Well, ya know the old saying: take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pro-choice. I think that was Faust. Pretty sure that was Faust.
In 1979, in Cincinnati, 11 people were trampled to death trying to get into a Who concert. And the Who still played! And there were guys in the audience listening to “Teenage Wasteland” watching Pete Townsend do the windmill with fresh blood on their black jeans and Reebok socks thinking, “Please, play Pinball Wizard as an encore.”
Now, one Somalian teenager runs around campus with a nail file the whole city shuts down like he’s T-1000.
It’s getting nice outside. I’m just glad the Pokemon Go people are back in their cages. What an odd pandemic that was. It was like Night of the Living Nerds. Just herds of waddling weirdos staring at their phones. People said the weirdest things like, “I’m just glad these kids are getting outside and getting some fresh air.” I’m not! I want to go to the park without seeing dozens of 300 pound 12 year olds walking around like a lobotomized rhinos with their phones cushioned on their giant sweating fupas looking for Charazard. Please. Go back to your Dorito dusted sofa in your mom’s basement and get back to planning a high school shooting or whatever you were doing before you got distracted. Please.
My girlfriend said she wants to get a cat. Which is good; I’m actually encouraging it because I’d like to get a new girlfriend. I’m more of a dog guy, but even dating a girl with a dog is a little like dating a girl who lives with her grandmother. The only difference is you can have sex in front of the dog without locking it in the closet.
I slept with a girl once who let her black lab named Otis sleep in the bed with her. I woke up the next morning with black dog hair all over me, in my mouth. I looked at the girl; she had black dog hair stuck to her face. It was disgusting. So I didn’t call her again. And to this day, she’s angry and confused as to why I shaved her dog in the middle of the night. It was a communication. She said, “Behave Otis.” I thought she said, “Shave Otis.” I was not there to ask questions, and she should have been more careful with her words. Because she knows I like to shave my bitches right before I fuck ’em.
Apparently the NFL combine happened this week. Everyone has that nerdy football fan friend who wants to rattle off stats from the combine. “Myles Garrett ran a 4.64 40, his vertical was 41 inches, and he benched 225 33 times.” I’m always like, “Yeah, but…can he sew? Don’t you think he should be able to sew? He’s bound to tear some britches running that fast. Might help to take some sewing classes and acquire some skills that can compliment the talents he already has. It’s called aptitude symbiosis.” And then they say, “Zach, you’re a fruit.”
I saw an article the other day in a scientific journal, that read “Dreadnoughtous Dinosaur Weighed Whopping 65 Tons, Feared Nothing.” Well, how the hell do you know that? This was 100 millions years ago–you didn’t get a chance to lie Dreadnoughtous down on your couch and psychoanalyze him. He could have been afraid of spiders and apple sauce, you don’t know! I’m not an archaeologist, but in my experience, size is no predictor of fearlessness. In my experience, Dreadnoughtous would have been plenty afraid of trying on a dress at Macys. I think Dreadnoughtous would have been a little scared of flying coach.
I hear scientific claims all the time that I don’t understand. Things like “A Taiwanese Mountain Sheep has 10 times better eyesight than a human.” Which human? Not that impressive if it’s Stevie Wonder. He’s blind if you haven’t heard. But who is testing the eye sight for a Taiwanese Mountain Sheep? And how? Do they show them the letters? “Ok now, read the bottom line now if you will. Wow. He read the copyright information at the bottom of the card from 30 meters.”
I was in Mexico for Christmas break, and I was ordering food at a restaurant and the server asked me where I was from. I said, “I’m American.” She said, “You know this is America too. We are in North America. There is also Central America and South America, so when you say you are “American,” it’s actually offensive to everyone else in the Western hemisphere. You should really refer to your country as the United States of America. I was like, “Wow. I didn’t realize that… I ordered a lecture, I thought I ordered tacos. Evidently, I ordered talk-os.”
She goes, “Do you want queso?” And I say, “You know, there are different types of cheese, so when you refer to Mexican Cheese as queso, it’s really offensive to all 642 types of quesos, like swiss queso, cheddar queso, and my favorite type of queso, that’s right, United States of American queso.
Mexico is a touchy subject right now. Hillbillies are still complaining about Mexican taking jobs from Americans. But the truth is Mexicans are not taking your jobs. I repeat Mexicans are not taking your jobs. Women are. “Well that’s true; they took the darn Ghostbusters jobs.”
People were pretty ridiculous about the new Ghostbusters. The people on the right were upset because they thought this somehow tarnished the very prestigious legacy of this critically acclaimed masterpiece. It’s a comedy about exterminators for goblins with Rick Moranis–how upset could you be?
And the people on the left saw it twelve times as a show of how funny they think women are. But I didn’t get the debate. Everyone knows women are as funny as men. I think they are funnier! Have you ever seen them try to play sports? It’s like watching a toddler hug a puppy. It’s adorable. Calm down. That’s obviously a joke. I mean how would I even know what women look like playing sports?
But honestly, I love the idea of switching gender roles in classic films. I think they need to do more remakes of old movies and switch the genders of the main characters. The next one they ought to do is Big. 10 year old girl becomes a woman overnight, gets a job, starts banging a 40 year old dude who is attracted to her because she childishly plays with dolls, and at the end of the movie, he goes to prison for the rest of his life for statutory rape. Maybe you could change the name. Instead of “Big,” call it “Jared.” Box office smash.