Archive - June 2005
I Drank What?!
Mankind’s thirst for knowledge is boundless. At least, that’s the theory. We idealize our ancestors, Neanderthals and Cro-Magnons alike, as great searchers of wisdom, clawing and scratching their way up from the depths of ignorance and setting themselves apart from the other animals. They invented the wheel, harnessed the power of fire, and realized the fashion value of the Great Horned Seersucker of the Brazilian savannah. Of course, they also hunted the Seersucker into extinction until now all we are left with is a rather poor imitation.
But the point is, they were the great thinkers and discoverers. They single-handedly dragged humanity kicking and screaming into the light of knowledge. They figured out how to use animal skins to hold water, they invented beer (YAY!), and they discovered how to spell naughty words on an upside down calculator (this one may or may not be attributable to the Neanderthal, my research was inconclusive.). They were the original architects of the intellectual pedestal upon which we humans have placed ourselves. And deservedly so, right?
We wish.
More likely is the following comparison. Our Neanderthal forefathers are the prehistoric versions of the kid who ate paste. I know this may come as quite the blow to our collective homosapien ego, but in grade school we would have spent more time making up funny songs about them – Og, Og, smells like a dog and sleeps on a log (I need a mean seven year old to help me with that, but you get the point) – than we would have revering their deductive reasoning skills.
We can only fathom at the number of these great thinkers who died after eating the poisonous berries before someone realized that maybe it wasn’t a coincidence. And do we really believe that the wheel came about on the first try? “Hey Moog! Check it out! I just invented the rhombus!” Not that I have anything against the rhombus, believe me, I LOVE the rhombus. And I certainly don’t need any more threatening letters from NOARTALGS (National Organization for the Acceptance of Rhombuses and Trapezoids As Legitimate Geometric Shapes).
And then there’s milk. Yes, milk. Perhaps mankind’s most perplexing foray into trial and error. It seems so innocuous now, yet this dairy product betrays our ancestors as the “No, I Double Dare YOU” aficionados they were. We never even stop to think about where it actually comes from, and what must be done to get it. And it seems highly unlikely that cow’s milk was the very first animal juice a person ever tried. Just how does one eulogize a friend who got trampled trying to suck on a mastodon’s trunk? I don’t know either, but I’ll bet it happened.
Were the first
animal suckers brave volunteers or were they the unwitting pawns
of some cro-magnon charmer? “”Hey Moog, go see if you can get
any juice out of that rhinoceros’ horn.” Perhaps he volunteered
himself for the less dangerous liquid-gathering excursions and
used his cavemates as taste-testers. “Hey Og, try this.” Og
spits in disgust. “What that?” “Bunny rabbit urine.” I can
even picture him chiseling a line through each idea on his stone
tablet. Bunny rabbit urine.
Sure, eventually they would stumble upon cow’s milk, but can it really have been that easy a thing to convince someone to try? “Hey Bonk (first guy to stand upright and realize the cave was too short), what say you march up to that two thousand pound beast over there, crawl under its belly, latch on to one of those dangly bits, and see what happens?” Why nowadays suggesting such a thing would, at best, get you ignored and at worst provide you with a state sponsored vacation in a hotel with really, really soft walls.
But gone are the days of “Hey, I bet you won’t . . .” We’re much better than that now. We don’t have to think of ways to convince our neighbor to try out a potentially life-threatening new idea. We’ve got machines and computers and the French to do that. Modern scientists can, with just a few keystrokes and mouse clicks, program a computer to tell them what would happen if a person fell backwards onto a porcupine during mating season. No need to find volunteers. Type, type, click, click. The modern day charmer has just convinced the two million dollar computer to eat paste.
So fret not parents, if your child is the class paste-eater. Rest assured he or she will do more to further scientific knowledge than all the straight A students put together. Of course, he’ll also live in your basement until he’s forty, but that’s a small price to pay so that the rest of us can feel good about being the “smart” species.
DEAR GRUMPY LLAMA:
I CAN'T DECIDE WHETHER TO EXPOSE MASSIVE FRAUD BY NASA'S
JET PROPULSION LAB IN PASADENA CALIFORNIA.
REMEMBER, PLEASE, I HAVE CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN UP TO
MY ASS TO SUPPORT. I WORK FOR JPL AND COLLECT A NICE SALARY FOR
KEEPING MY MOUTH SHUT. IF I DON'T KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT...YOU KNOW
THE REST!
PLEASE REST ASSURED THAT I, AM NOT TALKING CHICKEN FEED
HERE. I'M TALKING ABOUT A MILLION DOLLARS HERE AND A MILLION OR
SO DOLLARS THERE--YOU KNOW--SOME REAL MONEY! AT LEAST REAL
MONEY IN MY BOOK, BUT WHAT THE HELL, MAYBE NOT REAL MONEY WHEN
YOU COMPARE IT TO 1.6 BILLION DOLLARS EVERY DAMN YEAR TO FIND
OUT THE PLANET MARS MAY HAVE HAD WATER ON IT 42 BILLION YEARS
AGO.
MY DILEMMA IS SIMPLE. IF I CHOOSE TO EXPOSE THE BASTARDS
THEN I IMMEDIATELY COMMIT SUICIDE BECAUSE THEY WILL IMMEDIATELY
KNOW IT WAS ME BECAUSE OF THE NATURE OF THE INFORMATION. AS A
RESULT, I WILL BE KIDNAPPED AND SECRETLY HIDDEN ON THE NEXT
SHUTTLE FLIGHT-WHICH I'M SURE IS DOOMED TO BE DESTROYED BY TWO
POUND PIECE OF FOAM. PLEASE ADVISE.
SIGNED,
MOON MISSION MALFUNCTION
Dear Moony,
First of all, it's called CAPS LOCK, and it can be turned off, too.
Secondly, a million dollars? Really? Do you think the government gives a shit about a million anymore? Hell, they spend more than that each day just to keep gas prices under $2 a gallon . . . hey, wait a fucking minute.
Anyway, I'd find some prick you don't like (maybe that schmuck Hanrahan, in accounting) and make it look like he blew the whistle. Then, you've done the right thing, and removed another dickhead from the world.
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
Dear Grumpy,
Dear D. Falini,
Make a deal with her. Every time she calls it Star Trek, you get a blowjob. That should take care of it. I once dated a girl who learned how to rebuild the carburetor off a '58 Chevy just to not suck my dick.
As regards the gold bikini and choke chain, well, that just sounds selfish to me. I for one applaud your patience for continuing to date anyone so self-centered. But, if you do talk her into it, let me know how - for research purposes, of course.
Ah, lightsabers. That would be cool. But my guess is, the saber you already have gets you into plenty enough trouble.
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
Dear Married,
Yeah, if I were a girl, I'd know everyone at the free clinic by first name. But that's not really relevant. The bottom line is that I don't know. If I did, I sure wouldn't have time to write this column. So be glad that she ever was a slut, and use those memories, a lot.
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
Dear Grumpy,
Dear P-Chan,
Don't panic! I can get you through this! I've been there. I once watched a "My Two Dads" marathon when the batteries died. (Greg Evigan is so much better when he is playing FOIL to a chimp.)
First, marvel out how those shaved monkeys - the Olsen's - managed to turn out semi-attractive. I mean seriously, those were some ugly babies.
Second, come up with as many sexual acts as you can that should be called the "Kimmy Gimmler." I.E., a girl giving her man a blow job while she's on the john. "Yeah man, Becky forgot to lock the door and I barged in on her. So she went ahead and Gimmlered me." Or someone who likes to put blue feathers in his partner's rectum because he has a "thing" about peacocks.
That should last you until someone gets home, or you need to pee.
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
Dear Grumpy.
I am in need of urgent advice!!! My
ass really itches!! But you see I am quite a large person and
my arms are much too short. Can you help?
Thanks
Huge "Ass" O'Donnell
Dear Ass,
Super glue four brillo pads to a baseball bat.
Good luck with the morbid obesity!
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
Dear Grumpy,
I have had some boy troubles lately. I have a crush on my one
really close friend, and by close I mean he tells me everything
that goes on. Yet, said friend likes my other friend (the friend
he likes is a girl, no worries there), but I could have sworn he
had a crush on me back because he'd do cutesy things like walk
me to classes and buy me thoughtful presents and really open up
to me (you know, the stuff that you do for girls in order to get
ass). My friend keeps sending me mixed messages and everyone
tells me he likes me and that we should go out already. I can't
talk to him about it because he just goes off and changes the
subject on me when I do. What should I do?
Thank you,
Hopeless and in love
Dear Hopeless,
Buying thoughtful presents and opening up gets you ass? Man, I really could have used that information in high school. Because sulking about it and masturbating to the Violent Femmes sure didn't work.
Seems to me your friend is looking for the quickest route. Perhaps he believes your other friend is sluttier than you. This is SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) for men. The good news is, men grow out of this stage in their early eighties.
What should you do? Date someone else or buy a vibrator. Perhaps both.
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
Dear Grumpy,
I don't know what it is, but guys always like me as a sister or
best friend, never as a girlfriend. This one guy I really like
is good friends with me, but I want us to be more than friends.
Plus, he keeps going out with these horrible jerks. What should
I do?
Sincerely,
Only a best friend
Dear Only,
Well, if you're in West By God Virginia, being thought of as a sister will at least get you felt up in the bed of an F150. If not, you could try giving your friend a hand job in the bathroom. At the very least, he'll like you for four or five minutes, and that's a start. Barring that, go to an engineering school, or any college with the word "Tech" in it. The numbers will be in your favor then (typically a 3:1 ratio). If that fails, start buying cats and learn to ignore the whispers.
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
Llama Lovers Friend
Dear Friend,
Wow. It's very tricky to put together a whole sentence like that using all English words and in an order that at first glance looks like a coherent thought, but upon further review, doesn't say a fucking thing. So, I'm going to say you should shave all your hair. Everything. Right down to your toes. Not sure it'll solve your problem, but I'm not sure what your problem is, or even if you have one. (Okay, well, I'm pretty sure you DO have a problem, but that's another matter altogether.)
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
Dearest Grumpy Llama,
I must first say your advice is wonderful, and I commend you on your advice giving skills, I only hope that you can help me with this. My friend keeps calling me the devils seed! Now I do not believe that I am the devils seed, and I don't know what I have done to deserve this. And I don't want to lose my friend though I have told him that it bothers me, he continues to do so. It really hurts my feelings. How can I make him stop, I know he is joking, but he just won't stop! I just don't know what to do, and I really like him as a friend! If you have ANY advice for me please post it.
Thank you
Imad Dork
Dear Dork,
Thank you. And remember, it's not butt-kissing if it's true.
Although my first reaction is that you seem oddly offended by being called devil's seed, and perhaps you are too sensitive, that's probably not what you want to hear. As always, I believe you must fight fire with fire, especially if you have already given someone the opportunity to quit being a jack ass. So call him names back, and it's best if you can find just one that really gets him, and use it every time he calls you devil's seed. Does your friend have some readily apparent deformity? Such as hunch back, knock knees, "burger lobes," or red hair? If so, that's the way to go. Otherwise some variation of "needle dick" will be useful. Particularly if you are female. Why? Because regardless of your relationship with him, if people hear you commenting on the size of his penis, they will assume you have first hand (get it?) knowledge. He also knows people will assume this, and that will get his attention. If all else fails, kick him the nuts when he says it. At least then you get to laugh at him writhing on the ground.
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
Dear Llama Babe,
"The greatest llama that ever lived." With that, my ego is nearly as swollen as my liver. Bless you.
It is not possible to love llama's too much, especially this one. (Well, there was that one time I started chafing pretty bad, but I can't be expected to stop just because someone fell asleep, can I?) And if loving llamas (figuratively, I assume, else send pics please) is all you're known for at school, fret not. It could be worse. You could be in band. And chances are very high that your boyfriend is indeed putting it on to make you like him. Not because I know him (I don't) or because there is anything TOO weird about llamas, but because he is male. And I'll play the odds. A man looking to convince a woman to give it up (some refer to it as "dating") will say whatever he thinks will increase his chances. Don't bother breaking up with him over it. All men are like that. If you don't like it, try lesbianism, though they may be just as bad. I wouldn't know. The only thing I know about lesbians is, me likey!
So don't worry, you're fine. But then again, what the fuck do I know?
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
Hello Grumpy.
I have a problem. I work in Japan...(that's not the problem I
want to discuss though). One of the teachers I work with
is evil. She seems to
be under the mistaken impression that she is my supervisor. She
is anal retentive who allowed her parents and Japanese society
in general to crush her dreams long ago. I pitied her until she
turned on me like a ninja in a tea house. She gets worked up
about ridiculous things...example, the exact amount of copies
must be made for each class and if I mistakenly use a few extra
sheets she will lecture me about it for the next 15 minutes. If
I take a vacation day she will punish me in passive aggressive
ways.
I have two months to go but I am losing my mind at a
faster rate. Please advise me.
Domo Arigato Mr. Llamato...
(See what I mean about the losing my mind thing....)
Sake Ittome...
Dear Sake,
Lucky you. One of the easiest class of people to deal with is people who think they are your boss. Seriously. A lot easier than dealing with an oppressive nutsack who really IS your boss. The best response to the lecturing is the "Blatant Ignore." It's funny, too. Next time she starts in, listen politely long enough to let her get going, then let out a huge yawn, say "Boring," and walk off. Man, people fucking hate that! As for the rest of her bullshit, it's hard to give examples without specifics, but keep in mind she's not your boss, so feel free to get creative. Let me know how it goes!
A caveat. As a general rule, such peer treatment as noted above is safe and fun, but if you are on a career track, make sure the person you are pissing off have little or no chance of becoming your supervisor in the future. Because that'll just suck.
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
Dear Grumpy Llama,
Llamas rule but every time I start to talk about them with my friends I get yelled at by someone. What should I do?
From,
BillyJoeBob 3
Dear BJB3,
Llamas DO rule! And it sounds to me like these people aren't your friends. Real friends only yell at you when:
1. You're on fire.
2. The cops are coming.
3. Two girls are fighting in the next room.
4. You're about to hook up with an uggo.
Keep up the good fight! They'll come around. If not, go get yourself a wicked case of crabs and roll around naked on their beds. It'll be fun, and when everyone's yelling at their significant others about who gave crabs to whom, they won't be yelling at you.
Hope that helps,
Grumpy
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