Thursday, September 18, 2008

On Texting and Operating Heavy Machinery

Like most red-blooded Americans, I thoroughly enjoy text messaging. I do it everywhere. And I mean everywhere.

Texting really comes in handy when you're doing something that makes talking uncomfortable. For example, perhaps you're dropping a deuce and really need to update a significant other of your, "B there in 15" status. It's easier and quicker to punch out a text than to call and explain, amidst boisterous flatulence, that you'll be there as soon as possible.

Why? Because yesterday's Mexican was absolutely refusing to stop sloppily hopping the anal border.

Ahh, the invasions of alien bacterium. Delicious.

Point is, there are many times and places for texting, and very few where you absolutely should not. However, you should not perform any actions (other than those involuntary actions like the one mentioned above) while texting. Texting and driving just don't mix. And there's the recent LA train crash, where the conductor is suspected of texting just before the deadly collision that killed him and 24 others.

Hell, you shouldn't even try to text and walk at the same time. Recent studies out of London and The University of Texas have shown that more and more people are suffering serious injuries from slamming into inanimate objects while texting and walking, never mind operating trains, planes, or automobiles.

So please: Practice safe text. Do it from the shitter.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Another Day, Another Bailed Out Corporation

Sometime early this morning, I woke from a terrible nightmare. The treasury had been printing cash at an astounding rate, and the streets were literally lined in Benjamins.
At first, I thought this was some fantasy land, and half expected a whirling dervish of nude leprechauns to make their way down the road, all tee-hee's! and ha ha's!, before finally falling into some epically strange homosexual elfin orgy on that sea of green.
That is until I was met with a sharply dressed man: Three piece suit, pocket square, you know the type. He was swinging from a hastily tied noose strung from a streetlamp. Beyond pale, the man bore a similar shade to the currency lining the thoroughfare.
Then, I came across another. And another. From every high hanging place dangled yet another power player of the corporate world.
Had it really happened? Had the government bailed AIG, amplifying our national debt? Had they printed more cash, further bankrupting the dollar in the face of international currency?
Oh, they had, my dear readers. They had. We, the American taxpayers, are now the proud owners of yet another corporation.
Where does it all end? When does the government finally say: You know what? You fucked up. Deal with it.
Or, do they say: You know what? Privatized business can't be trusted to handle themselves anymore. We're taking you all over so this shit doesn't happen again.
Who knows. I don't.
Why can't I just dream of leprechauns with homosexual proclivities? Life would be so much easier.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Common Sense: Common?

There's an old saying out there that goes a little something like this: "Common sense isn't common."

And after 29 years running around this planet, I know this to be absolutely true. How else does one explain the popularity of Sarah Palin?

This blog is dedicated to all the dipshits I run into that could really use a big fat meat injection of common sense. Since I seem to run into one of these winners daily, this blog may have quite a long, pissed off life. That's fine by me.

Well, that's enough for this evening. Good night, ladies and gentlemen.