The Office TV Show Series on NBC: Creed Thoughts

I didn't get much accomplished at work this week, but that's never something I worry about since time isn't real.

I think I could get into this Funny or Die thing.  It sounds similar to a game we used to play in the cult called, "Truth, Dare or Death."

It's always been hard for me to decide on my favorite season - Spring, Fall, Orange or Cloud.

I tip waiters extremely well: tips on growing tomatoes, tips for Minecraft, tips for Disneyland, tips for a quickie, tips for a zombie apocalypse, tips on juicing, tips for a curvy body... You name it, I got a tip for it.

Today I'm walking a little taller because of my Gǔ lā shēn (bone-stretching surgery).

I'm not sure what's been going on cosmically, but there have been A LOT of freaky coincidences recently.  For example, yesterday I was in the kitchen and so were Pam and Oscar.



People always seem to know it's laundry day when I wear my shower curtain to work.  

Sleepwalking is old news.  Lately I've been sleep belly dancing.  I know this because when I wake up, my obliques are as sore as they were when I was shimmying my way to more sculpted abs in that belly dance fitness class at the high school.  Also, my neighbor saw me.

I've been thinking about getting a new look: more hair.  But not in a place you would think.

All this time I've been telling people I have a Masters in Humanities cause I thought that was just a made-up word.  Turns out it's a legit thing, and now I've gotta give a lecture in Chicago.

This morning I woke up with two thought-provoking questions: "How come my feet are cold?  It's roasting outside," and "can you put socks in the toaster?"

Someone once said, "For hope is but the dream
of those that wake."  Creed once said, "At this very moment, there's a man serving time in jail for a crime I committed."

*Reminder: start an online controversy.  Never look back. 

I've had the same container of dental floss for over four years. Guess I just haven't had too many shoelace emergencies lately...

I may not know how to speak Serbian, but I'm getting pretty good with keyboard shortcuts. For example, Ctrl+Alt+Tab+F6+Escape+insert a CD+F5+water on the spacebar = short out the computer's motherboard.

I really want a new tattoo, but I'm having trouble deciding between an alien abduction mural on my stomach, or the words "sweet pea" on my lower back.  

I've always believed that telling the truth shall set you free. Haha, I'm lying! Lying is way more fun and always will be.

My personal mantra is, "Do I look fat?" Gotcha - lying again! The only other person who knows my personal mantra is dead.

I feel like the biggest sucker in the world. All this time I've been paying MONEY for raisins. Come to find out, raisins are just shriveled up tomatoes.

My downstairs neighbor is a real drag. I'm talking the lamest of the lame. So what if I like to hammer stuff to the floor? Big deal if I play drums with pots! That doesn't make me a "menace." It makes me spunky.

I've got to figure out how I can get my hands on one of those "student loans." I have tons of yard work that needs to be done, and it's the perfect job for a student. So yeah - just need to find somebody to loan me one of them.

I think the craziest thing I've ever found while grave robbing was my brother.

Meredith laughed in my face when I told her I was going back to college to get my degree in exorcism, but who's laughing now that she's possessed by Gary Coleman again?

It's a real shame that you can only wear one sombrero at a time.

Note to self: Don't forget to send out invitations for your snake's fifth birthday party. Tell everyone it's BYOM (bring your own mice).

One man's trash is another man's place to hide out for a while until the police helicopter is done hovering over the block.

Sometimes I wish my dad could look down from Heaven and watch over me proudly. But he can't, because he's still alive.

I think it's pretty offensive to call it a "lazy" eye. It wouldn't kill anybody to take a few minutes and actually figure out where it's looking... This is the '90s. It's time to be a little more courteous.

I've learned that pursuing your dreams isn't always easy. But I will continue to work as hard as I can to become the first Bratton to win the World Mayonnaise Eating Championship.

I had long hair once and somebody called me "ma'am." Can't say I minded it.

It would be really far out if you could change your name depending on your mood.  Today I feel like "Dubstep O'Brien."

My best friend Sancho from the Exxon Station is so hilarious. I walk in after work and tell him all about my day and my cat's heartworm, and he's like, "I don't know you, sir. Please leave." Gets me every time!

Call me old fashioned, but this whole "going to the dentist" racket seems a little overkill. My sharpened cattle bone gets the job done just fine.

Some days I hear a lot of voices in my head. But the one who's a shrink says it's pretty normal, so I haven't done anything about it yet.

I've been writing my Congresswoman for years, but I know she's not getting the letters, cause who in their right mind would ignore several romantic booze cruise date offers from yours truly?  

I hate being recognized in public when I'm not wearing my metallic purple suit and my scorpion necklace.

I never stray from my homemade trail mix recipe, but just once I'd like to try making it with throat lozenges and Skittles...

Note to self: learn to be good at something you love, get confident, THEN meet a woman.