This week I've been waking up fairly early every morning. People always said "oh, its so nice to wake up early because then its all peaceful and you can get your day started right." But I never believed them, because night was so peaceful for me. Now I see it though. There was this coffee shop in Reno that was right across the street from where I was living that I always wanted to go to but never did because it was swarmed with annoying teenagers and youngish adult like people whenever I went there. Then I found out that if I went there before noon it wasn't swarmed at all. It was quiet and relaxing and even the coffee tasted better in the morning. I sat there for three hours last week writing an entire short story without being bothered except by an couple of older woman who forced me to take a photo of them (yes, forced me, as I was just sitting there and all of a sudden one of them grabbed me by the wrist and told me to get up and "do something productive before noon". I would have been offended but older woman get like +10 to persuasion as they always remind one of their own mother).
I've taken over the old studio behind my moms house. It was once a studio, at least, then the roots from a tree we'd had since we moved in came up under the foundation. Now the concrete is so cracked it makes me wonder if a very tiny earthquake didn't strike this exact spot. It was turned into a storage room in the meantime and now it is an office/TV room. Yesterday was spent watching Die Hard and filling out applications in here with the dogs wandering in and out and occasionally napping. It isn't the same as living alone, but its as close as I can get without having to pay rent. I can leech just enough internet out here to read blogs and post blogs and send email without it taking too long. Aside from watching TV shows on my computer that is all I ever use the internet for anyway.
I found a slightly defective Chewbacca mask in a halloween store a couple years ago that was about 80% off its original price. My life size Spider-man replica that Paul gave me wears the mask now and it stares at me from just behind where I type this. The eye holes in Chewies face are filled with the blank whiteness of Spidey's masks eyes. No one should ever have to face Spider-Wookie in battle, but I would love to see that shit go down.
Yes, I am just musing right now. Partly out of a desire to post a new blog and partially because I am procrastinating doing my homework.
I'm seriously considering joining AmeriCorps. I'm still working through it though. I'll add more of a detailed accounting of this in a few days.
On a final note, I am now moderating comments to this blog due to some random annoynomus posting I've gotten. I'll still allow any comment to go public so long as the writer of said comment reveals his/her name. The only other way to force people to add their name is by only allowing people with google accounts to post, which would be more of a pain in the ass for people I imagine. I'm not trying to stifle free speech or anything, but this is a more or less private blog (though technically open to the public) that I reckon only a handful of people know about and those annoynomus posts are pissing me off and freaking other people out. Anyway, this is how I'm choosing to deal with it, so if you post a comment don't expect it to show up right away.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Harrowing Boredom
Editors Note: The following is a long, rambling discussion on criminal and civil liabilities facing various corporations. As I wrote it and I am not a lawyer, it isn't going to be accurate at many points. It will also probably be fairly dull if you don't really give a shit about who can get sued and why and what my take on all of it is. If this doesn't sound entertaining at all to you, let me suggest This Article as a much better alternative to reading this post.
Last night I was stuck at an orientation for four hours. Two hours of that time was listening to someone that was wholly unqualified to discuss alcohol and the dangers of serving too much to patrons at the ballpark. They do this because if someone drinks too much at a game and then gets in their car and drives away and crashes into someone, the stadium is a likely candidate to get sued. It's an odd thing, that.
Bars, on a nightly basis, serve people until they are far too drunk to drive and some of those people still get in their cars and speed off. Of those people, some are destined to get into an accident, to kill someone when their car rams another head on. It's a tragedy whenever it happens, I agree with that sentiment. What I don't agree with is that it is the bars fault. They have a service that specializes in vice, they sold their wares, laws exist on the books that say that you can't just stop someone from getting into their car and driving away. Private citizens don't have the right to just stop other people from getting into their own cars and committing a crime. They have every right to call the cops and say they think someone is about to drive drunk. But that isn't necessarily their responsibility. This is something that has been bugging me since that orientation. I know that legally the bars can get sued, but at the same time no one sues them because usually they don't have enough money to make it worth going after them. The big venues, stadiums, ballparks, etc. have the money so people go after them. It doesn't matter if the person had just a couple beers at the game and it was drinking at a tailgate party or somewhere near the game that got them wasted. They were at the game, its the owner of the stadiums fault. This is the same mentality that made it so that only plastic bottles were served in stadiums. Some morons threw bottles at an ump and instead of getting pissed at them they get pissed at the conglomerate that allowed them to have glass bottles. It's such a strange world we live in. I'm not really promoting that the idea that we should change the laws at all, but it does make one wonder. How far can this idea go? When we hold someone personally responsible for their actions (i.e. driving drunk) but then hold a corporation liable in civil court, aren't we in effect saying that everyone that had any part of serving alcohol to someone that did something incredibly stupid whilst under the influence of that alcohol is responsible? The low-wage worker that handed them the beer, the truck drivers that delivered the beer to the stadium, the brewery that made the beer? Where's the line?
If I ate at McDonalds everyday and as a result lived my life with increasingly clogged arteries and massive amounts of fat, is it McDonalds fault when I have a heart attack? Is it the owner of the individual franchise that knew me as a regular customer but served me every time I came in? Is it the bigger corporation who, in order to increase profits, allows for cheaper and cheaper, and thus less healthy, ingredients? Or is it the farmers that sell the meat to them at lower prices because it isn't up to the standard of beef other restaurants demand? Then where can you go with it, how far back? The cows have to eat, have to drink, have to have land in a state somewhere. That farmer, did he go to a bank to get a loan when he lost half his herd one year? Is the bank culpable? Is some overseas investor in that bank liable because he has a large stake in that bank? I know this sounds ridiculous, but I wonder about these things sometimes. There is a big difference, I know, to selling someone alcohol at a stadium and then not noticing that he got in his car and drove off than playing Six Degrees of Separation to liability.
I guess what my problem is is that I want to be held responsible for my own actions and no one elses. If I fuck up, get myself in a heap of trouble, I can see why I might have the impulse to want to pass the buck. People have laughed at the so-called "Twinkie Defense" claiming the Twinkies diminished his brain capacity and lead to mood swings. But the fact that most people are aware of the phrase "Twinkie defense" if not the actual arguments in the case means that we have had this idea of blaming the big, bad faceless corporations for our own shortcomings and crimes.
Often I want to rally against corporations. There are many reasons to hate them. They do whatever they can to make more money for themselves and they don't really care who they hurt in the process. But I want to take them on for what they have done. If they are dumping illegally, if they are paying workers less than what they earn, if they build a two story off shore and throw the words "World Wide Headquarters" across the face of the building so they don't have to pay taxes in the US even though they do all their business in the US, they should be held accountable for that. And its not like I don't think they should be held accountable for selling things that really are dangerous. I can get behind suing tobacco companies, for example, even though I smoke, for a variety of reasons. They produce a dangerous product and when they market it to children or try to alter studies to make it seem less dangerous, they should be sued. I think what I'm having a problem with is these acute situations. If it came out that tobacco companies could reduce the risk of cancer from smoking their products but just didn't because it would make the cost of a pack go up a few extra cents, they should be held accountable. If, however, someone fell asleep in a luxury hotel with a cigarette burning in their hand and burned the place down, that is that persons mistake. The cigarette, though it may have been the real thing that started the fire, was not put into that persons hand, into that room, and the person wasn't lulled to sleep by the cigarette, so this would be an acute event. A one time thing that is solely the person who fell asleep fault. I realize that my examples aren't great, but they are meant to illustrate my point.
It could be said that in a society we are all our brothers keeper. That we have to look out for one another to make sure that one person isn't going to do something to upset the status quo. When a company has a longer reach, they have more responsibility to watch out even more. Yet we often do forget about them, letting them get away with things that a smaller business would never be able to get away with. But we also have no problem pointing our fingers at them whenever someone does something stupid. But we only point the finger when we think there is something in it for us. That we can get some money out of them. That's why we don't find them criminally liable. They are just being sued because they have deeper pockets. And its incredibly hypocritical. It's the same reason why doctors have to pay so much in malpractice insurance. They are going to make mistakes, but people don't have to have a reason to sue someone. They say they were mistreated and they can sue. Even if they don't have a real case it gets to a point where it is cheaper to settle than to fight it in court. The perception is that doctors and hospitals can afford to get sued, so people go after them. Now, this brings in a different set of arguments about the courts and the practice of medicine that I don't really want to get into. But the point is that if doctors were all making minimum wage and hospitals run on donations alone, we wouldn't hear about doctors getting sued. For our society to really work, for people to really have a reason to look out for others and make sure that we are all doing our own small part to keep societies wheels in motion, we have to all be equally culpable. The mega-corporations should be just as likely to be sued as the small businesses. If I am walking down the street in downtown Reno and see someone who is clearly intoxicated get behind the wheel of a car I should be just as responsible for calling the police as the bartenders of the bar he just left. If there is to be any justice in the world, then we all have to take equal responsibility.
Last night I was stuck at an orientation for four hours. Two hours of that time was listening to someone that was wholly unqualified to discuss alcohol and the dangers of serving too much to patrons at the ballpark. They do this because if someone drinks too much at a game and then gets in their car and drives away and crashes into someone, the stadium is a likely candidate to get sued. It's an odd thing, that.
Bars, on a nightly basis, serve people until they are far too drunk to drive and some of those people still get in their cars and speed off. Of those people, some are destined to get into an accident, to kill someone when their car rams another head on. It's a tragedy whenever it happens, I agree with that sentiment. What I don't agree with is that it is the bars fault. They have a service that specializes in vice, they sold their wares, laws exist on the books that say that you can't just stop someone from getting into their car and driving away. Private citizens don't have the right to just stop other people from getting into their own cars and committing a crime. They have every right to call the cops and say they think someone is about to drive drunk. But that isn't necessarily their responsibility. This is something that has been bugging me since that orientation. I know that legally the bars can get sued, but at the same time no one sues them because usually they don't have enough money to make it worth going after them. The big venues, stadiums, ballparks, etc. have the money so people go after them. It doesn't matter if the person had just a couple beers at the game and it was drinking at a tailgate party or somewhere near the game that got them wasted. They were at the game, its the owner of the stadiums fault. This is the same mentality that made it so that only plastic bottles were served in stadiums. Some morons threw bottles at an ump and instead of getting pissed at them they get pissed at the conglomerate that allowed them to have glass bottles. It's such a strange world we live in. I'm not really promoting that the idea that we should change the laws at all, but it does make one wonder. How far can this idea go? When we hold someone personally responsible for their actions (i.e. driving drunk) but then hold a corporation liable in civil court, aren't we in effect saying that everyone that had any part of serving alcohol to someone that did something incredibly stupid whilst under the influence of that alcohol is responsible? The low-wage worker that handed them the beer, the truck drivers that delivered the beer to the stadium, the brewery that made the beer? Where's the line?
If I ate at McDonalds everyday and as a result lived my life with increasingly clogged arteries and massive amounts of fat, is it McDonalds fault when I have a heart attack? Is it the owner of the individual franchise that knew me as a regular customer but served me every time I came in? Is it the bigger corporation who, in order to increase profits, allows for cheaper and cheaper, and thus less healthy, ingredients? Or is it the farmers that sell the meat to them at lower prices because it isn't up to the standard of beef other restaurants demand? Then where can you go with it, how far back? The cows have to eat, have to drink, have to have land in a state somewhere. That farmer, did he go to a bank to get a loan when he lost half his herd one year? Is the bank culpable? Is some overseas investor in that bank liable because he has a large stake in that bank? I know this sounds ridiculous, but I wonder about these things sometimes. There is a big difference, I know, to selling someone alcohol at a stadium and then not noticing that he got in his car and drove off than playing Six Degrees of Separation to liability.
I guess what my problem is is that I want to be held responsible for my own actions and no one elses. If I fuck up, get myself in a heap of trouble, I can see why I might have the impulse to want to pass the buck. People have laughed at the so-called "Twinkie Defense" claiming the Twinkies diminished his brain capacity and lead to mood swings. But the fact that most people are aware of the phrase "Twinkie defense" if not the actual arguments in the case means that we have had this idea of blaming the big, bad faceless corporations for our own shortcomings and crimes.
Often I want to rally against corporations. There are many reasons to hate them. They do whatever they can to make more money for themselves and they don't really care who they hurt in the process. But I want to take them on for what they have done. If they are dumping illegally, if they are paying workers less than what they earn, if they build a two story off shore and throw the words "World Wide Headquarters" across the face of the building so they don't have to pay taxes in the US even though they do all their business in the US, they should be held accountable for that. And its not like I don't think they should be held accountable for selling things that really are dangerous. I can get behind suing tobacco companies, for example, even though I smoke, for a variety of reasons. They produce a dangerous product and when they market it to children or try to alter studies to make it seem less dangerous, they should be sued. I think what I'm having a problem with is these acute situations. If it came out that tobacco companies could reduce the risk of cancer from smoking their products but just didn't because it would make the cost of a pack go up a few extra cents, they should be held accountable. If, however, someone fell asleep in a luxury hotel with a cigarette burning in their hand and burned the place down, that is that persons mistake. The cigarette, though it may have been the real thing that started the fire, was not put into that persons hand, into that room, and the person wasn't lulled to sleep by the cigarette, so this would be an acute event. A one time thing that is solely the person who fell asleep fault. I realize that my examples aren't great, but they are meant to illustrate my point.
It could be said that in a society we are all our brothers keeper. That we have to look out for one another to make sure that one person isn't going to do something to upset the status quo. When a company has a longer reach, they have more responsibility to watch out even more. Yet we often do forget about them, letting them get away with things that a smaller business would never be able to get away with. But we also have no problem pointing our fingers at them whenever someone does something stupid. But we only point the finger when we think there is something in it for us. That we can get some money out of them. That's why we don't find them criminally liable. They are just being sued because they have deeper pockets. And its incredibly hypocritical. It's the same reason why doctors have to pay so much in malpractice insurance. They are going to make mistakes, but people don't have to have a reason to sue someone. They say they were mistreated and they can sue. Even if they don't have a real case it gets to a point where it is cheaper to settle than to fight it in court. The perception is that doctors and hospitals can afford to get sued, so people go after them. Now, this brings in a different set of arguments about the courts and the practice of medicine that I don't really want to get into. But the point is that if doctors were all making minimum wage and hospitals run on donations alone, we wouldn't hear about doctors getting sued. For our society to really work, for people to really have a reason to look out for others and make sure that we are all doing our own small part to keep societies wheels in motion, we have to all be equally culpable. The mega-corporations should be just as likely to be sued as the small businesses. If I am walking down the street in downtown Reno and see someone who is clearly intoxicated get behind the wheel of a car I should be just as responsible for calling the police as the bartenders of the bar he just left. If there is to be any justice in the world, then we all have to take equal responsibility.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Indiscriminate Correlation
Today I awoke in a fairly good mood. It was a bright and early 11:30 in the morning and I had just slept for the last ten hours. Feeling like a winner, I jumped out of bed to write a quick, and frankly ill conceived, post for Aprils Fools day. Granted I have never been big on Aprils Fools day. Not that I don't appreciate the many subtleties of the day. But I am never going to be at Hawkeye levels of practical joking. Nor am I even going to scratch the surface of Jim, from The Office, levels of practical joking. I just don't have the creativity for it in me. Either that or the malice. Most practical jokes rely on the perpetrator to have some sort of disdain for the perptratee. Since I hate intangible things, organized religion, unorganized religion, big business, small business, republicans, Democrats, the green party, organized sports, competitive eating competitions, the National Association of Faith Healers, Jesus, monkeys with cybernetics attached to their brain stems, really smart fish, hybrid cars that get lower gas mileage than Hummers, Hummers, and hard work I find it challenging to find a proper target for my jokes. If only I had some sort of completely clueless buffoon in my life that I could make fun of with practical jokes, but alas Stephen King doesn't live anywhere near me.
Most people find April Fools day as a day for quietly subverting the status quo. For me, it was a day of great significance. Well, not that great. Maybe. Or was it? No, probably not. But I did get a job. And I know, I know, you're all thinking "Executive Vice President of Marketing and Research" but surprisingly no. I will be selling hot dogs, beer, and possibly cotton candy at Reno's very own Triple A baseball team. Out of over a thousand applicants I was hand chosen to walk up and down stairs all day yelling "HOT DOG! HOT DOG! SODA! HOT DOG!" in the blazing heat of a Nevada summer. Jealous? You're jealous.
Seriously, though, there were a shitton of applicants. I stood in line for forty minutes, watching people with ties that cost more than a month rent soberly hand over applications and explain why they would be more than qualified to sell tickets to a minor league baseball game. It was awful, and I didn't think I had any real chance which was why I didn't take much consideration in filling out the application. I mean, I didn't lie on it, but I did mix up the order in which my banal, dead end jobs had occurred in. A problem I was concerned about when the first thing the interviewer asked me was to describe, in great detail, my job history. Fortunately he had the application in front of him and I was able to use it as a cheat sheet to see what I had said on it. Then he asked me like two more questions and offered me a job. Bamo.
It's almost sad. I watch those people on American Idol stand in line for days just to get a chance to be on the show. I watch as the contestants for "Americas Next Top Model" get into a damn riot all because someone yelled either "FIRE!" or "HE'S GOT A BOMB!" (depending on which news sites you read) and I think morons, I'd never stand in line that long for some obscure chance to be on TV. Yet I stood in line for a long while just to get a job selling hot dogs. Really its sent my whole world view into question. Yet I have to assume in this case they were looking for the bottom of the barrel. The people that really had no discernible skill or talent. The people that had been working the lowest jobs on the pay scale all their lives, long before the recession. In fact, it might just have been the greatest April Fools Joke of all time. "Congratulations! You've Got a job! Unfortunately, you'll be working for peanuts" they say. "Really? Whats the job?" I ask, my seat edge bearing my entire weight, "selling peanuts."
I'm not complaining though. Honestly if I was a success at this point in my life I'd feel like a fraud. I've always wanted to be a writer, and I want to create shit that is fucking amazing. I can't yet, but I think I'm getting closer. A little dirty secret of mine is that I think suffering, depression, and an inability to do well at most things one puts their mind too are the milestones of any one that will ever do well as any sort of artist. There was a point in my life wherein I actually pursued misery. Now it just knows where to find me. I'm just a couple more bar fights, a few evictions, and some painful firings away from being able to actually get the real taste of misery in my mouth.
You see, I don't want real misery, who does? what I want is the sense of it. I want to know what it feels like without having to lose everything that is precious to me. There are people out there going through real suffering and I know, I know, I am not one of those people. And I pray to the great big imaginary being that, although it has created all of everything, still finds times to mettle in the affairs of an underachiever, that I never have to find out what real suffering is. But I can't write it convincingly if I don't have some sort of idea of what it might feel like. It's a thin line, and I've erred on the cautious side of it. I'm never going to be the type to throw myself completely into it. No Ken Kesley or Hunter S. Thompson or Tom Wolff am I. But to get a slight feel for it I have to let myself make humongous mistakes with my life. And hopefully it will pay off. Currently I am planning a huge undertaking that I want to succeed but have a strong feeling that I will horribly fuck up. I don't want it to fuck up, but if it does, then that is something that I can add to my lists of things I've ruined. In a weird way my life is a constant upside. No matter how bad I fuck up I feel that it is making me a more rounded person. A stronger person, with more to say about the world. Today the writing professor I am taking a class from told me that he has always sensed a large amount of anger in my stories. I'd never thought of it in exactly those terms, but he has a point. I express most of my anger through writing. It is powerful, and it gives me that "fuck you!" attitude that I need in order to want people to actually read what I write. Perhaps this is why I often write such long, rambling posts. Not that I want to say fuck you to the people who actually come here and read what I have to say, but rather because I feel like if they are going to come here and listen to me rant they are going to listen to me rant, damnit! Anger has always driven my writing. Yet another thing I've learned on this invaluable Aprils Fools day. I feel like I should sacrifice a goat or something. You know, to let the gods of April Fools day know I appreciate what they are doing.
Most people find April Fools day as a day for quietly subverting the status quo. For me, it was a day of great significance. Well, not that great. Maybe. Or was it? No, probably not. But I did get a job. And I know, I know, you're all thinking "Executive Vice President of Marketing and Research" but surprisingly no. I will be selling hot dogs, beer, and possibly cotton candy at Reno's very own Triple A baseball team. Out of over a thousand applicants I was hand chosen to walk up and down stairs all day yelling "HOT DOG! HOT DOG! SODA! HOT DOG!" in the blazing heat of a Nevada summer. Jealous? You're jealous.
Seriously, though, there were a shitton of applicants. I stood in line for forty minutes, watching people with ties that cost more than a month rent soberly hand over applications and explain why they would be more than qualified to sell tickets to a minor league baseball game. It was awful, and I didn't think I had any real chance which was why I didn't take much consideration in filling out the application. I mean, I didn't lie on it, but I did mix up the order in which my banal, dead end jobs had occurred in. A problem I was concerned about when the first thing the interviewer asked me was to describe, in great detail, my job history. Fortunately he had the application in front of him and I was able to use it as a cheat sheet to see what I had said on it. Then he asked me like two more questions and offered me a job. Bamo.
It's almost sad. I watch those people on American Idol stand in line for days just to get a chance to be on the show. I watch as the contestants for "Americas Next Top Model" get into a damn riot all because someone yelled either "FIRE!" or "HE'S GOT A BOMB!" (depending on which news sites you read) and I think morons, I'd never stand in line that long for some obscure chance to be on TV. Yet I stood in line for a long while just to get a job selling hot dogs. Really its sent my whole world view into question. Yet I have to assume in this case they were looking for the bottom of the barrel. The people that really had no discernible skill or talent. The people that had been working the lowest jobs on the pay scale all their lives, long before the recession. In fact, it might just have been the greatest April Fools Joke of all time. "Congratulations! You've Got a job! Unfortunately, you'll be working for peanuts" they say. "Really? Whats the job?" I ask, my seat edge bearing my entire weight, "selling peanuts."
I'm not complaining though. Honestly if I was a success at this point in my life I'd feel like a fraud. I've always wanted to be a writer, and I want to create shit that is fucking amazing. I can't yet, but I think I'm getting closer. A little dirty secret of mine is that I think suffering, depression, and an inability to do well at most things one puts their mind too are the milestones of any one that will ever do well as any sort of artist. There was a point in my life wherein I actually pursued misery. Now it just knows where to find me. I'm just a couple more bar fights, a few evictions, and some painful firings away from being able to actually get the real taste of misery in my mouth.
You see, I don't want real misery, who does? what I want is the sense of it. I want to know what it feels like without having to lose everything that is precious to me. There are people out there going through real suffering and I know, I know, I am not one of those people. And I pray to the great big imaginary being that, although it has created all of everything, still finds times to mettle in the affairs of an underachiever, that I never have to find out what real suffering is. But I can't write it convincingly if I don't have some sort of idea of what it might feel like. It's a thin line, and I've erred on the cautious side of it. I'm never going to be the type to throw myself completely into it. No Ken Kesley or Hunter S. Thompson or Tom Wolff am I. But to get a slight feel for it I have to let myself make humongous mistakes with my life. And hopefully it will pay off. Currently I am planning a huge undertaking that I want to succeed but have a strong feeling that I will horribly fuck up. I don't want it to fuck up, but if it does, then that is something that I can add to my lists of things I've ruined. In a weird way my life is a constant upside. No matter how bad I fuck up I feel that it is making me a more rounded person. A stronger person, with more to say about the world. Today the writing professor I am taking a class from told me that he has always sensed a large amount of anger in my stories. I'd never thought of it in exactly those terms, but he has a point. I express most of my anger through writing. It is powerful, and it gives me that "fuck you!" attitude that I need in order to want people to actually read what I write. Perhaps this is why I often write such long, rambling posts. Not that I want to say fuck you to the people who actually come here and read what I have to say, but rather because I feel like if they are going to come here and listen to me rant they are going to listen to me rant, damnit! Anger has always driven my writing. Yet another thing I've learned on this invaluable Aprils Fools day. I feel like I should sacrifice a goat or something. You know, to let the gods of April Fools day know I appreciate what they are doing.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Official News
So yesterday I was sitting around watching some TV and decided to have a few beers before bed. But then I got a call at 7pm from this place I'd been talking too about me getting a job. They wanted to hire me, and they wanted to do it before 8, which was weird but they were all like "we just had to fire three people and we need people by tomorrow threw me in the back of one of the squad cars and left made sure we sat there long enough for me to see them tow my car away from the scene. That sucked. Fortunately when they breathalyzed me I was under the limit, but that didn't seem to bug them after what they had found. I was taken over to Parr and processed and then I got to meet with this public defender, who was this smoking hottie. Blond with big ta-tas and wearing this red blouse buttoned real low. Oh, man, she was fine. And I think that sex was pretty much the only level that she could practice law at, because she was flirting with me for a bit when she first introduced herself, but then she was flirting with the cops when they came in to talk to me. And before long she was saying like "I don't know if that was a fair traffic stop, you maybe didn't have the right to search his car, so whatever you found, you know, it was like the fruit of the poisonous tree or something." And they just fucking dropped the charges like an hour later. It was fucking awesome.
But then I realized I didn't have any money or anyway to get home and I asked the hot attorney to give me a ride home. She gave me this little smile that and was all like "oh, so you're inviting me back to your place?" And I said sure, even though I thought she was just being cutesy and didn't really want to go home with me, mostly because I had noticed she had a really, really expensive engagement ring on, but I've never been one to say no to somewhat slutty professional womens. Though, to be fair, their profession is usually hooker. Anyway, she is driving me home and I'm not really sure if she actually is going to come in and I'm thinking about how messy my place is and the fact that my bed is a single when this really bright, bright light is shining on her car. We both are straining, trying to look up, see what it is. We can't though, because its so fucking bright. I tried to open the car door, but then it was like it was locked from the outside or something. I won't lie, I was freaking out a little bit and even tried to break the window by punching it. But even though Arnold can break windows with a light punch, that fucking hurts when you try to do it in real life.
All of a sudden we are floating, and I can see that we are about a mile off the road and then it felt like I had all the wind knocked out of me. Like some prize fighter had just punched me as hard as they could. I seriously thought I was going to die and I just passed out. I don't know how long I was out for, but when I came too me and the attorney are sitting on this really plush couches and there are all these weird little dudes around us. At first I thought we had been rescued by either a traveling circus or perhaps the lollipop guild. Then I noticed the little dudes were all bald and naked and gray. Then one of them started talking, it was this crazy language I'd never heard before, but then all of a sudden, like there was some translator in my head, I could understand. He was saying "Matt, we need your help. The Omega Section 1123 has been overrun by the warlord Megamothinican II!" And I said "what can I do to help!" And then the little dude, who told me his name was Franzlithian, said "you will know." And I looked over and say the attorney was now wearing this skin tight leotard that had this strange simple on the chest right below where it had been low cut to show off her amazing breasts. And then I looked down and realized that I was wearing a similar leotard, only it covered me up a lot better. And also, it had somehow made me into an action star, I was totally buff as long as I wore it. So they handed us some laser guns and told us to take one of their smaller ships out to the Omega 1123 section.
But as we got into the ship to fly I was overwhelmed by a need to say a poignant one liner, but I couldn't think of one, and while I was pondering what to say, I crashed into the Google Earth satellite and we fell back to earth, landing in the middle of the pacific, were we were eventually saved by a mermaid and a talking dolphin after they convinced us to help free the enslaved people of Atlantis. But that is a story for another April Fools day.
But then I realized I didn't have any money or anyway to get home and I asked the hot attorney to give me a ride home. She gave me this little smile that and was all like "oh, so you're inviting me back to your place?" And I said sure, even though I thought she was just being cutesy and didn't really want to go home with me, mostly because I had noticed she had a really, really expensive engagement ring on, but I've never been one to say no to somewhat slutty professional womens. Though, to be fair, their profession is usually hooker. Anyway, she is driving me home and I'm not really sure if she actually is going to come in and I'm thinking about how messy my place is and the fact that my bed is a single when this really bright, bright light is shining on her car. We both are straining, trying to look up, see what it is. We can't though, because its so fucking bright. I tried to open the car door, but then it was like it was locked from the outside or something. I won't lie, I was freaking out a little bit and even tried to break the window by punching it. But even though Arnold can break windows with a light punch, that fucking hurts when you try to do it in real life.
All of a sudden we are floating, and I can see that we are about a mile off the road and then it felt like I had all the wind knocked out of me. Like some prize fighter had just punched me as hard as they could. I seriously thought I was going to die and I just passed out. I don't know how long I was out for, but when I came too me and the attorney are sitting on this really plush couches and there are all these weird little dudes around us. At first I thought we had been rescued by either a traveling circus or perhaps the lollipop guild. Then I noticed the little dudes were all bald and naked and gray. Then one of them started talking, it was this crazy language I'd never heard before, but then all of a sudden, like there was some translator in my head, I could understand. He was saying "Matt, we need your help. The Omega Section 1123 has been overrun by the warlord Megamothinican II!" And I said "what can I do to help!" And then the little dude, who told me his name was Franzlithian, said "you will know." And I looked over and say the attorney was now wearing this skin tight leotard that had this strange simple on the chest right below where it had been low cut to show off her amazing breasts. And then I looked down and realized that I was wearing a similar leotard, only it covered me up a lot better. And also, it had somehow made me into an action star, I was totally buff as long as I wore it. So they handed us some laser guns and told us to take one of their smaller ships out to the Omega 1123 section.
But as we got into the ship to fly I was overwhelmed by a need to say a poignant one liner, but I couldn't think of one, and while I was pondering what to say, I crashed into the Google Earth satellite and we fell back to earth, landing in the middle of the pacific, were we were eventually saved by a mermaid and a talking dolphin after they convinced us to help free the enslaved people of Atlantis. But that is a story for another April Fools day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)