Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Show Me Some Satire

Buff justice: 'Bored' US man charged over naked stick up

NEW YORK (AFP) - A 24-year-old man arrested in the US state of Pennsylvania for holding up a convenience store wearing nothing but a hat has told police he did it because he was bored, according to local reports.
The surveillance video shows a man with heavy tan lines, apparently from a "wife-beater" style vest, approach the counter. Officials said the man demanded money from the clerk, who refused to hand anything over and called the police....

The robber then fled the store empty handed....

Asked by police why he carried out the attempted robbery, he said he was bored.


Ahh, how often have I sat here at my computer, jobless, looking for a way to stimulate my mind other then through cyber tantric sex on steamy Australian adult chat sites. How I admire this man's courage, and his conviction of not getting lost in that blackhole where time and ambition meet to create boredom. Let him free! I say, how many of us can really admit we haven't sought this sort've enlightenment before when we were bored?

If I recall correctly, I experienced 'boredom' in 1998, as it is so passively reffered to these days, during my time as trumpeteer in a local Mariachi band. Don't get me wrong, I lived the fast lane alright. In fact, some would say I was the least likely to be bored, a superlative category I lobbied hard to include in my high school's senior yearbook. I ended up losing the vote to Adam "Flames" Thompson, whose name alone suggests why I may have been out of my league. Needless to say, it was an eventuality; a new report written by the respected institution on 'boredom', the Beaurau of Low Attaining Statisfaction Enterprise (Blasé), suggests that every man, and most women, over the age of 18 will experience this affliction in their lifetimes. Yet we spend all this money in our never ending obsession with materialism, ignoring the plight felt by literally millions. It's truly a shame to see how wasteful we have become.

But back to my story, it hit me suddenly. Like an Arab boarding a plane, I knew this boredom wasn't going to go away. Although it has not, as of this writing, been proven to be contagious, I am sure that I got it from Raphael, my Portuguese roommate and our Mariachi's guitatarronist. He always held the fact against me that I wasn't as "street" as the rest of the band. That bastard, if only his fascination with the stock market was not as strong, I may have avoided the awful fate that awaited me.

I had realized that band practice was not for another 2 hours, and a meeting I was supposed to have with my perscription drugs dealer had to be cancelled, because of the "fuzz". To my astonishment, I had nothing to do. I looked left, and decided I didn't want to do watch television, any of my 1960's Conspiracy: The Cold War dvd's. To the right, I realized I could read a book, maybe finish up Dog Massage: A Whiskers-to-Tail Guide to Your Dog's Ultimate Petting Experience.

How revolutionary are those petting techniques, I thought to myself. Who would've guessed that there are so many ways to pet a dog! I had broken free for a moment, almost releasing my mind out of this state of boredom, but then I had remembered, my roommate accidentally spoiled the ending for me a week back when he uncautiously blurted out that the paw-claw caress was the most effective of the petting techniques. My eyes stared into a sea of black, and I fell right back in. Damn you, Raphael!

Searching for an answer, I got up from my living room sofa, barged through the balcony doors, leaned off the edge and began to scream to dozens of onlookers. "Help me! For the love of God help me, have you no honor? Is there no decency in your hearts?"

There was no reply. I was truly alone, the world had heard my pleas and turned the other cheek. Where is Jesus when you need him? I thought. Probably in Africa, I imagined. They've got a lot of problems down there .

I needed a saviour, and indeed, one would find me. Well, I sort've found him. 'Him' being the overweight, yet cuddly counter manager of the local Wok 2 Go, who had to endure my endless rant on the similarities between Nouri Al-Maliki and Dane Cook. He always let me speak, though, which I thought was polite. The day ended when a local squad car picked me up, right before I could introduce my new theory of relativity to the interested masses. Oh, and I was naked. I should have mentioned, I was absolutely naked. It's just easier that way.

I would like to use this space to apologize to the Wok 2 Go manager, and the 16 girl-scouts (and their chaperones) who had the unhonarable experience of watching my genetalia wiggle while I showcased my arsenal of topical, yet appropriate impressions Kim Jong-Il. I understand, from several "bills" I have recieved, that 4 of the girls have just finished their first phase of therapy. Congratulations, ladies. Just remember, no pain, no gain.

NOTE To the chaperons: It is inappropriate to use mase, despite how "offensive" and "illegal" a person is acting. Think of going with a harsh email next time, or a mild-yet-weighty face to face scolding.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Stories From The Grave: I'm Alive... Or Am I?

Some of you may be intruiged by that title; most of you have already left the page. Let's face it, we're no big name blog with an established readership. But today, we break the bounds of blogging. My friends, today is the day that one of the most logical requirements to blogging ceases to matter.

I am dead. Well, pretty dead. Otherwise someone is really gonna get it for burying me. But how is it possible that a man with no life is able to communicate via this blog, in such eloquent fashion? Before you begin to speculate, this is not the work of God. What you see happening before your eyes, what you're reading in this post, it is all man-made. Show Me The Rules has brought a new lease of life and character to a body that has become one with the earth of Egypt. Yet, what will unfold over the next few months (ed. until SMTR starts to find this character lame) is not without purpose. Quite the opposite actually, I have something I need to get off my chest.

I know who did it. I know what happened to me. And now, I'm going to expose the culprits for who they really are, and what they've done. As a new posting feature to SMTR, Stories From The Grave will be my soapbox to educate the world about the fools that write here on this blog. These people think they know everything, but what they don't know is that I know everything about them.

From my unique position on Earth, I'm going to humiliate these nutbags with stories of their past. What you will read from me, I make this guarantee, you will never read from anyone else. And when all is said and done, I will have achieved justice to those who put me to sleep.

I have awoken.

Monday, September 24, 2007

Show Me The Quotes

"I'm sickened by all religions. Religion has divided people. I don't think there's any difference between the pope wearing a large hat and parading around with a smoking purse and an African painting his face white and praying to a rock. "

-Howard Stern

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Show Me The Sun

UPDATE: Check out the new blog covering the Mid East: Outsider On The Inside





I woke up this morning all sweaty, wet, and hot. I had pit stains that could fertilize the most arid of lands. It could have only meant one thing: The sun is out.

Living in Holland, this is a special occurence. Most of the year it's raining, and if there's nothing falling from the sky, there's no sun to be found. There are days where the sun will tease; it'll make an "appearance" in the morning, and maybe pop in right before sunset, just to show you what your missing. Screw you sun, your messing with my mind.

The sun, as it were, is the most psychologically powerful of the stars. It has a grip on peoples minds that is comparable to ecstasy. That is to say, the drug ecstasy. If your not hip enough for that reference (Seriously, try a drug or two. What do you live in the Middle Ages?), think of religion. People worship God; people here also worship the sun.

The siginificance attached to the sun coming out here is seen in the parks, the streets, the outdoor cafes, all of which are rarely more than half full throughout the year. Everyone is outside, people you wouldn't have imagined living in the small town that I do come out for some sun. Girls have changed into their bikinis to hang out in the park, every guy has his newest pair of 'retro' sunglasses on, the overcoats and windbreakers which used to adorn the city center have been replaced with pink and purple 'polo' shirts, not a single collar in sight that hasn't been 'popped'. Even the homeless dont smell as 'sour'. All hell breaks loose, is what I'm saying.

People feel so free, so liberated. I'm sure this isn't unique to Holland (I've heard that the sun actually exists in a lot of countries.. ed. badam tshh) but the contrast of life with the sun vs. life without it is fascinating. Especially being from places that probably get too much sun at times. I'm not behind the fray though, believe me. I'll wear a pair of shorts when the sun visits, maybe even go out in some flip-flops. Dare I say I may even shave for the sun. It's like having a girlfriend in jail; it's great when you see her, but your a bum without her.

So as the day wound down, the sun, having begun its slow departure from our skies, has made us happy. It has made us forget, for a day, that we have responsibilities. That we have kids, students, employees to watch over, deadlines to be met. Tommorrow will be work, studying, and most importantly, no sun. But it always leaves us looking forward to the next 'one day stand.'

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Show Me The Quotes

When you go to a restaurant on the weekends and it's busy so they start a waiting list, they say, "Dufrenes, party of two, table ready for Dufrenes, party of two." And if no one answers they'll say the name again: "Dufrenes, party of two." But then if no one answers, they'll move on to the next name. "Bush, party of three." Yeah, but what happened to the Dufrenes? No one seems to care. Who can eat at a time like this? People are missing. You people are selfish. The Dufrenes are in someone's trunk right now, with duct tape over their mouths. And they're hungry. That's a double whammy. We need help. "Bush, search party of three. You can eat once you find the Dufrenes."

-Mitch Hedburg (1968-2005)

 
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