My Weblog

Same Sex Marriage? Duh!

Isn’t the “same sex” ultimately what all marriages are about?   I’ve been married 16 years and there haven’t been many paradigm shifting innovations in that department.  Not that I’m complaining.  I’m just saying.   I must also say I find the thought of making “same sex marriages” Illegal, kinda funny.  Imagine a after sex your spouse gets up, stomps out of bed and calls the cops to have you arrested.  “Well, officer, it was pretty much the same as the last 17 1/2 times.  I’m filing charges.”

Imagine the strain this would put on the prison system.  They’d have to re open GITMO.Of course we'd have to change the name to "GIT NONE."   “Same Sex Marriage” is just another example of how a misnomer makes the government look slimy.   A more accurate name would be Single Gender Marriage.   Ah, but that doesn’t have that word “sex” in it and we all know sex sells, especially if it’s “different sex”.   It’s odd that the opposition to single gender marriage would call it “same sex”, when in fact it’s the “different sex’ that gives them the willies.  Then again, maybe they did it on purpose.  Who in their right mind would want the same sex… ‘til death? 

Boom! Happy 4th of July!

The problem with Fireworks isn’t gun powder, it’s alcohol.  And the real danger starts long before the first fuse is ever lit.  The real scary stuff starts when a couple of drunk good old boys actually walk into the fireworks store.   First off, their both about to spend their kids college education on a bunch garbage that blows up.  Then they’re going to put 12 grocery bags full of explosives in the trunk and their drunk butts behind the wheel.  Yeah! Yeehaaa!  But what’s really dangerous is how the creative process works when you combine Fireworks and Fire water.  It’s like a demonic possession.  Guys get in the store and start thinking things like,  “ What if we duct tape seven or twelve of them Armageddon rockets around a couple of them Megabanger Roman candles.  Then, Scooter,  you can go climb that big old tree in Larry’s backyard and tie up about 40 them Vesuvius Flaming Showers way up in the top, and I’ll just keep firing them rockets at ’em until that tree lights up Def Leppard concert.  That’ll be cool won’t it?  Just help me remember to get the kids to stand back a little bit.” 

What’s your best Fireworks story?

“Baby, Just open up and let it out.”

Heads up men!  If you’re ever with a woman and you hear the words, “Baby, Just open up and let it out”,  just run. Run far away because you’re about to get sucked into an abyss from which there may be no return.    You hear all the time about how men are poor communicators in relationships.  Experts say we need to get in touch with our feelings and learn to share them more like women.  Others say, men and women are just different and therefore communicate in different ways. They suggest we learn to embrace our differences that we might better openly share our lives.  Well, I got news for you brother - that’s a Valdez load bowl Boas. Yes sir, The “experts” are floating on the Presidential Winner in the Tournament of Turds Parade.  Men keep feelings to themselves not because we’re emotional Neanderthals, but because we’ve just learned not to do stupid things.   Of course, not all guys are blessed with such insight. Occasionally you'll see some poor schmo walking around with that look on his face like he’s just been forced to have "I love Kenny G" tattooed on his ass in front of twenty thousand people at a Molly Hatchet concert.  Ask him what happened, and you’ll hear, “She wanted me to open up and be honest, promising she wouldn’t be judgmental.   So I told her, I said, honey, I know how much you love me and I know deep down you don’t mean it when you say things like, ‘hey you lazy asshole how about a little help with these dishes’.  Really, I know you are just asking for a little helping in your own charming way.  But George’s wife says  stuff like that to him and as you know, she a psycho bitch from hell,, So when you say that, I think of him and you kinda remind me of her.”

Now here’s a decent guy trying to open up and share true feelings, hoping to show he can be more of a soul-mate than a primate. But the real truth is revealed in her response that goes roughly like, “ You low life, lazy, whiny chunk of fatback! You just called me a bitch? After all I do for you?  I’m trying to share something wonderful here.  I can’t even believe you have the guts to say something like that to my face.   I’ll tell you what, since you love that fart sniffer George so much, why don’t you just pack you smelly ass clothes and go live with him.”

“But wait honey, you’ve misunderstood…”

“No!,” she screams, “I understand perfectly!  You have no respect for me and  no idea how good you’ve got it.  Well, mister, you’ve just bleeped the lovin’ right out of your ever-lovin’ life. Now clear my space! I never wanted to hear your pathetic whining again.”

Well now…  it seems “open up and let it out” didn’t exactly mean what you thought, did it.  And YOU are the idiot for not knowing better.  It really has nothing to do with communicating feelings and intimacy.  It’s much more basic than that.  What she really wants is for you to drop your drawers and let  “it” out.
That way she can then slather up your moose knuckle with some of that pink jelly stuff.  I'm not talking about sex salve, I'm talking Sterno!  Napalm for household use.  And as your eyes start to roll back in your head, thinking you’re getting something you’re not, she’ll reach for a Bic and a can of hair spray and turn your twig and berries into a fondue party.  That’s what “open up and let it out” is all about.  And you’d better make sure there are no sledge hammers in the house, because she’ll be happy to help stamp you out.  Stop, drop and roll the heck out of town.

Consider yourself warned.  Next time your beloved asks you to “open up and let your feelings out”, hunch over real quick, grab your stomach and tell her you’re feelin’ is a killer shoonami coming on. Then run like hell and lock yourself in the throne room for half a day. With any luck, she’ll forget about it. 

Goodbye.

I will miss George Carlin.  I grew up listening to him and he helped shape how I see the world.   He told the truth like no other and helped us laugh at our absurdities.  He reminded us that we are all flawed and yet somehow amazing all at the same time. 

Deep Sleep

Ok, so we’ve all had our fair share of weird dreams.  And of course there are the college dreams where we forget to study or can’t find a class.  There are the flying dreams.  And of course we’ve all had the dream where we’re a shellfish being chased by bridesmaids carrying butcher knives and hot butter.  Lately, however, I’ve had dreams that really disturb me.  A few weeks ago I actually dreamed I couldn’t go to sleep.  I can’t even begin to describe how totally screwed up that was.  That’s a night in hell I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

And then last night I dreamed I was at a baseball game that several old college buddies actually invited me to many years ago.  I don't remember why I couldn’t go but I didn’t.  Anyway, last night I dreamed I did go and I went back in time.   I saw them and tried to explain that this was all a dream, that it is actually 2008 and somehow I made it back. I tried to prove it by telling them who they married and how many kids they have and so on. I even told them who won the baseball game.  They just ignored me.   What was that all about?  Is that what it’s like to get old?  Am I dreaming about what it will be like to be old before I get there?  Sleepless nights and being ignored?  Surely not.  Someone please butter me up and let me fly again.

Just a moment!

Freaky things can happen in the advertising universe.  Like when commercials collide on the air that shouldn’t and cause dissonance in the symphony of our day.  I refer to such disruptions as flADulence. Examples of flADulence are when an ad for a Skydiving school appears right next one for a funeral home or you see a commercial for diarrhea relief followed by one for Hormel Chili.  FlADulence doesn’t happen often, but when it does it can linger in your mind and even cause hallucinations.  Last night while watch CNN, I witnessed a new strain of FlADulence.   A commercial for Cialis was immediately followed by one for AT&T wireless.  This one was most unexpected.   Cialis promises, “When the Moment is right, you’ll be ready”.  AT&T followed it up with “Seize your Moment”.    In a matter of minutes my mind was poisoned with the idea that next time I have need for an erection lasting four hours or more, I can just seize my iPhone and call it in.  AT&T Cialis.  Your horny world...delivered.

The Most Important show on TV

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GG7sj2APpc
Boston Legal is brilliant.

Huh?

For the first time, I watched the show "LOST".   It is without question the most accurately titled show in television history.  "WHAT THE F..." would have been a good name too.

Pipemares

There can’t be many sights goofier than a 23 year-old guy smoking a pipe.  No I’m not talking about the Keith Richards variety.   I mean a pipe with that smelly tobacco that reminds you of some freaky tangential relative from your childhood. Friday,  I’m having my lunch out by the park just off of Main Street. The street and park  were busy because there was an art festival that weekend.  As I’m headed for a bench, I see this guy smoking a pipe  coming my way.   I just about blew root beer out of my nose.  This tall pudgy, pasty white kid, wearing light khakis and a white Polo shirt over a white t-shirt looked like a cross between Douglas MacArthur and Frosty the Snowman.   He walks on by leaving me to wonder if this might be some new trend I’ve missed out on.  Are pipes hip?  Have people decided that green hair, tattoos and nipple rings are just too common and that if you really want to express your individuality you got to get your Burl Ives on?  It gives a Prince Albert a whole new …old … meaning.  I just can’t keep up.  About five minutes later, puff the magic moron comes walking back by again.  The it hits me.  I’ve been around the block enough times to know when I see a guy cruising chicks.   Puff daddy here was actually trying to meet women.  I'm guessing old women. At this point I started looking around in the bushes for a hatched slimy space egg like thing because this guy obviously ain’t from around here.  Should I open a pipe store or call Men in Black? 

Can Wii win the war?

“Fight fire with fire’ could be the deadliest and dumbest phrase in the English language. The way to fight fire is to rob it of fuel.  Of course, one way to accomplish this is to get ahead of the fire and with a controlled fire, burn away the fuel in its path. Hence the phrase.  To value that phrase as a universal truth or wisdom for defeating all adversity is just plain stupid.  You can’t fight poverty with poverty, or disease with disease.  And though you can’t fight stupidity with more stupidity, it often makes for good reality TV.  So how many “fight fire with fire” people do you know?  It seems a lot of people like to fight debt with more debt. And how about George W?  He appears to believe in fighting hatred and killing with hatred and killing.  Is it really working?  I can’t really tell.

How is it that a so-called “Super Power” is having such a tough time in Iraq? We have truly extraordinary men and women serving in our nation’s military. We have super weapons and the most advanced technology on the planet.  But I’m beginning to wonder if our true Super Power lies somewhere else. Maybe we’ve got our Super Power confused.   If someone asks me I’d have to say our greatest strength is that Americans know how to have fun.   No nation on earth invests more time, energy and money to have a good time than we do.   Maybe we should try that.  Maybe we should fight “fire” with fun. Think of the money it would save.  Imagine how much easier it would be to recruit for the military.  “Uncle Sam wants you to have a killer time spreading fun all around the world!”   Hot dang! I’ve been drafted.  Let the good times roll!

Rather than bomb Iraq with explosives, for a fraction of the cost, we could sneak in one night and absolutely blow everybody away with free, brand new 47 inch flat screen TVs and  Sony Play Stations. Plus a Nintendo Wii.  They’re tons of fun.  Imagine it.  It would be like Christmas morning all over the Middle East.  They wouldn’t know what to think. Shock and Awwwright! If they really like war, send them some good war games.  Surely it's more fun to blow yourself up knowing you can re-spawn somewhere and try again.  For those who prefer the outdoors, how about if we fly over and drop about 65,000 sets of Golf Clubs.   I can’t think of anybody that would rather hide all day in some blown up building, with no cold beer or working toilet instead of getting out and playing a little golf.   Who knows, Iraq might put up a Masters Champion someday.  Of course he’d probably just play from the bunkers, but hey, winning is winning.  Now some "political correctionsness officer" might say, “There’s nothing fun about the loss of human life.”  Exactly! That’s the whole point!  When someone dies having fun, it’s a tragic accident, not the “cost of war”.  Experts say, “the extremists hate us for our beliefs.”  Maybe they hate us because they haven’t had any fun in a thousand years and WE HAVE. So maybe we should put our True Ultimate Super Power to work and show pissed off people how to stop being pissed off and have a good time for a change.   Fight fire with fun.  Play for Peace.  Isn’t that what Freedom’s really all about?