Fun With Children
- Dress up as Santa and go to the mall. Wait until you have a sizeable entourage of rugrats, at which point you rip off your beard and loudly proclaim, “THERE IS NO SANTA!” Run towards the nearest exit.
- I always wanted to download the Ice Cream truck music off the internet, and blast it as I drive down the road. Nothing like good music and the faces of disappointed children.
- Scary as it may seem, I am now a parent myself. I can’t wait until my oldest child comes home from school to see me in the back yard filling a hole with dirt.
”daddy, what happened?”
”I bought you that puppy you always wanted, but mommy killed it”
On Flying...
To begin with, why are airlines compelled to distribute peanuts, which are essentially small packages of concentrated thirst, a full ten minutes before serving beverages? I think because they can.
My main gripe, however, is with my fellow passengers. When flying on Southwest, there are no assigned seats; the passengers form a line and board the plane, sitting where they please. In a polite society, this line could go to the back of the plane and start at the rear most seats, thereby allowing everyone to quickly be seated, as no one would block the progress of the passenger behind them in line. Unfortunately, people suck. The first person in line will take the very front seat, making everyone behind them wait while he stows his baggage and gets situated. Then, the second person takes the very next seat. Excrutiatingly slow progress is made this way, but why should they care? I mean,
they were first after all, so the needs of the crowd behind them don't matter. The ultimate irony is that they are trying to save time on getting off the aircraft, and the combined line wait for all these jackasses to find a seat is by far more than the time saved.
Personally, I think a big point of operating in a polite society is to consider the relative weight of your time versus the time of others. If all men are equal, than the value of each person's time is equal, making it rude to make someone else wait for 2 minutes to save yourself 20 seconds. Then, you have to multiply the wait by the number of people: making 100 people wait for 20 seconds each has just caused a combined 33 minutes of inconvenience (this officially makes you an inconsiderate asshole, by the way).
If everybody quit trying to be first all the damn time, you'd begin to notice something: while you might not be the first person there, odds are you'd get there in about the same time, and a lot less stressfully.
Death by...
Here's something to chew on:
Imagine that, for some reason, someone tied cinder blocks to your feet and threw you to the bottom of an empty pool. You look up to find that this someone has a truck full of water, and a truck full of sand. If they dump the water into the pool you would die by drowning, right? If they were to dump the sand into the pool instead, you would die by suffocation. What if they dumped half and half? Where is the threshold where if you add more sand you'd suffocate instead of drown? I've done this experiment on at least a dozen winos, and I still don't know for sure; but I can tell you that it's somewhere in the 45-55% sand range...
How's This for a T-Shirt?
McDumb
I hate when I go to a fast food place & try to place an order, but I have to deal with a zombie cashier with absolutely no capacity for critical thought:
"I'd like an order of fries with a small drink, please"
"I'm sorry, but we only have medium, large and extra large drinks, sir..."
At this point, after I silently count to 10, I wonder if I have to break out a chalkboard to explain to this asshole that just becuase mcMarketing decided to shake things up by changing the names of the sizes to appeal to the hip extreme crowd, or whoever's ass the media is kissing this week, the smallest of the available sizes is
still the friggin' small. I know they have to follow the hip new mcLingo or else they'll have to be bonded into wage slavery with some other soulless corporation, seriously straining their weekly weed budget, but for god's sake: THINK!
I also hate it when I go somewhere to get beer (would you believe that dealing with society drives me to drink? go figure...) & the only ID available is my US Passport. This just makes the cashier nine kinds of flustered:
"I'm sorry, but we only accept driver's licenses and military I.D.'s"
"No, you accept this, too. This will get me into any country in the world. This can get me inside an American Embassy anywhere in the world. This is acceptable I.D. to get a job anywhere in the country, and is pretty hard to fake. It sure as shit can get me a 6-pack."
"Maybe I should get a manager..."
Maybe I Should Get A Manager... That is mcZombie for "Does not compute". You have deviated from the script. This was not covered in the manual. Now a manager must be summoned, because none of the peasants are allowed the luxury of free thought.
Speaking of buying beer, in the south you can not buy beer on sundays! It's happened to me before. I tried to tell them that it was okay to sell it to me since I didn't believe in Jesus, but that didn't fly. But that's an entirely different line of zombie thought from the one I'm currently attacking...
but she has a nice personality...
I'm tired of all this complaining about how we're a society that judges others on their looks. Of course we judge people by their looks! You hear all these ugly people talk about how they just want a man/woman to see beyond their appearance and appreciate their inner beauty. What a line of shit - what they really mean is that they want someone
better looking to be attracted to them. Obviously, someone of equal (un)attractiveness could be with them without this appreciation for "inner beauty", but they're not interested in discovering the "inner beauty" in someone else of their place (or lower!) on the 10-point scale. Like all those bullshit teen love movies about how the high-school nerd gets the captain of the cheerleading squad after she falls in love with his quirky sense of humor. I'll let you in on something: he
does get the cheerleading captain - 15 years later, after he gets his software patent(money, the great equalizer). And after she spent her high-school and college years dating the quarterback.
The reason why we want an attractive mate: genetics. We want to have a good-looking mate so we can have good-looking children, who'll either:
- Mate with good-looking people & produce good-looking grand-children, or
- Become trophy spouses to less attractive people with money, producing moderately attractive grand-children with material advantages that enable them to secure a mate with even more desireable genetic material, resulting in uber-great-grandchildren
That's just the way it is. Personality & intelligence count to a degree - most people would prefer a likeable, intelligent '8' over an idiotic, bitchy '10'. Furthermore, there's nothing wrong with being unattractive - hell, embrace it! Think about how much time each day you'll save by not having to primp. Find someone of equal looks, love them for who they are, and be happy! Don't write in to extreme makeover about how you need facial reconstruction and a set of pec implants or fake boobs to be a worthwhile person.
Guidelines for the socially retarded part 1
This is for all of you out there who have absolutely no clue about how you should interact with other human beings. I'm not talking about the fancy stuffed-shirt social pomp & circumstance that those pampered baby-boomers who wish to look refined would call etiquette; you can stab yourself in the eye with the shrimp fork for all I care. I'm talking about the things you must do to keep from being lynched, ostracize or otherwise penalized for your social incompetence. For the love of Christ, PAY ATTENTION:
- Regarding conversation: If someone tells you an amusing / sad/ unfair story about a past experience of theirs, and you have a past story that is more amusing /sad/ unfair, KEEP IT TO YOURSELF. Especially don't say, "that's nothing - wait til you hear this..."
- Driving: If you find that you were on the far right lane & need to turn left, or vice versa, you are not important enough to stop your car & hold up traffic until you get a clear shot across lanes. You keep driving until you can turn around, & make a mental note to watch where you're going in the future. You are not so special that 25 other people should give up 30 seconds of their time in order to save you a minute and a half.
- Conversation revisited: When telling a story to people, remember that if the person doesn't know who you're talking about, don't voice your internal monologue about the trivial details - "and on the way to carl's house.. No, wait, I think we were going to Kelly's at that point because we already got the pizza, and that means we already passed carl's...." I can tell you right now that the rest of your story would go just as well, be it on the way to carl's or Kelly's. Oh, and no one gives a rat's ass.
- Public restrooms: the ladies might operate by a different code than us gents so I won't presume to speak for them on this. Guys: if you are sitting in a bathroom stall, there is absolutely, without question, no valid reason to start up a conversation with the person in the adjacent stall. Unless you're out of paper.
- Dreams: Unless your winkies & hoo-hoos touch regularly, you are not to force a person to listen to you talk about your dreams.
The dark side of science...
I was reading about time travel the other day because, well, I'm somewhat of a dork; one of the predominant theories is that there are an infinite number of parallel universes in which all possible outcomes of all possible events exist. This made me feel good, because I realized that somewhere out in the midst of those parallel universes, I'll finish this entry, hop in my dodge viper and go on a day trip to the beach house. But then I also realized that there is another parallel universe in which I finish this entry, put on a pink bunny suit, hijack a short bus, castrate a clergyman and set myself on fire in the women's undergarments section at walmart.
I'm so sorry- no, really.
Have you ever, while someone told you a really sad personal story, thought about how inappropriate it would be to laugh while they were telling it? What sucks is that picturing the fallout from that scenario...
"You sick bastard! How can you laugh at the fact that my grandmother was killed & eaten by a deranged scoutmaster!"
...Is actually somewhat funny. Which means that you have to try not to laugh, lest the scenario you were just envisioning become true. Unfortunately, I can never stop myself from going down that mental road. However, I can now take comfort in the fact that you won't be able to anymore either.
Fun At Work
Sneak into your boss's office, find his or her stack of business cards, write colorful messages on the back of a handful of them, & shuffle them back into the stack. Examples include:
"I'm not wearing underpants"
"Don't really call me - I'm just handing these out to look busy"
"50% discount to all N.A.M.B.L.A. members"
I hope it goes without saying to disguise your handwriting.
