Tuesday, July 12, 2011

These theeeemes go on when I... you get the picture

Today I remembered what I titled my last blog post, and I ended up listening to Heart for a while. Those ladies can rock the house down. That's for sure.
I've been thinking that maybe my blog should have a theme. Everyone else has a theme. Why can't I? The problem is that most blogs have good themes, like crafts or scrapbooking or book summaries. I am not good at any of these things. The extent of my craftitude involves hanging a poster on the wall, or drawing dorky cartoons of a flying orange on random scraps of paper. I just barely learned that macrame was some sort of decorative way of tying knots. I always thought it sounded like a French method of execution. (Oui Oui! He shall be macremed, at ze dawn!) The only loose themes I have going on here are that many commercials are really stupid, and I hate it when people run around and scream outside my house. One can only write about these things so often (Only twice, technically, although somehow I've made it into several dozen posts). Themes are what keep these blogs alive, and without one, my blog is withering away, like a daffodil in front of a flamethrower. Like a muscle, trapped in the confines of a plaster cast. Like a raccoon, squashed flat, on the side of the highway. Shucks, I always take it one metaphor too many. Anyway, if anyone can think of a good theme, something that I might be good at writing about, please let me know. I promise your suggestion will go unpunished.

By the way, those Swiffer commercials that have hijacked "What About Love," by Heart... well, I could go without seeing another one of those. Great song though.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Theeeeese dreams go on when I close my eye-e-e-e-es

Someone I never hope to become is an actor in one of those bladder control commercials. They are always walking around, being haunted by the bathroom. Boom! Distorted zoom-in of bathroom sign. Oh no! I might miss the game by getting stuck in the bathroom line! I'm playing golf, and all the shrubbery is way too revealing! Any number of nightmarish scenarios! Yep, I enjoy my bladder just the way it is.
Here are some people I would love to be:

1. Wizard. Does it get any better than this? I could cast spells, conjure up... spells. I would live on a mountain and change the weather, totally messing with the people in the town below. And best of all, wizards can fly. These are the things I dream about.
2. DJ. I like listening to music, but I don't like it when other people choose what song is playing. This way, everyone can enjoy my good taste in tune-age, even me. Plus I look cool jumping up and down with headphones on.
3. Street musician. Similar to numero dos, but I could rock out half a block with some crazy banjo/spoon action. Plus there is the added possibility that people would throw money at me, and that's always good.
4. Recluse. A few days ago I had a sweet dream where I built a cabin out in the woods and powered it with a water wheel. I grew a bunch of vegetables and hunted some creatures, and refrigerated it all in a secret stone compartment behind a waterfall. I had a totally self sustaining environment out there, and best of all, a way to power my laptop, so you guys could hear all the crazy stuff I would have thought up.
5. An expert. I don't care what I'm an expert in, I just want to be one. I want to be the guy that gets called when people in movies say, "Call in an expert."
6. Did I say wizard yet?

When I was a kid, I wanted to be either an ice cream man or a chemist. Normal people go from wanting to be an astronaut to wanting to be an investment banker. I went from chemist to mountain wizard. That should tell you something about me.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

I just saved you all .15 seconds a day for the rest of your lives!

Something that has caught my eye over the past decade is that many humans have a really hard time knowing when to use "your" and when to use "you're". But I have no beef with these people. No, what really gets me are those jerks who write "it's" when they mean "its". And don't get me started on "there", "their", and "they're". But we aren't talking about those poor souls today. I am here to solve the your/you're crisis today. It's soooo simple, you are going to be so mad you didn't think of it first. So mad, you'll probably go outside and punt a dictionary. So anyway, here is the solution:


Perfectly ambiguous. No apostrophe bias here. Plus it's shorter and easier to type. All three keys are located in a four key span on the top row. Yep, you just looked at your keyboard. Sorry, yer keyboard. If you have a good time saving typing hint, I would love to hear about it. Heck, it might even pop up here, if it's good enough. And I've already thought of "thar", so you can go ahead and keep that one to yerself.

*I decided to put the punctuation outside the quotation marks this time, just for a laugh.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Caveat Lector

Wow, it only took a few weeks to run out of stuff to write about this time.
I was reading some of my older posts from last year... and I discovered that they make no sense whatsoever. No sense. It's like I go from one thought to the next without even trying to bridge them together. I couldn't even understand half of it... and I wrote it. It's like an evil scientist gave a chimpanzee the ability to type, and then forced him to type out everything on a laptop. Maybe I'm the evil scientist, and you all were reading the ramblings of my chimp, Buggles. Maybe I'm Buggles. I'll never tell...

So yeah, sorry about that. I think sometimes I try to be too clever, and it totally backfires. I used to tell jokes to my family and friends, and they would either not laugh, or give a weak pity laugh, or spontaneously combust. The reason, I believe, was that the jokes were too funny. You know a joke is good when, right at the punchline, the victims ask you to define a few key words. How am I supposed to know that people don't use words like caveat or know exactly what a writ of habeas corpus is? I mean, come on. You can't count the number of great habeas corpus jokes. At least not on one hand. Latin words are always the funniest. Those ancient Romans were always doing crazy hilarious stuff. One day they were building miles of aqueduct, the next they were throwing people in an arena filled with lions. Ha-ha! Good one, ancient Romans. Making an aqueduct, those goofballs. What are they gonna do next? Make a horse-powered cheese grater?

What? There are no more Romans? Hey, buddy. Last time I checked there was a big ol' city over in Europe named Rome. So you tell me who lives there, ok buddy? It sure as heck ain't just Europeans.

Well, this post has pretty much run its course. Like the Tiber through the... Nah, it's done. Goodnight.

Friday, July 1, 2011


I was about to start writing about how people argue a lot when I remembered that I already wrote about that. Haha! Oh lack of subjects, ye almost got me again! I was going to start it out with this gem of a intro: "One thing I've noticed over the centuries is that people love to argue. Like the Crusades. That probably started with an argument. I don't know, ask a historian." I've got this on the mind because there are a LOT of reality shows on TV these days, and the only thing that makes these shows reality are the crazy arguments the peeps get involved in. Well, sorry. Enough of that.

Don't you hate it when you accidentally knock over your deodorant and it falls off the vanity, hits the floor, and the cap cracks in half? The cap never fits back on the right way, and the deodorant is always dried out the next time you use it. Putting on dry deodorant is the worst. It scrapes off all my precious armpit hair, and leaves chunks trapped up in there. Que Horrible!

Another thing I don't like? Stubbed toes. Hey, I just call 'em as I see 'em.