Medicine to Mask My Pain

I take medicine to mask my pain, I put a smile on to mask my sadness, I use masking tape to hang some stuff on the wall to partially mask the ugliness of the wall and yet, when I wear as actual mask in public, I am considered "weird" and "creepy" and "worthy of holding you over night". Talk about your mixed messages.

My hair seems to have a mind of its' own, while my mind just wishes and wishes that it could have enough hair for a comb-over.

I heard the other day that it is better to have loved and lost, and I slapped myself upside the head as I had it backwards. I knew it felt weird when I spent a long time just flat out lost hoping that something magical and romantic would happen. Those were my 20s or as I like to call them "A Long Walk In The Woods".

The other day when I was out walking I had an overwhelming desire to mark a spot with an 'X', fly to Cuba for a salad, sing in an opera and then go home and hard boil four eggs, but not eat them, as that would be too cliched.

I require exactly 24 hours notice for any requests involving cheese and more so if I will be required to dress up as a mouse and pose for photos.

I don't know about you, but one of the most important features I look for in my sushi restaurant is the quality of its WiFi followed closely by the freshness of its fish - if I can have both, then I am one happy dude.

I, for one, am glad that the library limits the number of periodicals I can sign out at one time because if I was able to put together my love of fine magazines with my inability to safely deal with the absence of limits it would only spell trouble for the rest of the patrons of the local library.

Others have observed recently that I am in desperate need of some vowels, and that although they appear to have enough to go around, they are not sharing, or at least not sharing with me as I smack of desperation.

I flip pancakes with the best of them which only makes me stand out like a sore thumb as I am just flipping pancakes to pass the time until my thumbs feel well enough again to make waffles. Note: never attempt to move a hot waffle iron with your thumbs even when it seems like it will solve all of your problems; it won't, and even if it does, the searing and debilitating pain you will feel emanating from your thumbs will make you second guess everything rendering any problems solved moot.

I poured my heart into creating some art, mostly self portraits, and was crushed when I was told that the window had closed a long time ago on the cave person-era of artwork. 

I've learned the hard way that dressing up as a life-sized banana does nothing for my metaphysical angst, though I am dressed up as a banana, so I do have that.

I often chop vegetables when I want to cook something, although I have found it both therapeutic and relaxing when done while relaxing in a hot tub with Epsom salts. The  uniformity of my knife cuts suffer though.

When I walk downtown, I often stare up at the tops of the tall buildings and I imagine a man, similar to me in almost every way, at the top of the building staring down at me and just laughing and laughing at how small I am, until he realizes that he is only a figment of my imagination, and then the joke is on him.

Others have encouraged me to face my fears or to put my best foot forward or to at least stop mailing them jello. But I ask them, what am I supposed to do with all of these envelopes I just bought, not to mention all of that jello just sitting there begging to be mailed?

Some shirts make me happier than they should while my pants are always such a downer.

I haven't literally grasped at straws in months as my wife felt like we couldn't fit that into our tight budget - "waste of straws" she said. She is always saying that! If I had a dime for every time she said that, I could go buy some straws already.

Those close to me find my need to be loved "cute" and "adorable" and "that will cost you $6.45 
please".

I am often out in public just craving some misplaced sympathy. I am a huge fan of misplaced sympathy by the way, but regular old sympathy works too if the misplaced sympathy cannot be located on such short notice. I will also accept sympathy or empathy if you insist, and I can even be convinced to receive solely pity if it is accompanied by some chocolate cake or free chalk.

In the evenings, I wrap myself up in the softest of linens and sleep like the baby I am. 

After years of hard work and research, my teaching style finally resembles that of an absent minded professor who has spent a little too much time in the gorilla habitat at the local wildlife enclosure.

There is only so much neck I can handle at one time.