The other day two coworkers of mine were discussing reincarnation.
"... like if you're good in this life you come back as a human, but if you're bad then you'll come back as a frog?" one of them clarified.
At that moment I considered the papers scattered across my cubicle desk, my two dozen unanswered emails, the work I was having to come in and do this weekend, my bills, my inevitable hour drive home through rush-hour traffic, and the constant threat of nuclear war.
Yup. I can't wait to come back and do all this over again.
Maybe that's why the world is overpopulated. There were a lot of insects and sea creatures doing such kick-ass jobs that they got promoted to human status. But the only real experience they had when they were locusts was destroying crops, so now they just do things like consume large amounts of gasoline and join the Tea Party.
The truth is I love the idea of reincarnation. I'd like to think that I get to come back and try something new. But there's no chance in hell I'm ever coming back as a human, because I'm positive that we got it all backwards. My cats get free food, free shelter, free sand to shit in AND someone to clean it up (occasionally). I think it's safe to say that my cats are enjoying a stress-free life.
I brought this up to the gods recently at our last underground fight club. They all took a look at my report, nodded, and whispered amongst each other before coming to a conclusion. "I think I speak for us all," Vishnu said to me, "when I say... woops."
Together we drew up a new hierarchy of desired incarnations. These are the top ten. You'll notice humans didn't make the list as they are 'desired incarnation number 32,978' just below 'plastic bag'.
10. a dog
9. a great white shark
8. a kangaroo signed up as a last minute replacement in a boxing match
7. a 17th century manuscript about the oppression of robots
6. a venti Mocha Frappucino from Starbucks
5. an original 1973 vinyl copy of The Dark Side of the Moon
4. a rare dolphin born with the ability to spray orange soda from its blow hole
3. a nice set of decorative towels
2. Super Mario
1. a bowl of Capn Crunch
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Bert & Ernie: Another Great Loss for Gay Rights
It came to my attention the other day that the great debate over whether or not Bert and Ernie were to become the first recognized gay puppet couple came to an end.
Despite the myriad petitions and the increasing pressure on PBS, Bert and Ernie were not meant to be a gay couple.
And I said to myself, "Thank puppet God."
Now don't get me wrong. Any of you who know me well know that I am a major defender of gay rights. If a man wants to marry a man, give me a pen. I'll sign your petition and I'll march in your parade. People love who they love and that's that. Let everyone be happy and free.
Except puppets.
I am categorically opposed to gay puppet rights. "For what reason?" you ask. "Puppets deserve equal rights!" you say. Because it goes against what I was raised to believe in the puppet bible when I went to puppet Sunday School.
Our puppet priest pointed out a passage with his puppety fingers in Puppetians 4:28 which read, "One puppet shall not lay down with another puppet, for it is a sin." Then he closed the puppet bible and placed his hand on mine. "But it is not a sin for a human to lay with his puppet priest."
And even though it was about that time that my parents decided we should no longer attend puppet church, that passage resonated with me. So I apologize, puppets. But you shall never have my vote.
Despite the myriad petitions and the increasing pressure on PBS, Bert and Ernie were not meant to be a gay couple.
And I said to myself, "Thank puppet God."
Now don't get me wrong. Any of you who know me well know that I am a major defender of gay rights. If a man wants to marry a man, give me a pen. I'll sign your petition and I'll march in your parade. People love who they love and that's that. Let everyone be happy and free.
Except puppets.
I am categorically opposed to gay puppet rights. "For what reason?" you ask. "Puppets deserve equal rights!" you say. Because it goes against what I was raised to believe in the puppet bible when I went to puppet Sunday School.
Our puppet priest pointed out a passage with his puppety fingers in Puppetians 4:28 which read, "One puppet shall not lay down with another puppet, for it is a sin." Then he closed the puppet bible and placed his hand on mine. "But it is not a sin for a human to lay with his puppet priest."
And even though it was about that time that my parents decided we should no longer attend puppet church, that passage resonated with me. So I apologize, puppets. But you shall never have my vote.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Fantasy Football
I tried fantasy football once.
It didn't work out very well for me.
The other guys in my league might argue that I didn't commit enough time to setting up my team every week. Sheepishly, I told them that I just didn't have the time.
And that was a bold-faced lie.
The truth is that I was led to believe I was playing fantasy football! Are you confused? Yeah, so was I.
I'm sorry, but when I think of "fantasy sports" I don't think of all my favorite football players on one team together playing sports in harmony. That's stupid. They would last ten minutes before their egos destroyed the whole team. It was an unrealistic idea.
You see, when I was told we'd be starting a fantasy football league I concentrated too much on the "fantasy" part. I thought we were going to be meeting every weekend to play football with elves and unicorns.
Choosing teams would have required a lot more consideration than athletic ability.
"I'll taaaaaake... Pegasus."
"What?! You always get Pegasus!"
"Yeah, well, you know why? First of all Pegasus can fly just above your heads and kick you guys in the face with its hooves when you get too close. And second of all I won the coin toss, so man up and accept it, you little bitch."
"Fine. I'll take Cyclops."
"Cyclops? Are you sure?"
"What's wrong with Cyclops?"
"Oh nothing! He's a big guy. He's strong. He's a good pick. I mean, he doesn't have any depth perception so don't expect him to be able to throw or catch a ball, but you know it's your choice. He might not keep getting off-sides called on him again this week. It might be a better week for him."
One can only fantasize about real fantasy football.
It didn't work out very well for me.
The other guys in my league might argue that I didn't commit enough time to setting up my team every week. Sheepishly, I told them that I just didn't have the time.
And that was a bold-faced lie.
The truth is that I was led to believe I was playing fantasy football! Are you confused? Yeah, so was I.
I'm sorry, but when I think of "fantasy sports" I don't think of all my favorite football players on one team together playing sports in harmony. That's stupid. They would last ten minutes before their egos destroyed the whole team. It was an unrealistic idea.
You see, when I was told we'd be starting a fantasy football league I concentrated too much on the "fantasy" part. I thought we were going to be meeting every weekend to play football with elves and unicorns.
Choosing teams would have required a lot more consideration than athletic ability.
"I'll taaaaaake... Pegasus."
"What?! You always get Pegasus!"
"Yeah, well, you know why? First of all Pegasus can fly just above your heads and kick you guys in the face with its hooves when you get too close. And second of all I won the coin toss, so man up and accept it, you little bitch."
"Fine. I'll take Cyclops."
"Cyclops? Are you sure?"
"What's wrong with Cyclops?"
"Oh nothing! He's a big guy. He's strong. He's a good pick. I mean, he doesn't have any depth perception so don't expect him to be able to throw or catch a ball, but you know it's your choice. He might not keep getting off-sides called on him again this week. It might be a better week for him."
One can only fantasize about real fantasy football.
This Blog Brought to You by Pepsi
I don't know about you guys, but I'm getting a little tired of this recession.
However, you won't find me getting angry at the president for not pulling us out of this mess. You won't even find me blaming the House Republicans for filibustering every good idea that comes across their desks so that they have a 2012 political platform. I know... I was as shocked as you must be right now.
Heaven forbid our government, with it's evil socialist police departments and school systems, gets too big and is able to start fixing the problems that people living on food stamps and unemployment benefits keep complaining about.
The biggest problem is that people of every social class are greedy and they don't know how to manage their money. That's it.
And I have a solution that will solve everyone's problems: Corporate Sponsored Catastrophes.
When I first heard that the government was considering having corporate sponsorship of national parks I thought they were losing their minds. I thought they were getting desperate for funds. Then I thought, "Pepsi Presents Hurricane Katrina".
Just think about it. There must be dozens of catastrophes every day! Imagine the amount of money that would be coming in if Nabisco paid the government to get their name on an earthquake. It would be advertising in the form of panic. Everybody wins.
"The people of Los Angeles were awaken this morning by a magnitude 6.5 earthquake. You can see some of the structural damage in the wall of this Oreo factory, which by the way is milk's favorite cookie, that I'm reporting from right now."
People would be watching the news and saying to their families, "My God! The humanity! The Oreo factory?! Do you think the double stuffs were affected? You guys stay here, I'd better get to the store to stock up in case... shit! The neighbors are already running off to Safeway! I'd better take the shotgun."
Hurricane Katrina might have worked out much better.
"It seems that a levy had failed and you can see that the streets of New Orleans have virtually become canals. Hundreds are dead or unaccounted for. This may very well be the worst disaster this country has seen since the prohibition era when people couldn't even get a Budweiser, the king of beers, to save their lives."
Advertising is infectious. People in the area would have been evacuating their homes saying, "No! We have to go right now! You can't take your jewelry, honey, we have to leave it! We can only take the important things! We're all we got now. We are ALL... WE... GOT. Grab that 24 pack of Budweiser. The Budweiser! I don't know why, just fucking grab it! Leave the cat! Now you can use that arm!"
The government would have made some good money off of Hurricane Katrina, and they would have actually had the money and resources to help the people of New Orleans much faster.
There would be so many opportunities to make money from corporate sponsorship it's not even funny. Tornadoes, droughts, tsunamis, nuclear meltdowns, genocides, prison riots... the list goes on and on.
Then with the excess money, the government could afford to send everyone to finance classes to learn about such topics as "Why buying a house for $350,000 isn't a good idea when you only make $9 an hour" or "Why paying slightly higher income taxes so that the government doesn't have to make up for it by taxing the shit out of businesses that in turn have to outsource their work to China is a good thing".
However, you won't find me getting angry at the president for not pulling us out of this mess. You won't even find me blaming the House Republicans for filibustering every good idea that comes across their desks so that they have a 2012 political platform. I know... I was as shocked as you must be right now.
Heaven forbid our government, with it's evil socialist police departments and school systems, gets too big and is able to start fixing the problems that people living on food stamps and unemployment benefits keep complaining about.
The biggest problem is that people of every social class are greedy and they don't know how to manage their money. That's it.
And I have a solution that will solve everyone's problems: Corporate Sponsored Catastrophes.
When I first heard that the government was considering having corporate sponsorship of national parks I thought they were losing their minds. I thought they were getting desperate for funds. Then I thought, "Pepsi Presents Hurricane Katrina".
Just think about it. There must be dozens of catastrophes every day! Imagine the amount of money that would be coming in if Nabisco paid the government to get their name on an earthquake. It would be advertising in the form of panic. Everybody wins.
"The people of Los Angeles were awaken this morning by a magnitude 6.5 earthquake. You can see some of the structural damage in the wall of this Oreo factory, which by the way is milk's favorite cookie, that I'm reporting from right now."
People would be watching the news and saying to their families, "My God! The humanity! The Oreo factory?! Do you think the double stuffs were affected? You guys stay here, I'd better get to the store to stock up in case... shit! The neighbors are already running off to Safeway! I'd better take the shotgun."
Hurricane Katrina might have worked out much better.
"It seems that a levy had failed and you can see that the streets of New Orleans have virtually become canals. Hundreds are dead or unaccounted for. This may very well be the worst disaster this country has seen since the prohibition era when people couldn't even get a Budweiser, the king of beers, to save their lives."
Advertising is infectious. People in the area would have been evacuating their homes saying, "No! We have to go right now! You can't take your jewelry, honey, we have to leave it! We can only take the important things! We're all we got now. We are ALL... WE... GOT. Grab that 24 pack of Budweiser. The Budweiser! I don't know why, just fucking grab it! Leave the cat! Now you can use that arm!"
The government would have made some good money off of Hurricane Katrina, and they would have actually had the money and resources to help the people of New Orleans much faster.
There would be so many opportunities to make money from corporate sponsorship it's not even funny. Tornadoes, droughts, tsunamis, nuclear meltdowns, genocides, prison riots... the list goes on and on.
Then with the excess money, the government could afford to send everyone to finance classes to learn about such topics as "Why buying a house for $350,000 isn't a good idea when you only make $9 an hour" or "Why paying slightly higher income taxes so that the government doesn't have to make up for it by taxing the shit out of businesses that in turn have to outsource their work to China is a good thing".
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
The Salad Parable
As many of you already know, I wait tables at my second job.
As many of you already know, people drive me crazy.
As many of you already know, I made a poor job choice in this aspect.
When people ask me for more butter, more lemons, or more water it doesn't bother me. That's my job. But when I bring out a salad and the person at my table (and it is my table because we're required to bring them from home) takes a piece of lettuce with their fingers, holds it up to me with a condescending smile on their face, and says, "This doesn't look very fresh", I have to smile, apologize, and get them a new one. I'd much rather explain to them that slight discoloration is often caused by the amount of iron in the soil, but it wouldn't matter. In fact, they might get more upset that I'm more intelligent than they are, and that would somehow result in them getting a discount on their bill.
Even more than explaining agriculture to these kinds of customers, I'd like to give them a history lesson that would go something like this.
"Ah, I see you have brought the lettuce to my attention, sir. Your lettuce predicament reminds me of a tale from the paleolithic era."
At this point the lights in the restaurant would dim and tribal drums and flutes would begin to play.
"There once was a man by the name of Krag. Krag would sit near the cozy fire which burned in his community day and night until the rest of his tribe returned from hunting animals and gathering vegetation. When Krag was offered meat he would say, "Nay, I shall not partake in the eating of this meat, for it is underdone." The other people of his tribe shrugged and went back to eating. Later, when Krag was offered the collected vegetation he would say, "I cannot be expected to eat this vegetation, for it is somewhat shriveled and discolored." Once again the people of his tribe shrugged and went back to eating. Suddenly the community was attacked by inter-dimensional lizard-men. The members of Krag's tribe were all able to run away, but not Krag. He had grown fat and slow from never participating in anything except bitching about food preparations. The inter-dimensional lizard-men took Krag back to their king to eat for dinner. But the lizard-men king held up a hand and stopped his lizard-men. "Stop!" he shouted. "Surely you do not expect me to eat this man! For his penis is small, shriveled, and discolored. All lizard-men know this is the best part! Take him back to the kitchen, throw him into a trash can, and tell the starving children in Africa that we are so rich that we can do anything we want with our food!"
The lights would then come back on in the restaurant, the drum and flute band would disperse, and the customer would eat his god-damned salad.
As many of you already know, people drive me crazy.
As many of you already know, I made a poor job choice in this aspect.
When people ask me for more butter, more lemons, or more water it doesn't bother me. That's my job. But when I bring out a salad and the person at my table (and it is my table because we're required to bring them from home) takes a piece of lettuce with their fingers, holds it up to me with a condescending smile on their face, and says, "This doesn't look very fresh", I have to smile, apologize, and get them a new one. I'd much rather explain to them that slight discoloration is often caused by the amount of iron in the soil, but it wouldn't matter. In fact, they might get more upset that I'm more intelligent than they are, and that would somehow result in them getting a discount on their bill.
Even more than explaining agriculture to these kinds of customers, I'd like to give them a history lesson that would go something like this.
"Ah, I see you have brought the lettuce to my attention, sir. Your lettuce predicament reminds me of a tale from the paleolithic era."
At this point the lights in the restaurant would dim and tribal drums and flutes would begin to play.
"There once was a man by the name of Krag. Krag would sit near the cozy fire which burned in his community day and night until the rest of his tribe returned from hunting animals and gathering vegetation. When Krag was offered meat he would say, "Nay, I shall not partake in the eating of this meat, for it is underdone." The other people of his tribe shrugged and went back to eating. Later, when Krag was offered the collected vegetation he would say, "I cannot be expected to eat this vegetation, for it is somewhat shriveled and discolored." Once again the people of his tribe shrugged and went back to eating. Suddenly the community was attacked by inter-dimensional lizard-men. The members of Krag's tribe were all able to run away, but not Krag. He had grown fat and slow from never participating in anything except bitching about food preparations. The inter-dimensional lizard-men took Krag back to their king to eat for dinner. But the lizard-men king held up a hand and stopped his lizard-men. "Stop!" he shouted. "Surely you do not expect me to eat this man! For his penis is small, shriveled, and discolored. All lizard-men know this is the best part! Take him back to the kitchen, throw him into a trash can, and tell the starving children in Africa that we are so rich that we can do anything we want with our food!"
The lights would then come back on in the restaurant, the drum and flute band would disperse, and the customer would eat his god-damned salad.
The Omega Phone
Technology is moving at an abnormally fast rate. Someday your phone will not only be able to order a pizza for you, but it will spread wings, fly to get it, eat it for you, and then e-mail it to your iPad.
Someday touch screens will be dead. You'll just be able to think about what website you want to visit and your chosen piece of technology (phone, tablet, computer, or the eventual amalgamation of all three) will go there for you.
This leaves me with only one question: Why the hell are we so obsessed with things that have no effect on the quality of our lives?
This all starts with kids.
Kids always want what their friends have. They throw tantrums, punch holes in walls, and shit their pants until their parents are stupid enough to give in and buy them whatever toy it is they want this week because they think their kids will love them more if they buy it for them. Then these kids grow up spoiled and hating their parents because they were never taught discipline or monetary value. They become adults who call in sick to work, stand in line for 16 hours, rush into Verizon for the newest iPhone, discover there are only two left, stab the three people in front of them, buy both of them, sell one on eBay, and drive home while simultaneously updating their Facebook status and plowing through a wheelchair race.
And new technology pops up like acne on a fifteen year old because there's a market. We don't need it. There's simply a market of self-absorbed adults who used to be self-absorbed kids who want new self-absorbing toys (not to be confused with self-absorbing Brawny paper towels).
But who am I to say what's best for people? If you want to spend the rest of your life with your face in your phone that's fine with me. In the meantime, I'm going to start preparing for the enslavement of humanity by small rectangular robots that have plenty of exciting apps to keep you distracted while they lock you into contracts, charge you every time you press the number 6, and make you want to answer texts and phone calls in the middle of movies, communion, and sexual intercourse.
Someday touch screens will be dead. You'll just be able to think about what website you want to visit and your chosen piece of technology (phone, tablet, computer, or the eventual amalgamation of all three) will go there for you.
This leaves me with only one question: Why the hell are we so obsessed with things that have no effect on the quality of our lives?
This all starts with kids.
Kids always want what their friends have. They throw tantrums, punch holes in walls, and shit their pants until their parents are stupid enough to give in and buy them whatever toy it is they want this week because they think their kids will love them more if they buy it for them. Then these kids grow up spoiled and hating their parents because they were never taught discipline or monetary value. They become adults who call in sick to work, stand in line for 16 hours, rush into Verizon for the newest iPhone, discover there are only two left, stab the three people in front of them, buy both of them, sell one on eBay, and drive home while simultaneously updating their Facebook status and plowing through a wheelchair race.
And new technology pops up like acne on a fifteen year old because there's a market. We don't need it. There's simply a market of self-absorbed adults who used to be self-absorbed kids who want new self-absorbing toys (not to be confused with self-absorbing Brawny paper towels).
But who am I to say what's best for people? If you want to spend the rest of your life with your face in your phone that's fine with me. In the meantime, I'm going to start preparing for the enslavement of humanity by small rectangular robots that have plenty of exciting apps to keep you distracted while they lock you into contracts, charge you every time you press the number 6, and make you want to answer texts and phone calls in the middle of movies, communion, and sexual intercourse.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Ant Motel: The Parallel to the "No-Tell" Variety
I had an epiphany tonight. Strangely, I wasn't in the bathroom during this one. I was in the insecticide isle at the grocery store.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't like to kill anything (unless it's a bottle of Kiltlifter or Yoo-Hoo). I like to put things in perspective. For example, just before I eat a hamburger I wonder what it would be like for humans to be corralled, ground into little bits, and consumed by beings that don't give a fuck.
Tonight I was buying ant motels after our kitchen was plagued by ants. I thought to myself, "It would be strange to go inside of something, pick up a contaminant, and bring it back to our colony to spread to the others." And suddenly I realized that ant motels are no different than chlamydia.
The truth is I've been trying to fit chlamydia into a blog for about a month now.
Success!
Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't like to kill anything (unless it's a bottle of Kiltlifter or Yoo-Hoo). I like to put things in perspective. For example, just before I eat a hamburger I wonder what it would be like for humans to be corralled, ground into little bits, and consumed by beings that don't give a fuck.
Tonight I was buying ant motels after our kitchen was plagued by ants. I thought to myself, "It would be strange to go inside of something, pick up a contaminant, and bring it back to our colony to spread to the others." And suddenly I realized that ant motels are no different than chlamydia.
The truth is I've been trying to fit chlamydia into a blog for about a month now.
Success!
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