The Neverending Barrage Insults My Intelligence

I fear headaches.  (Photo Credit: Ashley Rose)

I fear headaches. (Photo Credit: Ashley Rose)

You just need to watch more TV because normal people love TV and you’ll love it eventually if I just keep talking about it and talking about it and talking about it even though I know you don’t care and then you should go out to a bar or two or three or fifteen because the only legitimate way to meet women is at a bar (because only the good women like to drink and drink and drink and drink) or at a steroid enhanced sports event or at all of those places you claim not to enjoy but you will enjoy them because I’ll make sure you do because I know what’s best for you because I have the wisdom because I live in front of the television and I go to church every Sunday, which in turn is something you ought to do because it’s good for the soul and because everybody does it and because the Bible says so and because it’s fun and I don’t want you to experience eternal damnation with the prostitutes and the murderers and the thieves and the intellectuals and the Kardashians and glory be to Jesus and glory be to Jesus again because you really can’t give Him too much glory, especially after you’ve joined me at the latest action movie with lots of sex and severed limbs and more dead bodies than a mortician sees in a lifetime plus blood spurting and spraying and flowing from the bodies across the floor, amassing into a puddle until the red liquidy goodness overflows the room and surges as a river like the Blood of Christ, which is what you ought to be thinking of in that movie theater because He is everywhere and you must do everything according to Christian beliefs and popular culture because that’s the only way you can be likeable and there’s absolutely positively no contradiction whatsoever between religion and everything I want you to do for the rest of the week and if you listen to me you can be saved both in this life and in the next and my selling of television and movies DOES NOT sound like the way I sell church and I can’t understand why you you would accuse me of trying to “sell” either one because they’re both wonderful and I don’t have to sell them and it’s completely unfounded to say that I don’t know when to take no for an answer because I do listen and I do stop talking and I do take your preferences into consideration and I am not being judgmental and I want you to be yourself and I want you to decide for yourself and I don’t want to force you into anything you’ll hate and I want you to come here and watch season six of Survivor with me but first let me give you the complete rundown on the first five seasons and then we can go to church and you will have so much fun…

Newfound Medications Insult My Intelligence

Once upon a time I was suffering from dry skin.

I couldn't find a dry skin picture that wouldn't make you vomit.  Therefore, I chose this turkey with equally crispy skin.

I couldn’t find a dry skin picture that wouldn’t make you vomit. Therefore, I chose this turkey with equally crispy skin.  (Photo credit: Leslie Johnston)

So I went to the pharmacy and was greeted with this:

The pharmacy also provides easy access to nutritional essentials.

The pharmacy provides easy access to nutritional essentials.  (Photo credit: Susan)

Farther inside the pharmacy, I saw lots of nifty pills.

You could probably hide an Everlasting Gobstopper in there.

Who says bright colors are only for children?  (Photo credit: ParentingPatch)

And then I discovered what I had intended to find.

It was perfect.

When I left home, I couldn’t have imagined that I’d be so lucky.  Who would have guessed?

I found moisturizer in a container that had been newly redesigned:

It's takes an aesthetically superior bottle to tackle aesthetically inferior skin.

It takes an aesthetically superior bottle to tackle aesthetically inferior skin.

Vandalism Insults My Intelligence

Politicians have been desecrating public property for years and no one has stepped in to stop them.

You don’t believe me?

I walked out to my mailbox today.   Its sturdy black pole rises from the grass-covered dirt as its arched box reaches towards the street. With its single red ear, it reminds one of Vincent Van Gogh, though I doubt that he would have looked as spiffy wearing those metallic number stickers.

It waits to be fed.

(Photo credit for uncropped version: Joy Schoenberger)

Give me a break.  An anonymous blogger isn’t going to use his real mailbox.  Therefore, you get to see an icy receptacle and a wooden pole.  (Photo credit for uncropped version: Joy Schoenberger)

Even though my lovely specimen was purchased with private funds, the interior space has government (i.e. public) ownership.

And as I opened my own shiny piece of government property, I discovered vandalism.  I discovered grinning idiots on glossy brochures that try to scare voters into believing that other candidates would destroy the state, the country, and the sanctity of all “we” hold dear. Of course, there’s also the compulsory American flag waving proudly in all that hot air.

Those brochures had destroyed the monochromatic calm that had reigned inside my mailbox; neither they nor their distributors belong anywhere near public property.

Of course, the Capitol is public property too…

Complacency Insults My Intelligence

The park contains hidden treasures.  (Photo credit: Gabriel Saldana)

The park contains hidden treasures. (Photo credit: Gabriel Saldana)

Walking through the park, I found a message in a bottle lying in the grass.  How romantic!  Realizing that my heart was in for a profound experience, I uncrumpled the note and took a peek:

My premonitions were correct.  (Photo credit for the original uncropped version: Arpingstone)

My premonitions were correct. (Photo credit for the original uncropped version: Arpingstone)

This moved me to tears.  I had just eaten at my favorite BBQ restaurant and I rushed back to bring the grillmaster this horrifying news.  Maybe he can start boiling the ribs instead.

Drama Insults My Intelligence

Uh oh.  Looks like more drama.  (Photo credit: ThatsABigIf)

Uh oh. Looks like more drama. (Photo credit: ThatsABigIf)

I remember when it was fun to chat about other people’s lives.  Now, I’ve lost my tolerance for drama.  And so today I would like to direct a few random thoughts at various people who have no clue I’m the one writing this:

I do not want to be set up with your oldest friend.   I do not want to explain the reason again, mostly because it’s something I’ve been saying to deaf ears for years and years.  Your friend is not green eggs and ham.

If you leave your underwear on the couch when you’re expecting visitors, people will see it.  The time to freak out about that was before I arrived.

If I haven’t been able to get a word in edgewise within the past 15 minutes, please assume that I haven’t been paying attention to you for at least the past 12, or 10 if I’m having a good day.  If you’ve been narrating your progress on dishwashing over the phone, you’ll need to wake me from my nap when you’re done.

I do not care if your significant other is unsatisfied with your lovemaking abilities.  As far as I’m concerned, you’re both still virgins.  Those children are aberrations.  And that’s aberrations, not abominations or abhorrations.  Buy a dictionary.

Thank you for your outdated and/or painfully obvious job search advice.  Unlike you, I’ve been reading up on the topic and consulting experts on how to proceed.  As far as I can tell, there’s no reason other than your ego that I should listen to you.  If there is a reason, please provide it in a calm and rational manner.

Do not say “I can picture him hitting his wife/children” unless there is a legitimate reason to believe he is doing so.  And if there is a legitimate reason, I’m not the person you should be sharing that information with.  Look for the folks with a big shiny badge.  They’ll be nice, I promise.

Peace Insults My Intelligence

Suffering builds character.

While everyone was busy ducking and covering in the 1980’s and marveling over the guy who “did not have sexual relations with that woman” in the 1990’s, too much happiness and cheer were going on.  And then people get all nostalgic about all that “wonderful” 80’s music or 90’s music just because it was playing during all those important childhood moments.

Get over it.

Long-time followers of this blog already know how I feel about the American music industry.  They feed us domestic crap and then they import the smelliest crap (sans flies) from overseas.

And so we get Falco and Ace of Base and nothing truly worthwhile.

Do you know what’s worthwhile?

Pain.

Yes, pain.  And transforming those songs into a more explicit version of the pain that they have caused so many people.

So let’s go back to Falco and the dirty little hit job he did on Mozart.  How did that song make you feel?  Perhaps warm and fuzzy like these guys?

Those of us who always hated Falco’s music have become superior moral beings because we had to suffer through it.  Umbra Et Imago’s improved version would help the more mainstream idiots grow in character.

It’s amazing what those melodic low notes can do for a song and for a few blubbering fools.

And then there’s Ace of Base.  I will not bore you with any description because I’m sure that the band has bored you enough already.   However, I will provide you with a lovelier version of an Ace of Base song so that you might truly understand what it means to be an ace:

And once you become wise like me, you will find that the heavy discordant notes now sound normal and you’ll need something different to prevent yourself from becoming a mindless zombie follower of your new musical love.

This is why God invented duets.

Just find the best approximation of your favorite Brazilian death metal band and dummy up the most unlikely musical partner for them…

Now that’s a song that would have been worth losing your virginity to all those years ago.