I’m a little bit concerned.
I could just be sitting in front of the TV when, without warning, the twitching begins. Usually it’s isolated to a tiny spherical area of my arm or my leg or my neck or my calves. It vibrates and twitches and I sit there watching it intently. The longer I watch it, the longer it continues to twitch. And sometimes, without warning, a fellow twitcher joins in from the other side of my body.
And while some people talk about having this problem, all this twitching can’t be normal.
It’s probably a word I’d have to really get used to if I was a confetti nose sneezer: you know the type of person I’m talking about, right? The kind that, every time they sneeze, multi-colored flecks of paper go shooting out and up into the air around said confetti nose sneezer? The kind of person who is always a distraction at funerals and corporate retreats and important stock holder meetings? The kind of person who, while their allergies are acting up, is also like a party waiting to happen?
Man. If only that was me.
Look us in the eyes and you’ll know we’re telling the truth.
It seems that lately, posts that once were new and at the top of this page, have continued to live a long and healthy life in a place called “the archives” as more and more netizens search for the subjects that haunt their daily lives. Yet, ironic and heart-warming all at the same time is the fact that this blog is better than your own psychologist in helping you work through your issues.
Finally, WFME makes a contribution to society’s ills.
I can never get a really good, nice, solid clap goin’ on.
For years I used to sit next to people at baseball games and piano recitals and a slew of other public events where clapping was a necessity and wondered why other people could clap louder, with more force, and just generally had a better sounding clap than I did.
Then I found out my left hand was bigger than my right hand.
No, fear isn’t a strong word to describe how I feel.
It’s just that every time you and I seem to have a conversation, I hear more than your voice blahblahblah-ing away and I hear more than my voice blahblahblah-ing back. I hear more than the birds in the trees and the crickets in the brush. I hear more than the general hum of society humhumhum-ing away ambiguously in the background.
I hear your nose — and it’s making music.
Yes, what IS music? It is a question that crosses the boundaries of countries, the color of skin, it bridges gaps between waring tribes and communicates emotion and passion and creative vision to all the people of the world…