That cop is as strong as Superman

The attorney for Mayor of Lawrence, Massachusetts, Willie Lantigua, spoke about the security of the to-be-recounted ballots ‘doubting that the National Archives are as secure.’ This bold statement comes as reporters take pictures of the electrical tape being manually torn from its spool by a police officer obviously possessing super-human strength while adhering the theft-thwarting ribbon of impenetrability to the door and its frame, thus sealing the coveted ballots from access.

I’m sure that he’s right; the National Archives probably doesn’t have theft-proof electrical tape on its doors.

Pulp Fiction Scene

Assignment:
Describe the last time you were surprised by the intensity of a feeling you had about something, or were surprised at how strongly you reacted to something you thought wouldn’t be a big deal.

The first time that I can remember openly laughing at the presence of something horrible on the silver screen was with Pulp Fiction in surprise reaction after Marvin’s brains were accidentally strewn about the ’74 Chevy Nova (driven by Jules) due to Vincent’s haphazard holding of his gun. Granted, this example may not be completely on mark with the assignment, but the notion that ‘something so plainly gruesome could be funny’ has stuck with me ever since that viewing. And thinking on it a bit more, it was the only time I laughed at something so macabre. Thank you, Quentin Tarantino.

Your new iPhone app is only slightly better than my old one

I was talking to my friend Joe (his real name, but common enough that usage does not encroach upon his private personally identifying information), and he was talking about how when he locked his keys in his car, he was able to get into his car with his iPhone and the new RemoteLink app from OnStar. “All I need to do is to put in my code and it unlocks my car for me.”  It only cost $500 for three years.  That’s nice.

I can’t afford OnStar; so if I lock my keys in the car and I happen to have my trusty 2005 flip phone with me, I can flip it closed (if it was open,) and simply use the Brick app that comes standard. (Winding up… and here comes the pitch!)

Contracting the ailment

Just let it go.  When you realize that you are arguing with a nutcase and you are aware that the nutcase lacks the capacity to understand s/he is a nutcase because s/he is using the brain of a nutcase to determine whether s/he is a nutcase or not, you just have to let the argument die, else you risk becoming a nutcase, yourself. (That is how it spreads and how they will take over if you let them.)

Wednesday Thursday Friday (WTF)

With my son’s concerns about the planet and what we seem to be doing to it, he got me thinking about recycling more and wasting less.  So, when I read the little flyer included in my bank statement in back in March about saving paper by “going green” and getting my statement electronically, I agreed to allow the bank to text my monthly statement to me instead of mailing it. This month, after displaying the balance, it ended the message with “LOL.”
Are they marketing that they have Lots of Loans?

Thanks, Scarlett O… and just out of grasp

Have you ever had a bad day and went to bed thinking, ‘Tomorrow will be a better day…’ only to wake the next day to slip-n-slide in the kitchen on your roommate’s dog’s freshly-squeezed poop and while staring up at the ceiling supine on the linoleum floor thinking, ‘Tomorrow will be a better day…’?

“Wicked”

“Wicked” is a synonym for “very” for those of us Bostonians.

I learned this to be the case in my childhood when I asked my sister about her almost incessant use of the word –i.e., “‘X’ is wicked cool!” I then asked her if the Wicked Witch of the West was a title that meant she was the Very Witch of the West. She responded, “Dha…” which is another Bostonian colloquialism for ‘of course.’

I had no retort.

Beta waves, urination, and Q-tips

They have nothing to do with each other, maybe.

I was on YouTube yesterday looking at “sciencey” stuff and came across some beta brain wave videos. It’s basically subliminal sounds & rhythms played at low frequencies mixed with classical music or nature sounds intended to help with memory and to make you smarter.

I thought I’d use it memorize jokes that I wrote for last night’s performance.  So, for three hours I listened to sounds of flowing water (i.e., rain, waterfalls), and though I couldn’t remember a single joke that I wrote, while on stage I did have an almost-perpetual need to take a piss.

My sleep was terrible, too; I woke four times last night to evacuate my bladder.

I’m in the bathroom this morning –urinating– and I realize that I’m late for work; there isn’t enough time to do all that I normally do. So, I shave, brush my teeth, and wash my hair in the sink, which I haven’t done before (but maybe sink-shampooing was inspired by my new-found beta-wave-heightened intelligence). I get water in my right ear and I use a Q-tip to remove it. Though I’ve used Q-tips many times before, I haven’t used them where the tip was or became wet. [Stumble back in amazement]. The feeling is wonderful! I can’t stop rubbing my ear canal with the moistened Q-tip; it’s like that pre-orgasmic feeling that makes you want to live in that moment forever. I think my left leg was quivering.

Damn… I’d like to write some more, but I gutta go take a piss now.

Do I appear gay to you?

Expression of knowledge, or lack there of, has its impact

Is there something about my endomorphic physique or 1980’s sense of fashion that conveys “homosexual” to you fine readers?

Don’t get me wrong; I have zero problem with gay folks, but when I’m wanting to have sex with someone, I’m not personally interested in another guy’s hairy butt (see Andrew “Dice“ Clay).

A month ago, my roommate’s sister called me a faggot when I demanded her skinny-ass husband pay me back a small sum of money that he still owes me.

Though I initially took it as an unenlightened misanthrope’s insult for another of her miserable husband’s creditors who happened to be in her proximity, she followed up the comment with, “And you better keep your hands off my brother!” I now discern that she actually thinks I’m gay. It’s at this point, I’m wondering what is it about me that conveys this mental misconstruction to this professor of fallacy?

Is it that when she was last at my apartment visiting her brother, she noticed that my curtains match my duvet? Is it that I not only have a duvet, but that I know what duvet is? Is it that my curtains and duvet are tope with mauve accents and I know how to spell mauve? Or, that I know how to spell chartreuse? Because the typical American male does not only not know how to spell such colors – they don’t even know what those colors are.

Slagzilla has helped me come to realize that having certain knowledge burdens you with the misconceptions of others.
Being who I am, I chose to respond to her with palm-to-chest, “Honey, if you simply get your man to pay me what he owes me, that would be FABULOUS!” [Insert Z-snap.]

It’s not just the knowledge that you have, but the knowledge that you should have that you don’t have that leaves an impression on the people whom you meet.

Last week, I was doing some IT work at a law firm.  Somehow the conversation behind me turned to use of the word “uvula” – that little punching bag at the back of your throat.

A recent college graduate there didn’t know what that was. When called on his lack of knowledge by a co-worker, she chuckled, ‘It’s OK as long as you don’t confuse it with a vulva.’ He didn’t know what that was, either. And no, he’s not gay –which, if he were, it would make sense –having no sexually driven need to have learned the vaginal significance of the word “vulva” by the age of 16 as I had….

Being who I am, I chose to interject, “What school did you go to? I need to make sure not to send my kids there.”

He responded, “Your loss, I went to Cornell.” Well, la di fucking da for him. It’s interesting to know that you can be otherwise well-educated and still not know some basic information about human anatomy. That’s $150,000 plus room-and-board that may have been better-spent.