Archive for October, 2010

I Could Never Be A Woman

October 29, 2010

Or a girl for that matter and it’s not just because I can’t afford the surgery. It’s because the thought of pregnancy skeeves me.

I know that this would be different if I were married and trying to have children. That the whole thing would be a miracle rather than something incredibly animalistic brought on by something that is also animalistic. But I’m not married and I’m definately not looking to have a little hybrid version of myself crawling around my floors.

The thought of having something grow inside of me, latching on and feeding off my intake just bothers me. I think of pregnancy and just see that scene from Alien where the alien pops out of the stomach. Or, since I imagine my kid having style and class, it would be like the scene from Spaceballs where the alien pops out of the stomach.

So that’s why I could never be a female. Because I don’t want to get pregnant and I’m positive I would forget to take my pill. And then aliens might pop out of my stomach.

Seriously. That’s how I was born.


We Live In Historic Times

October 29, 2010

With the 2010 Mid-term elections less than a work week away, coverage on the subject has been overflowing from various news outlets. One thing I heard while watching television was an ad for election night coverage. The ad called this election season ‘the historic 2010 mid-term elections’. This got me wondering if these elections are really historic or if anything should even be called historic before they are, in fact, history. defines historic as well known or important in history. Well, I guess election day 2010 could turn out to be a real important day in history, but it probably won’t be. My reasoning for this is that things that people tend to build up usually disappoint.

Take for instance Christmas. Sure, Christmas day is wonderful, but the build up to Christmas day is really the best part of the whole thing. With homes being lit by lights and decorations, sales in stores, specials on TV, an excuse to drink Egg Nog and get drunk, ect..The anticipation gets the better of us and after the wait is over you feel awful. It just wasn’t as good as you made it out to be and now you have nothing to look forward to. Except New Years Eve and New Years Eve is possibly the worst night of the year (it has a slight edge over your birthday).

With cable news pundits talking up these elections it has become abundantly clear to me that they are just going to mean absolutely nothing in the scheme of things. The balance of power in Washington will stay relatively the same. Politicians who claim to be unlike the person they campaigned against will fall victim to the same temptations as everyone else who holds office. Dogs will not live with cats and smart alec babies will still deserve to be pushed from their height chairs.

This is just how things are and no matter how hard we tell ourselves that we’re going to see something remarkable occur, we still won’t. All we’re seeing is a repeat of something that has already happened. History repeats itself and we’re stuck watching reruns on loop.

I suggest just taking a seat and getting comfortable. Nothing to see here.

What TV Commercials Are Telling Me About Life

October 27, 2010

By watching TV I’ve learned of what the future holds in store for me: I’m going to get diabetes, need to lose weight by getting freezer dried food delivered to me, check my credit score for free, need a law firm to sue someone because I’ve contracted mesothelioma, have awful skin that will require ointments that actors use, need a pill to sleep, Apple will control the world, everyone will be able to know every single thing about me with the push of a button, that there are beautiful women out there all who will never want anything to do with me, and when I have sex I’ll have to figure out how to have it while sitting in a separate bathtub.

I don’t know about you, but I have a feeling that the future is probably going to be just awful and I really don’t need TV commercials to constantly remind me of this; especially when I’m trying to dull myself to the very things they shove down my throat.

To be completely honest, most things in the media just depress me. They depress me because they are fake. And fake things make me sad because it just seems like everyone is a liar. And in the case of popular media, they are. Everyone is getting paid to be fake. The only thing that isn’t pretend our the commericals. Those reminders of what illnesses are lurking behind every breath, how I’ll try to do everything to make myself attractive and still come up short, that my privacy is being compromised more and more every single second and I have to be ok with it or run the risk of not fitting in, that I’ll never be truly happy without the aid of something else.

These are all truths and these are things that are being delivered to you inbetween sitcoms or sporting events which only seem to be there to sedate you a little bit.

Maybe the worst part about it all is that I always go back to it. It’s an abusive relationship and I make excuses.

A PSA of Sorts

October 26, 2010

After my last offering to this half-witted collection of my thoughts, I feel like I should really stress something and be serious for a change.

Drug and alcohol abuse are a serious problem. A problem that can destroy not only your life, but others lives as well. And while my personal views on drug use in America call for a serious change in US policies regarding the matter, the fact remains that partaking in such activities can be incredibly dangerous.

OK. Now that I’ve stated that, go on and do what you want to do. Afterall it’s America and last I checked we’re a free people.

A Pointless Rambling (because of my lack of activity)

October 25, 2010

It’s been several days since I’ve littered this space with pointless nothings about something that is really nothing. So in light of that fact I feel the need to say something even if I have nothing to say. Because of this lack of ideas (and the fact it’s 10 past 6 in the morning and I haven’t slept and I’m pretty sure I’ve been hallucinating for a good 30 minutes) let’s examine the world of hobbits.

I would say that these furry footed cave dwellers are pretty alright. All they are concerned with is being comfortable, eating delicious food, drinking, telling stories and laughing, and of course, smoking from those long pipes of theirs.

Which makes me think that people should start acting like hobbits. And by that I mean that we should all probably smoke what hobbits smoke. Which I’m pretty sure was opium.

I am not a habitual drug user of any kind (not really sure why I put habitual in there) but I have had my wisdom teeth removed and the pills they gave me for the pain made the whole shin-dig worth while. Everything was simply good. I had no worries. The pain in my mouth and anywhere else was gone and I could focus on the finer things in life; like things just being cool.

I offer two reasons why the idea of a world equally medicated is a good, if not great, idea. The first is there would be less fighting. Sure, there will probably be some dicks out there, but they’ll just be annoying rather than violent. And it’ll be easier to ignore them when you’re sitting in a chair and having your mind drift from one thought to another in a perfectly sensible fashion. Imagine a world where terrorists were always stoned.

OK, I know you’re probably thinking, ‘but Keith most opium comes from countries where terrorism is prevalent and some of the highest profiled terrorists are funded by the trafficing of opium. Well, yeah. You’re right about that. But if everyone was “doping” there would be no high profile person to contrive all the propaganda that goes into running a successful terrorist regime. And think about some of the worst people in the world on a substance that makes everything alright. Maybe they wouldn’t be as bad.

My second reason as to why this idea isn’t all that bad is that we’d all be dead a lot sooner. That may sound incredibly cynical, but populations dying younger isn’t the worst thing. As technology advances so does life expectancy. As life expectancy goes up so does consumption of food and natural resources. As the consumption goes up we start running low on the things we need. And then we die out anyway. So in a way, we’d be making life better for our children and our children’s children and so on and so forth. It’s like social security that never runs dry.

The one big pitfall of this whole scheme is that there may come a time where we run out of the very stuff that makes this whole operation work. Sadly I have no ways of fixing that. But by the time that has happened a comet will have probably collided with the earth anyway. I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather not be in a “normal” state of mind when that boom happens.

Ask the dinosaurs. They’ve never quite been the same.

*Just need to clarify that while I’m saying we should all do drugs, I don’t really think we should all do drugs. I don’t want someone to get the wrong impression. Nothing I’ve written here is saying that we should be medicated constantly. Life would just probably be a lot sillier if we were.

Dinner With A Corpse (a fictitious tale)

October 18, 2010

So the other night a friend of mine decided it was about time I got back on that horse and wet my feet again in the dating scene. I was reluctant at first, but figured, I could go out there and see how the water is. Thankfully, my friend had already set me up with someone so all the fear of rejection and the pain of looking was taken care of. All I knew about her was that her name was Elanor and she had dark hair and was rather fond of black and white photos. In fact, all of them were black and white. Must be an artist, I thought.

So the big day comes for our first date and we meet at this trendy bistro in Manhattan, just off of Broadway. As I walked from the subway station to the eatery I stopped an outdoor farmers market and bought a boquet of flowers that was reasonable for the situation. Nothing to expensive or gaudy. Just a simple boquet that gave off a pleasant fragrance.

I arrived at the bistro and proceeded to fix my tie and smooth out any crease I had in my Haggar khaki pants by running the heal of my palm down the fabric. I checked my watch and realized that I was a good ten minutes early. Something I planned for. I peer into the window of the establishment and enter the door and nod to the maitre d’ and check to see if the reservations I made had  been recorded correctly. They were and I breathed a sigh of relief.

While there was still no sign of my date, the maitr d’ kindly escorted me to my table and provided me with the drink specials and the chef’s recommendations. Feeling funny about ordering food before my date arrives, I settle for a gin and tonic, which when it arrives helps calm my nerves.

I nervously start checking my watch realizing that my date is running late. I sit at the table and order another gin and tonic to pass the time.

After a few more gin and tonics, and with a flighty head. I get up and go to where the maitre d’ is. He’s standing at a podium occasionally taking calls and penciling in dinner dates in a big leather bound notebook. After he finishes putting a reservation for some fellow named Harvery Gustav he looks up at me and asks if anything is wrong. I explain to him that I was supposed to have had dinner with someone here and that they are running over an hour late. He has a look of empathy on his face, as if he can tell that while I’m not distraught, I am disappointed. He flips through the book and to where my reservation is recorded and asks what my guests name is. I tell him that her name is Elanor Stevenson. It surprised me that I recalled her last name, though I suppose it’s a simple enough name to remember.

The maitre d’ looks up at me from behind his thick rimmed glasses and informs me that about 10 minutes ago someone called on behalf of an Elanor Stevenson from Woodcrest Elder Care. Apparently Elanor, the lady my friend set me up with, was a patient at the nursing home that my friend worked at. She had been bed ridden for months now and died while trying to get herself out of bed for our date.

I nod my head confused and slightly annoyed that my friend would try to set me up with a geriatric patient. Not wanting to let these reservations go to waste I order another gin and tonic as well as the prime rib with red skinned potatoes and the herb stuffed chicken drizzled with some expensive wine I can’t pronounce.

My date may have died on me, but damn it if I’m not going to eat for two.

Buying Drinks for a Girl is Pretty Much Prostitution

October 18, 2010

And every man has solicited for sex.

Just to get it out of the way, my personal feeling about prostitution is that it should be legal. After all, it’s her body. Why does her providing a service matter to me? And hey, abortion uses the same logic, so why shouldn’t it apply to prositution as well?

So that’s my feeling on that.

But whenever you go to a bar and you are sitting by a marginally attractive female, you will most likely buy her at least one drink. It’ll happen out of nowhere, too. You’ll be enjoying your beverage (mine is always some kind of spritzer) and she’ll come to the bar and order her drink and begin to get her money out. That’s when you will tell her to put her money away and that this drink is on you. She’ll say thanks and take her drink and walk away and sit down with her friends and you’ll wonder why you wasted your money on something that deep down you know would go nowhere.

As much of what my conclusions have been as of late, this finds itself in the same category: Men are stupid. If you’re buying a girl a drink and it’s not already an agreed to meeting where it’s perfectly reasonable for you to buy her a drink, don’t. You’re just wasting your money. Money that could be spent buying more drinks for yourself.

You see, that very girl you bought a drink for has already had several free drinks before you. In fact, the only money she has laid out is the dollar she put in the jutebox so she could hear Alanis Morissette sing about some bullshit women’s liberation garbage. So, in a way, that girl who you bought a drink for has done nothing for you except piss you off with her choice of music.

The only reason you bought her the drink in the first place is because you wanted to start conversation and seem established as you do so. You have money to waste and you’ve picked her to waste it on. You just want a way in to spark conversation. And you only want conversation because you want to sleep with her. And to be quite honest, even if it all works beautifuly you’re not going to enjoy it. You’ll be drunk, she’ll be drunk, and you’ll have that terrible moment in the morning where she will say something along the lines of ‘did we do anything’? And sometimes you’re going to say no, because by the time you got back to your house she passed out in your bed before anything could happen. And when you tell her this she’s going to say something or have a look of relief on her face which is just going to make you feel awful. Not even this drunk whore you brought home wants to sleep with you. She just enjoys your down comforter. Not your looks, not your personality, nothing. She’s too focused on trying to get her eyes to open all the way before she has to leave for work. And did I mention that she loves your down comforter?

So, you’ve shelled out money, had hope instilled in your heart, and for what? Nothing but a lighter wallet and sheets laced with perfume that makes you kind of nauseous.

I guess the moral of the story is simply to stick with the pros. Those ladies on the corner in overly revealing garments. At least with them you get what you paid for and maybe a little something extra too. I’m talking about mouth herpes.

Things In Hindsight Aren’t As Bad Because Humans Are Stupid

October 15, 2010

Forget 20-20. Things aren’t just clearer when you look back on them; they’re better.

I’ve discovered this by simply listening to people and also living life. Things just aren’t quite as bad as they were when you were going through that thing.

An easy example of this is when looking back on a relationship that ended badly. After enough time has passed and you look back on the matter it won’t seem as bad. Nothing has changed, but you start to remember the good times a lot more than the bad times. It doesn’t matter that someone you cared for deeply tore your heart to shreds. All you can think of is that time in a park where you listened to “your song” on loop and things were fresh and great. You don’t remember that time where you were sitting in the same park with the same song playing when you realized that things were ending and would never be the same.

It works the same when looking back on a job that you held that you hated. While you would never want to go back to that God awful place, you smile while thinking of how much you loathe the thought. It’s not the same as it was when you desperately tried to come up with an excuse to not go in, but didn’t feel any of your made up conditions would work. All you remember is how much you hated it and how it helped you realize what you didn’t want to be.

To be honest, I’m not sure why this is. If you were to go back to a situation that sucked it would still suck. That awful break up you experienced would still be awful. That terrible job you had would still be terrible. While you have changed, the situations in your past haven’t and even going back as the you you are now wouldn’t make them any better.

Call me simple, but a bad situation in your past is still a bad situation. It won’t become a good moment and we should probably stop trying to make it something it’s not.

Girls Just Want To Have Fun (my ‘absence theory’)

October 14, 2010

And on the surface there is nothing wrong with that. Who wouldn’t want to have fun? Unfortunately, these ladies are missing one key ingredient to make the whole process of having fun work: work.

It’s all a part of my absence theory. The theory is incredibly simple and because of it’s simplicty it has probably been thought of before and probably with bigger, smarter words than I will ever use in my life.

The theory in a nutshell is that all feelings or emotions people have are all related to the absence of a previous feeling or emotion. Take for instance the hit song by Cyndi Lauper, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Fun, as stated before, is a great thing to have. In fact, we as humans strive to have fun, but we only strive because we know that work kind of sucks. When you’re busy working your job you’re constantly looking at the clock wishing for it to move faster so you can go and be free and have a good time. The only reason that leaving your place of employment is such a joyous occasion is because you had to go to work. If there were no work your whole existence would be built around having fun. And we all know that even a good thing can get tiresome after awhile.

Let’s take a look at two other feelings that go hand in hand: love and heartbreak.

Pretty much every one has been in love at one point in their life. This is also the truth when it comes to heartbreak. The only reason we feel either of these things is because the other exists. If you never had feelings of love towards a person/thing, you wouldn’t know what heartbreak is, and if you never had the feeling of hurt that comes from a broken heart, you wouldn’t know what love is.

Think about it. Every single feeling you have comes from an opposite feeling that dictates how you gauge the other feeling. You don’t know love if you don’t know heartbreak/hate. You don’t know happiness if you don’t know sadness. You don’t know hunger unless you’ve been full. You don’t know being alone if you’ve never been in a crowd. You don’t know fun if you’ve never had to work.

So while Cyndi can talk about how girls just want to have fun, deep down she knows that fun is only fun when you’ve been busy working.

But hey, I think everyone kind of has a soft spot for a working girl.

Pig Lady Road and the Thrill of Disappointment

October 10, 2010

Being from the grandest state in the Union (meaning New Jersey) there is never a shortage of fun to be had. We have cities and forests and hills and beaches and a lady pig hybrid (kind of like South Park’s ManBearPig I guess but minus the bear and replacing the man with a lady).

On a Friday night, myself and three friends decided to hang out and just see where the night would take us. After playing some pool at one of my friends residence and enjoying a meal at a local eatery, we decided to set out on the open road. The destination? Pig Lady Road.

Pig Lady Road is a Weird New Jersey attraction in the township of Hillsborough. Apparently you’re supposed to drive down Roycefield Road (Pig Lady Road) and flash your lights and yell “pig lady” three times and the pig lady is supposed to appear and scare the ever living shit out of you.  

See, around the year 1900 a horribly disfigured woman was believed to live in Hillsborough on a secluded farm away from all of the other citizens of the town. She fled to this secluded land to be away from all of the taunting that she received due to her appearance. The story goes that while tending to her land one day two boys saw her and began teasing her. They vowed to return to her property later that night to place a dismembered pigs head on her steps. Well, when these two rascals went to deliver their ‘gift’ they vanished.

Years later after the town had some growth in population, the boys bones were found while constructing a new home.

This brings us to the other day. My friends and I went down this “haunted” road and did the steps to entice the lady who resembles a pig to appear and try to kill us, I guess. To my surprise nothing happened. This finding certainly left us all feeling pretty bad, but then I started thinking.

Maybe the pig lady was simply tired. It’s a rough world out there and looking like an ugly Miss Piggy must take it’s toll on a person. Perhaps she was tired of getting out of bed, putting on proper clothing and slippers, and running outside just to give some joy riders a story to tell.

In a way, she’s been doing us all a favor by honoring her frightening tale. Maybe this is the way that she is trying to atone for killing those two brats more than a century ago. Maybe she just wants to settle down with a good novel, a warm glass of milk, and a blanket and put her old life behind her. I think it’s a reasonable premise.

After all, even Pig Lady deserves a vacation every now and then.