I have been toying with a couple ideas lately. Not for any good reason, I suppose, but as a means to an end that I made up in order to create a means to it. Does that make sense? Cool. Okay, so the first idea will solve the problem of other people. For some unknown reason people like to buy me t-shirts. Especially t-shirts with snarky little phrases on them. What people do not understand is that I don’t like t-shirts with stuff on them. Well, that’s not totally true. I guess what I mean is that I prefer plain cheap regular t-shirts over t-shirts with something written on it. Granted, my All Valley Karate Championship shirt rocks pretty hard, but I would still rather wear a plain white-ish v-neck instead of it. So, herein lies my idea.

My supply of plain shirts is dwindling and my supply of printed shirts is abundant, so instead of buying more plain ones right away, I’m going to wear the printed ones until I destroy them. This way diminishing my shirt population and allowing myself to buy me more plain shirts. I could not do this with a clear conscience knowing that I have a whole stack of shirts that are sitting there collecting dust, while I go out and spend money on shirts just because of a personal preference. That’s just silly.

I am telling you all of this because I don’t you to get it into your head that I am back into wearing t-shirts with stuff printed on them. Please, do not buy me any more shirts.

The other idea I have been piecing together in my head concerns the word “gay”. Like many people today, I have grown accustomed to referring to everything as gay. I drop a piece of ice on the floor and it’s gay. I lock the keys in the truck and it’s gay. Someone buys someone else flowers and it’s gay. The mail man does pick up the package off of the front porch and it’s gay. You get the idea. To some, using the word gay for things like this is offensive. And it should be to anyone who cares about the English language. Gay originally meant lighthearted and carefree. If I were to describe the act of me dropping a piece of ice on the floor as lighthearted and carefree, you would shake you head at me for improperly using the English language. Alas, we all know that people are not saying gay and meaning lighthearted and carefree, we are not total idiots. We are using it in negative way.

So, I have decided to try and break myself of the habit of saying things are gay. Not because I think it is offensive to homosexuals, but because I am improperly using the word. Instead, I have decided to use the word “queer” instead. If I drop a piece of ice, it’s queer. If the mailman does not pick up the packages, it’s queer. If I lock the keys in the truck, it’s queer. Queer, for those of you out there who think it only is word used negatively to describe people who are homosexual, means strange or odd. I like that. Typically the things that we call gay, are not gay at all, they’re queer. My ridiculous obsession with my t-shirt selection, not gay, queer.

Yes, this is what I do in my spare time.

I also make lists of thing that I need to work on. Then I make lists of lists of things to work on. Then once I have about thirty or more lists, I usually make some kind of codex or classification system in order to keep things on the lists in order in my head, thereby negating the list in the first place. It’s queer, I know.

Do you know what is not queer, me having to go to work. It terrifyingly not strange at all. So, with that, I’m off. More soon. ~SC