Greatest Invention Ever

Every time I use the oven, the smoke alarm goes off.

I’ve tried everything

I’ve taken the batteries out, but then the maintenance man bitches

I’ve moved it to the other side of the kitchen, but then it picks up smoke from the neighbors

I’ve placed a fan towards the vents, only to have the alarm go off.

I guess somethings are meant to be annoying.

The only combatant I have these days is headphones.

Beep Beep

Neighbors pound and shout “WHAT’S GOING ON IN THERE!”

But I only hear Tom Petty running down a dream.

God Bless Bose

Be Honest

Why do you give a shit?

About the eyes,

the words,

the sharp pain of standing out with an opinion.

You’re worried about getting isolated

yet,

you hide inside yourself

day after day

around the people you claim are your friends

who you’ve spent over 20 years with

and

still

aren’t close enough

to have the decency

to drop your fork on the porcelain plate and honestly say:

“Your pot roast is tastes drier than grandma pussy.”

…Why do you give a shit?

36 Weeks

I made it 36 weeks.

36 weeks since I last messaged you.

I know this because you’re a millennial who only uses snapchat to text

It’s like a bomb timer in a Steven Seagal movie, that counts up

to infinity

or 36 weeks.

In that time, I’ve lived in two major US cities

I’ve dated doctors, lawyers, waitresses, Actresses, Economics professors, HR reps

I’ve had one night flings with girls from Brittan, South Africa, and the good ol’ USA

I’ve joined acting classes, bowling leagues, Soccer

I’ve went from having no friends, to more than I see on a regular basis

Despite all that, I got up and for the first time in 36 weeks

I thought of you.

I thought about our last drunken adventure where you kicked some girl out of your apartment

and the creamy vanilla perfume you always wear

and the one time you told me not to kiss you before our date because you just put on makeup, yet I did it anyways

to which you brought up months later as evidence that I was your “soulmate” even though I don’t believe in that.

I thought about all of those times

and how I’m sure you’re doing well wherever you are

with whoever you’re with

and I guess,

I just wanted to say “hi”.

Also,

I have the same pair of boots as you in that pic. #twins

How to Stand Out At a Concert

You move through the herd of selfie takers by the Riot Fest Demon Head

Dodge the Random Zombies in between stages, Texting their friends

Bump into the groups scrolling Instagram while Weezer warms up

You tilt your head to make out Rivers Cuomo from the sea of iPhones recording

“Bro, give me your Phone, I’ll take a sweet video for you” Says the stoned kid in the Bulls Hat next to you.

“It’s cool man, I’ll just enjoy it now.”

Welcome to being fucking weird in 2018.

9731

People shuffle in, waiting in a wavy line to order a drink.

Like a well trained robot the workers turn out cup after cup of coffee

What’s the bathroom code?

9731

A long blonde finished with yoga gets a latte.

A cab driver with a Bluetooth headset gets a Pikes Roast

A Chinese girl struggles to order tea.

No Hello.

No Small talk.

And only one inevitable question, with a four number answer.

9731

9731

9731

A homeless man cuts in front of a teen in Daisy Dukes. He demands water as his trash bag knocks into the girl’s Kate Spade. The workers give him the cup and before he opens his mouth they say

9731

James the Manager of this Starbucks has a Master Degree From Columbia.

9731

Sarah, making the Green Tea Latte, has done Modeling for Target.

9731

Jade, taking the orders, has another day job to pay for her daughters private school.

9731

They’ve said the numbers so many times, the feeling is completely sucked out.

I asked if they’ve ever thought about putting a sign up.

They all gave me a confused look, and went back to working.

In a Perfect World

In a perfect world, I’d give a shit about our Retarded president and the hurt he’s caused. I protest my thoughts on Twitter and join the fight.

In a perfect world, I would go out for drinks when my co-workers ask me too. I wouldn’t make up an excuse and go write at Starbucks alone.

In a perfect world, I would acknowledge the pleas of homeless. I wouldn’t pretend I that I don’t have any change. Or ignore a man who has blood running from his eyes.

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to get into crushing debt to learn how to place lines on a computer screen.

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t watch the woman sneak her wedding ring off as I order another drink. And the next morning, we wouldn’t lie to each other saying that “we’ll totally do this again sometime”.

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t get sad watching all the empty eyes berried in their phones on the train. It wouldn’t break my heart to see all the endless scrolling, just for a little hit of stimulus.

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have felt nothing when I was called a Racist, Bigot, Nazi, white trash, nigger lover, faggot, ignorant, or any other hateful slang.

But unfortunately, I live in this one,

where the hardest part is looking at yourself in the mirror everyday.