First off, let me say that I have absolutely no memory whatsoever of posting that article on “urinal humor” last night. I’m not denying that I wrote it. I’m just saying that I must have been in some kind of delirium. My suspicion is that it has something to do with the bottle of cold medication I found in the alley the other night. At the time I thought, “What luck!” Now I’m having second thoughts.
Of course, it is possible that I didn’t write it at all. A few weeks ago, while drunk on cheap Italian wine, I went on a bit of a vandalism spree. By the time I was done, I think I’d written my blogger account name and password on the walls of about half-a-dozen poorly-ventilated bathrooms along with my rough Italian translation of the phrase, “Please help me.” I was hoping not to experience negative ramifications from that, but now I’m thinking that this recent, un-funny posting may be related.
my underwear is a red flag
Fuck. I put on my underwear backward again today. How could it be that I could go 34-and-a-half years without doing that even once and then do it twice in a three-month period? I know I’ll be trying to put gloves on my feet, tying belts around my neck and washing my face in the toilet in no time.
My mind is dissolving faster than Frosty the Snowman in a hot tub of moose piss.
As for the backward underwear thing, I struggled all day with what I should do about it. I kept trying to work out scenarios in which I could somehow turn them around without taking off my shoes and socks, but I just couldn’t.
I can’t now, for the life of me, understand why it was that I thought I’d have to take my socks off to get my underwear turned around. All I could think about though was being there in the bathroom stall with my bare feet pressed down on the golden brown, urine-stained tile.
the greatest love of all
I’ve just decided to buy a Whitney Houston album the next time I see one on sale. I want to have it in my car for when I’m going out with co-workers. It sucks that I didn’t have this idea until now. It’s too cold for me to drive around the parking lot with my windows down, playing Whitey Houston as I arrive in the morning or leave at night.
Yup, I’ve got to get them into my car to make it work. That shouldn’t be too hard though. People hate walking, even if it’s across the parking lot to the Wendy’s.
The secret is to play it subtly. You can’t over-play your hand with something like this. This is a winter-long campaign. It’ll start with a few well-placed comments at the water cooler.
“That girl on ‘American Idol’ may have been good, but she was no Whitney Houston.”
Maybe in a week or two, I can whistle the theme from “The Bodyguard” as I walk through the administrative assistants, toward the bathroom. They’re very observant and I know they’ll pick up on it.
Perhaps it will all culminate with my bringing in a framed photo of Whitney and her husband, Bobby Brown, for my desk. I can scrawl something on it that looks like a signature. I guarantee that within three months I can have these people believing that I’ve joined her fan club.
I’m not sure why I want people thinking this about me, but it gives me a great deal of pleasure.
my great way to say yes
Ask me a “yes or no” question that needs to be answered with an obvious “yes.”
Please, please, please.
Something like, “Hey, Mark, would you like to travel back in time with a satchel full of condoms for Rosie O’Donnell’s father?”
Great. Thanks.
Now, are you ready for my answer? Here it is…
“Does Sharon have to wipe Ozzy’s ass?”
It may not be the funniest thing I’ve ever written, but, given the popularity of their show, I can really see it taking the nation by storm. Remember to give me credit if you use it.
shitting steel
Speaking of wiping, I just had a little incident in the bathroom. Something came out of me that truly shocked me. Maybe “shocked” is a bit too extreme. It’s not, after all, like the time I gave ass-birth to something that looked like the Loch Ness Monster. This was weird though.
Something came out of me that was un-flushable. It was like a bridge built by the Army Corps of Engineers to connect the two sides of the toilet.
I had to ultimately, like Godzilla, reach down and smack it out of the way with a toilet paper-covered hand. (And, yes, I realize that makes it sound as though Godzilla knocks stuff down with a toilet paper-covered hand.)
I won’t go into any more detail. I just wanted to mention the fact that I pooped something that couldn’t bend.
the moon: are we there yet
A few days ago, the Miami Herald reported on the decision by NASA to invest thousands of dollars in the publication of a document aimed at discrediting those who would have us believe that the US never landed on the moon.
Here’s a quote from the article.
More than 33 years after the United States landed men on the moon, NASA is spending more than $15,000 to convince people that it really did happen and that the space agency didn’t make it all up.
Stubborn conspiracy theorists claim that NASA’s six Apollo-program moon landings were faked. After decades of belittling and ignoring them, NASA has decided to fight back. It hired James Oberg, a Houston-based former aerospace engineer and award-winning author of 10 books on space, to confront skeptics point by point. Many scientists already have done that on the Internet, but skeptics remain unconvinced.
First off, I can guarantee that they’re spending at least five times that amount. There’s no way they can hire an author and have a book, or even a booklet, designed, duplicated and distributed for less than that.
I think it’s funny that they would use an obvious lie when describing a project meant to quiet the suspicions out there that they are liars. That’s like screaming, “I am not a loudmouth!”
The article goes on to point out a few recent incidents that have forced the issue.
You know that Buzz Aldrin called NASA after this incident and said, “You’d better fucking do something about this.”
I personally think that we probably did land on the moon. I just think it’s too big a thing to have faked for this long. Given the state of the world in the mid-60’s, however, I wouldn’t be surprised if we considered faking it to get the advantage over the Soviets. After Sputnik, I’m sure the idea of faking manned space flight was discussed.
At any rate, that’s all I’ve got on the subject for now. If you would like to read the entire article, you can find it here.
also in the news
The New York Times reports the following on the case of the two suspects in the DC Sniper case.
Justice Department officials say Attorney General John Ashcroft, who is expected to make a decision this week on which jurisdiction will be allowed to move forward first, has indicated he favors officials in Virginia because of the state’s success in obtaining death penalty convictions and its frequency of executions.
I know that I’m coming off as really liberal today, what with all the talk of poop touching, and I apologize for that, but what the fuck ever happened to innocent until proven guilty? Pardon me, but choosing the locale of a trial based upon how fast they can get someone executed there seems a bit Iraqi to me. I know that these guys, if they did it, are scum. I’d even go so far as to say that the death penalty might be applicable, but let’s not forget that this is BEFORE the trial.
OK, I need to go now. I’ve been typing too much today. My fingers hurt. I promise that tomorrow there will be no talk of urine, poop, the death penalty, Rosie O’Donnell or any of the other terrible things I’ve mentioned here today.
As always, I love you.
