Monday, March 30, 2009

The Reader

I have discovered the Holy Grail! Okay, well, not like the actual cup of Christ with life saving capabilities and all, but more like the next best thing. For those of us that like to read or watch movies anyway. And I didn't exactly discover it really, my sister Cris more or less sat me in front of her computer and showed me the awesome amazingness that is I'm sure for all of you reading this, because we're related, is probably old news. However, for the remote possibility that someone I'm not related to should happen upon this blog and doesn't know about this gem of euphoric reading fantasticness (it's a word a swear), I shall give you the 411 as they say. (I'm not sure who says this shit anymore, but it seemed fitting.)

So, this website, as I was saying, is fantastical awesomeness. It allows you to swap Books, CD's, DVD's, video games, and babies (I had a cute little African baby I wanted, but Madonna beat me to it). When you are finished with books or movies you don't want anymore, you can put them in a queue as stuff to be traded, in exchange for things you want. Both your wish list, and tradeables can be comprised of all the aforementioned things, except for babies (but I think stem cells are okay). The website, powered by magic and scientifically enhanced hummingbirds, matches and pairs you up with other random people who have books you want, and vice-versa. All you need to do, is either accept or decline offers from these gate keepers of stupendousness, that have nothing better else to do than hoard all the shit you've ever wanted. Sometimes, you can be involved in a 3 or 4 person trade . . . . like an orgy! See? I told you it was awesome.

Friday, March 27, 2009

What Women Want

I often think that I possess extraordinary knowledge when it comes to women. After all, I have five sisters who made it their personal endeavor to "groom" me into a man that had all of the characteristics they deemed necessary for the perfect gentleman. Having been exposed to this kind of torture environment during my impressionable years has also provided me with invaluable insight into the female psyche. Harboring this knowledge has granted me countless advantages and there is very little that a woman can do that will leave me entirely perplexed. One of those things, however, I witness everyday, and it's beginning to drive me to the point where I'm experiencing overwhelming desires to extract my eyeballs with rusty utensils.

Why do women who are driving with the windows down, find it necessary to fluff, fiddle, manipulate, and incessantly adjust their hair when as soon as they accelerate, its only going to return into disheveled mess again anyway? Makes no sense. Wear a hat, tie it up, or roll your freakn' windows up. I happened to be in a little bit of traffic the other day, and I had the comical fortune of being behind the same lady through 4 traffic lights and a good stretch of highway. Never failed, at every single stop their was excessive primping and poking of bangs. You would have thought she was preparing a poodle for Best In Show.

I've seen some retarded acts of humanity in my day, (many of them my own) and even though it shouldn't boggle my mind as much as it does, I find it absolutely incomprehensible that so many of these things I see while driving. For instance, reading. Why people think this is any smarter than swimming amongst sharks with a bludgeoned sea lion around their neck, I will never know. And I'm not talking about the casual glance at printed directions either, I mean the full on I didn't finish reading this chapter last night for my presentation, or the I will sacrifice my life to find out how this article on cross-pollination of orchids ends. Generally, I'm all about encouraging a strong reading regiment. Personally, I don't think people do enough of it. But seriously, put down the literature while you drive. I doubt anyone is reading anything on the highway that's worth dying for.

Which leads me to my next observation of feet in the windshield. I've witnessed many accidents during my motor vehicle conducting career, and let me tell you, people that like to stick their feet out the window or think it's cute to display them on the dashboard, are playing with fire. It's one thing to survive a horrible accident. It's quite another for paramedics to have to search for your foot to reattach it, or for doctors to surgically remove your kneecaps from your face. Not so cute anymore is it? Well, if you're going to continue to defy the traffic gods, tempt fate, and subject me to the sight of your crusty-ass feet, for heaven's sake, (and mine) at least put some damn lotion on.