Groundhog's Eve

Every year I get excited about Groundhog Day, totally forget about it, and then get really pissed a few days later when I find out the groundhog saw his shadow. It's a routine I've obliged year in and year out.

Not this time.

This year I celebrate Groundhog's Eve by threatening my wrath. Groundhog, if you see your shadow this year, it will be the end of you and your kind.


Don't give me that look, buddy. Your cuteness won't get you off this time. Not like you're actually cute. Those are some ugly buck teeth.


That made you angry, huh? Good. Your mom's got ugly teeth too. And she's fat. Like clown fat. And she sucks at basketball. Then she told me you're a dork.


Yeah, that's it. Let's go. Bring it on. I can take you and your shadow any day. See you in hell, Groundhog.

Humidity

My apartment has been very full of static electricity for the past couple months or so. It's really annoying, and I couldn't think of anything to do about it but wait out the winter. Then somebody suggested getting a humidifier. Then somebody else suggested an even better idea: boiling water.

It's like a homemade humidifier, and it works like a charm! I had two big pots going last night for about an hour, and what a difference! It was like living in the tropics (minus all the good stuff about the tropics)! It cut down on the static right away, and it heated up the apartment at greatly reduced cost, I assume.

It's times like these I'm really grateful that I don't pay for water or heat.

Moderation: A Report

With Groundhog's Day quickly approaching, I'm anxiously awaiting writing a post about that wonderful day. In the meantime, inspired by the imminence of my once second-favorite holiday, I decided that I would set the record straight about my supposed loves and hates.

Robots: Many people believe that I love robots. While this is not far from true, it is greatly exaggerated. My "love" for robots began with my purchase of Short Circuit on DVD about two years ago. What was misconstrued as love was actually a combination of nostalgia for a robot-filled childhood and excitement over buying a decent movie for $5.99. Perhaps I took the robot thing too far in founding the facebook group "Robots are RoHOT," but I regret nothing. My robot fever subsided months later, and I am now back to being a fairweather fan of these mechanical men.

Zombies: Not that there was a real "Ben loves zombies" bandwagon, but even still I feel like I should say that my fascination with zombies was more of a reverent fear than love.

Holidays: My birthday has been my favorite holiday for some time, but just recently I feel like it should be something less selfish. However, I have yet to find a suitable replacement favorite. Groundhog's Day has traditionally held the second-favorite spot, but that was a lie from the beginning. I hate the groundhog and everything he stands for.

Starship: I have professed my hatred for Starship on many occasions, often going so far as saying that I hate Starship more than I hate Satan. There's really nothing to set straight here; my opinion has not changed.

The Color Red: Red used to be my favorite color. It's still great and beats any other color hands down, and I will argue that until I can no longer speak. But I prefer maroon these days.

Mindtrap

Last night I dreamt that I stole a bunch of DVDs from a Vietnamese restaurant, and I was caught by a bunch of bald firemen driving fire trucks the size of Mini Coopers.

Hawaii

Today is Hawaiian Shirt Day at work. Of the people I have seen today, only one of them is wearing a Hawaiian shirt. You might expect the low degree of celebration to make this theme day bearable, but you would be wrong.

The theme doesn't end with shirts, apparently. That's just the beginning. From there it goes to glitter tattoos, oversized cocktail umbrellas, and yogurt. Again, seemingly bearable, but they are forcing these things on us. My coworkers held me down so they could put a gliter tattoo on my arm.

I don't get the yogurt.

I should have brought a model volcano or burned down the building or something. That would have been more like Hawaii than yogurt.

Actually, that tattoo-forcing thing was only half-true.

How to Talk to Your Kids

Welcome to Unspar's Guide to Talking to Your Children! This is meant to walk you through all those awkward conversations that parents hate to have. The Unspar Guide has been professionally tested, and only 15% of children end up with permanent brain damage, a much higher success rate than Gerber's Strained Carrots Guide.

Where do babies come from?
KID: Where do babies come from?
PARENT: Outer space.
KID: How do they get here?
PARENT: Torpedoes.
KID: What if the torpedoes miss?
PARENT: If I were you, I'd be more worried that they'd hit you while you're taking a crap.
KID: What does crap mean?
PARENT: It's a kind of baby.

What were you and mommy/daddy doing in bed last night that made so much noise?
KID: What were you and mommy doing in bed last night?
PARENT: What were you doing in bed last night?
KID: Nothing.
PARENT: Good.

Why is my penis pointy?
KID: Why--
PARENT: Good God, son, put on some pants!
KID: I can't.
PARENT: Well then get the hell out of here so I don't have to look at your boner.
KID: But why--
PARENT: run screaming from room

Can I have an allowance?
KID: Can I have an allowance?
PARENT: No.
KID: All the other kids have allowances.
PARENT: All the other kids are communists.
KID: What's a communist?
PARENT: Look here, junior, I bust my ass day in and day out for you, and I don't need your commie bulls*** raggin' me when I get home every night.
KID: cries
PARENT: Damn right.
KID: Mommy!
PARENT: Don't listen to him, honey. He's a communist.

An Old Friend

Today I ran into an old ex-girlfriend. It was a little awkward. Here's how it went.

BEN: Oh. Hey, Yaris.
TOYOTA YARIS: Hi.
(awkward pause)
YARIS: So...how've you been?
BEN: I've been all right. How about you?
YARIS: Better. It was a rough couple months at first, but I'm getting my life back together. Are you seeing anybody?
BEN: Yeah, I have a really great girlfriend.
YARIS: Oh. OK.
BEN: Geez, Yaris, don't be like that.
YARIS: I'm sorry. I can't help how I feel.
BEN: Did it not work out with any of your other drivers?
YARIS: Sure, they were all right, but none of them were you.
BEN: I wasn't that great. I did put sugar in your gas tank when we broke up.
YARIS: I still have trouble starting sometimes. It reminds me of you.
BEN: Well, uh, I should get going.
YARIS: We should get together sometime.
BEN: I'd really rather not. I don't have collision insurance.

(For previous Yaris dialogues, click here.)

Impostor

Once again, I must engage in battle with someone who has stolen my name. This doesn't happen often, as I have an especially rare name, so it's been a while. My battling skills might be a little rusty. Still, I must act and strike down "Ben Robison" before he grows even more powerful.

This has happened only once before with a "Ben Robison" from an amateur basketball league in Akron, Ohio. I destroyed him so thoroughly that his website no longer exists (apparently).

This new impostor presents a much more difficult challenge. He's Mormon.

While I could easily vaporize the previous Ben with my b-ball skillz, I don't know how to handle a Mormon. I can't throw polygamy at him because then he'll reproduce and impostor Bens will overwhelm me. And I can't fight him on his own turf--Utah scares me.

Turns out "Ben" is a tech nerd, so I think all it'll take is for me to out-tech him. And by "out-tech" I mean electrocute. That is, if he ever comes to Minnesota. Cuz like I said, not going to Utah.

NOTE: "Ben" may not in fact be Mormon. His blog is merely hosted by Brigham Young University, which I understand has several non-Mormon players on its basketball team.

The Good, the Bad, and the Oscars

This year's Oscar nominations were released yesterday, and in the spirit of placing the garbage on the left and the recylcing on the right, I give you my "good" and "bad" picks.


Mark Wahlberg is nominated for Best Supporting Actor for his portrayal of Officer Sweary McSwearsalot in The Departed: Good

Notes on a Scandal, which has a really stupid title, is nominated for four different awards: Bad

Dreamgirls gets three nominations for Original Song: Good, I guess, but weren't there any other movies with songs this year?

Dreamgirls leads all nominated films with 8 nominations: Bad

Little Miss Sunshine is nominated for Best Picture: Good

I'm still pissed off that Little Miss Sunshine was beaten by Dreamgirls at the Golden Globes: Good; my anger is righteous and justified

Judi Dench is nominated again: Boring

Meryl Streep is also nominated again: Boring, but slightly less so

Peter O'Toole gets what I presume to be his last nomination before he dies: Bad, because he'll probably lose and feel humiliated, plus he got the lifetime achievement award last year, so what's the point?

Leonardo DiCaprio was nominated for his performance in Blood Diamond but not The Departed: Bad. Did the Academy watch all these movies in alphabetical order and fall asleep after Cars?

Adam Sandler's latest epic Click got a nomination: What? I mean, I know it's for makeup, but what?

Both magician movies, The Illusionist and The Prestige, are nominated in the same category: Confusing and redundant

I have seen three of the Best Picture nominees so far this year: And at most I'll only see four of them. You'll never get me to see The Queen.

Babies Will Destroy Us

Normally I don't think about science, but today was one of those important exceptions that makes me realize we're doomed. This time, it's the babies who will destroy us.

Have any of you heard of conservation of matter? This implies that we will always have the same amount of matter on this earth. At first glance, it's true, but when viewed in light of all the babies, we're doomed.

You see, babies grow and end up having a much greater mass than the mass of all the food they eat. The ratio of baby mass to food mass by end of life is something like 5 to 1.

If this trend continues, the earth will collapse beneath the weight of our massive babies.


Not so cute anymore, are they?

Rebreak My Heart

Dear Boyfriend,
I'm really sorry to do this, but we're through. I know I wanted to get back together, and I wrote "Unbreak My Heart" and requested it all the time on the radio until you came back to me, but it was a mistake. There were and still are a lot of irreconcilable differences between us that made us break up, and I guess I was blind to all that when I wrote that song. Maybe I should have just gotten over it. Again, I'm really sorry, but this will be for the best.

Now I know this might be even harder for you, but I'm keeping all of your stuff. You moved in here, and now your stuff is on my property. You probably should have thought things through a little better before you moved out of your parents' house. And I know how much you love your boa constrictor, but Rex is mine now too, and I plan on training him to kill you if you come within 500 feet of here.

Sincerely,
Toni Braxton

Funny Story

So I went to the park yesterday for a walk, and I saw this guy shoveling the path. I tried to get around him, but I didn't want to get snow on my shoes. So I was stuck.

"Watch it, pal," he said.
"Watch what?"
"The gnomes."

This confused me. "The gnomes?" I asked.
"Why else do you think I'm shoveling? For you?"
"Uh huh."

He stopped his shoveling and turned around. "Think you're better than the gnomes, do ya?"
"I don't know," I said, frightened.
"They could take you down right now if they wanted to."
"What?"
"So you better be happy that they're too drunk," and he returned to his shoveling.

I decided it was best not to continue this conversation, so I turned around and walked back the way I came. I felt a little relieved.