My Attention Span vs. Time

Today was lousy.

I woke up, looked at the minutes on the clock, and freaked out. I dressed in under a minute, and ran out of the house.

I hopped in my car, drove three feet, and smashed the right side-mirror off of my car (once again). I was reminded that it was garbage day by the simple sound that a mirror makes when cracking off of the side of a garbage bin placed on the curb.

Take note of the green bastard next to the curb in the background.

After driving like James Bond to campus, I rushed to get to my class that I thought I was late for. It turns out I was actually 55 minutes early. It’s not necessarily a bad thing to be that early, but it definitely makes you question your intelligence.

Class ended, I had a quick lunch, and I walked back to my car in the cold rain.

Content on salvaging the day, I decided that peanut butter cookies would save me from misery.

But the peanut butter cookies did more to reveal my issues than they did to comfort me.

And so I present the inversely exponential relationship of my attention span versus time, in an easy to understand flow of pictures:

Batch 1: “Holy fucking cock-monkeys, I really want to eat a delicious peanut butter cookie, so I’ll be damned if I fuck them up.”

Perfection comes with a soft, succulent center.

Batch 2: “The peanut butter cookies from Batch 1 tasted pretty good, so I guess more cookies would be nice to eat in the future.”

Crunchy, but I'm not getting my panties in a bunch.

Batch 3: “What? Peanut butter cookies? What are you talking about?”

Umm...

This is why I usually stick to raw cookie dough- more salmonella, less smoke detector, and much more suited for my attention span.

Top Ten Reasons Why I Know I am Gay

I recently came out of the closet to my family. It went something like this:

Mmm... gay demons.

After all of the drama, anxiety, and excitement, I have decided to explain my sexuality in a way that makes more sense. Feelings of natural love for the same sex, an inability to be even remotely attracted to women, and an innate need to screw guys just isn't enough justification for some people.


Here are the real reasons why I know I'm gay:

Top Ten Reasons 

Why I Know I am Gay

So many 'staches, so little time.

10. I once blew out a speaker while blasting Journey alone in my house. And then I continued to play Journey with only the treble speaker working. I am not ashamed.

I love how Calvin Klein likes to pretend that straight guys actually buy their underwear. You're not fooling anyone, Calvin Klein, these guys can't wait to get their hands off of these ladies and onto each other.

9. Every time I pass a male underwear aisle, I get distracted and forget everything I was supposed to do that day. Sometimes I even forget what year it is, and how long I’ve been standing there with a pair of Calvin Klein briefs hanging out of my mouth.

Check out InfoMania, they do a really GreAYt segment. This is that segment's logo.

8. I have the uncanny ability to detect when “gay” is being used as an insult, from up to three miles away. “Did that guy four classrooms down the hall and two floors above us seriously just call The Office ‘gay?’ What the fuck!?”

7. I subconsciously replace feminine pronouns in songs with masculine ones. “He loves you, yea, yea, yea- He loves you yea, yea, yea.”

This is the gayest coffee mug I could find.

6. I drink coffee, and I talk about how much I drink coffee. Sometimes I even talk about how much I talk about drinking coffee. So yeah, that’s pretty gay.

5. I organize things into detailed lists.

Calvin and Hobbes made me gay.

4. I kissed a girl and I didn’t like it, but the taste of her cherry chapstick was “okay.”

3. I just referenced Katy Perry.

2. I’m attracted to my own body wash, deodorant, and man-scents.

1. This Haiku I wrote pleases me:

Oh, Jake Gyllenhaal.

Oh, Robert Downey Junior.

Oh, Taylor Lautner.