I was in a rap battle on Friday night

where I “listened to instrumentals” in the backseat of a Honda Civic with two white guys named Ben and two black guys named Bruce and Snow Daddy. It was like Bojangles competing with Chik Fil A and Popeyes over best chicken sandwich. Their synopsis was I can rhyme but I can’t rap, and I had worse flow than Jimmy Fallon. I lost handily. This was not an 8 mile scenario. I give the experience a 4/10, would try again.

There are too many monthly subscriptions services, but I’d like GrubHub, Postmates, or Doordash to develop an automated delivery service that brings sandwiches to me at the same time every other week. That’s a much better surprise than a $45.00 charge when the free trial ends. Its way better than when the app delivery person eats half your sandwich and won’t return your calls:

USB Problems

Technology is great, but one chord I’ve had enough of is the USB chord. Has anyone ever plugged the thick side of the USB into the hole right the first time? It’s like trying to have sex while drunk. You need to flip that thing three times just to realize you had it right the first time. And now the news says you can get hacked from borrowing the wrong person’s USB charger. Just like after the drunk sex when you’re exhausted and say “that was great” and the other person is like “yeah, you might have chlamydia.” Be careful what you plug into the box.

Spin Class with Pat Sajak

I have a wheel of fortune wheel I use to make decisions, but it never lands on what I want it to land on. So I took it to a spin class, but the instructor said “the only way to change your fortune in life is by showing up at 7:30 a.m. every Wednesday and getting through these hill exercises.” Exercise bikes used to be a low-key way to get over your hangover in college. Now its a competitive way to listen to someone who can’t handle an office job give semi-motivational life advice. I get plenty of that with podcasts, standup, and Karen the administrative assistant so I’m out on spin class. In on Pat Sajak telling me how to spin.

Checking In on Jack’s Game

Is “lets get lunch sometime” the office equivalent of “please stop talking to me?” A lot of these proposed lunch dates I’ve received are getting canceled. People offer to buy you lunch in the future just so you don’t talk to them in the present. It’s not a bad deal, but it feels an awful lot like when I tour an open room or apartment, can immediately tell that I don’t wanna live there but proceed to go on the rest of the tour before bolting out the front door and saying “I’ll be in touch.”

I was touring rooms with a scriber, and we were struggling to find a place we both liked. Like most of my dilemmas, I discussed this with a female Uber driver who proceeded to tell me “Look, I’m a scorpio so I tell it to people straight. You gotta do what’s best for you, ain’t nobody gonna look out for you but you.”

Since I liked this advice, I doubled down and asked the Uber lady about a girl I met at a bar who wouldn’t give me her phone number but instead let me follow her on Instagram. In following her, I figured out that she was moving to Denver soon and when I ran into her at a karaoke bar before she left she asked “what’s your sign and what time of day you were born?” I’m a Pisces and I made up 8:30 a.m., which according to an app made us 14% compatible or “the lowest score [she] had ever seen.” Scorpio Uber lady confirmed that was some wack shit, and she gave me her phone number either out of pity or because I said she should double as a discount shrink.

Wrap It Up

There may be a one-week hiatus coming up (probably week 13). I don’t have much on my plate but my new boss has noticed my propensity to work on non-work things on Wednesdays so I gotta be more discrete, which is not one of my better skills.

Would you all like one video content in lieu of the newsletter? Let me know.

Until next week,

Wack Crowens