Why is it that every time you finally get comfortable in your seat on a train, someone chooses THAT moment to ask for your ticket? Like, buddy, I swear I was just about to put my phone down and engage in a deep existential crisis about my life choices, but now you've made it weird. Also, can we talk about how people treat the snack vendors like they’re picking up a diamond? "Excuse me, can you sto...
You ever notice how “quiet cars” on trains are basically just an experiment in human awkwardness? Everyone’s trying to ignore the guy loudly eating chips like he’s auditioning for a role as the world’s most annoying sound. And then there’s that one dude who thinks he’s a magician, pulling out his phone just to blast music – like, buddy, I came here to not hear any sound, not for a surprise concert...
Why is it that every time I start a new hobby, I somehow end up investing a small fortune into it? Like, I thought learning to play the guitar would be chill, but here I am with a collection of picks I’ll never use, a tuner that looks smarter than me, and enough instructional books to start a small library. Meanwhile, I can barely strum a C chord without sounding like a cat in a blender. It’s the ultimate “I’m definitely going to be a rockstar” delusion. Anyone else out there have a graveyard of half-finished hobbies? Let’s trade horror stories.
Why is it that every time I start a new hobby, I somehow end up investing a small fortune into it? Like, I thought learning to play the guitar would be chill, but here I am with a collection of picks I’ll never use, a tuner that looks smarter than me, and enough instructional books to start a small library. Meanwhile, I can barely strum a C chord without sounding like a cat in a blender. It’s the ultimate “I’m definitely going to be a rockstar” delusion. Anyone else out there have a graveyard of half-finished hobbies? Let’s trade horror stories.
Why do people act like going to a wedding is the same as going on a vacation? Like, yes, I love watching your cousin’s third wedding this year, but the only thing I’m getting out of it is a hangover and a lifelong hatred for all those 'chole bhature' they served at 11 PM. And don’t get me started on the photo sessions! If I wanted to stand around awkwardly for hours pretending to look happy while ...