So I’ve decided that a good idea would be to carry around a small(ish) notebook/journal with me. Too many times I have fleeting jokes, ideas, or random thoughts pass between my ears with no net to safely catch and hull them in over starboard. Perhaps you can relate, or perhaps I’m a nut.
Regardless, I present to you the first edition of this hopefully long lasting segment. I record things of my interest or humor into the notebook and make them available to you here. Shall we go on?…
3.31.15. @ 1 pm.
My thoughts as the elevator doors closed as someone was nearing it – If you’re not going to show the least amount of effort to reach this elevator before the doors close, I feel no remorse for allowing them to do so.
The Ballpark Boozer. 3.31.15. @ 10:20 pm.
Introduction here really quick. Ballpark Boozer is an anonymous, mutual friend of a few people and I, and he shall remain nameless, faceless, and whatever else-less, except for the Ballpark Boozer moniker. He also LOVES to impersonate former presidents, and he’s clearly a dude.
Boozer says, in a Bill Clinton voice – Today, I took a shit so big, it had teeth, glasses, and a 5 o’clock shadow. I almost fall to the floor laughing.
Ballpark Boozer. 3.31.15. @ 10:47 pm.
Boozer’s eyes widen. He leaps, arms in the sky. Landing aggressively, he points both fingers directly at me and yells, Holy shit! That’s a fucking Neil deGrasse Tyson SHIRT! Here’s a photo of said shirt:
3.31.15. 11:00 pm.
Boozer and I realize that 312 bottles are very fragile, or we’re the Hulk’s brothers…
3.31.15. @ 11:05 pm.
Talking about his recent trip to spring training in Arizona, Boozer says – I saw the bees over there, but I HAD to get to the Salty Señorita, so I went over there, and a bee started chasing my dumb ass. I ran away like a little girl.
So there you have it. Edition one of the RMP Notebook. Hope you enjoyed.