Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Economic Disaster Part 2: The Solution

I have astutely identified that there may be a slight problem with our economy.  So, how do we really fix it?  Of course I have an answer.  It's simple and excellent:  Rejoin the world economy.  Not all that is good comes from America.  We've reclused ourselves more than an agoraphobic celebrity.  Except for when we felt like going out and launching some wars on third-world nations (those are the best!)--of course who doesn't like picking on people weaker than us?

First of all, we'll have to get some help from the United Kingdom.  Only with Europeans in office will we realize that maybe the map of international trade expands beyond the contiguous United States...

The second thing we do is import a legion of Frenchmen and put them on hundreds of thousands of little treadmills.  It shouldn't be hard, the population of France (which as we all know is entirely homosexual) has exploded because of the male's confusion caused by the fact that French women have mustaches.  I'm sure they will trade their extra people for faster military vehicles equipped with a good rearview mirror so they can see whichever war they're "participating" in.  Meanwhile the Frenchmen will power our country through their treadmills.  We can avoid constitutional difficulties because it states that only people have unalienable rights.

Next, we commission Japan to make an army of advanced super-robots to police the Frenchmen.  As a bonus package, we can get a model that also performs other useful tasks such as finding reasonable alternative energy sources.  It would probably take the Japanese less time to make an army of robots that can figure it out than it would take us to realize that hey....maybe wasting all of a nonrenewable resource is perhaps not such a super idea?

With less dependency on fuel, we can sell off Alaska to Russia.  For some reason it's filled with endangered animals that we're tired of trying to take care of and it's dark half the time anyway and always cold.  They can build a bridge to it or something.

To fill the vacant slot for the 50th state, we induct the Middle East (sorry Puerto Rico).  It would solve so many problems if they just became Americans.  I mean, come on!  Being un-American they have to keep bowing down towards a rock a bunch of times a day and they have to hide their faces behind bed sheets or surprisingly unattractive beards that have got to itch in that desert sun.  They can't watch good ol' porn or drink their problems's no wonder they blow themselves up!  The solution is assimilation.  Resistance is futile.

Speaking of futile, we can pretty much ignore the Canadians.  Nobody cares about them anyway and they don't really have an effect on the world economy.

But one country already deeply tied to our economy is India.  We've seriously been outsourcing the wrong jobs to these people.  Tech support?  Really?  I make a call regarding a computer program of mine and his response is scarcely discernable against his strong Kwik-E-Mart accent, "Is your computer plugged in?"  Yes it's plugged in, that's how I got to the program I'm having trouble with!  "Is your computer powered on?"  YES IT'S ON, IT'S RUNNING.  "Is the operator of the computer, by chance, Hellen Keller?"  No, I answer.  "Well, then we will not be able to assist you today.  Thank you, come again."  Click.  What we need to do is get the real jobs back and outsource education.  Instead of learning symmetry in middle school like we do here in America, they can already be through basic calculus and discreet mathematics, moving onto quantum mechanics.  Of course the Indian teachers will require an American assistant to keep them from pressing the power button on and off repeatedly, wondering if maybe there's something more to working their computers?

By outlawing alcohol again, we can give Mexico something useful to do:  Illegally importing alcohol instead of wetbacks.

Finally, when all of that is done and we once again become financially stable, we can ship our extraterrestrial remnants we have inconveniently hidden away in the desert to China, where they can reverse-engineer the technology (like they've done with every American invention) and we'll finally be ready to take our place in the intergalactic trade route.

That is my solution.

Quote of the Day:  "Don't make me stop this car and cut myself!"

Monday, November 24, 2008

Economic Disaster Part 1: The Problem

Striking us at the end of an eight-year-long crisis known as the Dubya Administration is a storm that may out-storm all others:  Economic Devastation.  I'll admit that I was startlingly unaware that we were having a money problem, largely because I have no money myself and I'm not used to worrying about it.  But I have little else to worry about today so instead of sitting around being content, I'll throw a fit about this.

The government has been observing the downfall of our economy for some time, though they seem to have little power to prevent it.  Why you ask?  BECAUSE THEY'RE STUPID.  There you go, I said it.  They're probably already on their way to "take care of me" now...

So, let's look at the roots of this problem:  Abnormal concentrations of human stupidity.  I'll go ahead and agree with Al Gore in putting my faith in the fact that if we weren't globally warming our planet then this wouldn't have happened.  But it did, and what did our government do to try and save us?  They sent us Economic Stimulation Checks that almost didn't even come close to the income taxes they've robbed from us.  And what did they do a week before sending us checks?  They spent over forty million dollars to send us mail inserts telling us that our check will be mailed in a week.  Seriously?  Yes.

It's boggling to think about how many people it took for such a grand act of stupidity to be approved...and yet it was.  After all, what else could they have possibly used the forty million plus for?  Surely not returning back to the taxpayers.  Better to use it on sending useless bureaucratic notifications.  It makes them feel more important.  This is what we get for allowing Republicans to run our country.

So, we've identified the problem, but now how to fix it?  Like all other financial problems, the solution is investment.  It has been revealed that American debts in our card-charging society have exceeded the total wealth of the world.  So, if there's not enough money to invest on this planet, we'll have to begin looking at other ones (unfortunately, aliens probably use the Euro too).  We know that they're out there, we've kept all that they've left behind hidden in Area 51, far out of the reach of any beneficial use.

Of course, this is not a viable solution, our planet is much too undesirable for space-faring potential investors.  So what we do is this:  Appoint Harrison Ford as president.  Instead of wasting trillions of dollars on wars and such, use his kick-assery to address foreign policy--that'll free up more resources for being productive.  Replacing our police force with Chuck Norris works for the same reason.  We can save millions on the prison system by having Martha Stewart educate other inmates on how to survive on, and create dashing Thanksgiving centerpieces, out of belly button lint and maximum security toothpaste.

Finally, the most important thing that can get us rolling on a path to fix our planet to make it desirable real estate for extraterrestrials is to fix our crumbling economy.  That's kind of important.  This has basically been an outline of our problem, and I obviously have a solution.  I'm just not telling you.  So there.

Quote of the Day:  "Austin ate my banana, so now I just have a lubricated flashlight."

Friday, November 14, 2008

The Slightly More Complete Guide to Relationships

Well I've already written an Incomplete Guide on this subject. Unfortunately, however, it turns out that I am full of crap. After ignorning many complaints from many important people, I decided not to consider improving it. Then suddenly I changed my mind. Why you ask? Because I'm full of crap.
So here you go, in my infinite teenage-like wisdom I have assembled a slightly more comprehensive guide for relationships for both men and women.

1. If you like a girl, ask her out. Women are too confused and timid to be able to make the "first move" so you must decide when it's time. In tracking your potential mate, you must first observe the woman in her natural habitat unoticed to see what she's really like. For this, I recommend following her to the mall and stalking her as she interacts with her lady friends. Keep in mind that if your target mate seems undesirable in this environment, her lady friends may yet be a better fit for you.
2. It is very important to make a good impression on the first date. Start out by opening her door for her (she will think it's sweet, and women sometimes have difficulty with difficult concepts like "door handles").
3. Always wear your best tie. Wear it with suits, wear it with shorts, even wear it with your wife-beater (contrary to its name, do not beat your wife while wearing's particularly impolite and I very much doubt she'll enjoy it--and besides that's what children are for).
4. The hardest part of a relationship is preparing for the proposal. That is, to get your woman to the point where she'll say yes. This is particularly difficult because, as men, we are full of crap and only women that shouldn't be breeding in the first place will settle for us. So you have to pretend to not be full of crap, take all your feelings emotions and desires and lock it all up in a little box inside of you. If you're not ready to propose, be sure to not let her get pregnant or she'll use it to control the rest of your life. If you think she's spunky, wrap your monkey. Protect yourself down there or end up on welfare.
5. When she does accept your (extravagant) proposal, have a huge wedding. Make it amazing, make it spectacular. And make sure there's plenty of alcohol because marriage is death. After death comes Hell (in the form of children)--and we'll all end up there because we're full of crap.

1. Finding the perfect mate may be difficult. Remember, nice guys finish last. This is crucial to remember--you want men who finish first. Winners. The best of the gene pool. What you really need to be looking for is the recently-released-from-prison, bike-riding, tattooed, puppy-kicking bad boy. Keep in mind that love is the ultimate fantasy. And Four out of Three Doctors agree that putting out is the best way to get love.
2. Once you find him, your lady friends will instantly become jealous, no matter how happy they were before. In their evil deceptions, they will try to poison your relationship by saying things like, "He should treat you better than that, you're more than an object.." and "Really? He does crack AND heroin? He doesn't sound like the perfect guy for you." DON'T LISTEN TO THESE MAD WOMEN.
3. Men are like bedsheets. They get messy and need to be changed. It is important to remember that men are full of crap. Fortunately they are little more than big hairy lumps of clay for your molding. Make sure to tell them to heir face that they are perfect just the way they are (even the morning after they stumble home in the middle of the night drunker than something that is unreasonably drunk). But your innate ability to see his flaws and nitpick them into the open will allow you to slowly change him into the perfect man. Basically the opposite of who he began as. When he's successfully devoid of crap and musters up the ignorance to propose, then you can say yes.
4. If he takes too long to propose, consider your options. And by "consider your options", I mean that you should become pregnant with his baby and trap him into commitment.
5. Make sure to have a huge wedding. Make it amazing, make it spectacular. Make sure there's plenty of alcohol to celebrate the beginning of your life.

Quote of the Day:  "Whatever happened to good old ritual sacrifice?"

Monday, November 3, 2008

One Day I'll Learn...Maybe...

Okay, so, I'm not particularly known for making the best decisions ever. Like the time I was curious to observe the effects of rolling a bowling ball down a flight of stairs and into a glass panel (I concluded that the result was copious ammounts of adult yelling). Or the time that I tested the effects of pulling my Stretch Arm Strong doll from one end of the bathroom to the other (I concluded that the result was also copious ammounts of adult yelling). In fact, most of my finely-tuned childhood experiments resulted in copious ammounts of adult yelling.
A couple of weeks ago, I naively decided to test the effects of informing my mother that I would be traveling to Ohio for a few days and I was met by a rather familiar conclusion. Even before she knew the circumstances of the trip (going to a wedding as my ex's date). She insisted that I was not allowed to travel to that particular state because it would always be accompanied with incredibly negative consequences. It temporarily slipped my mind that my mother is always right. It also temporarily slipped my mind that I tend to have rather bad out-of-state experiences. From the time I almost caught hypothermia in a mud pit on a Canadian island to the time I starved in the mountains of Colorado to the time I was imprisoned in Kansas.

At the airport I always love to peruse the substancially pricey crap. I found it amusing that I was denied entrance to the terminal with my soda bottle because it could possibly be a secret soda bomb disguised as a regular non-explosive soda. So I was forced to discard it and purchase a new freedom soda at the terminals. They are about four times as expensive, but come with the added peace of mind that they are not secretly bombs. A fair tradeoff I think. And any liquid items I did bring had to be placed in a little baggie. I assume that the explosion-proof baggie is our first line of defense against a terrorist attack involving a partially used tube of toothpaste and a trial size bottle of shampoo.
Something else that kind of baffled me was a sign that made a rather big deal about Venezuelan airports not passing TSA regulations for security. So I wondered quietly to myself how long they spend in line at security compared to the number of planes they let fly into their World Trade Centers. Come to think of it, are we the best country to be judging the security standards of others?

I finally made it through and suddenly wished that I was still on the dangerous side of the checkpoint for I had to observe something that was incredibly tacky. That's right, something that was incredibly tacky. There was a blind woman riding in one of the little shuttle cars (too lazy to walk, I presumed) wearing huge opaque black sunglasses that somehow almost exactly failed to please the eye. Seriously, I know she's blind, but the rest of us aren't. So I proceeded to my gate as they warned us that the terrorist security level was orange (I assumed that either someone slipped a secret soda bomb through security or they were trying to scare away the lady with tacky glasses).

My Ohio destination was a small almost-sort-of-kind-of-like-a-town-but-smaller-and-more-frustratingly-out-of-the-way-kind-of-place called Circleville. Seriously, the name Circleville itself tells you how insignificant this place is. And if that doesn't do the trick then you'll understand when I tell you about their annual Pumpkin Show I attended.

The Pumpkin Show was, on the whole, unspectacular. That's because all pumpkins really do is sit there and be orange. Hell, I could do that if I were orange. And they had a lot of pumpkins there on huge tables. And there were things that were not exactly pumpkins, but seemed kinda similar. And things that were less pumpkin-like than those but were somehow scientifically related to the pumpkins and some things that were rather unlike pumpkins altogether and pumpkins that sat around and did nothing but be orange in their previous bhuddist pumpkin lives and were thusly reincarnated into much the same form but with slight differences that made them somewhat less appealing. And then there was a parade where every middleschool or highschool band marched by and showed everyone how displeasing music can be and how untalentedly they managed to almost hit drums properly. Everyone loved this extravagant display of inadequacy. I clapped when I was relieved it was over.
The wedding itself was nice. I was kind of nervous with it being my first Catholic wedding and all (along with the fear that I'd burst into flames upon endering sacred grounds). It turned out not to be so bad when the attractive groom assumed a kneeling position in front of the Catholic Priest. I stepped aside, however, when it came time to cannibalize the symbolic flesh and blood remains of the Christian Zombie Messiah. That's when I burst into flames (or not so much).

Then, due to a rather unexciting string of coincidences I ended up wandering around this nowhere place quite stranded. It's amazing that I only realize that my mother is right when it's too late to do anything. So I decided to make the best of a bad situation and pose dramatically lost-looking as I took pictures of me emphasized by the vast stretches of fields behind me. Then I got back on the road again. And I did come across a storage unit that, much to my pleasure, complimented the color of my luggage fantastically. So I took a picture of that too.
Then through another chain of only mildly-entertaining events that I don't care to record I ended up back in Texas. Just like always.
I'm tired of typing, so this is the end.

Quote of the Day:  "I refuse to have children not because I'm afraid of what I'll do to a child of mine, but rather I'm afraid of what a child of mine would do to the world."