Random Articles Not About The Pope
So Cookie Monster will be eating healthier in response to efforts to combat soaring childhood obesity rates. I have another idea for people who want to combat that: stop feeding your fat ass children Big Macs every day. I must admit, though I understand the reasoning behind the change I don't think it's going to make a big impact. Oscar the Grouch was dirty and disgusting but I still bathed as a child. Mr. Snuffalapagus was desperately in need of some Prozac and I was still a happy child. Bert and Ernie were gay and I turned out heterosexual. But whatever.
Some study showed that sex, crossword puzzles and running can help ward off dementia. I am all for sex and crossword puzzles, sometimes simultaneously but usually separately, however I'm not a big fan of that whole running thing. Unless of course, you're running from some maniac or natural disaster. Then naturally I'm an advocate of that.
Okay, we all know that child molestation is not funny. There is nothing funny about it. At all. And yet, why does the idea that Michael Jackson kissed Macaulay Culkin while copping a feel make me want to both puke AND snicker? I think it's because hearing or reading Macaulay Culkin's name is like fingernails raking down a chalkboard for me. I can't believe he hit it with that hot chick from That 70's Show. That was a good get for him. I don't know what she was thinking though.
It's all fine and dandy to prosecute spammers, not that I don't enjoy getting 8956 e-mails per day from people offering me free ink cartridges, lower mortgage rates, pills to make my non-existent penis larger and of course, memberships to sites where I can watch "Heather" touch herself "just for me." But when can we start going after the REAL internet criminals? You all know who I'm talking about. Those fuckwads that pass on chain letters. I hate them. As if I needed help to sit and think about all the crappy things that could happen in life. Fuckers.
Scientists have "genetically modified fruit flies to jump or beat their wings when flashed with lasers." Nice. I see where this technology can be benficial to me in the future. Scientists should genetically modify Bill Gates to give me money whenever I flash him with a laser. Or genetically modify someone to deliver Indian food and some liquor every time I flash them with a laser. That would rock. Or at the very least, they should genetically modify my dogs to puke up the random crap they eat off the ground while they're still outside, and not 5 minutes after I've brought them back into the house.
I really want to go to Scotland. I mean even more than I want to go to New Zealand aka Middle Earth. I don't know what it is, but I think me and Scotland would really get along. We might even become best friends. At the very least, we'd be those people that even when they haven't seen each other in a long time, act as if no time has passed when they finally do get together again.
At first it was nuts to see video footage on the news of people canoeing down residential streets that look like rivers and to think that we're in the same state. But then I remembered two summers ago when Jersey City got flooded pretty badly. Geo and I were on our way to the hospital and got stuck in a random parking lot because we were surrounded by water on all the streets. We sat in our car for 3 hours and never got farther than a mile from our house. We couldn't even go back home. That blew.
I am not much of a royal watcher, oddly enough, since I do so obviously like fairy tales. But I have watched enough to know that we should all be glad that Charles and Camilla Parker-Bowles will not be bringing any children into this world. Because those children would be the ugliest children in the history of offspring. It would be like that television movie The Mask with Cher in it, about the kid that was disfigured and had to go to school. That movie was sad. I mean most kids out there are at least decent looking, just by nature of the fact that they're kids. But Charles and Camilla's children would just be horrifically ugly. Rarely are we offered an opportunity to thank God for menopause, but well, thank God for menopause.