I was helping a friend move a piano recently. As we tried to move the mammoth, we tilted, lifted, rolled, whatever the hell it took to get it down the stairs and out the door. Now, the piano is the most extreme object I’ve had to move, but you go through the same shit trying to get a couch through the door, or kitchen table, whatever. It occurred to me, especially when moving the piano, that moving pieces of furniture in and out of buildings is like one of those puzzles in one of the Saw movies. You know, you need to solve the puzzle or you die. Fucking ridiculous, man. Moving this piano was literally a stupid fucking puzzle that would kill us if we didn’t do it right. Especially when the anchor man was getting run over by the piano. Seriously, this poor guy was about two inches from going down with the ship and becoming a Thanksgiving pancake. Luckily, he survived, and we didn’t need to clean him up with a mop. Happy Thanksgiving, you didn’t die moving a piano.
Archive for November, 2009
Moving pianos and shit
Thursday, November 26th, 2009Fuck Salad.
Thursday, November 26th, 2009I recently went on a road trip. The destination is currently irrelevant. We were heading east from Chicago, along the Indiana and Ohio turnpikes. We stopped at one of their nifty rest stops along the way. You know, the ones with the eight thousand restaurants, five gift shops and optional sunroof. There was a Fazoli’s kiosk in the joint, which we decided to visit. Fazoli’s, for those of you who don’t know, is an Italian fast-food sort of joint. For their combo meal options, they had a choice of a slice of pizza or a salad. I saw the salad choice and immediately became offended. My style of cooking consists of taking cholesterol and sauteing it in trans fats. For dessert, we have a stick of butter rolled in powdered sugar and covered in hot fudge. Seriously, fuck you, and fuck your salad! The health option has been completely obliterated for me. Enough is enough. Don’t offer me a fucking salad, asshole.
The Real American Smokeout
Thursday, November 19th, 2009Okay, so today is the Great American Smokeout, a day in which the American Cancer Society challenges smokers to quit for one day, in hopes that we will quit forever. Sounds to me like the person who came up with this idea probably wasn’t a smoker. Quitting smoking is hard enough without having to hear some jack-ass tell me that it’s time to quit. I will quit in my own time, thank you. I am proposing an alternative. I have noticed in recent years that the smoking population has been facing discrimination for our habit. Most people would argue that, since we choose to smoke, that it isn’t really discrimination, since we could stop if we wanted to. I call bullshit on that right now. Smoking has been banned in workplaces and on airplanes. I’m okay with that. I don’t want people to be forced to sit near me when I’m smoking if they don’t like it. That’s not what I’m trying to accomplish. Restaurants. I don’t mind when people smoke around me when I eat, but I know people do, and I’m okay with that. But dammit, they have pushed us out of bars. Bars are places that serve alcohol, and cater to a crowd of ADULTS. Adults, who have the right to leave if they don’t like the atmosphere. This is the part that makes me downright sick. Nobody goes to a bar to do anything healthy in the first place. Besides, there are usually no children in a bar (and if there are, you are in the wrong kind of bar). I am sick of being pushed outside and treated like a lesser person because of how I choose to relax.
Here is what I propose. If you are a smoker, then hand out a smoke or two to random people you see during the course of your day tomorrow. If you are a non-smoker, but agree that smokers have the same rights as anyone else in this country, do the same. Smokers, smoke a cigarette today for freedom. Non-smokers, if you are fed up with this bullshit legislation that tells bars how to run their business, sport a smoke on your ear for the day. I urge all people, not to be a prick about this, but to make others aware of this tyrannical law. This aggression should not stand, but it is. I am not trying to bring Joe Camel back; I just want a beer and a smoke again.
Sex causes amnesia?
Wednesday, November 4th, 2009There is a couple who had sex back in 2008. I know, I was shocked too. Seriously, they had sex. Cool, huh? Alright, enough. Stop laughing perverts. Well, they had sex, and the woman got amnesia from it. That’s the funny part. She knew who she was, but she didn’t know what day it was, how she got where she was, who the president was (granted it was 2008, so I would like to have forgotten that too), or anything. She lay in a hospital bed, cracking the same jokes over and over. According to research, she suffered from from something called transient global amnesia, or TGA. The woman recalled having a headache the night before, and after that, “apparently, the next morning, [her] husband and [she] had intercourse. From what [she] found out, there was an orgasm.” No shit. That’s usually what happens when you have sex. Somebody usually has an orgasm. At least what it said in my fifth grade science book.
Okay, as far as amnesia after sex goes, that dude is a god. If I were him, I would feel like a freaking bad-ass! That is ridiculous. Holy crap! That’s is talent! For the single guys out there, I can;t imagine a greater gift than getting freaky with a woman, and then forgetting all about you. You wouldn’t have to do that whole awkward thing if you never want to see her again. You know what I’m talking about. When you see her at a bar and are praying to any deity who will listen that she won’t notice you, but does, and you have to do that, “Oh, hey…,” and play it off. Damn, that sucks.
Honestly, sex after amnesia is pretty common among males. After sex, we forget that the woman is still in bed. We forget that we wanted anything from her, we forget that we even had a conversation. Sometimes, we forget her name! Don’t look at me like that, it has happened to almost every guy out there, so don’t look at me like I’m some kind of insensitive asshole. I know I am some kind of insensitive asshole, but don’t look at me like I am, dammit. You all have fun, I’m signing off.
Traditional values = running your daughter over with car….
Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009A 20-year old woman is dead after being hit by a car. As stated in my previous post, I don’t write about people dying, but this one is just so damn bizarre I couldn’t leave it alone. The woman was a 20-year old of Iraqi descent. She and her family moved to America in the mid-1990s. Her father had become upset over the way she dressed, and her resistance to his rules. He believed she was becoming too westernized, abandoning traditional Iraqi values, so he ran her down with his car. He then fled to Mexico, leaving his car, and got on a plane to Britain. The Brits were kind enough to tell this asshole to turn around and get back to the US, where the law was waiting to put our cute western handcuffs on him.
Try to walk through this logic with me. The guy thought his daughter was forsaking Iraqi traditions and values, so he ran her over. With a car. He used a western creation to kill a “westernized” person. I’m sure he laughed at the irony all the way to Mexico. What the hell, man? The guy killed his own daughter for embracing a culture not his own? Well, I don’t usually tell other people how to handle their business, but just maybe, that is an “Iraqi tradition” that is best allowed to die? I don’t think that a little teenage rebellion (which is what appears to have brought down the wrath of Pops) should be punished by seeing if your daughter can outrun a car. Maybe that’s a myth he has about us western folks: we can outrun cars. If that’s what he really thinks, he is certainly misinformed. I can barely outrun my skateboard when it gets away from me; a car is completely out of the question. This guy is obviously crazy. There’s no question about that. I can understand wanting to still hold on to your traditions after you leave your home, but this is a level of insanity that is almost unbelievable. What the hell did he think was going to happen? Why the hell did he even bother moving here if he hates our culture so much? What did he think was going to happen to his daughter? He surrounded an impressionable child with a culture that he hates! Do the math, what do you think the outcome is going to be? I can’t think of a fitting punishment for this. I would say chase that asshole around with a car, but I don’t think that will do it justice. Wait, I figured it out. Make that asshole sit around a shopping mall wearing whatever the fashion trend is this week, listening to nothing but rock, rap, punk, metal, and the pop music I hate so much. Make him sit there and listen to all the material-obsessed youth traipse through there, speaking with the mental emptiness of a decapitated chicken. For the rest of his natural life. Is that torture? Maybe. But he deserves every last “LOL-OMG-FML”-ing minute of it. That’s it for now, Rev. is gonna go make poor decisions.
Comment response
Monday, November 2nd, 2009Recently, some random person asked me why I don’t write about serious news, like a terrorist attack or economic status. Here’s the reason why I don’t. There is nothing funny about a bomb blowing shit up and killing people. It’s not even funny if it’s a bunch of clowns that got blown to hell. I write about things that I can rip on mercilessly, not ones that just make me into a complete asshole. I can’t make fun of terrorist acts. I could probably make fun of the economy, but it’s taking of of that for me. Nobody wants to read the funny side of a bunch of people dying, as if there is a funny side to it, and furthermore, I don’t want to write it. So people, please, let’s keep the stupid questions like that one to a minimum. You don’t want to be my next feature, and if you do, get some fucking help, because you are screwed the hell up. Reverend, out…of words for now.
