The Randomist

This is probably going to become a regular thing on here because I inevitably learn things that I never wanted to know on a weekly basis.  I'm not talking about finding out that your parents are still having wild sexual gymnastics parties involving swings and your childhood bed, but random facts that I pick up here and there, like how there's pig skin in gummi bears.  Although now that I've put the image of your parents having athletic sex in your head, what I'm learning you today is probably a lot less horrifying. I'm a HUGE fan of learning things.  I like to be smarter than everyone else and whip out my scholastic prowess at random to impress the masses.  I also love to read and I do it quite frequently.  I even read shampoo bottles when I'm in the bathroom when I can't quite bear to gaze upon fine Swedish home furnishings one mo' again. However, in my educational and literary journeys, I often come across things that appear interesting, so I res...

I need therapy. I need a lot of it. And I need it now. All of my life my parents have been telling me things I never, ever, EVER wanted to know about. Other people seem to do this as well but it’s never as disturbing as someone telling you how good (or bad) one of your parents is in bed. I KNOW that I am not a miracle of God. I KNOW that I wasn’t the product of an immaculate conception; but I REALLY REALLY REALLY like to think that I was. Can’t you say that you found me in a cabbage patch? Can I not be one of those magical babies that were air mailed from God via carrier stork? These are the things that children need to hear, not, “He wasn’t very well endowed… if you know what I mean” (this isn’t about anyone in particular, by the way). OF COURSE I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN! I do not want to flip through old family photos and reminisce about the picture where there’s a dildo sitting on the table beside my step-father! Where did it come from? WHY WAS IT EVEN THERE?!? Five...

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. What the FUCK is that NOISE?!? Oh wait, that’s right. That’s just my BIOLOGICAL CLOCK TICKING! (Side note: why does no one ever say its tocking?) But seriously. How can this be happening? I’m only TWENTY THREE!!!! There are a multitude of reasons why this shouldn’t be happening to me right now. I’m not even going to try to list them all at this point except the most obvious, which is… I’m poor. No, seriously. I really am. I’m still like a small child… that smokes, drinks, and cusses like a sailor, but the point is… As mature as I am, I am still WAY too immature to procreate right now. I can’t even afford myself the majority of the time, so what the hell would I do with an extra human lying around? Unlike me, the baby could not subsist on cigarettes, Coke, and Velveeta shells and cheese for long periods of time. They need new clothes every five and half minutes because they either A.) Soil themselves in some fashion or B.) Have grown a...