Tag Archives: MacGyver

It’s frikkin freezing, Mr Bigglesworth.

Random thoughts which peppered my head today:

The first time I heard about man boobs was on DeGrassi Junior High: “Dad? Kids at school say I’ve got boy boobs!” (Crying) “It’s alright son, it’s gonna be o-kay.

Today, I stubbornly refused to flag down a bus I actually wanted to catch. I have no explanation for this, except that I didn’t want to appear needy.

Sometimes, I wonder how good I’d be in a hostage situation. I hope I’d MacGyver myself outta that puppy but in truth, I’d probably fall apart as if hearing the news Bea Arthur was dead.

I find it odd when people announce intimate details to the room at large: “Guess what everybody? I’ve been diagnosed as clinically obese!” Good to know, fatty.

What’s with the guy who gets on the lift and spends the whole ride watching you? It’s a drive-by stalking and I won’t stand for it.

Wind makes me angry. After venturing out for lunch today, I looked like Keith Richards after an aggressive handshake.

I hate people who follow me. I don’t care if you’re going the same way. Fuck off.

Sometimes my back is so painful, it feels like it’s gonna throw a Christopher Reeve. I wonder if I could ask the chiro to give me a Jennifer Grey evaluation?

I’m training myself to stop raising my eyebrows, it’s my version of Botox.


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