19,898 words later
[ 5 Comments ] Posted on 12.20.04 in scb
It’s been exactly one year since I started to type my musings, and to this day the first entry into this blog is by far the funniest.
Tubular, dude
[ 2 Comments ] Posted on 12.16.04 in awesomeness, food
People give hot dogs a bad rap. I mean, they can’t help what they are; tubes of assorted meaty goodness are by their nature unable to alter their state of being.
Sure, they’re made of a bunch of different animals and wrapped into a tubular shape with some sort of edible and fleshy material. And some people may find fault in this scheme. Not I, however. I view the hot dog as one of God’s gifts to man: an unrelenting source of nourishment and disposal in one compact, easy to handle package of delight.
In thinking about it, the hot dog is actually an efficient form of disposal. What should we do with excess animal parts? If not pack them into commercially marketed tubes for public consumption, what other alternative is there? If anything, the Oscar Meyers and Hebrew Nationals of the world are saving the world from the sticky situation of not having anywhere to put its excess cow tongues.
Plus, hot dogs are really, really tasty. I feel bad for the two poor birds that were hit by the deli folk’s rock.
The last straw
[ 5 Comments ] Posted on 12.15.04 in advice, random
What classifies being a man? Is it chopping down trees with one swift swing of an axe? Or could it have something to do with killing a man with your bare hands? Or should it be mandated that in order for you to be considered a real man, you slap one of those bumper stickers on the back of your pickup telling the whole world of your prayer habits?
While all of these qualities are indeed conducive to existing as a man, the evolution into that state of being is wholly different.
Here’s a tip from the manliest of them all: Don’t use straws.
Yeah, I said it. Radical, is it not? Picture this: You sit down at a table, order your drink (which, at this point in my life cannot be legally alcoholic), and in a few minutes the servestress (or whomever) returns with a mug of frosty Coca Cola and a little plastic tube wrapped oh-so-sanitarily in paper. By tossing the straw to the side and swigging from the glass with your bare lips, you are exposing yourself to a world of potential infection from prior uses. But in essence by merely chugging from that glass you’ve said to that viral disease, “I’m not afraid of you, because a real man shouldn’t be.”
Because exams are over, this is all I have to think of.