Vehicular Etiquette
Scenario: You are traveling northbound on a two-lane road. A vehicle in the oncoming lane is approaching, and the driver appears to give you some sort of familiar acknowledgement, be it a wave, point, nod, etc. But the wave was issued so late that you do not have enough time to both assess who dealt it, and respond accordingly based on gender and relationship. A suitable response directed at one of your chaps might be a strong, index-finger point, whereas the same motion directed at a lady may seem too urgent and severe.
But neverthless, by now whoever saw you with ample time to issue a wave either feels a) Like you blew him off, or, more likely, b) That
he is at fault because he knows (being familiar with the whole system) that his wave was, indeed, eleventh-hour.
So, still not knowing exactly who it was, you do what comes naturally, but proves to be utterly useless, and look in the rear-view mirror. While carrying this out, you realize that very little, if anything, can be determined from the sight of the back of someone's car rapidly speeding away, and you feel slightly embarrassed for looking.
This seems to be a daily, stressful occurrence for me. To rectify this, I've removed all mirrors from my vehicle. This way, when a car passes, waves, and I look for the reflection, all I'll be looking at is the tinted upper strip of windshield glass. I'll then laugh, point at the windshield, say "Touche, tinted strip of glass; you have bested me again!" and continue driving through the cemetery.
This Day in History!
May 9, 1948
Two hapless pioneers of American Aeronautics make the fatal mistake of venturing into unknown planetary conditions sporting faceless helmets and dishwashing gloves.
The Coming of Knee-Hemoth is Nigh!
Be it intriguing or not, here's a thought: If the top rung of any given ladder is labeled as
Not Safe, why, then, is a rung even there? Why not eliminate the temptation to push the ladder past its optimum stability point, as well as the need for a warning sticker, by abolishing the said rung of treachery? But then, the ladder manufacturer would still probably cover its ass by placing a new warning on the structure, akin to
Do Not Step Into Gaping Chasm. Now, I know some of you may be thinking me daft because I have been told before that "The top rung is for knee-resting, balance-related purposes only, you dumb." But this logic is silly. If this was the case, why would it be constructed exactly the same as all the other rungs? Shouldn't it be specifically designed for knees and contoured for comfort? Apparently not.
But not to worry friends! As you can see from the prototype, the most efficient ladder ever conceived,
The Knee-Hemoth, will be available to order as soon as I acquire the materials necessary for mass-production. That, and some initiative. I mean, it's a ladder. Who gives a shit?
Fun With Ampersands!
Well, it seems that Lance has done it again. He has forced
the country into its annual state of pseudo-excitement about cycling for one final month. Hopefully, when it comes out that he was on some sort of non cancer-related drugs the whole time, the media will deliver me my seven months back. And I am
not paying s&h. You hear that,
Media?! Well, maybe I'll pay for the ampersand, but I will shell out a
cent for neither s nor h. By the way, this year Lance is not sporting the colors of the United States Postal Service, but is instead riding for Team Discovery Channel (a reference for fans of Martin Prince).
In addition to s&h, here's a great list of other seemingly unrelated words that can be linked together with an ampersand, followed by the average citizen's reaction upon hearing them: Macaroni & Cheese (Super! Not to mention delicious!), Liberals & Conservatives (Oooooo, talk about an odd couple! This should provide some hilarious situation-comedy!), Sodom & Gomorrah (Feelin kinda weird...I'm not sure if I like this one...hope the next one doesn't make me this uncomfortable...), salt & pepper (That's better...unless this is a reference to that rap group...move on!
Move on!), Sid & Marty Krofft (Good. Let H.R. Pufnstuf flow over me, morphing deep-rooted bigotry into childhood nostalgia for my cabin-dwelling uncle's funny-tasting candy)
And the musical group of the day that is probably printed on a Japanese t-shirt somewhere, is...
Neutral Milk Hotel
Beware, Dr. Bloodsworth
Recently it has come to my attention (along with Larry King's) that a fine fellow by the name of Kirk Bloodsworth has been released from death row after an indeterminate amount of time (it most likely can be determined, but I don't really care). This after DNA evidence cleared him of the charges that he raped and killed a nine-year-old girl.
Wow.
That's a shocker. A girl turns up dead, and the squad car shows up at Bloodsworth's house. Some real detective work certainly must've been put into that one.
Overly Dramatic Police Chief:
"What? Raped and stabbed? Sounds like the calling card of...Dr. Bloodsworth! All units respond! (inaudible whispers) What did you just tell me?! Two small wounds above the left calf?! The Mad Puncturist is at work here boys! Did you hear me?! That sick bastard...(Continued chaotic shouting)"No! I...I was afraid of this. Lungs filled with ajvar? Dammit. It looks like The Cuisine Congester is in on this too. Holy fuck. This looks like a big one here boys. And we're gonna blow this motherfucker wide open. Let's Roll!
Black Tar Investments: A Sound and Fulfilling Future
Here's a question to start off the evening: Does the purchase and subsequent wearing of a
Grateful Dead t-shirt require that I increase my consumption of illicit substances? In reflecting on this, I'm reminded of the time that Jerry Seinfeld claimed, if offered the opportunity to take part in a
menage a trois*, he would refuse, based upon the fact that if he were to participate in any kind of orgy, he would have to get new drapes and grow a mustache. So, going along with this line of thinking, one can conclude that I would in fact be forced to consume my fair share of drugs to warrant the display. That, and listen to some of their music.
*As I wasn't about to type this into a search engine, the spelling will remain as is. You all know what I'm referring to...(if ellipses could be suggestively italicized, they would be used in this instance)Another helpful hint to get you through whatever problem you may be having. It doesn't matter whether you have just received a sliver from your sorry attempt at building your own deck, or recently had a beloved childhood pet pass on...
the bumper of a Chrysler! Zing! Sorry. That was tasteless. Like a rice patty. But seriously, if any problem should ever arise, just listen to some James Taylor, and you'll melt away.
I don't know if anybody else has seen this show, but today, while I was scanning through the channels in search of some adult-oriented, TV-14 situations, I stumbled upon a talk show in which audience members shout rapid-fire questions at the host regarding which stocks to invest in and/or avoid. The host, in turn, shouts even more violently his answers, all the while sweatily pacing across his set, framed by cameramen who, evidently, have frequent, on-air bouts with epilepsy.
And this is where people are getting advice about their financial well-being. If anyone is actually thinking about considering the advice that was spewed at them from the type of "expert" that only MSNBC would give a show to, please also consider: An addiction to heroin. Not only will heroin get you the same financial results as would the maniacal market advice, but it grants you a satisfaction that a bear market rarely, if ever, provides.
And let me leave you with a delightful ironic situation that happened to me this very day. As I was returning from cleaning the dirt off my boots in a large puddle of rainwater, I stepped directly in a patch of thick, gravyesque mud! Can you believe that?! After I had just finished
cleaning the boots! They're now dirtier than ever! What a marvelous ironical situation!
Rex Morgan MD: Edited For Your Protection and Enjoyment
Mid-Year Resolutions
Or, more appropriately, 63% of the way through the year resolutions. Normally, when the populace makes their resolutions, the month is January, and indeed, very cold. And nothing is more of a hurdle in the race to achieve those annual goals, (most of which are unbelievably unattainable anyway, and therefore, a lifelong exercise in futility) than the combination of leftover holiday meat pies, and hours upon hours indoors. This is why I will not resolve to do anything each year until the corn is at least knee-high. So without further adieu, I present to you my Mid-Year resolutions MMV!
- Incorporate the word "however" into everyday speech. In this way, I intend for approx 12% of all my utterances to come with a drawback, leaving all those within earshot slightly disappointed.
- Turn left significantly less. Following a minor smash-up involving my front left Camry corner, I was hopeful that both the headlights and turn signal would still function. However, this was not the case. In order to accomplish this seemingly impossible, primarily clockwise feat, I have fashioned a device out of string and tape that prevents my wheel from rotating any further than 45 degrees counterclockwise. If I attempt to go beyond, a pen that has been secured to the steering wheel will depress the "PLAY" button on an adjacent tape recorder, which will serve up a verbal chastising in the form of "You shan't turn left!" voiced by John Cleese.
- Adhere more strictly to the creed of the lumberjack. Examples: 1) Increase net syrup/flapjack intake 2) Schedule valiant public displays of facial hair 3) Buy a cross-cut saw
The Sargent Files
Sunday, July 17 will probably not go down as an out-of-the-ordinary day, or even a day that will be remembered after a few more have passed, but I shall chronicle it to the best of my abilities anyway. The following events may, or may not have been embellished to pique the interest of the reader, as well as the typist.
7:48 AM - Was awakened by the shrill laughter of what I deduced to be a woman approximately twelve feet beneath me. Even through the floorboards and carpet padding I knew the laughter to be polite and forced. The kind of pseudo-chuckling that serves only to ensure that the failing story-teller not have his soul shattered with the realization that he was, indeed, booed out of open-mic nite for a reason.
Between 8:33-8:39 AM - Laughter stops, and I fall back asleep. I refrained from officially getting up for the day, and opted to ride out the piercing tones, figuring that the horrible anecdote must be almost over, and that the man mustn't have that much material. Holy Christ was I wrong. I even attempted to recreate the trademark stunt that has been used on every sitcom when loud, wacky neighbors are being a nuisance, and pulled the pillow around my ears. But this did little more than impede respiration, so it was short-lived and ineffective.
10:24 AM - Official wake-up. Feasted on a nutritious breakfast consisting of toasted bread along with a delightful treat of juice that had been extracted from apples.
11:02 AM-3:22 PM - Contemplated the outcome of a bare-knuckles brawl between Dick Sargent and Dick York. Concluded that Sargent would prevail in most scenarios, due to York's degenerative spinal disease.
5:15 PM - Another deep thinking session. Topic:
At Halloween, why are pumpkins carved with spooky, angry facial features? Are people supposed to be frightened of a gourd's menacing, evil grin? What is the worst that a dead gourd could be plotting? Retrieval of it's moist innards? Dressing its gaping wounds to prevent infection and rotting?I came up with very few answers, only further questions.
This Day in History!
January 17, 1987A breakthrough in genetic research results in the creation of two testosterone-fueled canine supersoldiers! A third canine soldier, a female, is also created, but is, alas, little more than eye candy.
