Deep Thoughts

What is the worst possible job? Consider this thought. I have just returned from my travels of the entire world. I have met many a man who works quite an interesting job. I ask...

Why do you work that job sir?
Because my father did it.

See? That's not a good enough excuse for me. Sure, your father loved shoveling who-knows-what into a truck and selling it. I wouldn't! Stand up for yourself young man. Break free of the hereditary bondage! Sell mattresses if you want to!

So I've brought back a list for all of you. Things I have seen. Things I wish I hadn't. I've been to the tips of mountains, bottoms of valleys, insides of wigwams, and outsides of wonders. Here's my list...

-Sewage Scrubber: Problem with this job, your brush turns out to be a toothbrush. You don't get a mask. And you work in Chicago. Not a good combo.

-Easily Sunburnt Roofer in Phoenix: Too bad you're too white to build a tan. Stinks when both winter and summer turn out to be 100 degrees everyday. You'll be scraping boils all year...I suggest the rare SPF 75.

-Civilian in the Middle East: Ok, so it's not a occupation. But seriously, that would stink.

-Shark Tamer without arms: Why was the walkway slick around the shark tank? You tried to catch your fall...oh wait...missing appendages.

-Modern Medieval Man: What do you do? People just constantly point and stare at you. Soon you're living in the asylum; but hey, you still have that armor you bought on Ebay for 87.99. Winning bid at the last second!

Ok, I have gotten so frustrated finding the right "theme" for the blog. This one will do for a while. Think of you stepping into the psychiatrist's office and unloading everything. Again. Sit back, relax, laugh a little. Get away from reality for a bit.

And now, feel free to leave comments. Located right at the end of each post.

Ok, ok. Don't throw your computer against the wall. You saw the title, and now you've panicked. Yes. I am venturing into political satire. Whoa, whoa! Put down the hangman's noose. It's going to be ok. Hey! No guns while at this blog. Slowly...put down...the gun. Good. This is a peaceful blog. Our mascot is the dove. I just don't show it. At all. Anywhere on the site. Let's move on...

Bottom line. North Korea wants to nuke us. Mr. Obama or Mr. Black-Eyed Peace Man. I just thought of that. Hah! And no, that's not racist. I'm playing off of a band name. Sheesh. Anyway, the Black-Eyed Peas want peace. As do many, many Americans. So how SHOULD we respond to North Korea?

Simple Plan: Nuke them first.

This concludes North Korea Diplomacy 101. Next class, Making Eyeglasses with Teacher Kim Jong Il. Class is filling up, better sign up quickly.

tis the season ladies and gentlemen. tis father's day! and in honor of my father, i will be using no uppercase letters. dad, you have given me so much. i can only give back in such a small way. i know how much you hate uppercase letters. enjoy a day without looking at them. love ya.

I don't need to remind all of you. It's a very big week of the year. And yes, I know all of you put the dates in your calendar. So me reminding you is just wasting valuable time. Yes, my dear friends, it is US Open week in the wonderful US of A (America that is).

All you Tiger fans give me a Hey-O! All you Mickelson fans can get lost. Nobody likes a lefty. Literally, you can be racist when it comes to which hand is dominant. It's ok! Right is right, left is wrong. Been that way since the days of Adam & Eve. Don't worry. They were both right-handed. Cain was the problem. Cain wanted to be unique. He was the left-hander. He got a wife, maybe his sister. Passed on his lefthandedness. Now, to this day, we have the war of righties vs lefties.

But if you look back at history. Every single person who has done something worth saying has been a righty. Sorry lefties, you got nothing. Oh...and you too Mickelson.

I've always wondered what my name would have been if I lived back in Roman times. I've only come up with a few though. There's Proxemius Glutious. Descriptive, but I don't like it. Don't know why. Oh, there's Nero. For some odd reason, that doesn't roll off the tongue so well. And plus, it brings up horrible images. And I can't put my finger on why...

Then, of course, there's Tim. I don't really think it's Roman. But what do I know about Ancient Roman history? It could be. I like Tim. Now, if I ever find myself in Ancient Rome, I know what to be called. Whew, I was getting kinda nervous for a minute there...let's just check that one off the list. Next to go, if ever faced by an angry eskimo, should I slowly confront or run like a little girl.

I want to prepare you. Yes. Indeed, I must prepare you. Many of you will be facing death, as will I. Some though will be gifted to never die. I don't know how you found it, but you found it. You sneaky sheik! The fountain of Youth was actually hidden in Montgomery, Alabama. Who would have thought? Right beside the Town Hall. Wow.

So death. It's coming. I need to ask. What will you be buried in? It's an important question to think about. Soon, you'll be dead, and then you're family is left hanging. They'll say, "So did he want the urn or the casket? Or disintegration and thrown into the wind? I just wish he would have told us." You don't want to put that burden on your loved ones. Of course, who cares, you're dead. Stop swimming through clouds and think about your family. Put down that harp. Concentrate. Technically you're not even there...sheesh.

The urn is a good choice. Hopefully you don't have bad body odor. Because even fire can't get that smell out. You'll be stinking up the family's house until they die as well (too far?).

The casket is traditional. Everyone dies in this. Pretty boring. You want to die with flare, right? If you have to die in a casket, add some hydraulics, paint it neon green, and give it a great sound system with good woofers. Pimp my casket.

Disintegration is unique. Connect yourself back to the world. Burn yourself and fly. Your body that is. Watch as bits of your arms and eyeballs spread across the world. Onto people, onto cars, basically, you're everywhere. On everyone. Ralph Emerson style (wasted literary allusion).

Choose you this day which way you will decompose. And no, that's not Biblical. But it might be Koranic.

When you plop that cookie dough into your mouth, you know it's keeping you alive. It's literally your sweetened pacemaker. Pump by pump the dough sends sugar to the end of your body. Of course, we don't realize such a miracle is taking place. We just drop the ball in, sit back, and relax. Then the magic happens. The cookie dough actually comes alive.

The dough performs a sort of Russian dance all the way down your throat. It tickles. You don't see this obviously, but it has been scientifically proven. All you feel is a sudden rush, and then boom, added weight. Nothing out of the usual.

Famed tennis star Maria Sharapova eats cookie dough balls every morning. She recognizes the power of fat. So should you. Using simple deduction, I'll show you.

• Maria Sharapova eats cookie dough.
• Cookie dough is the lifeblood of champions.
• Maria Sharapova is a champion (and you can be too!)

Today's elections are boring. You have to agree with me. Usually, you have two candidates who have worked their whole lives to achieve approval from peers as a good leader of America. Then, they run. Physically yes. They do need to stay in shape. But also, stay with me, for the office of presidency. Next step, they need to lie to us, promising the unpromisible. "Yes! Of course you can have $331,000 free of charge. We'll just tax the rich! Yay Communism! And here's a lollipop."

Next, America votes. I think government just tells us that though. Actually what happens is that they just put two names in a hat and see who gets lucky! Wait a second, how did Jimmy Carter fall in that hat!?! Oh man, there goes 4 years. Last time we have the janitor reach in the hat...

So, basically that's how America's voting system works. People say it's very detailed. Whatever. I just simplified it into 2 paragraphs with a couple jokes intertwined. It's boring. It needs help. I think we should make the voting process more enjoyable. Here are my ideas.

1. Sometime during the election, the candidate must accidentally punch a woman voter. This way, SNL would have a lot more to play off of. And of course, everyone could get a good laugh even that woman.
2. Everyone who wants to shake the candidate's hand MUST get an opportunity. Even if the process takes 3 straight days off the candidate's calendar. A handshake tells us a lot more about a person. With a handshake, we know how to vote: Republican or Democrat.
3. Voting Ballot Update: add pictures, remind us who we are voting for. That way it's not a 50/50 guess again.
4. Randomly choose a ballot, say the voter's name on TV, and then say who they voted for. That way, we can all enjoy a good laugh at who they thought could be president. "That guy? oh man, you always give me a hearty good laugh."

I really don't like vandalism. And if I ever catch a vandal disgracing any of our memorial statues, I might go on a rampage. So much so, if I see a man spray-painting a frowny-face on President Lincoln. I will just have to speak up. Because, I do not tolerate that kind of action you see. Just call me old-fashioned. But I like President Lincoln how he is. And I think he does too.

President's don't need a blue mustache. Really. If someone even thinks toilet-papering the Washington Monument...well, first thing. Good luck. That thing is really tall, pointy, and looks nothing like our Founding Father. Well it is gray. George did have gray hair...

So all you vandals out there. Beware. I'm on a war against vandalism. And vandals. I like the word vandals, that why I used it. But seriously. Watch out. Yes, I may be all the way in sunny SC. But I'm only a 2 hour flight away. After I book it. And make sure there are seats...and I have to pack...And I know you won't move for at least that long. You'll be scared stiff. Yeah. Stiffly scared. I'm watching...well, the news. To see if anything happens. But yeah...I'm watching.

I'm thinking about growing an afro. By thinking, I'm not really thinking. I saw a picture, and a thought jumped in my mind. That thought has grown into a blog post, which in turn has grown into me considering the afro. I want to present many benefits of the afro just in case you might want to try it out.

1. The afro is an ergonomically choice of comfort (Stop trying to figure out the word, just go to dictionary.com, admit it, you don't know what it is).
2. Bada boom. The afro attracts the opposite gender (this applies to females attracting males, go get em ladies).
3. The afro is not a pastime (JLo as well as Sean Connery have been caught sporting the aphro). I need to be Sean Connery.
   
4. Afros symbolize security and instability, excuse me, stability. I could have just backspaced, but I'm a little tired.