I was watching a candy bar commercial on TV and there was a website address.
I looked up the site, and it asked what country I’m in.
America.
And it showed me the candy bar commercial.
I reloaded the page, but this time, I told it I was in England.
Same graphics, but this time they listed different flavors.
Mint… Orange… Caramel…
“Why don’t we have those?” I said.
“Can’t you just buy caramel at the store for dipping?” said my roommate.
“They think we’re simple,” I grumbled. “Stupid. Ignorant.”
We sat in silence as the TV blared more nonsense.
Tag: commentary
Pro Bowl
Unlike the All-Star Game in baseball, the Pro Bowl in Football is a joke.
The players don’t want to play hard, because they might get injured or injure someone.
Some don’t even show up, or they fly out to Hawaii for the vacation, but they sick out for the game.
The commissioner got pissed off and demanded they put on a show worth watching.
So, the players clown it up and have some fun.
Defensive players try an offensive play here and there.
Players switch sides to play with old college buddies or former teammates.
But it’s still fucking boring.
Ball Game
I used to really enjoy watching basketball.
Michael Jordan was amazing, and the NBA’s marketing hype was in full swing.
When he took two years off, the Rockets picked up a pair of trophies. But if Jordan hadn’t have walked away, there’s no way he’d have let the Bulls lose to Hakeem and Clyde.
These days, I have no idea who the players are. But then, does it really matter?
Not giving a damn about the players or the teams means that I can just enjoy the game for the game and the spectacle.
And not buy any overpriced crap.
Adopt A Minefield
Someone told me that there was a charity called “Adopt-A-Minefield.”
I needed a tax write-off, so I sent them a check.
A few days later, I received an envelope from them that contained a receipt and brochures.
They detailed their global projects to eliminate landmines from current and former war zones so that farmers could farm fields and kids could play safely.
One day, they hoped to create a landmine-free world.
I dropped the brochure in horror.
Clear mine fields?
Ban landmines?
I logged into my website, landminesforsale.com, and checked the sales figures.
Good numbers.
I sighed in relief.
Lifetime listening
They say that a CD should provide a lifetime’s listening enjoyment if you handle it properly, but it turns out that even a scratch-free CD will degrade over time because the data layer was often made of cheap material. And even though some CDs had a Gold layer for the data layer, the laminate used for the CD still can degrade.
This is not a problem if you plan on dying young, like all of your rockstar heroes. Or if you just buy one hit wonders and crappy music that you never want to hear when you’re fifty or sixty.
Trust
Some days, when I get home and lay back on the sofa, it takes a while for Bruwyn the cat to join me and drape himself over my leg for a nap.
Other times, I’m barely settled in before I find my leg pinned by a furry purring sack.
Either way, I’m happy to let the cat nap on me.
Until I run out of iced tea. Or need to go to the bathroom.
I feel guilty for making him move, but over time, he comes back to flop over my leg sooner and sooner.
That trust feels even better.
The Old Men
Old Man Winter complains a lot about the bitter cold and his joints hurting, but that’s nothing compared to having to look at Old Man Spring’s ghastly bleached-white hairy shins.
And once you stumble across Old Man Summer laying out at the beach, well, you’ll wish you’d been born blind.
Old Man Fall tends to just stay in his rocking chair on the patio, drinking cheap beer and watching the leaves turn.
He’d be the most agreeable of the bunch if he didn’t sit there with his rifle, threatening to shoot people if they don’t get off of his lawn.
Never Go Back
For years, I went to a place called Cabo.
I loved the fish tacos and frozen margaritas there.
They opened up a few other locations, and the original location closed, so I’d get my fix Downtown.
Last year, they closed.
No more fish tacos and margaritas.
Then, while I was walking home from a cat show, I saw that the place had reopened as Pepper Jack’s.
I went inside and ordered their fish tacos.
They didn’t have those.
Instead, I had a special burrito.
It was good, but not good enough.
I won’t go back.
You can never go back.
Custody
Usually, a couple going through a divorce will fight bitterly over custody of the kids, and Fred and Mary were no different.
“I don’t want them!” yelled Mary. “You take them!”
“Hell no!” shouted Fred back. “I said abort them both times, but you insisted on keeping them!”
They kept this up for days. The lawyers tried to help, but the unhappy couple just got louder.
Then, the fighting abruptly stopped. Fred and Mary nodded at each other, and both walked out of the conference room.
And never returned.
The lawyers ended up raising the kids.
God help us all.
Atheists In Foxholes
Back in World War 2, US Army regulations clearly stated that there were to be no atheists in foxholes.
Atheists that would ordinarily be assigned to foxholes found themselves reassigned to trenches, bunkers, and pillboxes.
However, the Clinton Administration’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy allowed atheists to join their religious brothers-in-arms in the foxholes.
It also allowed them to engage in all the gay sex they wanted to in those foxholes, just as long as nobody asked them why they weren’t shouting OH GOD, YES while climaxing.
As for the atheist chaplains, there’s no explaining some shit the Army does.