometimes they won’t know which thingamajig I’m referring to, so now I need to start pantomiming it while I describe it.

‘Can you pass me that…uhh…the helical thing that opens the grown-up grape juice?’

…Then they just look at me like my head is nothing but monkeys playing the cymbals and say ‘Corkscrew, you idiot.’

10. Forgetting Why I Opened My Phone

Often, I open my phone to check a certain app, but my brain has a glitch in the digital mental matrix and forgets which app I wanted. So I check a few of them, mainly to get rid of that tiny little red icon that says I have X notifications. Then ten minutes later, I’ve checked my email, my bank, and watched 12 videos.

The only thing I didn’t do was what I opened my phone for.

It’s like the digital doorway effect, but instead of pondering why you walked into that digital room, you watch a video of a kitty on catnip doing military-grade burpees.

I remember about an hour later that I wanted to check the weather. Ah well, it’s Canada; the weather would’ve changed by now anyway.

11. Errant Hand Behaviour

Sometimes I can blame my hands. Out of nowhere, they’re suddenly taken over by an outside entity; I’m assuming Russian hackers or something. And they don’t hand right. Like when I put the ends of the beans I snapped off in the pan and the bean in the garbage. But great news, beans taste fine even with a slight seasoning of garbage bag.

Worse was the time I brushed my hair with my toothbrush, instead of the intended target: my teeth. Washing the paste out of my hair wasn’t ideal, but it did have a fun tingly sensation; it smelled minty fresh, and I swear it cleared up some dandruff.

12. Putting Things In Weird Places

Sometimes our brains forget where things go, despite having put them in the right place no less than 12,007 times. Like the time we put the remote in the fridge, or the cereal in the fridge and the milk in the cupboard.

I don’t know why this happens to me mainly in the kitchen; there might be some sort of vortex happening between the microwave and the air fryer.

At least I haven’t made this mistake with a tampon.

My brain is full of farts; I’m going flatulently foolish and have become fully fluent in brain flatulese.

I’m not sure what the solution is to brain farts. Do I just live with them? Do I need brain camp? Should I eat less cheese? Hopefully it’s not that last one. But in the meantime, I’ll just laugh at them — which is my strategy for most things in life, and it’s been a pretty bitchin’ strategy for the last four decades.

Until I figure out how to become less mentally gaeous, I’ll keep letting my brain dutch oven itself

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Society has written rules (we call them laws) and unwritten rules that we all abide by. We live in a society; without them we’d be living in Gotham but with no Batmans and only Jokers. It would be a chaotic pandemonium, and we’d re-enact The Purge based on how many people irked us.

But not everyone got the memo on the unwritten rules.

So I thought I’d spell them out in my alphabet soup, and then transcribe them to this page.

Here they are…

1. No Bathroom-Queue Questions

If you’re waiting a long time for someone in the washroom, you do not ask them ‘What’s taking so long?’ We all instinctively know not to do this, possibly because we don’t want to hear the answer. It’s not going to be something interesting like ‘Did you know there’s a portal to FreeMoneyLandia in the swirling toilet bowl water?!’.

It is going to be something gross, like that they’re really spackling the porcelain. Or that they’re building a log cabin and are just finishing the chimney.

2. No Swiping On Phone Photos

When someone hands you their phone, momentarily putting their digital life in your hands, to look at a photo, the unwritten rule is that you do not swipe. Unless they tell you to, and then you only swipe the direction they say. If they say swipe right and you swipe left — off with your head. Or hand. But you lost phone-holding privileges.

This rule is sacrosanct because you never know what you’ll find. It might be something ooh-la-la-y, like some tasteful nudes. It might be something gross, like a poop they took that looked like Abe Lincoln.

3. Exit Before Enter

When getting onto a train or elevator, you let the other people get off first. Otherwise you just turned this into a public-transit gauntlet version of Red Rover.

If you charge, elbows up into the leaving crowd, they’ll assume your psychopathic ass is taking that elevator to the ninth level of hell. To replace Beelzebub.

The rule is ‘Outtie Before Innie’. For example, if two people approach a door at the same time (it happens, it’s damned peopley outside), it is common knowledge that the person leaving goes first. I don’t know why, but don’t ask questions, or you’ll be smited by the door gods.

4. Face the Door

In elevators, we all face the door. Sometimes it’s weird because you’re now staring at the back of someone’s head, but thems’ the rules. We could all face different directions, but that would be elevatorial bedlam; also, we’d look like we’re about to star in a Jamiroquai music video.

The person in the front could turn around and face the person in the back, but again…that’s psychopathic. If you do it, put a Joker-esque smile on your face and do something creepy…like smell them.

If you have a door-facing aversion, you may also pretend to be utterly enamored with the elevator’s buttons. That works because, in an increasingly buttonless world, we all love anything that provides tactiley funsies.

5. Speakerphone Users Are Douchecanoes

We’re sharing a public space, and that space includes audio. You shouldn’t come with a soundtrack. It’s never a cool soundtrack, like the one for the movie Dazed and Confused; it’s always something shitty, like a high-energy audio jumpscare from TikTok. Or anything from the manosphere.

The rule is that none of us use speakerphone. If you do, someone may gently suggest you borrow their earbuds, which they’ve conveniently now placed up your arse.

6. Personal Bubble Rules

We all just seem to know the space. Well, I did after I googled it eons ago. It’s called ‘proxemics,’ and there are rules for how far away your butt is supposed to be from their butt, based on your relationship to that person. But some buttwipes don’t understand this unwritten rule.

There is something extremely unnerving about close talkers. We know they’re in our bubble, and we can feel droplets of their saliva permeating our skin. Double eww.

Even worse than close talkers are close standers. As weird as close talkers are, having someone stand super close and say nothing is weirder. Maybe they’re sniffing your hair, maybe they’re preparing to lick your ear. Who knows, but back the frick up.

7. The Proper Level of Perfume

We know that a perfume or cologne should be a mild scent. Not a cacophonous assault on the senses. If I can smell you before I see you, you didn’t spray cologne on; you marinated in it. If it burns my eyes, I’m going to assume you’re a demon sent to exact revenge on that weird thing I probably did.

8. No Stopping After an Escalator

When you get off an escalator, we all naturally know to keep our arses in gear and keep moving. If not, then you’re about to learn about Newton’s first law of motion.

And you’ll inadvertently create a life-sized game of human dominoes.

9. Single-Item Shoppers Go First

If someone behind you in line has one item, and you have 104, you let them go first. If you don’t, that person will have the time to look at every item you put on the conveyor belt and, rightfully, silently judge you for it.

They’ll watch you put your frozen peas on the conveyor and think ‘Oh, we too good for canned peas huh?’. Chips and no salsa? You savage. Immodium? That one surprised me since you seem like more of a retentive butthole.

10. Societal Slowies Stay Right

Whether walking on a sidewalk, driving a car, or on an escalator — if you’re moseying, meandering, or otherwise perambulating, you stay to the right. The left is for people who need to rush through life like they’re an FBI agent chasing a perp; the ones in an urgent need to get home and do nothing.

If you’re occupying the left lane while moving at the speed of Martha Stewart after smoking weed with Snoop Dogg, you’re about to get a one-finger salute.

11. No Trauma Dumping on Strangers

I know therapy is expensive, but I don’t know you and don’t care what Sandra did to you. In fact, by the end of your dumping, I’ll probably be on Sandra’s side.

Then I’ll reverse-Uno you and trauma dump back.

And it will be weird.

Oh, I’m so sorry that your fourth cousin twice removed had a cancer scare because of that lumpy wart on his back that turned out to be a raisin. That’s crazy.

Lemme show you my crazy…like the time I went on a blind date and ended up chained to some dude’s radiator; luckily, I have bendy hands that slip out of handcuffs. So I tied him up instead and made him listen to my poetry from the third grade while listening to the Baby Shark song. He begged me to kill him. Eventually I did, and that’s where I got this tooth on my necklace from.

Wanna be friends?

12. The 5-Second Door Rule

If someone is approaching a door you just opened, and they’re within a few seconds of reaching it, you heroically hold the door open like you’re single-handedly saving someone’s faith in humanity. If they’re further than that, you abandon them entirely.

The rule is that if someone does this, you speed up your skedaddle, even to an uncomfortably fast pace, like a speedwalker on meth.

*This rule doesn’t apply in Canada, where someone can still be in the parking lot, and we’ll hold the door. We also may hold the door for so many people that they assume we’re a Walmart greeter of that establishment.

13. Don’t Fart in an Elevator

Nobody wants to be hot-boxed with your assy air biscuit. Especially the person coming home after a long day and they live on the 87th floor. Now they have 62 more floors to huff your stank. It’s the unwritten rule that we all hold them until we get into our apartments, at which point they’re released like a King’s trumpets, and the noxious odor makes the dog hide under the couch.

14. Thank Societal Superheroes

Not nurses or teachers (although thank them too, they have to put up with utter shite), I mean the people who restore faith in humanity. Someone returned your phone, held open a door, or gave you a compliment— say thank you. And mean it; don’t just mutter a thank you like you’re a robot who just got off a long shift at the Amazon factory.

And if someone lets you pull out in your car in front of them, or cross the street, you give them the obligatory wave. Ideally with a smile, but at least the wave; otherwise we’ll assume you’re insane.

15. Don’t Touch People

Mainly don’t touch strangers, but maybe your family doesn’t like you that much. Just don’t touch people.

Also, don’t lick them.

Or smell them.

16. Put Your Grocery Cart Away…You Summabitch

Yes, there’s a 15-year-old paid to go fetch the carts like a peasant in your creepy feudal fantasy, but he doesn’t get paid enough to deal with your shit. Also, those carts will create a metal graveyard that makes the rest of us drive like we’re Tokyo drifting through the Walmart parking lot.

We live in a society; we put the carts away; we’re not animals.

17. Don’t Ask A Woman If She’s Pregnant

There’s never a time to ask a woman if she’s preggers. She could look like she’s trying to smuggle the world’s biggest watermelon out of the store…nopeity nope.

She could be crowning right in front of you — still no.

Now you know the rules.

So go be Batman.

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I’m not saying that the world will descend into anarchism and fall into WWIII. But Captain Crazypants is holding the nuclear football, Putin is nutbar factor seven, and NATO spends their days face-palming. The world is weird.

Hopefully we’ll never have World War III — Electric Nukealoo. I like to think it’s unlikely because most of the world is reasonably sane.

But comedy writing requires a few leaps of thinking. So…if a new soldier-needing, draft-causing kerfuffle were to happen, I have some ideas about the people we should draft first…

1. Laundry Timer Needers

Modern washing machines have this annoying waiting period before you can open the lid. You wait for the machine to beep, then you wait approximately 1,071 minutes for the lid to be openable.

I don’t know which adults this was designed for, but I’m guessing there’s some Venn diagram overlap with the Tide pod eaters. If that waiting period is the only thing keeping you from being sucked into a lost-sock black portal to a netherrealm, you’re not going to make it. You might as well blow some shit up first.

2. Open Mouth Chewers

People who chew with their mouths open boggle my brain. Somehow, we can see their gums flapping in the wind, and yet the food doesn’t fall out. These people break the laws of physics to eat, so let’s see what sort of shitdisturbery they could get up to in battle.

3. Aggressive Drivers Who Don’t Use Turn Signals

They’re out there making up the laws of the road as they go. They can’t take a microsecond to use turn signals for things like turning or lane changes. I think these people should be in tanks. On the battlefield. Instead of the rest of us.

4. Never Shutter Uppers

Another group of breakers of the laws of physics, these people can talk for 17 hours straight without taking a breath. Taking a breath would give another person the opportunity to speak. I feel like these people are prime draft candidates for two reasons…

Firstly, since they can hold their breath longer than a Navy SEAL, they’d make great underwater combatants. Plus, we’d save money on having to buy oxygen tanks for our battalion’s dive squadron.

Secondly, they’d also work well on land. We could just point them at the enemy, and they could talk them to death. It would extend the length of any conflict indefinitely, but a win is a win.

5. Spatially Aware-ians

They already walk around like lemmings. They’re going to walk off a cliff at some point, so make yourself useful and provide some cannon fodder.

6. Close Talkers

These are people who stand so close that you can smell what they had for breakfast in the third grade. Close talkers are already all up in your grill; let’s use this skill to spy on the enemy. We’ll use them to figure out what the opposing commander had for breakfast.

7. Urinal Stand Next To You-ers

Basically ditto for the close talker points, but this time instead of aerosolized spit it’s a mist of urine and man-meat lookyloo-ing. We’ll place them in cells with prisoners of war, whose only method of escape from their meat gazing is spilling enemy secrets.

8. Flatulent Non Flushers

There’s a special place in fecal hell reserved for people who don’t flush public toilets. They just leave their bodily evacuations there to marinate. It’s like they want others to see their work, and check out the Jackson Poollock they left in the latrine.

I haven’t figured out what kind of soldiers non-flushers would be yet. But something about landmines.

9. Aisle Blockheads

These are the people who do the rather impressive and precise mental spatial calculations to block an entire aisle on their ownsies. They use calculus and algebra to put their cart at the exact spot in the middle of a grocery aisle that they can cause a Descartian eclipse.

Then they stand there scrolling their phone, while you figure out which item in your cart will make the biggest thunk as it hits them.

We’ll use their math skills for code breaking and they can Rubik’s Cube us out of war.

10. Queue Cutters

People who cut a line have a grandiose sense of self and should be turned into Red Shirts and placed at the front lines. Even if we placed them at the back, they’d just cut in front anyway.

11. Dog Poop Leavers

It’s one of the lesser-known commandments, but thou shalt not commit trespooping on thine neighbors’ lawns. But people are a bunch of shitty sinners and do it anyway.

The ones who pick it up, put it in a bag, and then leave the bag are diabolical and shall be rewarded thusly in the ninth circle of hell. Bagging and leaving it doesn’t make it a gift.

I wish society would allow us to rub the owner’s nose in it. But it doesn’t. So drafted they shall be. They can deposit excrement mines on enemy territory now.

Phew, I needed that. In reality, I don’t want anybody to die in my made-up-for-this-story war. But if anyone has to hypothetically go, society would be better off without the trespooping, queue-cutting, dirty-no-flushing, close-talking, no-turn-signal-using people.

Society would be less chaotic for it.

Also, I’m pretty sure that the douchenozzles and asskonauts starting these wars would be sent to the front lines for doing one, if not all, of the above.

And I’d love to see the Bonespurian Candidate become a Red Shirt.

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Your 20s are for exploring and partying until sunrise (because hangovers aren’t trying to murder you yet); your 30s are for settling into life; your 40s are for dropping useless crapola; and the remaining decades are for sitting on a porch and whittling away your fucks to give.

I’m in my 40s, which means I’m Marie-Kondo-ing the bullshittery from my life.

And here is the bullshizzle that I’m scraping from my life like barnacles on a boat…

Helping you Move

We’re old. We both have bad knees and bad backs, and they will not accept pizza and beer as an apology for the moving-related abuse. You’re old enough to hire a moving company. So just pay some broski with big biceps, a cauliflower ear, and palms made of sandpaper to move your shit.

Sharing a Hotel Room

I need space. I move so much in my sleep you’ll either think I’m possessed, or that I’m pretending I’m a sleeping rotisserie chicken.

Also, we’re at the age where someone is going to do something noisy, like snoring, a sleep apnea machine, farting, etc. So we’re just going to continually wake each other up with our cacophony of sphincter sounds and trips to the bathroom.

So unless it’s a hoetel and we’re about to do the bow-chica-wow-wow clunge plunge, I’m not sharing. Even then, I still might want my own room, because playing stuffin’ the muffin is tiring…and messy.

Elaborate Excuses

I used to make up elaborate excuses to bail. My dog ate a golf ball, I ate too much cheese and can’t fit in a single item of clothing, what have you. Now, I’m just not going.

I’m tired.

You’re tired too (and probably half hoped I’d cancel anyway); you get it.

Going Out After 9 pm

Your event starts at 9 pm? Pfft, I planned to already be in my jammies by then. Unless it’s a private concert for the two of us, by Usher and Channing Tatum, I’m not going out at 9 pm.

Plus, my bra is off. Once the bra is off, we all know that’s the seal of staying-home-ness.

Stylish Shoes

I’m in my comfy era. I’m closer to loafers than heels on the stiletto-to-Crocs footwear continuum. I used to wear heels to make my ass look better, but there’s no helping my rear these days; gravity hath taken effect.

If I can’t wear flip-flops, New Balance 608s, or Cracs (that’s what I call the knockoff Walmart version of Crocs), then I ain’t going.

All Night Sex

I’ll leave the all-night entangling of the lower beards to the youngin’s. They have the energy to do a sexual triathlon. In our 40s and beyond, at least one of us would pull a muscle, the other would need an inhaler (we’re orgasthmatic now) — and we’d both tap out by round three.

Plus, if you did it right the first time and made my clam cramp and made me jizzy dizzy, I’m half dead. And probably sleeping already.

Buffets

While I can still pack away food like a hungry gerbil, I’ll pass on the buffet. I’m officially buffaded. The best foods aren’t cooked in bulk. I’ll order a single, freshly-made meal from a restaurant, instead of having sweaty meat that’s been roasting under a heat lamp, like I did in tanning booths in the late 90s.

Going to Gift-Based Events

Weddings, bridal showers, baby showers, y’all have enough of my money. No more showers for y’all. Although these days it’s more like divorce parties and children’s or grandchildren’s birthdays.

I already gave you a buttload of gifts; I have no desire to continue that tradition with your progeny. You dumping a load in someone shouldn’t be a financial obligation for the rest of us.

(Uncomfortable) Pants

I never understood why most nudists are septogenarians and older. I get it now; I’ve spent far too many years wearing pants. Pfft, friggin pants and their judgemental waistbands. And their tag that rubs me in the area of my back that’s solely reserved for tramp stamps. I’ll pass on the pants if I’m not required to wear them.

Sadly, much of society does require you to wear pants. By law and stuff. The cops are staunch supporters of the Pantalooninati.

Going Out in Bad Weather

I’ve already had 16,000 spins of the Earth and 43 rotations around the sun. So I can assure you that the sun will indeed come out tomorrow. I don’t need to go to your outdoor festival in the rain.

If there’s a snowstorm, I’m not a friggin Yeti; I’ll just stay home. I’m not going to showshoe-it to the store no matter how bad I want a KitKat.

Loud Restaurants

If a restaurant’s music is as loud as the raves I used to go to, I’m not ordering a meal there. I might dance with glowsticks in the aisles though, but you better have someone selling ecstasy tabs by the bathroom (that’s where the dealers were always located, a very convenient strategy). But if I’m there to eat, I want to be able to speak with my friends without using, morse code, sign language or a megaphone.

Ditto for dark restaurants. Again, it’s a restaurant, not a rave. Your lighting isn’t ‘moody’ and high-class; it just looks like you’re cheaping out on the light bill. And you make your servers run through a maze of tables, chairs, people, and feral children in the dark. They should get hazard pay for that.

Buying New Tech

Tech upgrades used to be better. When I moved from my Discman to an iPod, my brain was blown to smithereens. I didn’t have to wear my giant-pocketed JNCO Jeans to carry my music, and I didn’t have to walk like an Egyptian because the anti-skip technology was pretty bullshit.

But now you get twelve cameras on your phone instead of a piddly nine.

The next iPhone release will have the back of the phone entirely covered in cameras. It’ll take pictures in 9K, at a resolution that only falcons can see.

I’m done with this stuff. I’ll leave the nerdgasms to the technophiles, and I’ll keep my iPhone 15 until it shatters beyond human recognition. I’ll stay away from the new gadgets that do things like tell me in the morning that my sleep quality was utter shite. Thanks, watch — me and my one eyelid that is open are aware already.

And I’m definitely not getting those new ‘massagers’ that use the same Dewalt battery as my cordless drill, and have the impact capacity of a jackhammer that could crack the foundation of my house.

Getting older is more fun than I thought. Well, aside from my everything hurting because I did extreme aging sports like sleeping or sneezing. Apart from that, life is getting simpler.

Life is pretty awesome when you streamline the shit out of it.

I assume in my 50s, my tiny pile of dwindled fucks, will be nearly non-existent, and I can cut even more daily fuckery from my life.

By that point, I might be wearing a moo moo, or caftan…with pockets.

Join the Moo Moo Militia, the Caftan Cartel…

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Some days, it feels like adulting is a trap filled with crap. Oh, to be a kid again; carefree exploring, no bills to pay, and eating cheese without exploding. Oh, and knees that don’t snap, crackle, and pop when I move.

We can’t be children again on a permanent basis, because eventually it will be tax season again and we’ll run out of clean clothes. Also, people might think we finally nosedived off the deep end and send us on an all-inclusive trip to the funny farm.

But some activities can transport us into childhood-like wonder for a while…

1. A Sweet-Ass Fort

Maybe it’s a tree fort that you had to tackle your adulthood-induced fear of heights to get into. Maybe it’s a sheet or cushion fort that you made because you just moved into a new house, you ran out of beer, and you made a fort to hide from your wife because she immediately wants to unpack everything down to the forks and throw pillows.

Or my favorite, a cardboard-box fort that you built in the utility closet at work because you simply can’t deal with the Quarterly BlahBlahBullshit report right now. And now it’s your secret new headquarters for your new entrepreneurial one-person corporation of taking feet pics to sell on the internet.

Whatever type of fort you construct, it’s a great way to hide from responsibility for a while. But bring snacks, so adulthood doesn’t find you when you pop out for a Pop-Tart.

2. Baby Babbling Bliss

I don’t know what happens when we talk to babies, but our brains turn to mush, and we start babbling like the babies themselves. I can have a full-on existentialist conversation with my dog, but put a baby in the room and suddenly I’m goo-goo-ga-ga. My dog looks at me like I just burned through my last brain cell.

The exception to the dog rule is if it’s a puppy. Then it’s a dog and a baby, and we turn into a canine-induced brain pile of mush.

3. Bubbles

Anyone who doesn’t turn into a toddler when bubbles magically fly through the air is dead inside. We understand the science of them, well, probably. But we’re still mystically turned into kiddos. We want to have them land on our hands, we want to pop them with our hands (or noses, or whatever), and want to alter their bubblian journey by blowing on them.

And we’re suddenly in a competition to make the biggest bubble to ever bubble.

4. Finding a Cool Stick

Finding a bitchin’ stick while out on a walk is a wonder. It’s now a walking staff, and you’re navigating the woods like a god-damned wizard. Then it’s a wizard staff where you put a spell on your nemesis, which in the adult world is probably some dude named Carl who works in HR.

If your friend also finds a cool stick, it becomes a sword, and you have an epic battle. It goes on until the sticks break, or one of your backs goes out, reminding you that mentally you might be twelve but physically you’re still 52.

5. Finding a Cool Rock

People with a touch of the ‘tism have really co-opted cool rock finding, but I think all of us adults love finding a cool friggin rock. I’ll stare into that purdy rock like Trump stared into the eclipse. If it has a fossil in the rock, I’ll lose my mind and imagine I’m surrounded by dinosaurs.

Rocks are gneiss.

6. Water Balloon Battle Royale

Every parent knows the rule: when filling up water balloons, your kids get 2/3s of the haul, and you keep 1/3 for yourself. You’ll then wait for them to run out of theirs, which takes approximately 127 seconds — even though it took you an hour to fill them. Now you’re questioning your life choices.

But you can snap yourself out of your existential ether by remembering that you have an arsenal of orbs filled with faucet jizz. You’ll then use them strategically, from a covered position, to exact revenge on your kids for the time they told your neighbour that you steal forks from Denny’s.

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7. Bubble Wrap Bewitchment

You know the Pringles slogan, ‘Once you pop, you can’t stop’; I think they stole that from bubble wrap. So head on over to grown-uppy Disney, aka Home Depot, and pick up a 50’ roll for under twenty dollars. Lay that poppy summabitch on the floor, and I dare you not to walk on it. Once you’ve succumbed to the bubbly popping — roll on it.

And if you don’t then turn yourself into a bubble burrito, you’re missing out on life.

8. Remote-Controlled…Well, Anything

Remote-control toys aren’t for kids. Ok fine, they can play with them for a bit. But a guaranteed forget-all-your-worries time is playing with remote-controlled toys. Like putting Tonka trucks and diggers in a sandbox. Add some chairs and a cooler of cold beer around it, and it will babysit any unruly adults in your life for hours.

There’s a restaurant in Dubai with this setup, and it looks like a Saharan wet dream for grown-ups. If you don’t have Dubai Money (spoilers: I don’t have Dubai money), there’s another one in Ohio.

If you don’t have Ohio money…go back to work.

9. Lego my Lego

This one always starts innocently: you’re playing with the kids with Lego. Before you know it, you’ve kicked them out of the room because they were affecting the structural integrity of The Lord of the Rings: Minas Tirith you’re building.

Beware: do not step on the Lego; it will transport you back to shitty adult reality. Then you go from being a Gondorian soldier to someone with laundry to do.

10. Glow Stick Glory

These cheap neon tubes are always a whimsical time. Attach two to a string, and now you have glowing numchucks to whirl around like you’re a night-time neon ninja.

I personally love putting on electronic music and dancing with them. It reminds me of my raving days, which are behind me because they all start after 9 pm. And they’re too loud (…grumblegrumble everything is too loud now). Also, I can’t take ecstasy anymore because it may interact with all the pharmaceuticals in my pillbox.

11. Ball Pit Fuckery

Some germaphobes might cringe at diving face first into a ball pit. But for the rest of us who grew up surrounded by lead and cholera, we’re immune to it.

So hop on in with I-used-to-drink-water-from-a-rusty-hose impunity.

Swim like you’re a ballian Michael Phelps, throw the balls at your friends like they’re human target practice. Have a grand ole time. Or sink to the bottom like you finally found that quicksand that the 90s warned us about.

Balls are fun.

Bazinga.

Voila, you’ve joined the magical world of worry-free-ness, where childlike wonder is on demand.

The best part about activating the sleeper-cell secret agent of whimsy inside of you — is that now you can do it with grown-up money.

…And margaritas.

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There are certain apocalypses that you don’t need a plan for, like a nuclear holocaust, because before you could finish thinking about how many Twinkies you’d need to ride it out, you’d already be dead. Nor do you need a plan for a global infertility wipeout, with it being the funnest of the apocalypses — since the major focus of it would be on boning for humanity (aka Armagedditon).

So let’s focus on the slightly more realistic apocalypses, like zombies, a pathogenic contagion, or grid collapse from a mahoosive solar flare or electromagnetic pulse that sends our infrastructure back to the Stone Age.

The type of bizarramageddon that has us running around in feral factions, fighting for resources. You know, the basic-bitch apocalypses.

My first thought would be that I’d die from something cool, like a zombie bite. Or something basic, like starvation or dehydration. But there are odd ways to die, as apocalypticans, that most of us probably wouldn’t think about…

1. Scurvy

I doubt many of us would think about the swashbuckling side effects of cataclysmic events. But Spam and Twinkies are seriously lacking in vitamin C.

2. Being Late To the Apocalyptic Party

An apocalypse hits, you take some time to regain your composure, find your marbles, and change your pants because you crapped yourself. Now it’s time to head to the local shop for supplies.

“BZZZZZT! ERRRRR!”

Nope, you’re already late to the party. The stores have been looted and raided, and all that’s left are a thimble and a pack of Bazooka gum. Nobody will want you on their end-of-days squad when all you can offer is finger coverage and lockjaw.

3. Suicide (from Boredom)

Honestly, if my wifi goes out, it really fucks up my day because I’d planned to binge-watch the Santa Clarita Diet for three hours.

The other day I ate a pickle and a handful of shredded cheese because I was too lazy to pick what to eat then cook it.

I don’t think I’d make it through Mother Nature’s eviction notice. I may just give a zombie a comehither stare on day one, and call it a day.

4. Being A Bragadocious Douche

You were ready for the apocalypse. You’ve been prepping for years while us plebs were just living our normal lives. But you didn’t toil away all that time and spend all that money for nothing; you can’t wait to brag about how prepared you are.

Now you’ve turned this into a doucheocalypse.

So, we get sick of you being a bragadocious douchecanoe — and we rob you.

5. Natural Disasters

I live in a very boring geological area; the worst natural events we get are snowstorms. But places with tornadoes, earthquakes, flash floods, etc., well, they wouldn’t get their advanced warning system. So while you’re running from zombies and fighting your neighbor for cheese, you could easily be taken out by a typhoon.

6. Exhaustion

I’ve never tried to outrun a zombie, but I’m already tired just thinking about it.

7. Lack of GPS

We thought Google would always be there for us, but they shut down pretty quickly at the end of the world. So when you wander off from your apocalypse squad because you got sick of Bragadocious Bill fighting with No-HOA-Left Karen, you realize you’re lost. You’re stuck in a forest and ‘that tree’ you used as your reference point was a shitty decision because trees look a lot like all the other trees.

8. Snoring Loudly

I’m sorry to tell you, but if you snore, or have sleep apnea, you’re basically a zombie beacon.

9. Electricity Generation

Electricity will be sorely missed. So much so that you may try to figure out how to make your own. It just comes out of the wall after all; how hard can it be? But now you’re being sucked into your makeshift hydrodam after you electrocuted yourself from faulty wiring, while a beaver laughs at you, thinking ‘Harder than it looks, ain’t it?’

10. Skitters

If zombi-ism is transferable by blood, then while we’re huffing and puffing in place after running away from a zombie (or ‘formerly alive person’ aka a ‘FAP’, or whatever woke name we give them), you may get bit by a mosquito.

Bam, you’re a zombie now because you forgot to bring your OFF spray to this global clusterfuck, and a blood-sucking vampire insect turned you into a braindead undeadian.

11. An Apocalyptic Toothache

I’m assuming dentists won’t be doing fillings during a mutagenic plague. But a tooth infection can spread to your jaw, brain, or bloodstream. Then instead of dying from a friendly-fire event as we’d planned, we’re taken out by tooth-related sepsis.

Please, nobody write on my tombstone that I died from brain infection because my tooth was ouchy.

12. Shitty Eyesight

During the artificial intelligence robot uprising, I’m definitely going to break my glasses at some point. Now I’m walking around seeing fuzzy shapes; I bend down to boop the snoot of a cute puppy and realize it’s a bear cub.

13. Death by Papercut

A papercut sounds harmless until you realize you ran out of antibacterial hand sanitizer the last time a zombie grazed your calf. Now you’ve got an infection because you can’t wash your hands 87 times a day like during the last pandemic. And the antibiotics are trapped in the pharmacy behind bulletproof glass.

So now that blister on your foot that you got running away from a snake is infected and there’s nothing you can do. It turns out quicksand isn’t the problem we thought it would be in the 80s; it’s snakes. At least it isn’t worse predators, like dinosaurs. A velocirapture sounds rough.

Anyhoozy, now your foot is infected. And none of us thought that we’d be taken out in an apocalypse by our own shoe.

14. Pooping

Apocalyptic thinking is largely focused on finding water, but how many of us can test that water? So we’d drink something with cholera in it and then shit our brains out. Diarrhea would kill you faster than foraging for the last bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. Even worse, all the Cool Ranches are gone, and it’s only Garlic Shrimp Doritos left.

Much like the Oregon Trail game, now ‘You have died of dysentery’.

Phew, navigating the spicy finality sounds pretty hard. I know, I’m not an apocaloptimist. To be honest, I’d probably just tap out on day three, because I’d already be sick of that apocalypse’s shit. I’d just do a little shimmy (my milkshake brings all the zombs to the yard) in front of one of the undead and become zombified.

Meh, it doesn’t sound so bad.

They seem to have endless energy, and honestly that doesn’t sound that bad these days since I’m Le Tired. They don’t have to go to work and instead get to hang out with their zombie friends. That just sounds like hanging out with my stoner friends from high school.

Now that I think about it, there are a lot of benefits of going Team Zombie. There’s no silly small talk, just vibes. Humans would give me that personal space I’ve always wanted in public. And I wouldn’t even have to put on pants or do my hair — bedhead is fine when you’re a deadhead.

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The year 2026 was long. Well, it is long, since it’s still going on; miraculously we’re only a little over halfway through. So, buckle up, sprinkletits — we have a long way to go.

Amidst the impending clusterfuckery of 2026, we’re still being asked ‘How are you?’ approximately another thousand times. And people don’t seem to like answers like ‘Well, I put my car up on bricks in my yard because the gay of Hormuz is still more puckered than my butthole.’

The standard answers to this question are ‘fine’ and ‘great’. Fine is for when things are shite, and great is for when things are fine. But let’s get creative with our responses, because we need some shits n’ giggles.

Here are some of my contenders for answering the world’s most boring question…

Same Panic, Different Disco

If you’re a millennial like me, this harkens back to a different time, when the rock band Panic! at the Disco was popular. And some of us would like to crawl back into an emo hole where we can be socially alienated misanthropes. But with a bitchin’ soundtrack.

It’s a good answer for this year because we’re panicking at the disco — and everywhere else.

If your crowd wouldn’t get the panicky-discoey reference, you could use ‘Same shit, different shoe’.

My Attorney Advised Me Not to Answer That Question

Ah made-up legal shields. Even if they don’t work, people might think you’re nuts, or liable to do something whackadoodle. And nobody messes with the crazy people <insert evil grin here>. Even the other crazy people leave you alone, either because you’re one of them, or you might be more batshit than they are.

Bury Me in a Fucking Ditch

I like this one because it’s not just a response — it’s instructional.

It also loops them in on your nefarious plans so you’ll find out how good of a friend they are. Are they really in this with you, or were they asking in a perfunctory fashion? A friend who will carry out your ditch-digging will is a ride-or-die bestie.

Compared to Who?

Sometimes you need to answer an I-don’t-really-care question with another question. It’s an Uno-reverse answer that could start a real conversation.

For example: compared to your friend Willy, who is on his fifth divorce and recently got booted from a Margaritaville for being too margarita-fied, well — you’re doing pretty good.

Physically? Mentally? Spiritually? Financially? Sociopathically?

Here is another answer-a-question-with-a-question response. This one allows them to refocus their question on the type of info that would be interesting to them. For example: if they say financially and you say you still have Costco hot dog money, they know you’re not starving.

If they opt for sociopathically, either run, or team up with them to become a supervillain duo.

The Horrors Persist, But So Do I

Persisting horrors might be a new phrase coined by a meme a few years ago, but its old-timey sound makes it feel like you’re being historical for dramatic effect. And it’s just a great way to darkly declare that you’re still not dead yet and still at least half-assing life.

I Have the Vapors

This one combines being historical with getting your Southern on. The original meaning was from doctors of ‘yore’, who thought that bad gasses from the stomach or womb traveled to the head, making you feel faint or out of control. It was later used by fancy old-timey ladies in Victorian England and then the South, to excuse themselves from places they didn’t want to be.

So basically you can Irish-goodbye it with this phrase.

Can’t Complain…I’ve Tried

A ‘can’t complain’ answer lets them know that you have a rant inside you dying to get out. They’ll either let you release the Kraken or listen to you burp out the gases of said festering rant.

I Think I’m Doing OK…Erhm, How Do YOU Think I’m Doing?

Perhaps you’re looking for a little feedback to see if your vision of you is one that others share. But be ready for them to say you’re one more pyjama day away from an all-inclusive trip to the asylum.

If that is their answer, meh; a trip to the grippy-socks facility with its three meals a day and no laundry doesn’t sound that bad right now.

My Psychiatrist Told Me Not To Answer That Question

Ooh, now you have my interest. I will absolutely ask follow-up questions because I want the kind of tea that’s spilled in a therapist’s office. If you’re close to a psychotic break, let me know; I could use a break myself, and we could go twinsies.

I’m a __ Out of 10

I’ve long thought we should have some sort of scoring system to our responses to how are you. Sure you’re great, but is that a six out of ten or an eleven (because you don’t understand how numbers work)?

Maybe you were a nine, but then you caught your belt loop on the kitchen cabinet, and that brought you down to a firkin four.

I’m Sandwiched Between ‘Meh’ and ‘Fuck it’

Alternately, we could use a word-based grading scale. It could go from woo-hoo to Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah to meh to fuck it.

Holy Fuck, You Can See Me?!

Perhaps you’ve already had a psychotic break and are in full-blown superpowers mode. Now this sounds interesting. This is a game I’ll absolutely play with you. Like by pointing out that you’re wearing clothes, which screws with invisibility. If you really want to fly under the radar, you need to be buck-assed naked.

Or at least that’s how I do it.

I’ve never liked the perfunctory nature of the question ‘how are you?’, but I think we have an opportunity to spice that mofo up. So let’s ditch the fines and greats and replace them with the much more intriguing ‘Life is soup and I’m a fork’.

Or just lean in real close and whisper ‘Shhh, it’s a secret’.

Then twitch a little.

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Suspicious, it’s easy to feel but hard to spell. Many of us feel suspishus in our daily lives for no dang good reason. Like when we’re around ‘the fuzz’, or when we’re digging a body-sized hole in the backyard for non-body-sized reasons.

Maybe it’s paranoia leftover from that weedy phase in high school. Maybe it’s just part of human nature to feel splendubious from time to time.

But we feel it.

Hard.

Like we just scarfed down a McSuspicious with cheese for lunch.

There are certain circumstances where we all tend to feel a little ‘sus’ (as the youths say). Particular activities just make us feel circumspicious, especially the following twelve scenarios:

1. Wearing a Hoodie and Sunglasses

Listen, I’m not the Unabomber; I’m just hungover and haven’t washed my hair in three days.

2. Walking Behind Someone

You just happen to be walking the same direction as someone, but now you’re suspiciously close to them. Do you speed up and pass them? Do you slow down and let them escape? No, you just keep the same pace while trying to figure out what an ‘unsuspicious distance’ is.

That or you just lean into the skid and start stalking them.

3. Putting Something in your Purse While at a Store

Maybe it’s your keys, maybe it’s your phone, maybe it’s your kid, and you have a Mary Poppins purse. Whatever you put into a purse or backpack while in a store immediately makes you think you look like you’re shoplifting.

Now you have to make a big huzzah about it, slowly put the phone in your purse, so that other people don’t think you’re stealing it. I recommend incorporating some sort of jazz hands into your performance.

4. Deleting Your Salacious Search History

Listen, sometimes you’re just curious about which poisons don’t leave a trace. Or maybe you just watched a movie where somebody made a homemade bomb, and you’re curious how hard it is. Or you’re a writer and for the plot you need to Google how long bodies take to decompose in different settings.

You feel sketchy as fuck, but it’s just morbid curiosity. Plus, you’re learning science and shit!

Well, that and watching porn and then doing a ‘beat-and-delete’.

But you realize those are weird things to google, so you clear your search history. Problem is, you then wonder if clearing the search history is even more suss than leaving it. An hour later you’re wondering if the FBI agent now watching you has a sense of humor and start googling other weird shit. Like ‘Who would win a fight between a taco and grilled cheese?’ or ‘Can I use my Himalayan salt lamp like a salt lick?’

5. Digging a Large Hole in the Yard

If you dig a big ole hole, you’ll feel like you’re burying a body. Maybe it’s your spouse because they left the dishes next to the sink again, maybe it’s your mother-in-law because she’s…well, mother-in-law-y. Or, most likely, it’s Reba, head of the HOA; your dog bit her and rather than put the dog down like she was threatening, you’re turning her into hosta fertilizer.

You feel so suss about your human-sized hole that you yell out to your neighbor that ‘I’m planting a birch!’ But your voice cracks as you do it and you’re pretty sure that just made things worse.

Then you accidentally leave a little bit of the burlap hanging out after your planting, and you realize that it looks like you indeed just buried a body. Also, your neighbor was 100 feet away when you yelled and may have thought you said that you’re ‘planting a bitch’.

6. Unlocking Your Bike Lock

Your bike lock is an OG and has been with you a while. It has served you like a Centurion soldier, but due to exposure to the elements, it’s a little rusty. So now you’re slightly jiggling the lock to get the key into it. Naturally, you assume strangers must think you’re stealing it.

Or you take a minute to remember the combination to the lock, and now it looks like you’re an expert locksmith thief who is mentally preparing themself to jimmy open the bike’s jaws of life.

Yup, that’s you, the SchwinnStealer3000.

Again, lean into the skid and just resign to your newfound life of low-value crime.

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7. Leaving a Store Empty-Handed

If you walk out of a retail store without buying anything, you’re not a customer —but you may have just accidentally cased the joint. Either you cased the joint, or you just unknowingly, accidentally robbed the place.

Although we’re shitty criminal masterminds since thieves get a high and loot after. The rest of us just get a free dose of paranoia.

It’s a weird type of capitalist anxiety that I know I’m not the only one who experiences. I feel it even though I know that the 19-year-old store clerk named Brayla, who didn’t even look up from her phone since I entered, couldn’t care less. Although I like the Braylas, I enjoy being left alone in stores. And for minimum wage, she doesn’t give a rat’s patootie if you’re planning a heist.

8. Going Into a Store Wearing Clothes From It

If accidentally casing the joint wasn’t bad enough, it’s double-suss if you’re wearing clothes that you bought in that store. You own them, you’re already wearing them, they smell like the pickles you had for lunch, but you still feel like you’re somehow stealing them.

9. Passing ‘The Fuzz’

When you drive around a cop, you feel like you’re committing a crime even if you’re driving the speed limit.

If you dare pass them (because sometimes cops drive awkwardly slow, I’m assuming to make us all feel extra suss), we put our hands at 10 and 2, and avoid eye contact like we’re Extra-Strength-Tylenol-level on the autism scale. All the while muttering ‘Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious’.

10. Returning Items

This one might not be all of us, but I know many people feel weird returning things. I imagine the customer service rep thinking something like, ‘Eerhm…did you do something weird to it?’

No. Well, probably not. But now we feel like we did. Meanwhile, the clerk is eyeing you like we’re returning that shirt after we rubbed our balls on it.

11. Throwing Out a Large Area Rug

The classic movie trope of disposing of a body in a large, rolled-up area rug makes throwing out a big rug an extremely dubious-feeling experience.

What happened to activate the rug death roll? Perhaps it was a one-night stand gone wrong, and now you’ve got your former date rolled up like a human burrito after their shag to die for.

12. Calling in Sick on a Holiday

Fridays account for 20% of the standard Monday-Friday workweek. People do indeed get sick on Fridays, because your kid went to kindergarten all week and licked the jungle gym, which is basically a human petri dish. Ditto for holidays.

But it feels suspicious claiming that you’re sick on those prestigious days off. It’s so suss that you might be better off calling in dead and then have your friends film themselves Weekend-at-Bernie-ing your lifeless body around town all weekend.

I feel like I’ve committed a mental felony doing all of the above, and that’s with pretty decent mental health. I can only imagine how people with social anxiety deal with the suspicialiciousnuss.

But if you feel more suss than a choco-smeared-face toddler proclaiming they didn’t eat the cookies, you’re not alone.

We all feel a little susspishy sometimes.

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I know, saying things everybody agrees on is a bold statement. Especially since I’ve seen people argue over the color of the sky before. I’ve seen people practically get into a fist fight about whether a hot dog is technically a sandwich; nobody cares, just pop that big ole glizzy in your mouth hole.

Online arguing has become not only a competitive sport these days, but also some people’s favorite hobby (or only hobby).

I’ve seen arguments over practically everything. I overheard one about fat people being harder to kidnap. It makes sense; they’re heavier and therefore harder to pick up and run away with. But some may run slower, and can be lured by Taco Bell. For the record, I also can be lured by a Doritos Loco Supreme.

But while we’ll fight over things like ‘Are you naked if you’re wearing socks?’, there are a few things that even our chaotic society full of keyboard warriors and online trolls can agree on…

1. Serving Sizes Are Bullshit

A microwavable bag of popcorn says it contains seven servings. Ah yes, my six friends and I will thoroughly enjoy four kernels of popcorn each. Mhmm, I can finish an entire bag myself before the commercials for the movie finish.

A single pack of ramen is not two servings. I’ll die on this hill.

But I’m on to you, food-marketing hoes; you artificially deflate the serving sizes so that people think they’re eating fewer calories. But I can do basic math. Also, fuck calories.

2. Beef Jerky is a Racket

I get it, beef is expensive. But at the current price of it, it’s like the cows are putting their kids through college. I love a good jerky snack, but paying $14 for a bag of six pieces (that I then need to split with nine friends to afford, turning our friend group into Feral Friend Fight Club) ain’t happening.

3. Air is the Tits

We don’t appreciate air enough, but go without it for a few seconds, and you immediately remember its value. If anyone argues with you about this, put your hand around their throat and say you’ll release it if they tap out and agree with you.

4. Putting Milk in the Cereal Bowl First is Batshit Crazy

If you do this, you’re a psychopath who is clearly trying to bend physics to your will. I appreciate that in 2026 you’re trying to reset the timeline, Butterfly Effect style — but don’t; you could make it worse.

Although I appreciate your confidence in gastronomical mathematics that you know exactly how much cow titty juice you need to cover your Cappy Crunch.

5. Daylight Saving Time is Dumb

We’re not farmers. We know we’re not time travellers. And the time change just messes up our circadian rhythm like it’s doing a drunken chicken dance.

Plus, about 20% of us forget that it happened and then we’re an hour off for all of our activities. Although automatically updating clocks has helped out a lot with this one.

Except all our microwaves are still off. And the clocks in our old school manual cars. Me, I just leave it that way until the next time change because I can’t remember how to change it. The only code my mind remembers is the Konami Code (Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, B, A, (Select), Start.)

Note: the Konami Code doesn’t work on the microwave. Try it, and you’ll blow yourself up.

6. Burpees Are Evil

Everyone hates burpees. It’s the hellish combination of a squat, a plank, a push-up, and a vertical jump — designed to set your lungs on fire. Even the fittest people that I know, the ones who eat a Pilates class for breakfast, hate burpees.

Burpees were designed by Beelzebub himself.

I’d rather speed-chug a slurpee and get the biggest brain freeze of all brain freezicles than do a burpee.

7. Mitochondria Is the Powerhouse of The Cell

We agree on this…even if it’s only because it’s the thing we remember from high school science class and it lives rent-free in our brain’s RAM.

8. Fuck Mosquitos

They suck. Both figuratively and literally. I know, I know, mosquitoes are a vital food source for fish, birds, bats, and frogs, and they pollinate plants, blah blah. We still all wish a pox on their bloodlines. Which are our bloodlines, since they’re teeny tiny vampires.

Those Sir Bites-a-Lots suck the big one.

9. That Ripping a Huge Fart Rips

I’m talking about the kind of flatulence that activates the farticles, and gives you a boost like catching a star in Super Mario.

The type of fart that makes your pants looser.

Even though we all agree that letting those kinds of sphincter supernovas rip feels amazing, we’ve also, for some reason, all collectively agreed (except for like 12 dudes, probably all named Chad) that we won’t do it in front of each other.

10. That Watery Bit in Ketchup Can Fuck Up Your Bun

We have artificial intelligence in the palms of our hands, but apparently haven’t figured out how to get rid of that bit of water that lives at the top of a ketchup or mustard bottle. It soaks into the bun, creating a soggy hot-doggian experience.

It’s ketchup precum.

And it’s just impregnated your bun.

There you have it. So the next time your family starts arguing over something silly, like ‘whether Cheetos are chips’ or ‘how almond milk shouldn’t be allowed to be called milk and should be called nut juice instead’ — break the tension by popping in one of the above.

Who cares about your nut juice nomenclature, let’s just all agree that mustard precum blows.

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It’s too peopley outside. That’s why, thanks to my flexible work-at-home schedule, I strategically go to the grocery store in the morning or early afternoon. It’s when people should be working. But miraculously, the grocery store is still full of meandering humans.

(Shh… ignore the fact that, by that logic, I, too, should be working.)

So despite my best efforts, I still have to deal with other hungry humans while foraging for food. And humans really be humaning hard at the grocery store. It’s like going to the DMV, another place where everyone has to go, so it’s a real smorgasbord of human behavior.

This includes our shitty behavior that defies logic, physics, and common sense. Some people are straight up cray cray at the food emporium (I’m looking at you, people of Walmart), and others are just out to lunch entirely.

In honor of humans humaning badly, here are, in my opinion, eleven of the worst behaviors people do at the brocery store:

1. Ignoring Express Lane Limits

There is a special kind of chaos reserved for people who ignore express-lane limits. They’re the grocery-store equivalent of a Batman villain, because they just want to watch the world burn.

They’re the ones with 87 items in a 12-items-or-less line. They know it, you know it. In a fair world, they would have to reenact Sophie’s Choice when they get to the cashier and pick their 12 favorites.

Pfft, good luck choosing between the Cinnamon Toast Crunch flavored bacon and the Johnsonville Dr Pepper Inspired Smoked Sausage.

Personally, I think we should get to pelt them with their extra items, like it’s a tomato shaming in a public square of yore. But attorneys say this is illegal, or whatever.

2. Delicatessen Delays

There’s something about lines that makes people lose time, and the deli line is no different. Despite waiting in a queue for the one 16-year-old behind the counter to slice some prosciutto, once their turn is up, some people act like they just came out of a trance.

They have no idea what they want to order despite having nine minutes to think about it. Instead, they contemplated the meaning of life, or how bologna should be spelled (my vote is spelling it like pony, so baloney).

3. Stand In Front of Me While I’m Looking

Aisles are first come, first served, and I’ll die on this grocery hill. If I’m standing there for a moment looking at the Terry’s Orange flavored mayo, and you stand right in front of me — I’ll flog you with the asparagus in my cart.

The correct behavior is to stand nearby, uselessly pretending that you’re shopping for something else until the first person skedaddles.

If you absolutely have to, a simple ‘sorry, I just need to scooch in here real quick’ goes a long way. But if you then stand there, navel gazing at the chicken-and-waffle potato chips — I’m going to start throwing frozen french fries at you, you human potato.

4. Talking Loudly on the Phone

If you’re loudly talking on the phone in a store, you better be serving up some serious tea. I want to hear about two neighbors having an affair, and how you watch it through their open window. Or something personally embarrassing, like that your results came back from the clinic and you have sypha-gono-herpatitus.

But if you’re on speakerphone and you’re just having a basic ‘how are you conversation’, I’m going to insert myself and tell them you’re grocery shopping with no pants.

5. Middle of the Aisle Carts

We all have to stop in the grocery store for a moment to fill half our carts with alkaline-infused trace-mineral-loaded water, Spam-flavored macadamia nuts, or whatever weird shit we’re buying. But those of us with brains that operate based on even the thinnest smidgen of logic move off to the side.

But some don’t. Some people park their cart directly in the middle of the aisle, blocking the entire thing. While some may think these people are oblivious, not me; I know that there’s a tiny margin of error to successfully block carts from passing on either side. And these people nail it every single time, while they stare off into the grocery void.

I’ll give them a few moments, then I’ll start singing the Baby Shark song. If that doesn’t disperse them due to its audio-based assault, I’ll push their cart to the side. If I catch them doing it in a second aisle, well, second offences must be punished; so I’ll relocate their cart to grocery Siberia (aka the frozen foods section).

6. Slow Walking Aisle Zombies

The average human walks about 3 miles per hour. These able-bodied grocery store slow walkers walk approximately 4 miles per year. I know it’s a grocery store and we’re busy being dazzled by Selena Gomez Oreos (they’re horchata flavored, so I guess she tastes like horchata), but slow walkers also seem to be the middle-of-the-aisle people.

The complete unawareness of these oblivdiots is actually quite impressive, since people are buzzing by them constantly, reminding them that they’re in public.

7. Leaving Loose Carts in the Parking Lot Wild

The lawlessness of cart abandoners is wild. They seemingly don’t care where they leave their carts. In the middle of the road, wedged between two other cars, or directly behind another car because they think that person hasn’t felt enough rage for that random Tuesday.

I call these people cartholes.

Cartholes inconvenience not just the 14-year-old cart kid who already looks like he’s worked a fortnight in a mine and lost all faith in humanity; they inconvenience all of us. So, school-yard-style, revenge must be exacted. While they’re sitting in their car, probably to inconvenience the person waiting for the spot, pull out the zip ties you keep in your car for this occasion — and tie their errant cart to their passenger side door.

Or if you’re particularly bored and in need of entertainment, push a cart behind their car. They’ll get out and move it, and you stealthily move it back. Continue this for as long as the laughter lasts.

8. Line Cutters

Hell hath a special place for queue cutters. We live in a civilized society; it has rules. Sure, you’re in a hurry, but we’re in a hurry to get home and do nothing too. You’re not special in your nothingery.

9. Close Standers

There are few things creepier in life than feeling the hot breath of the person standing in line behind you. They’re so close that if they popped a woody you’d be legally having intercourse.

Close standers are enough to make us miss Covid times.

Back in those days we had to stay 6 feet/ 2 meters apart. I loved that boner-free buffer zone, and think society should’ve kept it. We also should’ve kept the no handshake thing; it’s not like we need to prove that we have no sword in our medieval hands.

Supermarkets made a handy built-in rule of thumb for this: grocery carts.

We should be grocery-cart distance apart. Adding to that rule: if someone is close enough that you can smell that they had tuna for lunch, we get to use our carts like bumper cars to repel them back.

10. On Their Phone During Checkout-ers

If you can’t put down the phone for the 47 seconds that it takes the cashier to scan your Arby’s Curly-Fry Flavored Vodka and your Campfire Smores flavored ramen, then there’s no hope for you. Unless you’re talking to your doctor, the cops, Obama, or Batman — hang up. Yes, those are my only allowable exceptions.

Last week I saw someone scrolling TikTok while the cashier was trying to ask that techno space cadet questions. They slowed the rest of the line down, and I heard the voice of what could only be a 70-year-old+ man, grittily say ‘Oh for fucks sake’. He said what we were all thinking.

But this person clearly had no sakes, and no fucks.

11. Step Out Of Line to Grab An Item Buttmunches

Once you’re in the line, you’re more committed than an early 1900s sanatorium. The line is like a grocery gang — once you’re in, you’re in. You can only grab what’s nearby, so unless you need gum or a trashy magazine, you’re done shopping.

‘But it’s a long line, I’ll just go grab something quick.’

No, because you’re going to get something from grocery Siberia, and in the meantime the line has moved up, nobody is moving your stuff, and now there’s a space where a line cutter filled. Now everyone in line has one eyeball twitching, and we look like we’re about to start a zombie apocalypse.

And if you’re at the cashier and you say you forgot something and you fuck off for 10 minutes, when you finally return — we’ll use the nearby trashy magazines to flog you with. And I assure you that being flogged with Angelina Jolie’s face isn’t as fun as it sounds.

Anyhoozy, don’t be a shelf eclipse, a cart island, or an aisle a-hole. Let’s all keep our wits and senses about us as we forage for foliage and graze for Mountain Dew Doritos and fried chicken ice cream.

By the way, the weird food items I mentioned above are all real; reality is stranger than foody fiction.

Come to the Dark Side…

Join my merry band of Wilding Out Weirdos. Don’t be scared, we only bite on Tuesdays.

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While winning the lottery so you can buy a really ugly boat to park in the rich people marina, along with a captain’s hat with those two beer can holders and straws on it, would be an awesome feeling — many of the greatest joys in life are the simple ones.

Although the boat thing is pretty good.

My parents did that.

When I was little, before they lost everything in a real estate crash, they bought a big ole houseboat they bought with some friends. It wasn’t new or fancy, but it was some of the best times of my life. I loved it. The yacht-nozzles in the marina did not. My parents, who never back down from a challenge, painted big ole flamingos on the sides of it.

That wasn’t enough though, so they painted top hats and monocles on the flamingos.

My parents are phenomenal (and probably explain why I am the way that I am).

But for those of us without top-hatted flamingo boat money, we can make ourselves proposterously happy with the simple joys of life…

1. A Pull-Through Parking Spot

Oh, the sheer joy of a pull-through parking spot. It’s like the parking gods smiled on you, called ahead, and reserved it specifically for your Corolla.

Pulling through is the parking equivalent of not pulling out.

2. Folding the Perfect Laundry Stack

I’ve been folding laundry for over 30 years now and still haven’t figured out how to fold everything exactly the same every time. It’s quite mind-boggling to me that the stack of laundry never looks like the perfect starting Jenga lineup. It looks more like the second-last move in a game of Jenga, and my laundry is about to collapse on itself like a laundryian celestial supernova.

My leaning tower of laundry makes me giggle every time.

This will remain a great joy until somebody builds a clothes dryer where the clothes come out folded. How did we put a man on the moon almost 60 years ago, have a computer in our palm, and AI that can do everything for us — and still no self-folding laundry apparatus?

3. Pooping

I’m talking about a particularly good poop. The kind that makes your pants fit better. The kind that makes you feel lighter on your feet. The type of crap that cleared out the fart tunnel for a few days.

4. Knowing What You’re Having for Dinner

The daily struggle of figuring out what to shove in your pie hole to avoid dying is possibly the biggest, ongoing battle of adulting. But those days where you already know what you’re having for dinner — ooph, adultian perfection.

Maybe your partner picked, maybe your phone automatically and accidentally ordered Uber Eats, maybe you have that big wheel from The Price is Right and each box is a meal commandment. However you do it, it’s a grownuppian win right there.

5. Firefly Raves

There’s nothing more zen-inducing than watching fireflies put on nature’s light show for you. It’s a silent rave right there on your porch. Spotting some of those bioluminescent buddies could put a smile on the most crotchety of faces.

6. Baby Laughter

Hearing a baby laugh is nature’s Lexapro.

That sweet little maniacal cackle can instantly brighten your day. The work behind making and keeping a baby is too much for my arse though, so instead of making, borrowing or stealing one — I just look on TikTok for animals making babies laugh. I highly recommend getting this in your algorithm, because it’ll make you happier than a tornado in a trailer park.

7. Book Shopping

Will we likely just add them to the pile of 47 other books we bought and totally plan on reading even though it’s been a year? Yes, but pfft — mind yo business, book stores are just literate dopamine.

8. Your Favorite Song Coming on the Radio

Could I just stream it on one of the endless music apps I have on my phone? Yes, but it hits different when it just randomly plays on the radio. It’s like the radio-ian gods are playing it just for you. Even better is that there are tens of thousands out there rocking out with you, in a psychic musical bond.

9. Finding Money

The move to digital money has robbed us of one of the great pleasures of life, finding money. Maybe you found money in a pocket, maybe in the laundry machine; either way it’s a major dopamine win. We know that it’s our money, in theory; but when you find it, it’s not — it’s free money.

10. Waking Up With No Alarm

There’s a special place in hell for whoever thought to create a digital version of a rooster to wake us up in the morning with an ‘Aeehhh, aeehh’ sound. But props to the person who created the snooze button.

Waking up to an alarm sucks. But when you get to let yourself wake up naturally, when your brain intended? Super win.

11. Babies Falling On Their Butts

Is it mean to watch a baby walk like someone who just did nine shots of tequila, and hope they fall on their butts? Yes, but it’s a natural human instinct. It’s just too cute to pass up watching them fall on their Pamper’d patootie.

Have I slightly nudged a baby to fall over?

I mean…yeah.

My apologies to my nephews, but them falling on their Huggies-wrapped butt was too big of a temptation. I’m glad they don’t read my stuff, and will never know. And I’m especially thankful since, despite being only 12 and 14, they’re both bigger than me and could kick my ass (but I could just hide behind grandma, who they’re still afraid of).

12. That Freshly Baked Smell

It doesn’t even matter what was baked. Anything, cookies, bread. It all smells like heaven. You could cook a cinnamon-coated tire, and it’ll give you an instant smellgasm.

It’s the culinary equivalent of that new car smell.

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13. New Socks

Old socks just don’t sock as well as new socks sock. While a nicely worn-in pair can be nice, that feeling of putting on a fresh pair is a premier adulting experience. That fresh supportive cushioning is unparalleled. Putting on a new pair of toe tubes is a real footgasm.

14. Car Window Dogs

When you see a car on the road with a dog with its head out the window, that’s a win for the day. Watching those big ole gums flap in the wind while it tries to eat air is a free serotonin boost every time.

15. Matching Laundry Socks

They all match, every single one of them. It’s a modern laundry miracle when it happens. Plus, it means we beat the laundry sock monster who wasn’t able to suck our single sock into a black hole of hosiery.

16. A Compliment From a Stranger

I could live for months solely off the compliment from a stranger. A young lady complimented my dress a couple months ago while I was in Walmart; I was grinning ear-to-ear for a week. The only way that moment could live rent-free in my head any longer is if it had pockets, so I could’ve shoved my meat paws into them, twirled, and exclaimed ‘and it has pockets!’

17. Clean Sheets

Slipping into freshly washed sheets is the best night of the week. Could we do it every night? Technically, yes, but putting on a fitted sheet is exhausting. And you have to put them on straight from the dryer so that you don’t lose your mind trying to fold them, which is akin to folding origami into a fire-breathing dragon.

18. A Warm Towel

Warming a towel isn’t difficult; simply throw it on spin cycle for a few minutes, or wet it and nuke that fluffy summabitch with electromagnetic radiation. But most of us don’t do it.

We wait until we encounter a warm towel out in the wild. On the happy end of that spectrum, you’ll get one during a luxurious spa experience; on the crappy end, you’ll get one in a hospital.

Microwaving a towel definitely sounds like an easier way to warm luxury than getting stabbed.

When you take a moment to recognize the joy in the small things, you’ve learned how to live well.

There are a lot of things that we can’t afford, and other things that we have no control over in life — but relishing a roll in a fresh set of clean sheets (especially with freshly-shaven legs, men, you really should try this) is a simple joy that’s free and on-demand.

Come to the Dark Side…

Join my merry band of Wilding Out Weirdos. Don’t be scared, we only bite on Tuesdays.

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Some days don’t just get on your last nerve; they set it on fire, then put it out by doing a flamenco dance on top of it. An otherwise normal day can be set ablaze by a series of unfortunate events that by themselves would be nothing — but in a series, bring you to your breaking point.

Like someone ate your last Oreo. Or they breathed loudly…or at all.

Even the coolest cucumbers amongst us have those days, where the shit hitteth the fan, and we lose our friggin marbles. Our reactions are unhinged, but also simultaneously warranted. As is the accompanying micro freak out.

Here is a list of things that I think, in some series of succession, can break even the strongest amongst us:

Netflix Logged You Out

It happens; technology fails to technologize, and you’re logged out of something you’ve been using daily for 576 consecutive days. Not a big deal, but there’s also a hair tickling the back of your neck, and now you’re begrudgingly entering the Netflix login on your TV, using the remote and keyboard.

Of course, you mess up the second letter of your email address and have to start again.

The rage builds.

Now your password is incorrect. That’s the last straw. You curse the Netflixian gods for the pestilence they’ve now plagued you with.

So you start revenge-streaming things on Hulu instead.

You Caught Your Pocket on a Door Handle

I know just reading that sent you into a daymare (that’s a waking nightmare) about the last time this happened to you. You caught your shirt pocket on a kitchen door handle and got jerked back as you tried to mosey on with your day.

This should be nothing, but you just spent 20 minutes fixing the vacuum and you’re already mildly annoyed. In your current state, you proclaim that the door handle just bit you, in a declaration of war. The shirt is in cahoots with it, and must be punished. You take it off, stomp on its limp corpse on the floor and throw it in the garbage bin with a Daniel-Day-Lewis-calibre performance.

Door handle, you’ve been warned. You’re next.

You Drop Something and Can’t Pick It Up

You drop your keys. It’s fine, we’re a droppy species. Like every other day, you bend down to pick it up, immediately feeling your back protesting. It’s fine, back; it will only be a moment. But your dumb hands miss picking the thing up. Once, twice, thrice.

Guess what keys — you live there now.

The Paper Towel Ripped Wrong

Instead of ripping on the perforated line, it ripped halfway through another paper towel. Summabitch, perforation — you had one job.

This type of treachery clearly can’t go unpunished, so you give the paper towel a hearty yank and pull off a strip long enough to soak up the blood of your enemies.

Unfortunately, we can’t be wasting paper towel in this economy, so you shove the limp bodies of the kitchen tickets around the holder, as a reminder of what it did.

The Printer Jammed

Whenever you’re in a hurry to print something, the printer will jam. Or it’ll run out of magenta (even though you’re printing in black and white). Or it prints a smeared page that looks like it’s giving you the middle finger. Spoilers: it is indeed giving you the technological bird.

Your problem was that you were in a hurry; printers can smell fear and timelines.

Guess what printer, you’re dead to me. I resisted going paperless, but the gauntlet has been thrown. So now I have to take you out back and reenact that scene from Office Space.

You Can Feel Your Clothing Tag

Clothing tags are innocuous pieces of fabric that just hang out in the background, completely unnoticed. That is until you’re having a shite day; that’s when they decide they’re tired of being unnoticed and launch a full-on attack. Their mission: rub you raw.

Naturally, in frustration, you strip down in your kitchen (your family thinks you’re nuts at this point) and cut the tag out. There, problem solved. But then the cut-off tag keeps limping along in its war, like the ‘tis but a scratch’ knight from Monty Python, and keeps scratching you like a feral cat.

By this point, you’re sitting on the kitchen floor, naked, crying, and knuckle deep in a pint of Rocky Road ice cream.

An Errant Bra Strap

Bra straps have a hard job. They have to hold your mashed-in jubblies up to present them to the world. And those things can weigh a few pounds. Despite the physics fact that a few pounds of weight should help hold them down, one of their favorite activities is joining the tag resistance and fucking up your day.

If you’re home, you pull it off and then slingshot it as far as you can get it.

But it generally only turns into a bra strapian bitch in public. Either you take it off, shove it in your purse and go tits-out to the world — or you whisper death threats at it until everyone around you starts giving you looks like you need a swishy vacation at the sanatorium.

Some days are happy-go-lucky like you’re a Disney princess with mouse minions and bird bards singing you fairy tale rhymes. Other days are unhappy-go-fuckery, and shit just piles on you like you’re a Taco Bell toilet.

For the days that are the latter, just know that just like Beefy 5-Layer Burrito — this too shall pass. And until it does, going knuckle deep in floor ice cream is a perfectly acceptable reaction sometimes.

Come to the Dark Side…

Join my merry band of Wilding Out Weirdos. Don’t be scared, we only bite on Tuesdays.

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If you zoom out on the collective behaviors of humanity and pretend you’re an outsider looking in — we are…well, weird. We’re at the top of the evolutionary food chain, but some of the things we do are truly mind-boggling.

We’ve sent humans to space, but we tie little nooses around our necks to look fancy. We’ve doubled our life expectancy with modern plumbing and medicine, but people die every year from tilting vending machines. We have access to all of human intelligence across all of time and space, but we also eat laundry pods because people on the smart brick in our hands told us to.

Meh, what can I say — we’re a complicated species.

So I thought I’d put together a list of some of the things that we do that have zero logic attached to them:

Playing Dress Up

None of us sit at home in a tuxedo or ball gown (but if you do, kudos on being awesome even if uncomfortable), yet when we go out we just pretend that’s how we look. When we go to work, we dress up so that other people, who are also playing dress up, will take us seriously.

Many of us dislike dressing up, so much so that we’ve defined the term ‘business casual’, where we dress up as better-dressed versions of our slobby selves. If we’re not going to be comfortable, why not just have weird dress-up traditions, like going to work in a tutu and a snorkel?

Fighting Over a Judgmental Dude on a Cloud

To me, one of the weirdest things we do is separate ourselves into weird cliques, following outdated books, written by infallible humans. Then we argue over who’s imaginary best friend is cooler.

Try to Run on Vibes and Wonder Why We’re Tired

We stay up late because we’re trying to scroll to the end of TikTok, after a day where we ate a burrito, three grapes, and a bathtub-size amount of energy drinks. The next day we wonder why we’re tired.

Then we lather, rinse, and repeat that process. Apparently, we learn nothing.

Parking Wars

Able-bodied humans will waste approximately four minutes looking for a parking spot closest to the door of where we’re going, often looping around in hopes that one car will have been sucked into hell and freed up that space. When picking a further spot and walking would’ve taken a minute and a half.

It’s funniest when we do that going to a mall we’re going to walk around. Or the gym.

Shave, Then Clothe

We’ll shave our heads, legs, armpits, faces, and backs. Then cover it up with a hat or sweater because we’re cold.

Sucking Face to Show Affection

Hi, I really like you, and I’ll prove it by licking your face hole that you shovel food into. I like the words that you form with your tongue, so let’s mash them together and exchange saliva.

And this isn’t even the weirdest place we put our mouths on to show someone we like them.

Drinking Milk

Breastfeeding is natural, but some of us never get off the teat. Instead, we move to the teat of another animal. It’s possible that aliens came here, saw us enjoying drinking milk from a cow’s teat, and decided not to talk to us.

(Also, the person to discover cow milk, well…)

We like milk so much that we’ll eat the congealed version of it that’s gone a little bit rotten and smells like dirty feet. And we pay good money for that experience. The more it smells like an armpit, the more we’ll pay.

Then, if we milkaholics realize how weird that is, we try to recreate that experience with non-dairy ‘milk’. We’ve then switched from the teat to nut juice.

Commuting to Remote Work

We worked alone for much of human existence, hunting and gathering and all that. Then we started to industrialize, and we all worked communally in one space, so that we could create more together shhtuff than we could by ourselves. Then we figured out how to create together from the comfort of our own homes — thank you, modern internet.

But now, they’re telling people to come back into the office, so that you can sit in a tiny cube-walled fort and join your coworkers on Zoom for meetings.

And you have to put pants on for this.

HR is a real stickler about the pants thing.

Candles

We’re afraid of fire, which is logical because it can kill us. But then we think it’s romantic and a vibe to set tiny fires around our house. Fairly illogical, even if it does smell like a lilac’s asshole.

Lawns

The concept of lawns is weird. We pick the particular type of grass that our eyeballs like, then we spend time watering it and fertilizing it and mowing it. In fact, roughly every week, we’ll mow it to a specific height that we deem correct, and yell at other people if their green stuff is higher than we think it should be.

We love grass so much we’ll scream at people to not touch it.

And we can’t even eat it.

Or smoke it.

Decorating Tree Corpses

Christmas is a weird holiday. We lie to children about a magical fat man breaking into their home in the middle of the night, to leave gifts that we in fact bought for them. Instead, we tell them that this home intruder had his enslaved minions make them.

And he’ll leave them under the corpse of a dying tree that we brought indoors and decorated with shiny things. We illuminate it with tiny lights so we can better watch it die.

Show Love Through Dying Flowers

I never understood why cut flowers were the ultimate gift. Why not a potted plant? It’s less temporary. Unless you have a brown thumb like I do, and then they both last about the same amount of time.

But why is it considered thoughtful or romantic to pay someone to slay beautiful flowers in your honor, so that you can watch them die?

Expressing Emotion by Leaking

We already nailed the expressing emotions thing with facial expressions and words. Ok, not all of us have nailed the words thing. So we really didn’t need to add to this process by having our eye holes leak a salty fluid to show that we’re sad.

Or happy.

It isn’t always clear what our leaky vision ports are trying to accomplish.

It’s a little weird that we do all of the above and yet we’re the pinnacle of evolution on Earth. But I guess every species has its quirks. Wombats poop in cubes, octopuses sometimes punch fish to take the edge off, and manatees hold in their farts for added buoyancy.

But they don’t have to put on pants or use Zoom.

Come to the Dark Side…

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Ah, technology, the thing that was supposed to make our lives easier. Well, right up until we’re getting text messages that our fridge is too cold, our Roomba is trapped under the dog (again), and our vibrator has been hacked by Russians.

Some modern technology is amazeballs, like MRI scans and clean energy. I also love how AI can give me a recipe without telling me the chef’s life story first or how they first fell in love with rutabagas.

But much of it is pointless and only complicating our lives when its predecessor worked just fine. And here are 10 examples:

1. Escalators

Stairs work great. Elevators are awesome. Escalators are dumb.

They’re moving stairs that look like a mobile jigsaw puzzle that you have to double-dutch yourself onto. They then move up slowly, giving you enough time to chug back a Pinky Berry juice and give a royal wave to the peasants below.

Well, right up until they break down, because escalators are about as reliable as your cousin Jimmy. They break quicker than an iPhone screen. Assumedly to keep the escalator-repair union in business.

2. Travelators

It’s an escalator, but flat. Wonderfuckingful.

Decades ago, the escalator repair cartel must’ve joined forces with escalator salesmen. There was extra product that nobody wanted, so they decided to sell people on travelators. Their pitch wasn’t great: ‘Do you want to move a little faster for approximately 50 feet at a time?’ So they had their repair-men thugs muscle their way in. That’s the only explanation I can think of as to why these exist.

3. The Salad Fork

We didn’t need a slightly smaller fork.

It’s just a fork that doesn’t fork as forkily as other forks fork.

Oh, and it confuses our peasant asses about which one we should be using to scoop up our Grey Poupon.

4. Revolving Doors

Doors have been working fine since they put the first one on a cave dwelling. Open door, walk through, boom — you’re done. But we had to make it technoswishy by making it revolve instead. Now, you have to double-dutch your way in, but the timing of approximately half the population is off.

Once you’re in, you’re stuck in a tiny fish tank, on a moving platform, while strangers behind you push you ahead (at a different momentum than you’re going). Meanwhile you’re in nut-to-butt formation with a stranger who has smushed your face against the glass.

5. Car Alarms

Have car alarms ever actually stopped a car from being stolen? I don’t think they have, or at least not often. Their main job seems to be being annoying, with their wee-woo-wee-woo-nee-naw-nee-naw-whoop-whoop-whop.

The thing is, you know who knows how to avoid and/or stop an annoying car alarm? Thieves. The people who don’t are the innocent-but-annoyed people who have to listen to them. And based on how long they squawk for, the other person who doesn’t know how to stop them is the owners of the cars.

6. Auto-Dispensing Soap Containers

The basic concept of this is flawed; they want to keep you from touching a dirty surface even though you’re about to wash your hands. But fine, we don’t get our hands slightly dirtier before cleaning them, cool.

Well, it would be if the things ever worked right. You have a 50% chance of it not recognizing your hands. Perhaps your hands don’t look handy enough; perhaps there’s a ghost behind you also trying to use the machine. Who knows; but now you’re pretending you’re Harry Potter waving a wand, trying to Avada Kedavra the machine to life.

I just wanted to wash my hands, not turn into a bathroom mime.

7. Fast Food Touchscreen Order Kiosks

I never thought I’d miss having my order screwed up by an attitude-laden pimply-faced teenager who rolls their eyes at me ordering a Happy Meal. Sigh, now, the memory of that makes me nostalgic.

Now we have to use a touchscreen supercomputer to order a Big Mac. If there’s any time I want a touch-free experience, it’s not for the bathroom soap dispenser; it’s at McDicks. I’m about to eat my handheld fast food; I don’t want to touch the same screen that some kid just did after he fondled the balls in the McPlayPlace, then picked his nose (or worse).

Germs aside, you then have to sort through their digital menus to find what you want, while people behind you judge you for being a luddite. I don’t want to sort through a McLabyrinthine just to order a fistful of chicken nuggies.

If you don’t want to touch boogers and balls or figure out their digital maze complete with answering ‘these riddles three’, you can use their app. Now I have to download an app and do the same thing on my phone.

You know what was easier? Just telling the person there what you want to shove in your McPieHole.

8. Touchscreen Vehicle Controls

My kingdom for tactile knobs. But now in cars we have screens more complicated than the McPlagueScreen above. So we’re supposed to stare at a screen, sorting through menus, just to figure out how to activate hands-free calling.

All the while we’re supposed to be paying attention to the road, but instead just ran over a pedestrian who was walking while staring at their own screen.

9. The ‘I’m 18+’ Pop-Up on Porn Sites

Ah, the internet porn age verification pop-up, the biggest farce on the internet. You definitely have to be 18 to enter. Or know how to click a button. At this point they might as well have some fun with it and change it to ‘I’m definitely, totally, like for sure 18+’ along with a winky face on the button.

10. The Internet of Shtuff

Almost everything these days is Bluetooth-enabled, Wi-Fi-connected, and AI-empowered. Great, I always wanted a toaster that needs a satellite connection to burn my bread. But none of it seems very helpful. It’s awesome that fridges can now text you and tell you that the door is ajar; but what would be more helpful…is if it closed the door and kept its trap shut about it.

Now half of kitchen appliances have touchscreens, which could work great except for the fact that when you’re working in the kitchen, your hands are either wet or caked in cake batter.

It’s not just the touchscreens either; you go to use the AI air fryer, but you can’t because it needs to install an update first. Since when did air-frying crap need an update? It’s either airily fried, or it’s not.

When you finally prepare your food, you can eat it with an electronic fork that buzzes to tell you that you’re eating too fast. Pipe down, you judgmental prick, before I stick us both in a wall socket.

Even sneakers have Bluetooth now. Like the Nike Adapt BB, which can bluetoothedly adjust the fit of them. You know, like laces do. But now you can open an app on your phone and wait for the internal motor to get to tightening them. Ah yes, much easier. Well, until it gets hacked, then you’re trapped in shoes trying to suffocate your feet like footy quicksand.

While I click and swipe through modern technological dystopia, I miss the hopeful techno-future from The Jetsons (thanks for reminding me of their gentler future). Its visions of robot maids and magical food generator machines would’ve made our lives easier. Instead of having app-powered fish tanks that can be hacked to steal from casinos.

The world is weird now.

But hey, at least we have automatic password managers so that I don’t have to remember that I changed my password from PasswordShmashword to IalreadyforgotThisPasswordFFS.

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Sometimes in life we just need a little fanciful dreaming. Little in-your-head-daydreaming-like-a-crazy-person fantasies to help us get through the hard days. Plus, it’s one of the few things in life that hasn’t been hit by inflation, and it’s still free.

Finished your taxes? Do a little mental reverie about winning the lottery (which here in Canada is a tax-free affair). Just conquered the fabled laundry mountain that is said to be unconquerable? You deserve a treat; envision getting your own Rosy the Robot so you can relax with a margarita.

Or fold socks, because I know you didn’t actually finish all the laundry and Rosy is now busy cleaning the oven — something you’ve been putting off because putting your head in the oven would be tempting fate.

I thought I’d put together a list of fantasy-yet-quasi-realistic things to ponder; a list of things that I think almost every adult wants:

1. Dinner Done Did

Deciding what to have for dinner is the bane of my existence. Every day I look into the fridge, expecting the random ingredients to whisper to me like a Disney Princess what they’re going to come to life and cook themselves into.

And every day I’m disappointed. I do a few laps, eating a grape or piece of cheese each time, until I finally decide what things to mash together into some form of edible-adjacent-ness.

We just want a magic dinner fairy who bibbidi-bobbidi decides dinner for us.

2. Upcoming Expense Notifications

Life has a way of throwing extra expenses at you, like it’s a sly pitcher throwing an expensive curveball. Sometimes it’s simple, like all your condiments run out at once; sometimes it’s bigger, like a sinkhole manifests under your house.

I can’t wait for the day when AI can tell us, ‘Hey, some asshat is going to crash into your Mazda next month’ or ‘Your dog is going to eat a porcupine three weeks from Thursday’. Then we can plan accordingly. Or keep the dog away from that stab-rabbit named Sir Pricks-a-lot.

3. A Smoke Detector That Only Catches Fires

We have computers in the palms of our hands, AI that can do a thousand things for us, gene-editing therapies, and other modern marvels. Can we get a smoke detector that doesn’t go off if I make fajitas? I want one that doesn’t give the whole neighbourhood a heads up that I cajun’d the chicken that I was reheating in the oven.

Fire detector. We need an actual fire detector.

4. An Unknown Caller Robot

We all get that dreaded ‘unknown caller’, sometimes with the label ‘might be spam’. It’s an artificial intelligence bot calling us to fuck with us. Well, we need our own AI bots to answer these calls, putting them into an AI death spiral that rips a hole into the artificially-stupid-space-time continuum.

5. A Laundry Fairy

Our laundry piles mock us. They laugh at us in laundranese, knowing that they’ve cracked physics and can open a portal to our dresser and siphon clothes back into them just when they’re near empty. Well, we want to be laundry laughing stocks no more; we want a launderette fairy that magically does it as we sleep.

A dirty-clothing Roomba would also be acceptable (and makes sense since I have dirty clothes strewn on the floor sometimes).

6. A Mute Button for Life

Life is too loud sometimes. Well, a lot of the time (specially since peopley = loud). So we need a mute button for life, just like we have for the TV.

Did some assholianeighbour leave their car alarm going wee-woo-wee-woo-nee-naw-nee-naw-whoop-whoop-whop for hours? Mute. Your other neighbour decided he needed to use his leaf blower for four hours on a Saturday morning (even though he has no trees)? Mute.

We absodiddlylutely, posifuckingtively need a silence button for people talking on speakerphone in public. Mutey mute mute.

Oh, and one for those bosses who drone on at you about the quarterly Pickles Report (or whatever corporations do) and sound all ‘wap wap’ like that teacher from Charlie Brown. Silencio, Señor Cornholio.

7. A Night’s Sleep To Feel Fulfilling

When we finally get eight hours of sleep, it should feel like eight hours, dammit. That’s plenty of time spent comatose-ly recharging, but we wake up feeling like our batteries were zapped. I don’t know what sort of demons we’re fighting in our sleep, but we want to sleep like a teenager.

Not a baby; those infernal things wake up every few hours screaming (and we do that already). We want to sleep like a teenager where we pass out in a dark cave, sleeping as long as humanly possible, then have the ability to pull two consecutive all-nighters for no reason.

8. A Pause Button on Life

Wouldn’t life be grand if we had a pause button? We could pause if things got too wacky, or peopley. We could pause if someone says something devastating and we want time to think of the comeback that we just know we’ll come up with three hours later while washing our butt in the shower.

9. The Option to Call In ‘Not Sick’

Am I sick? No, I’m feeling stupendous today. Nothing hurts, I’m smiley, the sun is shining. So I don’t want to waste that at work. Sick days are wasted on the sick; we need those days off to go pet puppies in the park.

10. A Weather Forecast That Just Tells Us What to Wear

There’s the real temperature. Then, here in Canada at least, there’s the ‘feels like’ temperature. No shit, we all measure temperature in what it feels like. Then there’s wind chills, cloud cover, your proximity to water, altitude, attitude, astrology, astronomy.

I’m a normie, not a scientist, dammit. Just tell me what to wear.

We need a weather bestie that tells us what we need to wear. We need an emotional support weather forecast.

11. Fart-Free Fav Foods

There is a quasi-scientific correlation between how much you like a food and how much it will turn you into the Goodyear Blimp. We love cheese, but it turns us into a human that could power a wind turbine. Carrots and spinach don’t turn us into a gas cloud, because the food gods are cruel sons-o-bitches.

12. A Skip-Intro Button for Banal Convos

Netflix and other streaming services have a convenient skip intro button, even though it’s too late for us who already know the tune to the Law & Order theme song and the entire rap for The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air (me, that song is burned into my psyche). Well, we need one for introconversations.

You know the ones: ‘how are you, great, how are the kids, great, how’s work, great’ and then the other person repeats the same thing. Everybody’s great. That’s fucking great. But I’m bored and want to poke my eyes out with a great stick.

Let’s ‘skip intro’ that motherfucker and get to where we talk about how they’re having a nervous breakdown and told their boss if they fire them they’ll make a viral TikTok about all the grab-ass going down at DeezNutz Inc.

The above hopes and daydreams might all be wishful thinking. At least for now anyway. But you never know what society will come up with in the near future.

A long time ago, I wish I had a universal remote, like the ones for the TV, that worked for everything. Now we have one; our phones can control our TVs, thermostats, doorbells, fridges, and vacuums.

And with AI making technological strides, we surely can’t be too far from the weather report syncing with my wardrobe and telling me what to wear.

Unfortunately, I think we’re still a ways away from the Foodarackacycle from The Jetsons. The machine that would materialize my dinner so that I can save my vacuum, because it texted me that it’s stuck under the dog, again.

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Life is full of dumb warnings these days, like that coffee is ‘hot’ and that the sleep aid Nytol ‘may cause drowsiness’. Or washing machines that caution you: ‘Do not put any person in this washer’, because apparently people didn’t know they shouldn’t wash their kids on spin cycle.

Despite today’s society warning us not to iron our clothes while we’re in them (yes, these are all real examples), it doesn’t come with warnings for things like adulting. Or aging.

Although perhaps we did get warnings about reaching our coffin-dodging years, but we were just too young and bull-headed to listen.

Me, I was young and bull-headed.

We all were.

So I thought I’d put together some of my own warnings about reaching your collected-all-the-wisdom-points years. Warnings for the young people to fully ignore because, of course, that won’t happen to them. That last bit was an exact quote that flew out of my piehole years ago, probably (things are fuzzy around the edges now).

Anyhoozy, here are thirteen warning labels for chronological upgrading:

1. Your Head Grows Too Much Stuff

Suddenly you need to start trimming your nose hair. And ear hair. While you’re in your ear canal, you might as well bring a loofah too, to work all that wax out of there because suddenly you have enough earwax to make a (creepy) Yankee candle.

Also, you’ll have a lot of boogers for absolutely no reason.

Your eyebrows are russian roulette of facial growth; either they’ll grow so long that you look like Pai Mei from Kill Bill, or they’ll grow in so sparse that your furrowed brow looks like furrowedly. It’ll take a year to grow back any eyebrow hairs you pluck, but your mustache and chin hair (ahem, ladies) will have a 3 o’clock shadow.

2. You Have Two Temperatures Now

You’re either freezing like you’re vacationing on the ice planet Hoth, or you’re the temperature of the sun. And you can go from arctic chill to nuclear blast in seconds.

3. Recovery Days…Plural

In your 20s, you can just ‘sleep it off’. Drunk? Just pass out. Tired? Get a decent night’s sleep. But as you age, a recovery day becomes recovery dayssss. Hangovers go extra on the hang because they can last a week. In fact, getting a shite night’s sleep can feel like a hangover now.

4. You’ll Buffer

Yup, you’ll turn into 90s internet. Sometimes it can be physical, like you ‘got up too fast’, which is a thing you can apparently do now. So you need a moment to clear the getting-up-fuzz from your brain.

Sometimes it’s mental, like you forgot a word. This takes a moment now because your brain is filtering through all the useless shit that your brain stores in the quick-access RAM, like 80s song lyrics and old Simpsons or MASH quotes.

5. You’ll Become the Nosy Neighbor

You always hated that crotchety neighbor who was always up in everyone’s business. Dammit, Eugene — nobody touched your mail, and nobody cares that Bill built his fence four millimeters too high.

But now, suddenly, you’re Eugene.

6. You Don’t Know Who Anyone is Talking About

People will mention a name, clearly a celebrity, and you’ve never heard of them. You’ll assume when they said Bad Bunny was performing at the Super Bowl that they meant Bugs Bunny. Then you pondered for a while how they were going to make a cartoon appear at a live event. Holograms, or some AI bullshit, I guess.

7. Accidental Tootage

Your sphincter apparently got tired of your shit and decided to quit. Or it at least goes on occasional work-to-rule strike because farts have started just slipping out now.

You’re bending over to pick up that thing you just dropped (because you drop things for no reason now), and breeeeeep. If you dare go up the stairs, you’ll either hear a bripptt on each step, or one long fraaap for the entire stairway to gaseous heaven ascension.

If you want to avoid accidental tootage, you need to proactively clear the pipes by going on ‘fart walks’.

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8. Your Daily Adventure Is Picking What Will Hurt Less

Something is going to hurt every day. Almost everything is going to hurt, and if it doesn’t hurt then it doesn’t work. So in a dystopian choose-your-own-adventure journey, each day you pick what part you want to hurt less.

One day, you’ll have either a bad knee or ankle, so you need to decide if you’ll take it easy on that one today. But increasing the walkian load on the other will make it the one that hurts. Choose wisely.

You know that if you sleep on your right side it’ll aggravate your tennis elbow (you don’t play tennis), but if you sleep on your left side it will hurt that rib that mysteriously aches for no god-damned reason.

Life is full of fun choices like that now.

9. Sleeping Is an Extreme Sport

At some point you’ll wake up from a night’s sleep (possibly at 3 am…to pee…again), scratch your balls or coochie, wipe the sleep out of your eyes (because your head grows more stuff now), and realize you somehow threw your back out — sleeping.

What used to be war wounds from cool adventures, and dumb ‘hold my beer’ moments, have now turned into ‘how did that bruise get there when all I did was sleep?!’

I used to do extreme things, like scuba diving, spelunking, and volcano boarding. Now sleeping is my new extreme sport.

10. So is Sneezing

I once cracked a rib launching myself off of a 20-foot chair swing into the river in Semuc Champey, Guatemala. Then a couple of years ago I cracked a rib sneezing. At least the first one had a cool story.

Unfortunately, injuring yourself by quasi-lethal sneezing is less fun to explain to people. It’s weird to say that you’re limping and hunched over like Quasimodo because you pulled a back muscle sneezing.

Also, you peed a little when you did it.

11. Your New Hobby is Googling Symptoms

In addition to switching your sports to naps, you have new hobbies now. One will be either birding or gardening; the other will be googling weird new symptoms. You’ll ask the Googs what is happening to your body, because you don’t know if something is really wrong or if that’s just your life now. Like if a rash that looks like the Mona Lisa is problematic.

Or when you’re gardening out in the sun, you go a little loopy and decide that the dirt smells delicious. Now you’re googling whether dirt-eating-induced pica is a serious issue or your iron is just low again.

Hopefully your partner catches you googling the symptoms for Parkinsons and reminds you that you’re fine — you just forgot (you forget things now) that you chugged enough caffeine to make an elephant twerk.

12. Your Stomach Becomes a Little Bitch

In our teens and 20s we could pound back a carafe of coffee, seven Twinkies and a 26-ounce steak — and then go do a biathalon. Now if you eat the top crust of a chocolate muffin you’ll be down for the count for approximately four hours. If you even look at a Twinkie or Ho Ho, your stomach will give you side-eye.

Your stomach has decided to divorce your brain and make unilateral decisions without you. One of those decisions is that if you even lick a piece of cheese, you’ll be able to fart-power the Goodyear Blimp.

You used to be able to chug a gallon of Mountain Dew alongside a Crunchwrap Supreme and then make the day your bitch. Now your stomach decides it doesn’t like a certain brand of yoghurt because it has too much acidophilus.

Also, you somehow know that acidophilus is good for your gut microbiome. This type of information has been uploaded to your brain through a combination of googling symptoms and by sheer osmosis.

But you know now that if you eat too much steak you’ll fall asleep before the Netflix logo has finished loading.

13. You Lose Your Fucks

You know that expression ‘my get up and go got up and left’? Well, it took your fucks with it. To get medieval all up in this bitch, you haven’t a fucketh to giveth.

Or perhaps you’ve just seen so much and done so much that anytime a fuckening happens you play the mental tape of your fuckery of days of yore, and it doesn’t seem so bad. Basically, it can’t hold a candle to prior fucksicles (that’s a fuck from a hell that hath frozen over).

Either way, it’s a kick-ass part of becoming nothing-left-to-learn-the-hard-way old.

Entering your ‘vintage vibes’ era is a rather miraculous process. It’s like becoming bifocalian bedazzled. Becoming hear-your-favorite-songs-in-an-elevator old is somehow the best thing to ever happen to you and the worst. You’ll feel both ways in the same day, possibly at the same time.

If on any given day your aging paradigm pendulum switches too far to the ‘worst’ side, don’t worry — you’re about to forget what you were just thinking about any second now.

But never let your levelling-up years get you down; not only is it too hard to get back up again, but there’s nothing more mentally freeing than not giving a flying fucksicle.

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Women are an enigma, wrapped up in a riddle, coated in a mystery. When men attempt to figure us out, it can be a bit like trying to solve a Megaminx Cube (a dodecahedron version of a Rubik’s Cube), with one hand tied behind your back…drunk.

But some of the shroud of mystery is revealed once you live with us.

I guess we can’t keep up the witchy charade at that point.

And here are 17 of the things men generally only learn once they’ve lived in close quarters with the fairer (and as they learn — fartier) sex:

We Have Emotional Spidey Senses

Many women have emotional spidey senses that are so finely tuned they can suss out shenanigannery a mile away. They can read between the lines by reading micro-expressions, body language, and subtle environmental or emotional shifts. It’s how we feel sense a disturbance in the emotional force.

And Stuff-Based Spidey Senses

Women have a mental map of everything in the house. Right down to the last jar of pickles. That’s why when you say ‘We’re out of yoghurt’ they can say ‘No, we’re not, it’s behind the guacamole’. Or when you ask where your belt is they can say it’s still tied around the dryer from the last time you tried to fix it, MacGyver style.

We will, however, then walk into a wall or forget why we walked into a room. What can I say, our physical spidey senses are like drunk toddlers sometimes.

We Shed Like a Golden Retriever

An adult elk sheds roughly 600,000 hairs annually. The only creature to beat this is the long-haired human female.

Everybody with hair sheds, but somehow women lose an insane amount of hair considering they aren’t going bald. We’re like golden retrievers in pant suits. You’ll find our hair wrapped around the vacuum rod and littered all over your car. If you have a cool twisty chair for gaming, in the office, or just to swivel around in like a supervillain, and the swivelling stops — it’s jammed up with her shedding.

We shed so much that we have to check baby’s fingers and penises to make sure they aren’t cutting off blood supply because their mom’s fur is trying to kill them.

You’ll also find hair on the shower walls. Some of this is accidental, but when it’s in a pattern that looks like an ancient runic cave drawing, just admire her artistic work.

We Release the Hoover Dam When We Pee

Women don’t so much ‘go to the bathroom’ as they do release an onslaught of urine that could drown a fish. I’m not sure what the PSI is, but I’m guessing it’s around the same as a commercial-grade pressure washer.

If your place ever catches on fire and the fire truck is taking its sweet ass time, just have your girl chug a gallon of Gatorade and watch her be able to extinguish the sun.

Period Poops

Our swollen uteruses are fighting for their lives, and apparently our intestines join the resistance. This causes period poops, and we have shark week shitscapades.

Comment on it at your own peril.

We Take Showers Hotter than the Sun

Tardigrades can exist in temperatures up to 150° C ( 302° F ), which is roughly as hot as the showers some of us women take. We could be human tardigrades if it weren’t for the fact that many of us need 27 layers, a heated blanket, and to put our feet on your back just to stay warm.

Don’t question our hot showers. It’s our way of burning some of the evil away.

We Exist in a Constant State of Uncomfortableness

Our boobs are sweating from being restrained in a titty prison; our spanks are riding up our coochies and ass cracks; we have period cramps and hot flashes — we’re in a state of perpetual uncomfortability. That’s why when we get home, you blink, and we’ve taken off our clothes, titty trough, makeup, and are sat atop a sultan-like number of pillows.

Yup, it only takes a woman approximately 3.7 seconds of being home to return to her natural state. It’s like getting a gremlin wet.

There Will Be Bras EVERYWHERE

There will be a boneyard of bras all around your house. They can’t be put in the dryer, so unless we’ve given up on laundryian life and are willing to sacrifice that bra to the dryer gods — they’ll be hanging to dry somewhere (possibly in the shower, possibly on a rack outside).

We can’t wait to take off our keepzumfromfläppens as soon as we get home, so you may find them in the kitchen, in the hallway, or in the foyer. Sometimes we’re so frustrated with them we fling them like a rubber band, so finding an errant bra under the couch is entirely possible.

Sometimes we can’t wait to get home to take them off, so there will be a graveyard of bras in our car.

Boobs Sweat…A Lot

Humidittities are real. A real pain in the ass. You can go about the world relatively sweat-free, but the second you put on a bra, your boobs act like they’re trying to fill an aquarium. We can easily sweat right through a flopper stopper, which is another reason you’ll find them hanging in the shower, on doorknobs, or off your ear after you fell asleep watching TV.

It’s just sweat, but I swear it’s thicker than all other sweat. It’s not sweater-meat sweat — it’s tiddy sludge.

Hair Elastics and Bobby Pins Multiply

Hair ties and bobby pins are everywhere, but also nowhere, all at once. They’re nowhere when you need them and everywhere when you don’t. When you’re desperate for one, they will have been sucked into the void to party with the laundry-machine lost socks.

There is a Wrong Way to Fold a Towel

Surely there can’t be a wrong way to fold a rectangle of fabric. There is. It’s generally whatever way you do it. The way that makes them not line up in the linen cabinet, making it look haphazard.

We shouldn’t care, but we do. Those are our post-shower soldiers, and we need them to be in a tight formation, you know, in case nosy company comes over and looks to see if we’re running a tight linen ship.

Maxi Pads Don’t Stick to the Coochie

Men are lucky not to have to deal with bleeding for a week and not dying. But it does cause some knowledge gaps. Some men enter into a domicile-ic arrangement (or hostage situation, but don’t worry, Stockholm syndrome sets in quickly) unaware of period product knowledge.

Like the fact that the sticky side on maxi pads sticks to the underwear, not the chattacoochee. Otherwise, every shark week would have an unintentional waxing scenario, and we’d be even more murderous.

Tampons Are By Flow — Not Coochie Size

Another thing men learn after their first midnight run to the tampon emporium (or to the Walgreens) is that tampon sizing is based on flow. And not like they originally thought, cooter size.

A super plus tampon isn’t because you’re packing a water buffalo down there; it’s because once a month your body reenacts the horse head scene from The Godfather.

We’re Happy to be the Big Spoon

When it comes to spooning, men tend to wear their women like a little backpack. Or if she’s a farter, a jetpack. It’s a badge of snugglian honor. But once you get more accustomed to the snuggling scenario, you realize that she has no problem being the big spoon.

I personally like it because it squishes my tatas in place for a while.

We’re Hairier Than Men Think

Many of us women, despite being made of sugar and spice and everything gneiss, are Shesquatches. We don’t just shave our legs and pits, we also shave our face, nipples, and everywhere else. Men learn about it when you stumble into the bathroom, and we’re covered in shaving foam and look like a yeti.

That, or you’ll feel the stubble when we rub our random body part on you, and it feels like Jason Statham is rubbing his chin on you.

Our Clothing is Ass Backwards

I love when men have a come-to-clothing-Jesus moment when they realize our clothing accoutrements are backwards. We put our belts on the opposite way, our shirt buttons are on the other side, and our zippers are reversed.

The zipper thing makes sense, because if you’ve ever tried to get yourself out of a fancy dress by yourself, you’d need to contort yourself into even more Cirque Du Soleil-like positions if the zipper were on the other side.

Front Farts

Men know women fart; it’s just an elusive Sphinxian wind that they’ve only been privy to a few times. That is until you move in with us and find out that we could power a wind turbine. Well, some of those assy airbiscuits get lost and come out the front. This is called ‘exiting through the gift shop’, or farty flapjacks.

Sometimes it gets stuck between the labia, creating a little fartian air pocket. We then need to lean to the side or do a side step to let it roll out like nature intended.

I’m a woman, for the most part. I’ve been one for 43 years, grew up with women, and have been surrounded by them my entire life. But I’m still figuring us out. I think most men have given up the quest to fully understand the female gender, and just sit back and enjoy the quirky ride.

But the closest men who have come to understand the Megaminx cube that is the female gender are the ones who’ve married us and lived with us.

Or at least they’ve learned how to cut the spindle of hair that’s stopping their chair from swivelling like a supervillain.

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Corporate offices should be boring, after all, it’s a bunch of people pretending to work while their company pretends to pay them (aka adulthood in a nutshell). But even the most boring offices can be an utter spectacle to behold.

It’s why we have so many corporate-based comedies, like The Office(s), Parks and Rec, Suits, and Mad Men — because the hijinx are hilarious. But you don’t need expensive actors, because every office already has a smattering of uber-weird characters.

It has the overachievers, the burnouts, the one who lost their last fuck to give a long time ago, the ones who are always eating, and the ones who are colder than an arctic witch’s tit.

At least the weird roster of office peeps gives long-time married people something to chat about every night. And here are the most common corporate coworker archetypes you find in the real-world version of The Office:

1. The Always Late-r

This is the person who is constantly late. They consider time less of a construct and more of just a vibe. They look exhausted even though they overslept, likely because coming up with ‘Sorry I’m late’ excuses is a laborious Herculean task.

So far, their grandmother has died five times, and it’s only March.

2. The Fashionista

They come into the office every day looking like they just finished a Banana Republic fashion shoot. This wouldn’t bother you so much, but you woke up half an hour late, sprayed on bug spray that you mistakenly thought was perfume because you only had one eye half open, and popped into work looking like you were just dragged behind a bus as part of your commute.

In your officeian envy, you want to put on your sassy pants, roll out an actual red carpet, and play the role of paparazzi as they jaunt into the office. But don’t, as you open the camera for their mocking photo session, it’ll open forward-facing, then your gremlin-like appearance will make matters worse.

3. The Hungry Hungry Hippo

Whenever you gaze across the cascade of cubicles at this person, they’re eating. They embrace sub-meals, including the one between lunch and dinner: lunner.

There is an upside to the hungry hungry office hippo though — they always have snacks that help you tame your hunger monster.

4. The Chatty Cathy

This person talks so much that you’re absolutely positive they talk in their sleep. They gab so much that when you get stuck in a conversation (or nonversation) with them, you call it ‘getting Cathy’d’ (or whatever their name is, like ‘Getting Steve’d’).

You actively avoid taking the elevator with this person, because if it broke down and you were stuck in there with them for hours, you’d act out the movie Alive — and eat them.

5. The Work Bestie

Your work bestie is the only reason you come to work, apart from the paycheck. They’re the bright light in your day, which is quite the feat since the office is lit with 1000W fluorescent bulbs.

If they ever quit for another job, it better be an offer for both of you, or you’ll go to their new office and start licking their windows.

6. The Office NPC

This person just kind of…exists. You won’t know their name. When you spot them in the corporateian wild, it’s generally bouncing from office to office, assumedly because they’re lost. Nobody knows exactly what they do, but apparently, they do in fact work there.

Well, that or it’s a Milton Waddams scenario from the movie Office Space, and they were fired five years ago, but due to a payroll glitch, they kept getting paid and just kept coming in. Don’t touch their stapler or they’ll burn the office down.

7. The Wannabe HR-er

They’re probably something like a receptionist, but clearly they’re an HR lady at heart as they’ve appointed themselves chief asshat, and the corporate hall monitor. They keep track of what everyone is doing and make snide comments about it, like how you’re ‘apparently’ not supposed to xerox your balls on the copy machine. Pfft, narc.

8. The Office Mum

This worker has been there so long that they’ve not only grown corporate roots, but also lineage. They pick you up when you’re feeling down (because the boss was being a stooge, again) and give you advice to climb the bullshitian corporate ladder (which has a broken third and fourth rung).

And they always have snacks, because they know their corporate cubs get too fiesty when they’re hangry.

9. The One Constantly Breaking Down

This person is who the term ‘hot mess express’ was made for. There is always some sort of emergency in their life: their partner left, their cat is sick, their dog ate their homework, and their car broke down (because they didn’t realize that, like the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz, they need oil) — all in a single week.

They can generally be found in the bathroom, crying.

10. The Always Cold One

This person was built for the Sahara, not the cold corporate atmosphere. The always cold one has layered two sweaters, is draped in three blankets, and has a hot cocoa and a space heater. If you want to score points with them, buy them a heat rock.

11. The Non-Morning Person

This gremlin hates mornings. The entire office knows not to talk to them until their second cup of coffee, which they drink from a mug that says ‘Don’t test me, I’ll put your body in the trunk and then help people look for you’.

12. The Gossip

Who needs coffee when you can have piping hot tea? The office gossip is the one with all hot goss. They know that the boss is shtupping his executive assistant in the janitor’s closet, that Carl in finance is laundering money, and that, for some reason, Jill uses the disabled toilet and takes all of her clothes off to poop.

They can be toxic, but the boss can’t fire them. Largely because they know the boss’s wife’s phone number and that he’s doing the humpty-squirty with his EA.

13. The One That Stopped Giving a Fuck

The person who lost their last fuck to give about working at Deez Nutz Incorporated may be a toxic point in the work environment from the boss’s perspective — but they make corporate life worth living. You never know what they’ll do; they may stroll in an hour late while playing a kazoo, they may show up in a disheveled suit and flip-flops, and play out a scene from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Either way, it’s an entertaining watch.

At least once a day, they’ll act like a cat and slowly move items on the boss’s desk to the edge, while giving intense eye contact, to assert dominance. They’re daring the boss to fire them, but they can’t — because this person knows where the corporate bodies are buried.

14. The Caffeine Freak

You can easily tell the caffeine freak in the office by the four different caffeinated bevvies on their desk at one time. They’ll have a coffee, an iced machiatto, a four-hour energy shot, and a Red Bull. Their theory is that why be only slightly caffeinated when you can power the sun.

These are the people who, aside from a paycheck, make going to work worth it. They make the enterprise-ial earth keep spinning around the corporate sun, so that the capitalist world as we know it doesn’t implode.

And they give you something to bitch about during after-work margaritas.

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You can be blissfully sailing through your day, only to have a minor inconvenience pull you back to reality. Or you’re already a grumpy biatch, you’ve got one eye twitching, and one irksome mini bump is enough to send you off the deep end. It starts your villain arc.

Who knew you were one doorknob-snagged-on-a-kitchen-drawer-handle moment away from becoming a super villain?

And here are ten of the most irksome minor inconveniences that can lead someone to become a Final Boss of Bitchery, or at least make you slightly paranoid that the world is out to get you that day:

1. Bagging Bollocks

You’re going through the self-checkout. You’re already annoyed because you don’t work there, and they have one of those cameras looking up at you, publicly displaying your double chin. Then, as you scan the items as fast as you can (because we make the best of a shite situation, and now it’s a challenge of speed), the machine back-talks you and says ‘Unrecognized item in bagging area’.

For fucks sake. No, there isn’t.

Maybe a slight breeze went by, maybe the machine is haunted by the ghost of Ebeneezer McScrooge, but there isn’t an extra item. Now you have to wait for a staffer to come over and recalibrate the scales of groceries past. Summabitch, they could’ve just rung through the whole thing.

2. ‘Resealable’ Fabrications

You bought a big ole bag of Chips Ahoy cookies. But you picked the one with the ‘resealable’ package, so you wouldn’t eat the entire bag in one sitting like the savage you are. And miraculously, you didn’t. You go to reseal the bag and realize that word on the package is some bullshit.

A Mensa member and a Navy SEAL couldn’t close this damned bag.

Now, you’re forced to eat the entire bag because you can’t waste Chips Ahoys in this economy. ‘Errhm, you could put them in something else’…shh, mind your business, no, I can’t. And now not only is the bag not resealable — but now your pants don’t fit.

3. Sidewalk Blockers

You’re out for a nice evening stroll, admiring the flowers, seeing if your neighbor is cheating with her boss again because his car is in the driveway. You know, tranquil shit. Then all of a sudden, you see a darkening of the sidewalk. A huge shadow is cast by people walking side-by-side.

Now you have to make a game-time decision. Do you catapult yourself onto the neighboring lawn to go around this blob of humans — or did this gaggle of sidewalkian hogs just start a grown-up edition of Red Rover?

You choose the latter, obviously. Now all of a sudden, the neighborhood group chat is blowing up about what a dickhead you are. So you’re in a fight with the whole neighborhood, defending your sidewalkian honor, and blasting them for taking up the whole sidewalk like oblivdiots.

4. ‘You Pick’

Ooh la la, it’s takeout night. You and your spouse/partner/friend/hostage are deciding what to order to shove into your pieholes tonight. They say the dreaded phrase, ‘You pick’.

A phrase that you know is less of a request and more of a trap.

You’ll list a few places, they’ll say no to all of them, so you tell them to pick. They’ll remind you that they said you can pick. And now what you’ve picked for dinner is divorce.

5. A Sock Falling Down on the Job

You’re skedaddling along, happier than a pig in shit, enjoying your day to the fullest. But life’s gremlins see you peaceful and need to throw a wrench in that happiness. Then, all of a sudden, one sock slides halfway off in your shoe.

FFS, sock — You had one job.

Within moments, it’s rolled up like Snoop Dogg just turned your sock into a blunt. Now you have a cloth-based foot roller under the arch of your foot that immediately triggers your plantar fasciitis.

At this point, your only choice is to take the sock off and burn it.

In front of the others.

As a warning.

6. Wet Sleeves

You don’t appreciate sleeves that are drier than the Sahara until one of them gets wet. It’s a horrible occurrence that can bungle up your whole day, especially since it most often happens to me while doing dishes (not my favorite activity).

Now you have wetitude. It’s being wet while having a shitty attitude about it.

If the sleeve’s wetness wasn’t bad enough, it’s the awkwardness of it being out of whack that it’s just one. Do I wet the other sleeve just to achieve a more zen-and-balanced-but-still-irritated state? Or do I just give in and wet the entire shirt because the universe sent me a tiny sign to start a wet t-shirt contest?

7. Phantom Phone Pssp Pssps

You feel a bzzz bzzz in your pocket. Sweet, maybe it’s a notification that your crush just texted you, maybe you won that online contest to have dinner with Keanu Reeves (he’s a nice dude, I’m assuming it’s for charity), or maybe your bank accidentally deposited a million dollars into your account.

But it was a phantom buzz.

Phantom phone vibrations that make you think you’re losing your digital mind, but in the real world. Now you’re scrolling your phone for no reason, four hours have gone by, and you’re questioning your sanity. Phantom bzzz’s can buzz off.

8. Voicemail Bullshizzle

Ding: you have a voicemail. So you call the voicemail, go through the phone tree, listen to the totally unnecessary digital preamble, then finally get to the message. And…it’s a spam call. Or that cousin who talks for hours without pausing, and they just left you an eight-minute voicemail where they miraculously gave you zero useful information.

There are meetings that should’ve been an email, and voicemails that should’ve been a text message.

9. Greedy Chargers

You get a new device, and as you’re excitedly setting it up, you go to plug it in and realize the charger covers more than one power slot. You have other power slots you can use, but that’s not the friggin point. That charger is greedy and doesn’t understand the slottage pecking order. You only get one, that’s the power-outlet slotting principle that has been keeping outlets orderly since the invention of the lamp.

10. Clothing-Doorknob Cahoots

You walk by the same door handle, in the same clothes, like you’ve done 27,000 times. This 27,001st time, the handle reaches out and bites your belt loop. This shouldn’t be a big deal, you just gently release it and go about your day, right?

Wrong. It only happens when you’re already rushed and annoyed.

Now you’re threatening the door handle with a hardware upgrade and chastizing the inanimate piece of scrap metal. You want its knobian head mounted on a stick as a warning to the others.

Woo-Sah

The next time you experience one of the annoying-as-fuck moments above, take a time out and do some woo-sah breathing techniques. Realign your inner motherfucker’s chakra — and shake it off.

Because we have enough supervillains running around the world already.

And running the world.

Plus, having an arch nemesis is shockingly time-consuming, and you have laundry to fold.

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