Is Alec Baldwin smart? I hope so. His name is perfect as it matches the term Smart Alec or in more correct terms–Smart aleck.
I’m pretty sure Mr. Baldwin is dumb. If he had brains he would have eaten his brother Stephen for sustenance.
I like being a Smart Alec. In fact, it bothers me whenever I’m not. Sometimes I’m thrust into (no, not by Bill Cosby) a situation where I have to be more mature or respectful. I’m also stuck with a mini-brain aneurysm that causes me to respond less like I really think.
Name one thing worse than thinking of a funny smart ass response when it’s already too late. If you said 9/11 then okay you win. You may have even said Bill Cosby and again you win. But for me personally nothing is more painful than a delayed honest smarty pants response.
Walking through the filthy subway today toward my train, I spotted a girl that looked like a more attractive Maggie Gyllenhaal. To be fair, I describe my poop the same way; a more attractive Maggie Gyllenhaal. Bill Cosby knows what I’m talking about. Even he wouldn’t touch her.
This girl stood out because she was seemingly stuck and not in a rush. I on the other hand had a shit brewing in my tummy and a train to release my gas on. I made the mistake of making eye contact, the folly of all men. I noticed her clipboard too and knew she was trouble.
Nobody carries clipboards except for gym coaches and nuns interested in smacking you with them. It’s the flat wooden object of agenda driven assholes and the only thing on earth more likely to rape you other than Bill Cosby.
“I have one quick question for you,” she said.
For me? A question only I could answer? She said for me. This was no question anyone could help her with. This was knowledge that could only be passed from me to her.
“Yeah,” I cleverly remarked while displaying my extensive vocabulary and general kindness to all of those in need.
“Where do you think our drinking water comes from?” she asked while having a vagina.
I didn’t pause. Thankfully I was cold and in a rush. If I had time or she looked better, less like a white girl in college, I may have entertained her longer and eventually said something horrific as I tend to do in situations like these (conversations).
I thought about it briefly then said, “Uhh the sink.”
I said it in such a way too like she didn’t have some money raising pitch to give me. I answered as if she was really curious and wanted to know the answer. I sounded so sure of myself. I didn’t even inflect it like I had any doubt. There was no question mark at the end of my response.
“Thank you have a nice day,” she said as I continued walking without missing a step.
So was I right? Does the water we drink come from the sink? Or are we really just drinking the tears of women Bill Cosby knows?