Would you like to kiss the mailman?
Wow crazy how they found this recording of me and my best friend performing last weekend (I’m the one in pink):
Thing 1: Pigeon Report
We wake up every morning, never fully aware at what terror waits for us. We live our lives, as normally as we can, despite that the threat of a pigeon attack is a possibility for all of us, literally every day. Every minute. Every second.
Some days the chances are lower but there is ALWAYS a possibility.
And when you are me, America’s number one investigative pigeon reporter, there is always a threat that those in power will try to silence you.
Dear reader, a few weeks ago, that day had come for me. My Boyfriend™ and I were running some errands around Bushwick, being boring bougie people, when out of NOWHERE a pigeon DOVE into my HEAD. I could literally feel his creepy little claws and wings on my head. I screamed and ducked, and I saw my entire career flash before my eyes.
For a moment, I wondered: Was it worth it? Was being America’s consummate pigeon truthteller worth this violence? If I died doing this, how would my family avenge me? Would America go to war with pigeons? I knew in my heart, that I could not respond to this act of pigeon TERRORISM with more violence. If we were to go into a full-ass war with the ass-birds of America, we would simply be creating the next generation of pigeon terrorists.
Instead, I chose peace. I gathered myself, took a deep breath, and continued walking to Key Foods so I could purchase some lactose-free milk. But I shall not be silenced. I will continue to report on pigeons in my free Substack e-newsletter. Caution be damned.
Not all of us are heroes. But that day, I can unequivocally say, I was.
Grade: F!!! I almost died!!!
Thing 2:
I used to think I was the kind of person who was bad at small talk, and in the minority for feeling that way. I would meet someone for the first time at a house party and then end up talking about Charles Dickens for 45 minutes and the next day be consumed by thoughts that I had weirded out that person. However, in recent years it has became common for people to publicly say how bad they are at small talk, how they just want to get to “the serious stuff” or like, “dig in” when they meet people. It is like when everyone said they were so quirky because they hated the word moist. Like, you’re not special for not liking it. None of us like it, it is yucky, but also accurately describes most desserts.
But this approach of “getting serious” fast sort of repulses me. What’s bad about discussing the weather with a coworker in the kitchen? You know what I DON’T want a coworker asking me about? Middle school. The worst breakup I ever had. What kind of medical maladies I suffer from. Have I ever seen an animal suffer? Do you think about killing yourself? I could go on.
So, I think my issue is that I like small talk TOO much. Like, I don’t have any interest in telling a random acquaintance much about myself, but talking about movies, about celebrities, about politics, even religion, that’s easy. That’s just surface level stuff really and can at least lead to some laughs or thought-provoking conversation, and nobody has to think too hard about themselves. People who hate small talk just mean they only want to talk about themselves. Or that they think they’re SO smart, they can’t possibly be caught talking about the latest movie they saw. No, no, they simply feel compelled to ask you about whether you have recurring dreams about kissing your mailman.
Do you know what takes skill and is useful? Small talk. We all are socially anxious, all the time, especially in new situations or with people we don’t know. Being able to maintain a pleasant conversation that doesn’t make someone uncomfortable should be revered. They should teach it to us in high school. Much more useful than when I made a Betty Boop themed PowerPoint for my Bio class.
Thing 3: Are you okay? Checking in on my favorite d-listers
The following sentence was not created by a gay AI bot imbued with my soul, I promise: In an interview on a podcast about health and fitness, Goldie Hawn revealed an alien touched her. Specifically, three aliens visited her in a friend’s car when she was a teenager.
“They touched my face, and it felt like the finger of God. It was the most benevolent, loving feeling. This was powerful. It was filled with light.”
She has further proof because she has had several dreams about aliens and went to a heart shaped crop circle. Look Goldie is a comedy legend, and an absolute treat, so who am I to doubt her or tell her she is absolutely batshit insane. I mean, her own son backs her up, so it must be true!
However, I am curious what any of this had to do with fitness.
Goldie Hawn with a space alien, according to AI.
Answer: No, she is not well, and that is FINE.