Friday, December 29, 2006
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Oh, what's this? Bread! Hot bread on a cutting board with a knife in it and a little dish of butter! Oh yeah! Hey, what about bread for the rest of the table? Because I'm eating this by myself. Ha ha! I'm kidding. Ok, I'm not.
Mmmmmmmm. Oh god. This bread is incredible. Firm crust surrounding the soft pliable sourdough center. And if that isn't enough, it's so hot that even though the butter is cold and solid, it's just consuming it into it's center, bread and butter wrapping themselves around each other until I can't tell where one starts and the other ends. Forget what John Coltrane says; THIS is A Love Supreme! You might as well take away my menu. I'm perfectly happy just eating this bread. Seriously, I don't need a meal now that I've had this bread. Can you bring out two or three or eleven more loaves and a child's wading pool full of butter please? While you're doing that, I'm going to figure out a way to shrink myself so I can climb inside one of these hot loaves and just live in it forever. Sell my car and all my possessions, I'm quitting my job and devoting my life to this bread. Ha ha! I'm kidding. Ok, I'm not.
What's this? Cheese fries? Look at the size of that platter! There must be eight pounds of potatoes there, all covered with melted cheddar cheese and chunks of bacon. What's that? The cheese and bacon are layered throughout and not just spread over the top? Why, that must mean that every single bite, right down to the last one, will have as much cheesy, bacony goodness as the first. I must try this! What? Wait? For what? Are you serious? Ranch dressing to dip into?? Oh come on, you have to stop. This can not be legal! There's going to be a raid because you are exceeding legal limitations of deliciousness and we're all going to jail!
Oh! Oh god. Oh god oh! That is good. Good god oh god good oh, that is good!! I have just forgotten every religious belief and spiritual tenet upon which I have based my life, because this is HEAVEN!! It's like The Rapture has arrived...right in the middle of my mouth!
Listen, could you do me a favor? Do you think maybe you could clear some of this away? What? Oh yeah, especially the bread. I am definitely done with that. Get that crap out of here. Throw it in the trash, feed it to some ducks or whatever you want. I can't stand to look at the stuff. Hold on a sec, ok? I just need a minute here. Listen, bread. Don't take this so hard. You were there when I needed you, you got me through a rough time in my life and I sincerely appreciate that. But I think this relationship has peaked and it's best that we both move on. There are still salads, at least another round of drinks and, of course, eventually some steaks coming. While you have to go on and, I don't know, become croutons I guess. Come on, now. Don't pretend you didn't see this coming. We're from different worlds, you and I. For instance, I came here in a Ford Escape and you arrived on a small cutting board with a knife sticking out of you. Long-term committed relationships just don't begin that way. I know it's hard but over time you'll realize I'm right and this is what's best. For both of us. Ha ha! I'm kidding. Ok, I'm not.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
PS: Did you know you'll find more pictures of hot girls in skimpy red outfits by doing a Google image search for "Santa's little helper" than "hot girls in skimpy red outfits"? It's true!
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
"SHA_E AND SHA_E AL_ _E" showing on the board
Monday, December 18, 2006
Sunday, December 10, 2006
I guess going for the creepy angle has been a viable marketing strategy for some time now, what with Verizon's 'can you hear me now?' guy, the non-threatening-yet-still-off-putting Jared from Subway and the little girl with the elephant who rehapsodizes about "the mirrors!" in the DLP commercials (who I believe was last seen holding hands with her also-murdered twin sister and accosting a toddler riding his Big Wheel in the hallway of the Overlook Hotel). But no company has embraced creepy like the Burger King people.
Of course, there's the ubiquitous King himself, whether inserting himself in football highlights or showing up in someone's bedroom or just standing there and silently leering, he's everywhere, hoping his silent plasticine presence will make you want to buy hamburgers. If that's not enough, they also have...
The Whopper Family, with a series of commercials featuring a hamburger father (the Whopper) in constant generational conflict with his hamburger son (Whopper Jr.), highlighted by lines like "I will knock your buns into next week, fella!". Dysfunctional = delicious!
The lascivious motivational speaker Dr. Angus who, like the King, has what looks like molded plastic hair and a Meg Ryanesque perma-smile grafted on to his face. He gropes women while extolling the virtues of better living through hamburgers. Yum!
The office drones whose job, I guess, is to insult each other and eat lunch at Burger King every day, since that's all they do. It's just like the show "The Office", only not funny and with hamburgers.
Look, Burger King, you were, are and always will be the White Sox to McDonald's Cubs; the second most popular team in a two team town, no matter what, even when you produce a better product. I know you're trying for some kind of edgy, off kilter, quirky alterna-credibility with the kids but I just don't think it's going to work. You're a multi-national fast food corporation. Named "Burger King". How edgy can you possibly ever hope to be when your corporate mission statement, to be recognized as the king of burgers, is so clearly stated? Answer: not very. So accept the fact that you're #2. People, including kids, love you and your food. Second place money is still pretty good isn't it? And stop using your advertising to give me the heebie jeebies. Thanks.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Monday, November 27, 2006
Thursday, November 23, 2006
DOWNSIDE: You don't really need a free meal, do you? Honestly?
Every city has at least one church that provides service to the homeless and really goes all out during the holidays. Here in Tampa, it's Metropolitan Ministries. WARNING: One thing Christians and Atheists agree on is that taking free food from a church when you're not in need is an automatic ticket to hell. Even Jews, Muslims and people of other faiths who don't believe in hell agree as well.
UPSIDE: They're open
DOWNSIDE: It's Denny's
Denny's offers a traditional style roast turkey dinner for $9.99 with turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, salad and a slice of pumpkin pie. After dinner, feel free to stay for hours and hours, drinking coffee and muttering to yourself.
UPSIDE: Virtually limitless
DOWNSIDE: There is no downside to the Waffle House
Ok, a slight quibble, if not a total drawback is that Waffle House's holiday special is country ham & eggs. I know some weirdos eat ham instead of turkey on the holidays so okay. But everybody knows that eggs are only holiday fare during Easter. Compensating for this is the fact that it's only $6.49. You go, Waffle House!
ANY CHINESE RESTAURANT
UPSIDE: You know what you're getting and you know they'll be open
DOWNSIDE: Not exactly standard holiday atmosphere
Like snowflakes, no two Chinese restaurants are identical, yet they are all exactly the same. Same menu, same prices (very few items on the menu over $10), same paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling. That's why we love them so much; they're incredibly dependable. McDonalds and Chinese restaurants are the only places in the world where you can go in and order your meal and know exactly what it is going to taste like before you get it. The other day, I saw a banner over a the door of a Chinese restaurant that said "NEW!". Impossible. There is no such thing as "new" Chinese food. What, did they fry the rice? Did they mix the sweet and the sour together? Did they come up with some crazy new zodiac with monkeys, dogs and dragons instead of scorpios and cancers? Please. Like cures for diseases, all the Chinese dishes there will ever be have already been invented.
PS: I know someone who refers to a nearby strip mall as "The Tampa Bay Asian Cultural Center" because there's a Chinese restaurant, a dry cleaner and a nail salon. That isn't very nice and he does not deserve delicious Crab Rangoons.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
It was awesome.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Nah, me neither.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
It started with getting off work at 6, being picked up in a limo at 6:30 (I have truly amazing friends, for which I am eternally grateful, limos or no limos) and having downed at least three margaritas by 6:45. They say that you should not drink as a means of dealing with stress. "They" being those who don't drink for any reason whatsoever and look down on you for doing so. Because I'm here to tell you that I was severly stressed at 5:59 and completely relaxed by 6:46. Okay, that may have had more than a little to do with whose company I was in by that time but still. The margaritas were delicious. In fact, I believe that getting drunk with close friends and attending an event with other drunks is not only far more socially acceptable than just normal every day getting drunk, it can actually be downright therapeutic in certain circumstances. I am living testimony thereof.
Now, before you ask, "did he play (insert the name of any Jimmy Buffett song you have ever heard here)?", the answer is well...yeah! he played it. He played all of 'em. There are some things you just know without having ever experiencing them first-hand. Such as the fact that giving birth must be an utterly horriffic experience or that Jimmy Buffett is going to play all his hits. Jimy Buffett music is like funk for white people in that the music had everybody dancing, or at least kind of moving around somewhat rythmically, and nobody cared. Not that the music even matters. It's all about the atmosphere and the experience of going. Who knew 20,000 people wasted out of their gourds on some substance or another could be so much fun? It probably wouldn't be if not for the fact that every single one of them (us) had the same agenda; to relax and forget about the mundane-yet-stressful, tedious-yet-harrowing, day-to-day crap for a little while, which is what entertainment at it's best should do for people. Well, except for the guy who took exception to me inviting myself aboard his party bus to use his restroom facilities after the show. Whatever, tightass.
At any rate, I don't know if I qualify as a full-fledged Parrothead, since I doubt that I'll ever spend money on a Jimmy Buffett album, but I will be in line the next time concert tickets go on sale.
Friday, November 17, 2006
1. What time is it? 9:10pm
2. Name: Clark Brooks
3. What are you most afraid of? Ducklings
4. What do you drive? ’98 Piece
5. Have you ever seen a ghost? Nope
6. Where were you born? Benton Harbor , MI
7. Ever been to Alaska ? Nope
8. Ever been toilet papering rolling in decorating trees? Nope. Yes. Wait. Um, Huh? May I have the question repeated in English, please?
9. Croutons or Bacon bits? Bacrons
10. Favorite day of the week? Friday
11. Favorite restaurant: McDonalds
12. Favorite Flower: Raisins
13. Favorite sport to watch: Curling
14. Favorite Drink: Orange juice
15. Favorite Ice cream: Jalapeanut Toffee Mocha Berry Crunch Swirl
16. Disney or Warner Brothers: Warner…but I’m warming up to Disney
17. Favorite fast food restaurant: McDonald’s RULES ALL!!
18. What color is your bedroom carpet? Grey
19. How many times you failed your driver's test? None
20. Before this one, from whom did you get your last e-mail from? Some Nigerian who is trying to give me $20 million dollars
21. What do you do most often when you are bored? Ferment
22. Bedtime: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
23. Who will respond to email first? The Nigerian who is trying to give me $20 million dollars, if he’s serious about wanting my PIN number
24. Who is the person you sent this to that is least likely to respond? The Nigerian who is trying to give me $20 million dollars. Those guys never write back.
25. Who is the person that you are most curious to see their responses: The Nigerian who is trying to give me $20 million dollars. I could use that money.
26. Favorite TV show : The Office, The Daily Show
27. Ford or chevy? Chevy Chase as Gerald Ford
28. What are you listening to right now? The voices who tell me it’s a good night to pick up hitchhikers
29. What are your favorite colors? I don’t ‘do’ colors, man. I’m more of a textural person.
30. How many tattoos do you have? Nope
31. Do you have any pets? I own a vast collection of giraffes, which I keep in various zoos, preserves and free range areas around the world.
32. How many people are you sending this e-mail to? 10
Sunday, November 12, 2006
- Latka Gravas (Andy Kaufman)
- Inspector Jacques Clouseau (Peter Sellers)
- Borat (Sacha Baron Cohen)
- Austin Powers (Mike Myers)
- The Festrunk Brothers (Steve Martin & Dan Aykroyd)
Top Five Major League Sports Team Names That Sound Like They Were Invented For Some Shitty Movie About Sports
- Houston Texans
- Washington Nationals
- Tennessee Titans
- Baltimore Ravens
- Washington Wizards
(Note: Anaheim Ducks [nee Mighty Ducks of Anaheim] is not included because it was invented for a shitty movie about sports)
Top 5 Names Most Likely To Belong To Jerks
(I have only ever met, like, two guys named Gary who are not jerks)
Top 5 Formerly Huge Movie Stars Who Are Now Considered, At Best, Clowns, Because Of Things They Have Said And/Or Done In Their Personal Lives
- Tom Cruise
- Mel Gibson
- Arnold Schwarzenegger
- Kevin Costner
- Sylvester Stallone
Top 5 Celebrities I'd Be Willing To Bet Are Surlier In Real Life Than They Seem On TV
- John Madden
- Jay Leno
- George Foreman
- John Travolta
- Adam Sandler
Top 5 Celebrities I'd Be Willing To Bet Are Just As Surly In Real Life As They Seem On TV
- Harrison Ford
- David Letterman
- Barbra Streisand
- Mike Tyson
Top 5 Celebrities Who Have Absolutely No Business Being Famous
- Paris Hilton
- Jimmy Fallon
- Simon Cowell
- Anna Kournikova
- Kathy Griffith
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Here's what happened at T.E.A.M. training tonight...
TEACHER: Ok, class we're just about to wrap up and I think it's gone really well. I hope you all are able to take something from this two hours that you will remember for many, many years. I want to thank those of you who took part in T.E.A.M. extracurricular activities, such as T.E.A.M. student senate, the T.E.A.M. yearbook staff, T.E.A.M. model UN and of course the T.E.A.M. basketball team. Go team! Err, I mean T.E.A.M. If you didn't you're just cheating yourself. Anyway, before we begin the final exam, let me remind you of the story I told you earlier about the little girl who was injured by the drunk driver and how it cost the establishment where that driver was overserved $135 million.
TEACHER: Yes, it's a tragic story, Kevin.
KEVIN: I wanna get hit by a drunk driver too!
TEACHER: Well, it is a lot of money, but she'll never grow up to be the dancer she dreamed she would.
KEVIN: Sheeit, neither will I. But I don't have $135 million either.
TEACHER: Yes. Well. Ok, that's nice. Does anybody want to review anything else before we begin? Like some of the visual signs that someone is inebriated?
CARL: Like laughin' at shit?
TEACHER: Well, yes, sometimes. But laughter on it's own doesn't necessarily indicate...
CARL: AH, HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!
TEACHER: Ok, that's enough, Carl. That's enough, everyone. Turn your test booklets over and write your name in the blank box at the top. Below that, use your number 2 pencil to fill in the corresponsing bubbles with letters in them. Then, turn to the inside...
LINDA: Teacher, I filled in the word "TEAM" in the little letter bubbles. Do I get a A and can I go now?
TEACHER: No, Linda, that's not what you're supposed to do. And besides, you spelled "TEAM" wrong. There's no R in it.
LINDA: That's not a R. That's a F.
TEACHER: Here's another test booklet, Linda.
WAYNE: Teacher, I don't got to take this test. I'm in a wheelchair.
KEVIN: Aw, you just mad 'cause you didn't get $135 million and you ain't gonna grow up to be a dancer too.
TEACHER: Now, hold on every...
LINDA: That little girl should go get her some bionics with that money. Then she could be the best dancer ever and also run 60 miles an hour and be incredibly strong.
WAYNE: Yeah, but they wouldn't let her in the Olympics because it's illegal to use special effects and shit.
CARL: You're so stupid. Damn!
WAYNE: I will cut you, Carl. I swear for God!
TEACHER: Damn it, I hate teaching classes to the executive team.
Friday, November 03, 2006
With working the hours I have been, and what little spare time I have left being spent opening all the unsolicited naked pictures that women keep sending me (I guess they're using this site to reach me, which you can too, if you're a woman who wants to send me your naked pictures. Unsolicited, of course), I've just been too damn busy to write. But it's been two week since I posted anything and I'm feeling a little pent-up, so I thought I'd better put something up here....just to see if it still works. I'll post more soon.
Further complicating things is my inability to come home from work and just jump into bed and go to sleep. Can't do it. Too fidgety, too wired, too amped up to do that. I guess that's why everybody says I should do cocaine! Oh wait, that's why everybody tells me I shouldn't do cocaine. DON'T do cocaine, Clark. Right! That's what they always tell me. Drug free is the way to be, kids. You know it's true because it rhymes. A sure way to tell if advice is good is if it rhymes.
School is cool.
Guns are no fun.
Sex is bad.
See? In the pudding is the proof, Ruth.
Anyway, I'm exhausted, a little loopy and too wired to sleep. What are you doing? Give me a call and we can talk about these naked pictures you sent me.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Although, I do have to say, to some degree, I appreciate any object whose purpose and instructions for use are so clearly defined in it's name. I mean, if you say "bulldozer" or "oven mitt" to someone, it is possible that they may need some explanation of what you're talking about and how it works. That's not a concern with BUTT PLUGS. Simply say the words "BUTT PLUG" to someone and they should instantly have a pretty clear idea of what is going to happen and where it's going to take place ("Why?" may be a question that needs to be addressed at some point, though that's not important for what we're discussing here). I do appreciate that absence of ambiguity.
But (and by 'but' I mean 'however', not 'ass') with all that being said, I'm going to opt out on this one. So you may feel free to skip the following fine retail establishments from consideration when shopping for gifts for me:
- Butt Plug and Beyond
- Yankee Butt Plug Company
- B. Uttplug's
- ButtPlug Crafters (Custom Butt Plugs in about an hour)
- Butt Plug Depot
- Cinn-A-Butt Plug
- Every Butt Plug's A Dollar!
- Assy McSphincter's Ye Olde Buttpluggery
- The Gap
You're killing me.
You're kidding. I mean, this is a joke, right? You had to know there was a deadline, right? You did? You knew there was a deadline and you still come to me today? Needing this?
You are killing me. Seriously.
Oh no, it's not that I can't get it done. I will get it done. But that doesn't change the fact that you're killing me.
I'm not exaggerating. Your failure to get your orders placed in a timely manner has cast my final fate and death is near. Because you are quite literally killing me.
Gyaah! Sharp pains behind my eyeballs. I'm...I'm getting weak. It's...growing dark. I feel so cold, s-so cold.
Oh, what shall I miss most of all; smelling flowers, watching sunsets, taking a walk in the park, enjoying the sound of soft rain on a summer's evening? Alas, when all of the day's simple pleasures are weighed and measured at one's own sunset, none ranks below another.
Thanks a lot, you asshole.
I'm staring into the endless abyss, where music doesn't play and children don't laugh and sing. Staring back at me is a stack of orders that you could have easily submitted last week. Instead...
You. Are. Killing. Me.
I can't believe this is how it ends. I never imagined my life would be snuffed out just because you don't see the importance of meeting a perfectly reasonable deadline. It all seems so senseless, so meaningless. I'm too young to die. Not now. Not like this!
You're killing me.
What? Yeah, you'll have it by 3:30.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
- Go to work
- Work; Go there
- Be operated on by a deaf, dumb and blind oral surgeon
- Vios con worko
- Harm zoo animals
- Go to the place that pays me money to work and do the work they pay me money for
Monday, October 02, 2006
I'm sick and have been since Saturday.
I don't know what it is, but I've got aches and pains, alternate spikes of chills and fevers, cramps, dehydration, lethargy (more than usual), all punctuated by trips to the bathroom and that dreadful "sklish!" sound you only hear when your digestive system informs you that you and solid foods of any kind are not currently on speaking terms. I don't know what my system is processing, since I basically haven't eaten since Friday, but it's coming up with something somewhere. Maybe my internal organs are liquifying. it kinda feels that way.
It might be the flu but it might also be bad clams (not literally, but close) that I ate at this charity fundraiser function I was at on Friday night. My job requires me to wear a tuxedo two times a year and this was one of them. Incidentally, twice a year is exactly the right amount of infrequency to remember that the little black-headed metal stud things serve some sort of imporant purpose without actually remembering exactly what that might be. The tux was the first step in the downward spiral that the weekend became. I don't mind wearing suits. in fact, I kind of enjoy that. Tuxes are different though. First, there's the whole assemby-required factor mentioned previously. Secondly, nobody outside of Her Majesty's Secret Service actually owns their own tux so they're always rented and there's something more than slightly skeevy about renting clothing, especially clothing that's designed to be worn as many times by as many different people as possible. Add to that a pair of shoes that fit like a prison sentence and I was on my way to not feeling well. That was followed by an evening of conversation with lots of people who normally wouldn't be speaking to me, including one gentleman whose breath bouquet was a charming melange of salami and booze. Then, by the time I actually had a chance to walk across the room in the horrible shoes to the buffet, all that was left was some Starfish Tartare, Squid Pancreas Florentine and a few other room temperature seafood delicacies that even rich people won't eat. However, I was hungry, it was late, I was in a tux with ill-fitting, shiney shoes, so I ate it and that's probably why I'm sick.
But it could be the flu.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Oh, and how I love it. Businessmen, nurses, factory workers, police officers, air traffic controllers, grocery baggers, old ladies waiting for the bus, anybody. I'm a people person and I love meeting new people. And I do that by just walking up to them, bending slightly at the waist, grabbing them in a big hug around the waist and throwing them over my shoulder like a sack of taters before continuing jauntily on my way. It really is just that simple. Often, they pound my back with their little fists or kick their tiny feet or sometimes just flail around furiously, all in futile attempts to make me put them down before I'm good and ready. Sometimes I whistle a happy tune while they screech like suckling baby pigs suddenly taken away from their mother. Because it's important to enjoy your hobby. otherwise, it's just work, am I right?
Let's just put it this way; When I tell a girl I will pick her up for a date at 7:00, that's exactly what happens. I arrive at 7:00 on the dot, pick her up against her will, carry her somewhere nice like a new restaurant she's mentioned she'd like to try or maybe to a movie. Then I put her down and leave. This usually gets me home by 7:45 and I have the whole rest of the evening free. I'm not so sure what time she gets home.
Of course, I understand why people don't enjoy my hobby as much as I do. I know if I were walking down the street, minding my own business and some big asshole just decided to pick me up against my will and carry me across the street and put me down in line at, say, an ice cream store, I'd be darned angry too, in spite of being in the presence of all that delicious ice cream. So I empathize with these people. Honestly, I do! But their anger at me is not going to hamper my enjoyment of something that brings me so much joy and fulfillment. If anything, it enhances it. Sometimes when I do it to my boss, I pick him up from his chair while he's in the middle of a very important business call and I wind up carrying him all the way to the far side of the building. But only because that's how far I have to carry him before he finally promises not to fire me when (if!) I put him down. As you may know, the building I work in is very large indeed so I usually have to take a minute to catch my breath while I watch him scurry like a little toy crab all the way back to his office, cursing my name all the way. Laughing as hard as I do when that happens, it's even harder to catch my breath.
I'll tell you, I think everyone should have such an enriching hobby!
Monday, September 25, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
- 7:30 - Got up (for no real good reason but it would appear I am conditioned) and had the Big Breakfast (omelette, coffee, orange juice, hash browns). The Big Breakfast is something of a Sunday tradition that hasn't happened lately since I've worked every Sunday since the Reagan administration.
- 1:00 - Watched what had to be the worst imaginable start to the Bucs-Panthers game. Chris Simms threw an interception on the second play of the game and Keyshawn Johnson caught a touchdown on the third. After the game, Simms is rushed to the hospital to have his spleen removed. As R said, "Who ruptures their spleen?!? Honestly!"
- 4:00ish - K and I went and moved a couple of small pieces of furniture and boxes around and went through the McDonald's drive-thru to get a couple of Cokes. I saw a worker's compensation poster on the wall inside and said to the cashier, "Hey, wanna hear an interesting story? See that girl on the poster behind you, the one with the cast on her arm? That's my sister. True story! That was her first arm modeling job. Yeah, pretty cool, huh? The bad thing is, there was something wrong with that cast. It's a fake; she didn't really have a broken arm. But she wound up getting a really bad infection from it. Ironically, she actually had to file a worker's comp claim to pay for her hospital bills. No, she doesn't arm model anymore. She doesn't have her arms. But not because of the bad cast. That's another story. Ok, thanks for the Cokes! See ya!". I like to do things like that when I'm with K and R. They act shy and embarrassed, but I think they enjoy it. I love entertaining them more than just about anything in the world. Plus, I feel I enhanced the McDonalds cashier's day a little bit. Just think, she'll be able to tell all her co-workers "Hey, you know that girl on the worker's comp poster? I waited on her brother! Yeah, she has no arms now".
- 7:00ish - Back at K and R's place, we ordered pizza. When the guy came to the door, I wanted either K or R to answer it so I could yell from the living room (in an old man's voice), "Who's at the door? Is it that colored boy who plays the damn records so loud all night? Tell him to stop stealing my mail!". Previous times when we've ordered pizza I have yelled things from the other room like "Get in here and feed me, woman, unless you want another black eye!" and "Mother, is that daddy? Has he returned from the war?!?". But I wound up answering the door, and K and R never misbehave in an attempt to embarrass me like I do them, so nothing funny happened.
I love Sundays. Too bad I work more of them than most members of the clergy.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
- Nobody owns a car, everybody gets free cars! How does that work, you ask? Well let me explain. When you break a car down fundamentally to it's basic, elemental purpose in life, it is nothing more than a machine designed to transport you from Point A to Point B. It wasn't until the marketers got their insidious meathooks on them that cars became toys and symbolic manifestations of our bank accounts and penises. No more. From now on, all cars are government property and will be treated like shopping carts. Millions of government cars, all over the place, free for your use as you see fit! If you need to go somewhere, just hop in whatever one is nearby (the doors won't lock), drive to where you're going and just leave it there. Somebody else will need one and will take it from there. You'll be expected to put your own gas in them, but just think; car payments, carjackings and car alarms are now instantly unpleasant things of the past. I realize cars will accumulate in certain areas, leaving others underserved, but I've already thought that out. Just think of the thousands of new jobs this will create for people who will need to go out, round them up and redistribute them.
- Daylight Savings Time, revised. Daylight Savings Time is a concept that has outlived it's usefullness, now that farmers are automated to the point of having robotic machines that pick cucumbers, pickle them and packed into jars before returning to the barn at the end of the day. So if we're going to keep it at all, let's make it work for us. You'll still be expected to set your clocks ahead one hour in the spring and behind one hour in the fall, but here's the good part: you can do it whenever you want! Feel like getting a head start on Friday afternoon traffic? Spring forward 20 minutes! Miss the first half of Conan? Fall back a half hour! Gonna be late to that appointment with your ball-busting probation officer? Not if you fall back 45 minutes! Wanna skip that meeting with the boss? Go ahead and spring forward a whole hour, you maniac! Of course, other people will be able to counter your Daylight Savings with their own, so the strategic thinkers among us will have the upper hand. But isn't that the way it should be anyway?
- On a related note, another outdated concept is the three month summer break for schools. That was necessary when kids had to pitch in and help out on the farm during the summer months, but that's not the case anymore. Plus, I'm out of school now and don't get three month vacations, so screw you kids. And teachers. Get your asses back into those classrooms and graduate us out some stray car retrievers.
- Currency of the new millenium: Orgasms. Consenting adults should be allowed to use sex to barter for goods and services. I'm not talking about prostitution, where in far too many cases, human beings with virtually no other options are basically slaves to be degraded and exploited by lowlife human parasites. No, I'm just saying that if you find yourself a little short at the end of the month and you and the pizza guy or the lady who cuts your hair can work something out, then by all means, go ahead. Besides, can you honestly think of something nicer to give another person? I can't. I've had people tell me that this concept would bring the world's economy to it's knees...yet, I don't think anybody would mind. Heh heh heh.
- Out of the UN and into the Octagon! Now, I am World Leader (you may call me King. Or just Sir) but I have absolutely no interest in getting involved in the day-to-day of every little turdburg with a flag, so each country is going to need to keep their presidents, shahs, poobahs or whatever. However, I am hereby outlawing war as we know it. So from now on, all global conflicts will be settled by fistfights between the opposing countries respective leaders. Don't like being invaded by the infidel, mongrel race across the border to your north? Then I suggest next time you go to the polls, you spend at least as much time examining the candidates height, weight and reach advantage as you do their stances on free trade. PS: Nobody is allowed to fight me.
There you have it. Completely reasonable and practical solutions to so many of life's problems. No reason we can't get these and other great ideas I'm liable to come up with when I go to bed tonight up and running, just as soon as you promote me to the appropriate position of power. I have every reason to believe that I will be great at this. However, on the off chance that I get in there and it's not working out after a few years, I'd gladly step down and abdicate all power to dogs. Let's face it, we humans have had a nice long run but we have to admit mistakes have been made. And I think the dogs might have some pretty good ideas.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
- When Vanilla Ice's 'Ice Ice Baby' was out, it was on the radio every five minutes and almost twenty years later, everybody still knows all the words to it. Yet nobody owns up to liking it.
- Milli Vanilli won a Grammy, but ask anybody who was around when they were popular and everybody claims they always hated them. The National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences can say what they like about their artistic criteria, but the Grammy is not an award that's given out unless serious revenue is being produced. We all know at least one really talented musician who's better than any 10 recent Grammy winners but until their music is sold at Target and not from the trunk of a car, they are not going to win a Grammy. So somebody had to have liked Milli Vanilli...a lot.
- McDonald's sells them by the BILLIONS but nobody will ever claim the Big Mac is their favorite sandwich, even though you know good and goddamn well that when you're eating one, it's the best thing you ever tasted in your life. Sure, like that weekend where you and your roommate "were kinda drunk and just started fooling around and, well...", you may regret it immediately afterwards, but for the 4 minutes it lasted, you know you were totally into it.
- Everybody wants to murder Barney the purple dinosaur and yet he continues to exist. Like it's actually hard to commit a murder if you really set your mind to it.
- "King Of Queens". Jesus H. Christ!
I wish I was good at naming stuff because I like to be able to attach labels to things that I bitch about. Sure, it's basically just a breed of good old-fashioned hypocrisy, but it needs something stronger and more descriptive. Maybe MASS CONSUMPTIVE REGRETTIVE DENIAL or just FULL-OF-SHITTEDNESS. Now, I'm not saying these things aren't bad. Indeed they are. They're truly terrible, terrible things with little or no redeeming long-term merit whatsoever. But they are/were popular so we need to just get over it and own up already. Come on America, let's celebrate our suck! In poorer countries, people don't have the luxury of deciding how to live their lives on the basis of what does or does not suck. For example, places where having food and shelter would qualify as not sucking and NOT having food and shelter is every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, twice on Thursday , continuing unabated through every single forsaken weekend.
I don't know. Do what you want. As for me, well, I'm going to go eat four Big Macs while watching Barney perform a medley of Vanilla Ice and Milli Vanilli's greatest hits and I don't care who knows it. But I will not watch "King Of Queens". Jesus H. Christ, I hate that show.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
* I like how you're supposed to say "composing a text message". Like you're writing sonnets or something. I know every time I get a text message that says something like "wtf where u @?????? Lol", I wonder how long it took the auteur** to compose it.
** I also like how self-important I am that I think my half-assed blog needs footnotes. I am such an auteur***.
*** I believe auteur is French for "writer with cheese".
Monday, September 11, 2006
Party hats and balloon animals again tomorrow. Today, make some phone calls, hug some people, do what you need to do (but don't be afraid to make those phone calls and get those hugs tomorrow too).
Thursday, September 07, 2006
- First of all, check out the link to "Ten at the Top", a documentary film (currently in production) by Renee Warmack. This is going to be a great project and I'm thrilled to be associated with it in any way possible.
- Secondly, it's all the way at the bottom of the page but it's worth digging through my tripe to find "Cyannide and Happiness". Enjoy!
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
I do find it interesting that they collect the toll before you cross the bridge. It seems like crossing a a five and a half mile-long bridge that rises as high as 193 feet above the water is a risky enough proposition (especially in light of what happened to the old Sunshine Skyway) that payment should be expected upon conclusion of the undertaking, not at the onset. If I make it across a bridge like that alive, I'm more than happy to pay my dollar (unless my intention was actually to not make it across alive, in which case I'm probably going to be sour about having to cough up a buck).
Personally, I believe the great state of Florida is capitalizing on those who aspire to perform The Ultimate Bellyflop, which is either resourceful or crass, depending on your political leanings.