Links to Previous entries can be found HERE
Class of July 2011:
Bakeries
Why the hell not? If I dated a girl who smelled like a bakery, she could treat me so horribly for an incredibly long time and I would always have "she smells so awesome" on the top of the "Pros" column for her. I may not be super lovey dovey guy, but as far as I'm concerned, that counts for a lot.
(I know she's a bitch...but she smells like Gingerbread. We'll make it work)
It's not just what bakeries do to the inside of your nose that earns them a spot in the I.I.H.O.F. after all, it takes a lot more than that to make it in (you hear that cocaine? You one trick pony!). Bakeries are also ridiculously colorful places that are full of wonder. It is very pleasing to the eyes, which also goes a long way. Case in point, do you think anyone has ever been happy after eating one of these or thought it was a good life decision?
(Woman, this ends badly for you)
But every time I see one of those things, it makes me want to eat it. For some reason, I believe it will make me happy, which is ridiculous. I know in my heart that it will probably...stop my heart, but much like the inside of a bakery, it's enough to have that desire to eat everything without going through the pain of actually eating everything. It's just nice to be around a bunch of cupcakes and shit, you know?
(See this guy? His wife just left him and took the dog. But man, look at those cupcakes!)
Another reason I like bakeries and will continue to do so uninterrupted forever is that I enjoy making decisions about things I can justify to myself that I deserve. In reality, I don't deserve anything. No treats, no special surprises, nada. I don't contribute nearly enough to society to warrant me "cutting off a piece" for ol' j.Bowman. However, when I'm in a bakery, and I know I probably shouldn't buy those cinnamon buns, for some reason I'm able to justify it to myself that "you know what? fuck it. I'm awesome, and I deserve some goddamn cinnamon buns...and cupcakes...and that gingerbread man there....and what the hell, I'll take that fruit flan too. Yeah!"
Bakeries do wonders for the confidence before I realize that I went overboard and now I'm fat. Oh well, regardless, I love 'em. Welcome to the hall.
Quarters
When do you need a quarter? Always.
BOOM! Hall of Fame!
The Snooze Button
If everyone had a hall of fame for pointless everyday shit that they love, this would be in everybody's. I can't say it any better than the picture. "Keep the dream alive". Ya damn right! I always set my alarm like an hour before I have to get up, so me and the ol' snooze button and get some 1 on 1 time in the morning. There is a great feeling about being resposible, but allowing yourself some time first to just say "fuck it". When you are having a great dream (if you anything like me, god help you, it involves the zombie apocalypse) and you're in that state of conciousness where you are somewhat aware that you are dreaming so you just go for it and live it up in the dream without fear or consequence, you don't want to be disturbed. What happens?
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!
(I was just about to get laid in my dream. And she was hot. DAMMIT!)
There is no feeling quite like looking over at that clock, realizing you don't have to be up until 6:02 and just giving it a good smack for butting in on your dream. Balanced breakfasts can go fuck themselves. Smacking the snooze button and earning myself 10 more minutes of sleep 6 times is THE ONLY way I wanna start my day.
("I had a dream...but I didn't get to finish it because the alarm went off so...yeah")
Japan, being the crazy lunatics that they are over there (love ya Japan, just playing) have decided it's an awesome idea to have an alarm clock snooze function that requires you to wake up and shoot it. I don't want to get into the habit of being roused from a sleep and immediately looking to shoot something making noise nearby. It would put me on the fast track to being a terrible parent.
("My alarm clock sounds like a crying baby. At least it did before I...oh shit")
Spray on Sunscreen
I am a pale guy. I make no secret of that. Over time I have grown to accept it. My mother's Irish genes have given me things to be proud of (ability to drink lots of whiskey and appreciate the music of The Corrs) and things to not be so proub of (freckles, red facial hair and alibaster skin that burns way too easily). From a young age I learned that if I don't put on sunscreen, I shouldn't go outside. This was before XBOX 360 and the Internet so I really had no choice. Sunscreen was a must. However, I have ALWAYS hated the smell of it, but also the "gloop" and "glorp"-titude that comes along with applying regular sunscreen lotion.
Now it's okay if someone is applying it on you (or vice versa) and the odds of somebody "glooping" your "glorp" later on increases (that may have been the most disgusting innuendo ever). However applying it to yourself is just gross and kinda wrong. It can get on your clothes and ruin them, which is never good. And depending on how fair skin you are, you have to just slop and slather that shit on you, which of course makes you glisten and appear even whiter. As if such a thing is possible. Here is a picture of me shirtless after I've just applied sunscreen lotion:
(For those j.Bowman trivia nuts, yes I actually do have a single long silver chesthair)
I don't want to discuss how long it took me to do that picture or how I really strived for accuracy. You ever work the MS Paint custom color editor to try and match your nipple color perfectly? It's fucking hard, man!
Sunsets
Let me ask you a question. When was the last time you saw a sunset (a legit one, not a cloudy one) and thought to yourself "Man, you know that sunset looks kinda shitty"?
Never. You have never said that about a sunset. Nobody has. Ever. Sunsets are almost always good unless you are in the process of being stabbed to death while watching one. And even then it still makes things sort of okay.
("The red hue kinda of matches my gaping abdominal wound")
Sunsets are as inoffensive as puppies who never have to poo. They are just awesome to look at all the time. And it's basically a foolproof romance test. Fellas, ladies, shims, let me tell you something: If you are watching a sunset with someone, and you are unable to cultivate some vibe and touch a part of the other person you haven't touched before, it is NEVER going to happen. And I don't mean touch in like an emotional way. When you see that sun going down, you get your ass on the train to grope city and if there is a delay, get off at the next station (who am I kidding? Nobody is getting off at that point. HIYOOO!). There is no more surefire way to know if something is going to happen then to make a move during a sunset.
Or I guess you could just ask them. But....who does that?
In closing, Sunsets, you are gorgeous and I enjoy looking at you whenever I get a chance. Here is one from one of my favorite spots to be, Third Beach at Stanley Park in Vancouver (yeah, that's the Pacific Ocean, deal with it!)
Welcome to the hall.
So there you have it. Another month closed, another bunch of entries in the Inanimate, Intangible Hall of Fame
Thanks for Reading
- jBfollow @jbowmancouver on Twitter, cause being a leader is not only hard, it's overrated - jB
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