What with the latest Star Wars installment on the way, I've been thinking some about what it would feel like to be Princess Leah. Yeah, I think you heard me. I'd like to explore my feminine side, and I don't see why that's such a threat to everyone. Ok, kidding. That probably turned you on, and I don't blame you. But I've actually been fantasizing more about delivering an intergalactic pre-battle call-to-arms. I'm talking a little bit about leading some rebels against Imperial forces, do you know what I'm saying? You call that weird, I call it standing tall in the face of great evil. Two different ways to describe one situation. And guess if the Council of Elders would appreciate you referring to the Alliance as "weird". Maybe if a light saber through your face means they would appreciate it, I guess there's your answer.

Anyway, check out my speech, this is what I have so far:

Good citizens of Ridelan 7: The quasar energy shields have been destroyed by the Equestrian warriors of Zanax-9, leaving our weapons systems, medical facilities, and TJ Max retail stores vulnerable to attack*. The Equestrian star fleet has regrouped and is less than one thousand spanktrometers away. I recommend just firing indiscriminately into space, as it's nearly impossible to tell what's happening in these frantic battles anyway. All I ever see are green and red lights flashing around. I can assure you, I won't be doing anything more than closing my eyes and shooting at random intervals. If I happen to phaser you in the back, that's my bad. Now let's go out there and not succumb to the Dark Side! [warriors cheer, strike battle staffs against ground in rhythmic manner. Ridellian virgins offer up selves]

Then I would close with a visually stunning powerpoint presentation. Here's one of the slides I've already prepared, which shows an example of a 5th generation Equestrian Quadfighter:


Equestrian QuadFighter 5

3 words: Untouchable Photoshop skills. And if you're wondering how I'm that good, it's called no understanding of how computers work, and a total absence of artistic pride. Aside from me ruling at photoshop, this speech I've been practicing got me thinking about a couple other things. Namely, why is it still entertaining to ridicule hardcore Star Wars fans? Please don't misunderstand me--I have engaged, or do currently engage, in several so-called nerdy endeavors myself. I've been known to collect comic books, and I spent a generous, personality-stunting portion of highschool thinking of, playing, and reading strategy books about, Street Fighter II.

However, my point is that the Star Wars infatuation is one of the most unhealthy hobbies ever in American culture, and I have facts at the ready to support this assertion.

1. Star Wars movies can be a fun diversion.
2. Buying an actual plane ticket in order to congregate with other socially-doomed Star Wars nerds is not a diversion. That's giving up on life. If the best vacation you can think of is a star wars convention, it's already over for you.

But you heard it here first: If the current rate of social and artistic erosion in this country is any indication, it will soon be cool to know everything there is to know about Star Wars. It's gonna be quirky-hip to go to the conventions and dress up like a complete tool. Please let me be dead when that time comes. Or at least let me go as Leah.

Hey, I'm still kidding, geez!


*Some nerds in the audience will undoubtedly want to point out that Ridelan 7 is part of the Crapadoro star system, and thus unreachable by Zanax-9 inhabitants. Or worse yet, that there are no TJ Maxes on Ridelan 7. I know that. But there should be, you can find some really solid bargains at that place.

A year or so ago, before Georgia Tech played Connecticut for the NCAA basketball championship, I came across a photograph of the two coaches sharing a laugh. If you look in the background, you will see what is perhaps the most unflattering photograph ever taken of a human being since the invention of eyesight:


Ha ha! You think *I'm* homely? Look behind us!


Right, so that's either a woman with red hair, or a ferret with fetal alcohol syndrome. Or maybe a ferret with fetal alcohol syndrome and then someone poured hydrochloric acid on its chin. No no wait: An anorexic ferret, fetal alcohol syndrome, hydrochloric acid, and then someone stabbed half his face off with a car key.

Ok, I guess that's all I've got for the descriptions. I spent most of my time trying to find that picture again. Also, I had to write this FAQ, which should come in handy for any remaining questions you might have about today's topic. Let's read it.

1. Why would you save a picture like that for a whole year?

Hel-loh...cool blog post going on here. I think the payoff is pretty obvious.

2. After more than a week without posting anything, it seems like the next post would be at least mildly humorous--why is this not the case?

It's not that simple. Some things are less simple than what meets the eye. Some things are even more simple than meets the eye. And then we have blogs, which are the total opposite. Blogs are complex. The internet is complex. In-TRA-nets can be simple, but that's not the point. Yet, I think we both know what the point IS, you backstabbing jackal.

3. Isn't disparaging another's physical appearance for the sake of humor a little shallow? Do you just have no imagination, or what?

Well, that's two questions, let's take them one at a time. Implicit in your first question is an admission that this post is kind of funny, so you've made a tactical error right from the start--question disqualified. 2nd question: Nice try. If you divided the amount of imagination I have by 50 billion, then I would still have twice as much as the average person, which has less than 1 billion. ??

4. This post really sucks, can you comment on that?

Work's been really busy lately. Truthfully, I wrote something so hilarious you could sell it for money, but I decided to delete it, because it was almost too clever.

5. Yeah, that's a lie. This thing's terrible.

That's not really a question, c'mon.

6. Sorry. It's pretty bad, though.

Ok, I get it!

7. Do you think you'll ever post anything funny again, or is this pretty much the level we should expect from now on?

This is the pinnacle of human achievment in comedy. Embrace it. Plus, I heard of one site where the guy posts pictures of his bowel movements. NOW whose blog is better? Settle down.

8. I heard you were a little insecure about the way your toes curl into freakish little hooks at the end. Also, I understand that a girl you were dating jokingly referred to your peds as "claw feet". Is that accurate?

I think we're getting a little off-topic here, but yes, what you say is true. I'm going to start wearing Dr. Scholl's inserts, so I'm addressing the problem. It's not a problem, it's taken care of. It's being addressed.

9. Good. Because your feet look like human talons. It's disgusting.

Yes.

Leaders of Tomorrow? More Like Nerds of Tomorrow

I read yesterday that teens now are having fewer babies, committing less crime, and doing fewer drugs than teens of the 70's. What's up, modern-day teens?! You're comfortable with the 70's teens being more physically attractive, tougher, and open-minded than you? I'm at something of a loss here. I'm a fairly quick study, but I'll admit that even I'm having trouble with this one. Maybe the goal of today's teen is to get a PhD in how to be a nerd, I don't know. Is there a special medal you get now for excelling in academics? I must've missed the memo.

Let me put it simply, in a way that even sexually repulsive teens with no criminal record can understand: Preparing for the future is fine, but not if it means not experimenting with heroin. Abstaining from controlled substances might seem sensible, but I'm going to let you teens in on a little secret--some things are just too good to pass up, heroin being one of them. What's that? No, say it again. It sounded a lot like a nerdy teen whining about the irrepairable destruction of family and personal relationships. In fact, it sounded exactly like that. C'mon, I don't see that happening. There's a possibility (albeit very remote) that your family and friends would continue to speak with you, even as you repeatedly pawn their personal belongings to get high. Plus, some of you are only 13, that's why they call it "experimenting". And some of you are 18, and that's why they call it "a habit". But I'm getting off track. Whatever you want to do is fine. Nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to be ashamed of at all, if you don't mind being a total loser who's too scared to do coke once in awhile.

Ok, I can see my message is not getting through, which leads me to one conclusion: In addition to being less violent and more conscious of your sexual health than the generation before you, you have almost no reading comprehension skills. So let me try a different tactic. Do you want me to tell all your friends you've never even vandalized anything before, is that it? Is it that you're too good to vandalize something? Trust me, it's not that difficult. I once fire-bombed 2 mobile home parks before breakfast, and I wasn't even trying. And I'm betting the typical 70's teen could do that and more. In the 70's, a typical teen would probably take a short lunch break and rob a 7-11 without even thinking about it, and then use a rocket launcher on another, reducing it to rubble. For fun. Because it was the right thing to do. Today's weak-minded teens (you) would probably stand in the candy aisle for 20 minutes trying to work up the courage to steal some Good N' Plenty's. Also, Good N' Plenty's are disgusting, so you would lose points there as well.

Indeed, the teens of yesteryear could pop out babies like the human race was at stake. By contrast, it seems that today's teens couldn't get pregnant if they went to school naked. In fact, I've seen more promiscuous behavior in an old persons' home, where a majority of the residents are completely dead. Newsflash, teens: Your efforts are pathetic.

To sum up, a lifetime of drug addiction leads to systematic mental and physical decay of the body. Then death, usually alone in an alley. But there’s a chance this might not happen. So I ask: Are you going to be a little baby about it, or are you going to show the 1970’s teens how to party? If current statistics are any indication, you're going to be sitting at home, filling out college applications. And not smoking weed. What am I supposed to say, good job? I don't think so, little nerdlings.

I Guess My Misfortune Amuses You

The following story is about something that happened which was very traumatic for me. I guess that means you'll all love it. Great.

Last week at lunch I was getting some items from the store. Don't ask me what I was getting, they were just some items that were necessary to get. It might've been a mongoose or it might've been something as simple as a grapefruit. I refuse to say. Maybe it was a self-help book for bipolar people who have trouble forming meaningful relationships due to anger management problems. But that's not for you to say. And now I am enraged. Ok I'm better now. As I was exiting the store, I decided to look behind me to see what other stores were around the one I was just in. I've only lived in the same town for 107 years, so it's unclear why I would need to do that. Yet nothing I do is without a purpose, everything is calculated. I'm asking you to trust my instincts.

Now, if you're hanging off the edge of your seat, desperately wondering what will happen next, you're faking, and you know it. This story would get maybe one star in even the most lenient grading system. A paralyzed infant with no head and little stubby fingers could probably write a story that would make this one look like crap-on-a-stick. But you might as well finish it since you're here. I know, that's depressing. How do you think I feel? I have to sit here and act like this is top-notch stuff.

Anyway, I was walking forward but not looking forward, so the direction my torso was facing was in opposition to the direction my face was...facing. I'm fairly certain there was also a lady with desirable physical qualities somewhere nearby, who yearned for me romantically. If there wasn't, I would be a little surprised. You might want to know how that's relevant. Well, I can't think of even one possible explanation. You nailed me on that one. But I'm betting most of all, you just want this story to end so you can move on. Move on to what? Settle down. I was walking forward, and then I heard a sound that was eerily similar to what one would hear if they launched their head into a concrete pillar they didn't see. Then I saw something that was eerily similar to my glasses* twirling magestically off my head and into the parking lot.

At this point, there was no denying it--I had eerily launched my head into a concrete pillar. Almost immediately, I found myself wishing this were not the case. It also made me think of my brother, who sometimes does this thing where he's walking along and pretends he just walked into a pole by hitting it with his hand (for sound effect), and jerking his head back quickly to simulate contact. For the briefest of moments, I thought, "maybe I'm just doing that thing he does, and I'm only dizzy right now because I have a lot on my mind." Then there was blood and increased dizziness, and I knew better. Then I became angry at my brother for not teaching me how to bash my head the pretend way. Is my pain funny to you? Phil? That's right, I said your name.

The moral is that your siblings, if you have any, are probably trying to harm you in malicious and insidious ways. And then they will steal your birthright, and inheritance, if applicable. Hey, I never said this story wouldn't end with a solemn and depressing tone. I only promised it would be of below average quality, and I think I've kept my word on that.


*I often wear glasses, rather than contacts, during the work day. I do this as a show of support to the blind people. Like, "Hey you guys, we're a team. My vision is still way better than yours could ever be (let's not forget, you're blind) but these glasses I'm wearing are my way of honoring your life, which would be immeasurably better, if you could only see something. ANYthing. I'm SO glad I'm not totally blind. Although you wouldn't know it from this story, I'll give you that much."

You Want Advice? Well That's Lucky Because I Have Some Right Here

Quite often various people in my life will come to me for advice. This seems weird to me, since I'm currently 0 for 439 on the helpful kind. But I'm not about to quit now. Recently, a co-worker presented to me a rather dicey ethical dilemma: A friend of his, Lisa, had just won an all-expense paid 1-week cruise to Jamaica for two. The question was, should he tell his current girlfriend that he was going on a business trip and then go on the cruise with Lisa, or should he not go at all? Well, lucky for him, I have a little technique I like to call "virtual honesty". This is where you say you're going on a business trip, and then you go on the cruise, but in your mind, you go on the business trip. Life is primarily about perception.

However, my co-worker failed to see the value in this, and proceeded to drone on about his current girlfriend, personal responsibility, trust, and a bunch of other new age terms I wasn't that into. I'm like, English please! I never did get what his whole point was, but I wasn't really listening. Plus, it was probably boring. I think I better just transcribe the conversation, so you can see how I handled things. When you see me saying cool stuff, that's really how it happened, but I probably also had a cool look on my face while I was saying it.

Him: [paraphrased] blah blah blah, I want to do the right thing blah, blah blah, my problems are dumb and boring.

Me: Are you asking me to go on the cruise with your friend, is that it? If she's a 6 or above, I'm in. I just don't have time for your little games, or this "turning point in your life" you're referring to.

Him: Why would I want you to go on the cruise? Are you serious?

Me: As a heart attack, my friend (I'm not sure how serious I was, but I like that phrase, and I had to stand by it).

Him [dumb look on face] : You're a freak, why do I even talk to you?

Me: I don't know, maybe because I'm awesome? Get real!

Him: [something dumb]

I can't really remember how the rest of it went, but I think he left my cubicle shortly thereafter. If you're going to talk in riddles about metaphysical ethology, or whatever, good riddance! Plus, I will thank you not to question my rulings in my own cubicle.

Nevertheless, there are a few lessons to be learned from this, which I'll share with you now. Number one, if you think someone wants your advice, but there's no chance of you even going on a cruise or anything, call them on it! Cruise or no cruise? You need to find out where you stand. Number two, just because you know an awesome phrase like "serious as a heart attack", you don't have to use it all the time. I guess that one's mostly for me. Lastly, if a co-worker starts talking to you about something non-work-related, it could be possible for you to have him or her fired, if you pull the right strings. I haven't really researched this one yet. I suppose you could also file a fraudulent sexual harassment claim if nothing else is working. Refer to your employee handbook.

Alright you guys, keep those questions coming. Odds are, I will one day dispense a piece of advice that is both useful and relevant, all at the same time. Although that chance is so small it might not even be a number anymore, I'm not sure how that works. But I will never give up, you have my word.