Random Thought of the Day
How about a thread for disconnected thoughts, or pointless pell-mell quoting. 
We have a word edit filter, but no filter that would stop random thoughts,
nor a filter that would edit assumptions, and correct opinions, which we could really use.
There are so many random thoughts that could be randomly expressed...like;
Wouldn't it be sad to watch a mosquito sucking on a Mummy?
......or shouldn't they make monkeys at the zoo wear sunglasses, so they can't hypnotize you?
We have a word edit filter, but no filter that would stop random thoughts,
nor a filter that would edit assumptions, and correct opinions, which we could really use.
There are so many random thoughts that could be randomly expressed...like;
Wouldn't it be sad to watch a mosquito sucking on a Mummy?
......or shouldn't they make monkeys at the zoo wear sunglasses, so they can't hypnotize you?
Comments
Anytime I see something screech across a room and latch onto someone's neck,
and the person screams and tries to get it off, I have to laugh, because what is that thing?
I bet the main reason the police keep people away from a plane crash is they don't want anybody walking in
and lying down in the crash stuff, then, when somebody comes up,
act like they just woke up and go, \"What the....h-o-l-y crap,,what happened?!\"
One last thought...
I think if you go flying back through time and you see somebody else flying forward into the future,
it might be best to avoid eye contact.
:evil: Then I took a shower, and that's when I decided to start a boycott on shampoo! ...and demand the real poo!
I just wonder if insects will one day rise against us.
That's why I like to aim at bugs when I pee.
I mean...have you ever heard a Bee laughing at you, after he stings you? :evil:
and...I think Flies like to land on fresh poo, then go land on your lips next.
Also, I often believe the bugs on my windshield, didn't expect the windshield, by the angry look on their face. :evil:
:roll: Guess some things are better left unsaid. Or.. Too many random thoughts and they collided and exploded or just one big random thought imploded sucking the rest with it down a black hole.. Mind you none of these are to be taken seriously.. their just random thoughts.. Speaking of such I probably shouldn't share mine cuz they are so infrequent and random :P
Like you said: \"Guess some things are better left unsaid.\", and whatever you said after that, I just said: \"Huh?\"
Now, what were we saying, again?
Oh, now I remember: :?
Or was that better left unsaid?!? :P
Cheese? I thought liked Shania?
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thinking about before you go to sleep. Well...it doesn't work for me. :evil:
I really wanted to have a dream about werewolves, so I planted nothing but werewolf stuff in my head, and nodded off.
All I ended up dreaming about were some stinking sheep, and something about chasing some chickens
...and I had this awful taste in my mouth, I think I had licked my butt. :evil:
Werewolves = K9 family = Ball Licking
Butt Licking = feline family .. you must have been deaming about Pussycats
...unless you've had THE trip to the Vet.
If so...after that, the only pussycats you like are fried.
Anyway, this caused me another random thought;
I wonder if dogs are not allowed on the Space Shuttle, because they would want to stick their head out the window?
Seems to me with all the money we spend on the space program, we could figure something out.
...but I did remember this from one of my Trucking episodes....
I call it;
RestRoom Cell Phone
All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, Trailer tire flat, incompetent dockworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with 24 oz. mug of coffee, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was planning for a Truck Stop to park for the day, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. As I was cruising down the Interstate, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, \"Everything Must Go!\" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the nearest Rest Stop.
I surveyed the five stalls, which were numbered 1 through 5;
1.Occupied
2.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.
3.Poo on seat.
4.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.
5.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall #2.
I trudged back, lined up with the door and backed in, dropped drawers, chocked my heels and sat down. (that's how Truckers drop a load) I'm normally a fairly Shameful ****ter. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. ****ter was blathering to Mrs. ****ter about the ****ty day he had.
I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder in one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently.
Once my butt cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench.
It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial \"herald\" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
\"Oh my God,\" I heard him utter, following it with the suppressed sounds of choking, and then, \"No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??\"
Next door I could hear fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: \"Gotta go... horrible... throw up... in my mouth.... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God...\" followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.
Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by a string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.
After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I haven’t punished a toilet this severely in weeks. My God it was a Guinness Book Grade Rembrandt. This was definitely a 3 or 4 flusher. That’s if it doesn’t over-flow…then you have to just escape and evade.
As I left, I glanced to the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.
I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the restroom.
First... Lamo... Second who would want to? I mean there are very few times that a man or woman have anytime just for themselves...
Uh hi honey.. just stopped to take a sht, made me think of you, so I thought I would call? :shock: guess some relationships work that way..
Even still geez ... Damn the protocal .. Hell when I was on ship short stalls an no doors.. LoL It was basically conversation time! :roll:
Start a new thread tou... Road tales.. Gig or truck related!
Anyway...speaking of farts...that gave me a random thought.
I've never understood why Superman's cover was a reporter for a newspaper
...when he could have been a Dentist with that x-ray vision.
If I could have super powers, I'd like to be ... \"Sound Effects Man\"
[said with hands on hip leaning to the side-like... with a throaty reverb and nasal echo]
I'd go to the Oscars, and when Rosie O'Donnell walked out on stage...I'd make fart sounds
...first starting with tiny pooters with each step...to a whopper of a Barn burner.
[pinch harmonic diaphragm adjustment for large Auditorium, and deep colon chorus for thicker bottom]
I'd go to a Chicago Italian restaurant, and make Police siren, and machine gun sounds... (etc.)
A while back I saw System of a Down playing on Saturday Night Live. When they did \"Aerials\" I thought the song was \"Burials\", and the lyric \"Burials, in the sky...\" made very little sense.
-Rf.
Anyway, I flunked my yearly Mental Illness Evaluation Exam again.
I think the mistake a lot of us make, is thinking the State-appointed shrink is our friend.
But at least thank God for those Bluetooth headsets. Now when I'm caught talking to myself in public, even arguing with myself and really loosing it...and then notice people looking at me in shock ...:shock: I fiddle with the headset and pretend I was in a phone conversation, ending with ...\"okay FINE...Good Day to you Sir...I said ...Good Day!\" :evil:
My Doctor said I'm barking mad, and his Nurse stood closer behind him avoiding eye contact with me. Even the Janitor in the hall dropped his mop, and quickened his pace to another room, and I heard a door lock.
But this gave me reason to wonder about the capacity of random thinking. Why some can have random thoughts naturally, and others like me have to work at it. I just now was trying to have another random thought, but my mind keeps wandering. I thought if you're ever stuck in some thick undergrowth, in your underwear, you shouldn't stop and think of what other words have 'under' in them, because that's probably the first sign of jungle madness. :?
I also had a friend complain about some madness.
What is really maddening, is how the Crows kept calling him, and tormenting him, even when he answered them politely... thought Caw. :roll:
It felt like I was flying...no-no more like falling. It was falling...as I saw this tree coming at me real fast, and then I busted through the tree, breaking and bouncing off branches,
D'OH! D'OH! d'oh-d'oh-D'OH!... I later realized looking back up, this was my family tree. Were the branches breaking my fall...or punishing me?
I then did a belly-flop into the gene pool, and wiggled up onto the sands of random thought, where I reached down and took a grain of sand...any one...randomly, and pondered. I held the grain of sand close to my ear, and could hear the ocean...or was it a Ukulele?
...anyway, now I think I understand how I beat out the other 107,769 sperms. I won't remember any of this later, but I might wonder where all this sand came from.
This quote brought a random thought forward......
That's the problem with the gene pool .... Their aren't any life guards
Does peacock taste like chicken or turkey?
They are dumber than turkey's by far. There were several living on this farm I stayed at in California. Each one got killed on the road out front.
They would just stand there and expect traffic to stop and marvel at how pretty they are...and WHACK! :shock: ....dumbass bird. :?
Well...hard to catch a chicken for the pot...but I bet those peacocks would be easy to hunt.
Just yell \"pretty bird--oh there you are\" and walk up and slap his beak off, and show him his face in a mirror.