I don't even know my own phone number.
I've given my phone number to the weirdest people. I get texts from people all the time.
Intuitively you want some place [such as your phone] to store phone numbers, so you have that part of your brain to do other tasks.
The most important, the longest lasting, the strongest emotional, and the most practiced memories are the ones that are embedded the deepest in the brain, and because we have retrieved them so many times previously, they are the most able to be retrieved. We all hear about people who can remember their youth, their phone number, or street address from 70 years ago, but they cannot recall what they had for breakfast. The memory of this morning's breakfast wasn't rehearsed, and wasn't very important, so it fades away quickly.
You know when a company wants to use letters in their phone number, but often they'll use too many letters? "Call 1-800-I-Really-Enjoy-Brand-New-Carpeting." Too many letters, man, must I dial them all? "Hello? Hold on, man, I'm only on 'Enjoy.' How did you know I was calling? You're good, I can see why they hired you!"
Dream stompers are people who want to stomp on your hopes and dreams. Lose their phone numbers
When I go back to family reunions everybody goes, 'Hey cousin! Hey Auntie!' And I'm like, 'Okay I don't know you, I have no idea who you are.' I am auntie and cousin for so many and even the ones in prison call me collect. And I'll be like, 'Which of my family members are giving you this phone number?'
When I was 15, I left school to start a magazine, and it became a success because I wouldn't take no for an answer. I remember banging on James Baldwin's door to ask for an interview when he came to England. Then I got Jean-Paul Sartre's home phone number and asked him to contribute. If I'd been 30, he might have said no, but I was a 15-year-old with passion and he was charmed. Making money was always just a side product of having a good time and creating things nobody'd seen before.
I gotta work out. I keep saying it all the time. I keep saying I gotta start working out. Its been about two months since I've worked out. And I just don't have the time. Which uh..is odd. Because I have the time to go out to dinner. And uh..and watch TV. And get a bone density test. And uh.. try to figure out what my phone number spells in words.
"Patience, grasshopper," I counseled. "You don't want to seem overeager." "Right, that's why I said tomorrow," he said. "I want to see you again tonight. But I'm willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow." I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious," he said."You don't even know me," I said. I grabbed the book from the center console. "How about I call you when I finish this?""But you don't even have my phone number," he said."I strongly suspect you wrote it in this book."He broke out into that goofy smile. "And you say we don't know each other."
You know what is good about these Dixie Chicks burnings or bashings? It's a wonderful, wonderful way for really stupid people to hook up. They meet, they throw some things on the fire, they talk about Vin Diesel, they tell stories about who their favorite Fox anchor is, they exchange phone numbers and in some cases has led to marriages.
There's always been a lot of information about your activities. Every phone number you dial, every credit-card charge you make. It's long since passed that a typical person doesn't leave footprints.
I once dated a girl that was wild. She was so wild that one night she gave her phone number to the mechanical bull.
Can I add a class? Do you have a problem with letting me audit 8th grade American Civics? Can you get the AP English reading list for me right now? What is this carton of milk? Will you tell me how many calories are in five and half Gummi Bears? Why are there birds in the air right now? Why is the sky so blue? Can I get the home phone number of the school district supervisor? You know I was in Basic Instinct, right?
You've already got a natural glow, kind of of, cuz you're drunk, so just make it like way more intense, everybody loves someone who's so red in the face. Are you embarrassed? No, I'm just excited to be here. I'm normal, I swear. Do you want my phone number?
For me, for the type of addict I am, when I start getting those swirly thoughts and stuff, and they talk about slippery places, slippery people and slippery things, you know, I need to - I needed to take my cell phone and eliminate all the phone numbers, change the phone numbers so no one I knew before could call me or reach me.
How about I call you when I finish this?” “But you don’t even have my phone number,” he said. “I strongly suspect you wrote it in the book.” He broke out into that goofy smile. “A nd you say we don’t know each other.
I said, 'Okay, it's the year 2000, I'm getting a computer and a Palm Pilot.' I know how to check my e-mail, and I've listed some phone numbers on it. Half the time the battery has gone out so I can't use it.
ESPN Zone was probably the coolest thing I could do [making "Hardball"]. But Navy Pier was the other thing. I'd take my bicycle and ride down to Navy Pier and just hang out. Try to get a phone number or something. That was my thing.
Yo, you don't think you're going under? I got a bullet with your name, your address, and your phone number.
I did something rather innovative that my competitors didn't like: I took out a full-page advertisement in the Yellow Pages that listed an office on the east side of Cincinnati, and another office on the west side, while every other heating/air-conditioning company had only one location and one phone number. I was the citywide company. In fact, our 'westside office' was just an answering service taking telephone message. From the start we appeared to be a big company.
It was so big, that view. I’ll never remember it properly. How can anyone remember something that big? I don’t think people’s brains are designed for memories like that. They’re designed for things like phone numbers, or the color of someone’s hair. Not hugeness.
I hear women are posting their phone numbers on the site for you.” Accompanied by sexy videos and photos. Judd’s eyes gleamed. “Not after Brenna hacked the site and plastered a message on their homepage pointing out that I’m very happily mated to a wolf with sharp teeth, razored claws, and a wild case of insane jealousy.” A small smile that was nonetheless, quietly satisfied. “She also uploaded several gruesome photos of feral wolf kills.
I'll give you my phone number. When you worry, call me. I'll make you happy.
I was in L.A. in '08. It was a cold Saturday night. I had spread my phone number out to a score of women and was just indulging this sweet, sad, elegiac, bale loneliness - don't tell me you haven't been there.
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