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.