Bridges

I drove over the new 35W bridge for the first time last week. It was like a trip down memory lane, back when I used to take the old bridge to friends' houses. Those were simpler times. Anyway, I like the new bridge. It definitely feels a lot sturdier.

But I am deathly afraid that this new bridge is ripe for troll habitation. There weren't any problems with trolls on the old bridge, but I'm not so sure about this new one. What if some billy goats try and cross the bridge? I don't know how that story ends, but those goats may have goaded the troll into eating everyone it sees.

The other thing I hate about trolls is the troll tax. As if living with the threat of being eaten by trolls isn't enough, you also have to pay the troll tax. And what does it pay for? Wildlife protection. I can protect my own wildlife without paying the trolls for it, thank you very much.

I, for one, refuse to pay the troll tax. What are you going to do about it, America?

Panic Day!

Did you hear that Congress rejected the bailout plan? And did you also hear that stocks took a record-breaking single-day drop? And have you read any hilarious blog entries about it yet?

Me neither. Mostly the hilarious blog entry part, though. Which is a shame, cuz what's funnier than a global economic collapse? Maybe guinea pigs being shot out of cannons, but that's all I could think of.


This is the funniest cartoon I could find about the economic crisis. My favorite part is, "Bank failures continue."

We're dead.

Cake vs. Pie

When I was a young lad, I always hated pie and loved cake (unless it was angelfood cake, which is gross). Eventually, I came to see the two as polar opposites, like matter and anti-matter. This, of course, is not true.

But wouldn't it be hilarious if they were polar opposites? It would probably start with extended families being divided over serving pie at Thanksgiving or cake at some birthday party, then there'd be wars over which dessert should be served more often, and pretty soon the universe would end when cake and pie touched each other. Intense.

So hey, how come people never eat birthday pie? How come it's always birthday cake? If it's because falling face-first into a cake is safer than falling face-first into a pie, then that was remarkably well-thought out by whoever thought it out.

Ode to Natural Flavoring

When I take a drink of this soda,
Sometimes I wonder what it tastes like.
Most of the time it's impossible to tell
What the flavor might be. Maybe it's
Chocolate, or pineapple, or granite,
And I've never tasted granite before,
So I guess if that's the flavor they used,
I would be forever stumped.
Indeed, it could very well be any of those,
For this soda refuses to reveal
The secrets of its deliciousness.
But then again, it probably isn't
Any flavor I could name, because
The flavors are all artificial, which means
I might not be tasting anything at all.

Oh, artificial flavoring, you poison
My sodas and crackers and jellies
With, I don't know, platypus eyes?
You seduce me with something delicious,
And I eat it, but you won't tell me
What you used to make it so tasty.
It's really not fair. Stop being a jerk.
Are you from outer space? If so,
We should completely destroy outer space
So I can go back to natural flavors,
The flavors I can understand, the ones
That won't trick me into eating Chinese food
When it's actually yesterday's garbage.
You think you can hide in outer space, but
I'm smarter than you, whatever you are.

Return to me, natural flavors, I beg you.
I never should have tasted anything else.
You always tell me the truth, even when
It's gross and makes me cry, and you won't
Leave me when I get fat and annoying,
Or when I forget our anniversary or
Your favorite color. (I totally remembered,
But you just put me on the spot, and that
Makes me a little uncomfortable.) You taste
Way better than that artificial crap,
And you don't yell at me when I want to go out
With the guys or spend some time alone
In my room. Thank you, natural flavoring,
For loving me for who I am.

There's Trouble A-Brewin'

NAIVE GENTLEMAN: Wow, look at those clouds.
GRIZZLED OLD DIRT-FARMER: Yep. There's trouble a-brewin'.
GENTLEMAN: Well, a storm's coming, if that's what you mean.
DIRT-FARMER: You stole the idol, didn't ya?
GENTLEMAN: What idol?
DIRT-FARMER: The idol in the temple. The one that appeases the storm gods. Where is it?
GENTLEMAN: I didn't take it. I don't even like idols.
DIRT-FARMER: Well it don't rain here unless the idol's outta place. Did you help somebody take it?
GENTLEMAN: Honestly, I just stopped here to use the restroom, and I really have no idea what you're talking about.
DIRT-FARMER: The ninja probably got it agin.
GENTLEMAN: Ninja?
DIRT-FARMER: Yep. There's a ninja lives 'round these parts. Pulls a lotta pranks like this.
GENTLEMAN: He's probably not a real ninja.
DIRT-FARMER: Careful, sonny. I know a couple too many people who ended up in mighty big trouble cuz they underestimated the ninja.
GENTLEMAN: I think I'll get going now. (Notices his car is gone) Hey, where's my car?
DIRT-FARMER: Ninja musta got it.
GENTLEMAN: Great. Now I have to walk to college.
DIRT-FARMER: College, huh?
(The gentlemen is suddenly struck with a dozen shuriken.)
DIRT-FARMER: What's a college degree good for if it don't even teach ya how to fight ninjas?
NINJA: (appears out of nowhere) Shut up, dad.
DIRT-FARMER: Boy! What'd I tell you about stealin' idols and killin' city folk!
NINJA: Don't do it.
DIRT-FARMER: Now you put that idol back right now or you ain't gettin' no taters for breakfast tomorrow!
NINJA: (slinks off in shame to return the idol to the temple)
DIRT-FARMER: If only you'da been a dirt farmer like you're old man. Who's gonna inherit the dirt farm when I pass on?
NINJA: Joe-Joe wants to be a dirt farmer like you, pa.
DIRT-FARMER: Joe-Joe's a gorilla, son.

De-Renouncing the Internet

Internet, you are no longer dead to me. I know I said some pretty harsh things a few weeks ago when I kicked you out of the house, but I take it back. I was just angry about all the porn you had lying around. And I'm still angry about that, actually. You should clean yourself up.

But no matter how I feel, it was wrong of me to say that I hated you and would never contribute to your infinite pages of blogdom anymore. I shouldn't have covered you with all that melted cheese. Maybe in a different context that would have been funny, but this time it was from a cruel and bitter heart. I'm sorry.

Do you forgive me?

Thanks. Next time I get mad, I'll just yell at the cat, and then we can all go get some ice cream together.

In Lieu of Real Creativity, I Blog about Golf

In the midst of my barely-endurable boredom at work today, I noticed a headline about Tiger Woods. I'm not going to out my sources, but rest assured that this a real quote. It said something like, "Finally Tiger Woods has something to celebrate--his wife is pregnant with his second child."

So yeah, finally something turns out good for Tiger Woods. I wouldn't be that excited about being the world's richest athlete, having tons of golf championships (cuz golf is stupid), or shooting a Gatorade commercial on the moon either. I am in complete agreement that, until now, life has been pretty lame for Mr. Woods.

But what that first child? Some day he or she is going to read that article and be like, "Hey Dad, I know that you were never that big on owning four island nations or having perhaps the most precise hand-eye coordination of any non-video gamer on the planet, but the first thing that was worth celebrating in your life was the kid who came after me? Did I used to have Down Syndrome?"

Maybe that first child thing didn't work out too well in the long run. I can understand that. I'm sure Stalin's parents eventually soured on that whole thing. But even then, they must have celebrated his birth. Tiger couldn't have given up on child #1 before it'd even drawn a breath in this world. I can, however, imagine him saying, "Big deal, baby. I'm waiting on #2," which I believe were his exact words following his first championship.