It came to my attention after playing Solitaire and finally winning that, if at all possible, I would like to live my life the way I play the game. You may be wondering the specifics of this but fret not my precious little duckling, I will lead you towards the answer.
When playing Solitaire I frequently lose. Quickly. Painfully. Completely. But the beautiful thing about the game (at least if it's played on a computer, and let's face it, unless you've got an unconquerable fear of electronics or maybe the feel of a deck of cards just turns you on, you're probably playing on a computer) is that at any time you can click "Deal" and start over. Now I wouldn't say my life needs this particular magical ability. Not at all. However who wouldn't want to be able to start over a day, a moment, week, or even year at their desire.
I realize that I'll never have a prestodigimatic moment where I get to click the mighty "Deal" button and have another shot. Despite this realization I think I'd like to have a day where everyone humors me. I think once a year everyone should be allowed a "Deal Day". On this most wonderful and splendid day you be given two "deals". Upon uttering one of your prized "deals" the people around you are banned from giving you grief about what you just said or did. Now you are thinking "Heh heh I'll just kill someone and say 'deal'" Obviously you're an idiot, and you thinking about tarnishing such a beautiful day is reprehensible. Honestly I'm ashamed of you. However though if "Deal Day" existed you could use one to make me rescind those statements.
Obviously there would be parameters to the powers of a "deal". Like say you couldn't punch a guy in the face, or seduce somebody's significant other and expect it to be all sunshine and blue skies. That's an abuse of your power, and nobody likes an abuser. I'm talking about where maybe you're on a date and you call her the wrong name, or maybe you're giving a speech and you mess up astronomically. Small things like that, that can just ruin a day or a relationship, instantly gone. The possibilities for the use of your "deal" are broad if you use your imagination.
I'm not saying start a petition to make this a holiday, as it would never work in the real world. I'm saying the next time someone says something stupid, your boyfriend/girlfriend forgets to call, or your mom packs you "Nacho Cheese" Doritos in your lunch bag instead of "Cool Ranch" just give them a "deal".
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Why Dane Cook and I Could Never be Friends
Dane Cook and I could NEVER be friends. It just couldn't happen. For multiple reasons really. One being I can't do that wierd little "shocker" rip off finger thing he does. For some strange reason I feel that he wouldn't be my friend because of that. Thankfully I'd never want to be anything more than the guy who stuck out his leg to trip him as he walked by me on a subway (or some other form of transportation. You can choose the one you like the best).
Also I could never be friends with someone who has greatly increased the number of douche bags in existence. I mean WHO KNOWS how many d-bags and assholes this guys has produced? When he started out was he going for the role of every fraternity's mascot? Did he engineer his "comedy" (I use that word loosely when referring to him) so that it could bring out the inner, dormant douche bag in everyone?
And yes I am susceptible to it as well. Recently in one of my classes my professor decided that Dane cook would be an excellent teaching tool. I had to watch and take notes on his performance for academic purposes. How she thought learning from someone that has the brain capacity of a deceased sea urchin was possible is beyond me but I don't trouble myself with such matters. I am not a professor, therefore I don't know all the teaching tricks.
As I sat there in my movie theater style seat scribbling out notes in barely legible handwriting watching his performance, I felt myself becoming angry. Besides my being submitted to Dane's on stage hijinx I couldn't figure out the cause for my anger. Then it hit me. That was the only reason I was angry. I could feel the cogs in the douche-machine turning and I knew the transmogrification was beginning. Suddenly I felt like taking my shirt off, getting a tribal arm band tattoo and wearing a sports cap backwards. Before it could get any worse my professor put an end to the video and started up lecture. I was saved. I still have 'Nam-style flash backs of my near douche experience.
Another reason Dane and I could never be friends is his massive amounts of theft. How he gets away with stealing material from other prominent comedians like Daniel Tosh or Luis CK is beyond me. Hell I think he could do it and admit he was taking the jokes and it would be fine. I have no problem with people that quote movies or comedians and then give them credit afterwards. That's fine and can actually be funnier than the actual movie/comedian itself/himself/herself but he doesn't. I refuse to associate with people that take credit for other people's work and Dane seems to make a living out of it.
Everyday (okay that's an exaggeration) I wake up and hope that I meet Dane Cook. I want to meet him and make him think I'm the coolest guy ever. I want him to want to be my son. And I want to refuse him that opportunity. This is the final reason (and maybe the most important) why he and I could just never be friends. Does that make me a douche? Yes, but technically that's still kosher in my book because he's still the cause of my douchedom.
Sorry Dane, we're just not meant to be (I hate you).
Also I could never be friends with someone who has greatly increased the number of douche bags in existence. I mean WHO KNOWS how many d-bags and assholes this guys has produced? When he started out was he going for the role of every fraternity's mascot? Did he engineer his "comedy" (I use that word loosely when referring to him) so that it could bring out the inner, dormant douche bag in everyone?
And yes I am susceptible to it as well. Recently in one of my classes my professor decided that Dane cook would be an excellent teaching tool. I had to watch and take notes on his performance for academic purposes. How she thought learning from someone that has the brain capacity of a deceased sea urchin was possible is beyond me but I don't trouble myself with such matters. I am not a professor, therefore I don't know all the teaching tricks.
As I sat there in my movie theater style seat scribbling out notes in barely legible handwriting watching his performance, I felt myself becoming angry. Besides my being submitted to Dane's on stage hijinx I couldn't figure out the cause for my anger. Then it hit me. That was the only reason I was angry. I could feel the cogs in the douche-machine turning and I knew the transmogrification was beginning. Suddenly I felt like taking my shirt off, getting a tribal arm band tattoo and wearing a sports cap backwards. Before it could get any worse my professor put an end to the video and started up lecture. I was saved. I still have 'Nam-style flash backs of my near douche experience.
Another reason Dane and I could never be friends is his massive amounts of theft. How he gets away with stealing material from other prominent comedians like Daniel Tosh or Luis CK is beyond me. Hell I think he could do it and admit he was taking the jokes and it would be fine. I have no problem with people that quote movies or comedians and then give them credit afterwards. That's fine and can actually be funnier than the actual movie/comedian itself/himself/herself but he doesn't. I refuse to associate with people that take credit for other people's work and Dane seems to make a living out of it.
Everyday (okay that's an exaggeration) I wake up and hope that I meet Dane Cook. I want to meet him and make him think I'm the coolest guy ever. I want him to want to be my son. And I want to refuse him that opportunity. This is the final reason (and maybe the most important) why he and I could just never be friends. Does that make me a douche? Yes, but technically that's still kosher in my book because he's still the cause of my douchedom.
Sorry Dane, we're just not meant to be (I hate you).
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Yes, I am Avoiding You
After going to my current school for not even a full year I have learned one very important thing. That is I've learned the art of avoidance.Back in high school, people weren't all that much of a problem. At least not too much of one. You could go home at the end of the day and not be pestered by anyone with whom you had spent those eight blistering hours of boredom. But even though I could do those things, I rarely needed to as my desire to avoid people was pretty low.
College is a whole different ballgame. I can say that with as much certainty as I say that I am male, lanky, and an avid fan of comic books. What caught me off guard about college was the sheer persistence of people. It used to be that if I didn't want to consort with a particular person all I had to do was take a different route in the halls. I wouldn't be hunted down, I wouldn't be repeatedly text messaged, and I most definitely would not run into said person outside of my living quarters. Like I said, whole different ballgame. It took me longer than I would have liked to adapt to these more persistent forces but you live and learn, and I have lived, and I definitely have learned.
The first few weeks of the semester are the weeks you generally make many shanty friends. I call them as such because much like a shanty they don't hold up to much. A mildly forceful wind blows or a light rain falls and you've lost a wall and your roof is leaking. Point being, that these friendships do not last long, which is contrary to what most participants in these relationships think. Common among shanty friends are phrases such as "I can't wait 'til junior year when we can (drink, go on double dates, live off campus, and etcetera etcetera)." They do not realize that most likely they will probably stop hanging out within two weeks and the so called "friendship" will be reduced to awkward nods when passing. I am telling you this because even though I'm aware of the weak-kneed endurance shanty friendships have, I still recognize their importance. A.K.A. I had them. I had several actually.
Though I knew plenty about the characteristics of shanty friends, there were still some hidden factors that I was unaware of. One of these being what's to be done if one shanty friend is ready to move on and the other isn't (guess which one I was). Unluckily for me this very thing happened and I had to rack my brain for solutions to this conundrum. All I came up with seemed extremely slimy at the time so I decided this was a grin and bear it situation. I mean college is only four years right? Wrong. Well, no it is only four years, the "wrong" was to the "grin and bear it" thing.
What was I to do? Well I had settled on doing nothing so that's what I did, until I realized I didn't have to put up with it. I came to the conclusion that I didn't have to muscle through hangout after mind melting hangout just to not hurt someone's feelings. That I could just slowly slip away, gradually over time becoming nothing more than a memory. While this sounds cool AND easy it took me a few tries to get the process down.
First try I had some small success. I went several days without having to see the person in question and thought I was well on my way to never having to deal with him/her again. Wrong. I soon learned that a cardinal rule in avoidance is, well, avoidance. This means not responding to text messages, phone calls, facebook messages, e-mails, and God knows what else. I was naive and thought that I could get away with a few texts here, maybe a wall post there. Wrong again.
This resulted in my being pulled back into the shanty friendship for another few weeks. It was awful.
The next time I tried I was firm in my resolve not to trip into the same pitfalls I had last attempt, but this was only a second effort. I went an entire blissful week and a half of without encountering him/her before discovering that like in most cases, the third time was going to have to be the charm.
Upon my third and last try I finally developed enough determination to resist all forms of contact. Success was obtained. If that person was a limb, he/she was most definitely amputated.
I write this because if this particular shanty friend hadn't been so overly persistent I wouldn't have learned one of the most important skills of my life, and I appreciate that. But, I guess the moral of this is, if you ever run into any lack of communication with me, or you see me sprint away when you come on the horizon, Yes, I am avoiding you.
College is a whole different ballgame. I can say that with as much certainty as I say that I am male, lanky, and an avid fan of comic books. What caught me off guard about college was the sheer persistence of people. It used to be that if I didn't want to consort with a particular person all I had to do was take a different route in the halls. I wouldn't be hunted down, I wouldn't be repeatedly text messaged, and I most definitely would not run into said person outside of my living quarters. Like I said, whole different ballgame. It took me longer than I would have liked to adapt to these more persistent forces but you live and learn, and I have lived, and I definitely have learned.
The first few weeks of the semester are the weeks you generally make many shanty friends. I call them as such because much like a shanty they don't hold up to much. A mildly forceful wind blows or a light rain falls and you've lost a wall and your roof is leaking. Point being, that these friendships do not last long, which is contrary to what most participants in these relationships think. Common among shanty friends are phrases such as "I can't wait 'til junior year when we can (drink, go on double dates, live off campus, and etcetera etcetera)." They do not realize that most likely they will probably stop hanging out within two weeks and the so called "friendship" will be reduced to awkward nods when passing. I am telling you this because even though I'm aware of the weak-kneed endurance shanty friendships have, I still recognize their importance. A.K.A. I had them. I had several actually.
Though I knew plenty about the characteristics of shanty friends, there were still some hidden factors that I was unaware of. One of these being what's to be done if one shanty friend is ready to move on and the other isn't (guess which one I was). Unluckily for me this very thing happened and I had to rack my brain for solutions to this conundrum. All I came up with seemed extremely slimy at the time so I decided this was a grin and bear it situation. I mean college is only four years right? Wrong. Well, no it is only four years, the "wrong" was to the "grin and bear it" thing.
What was I to do? Well I had settled on doing nothing so that's what I did, until I realized I didn't have to put up with it. I came to the conclusion that I didn't have to muscle through hangout after mind melting hangout just to not hurt someone's feelings. That I could just slowly slip away, gradually over time becoming nothing more than a memory. While this sounds cool AND easy it took me a few tries to get the process down.
First try I had some small success. I went several days without having to see the person in question and thought I was well on my way to never having to deal with him/her again. Wrong. I soon learned that a cardinal rule in avoidance is, well, avoidance. This means not responding to text messages, phone calls, facebook messages, e-mails, and God knows what else. I was naive and thought that I could get away with a few texts here, maybe a wall post there. Wrong again.
This resulted in my being pulled back into the shanty friendship for another few weeks. It was awful.
The next time I tried I was firm in my resolve not to trip into the same pitfalls I had last attempt, but this was only a second effort. I went an entire blissful week and a half of without encountering him/her before discovering that like in most cases, the third time was going to have to be the charm.
Upon my third and last try I finally developed enough determination to resist all forms of contact. Success was obtained. If that person was a limb, he/she was most definitely amputated.
I write this because if this particular shanty friend hadn't been so overly persistent I wouldn't have learned one of the most important skills of my life, and I appreciate that. But, I guess the moral of this is, if you ever run into any lack of communication with me, or you see me sprint away when you come on the horizon, Yes, I am avoiding you.
Parents and Children (Don't Take This Too Seriously)
It occurred to me today why parents (or should) put so much time and effort into their children, and I wonder why I never thought of this before.
When creating a child, the parents give parts of themselves (literally) to make them. In a sense you are your parent, and your parents are your grandparents, and so on and so forth. Not exactly of course but they gave part of themselves (not a rib mind you) to make you.
So going from that perspective it makes sense to me why if I had children I would pay attention to them and make sure they do well. If I built a car I'd want it to run perfectly. Why should a kid be any different? As a parent you put something out in the world that represents you in every possible way. You build a shitty house and people live in it and hate it, you're going to look bad. You have a kid and he's out there spray painting cats, assaulting girls, and flunking school you're sure as shit going to look bad.
So when you're dad is red in the face and spitting 'cause you got fired at your job at Target for stealing, it's not just because he loves you (though he may not). It's because you made him look like an idiot for not raising you right. Way to go asshole.
When creating a child, the parents give parts of themselves (literally) to make them. In a sense you are your parent, and your parents are your grandparents, and so on and so forth. Not exactly of course but they gave part of themselves (not a rib mind you) to make you.
So going from that perspective it makes sense to me why if I had children I would pay attention to them and make sure they do well. If I built a car I'd want it to run perfectly. Why should a kid be any different? As a parent you put something out in the world that represents you in every possible way. You build a shitty house and people live in it and hate it, you're going to look bad. You have a kid and he's out there spray painting cats, assaulting girls, and flunking school you're sure as shit going to look bad.
So when you're dad is red in the face and spitting 'cause you got fired at your job at Target for stealing, it's not just because he loves you (though he may not). It's because you made him look like an idiot for not raising you right. Way to go asshole.
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