If something is like a Pea – it has a certain pea-ness. If somebody Weens someone else on something they are a ween-er. If you flaunt your impeccable Diction – you are annoying, Aunt Rosemary.

I assume the muffin is the lesbian breakfast of choice. It’s also the sexual activity of choice. The bumper sticker of choice is – Gone Muffin’! Cereal choice? Muffin’, Honey.

At some point you have to settle for the fact that you’ll only hear a certain amount of songs in your lifetime. And one of those songs is definitely by Kriss Kross.

If I’m reincarnated and I have the opportunity to redo my 70th birthday – guess what? No fucking Jager bombs. Okay, maybe one.

I want to copyright the number 911. Every movie I watch will be instantly exciting because I’ll be waiting for them to say “Someone call 911!” and send a fat check my way. If they send a fat chick, however, I’ll be pissed.

Ice Cube, Ice T, and Vanilla Ice all had mega rap careers in the early 90s but are now involved in mainstream television. Ice Cube produces a sitcom for TBS, Ice T is on Law & Order and Vanilla Ice has a home renovation show. This leads us to believe that “Ice” is the secret password to get on TV. That’s why I’m changing my name to Ice Bloop.

Stop staring at my tattoo! The one on my face! Of your face! Cut in half! And bleeding anthropomorphic sperm! Singing the theme song to Facts Of Life! You creepy weirdo!

Some things stop entirely when you become an adult. Like armpit farts, hide and seek, and bathing with your cousins. My cousin Charlie begs to differ. But guess what? I’m not hiding in the bathtub and having armpit fart contests with you anymore, Charlie! Stop calling my house! You’re scaring my mommy.

So there I was… spread eagle in Madagascar..the movie!

It’s unfair that if you have a collection of books, people call it a library but if you have a collection of dildos people call the police.

I hate it when you make fun of someone behind their back and somebody replies, “You wouldn’t say that if so and so were here!” Yeah, and I wouldn’t take a dump in the kiddie pool if my grandma was watching. Again.

Sometimes you see an old man and think, “I wish he were my grandpa!” – because he has an awesome hat and a huge mustache and is not dead.

Your ears and nose keep growing when you get older but what about your penis? I’m going to do a little research and take that old man at the park up on his offer. Hey, even if my hypothesis is wrong…free candy!

Some women don’t realize they’re pregnant and give birth in the toilet. Which would be great if you’re the toilet baby because life is all uphill from there. “Oh no, my girlfriend dumped me for my best friend the same day I lost my job and my house burned down – ah well, it’s still better than being born in the toilet!”

Now that I’m in rehab – I really miss my three best friends. Jim Beam. Jack Daniels. And John Stamos.

Playing golf is like masturbating in the fanciest closet of your house. You’re competing against yourself, the scenery is cozy but at some point you’re going to be cleaning semen with a putter.

Numerologists hate when you talk about numbers outside of work. “Honey, would you like some A1 sauce on your 6oz. steak?” “Shut the fuck up, bitch!”

Children with backpacks are going to school. Adults with backpacks are going to hike. Old people with backpacks are going to need back surgery.

Bread should not have seeds. I want a sandwich – not bird food. Birds don’t eat sandwiches and if they did – I’m sure they’d be made out of bugs. Bird diets are the worst!

Raisinettes should pour all their advertising money into commercials featuring a trio of claymation Motown singers that sing songs about eating themselves. It might be cannabilistic and infringe on some California Raisins copyrights but what the hell? You’re a raisin covered in chocolate.

I figure that negative toothbrushing involves slathering your teeth with chocolate syrup and rubbing it around with one of those sugar sticks you get with Fun Dip. Or just eating a package of Fun Dip.

Sometimes I write rap songs in my head but have no idea how to implement them. Like the other day I kept rapping to myself “I got a girlfriend now so I wear this sweater/Drinkin’ pineapple juice so my jizz tastes better” Man, I should sell that to Snoop Dogg or at least Soulja Boy.

If I was a trapeze artist I would wear a rubber penis on my forehead. That dong would flop around magnificently as I flip through the circus air. Sure, I’ll get fired and banished from Barnum and Baileys when I return to the ground but the children in the big tent that lazy afternoon will never forget Cockflop The Flying Trapeze Artist.

Here are some Creek Of Consciousness ideas or jokes that never amounted to anything. Enjoy.

You know you have a problem socializing when you avoid going on instant messenger to chat with people online.

There is a puddle of barf on the sidewalk near my apartment that is magnificent in size, height and content. It is so chunky it looks like a hearty soup for some lucky stray dog. Doggy Thanksgiving.

I send off each turd by telling the toilet, “That is for you. I’m done carrying it around.”

People are always thinking, burping and making things out of play doh.

Spiders would have a much better chance surviving if they didn’t crawl into my field of vision while I’m alone in the dark at 3am trying to not be terrified.

Alpha corn, beta broccoli, omega potato.

Ceilings are assholes.

Fatman of the dentist.

Most people look forward to events like concerts or sports games. I look forward to lunch.

I bought a Snuggie and it didn’t work at all. I took a dump inside of it and it just made a huge mess! Thanks for nothing, Snuggie.

The next time I leave my apartment without my bike I’m just going to skip along screaming, “Invisible bike! I’m a man riding an invisible bike!” I assume a few people will laugh, most will be frightened and one person will be completely amazed. They’ll probably ask for my autograph – and they’ll get it.

Old people schedule their days around food. Breakfast is concluded by a discussion about Lunch and Lunch leads to Dinner deliberations. The only time old people forget about meals is when the news is on unless there’s some crazy story involving a dinner-related murder at a Bed & Breakfast in Lunchland. Then, shit just gets crazy.

You always hear tales about kids pooping in ball pits at McDonalds but I’ve never actually seen it. And trust me, I spend a lot of time staring at kids in McDonald’s Playpen. Why do you think I’m wearing this ankle bracelet? Because it’s cool? Well, the kids think it’s cool – but their parents don’t!

Today it snowed for the first time all year. So I made a snowball, threw it at a dumpster and went back inside to surf the Internet. This concludes my outdoors activities for the winter.

I got depression from a toilet seat.

There needs to be a TV show called The Scientific Methhead. Basically, it will be like Bill Nye: The Science Guy only the host will be addicted to meth. Oh, the host is still Bill Nye. That guy has a problem.

Dear Jelly Jar, I’m sorry I got peanut butter specks inside you. I was negligent in wiping the knife clean of PB on the bread before I swooped in for some of your fruity goodness. P.S. – I’m pregnant with a fat baby and it’s yours.

I want my headstone to say, “Here lies Kevin – he didn’t understand anything.” People will think I’m trying to be cool or philosophical until they realize my casket is full of jellybeans. Then, they’ll get it.

I was walking to work at dusk when I glanced at a street lamp and it immediately illuminated. It was such perfect timing I felt like I magically turned on the lamp like Sabrina The Teenage Witch. Also, I was wearing a Melissa Joan Hart mask.

These new black shoes seemed sexy but I never thought I’d get action so quickly. I was sitting on a curb today and a tiny black bug kept crawling on my shoes no matter how many times I flicked it off. Yeah, my shoes get allllllll the insect love. Insex.

A blob of jelly fell out of my sandwich and landed on my pants today. Strangely, I was much more upset about the loss of jelly than I was the stain. This is the first sign of being a fatty.

You know how you stay on Facebook all night waiting for an old friend to instant message you but they never do so you eat a pint of Americone Dream and sadly sing TLC songs in your head until you fall asleep in your computer chair? Where my girls at?

When I lost my baby ears, I tried to trick the Ear Fairy. I hid a baby ear underneath my bed instead of the designated pillow location and the Ear Fairy totally fell for it! Unfortunately, I forgot it was there until one day, I was looking for a puzzle piece and found the ear rotten and discolored. Anyway, I tried to call the Ear Fairy and apologize but she just didn’t want to hear it…

If life were a videogame, puberty would be a sidequest, the dentist would be a miniboss and dating would be an instant game over with no continues.

Do you ever get out of the shower and feel clean as the day you were born? Except for all the blood, birthing fluids and gun powder. Well, I still condition my hair with gunpowder once a week but you know what I mean.

I’m going to start ending every sentence with, “This is the word of our Lord” and see how long before someone gets offended. My guess? Twice in normal circumstances and once if I’m hanging with my Priest friends. My Priesties.

You know you live in a city of lazy people when your mailman says good morning at 1pm. Also, he’s on a segway. And wearing a diaper. Y’know? I’m not sure he’s the mailman.

You can’t spell dysfunctional without fun. And you can’t spell pterodactyl without spellcheck.

I cannot imagine a situation where you would need to rent a lamp from Rent-A-Center. Unless, you’re dating the daughter of a lamp mogul and you just moved into your new lampless apartment and you have no money to purchase lamps – but that’s fucking it!

Whenever someone tells me they haven’t been online in a while I’m completely baffled as to how they spent that time. Seriously, what do they do before work? And all night after work? And think about while at work?

If you’re dating your bed, the only way to take it out to eat is if you have breakfast in bed. Which could get confusing if you want to cook breakfast for it the next morning. Basically, you’re eating a lot of breakfast when you’re dating a bed.

Listen, doc – I eat fruit all the time. I dabble jelly on my two-pound peanut butter sandwiches and I occasionally skim the edge of a chip with salsa while I consume a family-size bag of Tostitos. So get off my case and please return the garbage bag I use for a T-shirt.

Do you ever feel like you’re seeing things? Like imaginary bugs or friends or emotionally stable girls?

What’s it called when you mull about in a half-conscious state all day long but by the time 11:30pm rolls around, you’re doing laundry and cleaning your bathroom? Nocturnal? Nah, that’s not it. Crazy! Yeah, that’s the word.

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. The way to an artichoke’s heart is through dip.

It’s safe to say that I will never be comfortable with pooping. For a while I figured that the older I got, the more at ease I’d be with people squeezing sin logs out of their demon holes but I’m pretty sure it’s never going to happen. If I found a genie’s lamp, I’d interrupt Robin William’s stupid song and wish for no more pooping.

Whether you believe in God or evolution or both – one thing I don’t agree with is wieners. If you lift weights, you get stronger and if you eat food you get fatter but if you have lots of sex your wiener doesn’t grow. This means that pornstars will never have actual horse dongs and mankind won’t impregnate horses and breed centaurs. What a waste!

Some hipsters wear fake glasses as a fashion statement and it’s pretty insulting to those who require corrective lenses. Therefore, I propose a new cast-wearing fad in spite of people with broken bones. It will probably annoy people who were born with broken bones and will infuriate those who broke their bones after puberty. Old people with broken bones won’t mind because they’re too busy worrying about their broken bones.

People take anti-depression medication in developed countries but the third world has better medicine. The preferred prescription of the jungle is Tigergonnaeatyourass and the popular pill of the desert is Wherethewaterat?

Some social interactions are so weird they almost become normal. The other day I walked by an old man feeding chickens on his front lawn when a squirrel suddenly ran onto the scene to steal some food. The old man looked at me and said, “Squirrel Vs. Chicken!” and I just looked at him and said, “…Yeah!”

Newspaper headlines can be too specific, such as – “Are You Breastfeeding?” This headline is automatically alienating all the men who cannot breastfeed and a large portion of women too. Sure, I bought that newspaper because I’m currently breastfeeding but that’s only for a role in Junior 2.

Kraft should remarket their Macaroni and Cheese as a sleep aid. After a box of cheese-flavored noodles, I go into an instant coma. No, Kraft, I do not have “the blues” but I do have “the snooze”.

Bluetooth Dog is my million-dollar idea. All I need is a really cute dog and a Bluetooth earpiece. I’m gonna film that little bastard avoiding his regular doggy duties because of really important business calls on his Bluetooth. Look for this show to be on ABC Primetime in a few years.

I like to google-image-search odd phrases and see what kind of weird pictures arrive. It took four pages in a search of “no bones about it” to see boobs! No wieners at all – what’s up, Google?

There are annoying construction workers outside my house that I would love to bribe to leave but all I have in my fridge is jelly. The jar is so small that it’d leave them bloodthirsty. Jelly thirsty.

Everyone thinks energy drinks are a new phenomenon but people have always had them. Coffee has been around for centuries and in the 80′s people drank cocaine.

Why wear one monocle when you can wear two? Because those are called glasses and you should stop telling me what to do, Monopoly Man.

I feel unattached from 90% of what people enjoy. While most people worry about getting laid and having mistake babies – I’m at home contemplating the existence of hand soap and hemorrhoids.

I recently told a friend I paid $500 for a couch and he scoffed despite the fact that he just spent $500 on his dog. I think I prevail in these circumstances unless the couch craps my floor while I’m at work. In which case, that puppy is going right back to the couch shelter. Ikea Pound.

People date at work because everyone is on an even playing field. You can’t refuse to date someone based on his or her job because you have the same job. A garbage man would be stupid to turn down a date with a garbage lady because, hey, garbage sex!

There’s a bumper sticker that states, “I’m already against the next war” and I can’t imagine that. What if dick-snatching aliens from Planet Cocksmash invade Earth and World War Penis breaks out? Will you really be against THAT war, hippie?