If there are too many girls in your life

Just take some lessons from me

I can fix it for you.

I was texting a girl today.

She told me she had just gotten a new roommate.

I was like, OMG! B OR G?

And she was like, “B”

And so I was like

“Well, a male roommate! You are one castmember short of a sitcom! I think it should be called “Two guys, a girl, and a Pizza Mace (it will be a sitcom about the inventor of spray pizza)”

This, evidently, ended the ‘convo’

Weird little turns of phrase will come and go.

For example

Frannis Scrace.

Frannis Scrace was a nonsense person/place in a crime novel I read once. Frannis Scrace was what or who the oversized, maniac killer that . . . ah . . . villinated that novel would ask an innocent bystander about. The momentary pause while the person sort of engaged sortilage to parse that little gem . . . “does he mean the old Francis Place? Is he looking for Fran Isgrace?” etc, that was the pause the killer used to hit and stun the victim with a three-foot length of tractor chain taped with athletic tape. After that, well, the person was basically fucked, because the killer was not the sort of person that required repeated blows to subdue a normal, ordinary churchgoer such as those he kilt.

I think about Frannis Scrace all the time. The idea that there are these bombs, these gordian bullets, that we just stick on – why is that? Why do we try to decode what we don’t recognize, rather then accepting or skipping or forgetting?

Thinking about Frannis Scrace has made me into Frannis Scrace. People don’t get what I’m saying a lot of the time.

They have to parse it out. Think it through. Decide if I’m fucked up or just fucking with them or what.

Say, friend, would you know how to get to the Frannis Scrace?

Let me ask you a question:

What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?

What do you hide from your friends?

What do you think they’d say if they knew?

Now…

That in mind…

What do they hide from you?

What would they really do, or think?

Do you want to know the sad truth?

They wouldn’t care all that much. You think you’re some holy terror, I’m sure. You think if you ever did get in a fight, man people would be shocked how angry you are, right? You think, man if someone messed with my kids, I teach them a lesson.

Don’t you?

Of course.

You have to. You have to think you COULD go crazy. You have to think you COULD make something happen. It’s a defense mechanism, a mental prophylactic against a world that can just plain fuck you up at any time.

Do you want to know what your friends would think?

They’d think, “how does this change ME?”

“what does this mean . . . for me…for my social calendar . . . for my reputation.”

They wouldn’t think, “oh my poor friend…what could have driven him to that?” because it’s just way down the list of thoughts and you’ll be gone before there’s time.

They wouldn’t think, “Oh jesus I was wrong about him,” unless you screw that friend over personally, because people aren’t wired to question their own judgment.

So if DO have a big bad past…keep your mouth shut, unless the stories are cool.

And if you don’t, be glad instead of telling yourself you could if you had too.

The battle was over. Skynet had lost.

Seriously, I don’t usually just “dump a link”

but this is cool.