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Archive for December, 2012

Some Thoughts On The Film ‘Superbad’

December 20, 2012 1 comment

Who did all the penis drawings? It’s a very odd job to have to set up. How long did it take to illustrate all those? Was it one person, or did everyone on the crew draw one up over the course of production? And if it was just one person, how much did he or she get paid? Did they contract it out, or did the producers have a specific artist in mind? Does the artist tell his/her family and friends, “Hey, if you ever see Superbad, I did all the penis drawings,” or not tell anyone?

If you know the answers to any of these questions, please, let me know.

The No-Splash Urinal—How About It, Science?

December 17, 2012 4 comments

Here’s a brief history lesson:

Isaac Newton

This is how Isaac Newton invented gravity. One night, while working in the Swiss Patent Office, he found himself drawing out some equations that would later become the theory of special relativity. He took a break to peer through his telescope, inadvertently discovered Earth’s moon, and in his excitement knocked an apple off of a table. It fell to the floor, and rolled under a desk, where it came to rest next to a moldy piece of bread. Newton thought about how the bread had been sitting on the ground, and not floating around the room, for weeks. A light bulb, which he later patented, lit up over his head. This moldy piece of bread had led to the invention of gravity. Out of scientific curiosity, he took a bite of the bread. Later on, while urinating, he noticed that the burning sensation that he normally experienced had went away. “Well slap my ass and call me Sally,” he thought, “I’ve just discovered penicillin.” As Sally walked into the office of his immediate superior to tell of the history that was being made, he was not greeted with “Congrats,” “Way to go,” or even a hug. What his boss said was, “Why is there urine all over the front of your clothes?”

It was a fair question. Newton was notorious for having an abnormally powerful flow, and bathrooms back then were very cramped. Imagine shooting a fire hose at a brick wall from a foot away, and you will get a glimpse of what life was like for this man. Surprisingly, he never went on to solve the problem of the splatter effect so conducive to the public urinal. Many posit that this odd shortcoming in his influential career was due to his obsession, in later years, with finding a socially acceptable way to seduce the sheep, Dolly, that he had cloned. All hope was lost a short time later, when he became a complete recluse after publishing The Catcher In The Rye.

So, if somebody could pick up where Newton fell short and make a urinal that entirely eliminates any sort of splash and splatter, we would all owe you a great debt of gratitude. Yet if Frank Urinal, the inventor of the urinal, couldn’t figure it out, we may be doomed.

12/12/12

December 12, 2012 2 comments

It’s true, 12/12/2012 will only happen once. 12/12/1912 only happened once too. So did 12/12/1812. And tomorrow will be the only time 12/13/2012 ever happens. It’s a paradox–it’s special because it only happens once in history, but since every day has only happened once in history, every day is the same in that regard. Mind-bottling stuff, folks.

The Government Should Regulate And Make Everything Illegal Except For Vegetables

Knives kill. Cars kill. Alcohol kills. Drugs kill. Racism kills. Teeth kill. Terrorism kills. Sports kill. Pennies, if used creatively, kill. Ideas kill. Meat is murder. Oil pollutes. Gas pollutes. Plastic pollutes. Everything is bad, and people can’t use anything without hurting somebody. That is why vegetables should be the only thing that humans are allowed to use without government intervention (and water, maybe–still dangerous). We can’t be trusted with anything else. Fruits get a limited pass, but their sweetness is a little too close to the borderline of pleasure for my taste. And pleasure, as we all know, causes AIDS, which kills. We must invent a way to eliminate human contact, which kills, yet we still need to perpetuate the species. This is why we still need guns. The reasons are two-fold:

1) I already said earlier that knives kill. So how do you chop up your scrumptious meal of vegetables every day without a knife? You shoot the vegetables, from a safe distance, with a gun. This explodes them into smaller, easily ingestible portions that have the least chance of choking you. And you can shoot anyone who tries to steal your vegetables.

2) Human contact causes disease and death. We know this. But we still need to create humans so that all the vegetables we are growing don’t become sentient and take over the world, thus producing a hedonistic, all-enveloping culture of everything antithetical to the race of vegetable-loving gun enthusiasts that we will happily become after all this legislation goes through. Enter…….badabadabadabada……. the pregnancy gun. It shoots government-approved pregnancy-inducing goop into human females from a distance of no less than 50 yards. No way to get HIV there.

So there you have it. All we need–vegetables and guns.

My New Way Of Responding To Invitations

I get invited to a lot of stuff. That’s how my life is. In the past, I would respond to the hordes of phone calls, emails, texts, and verbal invitations with a statement like “Maybe,” “We’ll see,” “Sounds fun,” “I’ll let you know,” etc. I know better now. Instead of using one of the previous generic statements, I have started saying “I am expressing interest in your event, but I am also politely taking a noncommittal stance. Thank you for your time.” It’s classy, stylish, and it doesn’t tie you down to anything. People don’t badger you for a confirmation, and if you don’t show up, they think to themselves, “Oh yeah, he did take a noncommittal stance. Maybe I should have better parties.”

This phrase is raising the bar for my entire social circle. People have begun to wonder why I’m so noncommittal lately. This leads them to step up their event planning, in hopes that I’ll show up.

My Three-Year-Old Nephew Has An Eight-Year-Old Girlfriend

He may not know her name, and we aren’t sure if the girl in question is aware of the fact that they’re dating, but little Gavi-Shenanigans is in his mind officially dating a girl nearly three times as old as he is. All we know is that she’s petite, and, given her age, still very vivacious—I can really do nothing but respect Baby G for taming the Cougar. This is the equivalent of me dating a woman in her mid-eighties, which is a quest I have recently been looking into.

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