Not Totally Inept

Breath-takingly insightful, if you're really dumb.

Monday, May 21, 2007

More Stuff Gandhi Told Me Before He Died

Hey everybody, what's the good word? By the way, it's still cool to say what's the good word. It's like, what's the haps, people? These phrases are pretty raw, yes, but it also explains why they're so appealing to the youth of today. Raw street language is basically what I'm speaking here. You can't sugarcoat me, because I'm from the streets. Yet, even criminals like myself who haven't had a formal education can experience life on a deep level. As evidence of this, I've recorded several genius-level observations. Only people who want to advance intellectually should read them. If this isn't your goal, then you should do something which requires less concentration, like buying a popsicle.

Number one, I've noticed that my soap and shampoo isn't running out nearly as quickly as it should. This isn't right, to feel intimidated by my soap dispenser. I think I may start pouring some of it down the drain to make myself feel more hygenic.


Speaking of great ideas, here's one of my latest. Read it and weep. The day before an interview, you should watch a horror movie. Then, no matter how poorly the interview goes, no one can describe it as "horrific." If someone tries to do this, you can say, "no, what was horrific was The Ring, which I watched last night. The interview was just something which went very badly and damaged my self-esteem. There's a difference."


It bugs me that I have to touch whatever has a WET PAINT sign attached to it. It doesn't matter if the object looks mostly dry, not very dry, or if live paint is actually being sprayed on the object as I walk by. I must touch it, just to MAKE SURE. Of what, I don't know, but if the recently painted object is left untouched, nothing is reconciled and I will be without peace until the time of my death. I'm not sure what the moral is here. I think the moral is that I have serious problems.


The other day, as I embarked upon my well-worn route to the mall food court, I saw a portly mother of four wearing a t-shirt with "I've got the 4-1-1" written on it. Instantly I thought, "you have slightly greasy, mentally unkempt offspring on the loose, but the 4-1-1? After taking a brief visual inventory of your situation, I feel confident this is something you do not have." Then I kept walking, hoping to find someone that actually did have the 4-1-1, so they could tell me why I still have a job in a mall. A mall which doesn't even have a Gap. I don't even like the Gap that much, by the way.


My friend is really into the Care Bears, which makes sense because she's 26. She gave me the Bedtime Care Bear for my birthday. You can think what you want, but the bear glows in the dark, so what's up now? It feels good to admit it, though--I like the little guy. Reading what I've just written, I'm not sure how either one of us has any friends, but I don't think that matters so much now that I have this Care Bear.

If anyone has a question about Care Bears or any of today's observations, feel free to think a little harder, and then ask. I don't want questions just right off the cuff, that shows disrespect for my time, and strains our relationship. Thank You.

Saturday, May 12, 2007

Paris Hilton Cited For Being Extremely Annoying, Death Penalty Issued; Whole World Agrees With Decision

After driving with a suspended license 9 times in a row, Paris Hilton may finally do hard time. But not in a dirty way, which is unfortunate. No, I'm talking about jail time, which I guess is what happens when you have pretty blonde hair and a Louis Vuitton bag, but no license. Paris does not agree with the prospect of jail time. Laying spikestrips down on the road to logic, she has described her predicament as "not fair." In spite of her eloquent assessment of the situation and celebrity status, I was able to form an objective viewpoint, which I have recorded on my blog site for posterity. My viewpoint continues below unheeded.

You may remember from the first paragraph recorded above that Paris has disputed the fairness of her plight. I think "fair" would be making her shop only at Mervyn's, for all eternity. Not that Mervyn's is necessarily bad, it's just that it reeks of poverty. Do not attempt to contest this point. If you do, everyone will learn of your excessively low income, and no one will pay attention to you ever again. Trust me, I'm a peasant, and no one even looks at me. I'm just trying to protect you guys.

Anyway, not only is the jail time fair, it is my expert opinion that the presiding judge is being a fruity little fruitbasket in his leniency. To be an effective judge in a court of law, you have to reach deep inside yourself, metaphorically, and pull meaningful punishments out of every available orifice. That's what I have the ability to do, and I've never even been to law school. I had one business law class, that's it. If a judge can't do what I have so easily done in earlier paragraphs, then he should be executed with no trial. I bet he doesn't even reference previous paragraphs he's already written, like I do. Pathetic, almost.

Whatever happens, prison will probably be the new vacation hotspot for Hollywood socialites. The obvious draw is that vacationers wouldn't have to puke up as much food in order to stay pretty--portion sizes are definitely smaller at San Quentin than Outback, there's no disputing that. Also, new inmates frequently get their food stolen before they have a chance to eat it, so it takes less willpower to stay at 85 pounds.

Another upside for these hollywood hotshots is that they could be stabbed while in prison, which is exciting! I think a good shanking can sometimes help a person's career, unless they lose too much blood, in which case they would die. But a solid shanking with moderate blood loss? That will improve one's google page rank without a doubt. I guess only time will tell how these laundry room stabbings will play out.

One thing's for sure: Paris is going to jail, and like everything else she does, it will somehow end up benefitting her. Am I jealous? Of course I am. If I bought a rat-dog and walked around Beverly Hills with my homemade sex tape, all my friends would stop talking to me. By way of contrast, if Paris Hilton started punching old people, it would be the coolest thing to do ever. But when I do it (and I have done it several times), it is rarely well received. It's not that I especially like punching old people, I just DON'T like the double standard.

Hopefully this blog post clears up any misconceptions about that.