You've Got To Be Kidding

Have you heard about this lady who faked her own abduction? In-freaking-sane. How ugly must her fiance be for her to hop on a Greyhound bus and ride it all the way from Georgia to Las Vegas? People like that should be forced to pass an intelligence test before being allowed to have children. I don't want my kids growing up in a world filled with crazy people like that. Reality TV, I can handle, but this is just plain ridiculous. I see stupidity all around me, and I'm scared. Yesterday, the left lane of northbound I-25 was shut down for several miles- and there was absolutely nothing going on for that entire stretch of road. We saw a single cop sitting in the left lane all by himself, and miles down the road, there was still nothing. No signs, no roadwork, no crash, no cleanup crew. Nothing. It was a terrible time to shut down the only northbound highway in the entire county, but I would have understood if there was at least SOME reason for it! There was none at all. I hate stupid people.

A Trip To The Library

A few days ago, I was in the library. Now, you've got to understand, the public library in Monument, Colorado is mainly just a place to pick up and drop off books that have been placed on hold from other branches around the city. The books they have there, on average, are pretty much the dregs of the system. One book I found there, while I was looking to brush up on my folklore, was called, I kid you not, "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Vampires." No, seriously. I had nothing better to do, so I looked through it. Amazing, simply amazing. Not the book. That was ridiculous. What amazed me was the fact that there seems to be a big enough demographic to justify actually printing that book. Now, since I figure no self-respecting "vampire hunter" would consider himself a "complete idiot" in ANY field ('cause people like that are those hilarious conspiracy theorists who think fluoridation of water is mind control and Bruce Lee didn't actually die, but just retired from movies and is now working as a spy for the Chinese government), there must be a whole OTHER group of people willing to call themselves idiots in order to get the dirt on vampires. Scary. I mean, what happened to the good ol' days when you had to go to your local bookstore with a name like "The Witches' Cauldron" and actually BUY a ridiculous book like that from some guy with a tongue ring named "Oystur?" Not... that I would... know anything about that. That system worked well to keep the nerds in our society at bay. They left us alone, and in return we produced a new "Star Trek" series every few years. Everything was fine until the library started carrying books like "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Vampires," and then it just blew up in our faces. Shame on you, Pikes Peak Library District. You've now made it THAT much harder to walk down the street and not trip over a nerd. They're taking over.

Speeders Cannot Be Justifiably Ticketed

Now, I know this is quite incendiary, and it probably sounds way out there, but bear with me.

I don't think people who commit mini-crimes such as littering, speeding, jaywalking, etc should be punished at all. If a cop happens upon a grisly murder scene, and he doesn't see a killer just hangin' around, he doesn't just say, "Well, too bad for this poor woman. She obviously got murdered, but since I didn't catch the killer red handed, there's pretty much nothing I can do about it. Case closed." I'd like to think he'd be fired for something like that. Why, then, should the process for any other crime look like that? The only way a speeder gets in trouble is if he's literally caught in the act of speeding. Likewise for jaywalking and littering. If anyone ever called the police complaining that they saw some guy speeding, the cops pretty much wouldn't care at all. What I'm saying is until every single person who speeds receives a ticket, none should. We shouldn't be running a society in which the law enforcement officials have the prerogative to pick and choose which criminals should and shouldn't be punished. A crime is a crime is a crime, isn't it? Not to today's cops. It's only a crime if their shift isn't almost over and it won't take too much effort to write up the paperwork. We need a major reformation in our law enforcement tactics. Otherwise, we're living in a police state run by walking talking piles of donut batter armed with nothing more than their own laziness and a really really big flashlight.

Just FYI

For the record, if you're ever sitting in an interpersonal communication class, and the professor asks the class for examples of things to say that will open up conversation with a stranger, and you just blurt out, "I can do one hundred pushups in twenty minutes!" don't expect the professor to get the reference or even laugh. In fact, she may look at you really weird, then just try to ignore everything that happened in the last ten seconds. Not that I'd know... It's just some advice I thought I'd pass on, totally WITHOUT the benefit of firsthand experience. It just makes sense, you know?

Duh Vinci Code

I literally JUST finished Dan Brown's bestseller, "The Da Vinci Code," and I have to say, I've never been more torn. It was obviously an engaging read, because I went through the entire book, cover to cover, in four days. On the other hand, it's really hard to recommend it to anyone. One of my favorite lines from "I, Robot" is when Will Smith yells at that psychologist chick, "You have got to be the dumbest smart person I've ever met!" That's exactly what I would say to Robert Langdon, the protagonist of "The Da Vinci Code." Never before have I read a book about so many smart people who make so many ridiculous decisions. Brown isn't exactly a master of subtlety. In fact, I doubt the man knows the meaning of the word. He broadcasts every minute plot twist about 40 pages before "the big reveal," then makes his mentally handicapped characters revel in the new knowledge, even though "obvious" is far to weak a word for how easily predictable all these twists are. Then again, the lure of a plot filled with intrigue surrounding an ancient secret society actually does well to mask the glaring deficiencies in Brown's prose. He undoubtedly researched this novel like nobody's business. It's just that the research gets cobbled together into a hundred different conspiracy theories and vague references like, "he was known to have ties to many secret circles," and "it was teeming with pagan symbolism." Apparently, a circle is a glaring reference to pagan gods and the "sacred feminine" and absolutely nothing else. So, if you don't mind being treated like an idiot for about 550 pages, then you should read "The Da Vinci Code." If you do, then you're like me, and you'll find your intelligence being insulted at a rate of about once per chapter. You get used to it, but it might not be worth it. Personally, I couldn't help feeling that I'd read it before. Then, about twenty pages into it, I realized I had. Frankly, I liked it better the first time, when it was called "Angels & Demons." I would highly recommend reading that novel instead and just skipping "The Da Vinci Code" altogether.

Spuds

OK, here's my latest scheme. I want to start a resaturant that serves nothing but potatoes. Well, I guess not NOTHING but potatoes, but everything we'd serve would have potatoes in it. Stuffed potatoes, mashed potatoes, twice-baked potatoes, potato bread, potato vodka, all manners of potato soup, etc. It would be awesome. Don't even try to say that's a bad idea. You know you'd want to go. We'd call it Spuds. I would eat there every day. Sometimes twice. We would also have potato-shaped chairs, lampshades, and cups. I'm also thinking that there might be a way to make the menus out of potato skin paper. I got the idea from a place called Sweet Tomatoes. It's a meat-free salad bar. Oh, and by the way, it SUCKS. I can't think of a place I'd rather NOT go to eat than Sweet Tomatoes. I mean, no meat? Are they crazy? I'd go to a restaurant called Buckets of Crap before I'd set foot inside a Sweet Tomatoes. Spuds, on the other hand... I mean, what's not to like about a potato? YOu can put potatoes in ANYTHING, and it would be good. Mashed potatoes and steak? Awesome. Roasted potatoes and fish? Kick-ass. Potato chips and a sandwich? Sweet. Potato skin appetizers? Nothing better. Potato ice cream? I don't know, but I bet it's better than sex. Potatoes and Twinkies? Might as well be heaven. Potato lasagna? Fantastic. Latkes? Kill yourself, because nothing on this earth will give you more satisfaction. Potatoes and Lucky Charms? Can you say Nirvana? No matter how you slice it, potatoes rock. I'd take potatoes over any of you in a heartbeat.

Sorry, Despite What You've Heard...

"The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" is actually a comedy. It was written as a satire. I can't tell you how sick I am of new incarnations of the story being told as if it were a horror story. It's not. "Sleepy Hollow," while by no means a bad movie, wasn't true to Irving's original intent at all. Nor was the Disney cartoon, or the inumerable stage performances of it I've seen. They're all horror stories. Washington Irving intended the story as satire, but the commentary has been lost in translation more times than Britney Spears has "lost" her virginity (I mean, come on, Britney; how dumb do you think we are?) Making a scary movie based on "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" is the artistic equivalent of making Monty Python's "Dead Parrot sketch" into a dramatic, hard-hitting, gritty, human interest art film. Just let it be, man. You don't have to update everything. You know, some stuff was actually good enough the first time around. I don't hear too many people saying Beethoven's Fifth was "alright for how old it is."

How Cool Is That?

I recently found out that a link to my blog shows up when you do a yahoo search for "gun toting nascar Jesus." Don't believe me? Check it out for yourselves. Man, I never would have thought... Well, I actually think it's pretty funny. The only way I know this is because someone actually came to the blog from that search string. They were probably looking for a reference to "Gun-Toting, NASCAR-Driving Jesus," a character on "Late Night with Conan O'Brien." The search turned up a link to my blog, and THEY ACTUALLY CLICKED ON IT! How awesome is that? Well, I'll tell you how awesome it is. Very. There's no telling what kind of weird searches will turn up a link to my blog. Mainly, I think that's because I write about the most random stuff that just pops into my head. In fact... that gives me an idea. Let's see if I can boost my hits by padding this post with words that are searched a lot. Ben Affleck Jennifer Garner Michael Jackson trial gas prices Benedict XVI Desperate Housewives. OK, I think that should do it.

The Nielsen Box

I'm pretty sure I don't know a single person who has one of these things. If you don't know what I'm talking about, the Nielsen ratings for television are provided based on the number of people in America who have a Nielsen box connected to their tv who are watching a particular program. The only problem is, I'm not so sure anyone actually HAS a box, or at least people who watch good tv. My theory is strengthened by the fact that "The Simple Life" is in the middle of its third season while a brilliant show like "The Office" only has one more show slated to air this season, which, by the way, might end up being the series finale. I just want to know if anyone out there reading this either has or knows someone who has a Nielsen box. They tell us the viewership of the top twenty shows in the paper every week, and every show is obviously in the millions or tens of millions. That means there have to be at least several thousand people scattered evenly across all demographics, and that would lead me to believe that I should know at least ONE person who has a Nielsen box. As far as I know, I don't. I think they're full of crap, personally. There's like ten people in a basement somewhere watching endless amounts of tv and making educated guesses as to how many people are watching each show. Yeah. Why not?

Still Got It

I recently saw "Sahara." Not too bad, really. I seemed to like it in spite of itself. A trained monkey could have directed the action scenes better, and the acting made Chad Michael Murray look like Tom Hanks, but it was still fun to watch for some reason. Anyway, there was a joke in there that stuck in my memory, not necessarily because it was funny, but because of the reaction it received in the theater. Let me back up. When you attend a public university, eventually you develop an attitude that everyone around you is a hardcore liberal. Now, that assumption may be completely wrong as soon as you set foot off campus, but for the most part the assumption is completely right, provided you're on campus. I seem to forget just how conservative the Colorado Springs area really is. OK, I told you that to tell you this... In "Sahara," Dirk Pitt says to his good friend Al, "What would you do if you found out you were the worst polluter in the history of mankind?" to which Al replies, "I don't know... run for president?" Although I didn't laugh, I have to admit, I thought the reference was fairly clever. Inaccurate, misguided, and meanspirited, but clever. What I thought was amazing, though, was the utter silence in the audience that followed the joke. There was literally a single man out of about 450 who laughed, and he only laughed once, then he seemed to realize he was alone, and cut it off. We've been tricked into thinking that liberals are EVERYWHERE, and that conservatives are a dying breed. Not so, my friends. You want to know who your real friends are? Easy. Tell a liberal joke.

I Just Wanted Some Twinkies

Last night, I went through a whole 35-minute ordeal just to get some freakin' Twinkies. I was at the grocery store because I needed pomade and I wanted some Twinkies and Sierra Mist (I know, and I'm still skinny. Sweet.) Anyway, I decided to pay for it with a check card because, well, I didn't have any cash on me. As some of you may know, the check card gets its name because, while you can use like a credit card, it takes the money from your checking account. You're welcome. So, anyway, I needed a receipt so I would know how much to take out when I balance my checkbook. The receipt printer was broken at the self-checkout register I used, so I walked up to the completely unnecessary stooge whose job it is to watch all the registers... you know, just in case someone tries to seal those mylar balloons or something. I told her I wanted a receipt. She told me ok. Then, she told me she couldn't because the woman behind me in line had already started processing her order. I was literally in the process of telling her that it wasn't that big a deal and I thought I remembered how much the total was anyway when she called over a manager. He'd help me, she said. I told him that I wanted a receipt, and he looked at me kinda funny, as if it were completely irregular for a retail customer to actually ask for a receipt. He went to the back room to print out a receipt from one of their high-tech sophisticated text-based-os computers. Twenty minutes later, I kid you not, he finally emerged, though I noticed he was conspicuously empty-handed. He said, "Was that purchase made on a card? I'll need to see it. The computer won't let me in without a card number." Fine," I said. I didn't even care anymore at this point, but I didn't want to leave without a receipt after all this, so I gave him my card. Again, I waited. Nearly fifteen more minutes passed before I saw him again, and he came out with this old school perforated printer paper that had my purchases on it. He said, "Sorry it took so long." I looked at the receipt and saw that my initial guess as to the total had been exactly right. I replied, "Oh, that's ok. It wasn't even that big a deal, anyway." The look on his face told me he wanted nothing more than to, as Colm Meaney might say, crush my larynx with his boot. I initially felt bad for putting the guy through all that, but the feeling quickly dissipated. As soon as I'd walked out the door, I couldn't stop laughing. All that for some lousy Twinkies.

Typecasting

I've learned how to easily predict what kind of character certain actors are going to play. They're not necessarily what you'd call full-fledged typecasts, but you can still tell what kind of personality the character will have.

Willem Dafoe: Rogue general. If you've got a movie in which there must be a cold and calculating villain, most likely military, then Mr Dafoe is your man.

Tom Hanks: Everyman. You want a regular guy who's just going to play a regular guy, look no further than Tom Hanks.

William H. Macy: Misunderstood guy who is constantly getting pushed around by EVERYONE.

Tommy Lee Jones: Military (or ex-military) hard-ass who's got something to prove.

Sean Penn: A guy who appears to have had his sense of humor surgically removed.

Tom Cruise: Guy who likes to pretend that he's blissfully ignorant of his own good looks, though he plainly depends on them regularly.

John C. Reilly: See William H. Macy.

Chris Rock: Wisecracking street-wise goofball who takes nothing seriously.

Will Ferrell: Incredibly immature and/or bigotted man.

Vince Vaughn: Sarcastic jerk who still appears to exude an inexplicable charm and attracts the ladies like moths to a flame.

Ben Stiller: Guy who gets pissed at the drop of a hat.

Keanu Reeves: Keanu Reeves.

Kate Hudson: Annoying bitch with no depth to her character and no reasonable explanation for why she has a boyfriend.

Harrison Ford: Man who, for one reason or another, is pissed at the world, ALL THE TIME.

I could go on and on, but you get the idea. There are some actors who really do defy categorization, but they're few and far between, and I can't really think of any names at the moment.

CPK

We went out to dinner a California Pizza Kitchen, and it was hilarious. People are so funny. There was this kid screaming his head off for roughly the entire time we were sitting down. I got so I didn't even hear it anymore. I don't think that's a good thing, though. What if I learn to tune out my newborn child's cries when I first become a father? That could be very dangerous. I didn't, however, tune EVERYTHING out. As I was finishing up my pizza (California Club- very good), I distinctly heard a father yell out in an extraodinarily loud voice, "Oh, God! He crapped himself!" Apparently, he was talking about his infant son, who'd had a bit of an accident. I almost choked on my pizza.

15,000-17,000

Some things get stuck in my head, and I can't sleep until I come to a final conclusion about them. The title of this post is the result of almost a full night's worth of worrying. It's a calculation. That's my educated guess as to the number of times I've heard the f-bomb in my lifetime. Can you believe that? Tell me, what's so bad about a word when I can honestly say I've heard it more than probably a quarter of all the words in my vocabulary? It's losing its punch. Most people hear it and don't think twice about it. I don't think "desensitized" is quite the right word, but it's close. Pretty soon, no one will give a flying f*** what anybody else says. It's sad, really. There was a time when words meant something. Nowadays, best friends call each other... well, you've got a good imagination. The point is, we seem to be nearing a period in which we've begun to talk ourselves to death. This is the so-called "Information age," where knowledge about something is possibly more valuable than the thing itself (I guess it's that "Give a man a fish...teach a man to fish..." philosophy). We've reached a point where information is so prevalent, it's going to slowly become meaningless once again. Though, this time, it won't be because of apathy, but because of a new desire for peace and quiet through forced ignorance. I know more things about more things than a lot of people, but I don't use that knowledge, because I just want to have a few minutes where I'm not thinking about 7-10 things at once. I never really shut my brain off, even when I watch tv. It's annoying, because I find myself cursed with an overabundance of knowledge. I just want to sit back, relax, and force myself not to think about anything for an hour or so. I haven't had a quiet period like that for as long as I can remember. I sincerely doubt it can actually be done, but we'll see. I'll let you know.

Emeril Lagasse Is A Certifiable Moron

I hate that guy. Always with the smug look on his face and the stupid "BAM! BAM!" all the time and the fact that my belly button can cook better than him... It all adds up. The worst part is, he's always "letting the audience in on" his moronic "tips." But they're not tips!! They're just the things you do when you cook. He thinks he's imparting immense gifts of culinary mastery to the rest of the world, when in fact, he's just telling people things they should have learned from their moms when they were nine years old. Truly, he is the Noam Chomsky of food. "Now, here's a trick I learned about boiling water: generally, the water has to be pretty hot." "When you're slicing carrots into sticks, make sure you cut vertically down the carrot, or you won't get very good sticks." "Now, you're gonna want to chill it in the icebox... that's a refrigerator." I heard that last one about twenty minutes ago. It's what inspired this post. Worse than the fact that the joke makes Bob Hope seem funny by comparison is that the audience obliged Emeril with a really sincere laugh. So, maybe my problem isn't with Emeril himself, but actually with the mongoloid desperate housewives and brain-dead metrosexuals whose Neilson boxes keep that guy on the air.

Out Of Control

Today, I realized that my constant criticism of others is truly out of control. As I was waiting for my brother's track practice to end, I saw an androgynous youth walk right by my car. I'm fairly certain it was a boy, but it was really hard to tell at first. Then, I found myself saying (out loud, but to myself) "That has got to be the single homeliest person I've ever seen, bar none." I swear I actually said that. It was then that I realized I have a problem. Consequently, I'm pleased to announce my enrollment in insultaholics anonymous (get it? 'Cause I'm addicted to insultahol). Well, either that, or I'm going to apply for a writing position at Mad TV. I'll probably flip a coin.

Ever Worry That Heaven Will Be Too Crowded?

I ask ridiculous questions. That's just what I do. I also say some things out loud that probably shouldn't have even been thought, let alone articulated and said. The title of this post is an example of some of the things I say on a regular basis. Here are some more of them:

"Do you think animal blood tastes different from human blood? What if it's a cold-blooded animal?"

"What exactly would the DA charge me with if I were to walk over there and light that guy on fire?"

"How hard would you have to swing a pool cue to break it over someone's back?"

"Can you be gruntled?"

"Look at all these people who are here to cheer FOR the Rockies. I think my IQ just dropped ten points." (I said that one waaay too loudly. I'm glad we left early, or I probably would have been jumped.)

"If you're a cannibal, and you eat a Chinese person, will you get hungry an hour later? But what if he just ate a huge steak before you ate him?"

"NASCAR isn't a sport. The drivers should be called 'profesional ass-groove makers.'" (Apparently, there was a major NASCAR fan in the room.)

"You know, I invented music videos. No, seriously. Before that, MTV just played commercials. I just said, 'Hey! Make a music video!' And they did. And it was awesome."

"Why does everyone with Down Syndrome have that same haircut? Is there some rule I don't know about or something?"

Those kinds of things get said every day when you're around me. They also get said when you're not around me. You just don't hear them.

...From An Unexpected Source

God reveals truth in countless different ways. I don't know how many people know what I'm talking about, but one of my favorite shows EVER is Oz. For those of you who haven't heard of this masterpiece of storytelling, no, it's not about the continuing adventures of Dorothy and her little Munchkin friends. It's a no-holds-barred prison drama that leaves nothing to the imagination. If you haven't heard of it, that's because it was on HBO for its six-year run. There's a great rotating ensemble cast, excellent directing, and by far the best writing I've ever seen on a show (the cast is constantly rotating because characters are constantly getting shanked, beat-the-hell-up, lethally injected, and transferred to other cell blocks). Anyway, one of my favorite characters is the crazy yet disturbingly articulate Muslim radical, Kareem Said. He's my favorite because he harbors the most potential for starting a riot or otherwise shaking up the prison staff. Another trademark of his character is the constant flow of axioms he exudes to his fellow Muslims. One I heard in an episode from the second season really touched me. It went a little something like this: "God doesn't need you to defend him from a moron." When I heard that, I immediately wrote it down. All too often in my day-to-day life, I get the sudden and nearly overwhelming urge to rip into someone for their rash and careless display of complete ignorance of Christian theology (they aren't all pre-Christians, either; some 'believers' are ignorant, too). I forget that God is so powerful, He doesn't need me to defend Him from a moron. My job is to reflect Christ to the unbeliever, not beat the truth into him/her. Jesus didn't do that. God's bigger than any bully or ignorant entertainer; it is I who must learn to deal with them. Just goes to show you: you never know what God will use to teach you a lesson next.

Ms Wheelchair

Thank God my parents brought this to my attention. It's the funniest thing you've ever read. Apparently, the title of "Ms Wheelchair Wisconsin" was given to the second runner-up in the pageant because the woman who initially won was caught standing up in a photo. Now, the Ms Wheelchair America pageant people are crazy pissed because Wisconsin has essentially said that there's some sort of limit on the amount of "wheelchair bound-ness" one must have in order to win the pageant. The original winner, Janeal Lee, who suffers from muscular dystrophy, was seen in a recent photo standing up, so the pageant organizers said she wasn't disabled enough and stripped her of her crown. The only problem is, (well, beside the fact that they're simply idiots) since it was a photograph and not a live video clip, they really have no idea if she has the ability to walk. You see, morons, even if a person can stand up, that fact offers no guarantee that he/she can also walk. Guess what, you insensitive jerks; people who can stand perfectly still may very well need a wheelchair to get around. The prize, besides the title, tiara, and sash, was a scooter. I think that makes it even worse, because she'd finally got this awesome new way to get from place to place, and then they took it from her. Before, she didn't really know exactly what she was missing, but now, I bet she's devastated. I mean, that's like giving me a really cool car for a couple weeks, then taking it away and forcing me to use a bike. How "disabled" is "disabled enough?" They're definitely sending the wrong message.

Speed Limits... Psh!

Two days ago, I saw more cops on the road than I think I've ever seen in a single day before. I watched three people get pulled over, and saw four more police motorcycles, all within a three-block radius. It was insane. I was going to see "Sin City" later that day, and I don't live very close to the theater. I'd decided I was going to drive the speed limit the whole way down to the theater. You know what I realized? When you drive the speed limit, you have to add approximately 50% to your ETA. Seriously. I was fully ten minutes later than I normaly would have been, had I driven at a "normal" speed. On my way home, I was fifteen minutes later than usual. I came to the realization that speed limits, and the police who enforce them, really and truly suck. Hey, cops! Why don't you try giving tickets to people who speed through areas that are known for a high occurence of accidents, instead of ticketing people who drive five mph over the speed limit in an area that hasn't had an accident in it since it was built over a year ago? That's not protecting or serving. That's laziness, and society's going down the crapper as a direct result of it. When the antichrist rises, I'm sooo blaming it on a cop.

Now... What Is It You're Addicted To Again?

Here in Colorado, we don't exactly have the sharpest tools in the shed gracing our state with their presence, hence the overwhelming popularity of the Avalanche. Everywhere I go, I see those moronic bumber stickers that say "Avaholic." OK people, I'm officially sick of this. If I were speaking, I'd say this extra slow so I could be sure that everyone listening understands. As is it, you'll just have to trust my word that I'm typing this slowly. When we say that a man is an alcoholic, we mean that he is addicted to alcohol, not alc. The part that goes "...ohol..." is actually part of the root word. When you say that you're an "avaholic," that should mean that you're addicted to avahol. I'm sorry to tell you retards, but there's no such f***ing thing as avahol. Also, before you even ask, there is no such thing as workohol, chocohol, or rage-ahol either (and Kristi, I just read your post, and I wanted to assure that the fact that this coincides with your most recent post is purely coincidental; sorry).

Guess What... You're Not Funny, Jackass

In class yesterday, there was this guy who came in late. As soon as he sat down, he started making really loud observations; making an idiot of himself, really. You know how pretty much everyone has seen certain movies, so they can make jokes about them without explaining them? "It's from a movie. You know the part where..." Like that. Dumb and Dumber, Zoolander, and Meet the Parents are a few of them. This first-class moron simply loved to point out the obvious when someone made a reference to Meet the Parents. You know how it goes. He laughed, then pointed to the person who made the reference and quietly said, "Hehe... Meet the Parents! Awesome." I wanted to stab him in the neck with my pen. Guess what, doofus, you're anti-funny.It's not funny to hear someone else make a witty reference and then simply try to get attention by saying what movie it was from. That guy actually did that same thing two more times in the course of the class. People like that make me wish unsanctioned euthanasia were legal. By the way, I was wondering about this over spring break: What exactly would one get charged for if one was caught setting someone on fire? Attempted murder? What if you just wanted to scare him?

Not Very Nice

I can't believe how mean I can be. There's a deaf guy in my interpersonal communication class. (I know. I think I've already tapped that well of jokes completely dry.) He's not really that smart, either. I honestly believe he graduated from high school just because his teachers were sick of him dragging two interpreters everywhere he went (apparently, that's a two-person job). The guy doesn't know what the word "channel" means. Anyway, today in class, the lecture topic was gender communication. Inevitably, the discussion turned to dating. Lance, the hearing-impaired guy, told everyone that he didn't like "the whole dating thing" and preferred to just hang out with girls as friends and get to know them better that way. He said, "I just think that dating gets too awkward." I can honestly say that I've never had to try harder to control myself. It took all my willpower and then some to not yell out, "Especially when you have to bring an interpreter!" I'm terrible.

Burger King Sucks. Just Get Over It And Die A Quiet, Noble Death.

Burger King is worse than Wendy's and peanutty camel diarrhea combined. They've actually sucked for quite a while, but what put them over the top were those horrible commercials that feature a somewhat disturbing looking "king." I'm honestly freaked out by that thing. Who wants to buy a crappy burger from a low-rent Disney version of a Michael Myers wannabe? It's just plain freaky. "Wake up with the king?" What kind of semi-homoerotic message are they trying to send? Every time Burger King tries to trick people into thinking they're actually better than getting burned alive in the middle of a gran mals seizure, God kills a kitten. It's true. I'd rather be eaten alive by javelinas than watch another Burger King commercial.

No One Is Immune

I recently had my very own "here's your sign" moment. I was at the post office mailing a letter to New Zealand. The lady working behind the counter said to me, "Next time, if you can't make it to the post office, you can just put three 37 cent stamps on the envelope. It'll be a little overkill, but it'll get the job done." Pleased with this new knowledge that if I didn't want to, I wouldn't have to leave my house to mail a letter halfway across the globe, I asked her, "So, would I need to specify 'airmail' or something on the envelope?" She smiled and said to me, "Well, you can if you really want to, but I think the fact that it says 'New Zealand' on it will probably take care of that." So, no one is completely immune to the destructive powers of stupidity. I almost kicked myself in the neck.

Would You Rather...?

As some of you may know, I can be one twisted individual. I like playing this game called "would you rather" with my family. Basically, you just have to come up with two really horrible things that can happen, and then people have to explain their reasoning for why they picked what they did. Now THAT'S family game night. We were playing this recently, and here are some highlights. I hate mayonnaise. No, seriously, I HATE it. So, my sister asked me this one: "Would you rather eat an entire bag of dog food, then throw it up, then eat it again, or eat an entire jar of mayonnaise?" I totally picked the dog food. That's how much I hate mayonnaise. This is one I asked my brother: "Would you rather make out with an ugly girl or kiss a handsome guy?" For all you guys out there, which would you pick? Here's a really sick one I came up with: "Would you rather gouge out both the eyes of someone you loved or one of your own?" You just might surprise yourself with how selfish you really are when you answer this question: "Would you rather go to heaven knowing everyone in your family will go to hell, or go to hell and somehow guarantee that everyone in your family will go to heaven?" Yeah, I know. I'm sick.