Caught in the Rain

Got caught in the rain today.  It was fun, but my entire shirt got soaked except the area right under the armpit.  It was basically the opposite of a job interview. 

I used to be a private detective

The work was alright, but the office secret santa was pretty intense.

Fraidy Dog

My dog is not a brave dog. There is one thing in particular, which she is particularly not brave about.  This is a thing that scares her to her core, and she is never prepared for it.  Take an average day - my dog’s just chilling doing normal dog stuff, thinking dog stuff.

She is totally relaxed.  Totally carefree until you go near the cabinet where our family contains our board games.  The second she spots someone near there she freezes and stares, with every nerve on edge. 

 

She knows exactly what is in that cupboard, knows all too well of the horror it contains.  And when that door is open she is tense with fear. She knows that what game you choose can change her life.   As you pull out a game her body begins to shake, and her fight-or-flight-but-realistically-always-flight response begins to kick in.

 

When she sees the game she retreats in terror.  Her tail tucked between her unsteady legs, she finds a couch to hide under, and will stay there shaking for hours.  What game has caused this terror?  Why only the most frightening game of all time.

 

To fully understand how much my dog fears Jenga, you have to imagine yourself as a dog, and there’s a giant thunderstorm on national balloon popping day, and you got to take a bath.  And the people giving you the bath are the vet who took away your ability to reproduce and the vacuum who surely has committed similar atrocities.   That horrific scenario would only provide about a tenth of the fear my dog feels for Jenga.  And no one knows why Jenga scares her so.  And interestingly, no other board game has any effect on her whatsoever.  

 

Now trying to understand this has been difficult to me.  Why would Jenga scare my dog?  The first thought I had is that maybe the noise of it falling scares her or maybe it fell on her once.  But the game is fairly quiet.  And considering being constantly kicked hasn’t stopped her from continually running under people’s feet, it’s hard to believe a 2 ounce Jenga piece would be very damaging.  My next thought was that maybe her prior owners had somehow mentally scarred her with Jenga when she was a puppy so badly, that her fear would stick with her forever.  But it’s tough to imagine just how creative and cruel the previous owners would have to be to cause such Jenga related terror, and since they seemed like nice people, I dismissed that theory too.

 

 My next theory was that she is dumb.  She is a dog and she believes that Jenga is dangerous.  She has no logical basis for thinking this, and all the evidence to the contrary won’t change her mind because she is dumb.  

 

I held this theory for quite a while, but eventually television would show me that I was wrong.  You see, animals are naturally in tune with the paranormal according to late night Animal Planet shows and science fiction movies.   So it turns out that my dog had felt something about the Jenga, and was trying to warn us.  

 So I did a little research and it turns out the Jenga pieces come from Alder trees, which were a favored tree of the Druids.  The druid's believed the Alder tree possessed magical powers and would grow very upset if you cut them down for board games.  Rumor has it that some of the trees were cursed, so that in cutting them down, death would follow all who touched the wood.  A hidden slow death, that only a dog could see coming. 

The Next Big Thing

My latest million dollar is hand soap, for men!  Every other hygienic product out there is separated by gender.  There are separate shampoos, deodorants, body wash's, tampons, why not hand soap?  All the current hand soaps have smells like "lavender", "cucumber melon", or "estrogen berry".  We need hand soap that caters to men, and our manly insecurities in scent.  That's why I'm rolling out man soap.  We will follow the tradition in male hygiene products of making up scents that aren't really scents.  Man soap smells will arise by randomly combining biomes with weather words.
Arctic Storm
Ocean Wind
Desert Lightning
Deciduous Forest Cold Front
Are just some of the hand soap scents we will be rolling out.

Plus if you have man soap in your bathroom than women will HAVE to believe you wash your hands after you piss. 

Gatherings

Some people call them "parties" or "hang outs" but I prefer the term, "Live Action Social Networking"

It happened to me like five times today

That scary moment when you go to open a door, but at the same time someone else is opening the door from the other side - and you freak out because apparently other people use doors too.

Saint's Row 2: A Video Game - Part 1

Two doctors were standing over my bandaged body in a prison hospital. 
"He's been in this coma for 4 years," said the doctor with goatee, "But I've managed to restore him back to health."
"Wow," said the doctor who also had  a goatee, "wasn't he some sort of famous gangster that died in some sort of crazy accident."
"Yes," said Doctor Goatee the first, "He over-thugged.  Gang tattoos, rap music, drug deals, bandanas- eventually his body couldn't take it any more and he exploded from being too bad-ass.  And yes, he has committed horrible crimes, but I have taken it upon myself to heal him.  Surely we can turn him into a productive member of society."
"It looks like he's restoring consciousness," said Doctor  Duece, "Wow, four years of being out...How long do you figure it will be before he has full mental and physical functions?"
"Probably a minute, maybe a minute and a half," said Doctor Goatee, "Why don't we unravel the bandages and then leave for no reason?"
The doctors began to slowly unravel my bandages in what had to be a Twilight Zone homage.  I couldn't even tell if I was a man or a woman!
ARE YOU A MAN OR A WOMAN?  asked the game.
MAN, I replied
WHAT DO YOU LOOK LIKE?  asked the game.
I'M INCREDIBLY RIPPED AND HAVE AN ENGLISH ACCENT, said I.
OF COURSE YOU ARE said the game.

The doctors eventually unwrapped the bandages, they had wound around my face for no other reason then the dramatic reveal.  I was pleased to note the prison hospital had continued to dye my hair bright green during my years in the coma.  And the coma stylist was top notch!  I flexed my muscles and found I was indeed incredibly ripped.  Atrophy can bite my well toned ass.

"Hey, I'm Carlos," said Carlos on the bed next to me, "I got shanked just so I could come talk to you."
"What if they put you in a different room?" I asked.
"They did," he answered, "four times."  He lifted his shirt to reveal 5 shank wounds. "Listen you've been in a coma for 4 years after over-thugging.  Without your leadership, the Saints gang has fallen apart."
"Wow, 4 years."  I could hardly believe it, I had so many questions, what's life like now?  Is purple still considered to be the most thuggish color?  Do people still leave their keys in the ignition at all times?  The thought of losing four years of my life was so dizzying and overwhelming, I decided never to mention it again for the rest of the video game.
"I'm going to break you out of prison, I have a plan," said Carlos.
"What's the plan," I asked.
"The plan is for you to break out of prison, and for me to follow you.  And also you have to protect me," answered Carlos.
"That's a sucky plan," I replied, "will you at least help me fight the guards?"
"Very little," said Carlos, "But you do have to restart the mission if I die."
"I hate you Carlos," I said. "Also are you sure you can escape after being a shanked an hour ago?  And how'd you know I would revive today?"
"No time for plot holes," hissed Carlos, "Doctor Goatee is here."
Doctor Goatee walked in the room.  Here was the man who had taken me from the brink of death to completely recovery in only 4 years.
MISSION 1: KILL THE DOCTOR! flashed the screen. 
"You bastard!" I screamed at the doctor through teeth clenched in rage, "You should have cured me in three!"  I jumped out of the bed suprised to find that there were no medical instruments attached to me. Deftly I punched the air near the doctor.  Then I backed up a bit and punched the wall some before looking up at the ceiling and tried to punch it.  The doctor made some notes about this.  Finally I punched him right in the face.  I saw that Carlos had decided to get in a fighting stance, then cease moving completely.  Oh Carlos.  The doctor was mad, but didn't seem surprise.  He punched me right back, so I punched him again. This continued for some time.  All the while Carlos remained ready in his fighting stance.  Suddenly the doctor died.  CHECKPOINT REACHED was his epitaph.  Oh god, I had murdered a video game character.  Suddenly I was overwhelmed with grief.  He was totally innocent, and what about his video game wife, and their video game children?  What about the other sick video game people he was healing?  Carlos came up to comfort me "This may be the first time you've woken up from a four year coma to start killing people, would you like to play the tutorial?"

The Hidden "N"

Dear Sir,

I have recently received the View newsletter for the month of October (Or as I like to call it, "Rocktober"!).  As I skimmed through it a certain contest caught my eye.
"Find the hidden Nebraska 'N' for reward points," I mused aloud, "Sounds interesting!"  Then I laughed a deep hearty laugh.  You see my good sir, they call me 'the finder'.  I look at pictures, and then I find things.  "Where's waldo?" cry the commoners.  "There he is!" I announce.  Not to brag, but I once beat  Where's Waldo: Beach Edition, in less then 2 hours.  Hell, I beat Where's Waldo: Kenya Edition in like 20 minutes.

It was with great confidence that I undertook your challenge.  Four pages?  Pshaw!  That was the first time I made the pshaw noise.  It felt good.  I resolved to do it more often.  I was condescending to a challenge that wasn't directed at me in particular and it felt good.  Damn good.   As any good finder knows, the first thing you do is survey the general idea of the search area.  What's the theme?  Are there any noticeable oddities?  Is the font spooky?  Yes, yes, and yes.  It was a dark and spooky newsletter, sending shivers down my spine and some other places.  I was afraid, but not scared.  After all, hadn't I beat Where's Waldo: Saw III Edition?  Yes I had.  I manned up and powered through the fear.

I saw lots of 'N's.  There was even one in "October Newsletter"  (Or as I like to call it , "Rocktober Newsletter"!).  I quickly trained my eyes to lock on to the letter in question like a magnet on like a metal statue.  Or maybe a refrigerator or a robot.  Let's progress from that analogy.  Even now my eyes are locking onto the "N"s I type.  They are still suspicious of these "N"s, no of all "N"s.  Like how my grandpa still doesn't like Asians.  Sadly, none of the "N"s I found were the Nebraska "N". 

On day three of my search my roommates began to show concern.  "You need to eat," they told me.  "You need to sleep," they insisted.  "You smell horrible, and you're eyes are all yellow," they said.  Fools.  The trouble with having a passion is that it is so frequently misunderstood as madness.  But I would show them.  My triumph was yet to come.  My hair and fingernails grew long.  I lost weight.  My boss called and fired me for continually missing work.  My roommates gave up on me. My girlfriend dumped me for unrelated reasons, it was more of a mutual thing really.  We had different priorities. 

But I knew I had to keep searching.  After all, there were only so many days in October (Or as I like to call it, "Rocktober"!).  Besides, I was accustom to long searches.  It had taken me many moons to beat Where's Waldo: Plastic Surgery Edition. But now I am among the few who have beat that.  When you search for something this long, you begin to wonder about why you are searching for it.  Why indeed.  Why.   Indeed.  Not only that but also why the University of Nebraska logo?  Why indeed?  See, here's the thing.  Many view residents attend other schools.  Some don't go to school at all.  This logo as the subject  of my search, my destiny (Or as I like to call it, "Rocktober"!) seems to have been chosen on purpose to create traction between two groups of people.  The university students and the non university students.  You're little Find-The-N game was in all actuality a diabolical plot to create hatred between two groups of people.  Two groups of people who should never hate each other.

"Oh God!"  My mournful cry came out with the awkwardness that is applied when you haven't spoken in weeks.   A tear ran down my cheeks and navigated the forest of my stubble.  These were dark times.  I spent a week ruminating on the natural human instinct to hate.  But then I realized something.  What if you WEREN'T trying to create hurtful divide between your residents?   What if you only chose the symbol satirically?  Well then you would hide they controversial symbol somewhere stinky and foul to represent the negative implications of a segregated apartment complex.  Of course!  It was all so simple. I should have paid more attention to Where's Waldo: Satirical Allegory Edition. 

Confidently I flipped the page like a mermaid flips her sun-kissed hair.  Sure enough, there was the Nebraska "N", right in the zombie's armpit.  It was a time for celebration.  It was a time for champagne.  It was a time to party.  And that's why I call it Rocktober.  Additionally, that's why  they call me the finder. 

Yours Forever,

The Finder.



Explanation:
 My apartment complex has started a reward program in which residents can earn points through activities.  The resident with the most points at the end of each month wins a $50 gift card and "pride".  This news letter had an opportunity to earn some 5 points just by emailing the leasing director where you found the hidden Nebraska "N" in the newsletter.    I found it and sent this email.  And yeah, I considered putting the explanation at the start of the post, but I didn't want to punish those who were sharp enough to figure it out by themselves with this boring crap to start out. 

Birthday

For my birthday all my friends got me this gigantic cake.  I was like "Whoa, that's way too much cake!"  But then all of the sudden a stripper burst out of the cake and was like "Oh my god a stripper!"  But then her head started splitting, and it cracked right down the middle and a regular sized birthday cake came out and I was like "Hey, that seems like an appropriate amount of cake for this party." 

Later a scantily clad gerbil came out of the regular size cake, but my friends told me that wasn't part of the plan.  The little fella was probably just hungry. 

Murder Sex!

The Sims is a game where you play god for a small family.  You tell your Sims where to sleep, where to pee, what to pee on, et cetera.  Everyone who has ever played the Sims eventually focuses on either getting the Sims to have sex, or murdering them depending on whether you’re sexually frustrated or just frustrated.   This allows players to feel a connection to their own god, who seems pretty obsessed with sex and murder himself.

Basically any simulation game will come down to sex and murder.   Many games are designed by Puritans, so they allow for murder, but not sex.  Players are not easily deterred though. They create large penis shaped structures in their zoos and theme parks.  They glitch NPC’s to hump statues.  Where there is a will, there is a way. 

The ideal simulation game would be strictly sex and murder.   Combat simulations come close.  You can murder someone and teabag their corpse fairly efficiently.   But in order for the game to sell really well, you need to give your players options.  To really cash in, try to create a game where people just run around killing and/or having sex with everyone they see, but make sure to make it different enough from Grand Theft Auto that you don’t get sued.

Naming Children

I think a good name for baby would be "Help Yourself".  At first it will seem weird, but when the kid grows up and starts working, he'll have a hell of a time keeping  people from stealing his food from the break room fridge.

Math

Nothing makes me feel better then when I hear someone make a small mathematical mistake.  I think "Wow, I am better then that person in every way possible."  Now some people may argue, hey shouldn't that read "better than" not "better then" I must be better than you in every way possible.  Whatever, it doesn't work with grammar. 

Possessions

Many people will define themselves by their possessions.  Who they are is what they have.  They're always saying
"I have a nice car"
"I have a huge TV"
"I have a beautiful wife"
And before you go on about how wives aren't possessions, keep in mind the hypothetical couple in that last example are republican.

Other people refuse to let physical objects define themselves.  They are more focused on whats inside.  They say stuff like
"I'm extremely poor"
"Which way to the bus stop?"
"Can I have some food?"

Personally I like to gear my possessions around the possibility that I might one day get amnesia.  Dazed and confused in my apartment I would find a grappling hook and night vision goggles.
"I must be a spy!" I would think, "That would explain the shitty apartment...I'm undercover!"  I like to put up fake to-do lists so that very stressful moment of 'Who am I?!' is eased by thoughts of awesomeness.

To Do:
1. Save America's Freedom
2. Send Jenkins to wash the Mercedes
3. Call Lucy Lawless back
4. Accept Nobel prize for video games
5. Know that deep within you lies the dormant spirit of an ancient creature that will one day awaken granting you untold powers and a pretty cool sword.  And while the powers and the sword may both be really cool at first, you must use them to battle an evil so great that the devil himself cowers.  It will be revealed to you that your girlfriend is really a princess, who knows some pretty cool spells that might aid in your conquest.  There will a friend of yours who will also help, and while his powers are relatively shitty, it is important to keep him around for comic relief.  Together the three of you must fight to save the world from the hellish nightmare that this foul demon would set forth.


And if I ever upgrade to photoshop from MS paint, I will probably have pictures of myself doing awesome things hanging around.

My sister

is a hipster.

Army Guys

If you're me, or someone similar, then you played with army guys as a kid.  Everyone loved army guys.  They were the little plastic people your father wouldn't scold you for playing with.  They came in two colors; Green and Different Green.  The Greens were always fighting each other, which I think is because the toy company was prepping the youth for a race war.

Army guys came in a lot of cool poses.  There was "Gun-Shooter", "Double Gun-Shooter", "Flamethrower Guy", and my personal favorite "Right-In-The-Middle-Of-Throwing-A-Grenade Guy".  He was always squad leader!  There was one pose that was just plain horrible.  Army crawl guy.  This soldier was perpetually crawling, which made playing with him pretty difficult.  I'd always have to invent wild stories as to why he was on the ground when everyone else was standing.  Like in the base before the enemy attack.

Captain Gernadey:  Why are you on the floor Johnson?
Johnson:  I lost a bullet, I think it rolled under this gigantic pencil.
Captain Gernadey:  Oh no, the different greens have attacked, quick to the perimeter!
Johnson: I'm on my way!
Captain Gernadey: Why are you crawling?
Johnson: Well its not a race.

Of course every set came with about a million of these.  I always ended up killing them first.  Captain Gernadey would often manage to take out the entire enemy army crawl squad in one shot.  Why do you think he was captain?  Of course half the other guys would end up lying on the ground too.  The ability to stand on their own was not a highlighted feature of army guys.  These guys would do battle leaning against tanks a lot of the time. Sort of a half-loitering style of combat.

My typical fights were pretty exciting.  One side would always win with a brilliant strategy.  The only one I remember well is that one green side would often launch up a guy using a tank cannon to land on a low strafing fighter jet.  The guy would hijack the fighter jet, after somehow entering the cockpit, and turn the tide of the battle.  To combat the strategy, sometimes the different green would launch their own guys up on the plane using their tanks.  An exciting battle on the wings would ensue.

I was an impressionable youngster and one day someone told me that playing war was wrong.  That I shouldn't play around by making plastic men die.   What about their plastic loved ones?  Naturally I was ashamed.  So from then on, in the battle set up stage, I would make up a story how it wasn't really war, it was just some guys playing virtual reality war.  I was pretending people were pretending to fight.  Basically the same plot you'll see in Inception 2.

I solved bigotry.

My theory is that the gradual decline of racism is fueling homophobia.  And I base my hypothesis on the underlying principle "Haters gonna' hate".  In fact, haters aren't just going to hate, they NEED to hate.  From the attitudes of our grandparents, we can tell that in the olden days it was okay to hate on anyone who wasn't a straight white male christian.  Social norms have changed and now certain bigotry can ostracize you from many social circles.  The other day I was playing online video game, when a teammate of mine said "You play like a god damn brazilian"  He meant this negatively.  This is clearly a hater clutching at straws, desperate to find a group of people he is better than.

It is clear that hating is a problem.  We can't stop it, but we can funnel it.  The ideal goal is to get people to hate each other on an individual basis, like I often do.  However, for most people, this is impractical.  Luckily, I have a solution.  First, the government should invent a country. Zarachia for example.  Next an underground campaign will be launched to make the Zarachian people hated.  Got a Polish joke? Now it's a Zarachian joke.  Got an anti-Semitic joke?  Now its a Zarachian religion joke.  Got a dead baby joke?  Now its a Zarachian dead baby joke.

Secret government officials will be introduced as Zarachian families living discretely in neighborhoods around the country.  They will have mockable accents, comedic language, and bizarre rituals no one can understand.  The government officials will try to be all the negative stereotypes more so then the present holders of those stereo types.  They will be covetous, lying thieves who cant drive.  They will  be stupid loud drunks.  Anytime the police have an unsolved crime, they will tell the public it was a Zarachian.  This should bring up some of the grass root hating that is so vital when you are trying to undermine an entire people.

By creating a group bigots of all types can hate, this should lessen the hate on real people.  Critics will say that the solution should focus on eliminating senseless hate, not misdirecting it.  Others might say anyone with a map would be able to see through the plan.  But let us think of the lightning rod.

The 1700's had a problem.  Lightning was fucking up shit.  Many inventors tried to eliminate lightning all together.  Hah, what fools.  Ben Franklin invented the lightning rod.  Or I guess you could say he found a different use for a metal stick.  Either way, the important thing is he didnt stop lightning, he misdirected it.

In regard to the "Made up country" issue, consider the venn diagram I made of Bigotrous Desires vs. Geographical Awareness.
   O   O

Computers

I'm like a nerd but without the intelligence. People will say to me "Hey, you lack social skills and fashion sense, will you help me fix my computer?"  Eager to maintain the illusion I have redeeming qualities, I comply. 
"What are your specs?"
"Describe your last megabyte."
"Wheres your RAM go when no ones looking?"
I ask hoping they don't know the answers so I can smile condescendingly.  Then I fiddle with their computer.  Pressing buttons and frowning.  "Hmm, did you mess with your settings here?" I ask accusingly pointing to a random window. 
"No, no!"
"Well I've adjusted the calibrations, if I just restart the computer it should work now."  Then I just pray a restart works...it usually does. 

It's not just computers, I also dont understand super computers, televisions, television remotes, half time shows, or large hadron colliders.

cool people

I don’t have a degree in psychology and was surprised to find that that fact didn’t directly stop me from making sweeping generalities of all mankind.  The first is that people are terrible.  The second, and more important, says that anything a person sees being done increases the odds of that person doing it too.   In other words every action is contagious.  If you whisper to someone, they are likely to whisper back.  If you punch someone in the face, they’re likely to punch you right back.  And if two pieces of anecdotal evidence isn’t enough to establish a general rule, then let it be said I’ve learned nothing from political debate.  

If people see something being done enough, eventually they want to try it themselves.  Why do you think sex is so popular?  Of course a lot of it depends how much the person doing the action is admired.  If your favorite band all has purple hair, then you're more likely to dye your hair purple than if your boss had purple hair.  People are constantly looking up at cooler people to see how they should act.  Those people in turn look up to even cooler people.  And so on.  

This system has been a part of every  major society for centuries.  Take ancient Egypt.  The pharaoh was the coolest guy in town.  He had all the latest gold hats, and an army of slaves.  Plus his dad had a huge pyramid and was dead so the pharaoh probably threw sweet parties all the time.  The pharaoh had a whole system worked out where even after death, he would remain pretty cool.  Egyptians looked to him and thought "Man, that guy is cool! I want my brain pulled out from my nose too!"


Being cool is great, but climbing the social ladder can be difficult.  The key is to quietly just do what the cool people are doing.  Eventually people above you will make a mistake and demonstrate individualism, dooming them to obscurity.  If you remain steadfast in your goal to follow the cool people, you will rise as more of these "individuals" fall.  Eventually you will have achieved coolness.  You can use your coolness to dictate the actions of those below you.  Your minions so to speak.  But be careful!  If you start using your minions in a way that is too different than the way the other cool people are, your cool power may be called into question, and then you'll be back to square one.

Making fun of twilight

Making fun of Twilight is like beating up a six year old.  It's not that hard. . . no one's that impressed. . . and the people who liked the six year old before you beat him up still like him after.

New Law

I think that worker morale and customer civility would both be improved if every employee was allowed to taser one person at work per year.