Funny Cry Happy Gift

This title refers to a weird Asian Jesus-merchandise-selling bodega-like-thing that was once across the street from Flannery's on 14th St. Alas, it is now gone. I love Jesus. "He's fun, Kad!"

It's best to embrace one's neuroses, I've decided. The relief it brings has no bounds. In a cab last night, I couldn't remember if I'd turned off my Hot Tool (it's a hair-straightening implement, douchies) which put me in a state of panic. Surely my bathroom, a water-laden place, would immediately catch on fire. Should I go home? Would the fire kill all of the wealthy Asians and German tourists residing in Worldwide Plaza? Dear God!

I then heaved a sigh of relief.

"You idiot," I told myself. "You're OCD."

Meaning, of course, I'd already unplugged the Hot Tool and doublechecked it about ten times before leaving my apartment.

In other news, there's this neato device in the can here at my job. It's an air-freshener thing that periodically shoots off a spray of strawberry mist whenever a foul odor hits the air; however, I've noticed it goes off when I'm brushing my teeth with no sign of shit in sight.

My brother has won the prize for the Hottest Williams. It's quite humbling to realize you're not the most attractive member of your family. Upon looking at a pic of my fam, my boss said:

"Oh, that must be your sister."
"Yeah and that's my nephew."
"He's a nugget."
"And that's my brother."
(pause)
"That's your brother? But he's so attractive! I mean, I- oh-well- you-geez- uh . . . I suck cock!" (high pitched giggle).