Wednesday, November 9, 2011

The adventures of Bing

Today while I was avoiding work and surfing a discussion board on the internet, a man posted multiple off the wall topic discussions.  As I do not have permission to use his name, he will be referred to from now on as "Bing".  While I give Bing credit for both his enthusiasm as well as his creativity, his English is a little...off.  Each time I saw one of his topics arise,  I stopped myself from being myself (a dickhead), and bit my tongue.  Eventually, it built up inside of me and I slipped

His topic was: "What is evil world? And how many other worlds are there? And how did you know?" [sic]

The obvious, and only true answer:

There are approximately forty-two other planets in the universe, twelve of which contain life-forms. One of these planets, specifically, contains such a variety of life - it is truly amazing. The creatures range from small mole likes creatures that travel in packs of three, to large dragon type brutes that fly the open skies. During my time on this specific planet, I made friends with a small monster that resembled an earthling mouse. We didn't get along at first, but we came to be best friends. During our time together we teamed up to tame other forms of wild beasts, as well as fended off the evil gangs that controlled the planet.

I know all of this, because Pikachu is my best friend, and I just had to catch them all.


While I received replies of "lulz", there was one man right in center who's broken English was still able to have been interpreted as slightly less than tickled.  While I entered this information in a reply to his question as a means of answering it with a credible source, Bing sought to find the subliminal message in it, and confronted me.

After twenty minutes of back and forth messaging, Bing finally got his point across.  From what I gathered, Bing only appreciated serious answers, as the questions he asked were very serious.  I apologized to Bing, and expressed my sincerity in attempting to fine tune my future responses in such matters.

Ten minutes go by, and oh look.. Bing has started a new discussion.  Let's see if this is a little more...nope...for fuck's sake.


"Somethings that you wouldn't do.  Say it out now." [sic]

Now it was never my goal to piss Bing off, but apparently it is a god-given ability of mine.  All I wanted was to fit in, and answer his logical queries with responses at, or close to the same level of logic.  Makes sense, right?  My reply:

I would never eat green eggs and ham. I'm a pretty big fan of eggs, and I absolutely love ham...but that little Sam I am bimbo will not convince me that 'going green' applies to my beloved breakfast. Go away Sam I am! Go away!

Within minutes, an unwarranted message arrives.  Mr. Bing sends me a final message for the evening, wishing me a good evening, as well as offering incentives for me to be involved in future posts! ...or at least that's what I made out of  "I hope you are happy with tonight.  Only stupid one and coward one would"

Sunday, November 6, 2011

How are you, stranger?

How has it become an established form of showing one's geniality, by asking "hey, how are you?"...and then walking away before a response is heard?  Or better yet, asking this to a complete stranger, when both parties involved know damn well that the other does not give a single shit.  I understand it is a greeting or acknowledgement of association...but why? 

Each time I am asked one of these counterfeit greetings, it makes me want to microwave a small puppy.  Seeing as this reaction would be severely frowned upon, and hardly worth the pleasure it would bring to me, I instead react in a more socially accepted way.  Here's an example:

The other night, I was standing in line at the supermarket with only a bottle of Exedrin in my hand.  As any decent being with at least half of a functioning brain may have guessed - I had a splitting headache.  Not the dipshit in front of me me though.  He turns around to look at a magazine, see's me standing there, and says "how ya doin?".  My first reaction is of course the mental visualization of myself pushing the "reheat" button on my microwave, as three minutes and fifteen seconds should suffice as enough time to explode a small puppy.  My second reaction is to tell the gentleman that I am doing great, and that I always make trips to the store in the middle of the night to buy pain medication, as it is a hobby of mine.  But then I snap into reality, and realize that this man is clearly interested in my well-being, as he has asked how I am doing.  So I reply "I'm doing okay.  I went to the doctor today and found out that I have an iron deficiency".  He looked at me puzzled, and then turned back around.

By doing this, if I am able to make just one person stop and think "damn, maybe I shouldn't ask how people are", I will have done my job.  Also, small dogs around the world appreciate it.

Why can't things be left as simple as they should be, with a simple "hello", or even better, a smile or nod of the head?  By using one of these "simple" greetings, the best of both worlds are achieved.  From pretentious assholes to benevolent losers, all can be polite without putting up the bullshit facade that they (or you) actually care.  It's a beautiful concept that humanity is too stupid and unwilling to realize.  Unfortunately, humanity is so fucking lazy nowadays, we will more than likely be stuck with the process of acting and asking/answering questions we don't care about for the rest of time.  "Hey, how are you?  Please don't answer, as I do not care"   "I'm doing well, I also do not care how you are, but I'll ask anyways"

Maybe a future controlled by Skynet and their emotionless robots wouldn't be such a bad idea.  In the world of obligatory greetings, less is more.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Feminists Are Funny!

This past Saturday, my girlfriend surprised me with a life-long dream come true.  All of my life I have wanted to attend an event in which I neither fit the target audience in any form, nor did I actively promote the cause of said event.  I am happy to report that I was able to travel seventy miles on a Saturday night to attend a feminist movement.  Fuck.

 Alright, I can't put the blame on my girlfriend.  It was an easy extra-credit assignment for one of her classes, and she asked me to go with her.  Unfortunately, I had no idea that I had just signed up to be filed into an auditorium of about 200 people.  200 people being: 100 women, 10 men, and 90 "gals" that put both my buzz-cut and penis size to shame.  I felt like a black man that had accidentally walked into a Ku Klux Klan meeting, without a hood on.

On the topic of groups with ridiculous identity-hiding costumes - enter the Guerrilla Girls.



Now before I continue, I'd like to make it very clear that I fully support equal rights for women, as it makes me sound like a genuine person, and just may pardon a portion of my offensive behavior.

The Guerrilla Girls are, in a nutshell, a group of feminists that like to "prove that feminists are funny".  They each wear yellow jumpsuits, a gorilla mask, and perform under the names of dead women artists. Yes, it is as bizarre as it sounds.

During this presentation, and sequential longest hour of my life, I stared wide-eyed into the masks of three feminists as they threw bananas into the crowd, performed a rendition of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" commuted to tell fat people that it is okay to eat like pigs, and instructed the audience to mad lib a song titled "We're not afraid of these words" (or something close to that), shouting only the words: LESBIAN, VAGINA, and FEMINIST.

Now there's two chemicals here:  feminism, and a parody of feminism.  It's not uncommon to find either of these in the world...but all together formed as one stance?  That just doesn't work.   

Example - A few years back, PETA gathered as many Hollywood faces as it could and launched a campaign against Kentucky Fried Chicken, mainly due to the fact that the chickens they raised were (believed to have been) handled violently, and killed in tortuously inhumane ways.  Seeing as this was a very serious matter to PETA, and that they wanted to be taken very seriously...there's one thing that was completely left out of the game plan - making it seem humorous.  This is the kind of shit that PETA lives for, what motive would there be to mock their own beliefs, and make themselves look like even bigger ass-hats than they already are?  Even PETA knows not to do something that moronic...and they're crazy enough to turn down a bucket of southern fried crispy chicken with a side of buttery biscuits!

Maybe the Guerilla Girls could use a lesson in Chemistry.  When you take a weak solute (their ability to push feminism as a serious subject), and add in a powerful solvent (the levity of the presentation), you get a solution more heavily influenced by the solvent in the reaction.

I would be lying if I said I was not entertained, as I spent a majority of the performance holding back (mostly inappropriate) laughter...but holy shit.  If there's ever been an example of how not to promote something you strongly believe in, this would take the banana bread cake.  -RG

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Halloween makes the Devil happy!

Today at work, I was approached by one of my employees - an older woman in her late fifty's.  She explained to me in deepest sincerity that the Halloween costume contest we were holding had offended her, and made the workplace "uncomfortable".  After a horribly inaccurate two minute lecture on a section of the bible that explained the final confrontation between Jesus and Satan as an angel, she made her feeble attempt of producing a point to this drawn out waste of my two-minutes - Halloween is a celebration of  the Devil.

The first thing that came to my mind was to immediately call this old hag out.  I wanted so badly to make it clear to her that she was not fooling anyone with the crosses, pictures of Jesus, and bible scriptures she has posted in her booth, as the ever repopulating cold-sores on her upper-lip announced to the world her true activities.  But then I thought for a second, and as I always strive to do before making rash decisions... I put myself into her raggedy, granny Velcro shoes.

I start to make a mental list of what makes Halloween so evil, and it all begins to make sense.  By God, all of these years I've let the Devil slip into my life completely unknowing of his doings.  Who else would thrive from the energy of families as they spend time together?  Who else would squirm with joy, just by knowing that millions of people are giving away treats for free?  What kind of monster promotes children dressing up in costumes that fulfill their dreams of being their favorite TV-show character?  Obviously the Devil.

I snapped back into reality.  I looked the kind old woman in the eye, and told her in the nicest way possible to go suck another dick. - RG