Archive - April 2005
Who Said That?
I’m bored with crazy people. I’m not talking about the guy downstairs who eats mustard by the spoonful, only wears one sock, and walks backward to the laundry room. That’s more like eccentric. No, I’m talking crazy. Breaking the law crazy. You’ve seen them on the news. Some guy commits a crime and later realizes, hey, that may have been a little TOO much. So bam, he declares himself “legally insane.” More like “legally unimaginative.”
They always use the old “the devil told me to do it” line. That’s where they lose me. I know Satan’s the obvious choice, what with being the incarnation of all things evil, but that’s why I think they’re faking. Isn’t Satan a little TOO obvious? Hasn’t the whole “The Devil made me do it” thing been played out? Show some creativity. I’d be more convinced that you were crazy if you said “Chuck Mangione came to me in a dream . . .” Chuck Mangione telling someone to steal a tractor, put on a giant Afro wig, and do donuts in the parking lot of City Hall. Now THAT’S crazy.
Not that I’m trying to defend the Prince of Darkness. But doesn’t he already get plenty of bad press? Surely if your resume already contains bullets such as “Arch-Enemy of God” and “Destroyer of Souls,” you’re not going to bother with petty vandalism. If you’re minions aren’t impressed with the fact that you once waged war with The Almighty, are they really going to care that one time, you made a drunken teenager strip down to his boxers, put a canoe in the middle of the street, and reenact Leif Erickson’s discovery of America? (Now, if it was Leif Garret discovering America, or Leif Erickson discovering his feminine side, you might be on to something.) I just think Satan has more important stuff to deal with.
And how do they know it’s the Devil? Did he just introduce himself? I think that if a voice came to me claiming to be Satan, I’d need some more evidence. Call forth the hounds of hell, make something burst into flames, or explain the current tax structure. Anything to prove he has supernatural powers. Maybe these people aren’t crazy; maybe they’re just gullible. I can see it now, late night, the cable’s been out for a while. . .
Eerie voice: “Psst! Hey! Psst!”
Gullible rube: “Uh, hello?”
Eerie voice: “Yeah, Hi. It’s me, Satan.”
Gullible rube: “Really?”
Eerie voice: “Sure, who else would it be? Chuck Mangione?” (Evil chuckle.)
Gullible rube: “Okay. Uh, what can I do for you, Satan?
Voice: “Well, we, my minions and I, were wondering if you could do something for us?”
Voice: “Could you wrap a bath mat around your head, uh, draw daisies all over your body, and run into the police station singing ‘I’m a little tea pot?’”
Rube: “Uh, sure, I guess.”
Turns out it’s just the college kids upstairs talking through the vent.
And you can’t just say the devil made me do it and think that’s enough. Show me something. Blow spit bubbles at the trial. Wear socks on your ears. Get 30 cats, name them all “Thirty-one” and claim that it DID make sense before, but the Devil kidnapped one of them and forced you to sit in on the kindergarten class and blurt out the answers before anyone else had chance. And get them wrong.
“Blue!! No! Seven!!”
“The answer, Sir, is Macaroni. And please leave.”
Now, that’s impressive.
And maybe you should rehearse it a little. See if you can get out of a speeding ticket that way. Seems to me if you aren’t able to convince a state trooper that it was the Dark Lord who made you go sixty-one in a fifty-five, chances are the judge and the district attorney won’t buy it either.
But if you really want me to believe that your actions were being controlled by some otherworldly force, say it was the ghost of your third grade gym teacher. Blame all your transgressions on the apparition of a man whose heart was so black he would make a group of gangly, uncoordinated, glasses-wearing, already-don’t-fit-in-socially kids play dodge ball EVERY SINGLE DAY. Now that I’ll buy.
I have a friend who likes llamas, but doesn't know what they are. I have tried explaining but she just doesn't get it! She doesn't even know how to spell llama she spells it like this : lama
How do I tell her she's wrong without hurting her feelings?
Trying to help
She likes llamas but doesn't what they are? I'm not sure how that works. And why would she spell anything with a colon (:). Beats the shit out of me.
But on to the crux of the problem - telling her she's wrong without hurting her feelings. Who gives a fuck. Hurt her feelings. I've found that lessons that are accompanied by emotional/physical pain and public degradation are the ones that really stick with you. Perhaps you want to spare her feelings because you like being the "smart one" and don't want to find another stupid person you can tolerate (I know how hard that can be.) Maybe your situation is like the almost pretty girl who hangs out with the girls from the Science Club because it makes her "the hot one."
If you really feel you must keep her as a friend, change the subject whenever llamas comes up, it can't be that often. I'll even give you some topics to throw out "off the top of your head."
- Spit or Swallow?
- Threesomes - two guys, or two girls?
- Cuter - Zach or Slater? Also, would you give Screech a rim job on a dare?
- Puppies vs. kittens - which are more fun to kick?
Hope that helps,
We have a problem with one of our friends they have become really annoying and now we're scared that we may go to prison for GBH. She thinks that she is Gods gift to fat people and that she is interesting. She is wrong. How do we put this in a nice way? She has a problem with self awareness she doesn't really have any friends.
So you have a friend who is arrogant, boring, annoying and makes you want to cause her serious harm, and you want to KEEP her. I hate to say this Guppies, she doesn't have the problem, you do. How much do YOU suck if you have no choice but to keep someone like this as a friend?
Nor do I understand people's fascination with being nice to people they don't care for. Does she perform some much-needed function for the group? Is she the full-time designated driver? Are her parents stinking rich? Does she always have really, really good pot?
If she's not that important, just use Guy Tactic #47-b. Quit calling her.
Come on people, getting rid of someone is not that hard.
Hope that helps,
O-kay. This one's a bit out of my realm of expertise. Normally I'm consulted on the best way to ruin someone's reputation. So I'm not sure what you want here. Do you want to piss her off by saving her reputation? 'Cause I don't recommend that. And it seems damn near impossible to do it more harm.
I hope you're not thinking about trying to Out-Whore someone, because that never works out. Even if you win, all you're left with are some wicked rug burns, a sky-high penicillin bill, and a drawer full of those little combs that come with bottle of Crab shampoo. (No really, I've only heard about those things. I swear.)
My specialty is mocking people, and exacting revenge. You are faced with someone who is making her own life suck, and you have to do none of the dirty work. In the industry, this is called the "Free Ride." Here's my advice:
1. Sit back and enjoy the view, an emotional train wreck unfolding before you is a thing of beauty.
2. Don't swap panties with her.
Hope that helps,
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