I wish I was young again…

At some point in adult life, most people kinda wish they were a kid again. And they say how it was fun, to play with toys, watch cartoons and not really worry about how money is coming in. It’s about less responsibilities – not having to have grown up problems.

In fact, they might have the following dialogue in their mind or to a friend:

“Man, I’d like to be a kid, cause your grandparents would give you 5 bucks!.. and 5 bucks was a lot of money to you back then. and it was awesome! You could buy candy or a comic book. but now that you’re an adult; your grandparents still give you 5 bucks. And that’s nice, but now you feel bad, cause they’re old, and 5 bucks is their budget for a month. So now, they have to haggle the local grocery for that day old bread, so they can have bread with their butter and a touch of sugar sandwiches. I remember just sitting around playing video games all day.  Or running outside in the sprinklers just having a ball. It ain’t like that anymore. Man, I wish I was young again…”

But, others might even reach a bit further back, and reminisce about being a baby.

“Man, I’d like to be a baby, cause you would drool or even do that baby puke. and people thought ’gross‘. But at the same rate… awwwwwww. But now, if you do that, you’re mainly just gross, and people laugh at you.Or, you could be chubby and it was okay. It was a sign of health.  Or you could scream or make loud random noises, and people were okay with it, cause you’re a baby.  Ain’t nothing wrong with that. And people take care of you, hold you, and change your diaper, feed you. Babies have got it made. Man, I wish I was young again…”

But it’s a rarity for someone to say they want to be a fetus again. It could be due in part, that you would have to have the following dialogue or something similar :

“Man. I’d like to be a fetus again; it was much easier back then. You know back up in my mom’s vagina just hugging that uterus wall like a koala bear. So much simpler then. Don’t have to worry about what you’re do in life, just gotta hang on. When people just cared if you had a penis (or a vagina) and didn’t really care how big it was. Where most people loved you, and just wanted you to hold onto that wall (for 9 months) and that’s all that people wanted of you. They just cared that you existed even in that form. They didn’t expect any more of you than that.  Those were the days… I tell ya. Man, I wish I was young again…”

But I doubt people would reach that far back and have such a conversation, even if just in their minds. The whole first part about being back up in your mom’s vagina is just a bit awkward of a statement to state. But who knows… maybe its peace.  It is the least of the responsibilities.

Where are you in your mental state of life? Ever think about being a kid or whatnot again?


I’m sorry ma’am… it’s actually a Relic…*

Have you ever had an object that you may have obtained in some manner either given or self-purchased, that you almost wanted to break, just so you can get some new stuff?

But then you kinda think about the object and the memory you attach to it – the reason you bought it; the amount of times you used it or when or some odd off story about. And so you remember why you got it then and how you feel about it now. So, that makes you want to refrain from intentionally destroying it. Sentimentality, if you will.

And you have that conundrum in your mind for a moment.

But that’s what my bad habit consists of. For the Harry Potter fans, i got this one…but its’ like Lord Voldemort, and how he wants to live forever and so he puts part of his soul in various objects or whatnot.(See: horcrux) And there’s a history of that and so someone is remembered. And that is why I feel the need to hold on to these objects sometimes. It’s like associated with a memory of someone, so it’s like for that instant they live again for a moment. And it’s nice in a sense.

But I have to give these things up a bit. Cause a person cannot be smothered by their memories. If memories equal stuff, that’s a lot of stuff

It’s like in that movie, “Push” with the smellers or the feelers, who can see the memory of things by either scent or touch, as demonstrated in the scene, when they shot from the angle of the cup in the main character’s apartment. Every object has a history.

But I live in memories sometimes…

* – the title is funny to me, because that is the memory that I keep with my watch that I now wear on my wrist. I didn’t quite say that but I meant to.

The memory: I was in Vegas, and I was playing poker. And I had my watch was on, because I’ve decided a watch would make me look more sophisticated and adult-like. (I had come to this idea of sophistication because of clothing magazines or whatnot. The male model is in a suit and wearing a suave watch, with well-coifed hair, and shiny non-sneaker shoes. I figured I might as well start small, so I got a shiny metal watch.)

A girl at the poker table inquired about my watch, with a simple question of “What kind of watch is that?” I had to tell her it was called “a relic” much to my chagrin. I forget what she said afterwards, as I folded my hand and wished she’d stop talking to me cause I couldn’t concentrate on the game.

So this memory tells me that I am correct in that the notion to wear a watch to look more sophisticated and adult-like had worked. And when I think about the memories that passed that first one, I realize I did appear adult-like in that I haven’t been carded for alcohol bought at the store. haha. but also, in thinking about the poker memory I realize that the girl decided not to open the conversation with “What are you a japan-neez? or a KOR-eee-an?” but instead inquired about the shiny watch. (even though I think her next few questions/statement did ask me about my ethnicity I think). Regardless, score one for the first question in a conversation to not involve ethnic background or religious beliefs (e.g., “I wish I was buddha-ist, then my ass would be a lot skinnier… haha what do you guys like fast for like 30 days or something right? Gandhi right?”).


Hopes and Thoughts

You know sometimes when I hear someone say, “hey, I got (x number of) extra tickets to this show…” a part of me hopes the next line would read, “and it’s yours for free if you want it.”

But rarely does that occur. The more the usual line is “…and they cost (y amount of) dollars.” :-(

And I mean, I understand the reasoning behind all the happenings, I just wanted to express what I hope for sometimes. However, then I realize or remember that I don’t like going outside and so free tickets or not, I wouldn’t accept. All for naught.


Quick bits…

  •  stupid thought. but its like all the people talk about like supermodels being too skinny. or that people are putting too much emphasis on that skinny is sexier or something. but i think its not about being skinny is pretty…its practicality. the skinny people use less material for designs. so it costs less to make a dress or something. no?
  • dr. scholl’s shoe things look just like the geico ones. like in the dr. scholl’s commercial uses like gels as circles and they look like eyes. while geico uses eyes on top of a money. i think its diff color, like blue vs green. but its similar and kinda makes me laugh. cause the dr. scholls commercial deals with a dude who is getting his CAR towed. ha.
  •  i was at dinner with coworkers. and i looked at a coworker that i had seen before. and i thought he had a tattoo on his forearm. but it turned out to be a lot of arm hair.
  • somehow i think if the police chief speaks with a new york-an kinda accent, no matter the state, just sounds more authorative for some reason.
  • i got this joke i sent to a friend out in missouri or whatever.
    “What’s the difference between your vagina and my dick?”
    “about 1800miles and 7inches :-p”oooooooooooooh vulgarity hahaha.
  • sometimes when you’re cleaning up your place, you might come across like an old “lost” item. and then you remember, oh its not really yours, it use to be like your friend’s, or your significant other (at the time)’s. but now its like you no longer are in touch with that person anymore, cause you moved away or they did. but then other times, you kinda realize, ‘oh yea. they’re dead. and they are never gonna come back…unless zombies come back alive, but even then, the strength required to open the coffen and the 6ft of dirt would be impossible for a deceased body of that age to be able to open up. and so, they’re still dead and gone.” and having that dialogue in your brain helps from really thinking about the death part… and just focus on the permanent ownership of the object now. that and just repeating it kinda almost makes it humourous in some manner not understandable at the moment.
  • theres that commercial with all the food icon (logos).like charlie tuna is there. the coutn chocula i think. the jolly green giant, the pickles guy, pillsbury doughboy and like that little girl off the mortons salt. and its like a mastercard thing abuot like getting everyone together… priceless.but i was thinking… of all the food icons there, charlie tuna is kinda fucked up. and to a lesser extent doughboy. charlie tuna is essentially telling people to eat tuna. and he’s a tuna. and its like if he eats it isn’t that cannibalism?

    the doughboy is bad cause he’s made of dough and so is his pastries or baked goods.

  • “Here Will, heres a shirt [hands over shirt]. i didnt know your shirt size so i got you a 2XL. i figure you’ll either grow into it…or you have the mind to shrink it in the dryer.”


Danny-etics – Meta-sophical


time to get metasophical or something… metaphore philosophical or something. actually, its more of a simile than anything else.


you. me. life. we are all just cigarettes. cause no matter how we taste, or look, or size, or feel, eventually, we’re put out or go out. we run our course. and some of us get put out before we’re technically done. and its sad cause you think, ‘hey… you’re not done yet… you still got some left to be smoked.’ but thats neither here nor there…it just is. (and you enjoy it while its still smoking. and the ashes are just means for a memory).

but the end is all the same. in the end, we’re just butts. there’s no further use. and we’re discarded and put into the dirt or sand or whatnot. extinguished. done.

and we all might last a different length of time. no matter how long the cigarette, even if its smoked to the end, all you have left is the filter. once you hit that theres no more smoking to be had. no more living.

theres a finite end. we just don’t know how long its gonna last. or if we’re gonna get put out before we reach the end.

and i suppose the inevitable question is… who’s smoking us? you could say god, God, Buddha, Jesus, or jsut plain ol Mother Nature, like we’re just a burning leaf and the passing wind is fueling us.

but thats just my random philosophical idea i had when i was driving. and i was wondering… when it will end. but acknowledging it does end. … like a cigarette.

Perhaps, I should be a screenwriter…

today, my mechanic informed me, ‘you have too much junk in your trunk”.
and with a raise eyebrow, i put down my bagel.

Setting: Tower Records

1 Male, 18-22yrs old, store clerk
1 Male, mid-20s, customer purchasing music CDs.

Customer, “oh, hi. i noticed that this CD was listed as 11.99 on the website. but it’s 16.99 here.”
Clerk, “uh huh. well, why didnt you buy it online?”
Cust, “oh, because i wanted to get it now, instead of waiting for it to be delivered.”
Clerk,”oh ok. well, in that case, thats a “now” charge.”
Cust, “what? thats crazy.”
Clerk,”yea, well you’re crazy.”, points finger.
Cust,[confused look], “you must hate your job.”
Clerk,”of course! except for moments like these.”


so that didn’t happen, but the thought occurred…in my head. even though i’d be the customer and the clerk would be the clerk. but it just amuses me, like my other made up one about teh supermarket. here it is again! cause it makes me laugh cause its more raw than the above one.

setting: supermarket – the rice and pasta aisle.

1 caucasian male shopper, 30-40 yrs old, curiously confused.
1 chinese male shopper, early 20s, easily disgruntled.

caucasian male, “Excuse me, can you help me?”
asian male, “um. sure, what do you need?”
cm, “I’m looking at all these rices here, and what do you suggest is a good type of rice grain?”
am, “you’re looking at the rices and you’re asking me whats the best one?…”
cm,”Yes” (blink blink)
am, “its jasmine, its good.”
cm,”Thanks. I could tell you know whats a good type of rice.”
am, “… ok. now that i helped you, maybe you can help me.”
am, “heres a picture of my two sisters… can you suggest which one i should fuck?”
cm,”…” (runs away)
am, “hey, where are you going? what? i can’t ask you something you might know about?”

brain = imagination station, and the train has already left…


Old Thought for a Sunday

check it, i think they should come out with a holiday line of scarecrows with a jesus theme. i mean if you look at it, jesus nailed to the cross is really similar to the classic scarecrow design. in fact, i wonder if jesus did in fact inspire the first person to come up with the scarecrow.

as if a farmer thought about jesus, and was thinking, ‘you know what would scare off some birds from my crop…jesus… on the cross.” and eventually, the jesus scare crow got covered up with clothes, cause people don’t want to see a mostly nekkid jesus all the time. (plus, using a dead/dying body or recreating a skin texture would be difficult in older times- what with the lack of the innovations of prosthetics or plasticine for realistic skin texture). i mean it wasn’t his finest physical form at that time. cause i mean i think he got stabbed by a spear and looked a bit emaciated or whatnot.

anyways, back to the point. SCARECROW: Jesus Edition, just in time for christmas. the only bad thing is if the crows were phillistine or something, then they’d peck the shit out of jesus.

jesus. jesus. jesus. jesus. jesus.