2.29.2012

Happy Bonus Day


I freaking love BONUS DAY (aka Leap Day). An extra day in my year. An extra 24 hours that science sneaked in to perfect the calendar and give me a 24 hour edge on the normal calendar year.  I heard someone say that it's just a year that makes them another day older.  I say horseballs to that shit. 

BONUS DAY is a freebie.  It's a who-cares-if-I-get-shit-done day.  It's giving the finger to expectations.  It's what my undergrad creative writing TA was talking about when he said,

"Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke."  

It's an extra day to devote to something that makes you happy instead of something that makes you want burn the mutha down.  Because those days jump out at you on any of the 365 days of a normal, non-BONUS year.  But not on day 60 of 366.  Hell no.  You want to devote your day to your work, and not your job?  You want to watch American Idol clips and videos of flying toaster pastry cats?  You want to go on a long run and beat the previous 59 days to a bloody pulp out on the pavement?  You want to catalogue your coworker's feelings on hookers? 

You go right ahead.  This is BONUS DAY, people.  Eat that shit up.

So here's a BONUS DAY deluge.  But read it tomorrow.  Go BONUS the hell out day 60 of 2012.  Do something stupid.  Follow your joy.  Hug a hooker.  


BONUS DAY:


First and foremost, this is what a bonus day is all about, and I am THIRSTY:

BONUS BEER:


LA Beer Fest 2011 from CATJAM Studio on Vimeo.






COWORKER'S RESPONSE TO INQUIRING ABOUT HER TRIP TO HAWAII:

"There were chickens and hookers everywhere. Bonafide. Genuine. Hookers."



BONUS AMERICAN IDOL:

Every once in a while the interwebs remind me why this show exists:






BONUS SONG:






J'S SNACK on BONUS DAY:





Me: Why are there three piles?
J: It's complicated.










BONUS DAY VID:






ps. BONUS QUOTES:

For those that made it this far, Letters of Note has a wonderful letter from John Steinbeck to his editor. In it he says:

"A book is like a man—clever and dull, brave and cowardly, beautiful and ugly. For every flowering thought there will be a page like a wet and mangy mongrel, and for every looping flight a tap on the wing and a reminder that wax cannot hold the feathers firm too near the sun."

And he quotes the prologue of Cervantes Don Quixote, the first writer to flower and fall:

"Idling reader, you may believe me when I tell you that I should have liked this book, which is the child of my brain, to be the fairest, the sprightliest and the cleverest that could be imagined, but I have not been able to contravene the law of nature which would have it that like begets like—"

"May God give you health—and may He be not unmindful of me, as well."

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