Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Update, Cretins!

I write this a little inebriated. Not much. Probably not safe enough to drive, so that 2 AM run on my road grader will have to wait until early, early, early Thursday, at the earliest. There are no words for how much I want to apologize to my friend the road grader, whom I have named Hezekiah.

My neighbor, in apology for having kept my seasons 2 & 3 of Lost for so long, brought me beer. We drank said beer, and then he left.

With my Season 4 of Lost.

You notice that I do not call him friend.

I feel slightly used.

Women, I apologize. Lost, Season 4 = Vagina.

Afterward, and during, there was a conversation, via e-mail, about gallbladders between I, Stupidus Maximus, and a friend, who shall remain nameless, in which we decided that gallbladders are pretty much God's folly, and that two hearts would be muchly preferable to two lungs. Seriously, two lungs? How about 2 hearts? What would you say to an auxiliary butthole?

Klingons had multiple hearts. Are you trying to tell me God loved Klingons more?

Maybe.

Probably a good thing that the whole Khitomer Massacre, wherein the Enterprice C came to the aid of the Klingons, took place. Because in all things theistic, I want to be on the side of the Klingons.

In fact, in most things, I want to be on the side of the Klingons.

Except bowling.

Klingons cannot bowl.

You realize, at this point, that it's merely energy being spent by my brain, right? There's nothing of real value, here. These are just words formed by random firings of my brain. I've had beer, and I've been awake roughly 20 hours again.

Why? Zombies.

Treat everybody as you would be treated. I just thought I'd throw that shit out there. You'd think you'd have this simple fucking idea down pat, by this point. Seriously. It's 2010, and we've been going over this shit since Hammurabi. Seriously, we even left out the parts where we cut off your hands and testicles. Can't you get this garbage straight? 2010 is the year we make contact, at least if Helen Mirren has anything to say about it.

(Titty is a funny word, and if terrorists burst into my hovel tonight screaming "Titty, Titty, Titty!" I'd have no choice but to join them. I know this is non-sequitur, but dammit, I feel that this is a point that has been largely neglected in these times of woe and want. Would you rather have universalized health care, or titty? Caveat: You can have both. One is not dependent upon the other).

I would like you to bask in my masterful use of the parenthetical statement.

Hello.

In the Tournament of Muppets, take Fozzy Bear. There's a lot of pent up anger, there. I know you'll be tempted to take Gonzo, but let me ask you this:: Can Gonzo take a ball shot? That's right. The previous question was of the utmost importance, so much so that it required two colons.

Two colons. Can you imagine?

Proctologists are dicks.

I want you to think about that one.

Think hard.

And Deep.

And then realize that you're reading the online nerd diary of a guy who danced for absolute joy, as if he'd cured world hunger and AIDS on his lunch hour, when he put on a clean pair of pants this morning, and found $1 (American).

Meh.

1. Gonzo
8. Sam the Eagle

4. Scooter
5. Janice

3. Fozzy Bear
6. Kermit the Frog

2. Animal
7. Waldorf

3 Comments:

Blogger leeann said...

Do not tell the Klingons they cannot bowl. It will only end in tears.
And not for them.

7:49 AM  
Blogger Tommy said...

Beating the puckey of the PBA with bat'leths does not a good bowling species make.

9:08 AM  
Blogger Lemon Stand said...

Too funny. Thank you for the chuckles this morning. (Oh... and Klingons can too bowl... just not very well...)

11:17 AM  

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