Monday, January 19, 2009

Weirdness thou art my friend

I sometimes wonder if I was ever dropped on my head as a child.
If so, I am sure it was accidental, at least I hope it was anyway.
Perhaps a head injury could explain why such strange and random thoughts pop into my cranium for no reason.
These questions come out of the blue and often make me wonder if my brain is possessed by some strange medieval court jester, or I am just plain weird.
People who actually know me are not allowed to respond to that last query because I am pretty sure I know what the answer will be. And besides, it’s not nice to talk about people that way.
Often, I will be minding my own business, perhaps playing with a shiny object or something, and a random thought will pop into my brain.
For example, I was wondering why it is called a cat when you tie some one in tic-tac-toe? Why a cat? Why not a platypus or a gazelle or something?
“We tied. I guess that game was an ostrich.”
I have never claimed to be the brightest bulb in the marquee and some things are just a mystery to me.
I read a story where an animal rights group offered scientists $1 million if they could create a commercially viable meat substitute in the laboratory.
I thought they had already done that. It’s called Spam. I guess the hook is it has to be commercially viable (and edible.)
The amazing part about Spam is it has been around for more than 2,000 years. I am not positive, but if you look at the bottom left part of the table in the Last Supper painting, I am pretty sure that is a lump of Spam. I am also sure that’s also when most of it was originally packaged.
There could be a nuclear war and everything on earth would be obliterated except for insects and cans of Spam, which not even the insects would eat.
Speaking of meat, or things resembling meat anyway, how come vegetarians are always scarfing down meat-flavoured veggie products?
They have veggie burgers, veggie hot dogs and a plethora of veggie edibles pretending to be meat. If veggies are so great and meat so terrible, why do they have to pretend their sprouts are some form of dead critter.
I don’t have any vegetable-flavoured hamburgers in my fridge, or broccoli dogs on the barbecue, so eat your lawn clippings and leave us carnivores alone.
Is it just me or does everyone have this problem? How come you have to fart every time you sit down for a meeting with the boss? You could spend the entire day sitting at your desk, surrounded by co-workers who, more than likely, deserve such an occurrence and nothing happens.
But the boss calls you in the office and the next thing you know, you are firing like a howitzer.
Flatulence thou art a fickle creature.
The other day I saw a toy that was a remote-controlled submarine and my first thought was, “How much fun is that?”
You take the craft, put it in the water, it disappears and you get to stand on the shore with a little remote control in your hand.
“OK, I’m turning it to the left. Now I’m turning it to the right. I’m turning left again.”
You would have to take the operator’s word for it because the little grey machine would be underwater and no one would be able to see it.
That sounds like a whole day of fun doesn’t it - standing on the shore, looking at the water while imagining all the cool things your submarine was doing.
You could spend an afternoon doing the exact same thing without the submarine.
And why is it when you turn on the radio you catch only the last 15 seconds of a song you have been wanting to hear for weeks.
For the rest of the day that song will be going through your head and because the radio station just played it, you know they will not be playing it again for a while so you are left to keep replaying the snippet of the song you have memorized over and over and over…
It’s no wonder someone invented Prozac.
When I was a teen, why did my dog bark at me when I came home only if it was after curfew? Any other time, not a peep, but five minutes past the midnight hour and Fido was sounding off like a one-hound pack of wolves.
I am not positive, but I think my sister’s cat made him do it because the cat and I had a hate-hate relationship going on.
In my defense, I would just like to say the cat started it.
Yes, the universe is full of strange and wonderful things, and I am sure my brain will waste plenty of time trying to figure them out.

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