funny
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“A man may don many garments—some ill-fitting, some absurd—stitched from the words of others. But the cut of one’s true self cannot be tailored by another’s hand.” bb grey-hyde “Dr. J. E. Kyll and Mr. Feels: A Treatise on Overthinking and Emotional Minefields” The hour finds me in contemplation, my mind still burdened by the
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I woke up two hours earlier than usual. If you think there’s nothing to do at 4 AM, try 2 AM. Scrolled through my phone, checked my bank accounts (still disappointing), peeked at the market’s so-called wisdom, and doom-scrolled my Google News feed. Apparently, at some point, I thought following everything Musk was a good
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“If you’re going to give me something, make it a damn good bottle of whiskey and let’s not talk about it.” -Charles Bukowski It begins with an idea. The idea festers, grows. The perfect gift, the one that will make them see you differently, better, deeper. You research. You wander through stores, click through
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I’m obsessed with this keyboard. It’s not just a keyboard—it’s my sparring partner. Typing on it feels like a duel, like it’s daring me to keep up. Unlike those modern, low-profile abominations that feel like typing on a wet napkin, this thing has ‘attitude’. It’s not some passive, limp-wristed keypad. No, this keyboard punches back.
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Good Morning Yesterday was a fiasco that ended with me eating lemon bread in bed. Crumbs are everywhere, a clothes trail from the front door through the living room, bathroom, and finally next to the bed—the order of disrobing exactly opposite of what one might expect. I had bought a pallet of concrete blocks,
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Beep. “Hey, this is Fred. I’m probably out dodging asteroids or something, so leave your message after the beep.” Beep. “Yo, Fred, it’s me. Pick up, dude! Freeeeeddd, oohhh Freeeeeedieeee… Oh, come on, man! Alright, fine. It’s me, give me a shout when you get this. Catch you later, space cowboy.” Believe it or
BB Grey--musings 