Ramblin’, ramblin’, rammmm ………………………. Blin. (part one)
My favorite part of watching fireworks is how at the end they have a huge finish where they set everything off at once. Here goes:
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.