Thoughts, Sittin on the Bus.

I love being from Texas. Hang in there for a moment. I hate living in Texas, I'm glad I moved away. But Texas is a fun place to be FROM, for two main reasons. First, because you can make fun of Texas until judgement day, an that's good times. Second, it's an automatic pass to get away with anything. "She just ate a jelly, nutella, honey and jam triple-decker sandwich. That she deep fried. I'm really worried about her." "No, she's from Texas." "Oh, well that's fine." or "She just shot him!" "Born in Texas." "Oh, that explains it, nevermind." I could do ANYTHING! And everyone would just laugh!

Here's the problem with me walking home from the bus stop. My walking path takes me by a Walgreens and a gas station. Normally, I'd just walk on by, but I just got off work, and I'm tired as all get out, and sometimes it's cold. I'll stop in, just to warm up for a bit, and suddenly I'm in a magical wonderland of stuff that I had no idea I needed, until sleepy brain sees it. "Industrial-grade towels? Why have I been using these shitty normal towels?" "A pack of three hundred and sixty dice? This is so handy! What if I have a lot of people who suddenly want to play yatzee? Sure, I have extra cups, but without dice, we'd just end up throwing cups around! This purchase is an investment in keeping my cups safe!" Makes perfect sense, take my money, goodly cashier attendant!

I have to assume people at the bus stop are super tired, all of the time. There's no other excuse for how dumb they act. "Are you waiting for the bus?" Nope, I'm just sitting in the cold under the sign, waiting for a man with a briefcase. And don't use a stupid question to try and start a conversation. You had to ask three times, as I was disentangling myself from my headphones, just so I could give you a look, and say yes. I'm clearly not looking for someone to chat with.

One day, I will have a police box in my yard. You know what I'm talking about. I'll have a police box in my front yard, and there will be a sign, written in Toilken's elvish, Klingon and dark elvish. That sign will say "Inquire inside for information." I may even translate that into English, because I figure if you can recognize the languages, that's good enough. When they come to my door, I will have assorted Enterprise-shaped cookies prepared, and ask if they play DND. Of COURSE they do. And this is how I will recruit for campaigns when I'm a grown-up.

Speaking of lawn decorations, I also want lawn gnomes. Not a little cute lawn gnome or two. Somewhere around a hundred, big, creepy lawn gnomes (Like the ones from Fable, if you know what I'm talking about). And when I get bored, I will move them around in the middle of the night, so the neighbors wake up to see them in different formations. Occasionally, when I'm feeling particularly ornery, I'll put one or two in different places in other people's yards. When they bring them back, possibly with their newly-broken flamingo, I'll peek out the door, and when I see the gnome, I'll jump with a horrified look on my face. I'll speak in whispers and tell them hurriedly to put him anywhere, and then slam the door. Yes, they'll think I'm completely insane, but you know a part of them will always wonder if those things are evil little monsters from hell.