More Crap In My Eye

The plan. I was tempted to give this one its very own post but it isn't worth it. Mother Dearest has been on me to come up with a "plan" for my life. I'm all like, "But I did the plan. The plan was college. My high school guidance counselor told me if I went to college, all the doors in the world would open up to me, flowers would bloom in the desert, Muslims and Jews would get it on, and my life would resemble a trendy sitcom about Modern Woman if I got a framed piece of paper with my full name on it. I did the plan. THE PLAN FAILED." I guess what she really means is that she wants me to solve this historic global economic crisis all by my lonesome in between blog posts and gin shots. "Well, you have to get a job," she bitches. Right. Because I haven't ever tried looking for a job. I'm waiting for one to knock on my bedroom door, take me by the hand, and introduce me to his (or her) HMO and 401k. Here's the rub, Ma: We're. In. A. Depression. No. One. Hires. In. A. Depression. Speaking of declaring the obvious...

Generation Y Job-Seekers Hit Hard. That's an actual article title on MSN. One, two, three: NO FUCKIN' SHIT! I really should quit reading MSN. It always pisses me off.

Automatic things. Everything is automated. Think about it. Doors, sinks, toilets, hand dryers, "people movers" (or as I call them, "flat escalators"). I was in a mall bathroom the other day (not soliciting a handjob, Senator Craig) and all of a sudden, I felt like I was living in a lame episode of The Jetsons. If, you know, people in the 60s thought automatic sinks were blazing new technology. The philosophy behind this shit is astounding. Automatic bathrooms? Well, we're saving trees by not wasting as much TP and paper towels. Wow, except for every piece of already recycled paper towel you save from being recycled again, you've wasted more than that in electricity to run this Lay-Z-Boy bathroom! You, sir, are a tool.

I, and you, are capable of touching things and wiping our own hands with paper towels. Allah gave us manual dexterity and opposable thumbs for a reason. Not to wave them under literally stupid computer chips that don't always detect our presence all in some vein attempt at eco-conscientiousness. Besides, every time I approach an automatic door, I get that Simpsons episode in my head where Bart sells his soul to Milhouse for a comic or something and all of a sudden he cannot walk through an automatic door because he lacks a soul. I have a mild panic attack every time I see an automatic door, knowing if it doesn't open, I'm most certainly soulless. Which leads me to my next beef...

I am the living embodiment of entropy. Entropy is the second law of thermodynamics that states the universe tends towards chaos and decay. I am that principle in action. More on that later.

The plane that crashed in New York yesterday. It's a bird! It's a plane! No wait, it's a bird in a plane! I am legitimately relieved to hear there were no causalities, but come on! How insane is it that a plane crashes in New York on the very same day George Bush gives his farewell address on keeping us safe! Well apparently, he should have declared a War on Ducks because those fuckers almost killed 155 people yesterday. Or a War on Human Error. Remember the plane that crashed in Queens on November 12, 2001, killing 265? No you don't! Because it crashed from run of the mill, and way unsexy, piloting error. Certainly nothing to steamroll the Middle East over.

I don't believe in fate but if there is a god, he has a cruel sense of irony. I like that!