do you like nuts? (I wrote this whole thing just to justify that title, since the many meanings of the word nuts is hilarious)
One of the problems with being a human is we all have these fancy brains that can be useful, or just plain trouble depending on the circumstances. If you're trying to outwit an angry bear or duck, your brain is great. It gives you ideas like, "kick the bear in the nuts!" or "kick the duck in the nuts!" And with any luck, you get out of that potentially dangerous situation. Brain 1, nature 0, advantage ... brain. But this same useful tool can become a problem when mishandled with enough alcohol, nicotine, candy and television. In weakened states my brain has been a real troublemaker.
Like one night I was at a nightclub and I was bored. I'll refer to the place as The Purple Onion since that is what the giant sign above the door said. Ever since the movie Police Academy I was convinced any bar with a color in the name meant it was full of gay bikers who seem to only listen to the tango. This bar is always full of girls wearing hot-pants and tiny shirts (which I like) and the most unbelievably stupid guys. The girls are awesome because they try to get guys to look at them, then their boyfriends get all mad. You can cut the tension in that place with a waffle shirt. So I was bored and I sat down while my lame friends were dancing.
There was a big spinning ceiling fan over my head. As soon as I saw it my brain tricked me. It said "hey, see that fan, I bet if you folded up your empty cigarette pack and tossed it up there, the fan would hit it and shoot it across the room." So I said "isn't that a little sketchy in a club full of juiced up thugs?" Brain responded "hey, I'll handle the thinking thanks, just do it!" So up went the pack, and I got lucky cause the fan teed it up like Babe Ruth and sent it sailing at high speed into the back of some guys head. Mission accomplished. So my brain said "wow, even I didn't think it would work that well."
Brain 2, thugs 0. But I got lucky that time, usually I'm ten seconds away for any number of giant disasters of my own creation. I'm lucky to have made it this long, since I betray my brain with every opportunity, booze, tv, internet porn, you name it. I need a girlfriend, cause then I can exercise my brain by lying to her constantly and trying to lure her into the virtual luge(see site map).
Some people have a kooky mind which is nothing but trouble. My favorite kind of people are the marginally insane, they sit just on the edge of total psychosis. They can still work and function as normal individuals, but their little head is full of spiders and weird ideas. They stand behind you in line at the grocery store, buying milk, eggs, whatever. But unlike you, when they get home, they weigh the milk and put the eggs under a blacklight to see if they have dinosaurs in them.
I love these people. Crazy people are so fun. They have such neat ideas, things you could never come up with, like wondering if aliens are real, and if it was aliens who ate the rest of the leftover pizza in their fridge.
I was walking up the front steps to the door of a place I used to live with 4 hippies, good times, good times. As I walked up the steps a very nice balding man in a ski coat that must have been from the 1948 winter olympics approached me. He had a long wizzled beard that looked like it was something that attached itself to his face after a long time wandering the north pole. He handed me a newsletter, which I gratefully accepted assuming it was a church thing or something. When I took it I glanced at his eyes. I don't know if you ever notice this about people, I usually don't look people in the eye, it makes me nervous. I could tell that there was some real intelligence in him, just by his eyes, it was weird.
The newsletter was this thing called "Michael" and it was a leftist conspiracy newsletter of mind blowing detail. The cover headline reads "Yes to cash, No to biochip implant under the skin". Wow. The writer is worried that we are all going to be implanted with microchips to record our financial condition and abandon cash. The rest of this "newspaper" is nuttier than "Jiff" and chunkier than "Chunky". Paranoid fantasies about government plots in union with the world bank to control our minds. The intricacy of these delusions is a marvel in itself. What is so cool is that this guy is totally certain of the imminence of biochip implants, and he has to warn us before its too late.
That's so awesome. To dedicate so much time and energy into something completely insane. I love it! All I do to save the human race is complain about everyone, this guy has the strength to print a newspaper and get the word out. So what if he's totally off base and worried about probably the most retarded thing ever. Good for him at least for trying.
I do my share to rant and rave, obviously since you're reading it. Maybe I'm closer to this guy than I thought. Good. We all have our dreams of a perfect world, his is one without biochips, which is nice.
My perfect world would be a post apocalyptic wasteland where all men are sterile except me. I'm a sex deity with 2000 foot tall statues eclipsing the sun and casting shadows over villages. I roam the earth in a flying van that's actually a time machine, making beautiful love and breeding pet dinosaurs to train as housekeeping staff and killing machines.
Well that about covers it for this week. Next week, Naked animals roam our streets! and no one is doing anything about it!