I Socked It To Them And It Was Electric

Americans...you only won the womens world cup match against North Korea for one reason and one reason only...The North Koreans had all been struck by lightening right before the game.
This is the claim of the manager of the team from the NK, Kim. Kim says "It is a testament to their will, that they could play at all" going on to say, I dare you to be struck by lightening and then play soccer you Lazy Ass Americans.
Readers, I must admit I know absolutely nothing about the game of soccer  other than it is what I turn on when I need a nap. Watching sheep run up and down a green field and doing absolutely nothing is so peaceful, it puts me right to sleep. I am being told that those aren't sheep, they are in fact people and apparently they are trying to kick a ball into a net or something and I am still falling asleep.
See, I think this lightening thing has merits. After all, the few times I have watched sports, if an American athlete gets hurt, they sit it on the bench for at least a few games. These NK girls (or maybe they are just really small guys...its really hard to tell in some of the pictures) just got zapped and said bring it. Sure they lost, but they have much bigger balls than we do.
I think adding a zapping challenge may even help make soccer fun to watch. I say put a giant tesla coil in the center of the field and randomly electrocute players as they attempt to make shots. Also, find out if that 350lb woman playing goalie is faster than a bolt of lightening by sending a few sparks her way.
The NK may have finally figured out away to make Americans watch this sport. The only people in America that watch soccer are children, those with low functioning mental attributes, those that play soccer themselves and the easily amused.
By adding a "Lightening Round" or a "Sparky Playbook", more people may turn away from football and watch. Better yet, let players carry cattle prods, its not like you get to use your hands in this game anyways.
America, I have found the solution to your hatred to what the rest of world wants to call football. Randomly electrocute the players!

God I Hate Living Alone

Today is a new part in my "How To" series. Today's topic...How to keep your room mate freaked out.
Everyone knows that room mates suck, but unfortunately with the price of everything these days, they are sometimes necessary. So I have come up with a few strategies to ensure that room mates either leave you alone completely or move out.
1. This one requires you to be able to own a pet in your apartment. 1st get a new pet. Then make a show of affection and progress it from the pet sleeping on the balcony to sleeping on the couch to finally in your room. Talk to the pet as if it were a lover. Then one day sporadically yell in the middle of the night "I can't stand you anymore! I can't live with you! What do you want from me?" Then get out of bed and slam the door. The next day get rid of the pet and refuse to talk about it saying its just too painful.
2. Set your room mates stuff on fire. If he/she freaks out about it apologize and say look I was just testing an experiment for chemistry/work. The next day, do it again but this time tell your room mate you did it because you can't stand them. If you don't wish to risk being charged with arson, you could also just sit across the room and stare at your room mate while playing with a lighter mumbling "very very soon".
3. Call your room mates parents on their cell phone. Pretend to be your room mate and that your high/drunk. Curse them like crazy then hang up.
4. Gather items to make it through an apocalypse in the living room. Tell your room mate that, the world will end a week from Friday and you want to be prepared. Tell him/her that the Kool-Aid will be prepared an hour before the coming of your Lord and that they should drink it quickly to avoid suffering.
5. When rent comes due, pay your room mate in "magic beans". Tell him/her that you bought them from a guy in an alley who promised that would make all your dreams come true.
6. Put your room mate up for sale on Craigs List. Tell him/her that all proceeds are going to a good cause. Like cause you thought it would be funny to sell your room mate and buy a new TV.
7. Buy the creepiest doll/stuffed animal you can find. Set it up in a corner and have random arguments with it. One day catch your room mate in another room and tell him that the doll has been making snide remarks about him/her. Tell them that you have asked it to move out but it refuses to leave.
8. Buy a mannequin and a chainsaw. Dress the mannequin up in your room mates clothes then slowly dismember it with the chainsaw while your room mate looks on in fear. Make sure you giggle the whole time.
9. This one is a bit more complicated. It requires you to first make friends with people at the blood bank. Then get a few empty blood bags and fill them with a red juice of some kind. Each night, drink from the blood packs and explain to your room mate that you just can't seem to be able to quench your thirst.
10. Finally. Pack up all of your room mates belongings and put them in the hallway. Change the locks and when your room mate asks what is going on, tell them that the INS stopped by and said they were being deported for being in this country illegally and you wanted to make sure they didn't leave your stuff behind.

Trying To Relate Using Proven Methods

As most of my readers know, I have returned to college and have been struggling to find a balance between being a thirty something year old college student, a co-owner of a business and that guy that keeps getting thrown out of Chucky Cheese for playing in the ball pit.
But luckily for me I have been enrolled in a mandatory class to help make the transition easier.
Called the Fundamentals of Success for Non-Traditional Students, this class helps old people better  vibe with young ones.
Our first day we were given the key to understanding traditional freshman students. This key would help us relate to all young people under the age of 20. This device would help send our minds back to simpler times and remind us each what it means to be a high school senior. And that mystery object that our college professor says will help us relate...is Play Doh.
Now personally I would have thought that a beer bong and some Play Boy magazines would help me remember what it was like to be a high school senior, but considering I graduated back in 1995, I admit I may be out of touch. Now I know thanks to this class I can easily start a conversation with anyone aged 17 to 20 without fear of ridicule or judgement. If nervous, I can just ask what their favorite color of Play Doh is or their favorite accessory.
This class will prove useful in many ways. I have learned that life in college is like a game of Chutes and Ladders, another thing that helps us relate to high school seniors, in that sometimes your climbing and other times you are sliding back down. I tried acting this out a Burger King and got stuck. I knew I shouldn't have had that triple whopper before trying to go down...
Hugging random strangers is also very much expected if you are an old person going back to school. We are told that if we need a hug just ask, and these young people will jump at the chance to help. I tried that with a girl who appeared to be 18 and am still waiting on the results of the investigation.
Algebra got ya down? Get out your coloring books! High school kids love to color! And when they see you coloring they will join in and then you can ask them for help with your classes!
Polka music is also very popular with young kids too according to my class. As is PBS.
Coming to class dressed as your favorite cartoon character is also encouraged. Tomorrow I will be a Power Ranger. And maybe later I will dress up as Rocko from "Rocko's Modern Life". Friday I plan to dress up like Garfield and pretend to be a cat while my class is on a field trip to the Olive Garden.
You should also offer them an allowance. This way you build a parent-child relationship with the young student. Our teacher encourages us to let them dig it out of our own pockets. You could also buy them gifts in an effort to bond, I hear most like Bud Light Lime or an ounce of watermelon kush.
We are encouraged to offer high fives to everyone we see. As well as say phrases like Rad and Groovy.
If young people are bullying you, you can always threaten to call their parents. After all, you probably went to school with them.
If you see young people involved in activities, you should join in. I saw some 19 year olds jumping off a building flapping their arms like birds and tried to be a part of it.I don't think I broke my ankle but I am pretty sure it isn't supposed to be purple.
Hide and seek or full campus capture the flag is another way to bond with the youth of America. Hide in dorms, lockers or closets and see how long it takes for someone to find you.
Knowing that all of these methods will make me more popular with kids is a great boost to my ego, knowing that works outside of Pre-K, however, is sad.

Math Makes My Brain Do Loop Da Loops

It is a common understanding that I hate the higher maths. See, readers, I just don't understand why it has to be so logical.
If I wanted to make x=27, shouldn't I be able to make up numbers and formulas in order to get to the number I want? After all, isn't possible that my random equations are just equations that haven't been discovered yet?
Take for instance Girard Desargues. He is credited for inventing theroms on projective geometery. I have no idea what it means, but I am sure it is awesome. But Mr Desargues was ridiculed from day one and his work was never accepted for almost 200 years! So if I say that Eleventy six is a real number, how can you say I am wrong?
Take Georg Cantor, his ideas for the basic concepts of infinity were worked out by his equations and he was a laughing stock. This is why I know the largest number is a billionity. Thank you Mr Cantor!
As a matter of fact, most mathematicians have suffered ridicule for want to have proof and fact! This is why I say just make it up and history will record it as truth.
I think we should be allowed to creative licensing with all forms of algebra and trig and geometry. If I think a circle has 42 sides, then there should be a formula to back my claim written immediately it may look like this () = 42 * (
I think that is a doable problem! math is the only subject that locks itself into facts. Even science takes liberities with facts so that whoever is presenting the "fact" can argue with a guy with completely contradictory facts.
So let's bring math into the mainstream! It's not like stock brokers dont play with numbers to begin with!

Touching Someones Ass In Texas Can Now Be A Crime

Texas is known for having bigger well..everything. And so it comes as no surprise that they have a bone to pick with the TSA (Transport Security Administration).
See, texans are tired of the TSA groping their really big balls at airports across the state. So tired of it, that texas Governer has reintroduced a bill that died in regular session to the states legislatures special session.
The bill "would criminlize the touching of genitals" by anyone including the TSA.
One can hardly fault the TSA operatives, after all they are protecting us from terrorists. And if the interest of protecting us they cop feels of every attractive person to walk through the airport, then I say Good for them!!
See, these rent a cops turned official law men, have long been treated badly by commercial fliers everywhere. Then after 9/11, they were made the last line of defense against people meaning us harm on our airways.
You can't expect them not to let that power go to their head! I mean lets look at the odds here for a moment...lets say that its June and a guy wants to board a plane wearing a ski mask, heavy trench coat and combat boots...he has just as much chance of being a terrorist as the hot 18 year old in the leopard mini skirt and halter top that stops above her navel that the TSA chose to *ahem* inspect instead.
After all, the guy can only hide stuff in his clothing, women have so many other hiding places!
I think that if deemed necessary, the TSA should be allowed to do full cavity searches in private rooms that come stocked with Champagne and Trojans.
Besides...its not like you weren't getting raped already...look at what you paid to fly to start with!!
I think that smart entrepeneurs should start selling rubber gloves and cotton swabs right beside the security gates, so that concerned passengers can know that the pair of gloves that just touched ur anus was fresh.
I think thats the right idea, and if they want they can bundle that universal health care right in with this as well...I needed a prostate exam anyways.
The TSA has responded that they will continue to sodomize you as they feel necessary and that since Federal law supercedes state law, you can suck it!
So quit complaining...after all if you let that stranger insert beads up your ass the night before at the Quality Inn, why complain about someone doing it for free?
I mean, if you think about it, we do way worse with hookers and our girlfriends anyways. I think people just want to bitch. For some people, this may the only action they can get.
So, Texas, you are now on my no flys open list...Next time I am there, I want you to spread your cheeks and grab your balls, because its time for an enema.

Don't you just hate getting bad calls by referees in sporting events? But even if you lost everything in Vegas on the out come of things like Rocky Versus Mr T, no one actually died because of a bad call...right?
Well, at least no one has died in the last 1700 years. Because 1800 years ago a gladiator in Ancient Rome died because of a bad call from a referee.
See according to Michael Carter who is some kind of a professor at a college in that place north of New York, a gladiators tombstone has finally been decoded. This tombstone had a weird and here to unknown epitaph scribbled on it. The message when translated said simply, "I called heads bitches! I won the coin toss, why did you give it to the other guy?"
Ok so that isn't an exact quote, It said something about "fate and treachery of a" referee "killed me".
See something I didn't know about gladiator fights is that there are rules. I mean other than kill each other. And each of the matches is overseen by a guy called a "summa rudis", or as we would call them a referee.
This guy could be corrupt and he was always playing to the rich onlookers in the crowds.
So, if a rich guy paid the ref off then their gladiator may win...sounds like American Football.
So one of these rules is if one of the fighters falls on his on...you know trips because he is a clumsy bastard...the ref has the right to let them get up take their shield and sword and start fighting again.
Think, a flag on the play and the teams get to replay that down with no penalty.
So the dead guy, whos name is Diodorus, was fighting against a guy named Demetrious...and Diodorus thought, he put Demetry on the ground legitimately...but the ref disagreed and Demetrious kicked Diodorus's ass.
Like how Tyson turned on Holyfield...I suspect that Demetrious bit Diodorus's ear off...
So, when he was buried...his family or friends or the people cheering...had the story of his death written onto his tombstone.
So, what we have is either the 1st proven account of cheating by umpires or the 1st proven sore loser...
For info on this story check out the following link http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20110620/sc_livescience/romangladiatorsgravestonedescribesfatalfoul

In Oregon, Get The Whole Kit And Kaboodle

And just when I was ready to move to Oregon and get my own do it yourself suicide kit, they go and outlaw them. And why do I need a suicide kit...because the government come and took my baby.
See, the state of Oregon is one of the states that allows doctors to help patients commit suicide. This has led to some great money making opportunities for creative entrepreneurs. One lady in particular, Sharllote Hydorn aged 91, began selling suicide kits to customers via mail order. These kits will run you about $60 after shipping and consist of a plastic bag with a hose that you can attach to a helium tank.
Ms Hydorn claims her product is to "help patients with terminal diseases end it all" and help supplement my social security income.
The only difference between Ms Hydorn and Doctors that help you die is the amount of education. Apparently, you need a doctorate in suicide to be able to profit off of someones suicide. This way the insurance company makes money, the hospitals, and the doctors and probably the state as well.
The new law that is in the process of being passed "makes it a crime to sell anything that helps someone else to die". I think if Grandma wants to asphyxiate herself, let her...but if it's for some sick sex game...i only want to her about it if you are a hot female.
Law makers don't want senior citizens on the verge of dying to profit off of people dying it seems.
I say lets up the ante! Let Ms Hydorn not only sell the product but demonstrate it as well...sure it could only be demonstrated once, but isn't that all you would need? I mean, you will either know if it is for you or not after one example.
And then with this new law other factors come in...I mean whats the point of guns other than to help people die? Does this new law make it a crime to sell firearms? And even though they claim the new law won't affect doctors....don't they help you die as well? Will this out law physicians?
I think people that want to die should be able to go to a place similar to a gun range and people that want to help them should be legally allowed to help them. We could have death by baseball bat, Frisbee, and ping pong balls all added to the natural causes list.
And I think maybe there could be more related products to sell. Bundle do it yourself wills, suicide and cremation kits into deals.
The cremation kits would include 3 gallons of kerosene and a match. So basically after you kill yourself you set yourself on fire and let your neighbors collect the ashes. We could even include a money back guarantee. If you don't die the way you thought you should just return the unused portions within 30 minutes of your suicide for a full refund.
They could even bundle in pastors and services and sell the whole kit and kaboodle. That's what we will call it...A Suicide Kit & Kaboodle.

No Good Deed Goes Un-Taxed, Un-Fined, Or Un-Impounded

The American dream is taxable. That is the message that local authorities from Montgomery County, Maryland is sending out to big business. And by big business, I am referring to all the 6 year olds running lemonade stands across the county.
See, apparently you need a vendors license in order to operate a lemonade stand. These licenses are about $300 according to sources. Which means after buying the lemonade, the sugar, the cups, the object to stir it with, a pony, and the lumber to build your stand,  you will owe $3,457 after you collect all the days profits.
The problem arose when the US Open had the nerve of opening up in the town of Bethesda, Maryland. Now for those of you that have no idea what the US Open is, I will tell you. It's the show I watch to help me go to sleep at night.
Enter Carrie Marriott, the mother of one of the precocious youths that is at the center of this civil disobedience. She allowed her child, and a neighbors child, to set up a lemonade stand in their yard next to the US Open. This was in clear violation of Bethesda's county ordinance on operating lemonade stands using illegal child labor, on hot days, beside busy roads, in order to milk the visitors to the US Open of their hard earned money so she could donate it to a charity that helps fund research for cancer.
The nerve of this woman. Doesn't she realize that raising money for charities is only available to large corporations looking to have more tax write offs at the end of the fiscal year? Who does she think she is?
She should consider herself lucky that all they did was shut her kids lemonade stand down...except that wasn't all the county did. No, in a move that makes me proud of bureaucracy, they also fined her $500. Take that Marriott!
She should be glad that they didn't put a lien on her house! After all, the county was allowing her neighbors to charge up to $60 a car for people to park in their yards and attend the event! But everyone knows that being able to park on someone's lawn to watch the most boring sport ever, is more important than a couple of kids raising money for pediatric cancer research.
Just think, if they impounded her house, the county could then bulldoze her home and make the whole lot a parking garage for next years US Open! Then, they could build lemonade stands and maybe even a taco stand that were owned by the county to help make up some budget deficits. And maybe at the end of the year they can make a small $10 donation in the form of a gift card to the Sizzler to a guy that helps research the researching of cancer.
They say no good deed goes unpunished, but I don't think it applies here. I think a better phrase would be...No good deed goes un-taxed, un-fined or un-impounded.

I Will Punch You In The Face

Today I will be sharing some news from around the world or at least from across the aisle...the freezer aisle that is.

Yesterday a court battle began and ended between opera singer Marcella Caprario and Dr Cathleen London. The battle that took place in the courtroom was not their first scuffle, however. See, when Caprario, who is not only an opera singer but also a teacher, first met Dr London, it was her fists that did the talking. 

Caprario was shopping with her husband and badly craving some frozen pad Thai. But unfortunately, London's kids were playing monkey in the middle with it. So Caprario did the only thing she could do. She punched London in the face.

Her attorney, Mark Bederow, claimed that it was a completely justifiable and reasonable response. And courts in NYC agreed. Basically, if you get between a vegan and her cheap frozen dinner, the fights over when the fat opera singer punches you in the face.

In Romania, a gypsy woman was charged with slapping a police officer. What sucks is that she was also slapped back by the cop. 

So, basically the long arm of the law slapped you and bent you over...

Back in 2009, a man in Gwinnet County Georgia was arrested after he slapped a strangers child for crying. 

Roger Stephens is your typical Wal-Mart customer...namely inbred...and on  Aug 31 2009, while he was shopping for potted meat and vienna sausages, he came across a 2 year old child that was crying. 

Now Mr Stephens did what any normal 61 year old man would do, he slapped her four to five times in the face. He then looked at the child's mom and said "Told you I could shut her up."

I've had this urge in restaurants and movie theaters, but never in Wal-Mart...Makes me never wanna violate any white trash's air space.

In the Tampa Bay area...On May 24 2010, a homeless man slapped his homeless girlfriend for refusing to strip for him.

According to the police reports Donald Abel, 60, slapped Tekita Jackson because she refused to perform a strip tease for him.  The two had slept in parking lots and doorways for a year and she claimed he was always abusive.

Cops arrested a 17 year old girl in Seattle for assault after they punched her in the face. That's right, police punched a girl in the face and then arrested her! I have no idea when this happened, but the video can be found on youtube. 

So, in closing...if you are an officer of the law or an opera singer...you can punch whoever you want in the face and get away with it. If you are anyone else, and in some cases if you are the victim, you can go to jail.

Amina Tell You Something, This Hoax Has Gone To Far

The world is outraged and shocked at the revelation of Amina Abdullah not being who she claims she was. Readers, for those of you that have no idea who Amina Abdullah is, don't feel bad, because until a few minutes ago, I did not either.
See Amina is a "out lesbian" who blogs on the political and economical situations in Syria. She has talked of her ridicule and her struggles. She has talked about the reforms and has become a leading voice in the blogger sphere for womens rights and equality. She had attracted almost 15,000 followers...that is 1,000 times more than the followers I have publically following me.
She was in the words of some of her readers "an inspiration to women everywhere".
The only problem is...Amina...is a man baby, yeah.
See, trouble for Amina began when the actual writer of the blog 40 year old Tom MacMaster got tired of writing it. He was having a hard time relating to being a 20 something year old girl. I mean after you discuss first periods, what else is there left to talk about right?
So, Tom, now out of ideas, decided to spice things up a bit. And he posted as Aminas cousin or sister or friend or maybe even a pet...I can't keep up with all his alter egos. Anyways...he posted under a different pseudonym that Amina had been kidnapped by the government.
This didn't sit well with fans of the "Girl from Damascus". So readers, began to post things on Facebook like, "Free Amina" and "Lesbians Can Be Muslims Too" and "If She Is As Hot As She Sounds In Her Blog, Heres My Number." Of course that last one was my sign...Imagine my shock when I found out she was indeed no where near as hot as her blog made her out to be.
After a few days of the media running with the story, Tom felt he had to come clean and he outted himself as the creator of a hoax. Kind of like that hoax with McDonalds, only in this case no one was amused.
He apologized and said, "even though everything I wrote was a lie, it was all true."
Wait...What? So, not only do you have the balls (that Amina wasn't supposed to have) to make up this young womans plight in Syria, but then you have the cajones to say its all "based" on a true story?
Tom went on to imply that he felt as though he "had created a voice" that he would enjoy using at parties and local events, like drag shows, to speak on the important issues.
He also implied he would enjoy being "touched by his readers".
Tom writes in his apology as if Amina were an alternate personaility that he couldn't control. She expressed herself over and over and he was powerless to stop her. He seems to claim that she used him to spread her propaganda.
However, the majority of his fans were not in the mood for his bad joke. They have expressed anger and outrage to his blatant manipulation.
Which leads me to a confession readers...I am not that handsome guy that you see in those pictures there...no I am actually a goldfish. I wait for my owner to go to work or school and then I write about the issues that affect goldfish all over the world. As an openly expressive aquatic creature, I find that it is hard to type without fingers or the ability to breathe out of the water.
But now you know my secret...I am sorry I perpetuated this hoax...I never expected people to like the person I pretended to be...I mean I tried to stop, but somewhere in my goldfish mind was this person longing to escape...I am going back to my coy pond now...I hope you will let me continue to be a voice to touch your hearts and I appreciate all of you letting me get my fins in you.
And now you understand why I hate bears.

I Would Like A Job Or At Least A Dollar

Beer in hand he stumbled along the sidewalk. My best guess was he had on a pair of invisible 3D glasses which helped him avoid the invisible obstacles that were flying at him. He stopped and talked to non-existent passer-bys and he even danced for a few minutes.
Which is why we haven't eliminated homelessness in this country; they are just too damn entertaining. Whether they are relieving themselves in the meat case of large supermarkets or trying to steal cooking wine, they are the high point of many peoples day.
Watching a guy go to sleep in the doorway of an automatic door at Wally World is cool, but watching him do that right after asking for a dollar is priceless.
I have seen some really good signs too. More than the Homeless vet signs or will work for food signs, I like the "Bet you can't hit me with a quarter" signs. I also like the "My family was killed by ninjas and I need cash for karate lessons." I even saw a "I would like enough money to get shit faced for the evening and forget I am homeless" sign.
We watch them as if they are animals at the zoo. Heaven forbid if we walk on the same side of the street as one of them. I think the government should send them to countries we don't like and let them take up social services and bother the local populaces. We could call them Sending Homeless Into The Enemy or S.H.I.T.E.
What happened to the industrious homeless people? Like Robin Hood? Here was a guy that lived in the woods and robbed rich people so that he could drink and smoke as much crack as Lucky Eddy will sell.
Now they just go to shelters and then the next day panhandle beside major intersections. I think the shelters should require them to put on a talent show for the community. I wonder what kind of talents homeless people have. How about the ability to defecate oneself and show no sign of it happening? Or puppet shows with paper bags that they use to hide their alcohol with? I'll bet the one legged homeless prostitute named Jolene has many talents.
We could even charge admission, you know you have always wanted to see a public spectacle. This is why Bum-Fights was so successful. Hell, we could have a new version of Bum-Fights in UFC style arenas. It would be brutal and comedic at the same time. Maybe Jolene could be the ring girl!
Then the shelter could the use untalented ones and the non fighters to work, selling concessions and various mixed drinks. Sure they may eat or drink a portion of yours but that is part of the charm. Then shelters would no longer have to be tax exempt organizations. They could make enough money to pay back the governments and take care of the needs of the community at the same time.
Maybe they could even earn a reality TV show titled, "American Street Sleepers Got Talent".
We could vote each week as to which homeless person was most deserving of winning a job and a shitty apartment.
The possibilities are truly endless, just like the homeless problem we have in this country.

Basic CPR With My Favorite High School PE Coach

Today I attended my least favorite class in college this semester, 1st Aid & Safety.
Today was another reminder of why I don't particularly like this class as it involved touching other students and being touched by them. It's like a sex offenders dream.
The 1st day was on Monday and it started with the PE teacher taking a students cell phone and telling that person they can get it back after class by paying him $5. Wait, what? I know an Associates Degree in physical education doesn't pay very well, but he should be able to afford his own lunch money right? If I had been that student, me and Coach G I Joe would have been sitting with the Dean and I would be asking why I am paying for a high school teacher while I am in college. Last I heard, college was an institution of instruction. You aren't taught, you are offered instructions. Whether or not you listen to and take the instructions well or not is up to you. And taking a students cell phone? This isn't Junior High. I am paying you to be here and if I choose to check my Facebook status instead of listen to you lecture about your time as a Pee Wee Football coach that is my business. Pass or fail is on me not on you.
Today we started as we started the Monday class and he lectured and then we took a short break. After the break we went to the aerobics room with a yoga ball and some leg warmers and put on leotards and practiced some of the life saving policies that we learned today.
Let me say this...unless you are a very attractive person, if I see you need 1st Aid, well...sucks to be you.
As far as I am concerned I will never need this class. And if something happens to me and you aren't a female who was born a female and stayed that way, let me die. I do not want to be french kissed by some lonely old man who justifies his mouth rape as CPR.
So anyway now that we are ready to jazzercize, the teacher selects a student to be his partner. Now that is cool, I mean he needs to demonstrate on someone right? Right...except he deliberately chooses the most attractive girl in the class. This girl is maybe 18 years old and he proceeds to tell her to lie back and wait for him while Barry Manilow plays in the background. Okay so there wasn't music, but from the way he looked at her, I thought there would be.
He then paws at her a bit then makes us paw at each other. This part of the class creeped me out just a little. I don't like strangers touching me and I don't like other people enough to want to touch any of them.
I also am paranoid and I hate the idea of someone having their hand at my throat.
So, naturally my two partners and I are making a few jokes to ease the tension...we laugh a little but we do every exercise that Mr Health Teacher assigns.
I should also note that everyone else is making jokes too and everyone else is laughing.
But because I don't have the rack that Coach's "partner" does, I am accused of disrupting class. Wait you just spent time with your hand on an 18 year olds ass and staring at her chest and yet I am causing problems in class? Okay to be fair, he said my group was disruptive...but same thing.
Now sure I laughed, but I was no louder than anyone else that was there. The two guys that were with me were the same. But because it was 3 guys working together and not the group of hot chicks that was just as loud, we were trouble makers.
Then we 3 were asked to stay after class. I held my tongue because frankly speaking my mind to someone of lesser intelligence never works well for me anyway. And after class we were told that the three of us can't play together anymore.
Aww...that hurts my feelings...now that I can't be friends with these guys, can I partner up with the hot chick you *ahem* demonstrated on?

I Wrote You A Letter But Didnt Pay For This Parcel

Today I was asked what writing means to me by my very attractive English writing professor.
My response..."Writing provides me with a way to communicate ideas in order to facilitate my take over of the world."
Writing has existed since caveman days. It came about when an uppity Neanderthal wanted more cavemen to listen to his boring lectures on saber tooth tiger hunting.
Since then writing has evolved to cover every thing from education to entertainment. Propaganda to porn. Oh wait I am sorry I mean "erotic literature" *insert rolling eyes here*.
But what it is it that drives one to write?
Is it arrogance? Is it a need to explain? To entertain? Or just a way to sort yourself?
Maybe in some cases its all of these things.
At least it is in my case. See the fact is I am arrogant. And I feel my opinion is the only one that matters. And I feel the need to explain that fact. And since I do it like this, its quite often entertaining.
Like anything Basil Marceaux says, it will surprise and astound you.
Writing is almost always fiction especially when based on facts.
Like that Newton guy that wrote about gravity...like that is real.
And sometimes its to guide or mislead. This is because reading an authors work takes a lot on faith. But the same can be said of all religions.
Which is why devoted readers I am here to shepard you into Nirvana. Not the band but that wouldn't be bad either except the lead singer is dead and if we are watching him live, then we have bigger issues. Or we have discovered time travel. Just watch for monkeys bent on our destruction. And don't kill any bugs as that could start a zombie apocalypse.
But my writing is in fact a guide for you. Kind of like a paint by numbers to viewing the asinine. Some days I paint beautiful oil portraits and other days I throw paint in your face and laugh.
The point of writing is to convince skeptics to follow a line of thinking. Sort of like all the writings of science fiction author L Ron Hubbard. He managed to convince everyone that his books were true stories and made a fortune in the process.
I salute you Mr Hubbard. After all, aliens procreating with algae, and that bastard child evolving into modern forms of life is much easier to believe than many other creation stories.
So now that my true motive is revealed. Now that you know that I am indoctrinating you so I can take the world over. Will you keep reading or will you treat me like Stephen Kings newer stuff...only fit for kindling.

The Newest Frarority In Town

Now that I am a college student, I think it is my civic duty to start a new fraternity. I will call it Alpha Omega. Since my fraternity will the 1st one anyone would want to join and the last one you would ever say goodbye to.
It will also be the only fraternity that allows women to become members in and makes men and women co-habitate. So maybe calling it a Fraternity is a misnomer. It will be a Frarority.
Think of all the hazing rituals you can come up with. Streaking through the common room would be alot more interesting when your Frarority brothers and sisters are in there. Stealing womens underwear could lead to sleep overs. And Jello wrestling would have lots of participants.
Like the guys from Old School, our Frarority will in now way give back to the community. After all, they didn't give us anything so F*** em. The Frarority House will be just blocks off campus so that the school can't regulate  parties or drug use. Or the filming of ametuer porn.
We won't discriminate on anything except levels of attractiveness. Men, the uglier you are the better your chances of becoming a member. Women, the opposite is true for you.
Now before you protest this, think about how most of the ugly guys are smart enough to help you pass Chem.
What follows is a loose list of rules and regulations and policies.
Really the only rule is that you can't be cooler than me.
But that would be almost impossible, so I say the more the merrier. We will stay smashed and half dressed and sing songs about free love or prison. Or whatever it is your into.
Pets are welcome so long as they aren't birds or bears. I hate one and am afraid of the other.
As a self contained organization. You will be required to fratenize only with other Alpha Omegas or potential Alpha Omegas. Your sex partners can be any other group so long as they could potentially be one of us, but marriage and other unions are discouraged. If you get pregnant or get someone pregnant and they can't be converted, they will be...taken care of and never seen again. Our organization will not allow our sisters to be abandoned and if a non sister decides to not join our brothers "family" she will be disposed of.
We will ingest peyote with each moon rise. It will be a part of our bonding ritual. If peyote can't be acquired, we will instead trip on Acid or Shrooms. This is to free our minds and be more accepting of our programming...I mean our precepts.
Family that refuses to become honorary and paying members of Alpha Omega are not family any longer. These people will be cut off and forgotten.
Aliens procreated with monkeys and thus we were created. Never forget this lesson taught to us by L Ron Hubbard. We must drink the Kool-Aid and enter the new world order.
You will be required to give a lock of hair and a blood sample upon joining to the Frarority for cloning purposes. This is especially true of the beautiful girls that join as I may need to clone you for harem purposes.
You will be required to wear aluminum foil somewhere on your person to keep the government mutants from reading your minds.
You will donate 15% of all future wealth to the organization.
You will name your first born in accordance to our precepts.
Balloon animals are sacred and must never be consumed.
Saturday is our holy day and must always be celebrated with promiscuous activity and alcohol.
Other rules will follow as I think them up.

Sharks, Doctors, Gators And Bears Oh My!

Apparently I have something in common with Great White Sharks. We are both fascinated with the musical stylings of AC/DC.
Having been an acquaintance of Brian Johnson for several years, I have had the joys hearing stories about the times behind the music. But today we both learned something that neither of us knew about the frontman's band. Sharks are probably his biggest fans.
It seems that in Australia, if you play AC/DC underwater, sharks will come from miles to listen to the show. So what if the tickets cost you an arm and a leg.
In the sharks mind, its getting dinner and a show.
Speaking of death machines....Dr Jack Kevorkian died today at age 83. He was apparently self medicating. He died of an apparent overdose of the Mercitron machine. During Kevorkians long life, he assisted over 100 patients with committing suicide. He spent 8 years in prison for what some have called mercy missions and others said was serial killing. The bodies of those he "helped" were found in cars, campgrounds, vans, and freezers across Detroit. People traveled from miles around to be a part of his killer show.
On Thursday, the personal journals of Ted Kaczynski aka the Unabomber, went on sale on an online auction. The journals were purchased for the paltry some of $40,000. Other items of Mr Kaczynskis that went on sale included a hoodie and a pair of sunglasses that sold for a combined $20,000. Jay-Z can't even get that for his clothing line. Maybe some fashion designer should get the rights to his clothes and make a line of clothing called Udabomb.
And lastly, Police Officers from Independence Missouri tried unsuccessfully to kill a fake alligator. They opened fire on the vicious beast and watched in horror as bullets bounced off it. On the advice of the State Wildlife Commission, the officers unloaded enough ordinance to take down a Panzer tank...to no avail.
Turns out the alligator was a lawn decoration placed near a pond to keep children from trespassing. The owner had placed the cement reptile there several years earlier and a nosey neighbor called cops about the creature that had wandered into his yard earlier then was hanging out near the pond.
And thats the news from around the nation...

For The Record Hun I Can't Stand You

Today I would like to make an apology. I know a few years ago, two days after we broke up, you woke up and found me sleeping naked on your dining room table. Your house was trashed and what appeared to be a small petting zoo was running all over.

The worst part were the two women that you never met before that passed out at the foot of your sons bed. And the fact that they were tripping on acid.

You just screamed in what could only be described as abject horror mixed with longing desire. 

Once you stopped, and I grabbed my clothes. We both noticed that your whole family had come into the dining room to see what had happened to you. While I think your dad was at 1st furious, that feeling was stolen when Candy and Renae wandered in naked and making out with each other. 

See, what I never told you was what happened that night. 

See, the day before you and I had a falling out. And heart broken, I went to a local bar and got wasted. The bar turned out to be a hangout of a midget named Barry. 

Barry was a circus performer and was ticked because the bearded lady broke up with him. So in my drunken stupor I agreed to help him get revenge. We drove to the fairgrounds and set lose the three giant pythons into Veronicas tent while she slept. Then we saw that some of the other animals had escaped, so after a few fruitless minutes of trying to get them back in the cage we decided to just load in our truck for the night. While driving around intoxicated, we passed the Cheetah club and decided nothing says strippers like a truck load of llamas. We proceeded to go inside and that is where I met Renae. 

She was a cute little brunette with beautiful blue eyes. Too bad she was a whore. But she seemed like a nice girl at the time. So we paid her to party with us and she said sure but only if her girlfriend could as well. 

We decided why not and we went back to my place for most of the night.

Then around 4 am I wanted waffles. But I didn't have any, and since I hated you anyway, I figured I would just come over with my newfound friends to have breakfast. 

And now you know how we ended up at your house.

Now, for my apology....I hope that you didn't eat any of the syrup. I was so mad at you that I added a special ingredient to the syrup. So, if you ate it or your kids did or your mom and dad...I am sorry.

I'm Sure It Will Be The 21st Of Something

As we all know the world came to an abrupt and tragic end on May 21st of this year. It was horrible with earthquakes and tragedy and...wait that was just my relationship dying the world is still here...
So, how are the two not related? After all, if my world ended, the selfish part of me wishes everyone else's should have is well. Which is why I am happy to say that evangelical Christian Broadcaster Harold Camping has said that he was wrong about his prediction of the world ending on May 21st 2011. He said that the world will actually end Oct 21st 2011.
The significance of the 21st cannot be understated. After all the Mayans and Nostradamus said the world would end on different months of the same year on the 21st of those months.
Harold was asked how he felt about the people cashing in their life savings and going on spending sprees thinking the world would end. He simply replied, "Oops. Things happen."
So now after some nonsensical math skills and illogical equations that only he could interpret and found within the bible. I don't remember that verse, but it's in his copy so it must be true, even if it isn't in anyone else's.
After putting billboards up all across the interstates of America (including one I just saw Sunday on I 75 just north of Tampa) and preaching the end is near, you would think he would show some humility and feel bad about making a few people homeless.
But nope Mr Camping just said "Shit happens. I will get it right next time."
But he hasn't gotten it right yet...in 1994 he claimed that Jesus would be returning before the year ended and taking the righteous away. If he did take them away, then obviously Mr Camping wasn't one of them.
So since Jesus came in 94 and took the righteous with him, why does Mr Camping believe he alone knows the date and time of the last day of the world? Well the answer to that is simple...He is bat shit crazy.
That is my clinical definition anyways. Please refute me and provide evidence to the contrary if you can. I love how he is now claiming that Oct 21st was always the actual date...but his billboards said May 21st is the date and the bible guarantees it.
I guarantee that Mr Camping should stay off of LSD. I wonder what angels/demons spoke to him. I know I didn't. I am not quite ready for the end of the world. Still lots to do. I will concede that I think time is counting down.
But until the last bit of sand falls through the hourglass, I have Mr Camping to make me laugh.
I say it will be Feb 21st of some year....thats the 21st I am betting on.