Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Thanks (I think)

Gratitude can take many faces. And shapes. And cans.

But what I am particularly interested in exploring is the pluralization of gratitude. Let me explain:

Person A (let's call him "Jack") says to Person B (now, let's call her "Jill") a casual, "Thank you for the peppermint." Jack told Jill "thank you." Ok. Let's continue.

Now let's suppose Jack (let's now call him "Edgar") says to Jill (let's keep her as "Jill") on a different occasion: "Thanks." Edgar tells Jill "thanks."

One time - thank you
Another - thanks

Why the pluralization? Was the first time only the offering of one, singular piece of gratitude? And then on the second time, was it a collection, a cluster, if you will, of gratitude? What makes the need to switch these?

Why couldn't you legitimately say, "Thanks you"? Or why couldn't you say, "Thank" after someone gives you their peppermint (or spearmint)?

From here on out I am only going to offer the collection/cluster of gratitude. I feel like you get a little bit more for your words when you pluralize them. (For example, I would much rather have 5 dollars then 1 dollar). So hold me to it.

Thanks you.

Friday, February 20, 2009

You Tell Me (Round Two: Exploration)

Well after your provided period of creative brainstorming, I have made my selection. For this blog, I will be writing about....

Morning Breath (thanks Keely). Help me understand this one, people. You wake up from a nice sleep and for no good reason at all, your mouth smells like the inside of grandpa's shoe. Or a cadaver's opened chest cavity. Or your dog's silent-but-violent after getting into an onion patch.

And this makes no sense. Why does the aroma of your mouth undergo such a radical transformation? Think about this: Before you go to bed, you brush your teeth, leaving your mouth minty fresh (or 'pepperminty,' as some have said). And with this minty mouth, you lay there for 8 hours (on a good night). You don't do anything. You don't get up in the middle of the night and hit the buffet at Golden Corral. You don't gargle tuna juice. You are simply laying there. And after said 8 hours of non-eating, your mouth is now exuding fumes so raunchy that your spouse has to turn aside in horror.

And here's the crazy thing - why does this only happen at night? Why isn't stank-breath summoned in the day time hours? You can go throughout the whole day and not eat anything stanky and your breath is relatively fine by the time bed time rolls around. And you have been eating!! But for some reason, you lay down, don't eat anything, and in a few hours - poof! - stank breath. It's like the cinderella story...backwards. At 10:45 pm, the breath is a beautiful princess. Glistening, clean, pepperminty princess. When the clock strikes 6:30 am the magic leaves and the rot returns. Grandpa's shoes.

Nothing can stop it either. It is a plague. It is a poison. It is a curse. No midnight mints can prevent it. No late night mouth wash can hold its power back. When the alarm clock goes off, the stank will arrive - inexplicably, uncontrollably, irritatingly.

I can only hope that tomorrow things will be different. But I know they won't.

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

You Tell Me (Round One: Invitation)

Here at MattyMattSax Dot Blogspot, aka Matthryn, we are going to try something new. We are going to be innovative, edgy, fresh. We are going to be hip and relevant. We are going to be saucy and spicy. We are going to be liquidish and corporeal.

And here is what that entails:

You tell me.

Exactly. You make a comment on this (very) blog about a particular topic or observation in life that you find amusing. You merely state it in the indicative. No further decorative description is needed. What I mean is this: You state a naked observation and/or topic in the world.

For example, you could comment like this: "People getting too close to my buggy in the checkout line at the grocery store." Or another one might be: "Nose hair." Or perhaps another example could be: "Mustard vs. Mayo." That's it. Don't tell me what you think about this particular topic/observation. Don't vent. Don't spill anguish. Just comment. You tell me.

After a week of compiling these observations/topics, I will pick what I find to be the most "blog-worthy" and then fill you in on what I, yes I, think about it in a subsequent blog. (Does this sound selfish? Like I get to make up the rules to a game that only I can play? Yes, this sounds just like that.)

So....what do you think? You tell me.