Ramblin’, ramblin’, rammmm ……………. Blin (part 1 of 3)

(originally posted 3/6/2015)

We are stardust and our ass is grass. While it is true we all carry around a few molecules of Abraham Lincoln, it is also true we carry a few from Hitler as well. We are indeed a little bit country… and a little bit rock n’ roll. We are told on a daily basis what conclusions to reach and every day we are told how to feel. When to be happy and when it is appropriate to be sad. A laughtrack has been provided. Love and hate are the only fuel we respond to. We doth protest too much. Everyone is so afraid of offending each other but it’s healthy to get offended. Don’t believe me? Go fuck yourself.  I think the commercial where the wife comes downstairs at 3 a.m. to find her husband talking on the phone to Jared from State Farm would be funnier if, when they show Jared, he’s sitting in his cubicle with his khakis around his ankles whacking it.  A sentence I’d like to find a good home for: Nobody wanted to alarm Dr. Clock.  Dogs are man’s best friend because they are cool with farts. None of the eye-rolling you get with cats and ferrets.  When deciding which life insurance policy is right for you make sure to take a moment and consider the recommendation of a former celebrity.  Some people might think that I don’t need a riding mower and that I could mow my 1/4 acre with a push mower. What they don’t appreciate is the reaction of passing ladies when I hit the hydraulics. The lawn might get an uneven cut with all the bouncing but a player’s got to play.  I wonder if filmmakers realize that by making action sequences that have gone from improbable to a series of physically impossible events mindlessly strung together with explosions and executed by characters that seem immune from harm, they are making movies less enjoyable.  Don’t kid yourself … Stephen Hawking wants a blowjob. See? Right away you start thinking of reasons why he wouldn’t want one but the truth is he does.  I hate when you’re walking in your neighborhood and a neighbor you’ve never met drives by and waves at you. If you don’t know somebody, don’t wave. People will assume you’re friendly then later when the police find three dead hookers in his basement word will spread that you were friends with him and then the next thing you know the police will be searching your basement and finding your dead hookers. Isn’t that always how it seems to go? If you don’t know somebody, don’t wave.  Why do I resent Will Smith buying his dopey-looking kid another movie to star in? Because somewhere DJ Jazzy Jeff’s son Amir Mitchell-Townes is sitting waiting by the phone.  If you were a lake and heard the expression “Like water off a duck,” you’d have to wonder why it wasn’t the other way around.  Why was it every time he walked past a graveyard, he heard whistling?  As Clay drove down the street in his minivan, he thought of the million or so reasons stopping him from becoming a stunt driver. Fear of heights wasn’t one of them. He was scared of high places, it was just that it didn’t play a part in why he wasn’t a stunt driver. One of the very few things about him that didn’t.  The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony/concert is a yearly reminder of everything that is broken in our culture. A formal institution to recognize a genre of music that was by definition supposed to be anti-establishment and fueled by the spirit of rebellion? Now it’s a corporate event run by the guys in suits and all the spineless bands buy into it. Pathetic. Our only hope is that they induct Great White next year.  What is it about TV cameras? The reporter can be sitting there giving a solemn recap of the number of dead and in the background there will always be that guy grinning and waving like an idiot. I bet as soon as the little red light turns off he shakes his head in a daze and wonders what just happened.  Tis the season when ESPN’s Sportscenter Top 10 feels compelled to include a WNBA highlight. “At number 10, Suzy Chickasorous finishes a layup.”  I know many of you spend good money to have gypsies place curses on people you don’t like, which for the record I consider money well spent; so let me suggest one for those who have done you wrong but nothing too terrible. Have the gypsy switch their snot and ear wax. They can try all they want to blow their ears but they will be unsuccessful.  To me the epitome of disappointment is when I’m looking at the TV guide channel for the upcoming evening’s viewing options and only seeing Harry… because the show starts in an hour so the whole title is cut off but then finding out it’s actually Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone instead of Harry and the Hendersons. That’s true disappointment to me.  Here’s the thing about running at a moose. At first it seems like a good idea. Your friends are laughing and it’s still an awfully long way off and it’s sure to run away when it sees you coming. Then as you get closer and it doesn’t move you realize just how fucking big a moose is. And they have this great rack of pointy antlers and you’re almost there and it slowly turns and looks at you. It’s best not to run at a moose. Bathroom tip #37: If, as I’m peeing, you’re responsible for the series of loud grunts and distressing groans as you pass your 3-flush gorilla turd then at least wait until I’m done washing my hands before you come lumbering out of the stall sweaty and red-faced. Just sit there on the bowl a minute and reflect on the horrible dietary decisions that led you to this sorry incident. I really don’t want to know what you look like.  There are far too many adults who heard “wipe that silly smirk off your face” as a child and ended up taking that horrible advice.  5 things you’ll never hear out loud: 1. It goes without saying that I was absolutely emulsified. 2. Needless to say I was completely emulsified. 3. As you can imagine I was totally emulsified. 4. It goes without saying that I was utterly emulsified. 5. As you might guess I was thoroughly emulsified. Why would you never hear these said out loud? I refer you to the definition: e-mul-si-fy verb To create a stable mixture of two liquids that normally would not mix together by forcing one to disperse in the other as droplets. Generally requiring the adsorption of a molecule with solubilities in both to achieve the dispersion.  I think if I developed the ability to speak with animals the first thing I’d do is convince the bulls in Pamplona to walk down the narrow cobblestone streets in a relaxed and orderly fashion thereby ruining the encierro celebration for everyone. Fuck St. Fermin.  Yesterday I was at a traffic light watching an old guy come out of the post office when out of nowhere a huge truck went flying by and sounded the loudest horn I’d ever heard in my life. The old guy dropped all his packages and just fell over on his side like one of those fainting goats. It was awesome. Don’t ask me how he was and ruin it for me.  I don’t understand people who do puzzles. If you like the picture just buy a print. You wouldn’t buy a toaster in 2,000 pieces.  Really? What part of “There she is, Miss America. There she is, your ideal” did Iowa not understand? Are we really going to load her on a float and endure her either dropping the bouquet of roses every two seconds or waving that stump around and causing all the children at the parade to have nightmares? We’ve gone insane! We can’t even have a decent demeaning beauty pageant anymore.  I accidentally purchased a box of Hot Pockets with the instructions written in Spanish. I found out when I went to see how long to put them in the microwave and it said “2 minutos.” Having no idea what the conversion rate between minutos and minutes is- I’ve never been very good with things like miles to kilometers or Fahrenheit to Celsius- I just assumed it would be roughly the exchange rate of the peso to the dollar. I put the Hot Pocket in for 26 minutes. This was not correct … but the folks from the fire department got a good laugh.  When is the last time you saw a retarded person smoking? What does that say about smoking?  Even retarded people aren’t retarded enough to smoke. That would make a great anti-smoking ad. A retarded person standing there and the caption says “Cigarettes? What … do I look retarded?”  Trying to write but two flies start furiously flying around me and I’m not sure if they’re fighting or fucking but whichever they’re doing they’re doing loudly and I’m sure I’ve read that flies shit every time they land so when they both land on my leg the story is done. Frustrated I begin to stand to start the short walk back into the house when the flies return. They buzz past my head as if encouraging me to continue.  So I do. While no one can argue that you’re intentions aren’t good, if you own a funeral home, don’t sponsor a little league team. Just don’t.  If you ask me, everyone should be an equal balance of rubber and glue. Which goes a long way in explaining why nobody ever asks me.  Let’s take a moment to thank Dr. Henry Faulds for inventing the process of recording inked impressions of “skin furrows” on the finger. The process of fingerprinting was much easier than recording the only other known unique furrows on the human body at the time and quickly replaced taking a print of the suspect’s anus. Both police and suspects everywhere were grateful. Take a look back at criminal files before 1880 and it looks like the most disturbing collection of Rorschach tests you’ve ever seen.  Just once I’d like get out of bed like a wrestler about to be tagged in as opposed to wishing I was still blissfully unaware of my surroundings. Hurling myself through the ropes and into my day.  “Can you count, suckers? I say, the future is ours… if you can count! Now, look what we have here before us. We got mackerel sitting next to bay anchovies. We’ve got threadfin herring right by horse-eye jacks. Nobody is eating nobody. That… is a miracle. And miracles is the way things ought to be. You’re swimming right now with nine thousand fish from 100 species. And there’s over a hundred more genus nearby. That’s 1.8 million in the possible bait ball. 3.6 million, counting indigenous forage fish, and 1.8 million more, not organized, but ready to school: 5.4 million! Now, there ain’t but 20,000 sailfish in the whole ocean. Can you dig it? Can you dig it? Can you dig it?!” – Cyrus the sardine.  If you’re a Native American actor you must be pretty discouraged. They finally make a movie out of the Lone Ranger and you can’t even get the part of Tonto. Tonto!  Johnny Depp is the Native American version of Al Jolson.  “Me heap love ya’, me heap love ya’…”  The scene in The Shining where he types 100 pages of “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” really seemed to speak to me so I sat down and duplicated it. Of course, with the ability to copy and paste I was able to do it in under two minutes. Now I’m looking for an axe but my heart really isn’t in it.  The countdown to an award show for award shows has begun. Theoretically, all you have to do is win “Best Acceptance Speech” one time and then you could win it in perpetuity.  It occurs to me that I possess and all the writing skills that most people look for in a homeless person.  By noon on any given day the contents of my internet history folder would preclude me from ever holding public office. Or teaching at an all-girls school. Or even showing my face in decent society. Sobering.