Dear English language,
Please decide: Grey or Gray.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
December 26th
I'm not entirely sure which is worse....December 26th or January 2nd. Both of these days suck. If I had a million dollars and I could use said million dollars to erase both of these days from the calendar, I might do it. I'd more likely just pay off my house and go to Mexico but I'd definitely at least look into the whole idea.
After thorough deliberation, I had decided that December 26th was actually the worst day of the year. I think that's because Christmas is the best day of the year. It's kind of the best thing Earth has going for it. If you live in some country that doesn't celebrate this holiday, you are missing out. You should buy a tree and hang some stockings and watch Frosty the Snowman on YouTube.
Christmas just makes me feel all nice inside.....so much so that I actually don't even understand the annual we're commercializing Christmas and it's a travesty debate. People get all hot and bothered over the fact the Home Depot has trees and Santa figurines out in August. I say bring them out in June. Let's make this thing a six month ordeal. You know everybody secretly feels that way....they're just not saying it. That's why the 26th is so awful. We have this beautiful build up and we're all buzzing around town for a few months drinking cider and listening to carols and wishing we lived in some up-state New York town that's got two feet of snow and a Trolley and a fat guy named Earl that owns a hardware store and gives advice to the locals about how to hang their Christmas lights and hands out those little peppermint candies no one eats to little kids and then it just goes away overnight....literally. We wake up on the morning after Christmas and it's like waking up from a really bad dream where the Broncos fire Mike Shanahan and everything is in total turmoil and oh no we're going to miss the playoffs for the next five years and then.......breathe.
Oh wait that happened.
But then I re-deliberated. I don't think that's a word....re-deliberate. I suppose you can re- anything if you want to. Sue me. January 2nd is the worst day of the year hands down. Now compared to the month of February it's not so bad. I would spend my million dollars getting rid of February. And Texas. But back to 1/2. It's supposed to be like a new beginning or something. It's the day everybody goes to the gym because they have to fulfill their New Years resolution to get healthy and stop eating processed cheese products and drinking so much beer. And they can't go on January 1st because they're eating processed cheese products and drinking so much beer. January 2nd is not a new beginning. It's the day after the new beginning. It's like the day after driving a new car home that you bought from a dude who lives 8 hours away and now you're just content to let it sit in the driveway while you sack out on the couch and try to convince yourself that those seats really are comfortable and my back doesn't hurt at all and this really was a good purchase and that guy was only getting rid of this car because he wanted a newer car I mean people get rid of cars all the time with 2600 miles on them right?
I'm just going to cast my vote right now that we go from Christmas to March. Unless the Broncos somehow make it to the Super Bowl in the coming years. Then I vote we go Christmas-Super Bowl Sunday-March.
After thorough deliberation, I had decided that December 26th was actually the worst day of the year. I think that's because Christmas is the best day of the year. It's kind of the best thing Earth has going for it. If you live in some country that doesn't celebrate this holiday, you are missing out. You should buy a tree and hang some stockings and watch Frosty the Snowman on YouTube.
Christmas just makes me feel all nice inside.....so much so that I actually don't even understand the annual we're commercializing Christmas and it's a travesty debate. People get all hot and bothered over the fact the Home Depot has trees and Santa figurines out in August. I say bring them out in June. Let's make this thing a six month ordeal. You know everybody secretly feels that way....they're just not saying it. That's why the 26th is so awful. We have this beautiful build up and we're all buzzing around town for a few months drinking cider and listening to carols and wishing we lived in some up-state New York town that's got two feet of snow and a Trolley and a fat guy named Earl that owns a hardware store and gives advice to the locals about how to hang their Christmas lights and hands out those little peppermint candies no one eats to little kids and then it just goes away overnight....literally. We wake up on the morning after Christmas and it's like waking up from a really bad dream where the Broncos fire Mike Shanahan and everything is in total turmoil and oh no we're going to miss the playoffs for the next five years and then.......breathe.
Oh wait that happened.
But then I re-deliberated. I don't think that's a word....re-deliberate. I suppose you can re- anything if you want to. Sue me. January 2nd is the worst day of the year hands down. Now compared to the month of February it's not so bad. I would spend my million dollars getting rid of February. And Texas. But back to 1/2. It's supposed to be like a new beginning or something. It's the day everybody goes to the gym because they have to fulfill their New Years resolution to get healthy and stop eating processed cheese products and drinking so much beer. And they can't go on January 1st because they're eating processed cheese products and drinking so much beer. January 2nd is not a new beginning. It's the day after the new beginning. It's like the day after driving a new car home that you bought from a dude who lives 8 hours away and now you're just content to let it sit in the driveway while you sack out on the couch and try to convince yourself that those seats really are comfortable and my back doesn't hurt at all and this really was a good purchase and that guy was only getting rid of this car because he wanted a newer car I mean people get rid of cars all the time with 2600 miles on them right?
I'm just going to cast my vote right now that we go from Christmas to March. Unless the Broncos somehow make it to the Super Bowl in the coming years. Then I vote we go Christmas-Super Bowl Sunday-March.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Pizza burns
I've been eating bad again. Well...that's not entirely accurate. I've never really stopped eating bad. I kind of do it a lot. I guess I should probably say something like, "I've resumed eating bad after taking a short three day sabbatical in which I consumed various creatures of the sea excluding shellfish (fat and cholesterol content), Odwalla Superfood, and multiple products containing soy."
I simply enjoy the taste of saturated trans fats. I'm not going to lie. I imagine they taste delicious all by themselves. In fact, if America hadn't gone health crazy like they have in the past few years, I bet McDonald's would be selling succulent little deep fried trans fat cubes to go along with your Big Mac and Diet Coke. I'd have bought an order probably. After all, I tried the McGriddle. It's the same thing. I'm making changes though. I'm gonna start eating salad or something. Soon.
So today I got up and had some cereal for breakfast and then a turkey sandwich for lunch. I also took some vitamins and a baby aspirin. Pass. Then I went out with my friend Brad and we smoked cigars and drank beer. Fail. I came home from the cigar shop and ate an entire frozen pizza all by myself. Fail. I ate a ginger snap covered in frosting. Fail. I had one piece of dark chocolate. Ten years ago that's a fail but I guess it's good for you now. Pass (only to make me feel better).
Ok, so here's where I'm upset with myself and the world. Pizza is a starving man's food. It needs to be quickly devoured upon arrival.....whether it came from Pizza Hut or your oven. Problem is, that's simply not possible. The roof of my mouth is proof. I'm like that rat who just can't learn the right way out of the maze no matter how many times I get zapped. I just want to tell myself, listen, as certain as the Raiders have had, are having, and will have a losing season next season, PIZZA WILL BURN YOUR MOUTH STUPID! Get prepared. Do something about it. We should start a foundation or something and get celebs to tax write off donate to us. Well maybe not so much but it was an ambitious thought. I think I'm going to just let my pizza hang out in the freezer for a spell until it calms it's evil self down and becomes edible without destroying my mouth in the process.
Seriously though, somebody needs to draw up some legislation against over hottified pizzas. Give it to the democrats. They'll busy themselves with this. We'll have a law next week and by the way your income tax just went up 10%. Have a nice day. Change is coming!!! Yippeee!!!
Profound thought of the day: Pizza hot. Hurts. Don't do it.
I'd probably write more but I took a 10mg Ambien and I'm starting to feel strange. Time for bed.
I simply enjoy the taste of saturated trans fats. I'm not going to lie. I imagine they taste delicious all by themselves. In fact, if America hadn't gone health crazy like they have in the past few years, I bet McDonald's would be selling succulent little deep fried trans fat cubes to go along with your Big Mac and Diet Coke. I'd have bought an order probably. After all, I tried the McGriddle. It's the same thing. I'm making changes though. I'm gonna start eating salad or something. Soon.
So today I got up and had some cereal for breakfast and then a turkey sandwich for lunch. I also took some vitamins and a baby aspirin. Pass. Then I went out with my friend Brad and we smoked cigars and drank beer. Fail. I came home from the cigar shop and ate an entire frozen pizza all by myself. Fail. I ate a ginger snap covered in frosting. Fail. I had one piece of dark chocolate. Ten years ago that's a fail but I guess it's good for you now. Pass (only to make me feel better).
Ok, so here's where I'm upset with myself and the world. Pizza is a starving man's food. It needs to be quickly devoured upon arrival.....whether it came from Pizza Hut or your oven. Problem is, that's simply not possible. The roof of my mouth is proof. I'm like that rat who just can't learn the right way out of the maze no matter how many times I get zapped. I just want to tell myself, listen, as certain as the Raiders have had, are having, and will have a losing season next season, PIZZA WILL BURN YOUR MOUTH STUPID! Get prepared. Do something about it. We should start a foundation or something and get celebs to tax write off donate to us. Well maybe not so much but it was an ambitious thought. I think I'm going to just let my pizza hang out in the freezer for a spell until it calms it's evil self down and becomes edible without destroying my mouth in the process.
Seriously though, somebody needs to draw up some legislation against over hottified pizzas. Give it to the democrats. They'll busy themselves with this. We'll have a law next week and by the way your income tax just went up 10%. Have a nice day. Change is coming!!! Yippeee!!!
Profound thought of the day: Pizza hot. Hurts. Don't do it.
I'd probably write more but I took a 10mg Ambien and I'm starting to feel strange. Time for bed.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
The Bigger Half
So I was watching this peanut butter commercial and this kid and his friend are splitting a PBJ. Kid 1 says to Kid 2, "I got the bigger half." I thought about that statement for a second and decided that Kid 1 is full of crap. If you have the bigger half, it's not a half anymore. It's like 13/24ths or something like that. Kid 1, you are stupid.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Water
I'm not really sure when the whole water boom started. All I know is that when I was a kid, we'd go to the Diamond Shamrock gas station and purchase either Jolt cola, which had twice the caffeine of Mountain Dew, some orange Gatorade, or the largest fountain drink we could wrap one hand around and still use the other to steer our bikes. It never occurred to us to BUY a water. I'm not even sure they sold water in gas stations except for Evian which tasted to us like shampoo and melted ice cubes. And even if they did sell water, we had only mom's Taco Bell change that we'd taken from the center console of her car and we weren't going to spend it on something we could get from the faucet.
I'm not entirely certain when exactly gas stations began devoting valuable cooler real estate to bottled water....or entire aisles in the grocery store for that matter. I just know that at some point everybody caught on and nobody seemed to question that we were in fact purchasing the very same liquid that flows through every house in America (excluding select rural towns in Mississippi and northern Pennsylvania). I thought it was dumb at first. Give me a choice to buy a coke or bottled water and I'll take the coke and when the coke quenches my thirst and inevitably makes me thirsty again twenty minutes later, I'll either buy another coke or I'll find a drinking fountain. Bottled water was never invited into this equation.
Problem is, I, like other sheep slowly developed a curiosity for this new creation. It was different than other waters. It was purified...triple filtered mountain spring water hauled out in fine oak casks on the backs of scantily clad Peruvian women and aged to perfection. Yours for $.99 a bottle. I fought the urge. I tried. But then Eve pulled 12 ounces of blue Aquanfina perfection off that forbidden tree and I partook. It was fantastic. It tasted like hope. It tasted like water.
Soon enough, we'd all take the plunge. Bottled water became as vital to our lives as toilet paper and ketchup. And there were all kinds of it. Dasani became the Pepsi to the Coca-cola that was Aquafina. You had to choose. You couldn't have both. Water polygamy is not accepted. I went with team Aquafina because everyone knew that Dasani was just tap water, bottled by some guy named Lester who had a green patch over his eye and drove a panel van with a dented front fender and a bungee cord holding the hood down. Plus, he was a Detroit Lions' fan and nobody is a Detroit Lions' fan.
But then I discovered distilled water and it occurred to me that something was completely awry in this new liquid economy. There was a conspiracy going on right under our noses. Walk down any of the three water aisles in any grocery store and try to find the distilled water. I know. It only comes in a gallon and it's on the bottom shelf....next to the store brand diet strawberry soda. Who drinks store brand diet strawberry soda? Who drinks distilled water? You should. We all should. Something is wrong with America. Were you the piano upon which Paul McCartney wrote "Yesterday?" Were you in the room when the Broncos made the trade for John Elway? Have you tasted distilled water? Some things almost transcend....first man on the moon, the man or woman who invented the skirt/high heels combo, the wheel. Almost. Distilled water....transcends. Honestly, if given the choice between a top shelf Margarita and a glass of distilled water, I would choose the water three out of ten times. Do you realize what kind of victory that is for those mavericks in the trenches making this nectar of the gods?
Do me a favor. Do yourself a favor. Grant yourself this opportunity to experience new life apart from the confines of ordinary pedestrian bottled water. Start a revolution. Go distilled.
I'm not entirely certain when exactly gas stations began devoting valuable cooler real estate to bottled water....or entire aisles in the grocery store for that matter. I just know that at some point everybody caught on and nobody seemed to question that we were in fact purchasing the very same liquid that flows through every house in America (excluding select rural towns in Mississippi and northern Pennsylvania). I thought it was dumb at first. Give me a choice to buy a coke or bottled water and I'll take the coke and when the coke quenches my thirst and inevitably makes me thirsty again twenty minutes later, I'll either buy another coke or I'll find a drinking fountain. Bottled water was never invited into this equation.
Problem is, I, like other sheep slowly developed a curiosity for this new creation. It was different than other waters. It was purified...triple filtered mountain spring water hauled out in fine oak casks on the backs of scantily clad Peruvian women and aged to perfection. Yours for $.99 a bottle. I fought the urge. I tried. But then Eve pulled 12 ounces of blue Aquanfina perfection off that forbidden tree and I partook. It was fantastic. It tasted like hope. It tasted like water.
Soon enough, we'd all take the plunge. Bottled water became as vital to our lives as toilet paper and ketchup. And there were all kinds of it. Dasani became the Pepsi to the Coca-cola that was Aquafina. You had to choose. You couldn't have both. Water polygamy is not accepted. I went with team Aquafina because everyone knew that Dasani was just tap water, bottled by some guy named Lester who had a green patch over his eye and drove a panel van with a dented front fender and a bungee cord holding the hood down. Plus, he was a Detroit Lions' fan and nobody is a Detroit Lions' fan.
But then I discovered distilled water and it occurred to me that something was completely awry in this new liquid economy. There was a conspiracy going on right under our noses. Walk down any of the three water aisles in any grocery store and try to find the distilled water. I know. It only comes in a gallon and it's on the bottom shelf....next to the store brand diet strawberry soda. Who drinks store brand diet strawberry soda? Who drinks distilled water? You should. We all should. Something is wrong with America. Were you the piano upon which Paul McCartney wrote "Yesterday?" Were you in the room when the Broncos made the trade for John Elway? Have you tasted distilled water? Some things almost transcend....first man on the moon, the man or woman who invented the skirt/high heels combo, the wheel. Almost. Distilled water....transcends. Honestly, if given the choice between a top shelf Margarita and a glass of distilled water, I would choose the water three out of ten times. Do you realize what kind of victory that is for those mavericks in the trenches making this nectar of the gods?
Do me a favor. Do yourself a favor. Grant yourself this opportunity to experience new life apart from the confines of ordinary pedestrian bottled water. Start a revolution. Go distilled.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
I voted.
Yeah that's right. I voted. Took me ten minutes on election day. It was easier than ordering a diet coke from an illegal immigrant at McDonald's. Don't worry though. I'm not writing this blog today to try an influence you to vote. Part of that is because I don't think anybody reads this anyway and the other part is because I think all those celebrity "you need to go vote and make your voice heard" ads are just dumb. Look, if you've decided to vote because Kanye West told you to while he was on TRL and you were crying in the audience cause you just touched his yellowish sweatsuit, then you should maybe just leave the country because you don't deserve to be an American. Harsh? I don't care. Vote because people died so you could. If you don't vote, shame on you. If you're not voting because you don't know who to vote for, shame on you for not knowing who to vote for.
This friend of mine emailed me this forward that she also emailed five million other people. It was one of those gimmicky celeb infused vote or die campaigns on YouTube. The basic message from every celebrity we worship was "don't vote." Don't vote if you don't care about change....yada yada blah blah yada yada. Let me translate this for you: Don't vote...if you are a republican. That's the thing about celebrities and anyone under thirty who's a vegetarian and likes art films....they are all democrats. Listen, on the "I want to be a celebrity" application form, you have to check the terms and conditions box at the end of page 2 agreeing to fore go any and all previous conservative viewpoints. You are now a celebrity. You are now concerned about the looming extinction of the rare field mouse in Alaska. You have taken the obligatory trip to your African country of choice on your Gulf stream G5 with your two stylists, your personal assistant, your chef and your camera crew of seven to film you playing street soccer with some starving kids. Feel good about yourself. You are culturally aware. You are a Democrat.
Like I said earlier, I also think it's funny how if you're under thirty, you are or are assumed to be voting for Obama. I don't think any of my friends are McCain people. If they are, they aren't saying. But the truth is, most of them are Obama people because their friends are Obama people. They don't really know why they are. They just hate Bush....because you know....he's bad and stuff. And we invaded Iraq for oil and he's personally responsible for Katrina and I have cilantro growing on my back. A lot of people under thirty are voting for Obama because they're sheep. I'm not saying he's a bad dude. He's not a Muslim and he's not the antichrist. I'm sure he's a good guy who wants to make America better. I just don't think he will. Period. He might make us all feel better in the short term but I'm not drinking the cool aid. I think he's Jimmy Carter.
Truth is, John McCain't going to win the election even if I want him to. The sheep have spoken.
This friend of mine emailed me this forward that she also emailed five million other people. It was one of those gimmicky celeb infused vote or die campaigns on YouTube. The basic message from every celebrity we worship was "don't vote." Don't vote if you don't care about change....yada yada blah blah yada yada. Let me translate this for you: Don't vote...if you are a republican. That's the thing about celebrities and anyone under thirty who's a vegetarian and likes art films....they are all democrats. Listen, on the "I want to be a celebrity" application form, you have to check the terms and conditions box at the end of page 2 agreeing to fore go any and all previous conservative viewpoints. You are now a celebrity. You are now concerned about the looming extinction of the rare field mouse in Alaska. You have taken the obligatory trip to your African country of choice on your Gulf stream G5 with your two stylists, your personal assistant, your chef and your camera crew of seven to film you playing street soccer with some starving kids. Feel good about yourself. You are culturally aware. You are a Democrat.
Like I said earlier, I also think it's funny how if you're under thirty, you are or are assumed to be voting for Obama. I don't think any of my friends are McCain people. If they are, they aren't saying. But the truth is, most of them are Obama people because their friends are Obama people. They don't really know why they are. They just hate Bush....because you know....he's bad and stuff. And we invaded Iraq for oil and he's personally responsible for Katrina and I have cilantro growing on my back. A lot of people under thirty are voting for Obama because they're sheep. I'm not saying he's a bad dude. He's not a Muslim and he's not the antichrist. I'm sure he's a good guy who wants to make America better. I just don't think he will. Period. He might make us all feel better in the short term but I'm not drinking the cool aid. I think he's Jimmy Carter.
Truth is, John McCain't going to win the election even if I want him to. The sheep have spoken.
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