Adulthood is not realizing you are not a child. Adulthood is staring into your best friend’s eyes and realizing that they aren’t.

To be an adult one must be both confident and pessimistic.

Pessimism is not believing the glass is half-empty. Pessimism is believing that one day the glass will be empty.

Poculum vacuandum at 1 AM. (So much for intelligence.)

Confidence is not knowing which moves will win nor which moves will lose nor which moves will stalemate. Confidence is knowing what the other player will do. The goals do not change; rather, the positions change, and with them, the way other players will react. Each move bares a new board for a response. Some moves will not be responded to, some will have reaction forced, some can be made only without a response, some require reciprocal action.

To be confident one must be both intelligent and mature.

Maturity is not knowing that one is mature; maturity is knowing that one has been immature. Maturity is the moment of selfconsciousness, of emotional metaawareness. There is probably a correlation with awareness of culture, and of art, and of irony, and of others; or at least some of these. Any correspondence with age is probably coincidental.

Intelligence is knowing when to round down versus up.

The great thing about pizza is that it can be easily transformed into leftover pizza.

Calling not-shotgun.

“First piece of news: my family’s crazy.”
That’s not news.
<simultaneously>“That’s not news.”

Play the Pyramid
A colander.
Cheap Ramen.
Expensive Ramen.
Burned DVD.
A forwarded letter.
An elephant statuette.
Packing peanuts.

[Second round: the judge would have also accepted “You’re in St. Louis?!” for the category “People I’ve run into this week”.]

There’s something almost exotic about Cars, like it a foreign film produced in the country of red states. I found it, despite fitting into none of my interests, nevertheless enjoyable.

After I’m done with my haircut I kill time waiting for the shuttle by looking at new phones at the Sprint store because I’m due for an upgrade. Then I walk to the far shuttle stop, because I feel like hitting the Galleria. As I’m walking by Schnucks I remember the time that I ran into Professor L[] there, and am thinking how hilarious it would be if I again ran into someone. So I turn around- and see K[]! Who gives me a ride to the Galleria. So I get there, and am walking around, and I’m thinking wouldn’t it be hilarious if I again ran into someone. So I turn around- and see Jessica Alba.
You’re lying.
If I had that new phone you’d be looking at her in a brown dress right now.

And then I found my and-then-I-found-my-$10 line.

“Eats, Shoots & Leaves” is an amusing travelogue of punctuation, once you get past the initial apostrophic screed.

I tried to use screedy in conversation, and I got scrabbled.

“There's a lady who's sure...”
Life is a slinky descending an escalator.
“‘Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings...”
The secret to life is to descend a slinky down an escalator.
“Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven...”
I want to descend a slinky down an escalator.
“...my spirit is crying...”
A slinky cannot perpetually descend an escalator.
“...really makes me wonder...”
An escalator cannot perpetually ascend a slinky.
“And a new day will dawn for those who stand long...”
I want an escalator to ascend a slinky.
“And it makes me wonder...”
Life is an escalator ascending a slinky.
“There walks a lady we all know...”
The secret to life is to ascend a slinky down an escalator.
“...To be a rock and not to roll...”

The secret to life is to find something you like doing and to get people to pay you to do it.

Go-to guy for sneaking subversive articles into the school newspaper under the guise of advising incoming freshman.

“Our paper is stupid.”
No, it’s beyond that; it’s retarded little brother. Like, it’s dumb, but you love it anyway.

The only show I’ve watched from the beginning to the end... is Joe Millionaire?
That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.

I do not do creativity that well at 1 AM.

I’m like a neuron. My axon potential either fires or it doesn’t.

Roll a bear check.

This would be one of those things that you always do and I never do, except that I did it. And given how many of these types of things you do, it could very well be something you've already done. So, um, not sure how to classify it, grammatically.

Instant Biographical Soundtrack
Take playlist. Shuffle out 17 songs, randomly assigned to the following events: {Opening Credits, Waking Up, Falling in Love, Fight scene, Breaking up, Getting back together, Secret Love, Life's okay, Mental breakdown, Driving, Flashback, Partying, Happy dance, Regretting, Long night alone, Death scene, Ending credits}.

Why is this still on my playlist?
<next>
No, wait, I take it back. Why is *this* still on my playlist?

Learning the language.

“Some verbs have only a [first] aorist, some only a [second] aorist, and some both. There is no difference whatever in the meaning. Greek only does this because otherwise the language would be too easy to learn.”

“You Failed Your Math Test, Comrade Einstein”, aside from having an intriguing title, explores an interesting topic: religious discrimination in the realm of mathematical education in late Soviet Russia. However, the book itself is too badly edited to be worth reading. Some examples are overexplained; others puzzle the reader from missing context. The sections are thematically discordant; some tangentially exploring the mathematical intricacies of sample problems, others considering the biography of noted dissidents. Worst, however, is that what does overlap is repetitive.

In the future, doublestuff Oreos will be considered regular Oreos, and triplestuff Oreos will take the place of doublestuff Oreos.

"Someone's job is to put the cream in the cookies. How cool is that."
“It’s done by machine.”
“It was once done by a person.”
“It’s always been done by machine.”
“What about Amish Oreos?”

“Japan is in Asia and is a small island nation. France is in Europe. Japan-France would then be a small island nation in Europe-Asia. Coincidentally, Europe and Asia aren't really two separate continents, and combined, they are actually called Eurasia. This is funny because Japan-France is not a real country, but Eurasia is a real continent.”

When will I learn to just shut up and be social?

"You're talking. See to that."
<gasps>
<long>"I respect that."
<shocked>"But he's just taking that from Firefly!"
<considers>"I still respect that."

Meat and greet. If you're reading this and in town, stop by sometime tonight for some lamb stew.

“So I was looking at that sign, and at first I thought it said Kabob Institute.”
If I ever open a kabob place, it’s going to be called Kabob Institute.
“Then I realized it was a hospital, and it said Rehab Institute.”
If I ever run a hospital, it’s going to serve kabobs.

“But if you lose, the devil gets your soul...”

What the devil? (What happened? Who am I?)
Speak of the devil. (Just a coincidence. Nothing special.)
Devil in the details. (The details are irrelevant. Hammer out the details.)
Idle hands are the devil’s tools. (Nailed to the cross. Working at cross purposes.)
Devil gets his day. (One day. Day by day.)
Give the devil his due. (Overdue. Do over.)
Make a deal with the devil. (Misdeal. Deal with it.)
Sell your soul to the devil. (Can’t buy happiness. Can’t go back.)
The devil made me do it. (I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say.)
Better the devil you know. (I don’t know. I don’t know.)

My 6s look like 2s.

Pot purchasing.

“Here’s $10. Can you go in and buy me some Nicorette gum?”

The wettest clothes 60 cents can buy.

“Bad Twin” is disappointing as a mystery; the conclusion is unsatisfying given the buildup. However, the book does feature many allusions and metaallusions to the Lost mythology for a fan to feel obligated to read it. I escaped purchase by utilizing my library perk at the bookstore. Which, like the show Lost, has its own layers of mysteries waiting to be excitingly uncovered.

Ramen is not a social food; it is a meal to be eaten alone, behind closed dining room doors. But what if friends were to happen to gather for an impromptu Ramen banquet, with the taboo whisked aside? Then the shocking details are laid bare, with diners able to observe the methods that others have divergently evolved. Some rely on the addition of liquid; others eschew that in favor of pure noodles. Some adorn with the contents of the opened silver packet; others disdain that artificial oversalinated taste in favor of more natural noodles. This one manipulates chopsticks with their fingers, that one lifts the bowl to their lips; this one spoons, that one forks. Everybody does it; no one ever talks about how.