Buffaloafer

I have been waking up in the night with very random, clarifying thoughts. Like suddenly realizing that an odd last name of a new retail contact at work is the same as the odd street name in a new address of one of our papers. I realize this means nothing to you, but it was like puzzle pieces fitting together at 3:00 am. Last night, Maude Newton, she who blogs about literary stuff, popped into my head for some reason. What I thought was this: could "Maude" be her real name? Could one really be a literary blogger if one's name was, say, Kaitlyn? Of course, one could, but maybe one would change one's name to something more bookish and fitting, like Maude. A Wikipedia check this morning tells me her first name is really Rebecca.

Thank god I'm coming up with shit like this instead of brilliant child care solutions or can't-lose money-making schemes.

You know what makes me mad? Popcicle stick jokes. Most of the time, they're just of the typical bad joke variety, but lately there have been a lot of infuriatingly nonsensical ones. It used to be my least favorite was, "What goes 99, clump, 99, clump?" Because the answer is "A centipede with a wooden leg." But if you think about it, what the hell is 99 supposed to sound like? You can't combine a general number with a descriptive sound and pretend they are the same thing. That my friends is a lazy joke, dependent on the listener to fill-in all the missing parts and laugh based on the idea of a joke.

But now! Now I have a new least favorite: "When is it time to go to the dentist?" Answer on stick: "Tooth thirty." Do you know why I hate this joke? Because they fucked up the punch line. This is a classic joke and the answer is supposed to be "Tooth hurty." Which sounds a lot like 2:30. Har har. It's not a brilliant joke, but it works because it is punny. "Tooth hurty" describes the ailment and reason to go to the dentist, as well as sounding like an actual time of the day you would go to the dentist. "Tooth thirty," on the other hand is nothing. Beyond using the word "tooth," there's zero substance to the joke. Plus, "Tooth thirty" is awkward to say. It makes me want to stab out eyeballs with popsicle sticks, or at the very least call some popsicle stick joke hotline and complain. I'd boycott the product, but can't resist the lure of banana and root beer flavored treats.

I think we've solved the swimming pool problem: my brother's apartment has two pools. I predict much floating this weekend.