That Time of Year

Originally posted November 1, 2006

It’s that time again. Election time.

It just so happens that every election, the constant stream of political commentary makes me think that I have a valuable opinion.

On reviewing several of the issues, I have discovered that I am a genius, and can fix all of our problems. So here we go.

Gay Marriage

You can’t force morality. People should have equal rights regardless of what goes in where. I think we’re all at least a little bit gay. I know not to wear pastels with earth tones, and I’m okay with that. The only thing most people can’t decide on is what to call it. I say meet halfway and call it “gay-riage”.

The War In Iraq

Very simple. Send Bush to actually fight in Iraq. This is a no-lose situation. No matter how much you dislike his policies, it’s hard to disagree with a man who’s fighting in his own war. If he gets shot, the Republicans have a martyr and the Democrats have a party.

The Fact That Jessica Simpson Is Making Movies

Make her listen to her own music until her brain melts.

Gas Prices

The reason oil is so expensive it that there’s only so much of it. Luckily, there happens to be another resource we have quite a lot of. It’s called water. Once Bush blows himself up in Iraq, we can use his war budget to switch to Hydrogen instead of gas.

This way we can be friends with the Middle East and eliminate global warming.

Global Warming

See above.

North Korea

Don’t nuke them. For the love of God, don’t nuke them.

I say send Wal-Mart in and let them take over. If that doesn’t cut it, send McDonald’s in as reinforcement. Before long, Kim Jon Il will die of a McHeart Attack, and the rest of the population will be too busy buying two boxes of Cheese-It’s and getting one free to care.

So that’s the plan. Next on the list: how to attempt world domination without killing any Jews.

Over and out.

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March 13, 2008 – 6:52 pm
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Political Views

Originally Posted April 22, 2006

Okay, so lately I’ve been getting a lot of random questions about where I stand politically. That’s fine with me, but sometimes it’s hard for me to label where I actually stand, especially if the other person is using big words.

“Hey Josh, given the present state of the post-liberalized Democratic presidential platform, do you think the coming caucus will produce a candidate worthy of an independent union vote?”

“I think racism is bad.”

I took the “World’s Smallest Political Quiz” and here’s what I got. If you want to take it, you can find it here. You should probably know that it’s sponsored by Advocates for Self-Government, so it’s probably a little skewed to the Libertarian side.

Political Spectrum

I really don’t know whether this is telling me who I should vote for or what baseball position I should play, but it seemed pretty interesting. Now when people ask me political questions, I can pull out this picture and point at a red dot. And I will say, “This red dot is me” and they will stare in awe. And I will say, “I am between second base and the pitcher’s mound. I might even be a really confused short stop. Anyway, this means that I think racism is bad.”

It’s nice to know where you stand.

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March 13, 2008 – 6:42 pm
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Tanning

Originally posted April 6, 2006

So a few days ago some people that were going tanning said to me, “Hey, we’re going tanning.” So I thought to myself, “Why not?”, and I went tanning. This was a new experience for me. To be honest, I felt kind of like a pop-tart.

Laying still for any period of time is not something I’m very good at. It forced me to think about things like “Why am I voluntarily giving myself skin cancer?” and “Are there any female Oompa-Loompas?” and “How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop?” These are obviously really important thoughts, but luckily I didn’t have too much time to myself. Plus, I’m pretty sure Oompa-Loompas wouldn’t do each other’s hair like that if there were any girls around.

The only thing that was kind of unsettling was that when my time ran out, the tanning bed made the exact same beeping noise as my microwave does when the popcorn is done. But over all it was good experience, even though, considering how pale I am, it didn’t have a huge effect. I kind of went from white to eggshell. Maybe eventually I’ll hit beige. The problem is, I went again today, and I don’t really know why.

All I know is next time I’m making s’mores.

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March 13, 2008 – 6:37 pm
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Some Kind of Balance

Originally posted on April 4, 2006

After a week-long self-esteem battle with the bathroom mirror, I have decided that I am, in fact, pretty.

I think the trick is to focus more on what isn’t screwed up instead of what’s not as good as it could be. Maybe my teeth aren’t as white as I’d like, but I have legs, and to me, that’s a plus. No one not tripping on acid would compare me to Brad Pitt, but at the same time, I’ve never been compared to Roseanne Arnold. I think if I worked out a bit, I could pass as a semi-good-looking guy.

Here’s the thing. Call me shallow, but for a guy, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to get in shape to look better. I know that we shouldn’t get our confidence from the physical and temporary, but I can’t help but think that self-esteem and being crane lifted from your house to McDonald’s might not exactly go hand in hand. I know that personality is really important, but I’d also like know that the girl I’m with is physically attracted to me. How romantic is knowing that you were just a charity case?

“Hey honey, you remember the first time you saw me?”

“Sure dear, I thought you were disgusting, but then I got to know you, and now I barely even think about how you look. You know what, let’s not make out – you just go sit in that corner and have a nice personality.”

Not cool. Guys are not like girls. Guys would like to be treated like meat once in a while. To be fair, it is true that guys are way more visual than girls. But I think girls worry about this way too much. The better the personality, the better the girl looks, and visa versa. Do you hear guys talking about how hot Christina Aguilera is anymore? No, because she’s a skankwhore. Just because guys are visual doesn’t mean they’re completely shallow. All in all, you just have to have a nice balance.

But now I know some of you are thinking, “Josh, you don’t have looks or personality, what are you going to do?” A valid question. I’m hoping for either dumb luck or someone really desperate for citizenship.

Single and Canadian? Leave me a note.

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March 13, 2008 – 6:35 pm
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Voter's Remorse

Originally posted on March 26, 2006

So confession time. I voted for George W. Bush. This really isn’t surprising, I’ve done worse. I’m considering voting for Hillary Clinton in 2008 based solely on the fact that I would love to see Bill Clinton in an apron pushing a vacuum down the white house hallways.

But at the same time, I can’t help but feel a little responsible for the whole, you know . . . still being in Iraq, and the whole, you know . . . rest of the known world hating us. The thing is, I didn’t vote for Bush because I wanted war in Iraq or anywhere else. I thought to myself, “Hey, large-scale weapons are getting pretty effective these days. We’ll go in, get rid of a dictator, and get out.” Didn’t happen.

But I’d rather not turn this into a political rant blog. All I’m saying is, isn’t there some other way to settle this without killing each other? Can’t we just hurl insults back and forth and not actually do anything, like the French? Or maybe this: five guys from Israel, five guys from Palestine, give them all wiffle bats, put them in a room, see who comes out on top. Maybe televise it. I figure, send the ambassadors, do all the negotiations you can, and if they still won’t agree on a compromise, laser tag for land rights.

Who would win in a dodgeball match – the CIA or Al Qaeda? I don’t know, but I’d like to find out.

Then we could take the 250 billion dollars we saved by buying wiffle bats instead of missiles and use it on, just a thought, maybe the AIDS crisis – or maybe feed Cambodia for a decade or so.

But to be fair, I guess I can’t say that I regret voting for Bush all that much. Let’s be honest folks, Kerry was just creepy. And Bush already gets enough crap from the free world to make up for a lot of whatever mistakes he’s made.

Search “failure” on Google and this is the first result you get.

“Failure” Google Search Result

And let’s not ignore that second result either. Over and out.

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March 13, 2008 – 6:32 pm
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A Phone Call

Originally posted March 12, 2006

So today my grandmother called me. She asked how I was doing. I said that I was doing very well. She asked about spring break. I told her it was going very well. I asked how she was doing. She told me that one of her friends had just gotten hit by a snow plow.

This is why I prefer to write my grandmother letters.

Every time my grandmother calls me, I find out that someone I don’t know has died. At this point, I’m starting to feel guilty. It always creates this awkward pause that’s really hard to fill – like I need to have my own tragic counter-story so my grandmother and I can relate.

“Hey Josh, just wanted to call and tell you that your great-great uncle Melvin just died of Pancreatic Cancersyphilaids of the pancreas.”

“Oh yeah? Well, my cat Mittens just hung himself from the top floor of his stylish Kitty-Condo. We’re scattering his ashes to the four winds tonight.”

And honestly, after somebody tells you that somebody else just died, where do you take the conversation from there? Do you dare act as if great-uncle Melvin’s death just reminded you of something funny that happened to you at Wal-Mart yesterday? I think not. Obituaries are not good conversational transitions.

So I guess at this point, all I can really do is hope that my grandma is doing okay, because I care about her very much, and hope that her friends will be more careful in the future when snowblowing their driveways.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get Mittens his Prozac.

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March 13, 2008 – 6:25 pm
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Wandering About

Originally posted March 6, 2006

So yesterday I was wandering around Springfield for no particular reason, just to avoid sitting around. How I got to that point isn’t very interesting, but it involves a very boring church meeting that sounded like it had a lot of disgruntled old people in it. So here I am, walking around a strip mall, looking homeless. I was going to go to the Dollar Store, but then I realized that I only had 78 cents to my name. It’s a very humbling experience not being able to afford the Dollar Store. So I just acted like I was really too good for the Dollar Store, and I eventually found myself in front of the Chuck E. Cheese right across the street. I really wanted to go in, but I decided that the management might not look kindly upon a random college kid walking in from the street with the cash equivalent of three tokens, so I just kind of looked in the window.

All I could really see was the front counter, some tables, some arcade games, and a ski ball machine. Then I started getting angry because I was having flashbacks to my childhood and the many quarters wasted on the ski ball machines. They make it seem so easy, but I’m convinced that ski balls cannot physically fit into that middle hole. It’s not possible. So I’m thinking about this, and it’s at this point I realize that staring into a Chuck E. Cheese window with an angry look on your face is a really good way to scare small children.

So now I’m pretty sure some poor six-year-old playing Whack-A-Mole is going to have the creepy pasty kid staring in the Chuck E. Cheese window as the subject of a reoccurring nightmare.

But I guess I shouldn’t be too worried. I mean, if a six-foot rat dressed in lame 80’s-style clothing doesn’t scare your preschooler, I don’t know what will.

And so that was that. There’s more where that came from, but my lawyer says I shouldn’t talk about it. Enough said.

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March 13, 2008 – 6:22 pm
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Monks and Music

Originally posted February 25, 2006

The other day me and my roommate proved once and for all that we are musical geniuses when we played Gregorian Monk Chants on one computer and Led Zeppelin on the other computer simultaneously. The result was something like mixing and Kool-Aid and vodka, except in music form. If you haven’t heard The Immigrant song overlayed with Latin harmony, you have not yet lived. Houses of the Holy, indeed. I have decided that being a monk would suck. If you’re going to dress like a Jedi, you should have the powers to go with it. The whole isolation thing would also suck. I mean, come on, even Jesus had his Jew crew. Something tells me that not talking, not having friends, not eating, and living in the middle of nowhere was probably not what God had in mind. At that point, even Mother Teresa is going “For the love of God, chill out.”

Not to mention the whole no sex ever problem. This implies that God made some kind of mistake.

God: “Wait a minute – you mean when that one does that to the other one, you end up with more of them? Awwwww, crap. Please tell me that at least they won’t enjoy it.”

I don’t think so. And that’s all I have to say about that.

Next music project, Ludacris meets George Gershwin.

“Rhapsody In Blue, muthaf**ka.”

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March 13, 2008 – 6:20 pm
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Multi-Tasking

Originally posted on January 20, 2006

Today I made some interesting discoveries. First of all, if you use too much fabric softener when you wash your boxers, you’ll walk around like an ice skater on cement. Secondly, in case of an emergency, a shower stall can double as a urinal.

And please, don’t act like you’re grossed out by that, because we’ve all done it. And to be honest, if you think about it, a sink is just a urinal that’s out of range. I personally see no problem with brushing your teeth, using mouthwash, or washing dishes in the shower. Multi-tasking, my friend, multi-tasking.

While we’re on the showering subject, I’d like to ask something. What is the purpose of conditioner? I looked on the bottle and it said “Manages and Fortifies”. Apparently my head needs administrative help or is a military zone. If you’ve even seen a picture of me, you know that my hair has been unruly at best ever since my mom stopped combing it for me. (Sophomore year of High School) I shudder to think what might happen if it were not for the hair-management provided by this five dollar bottle of goo. Perhaps it would braid itself.

And – I just realized that just spent a paragraph talking about my hair. Sorry. This is probably why it takes me a half an hour to decide between Cool Ranch Doritos or the original Nacho Cheesier.

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March 13, 2008 – 6:14 pm
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Potential Revolt

Originally posted on January 17, 2006

I am not a vegetarian. I will probably never be a vegetarian. This is because animals taste good. Not all animals, just enough to make me try most of them. There’s no way this is a bad thing, because the animals don’t mind. Just to make sure, let’s ask a cow. “Hey Mr. Cow, do you mind if I kill you and fry your flesh into circles and then sell it to people under the guise of a hearty yet affordable meal?”

(silence)

“And what if we do this billions of times, dooming most of your species to a disgusting and brutal death?”

(silence)

“And if we use a smiling clown as a mascot?”

(silence)

So there we have it. No problem at all.

Of course, if the cows do revolt, we’re all pretty screwed. It’s more than possible that they’re allowing themselves to be killed by the truckload because they know that their cholesterol-laden bodies are killing us faster than anything else.

And if a cow was lying to you, you’d have no way of knowing. They have no facial expressions. You could think this cow was your best friend, and all along it could be planning to jump you in a dark alley as soon as you let your guard down. Have you ever tried to punch a cow out? I thought not.

You might think I’m crazy, but next time you visit a dairy farm, as I’m sure you often do, you’ll have to ask yourself, “Do I really trust these cows?” And if the answer is no, you’ll be at a drive-through within an hour, vegetarian or not.*

* This post is sponsored in part by McDonald’s Corporation (R), all rights reserved.

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March 13, 2008 – 6:10 pm
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