Potatoes are proof that God loves us and wants us to eat potatoes.
Hunting would only be "sporting" if it were possible you could be killed too.
There is no event more traumatic, expensive, or hostile to the continued happiness of a couple than a wedding.
Technically, cyclists aren't allowed to cruise down sidewalks with headphones in their ears. Of course, technically, pedestrians also aren't allowed to clothesline them as they carelessly zip by.
"I love you" can mean many things, none of which unfortunately translate into "I won't post those naked pictures of you on the internet when this is over."
It's as well that money can't buy love, since I can't even afford goldfish.
Choosing the lesser of two evils is a loser's game. It's like choosing between a public toilet that hasn't been flushed, and a public toilet that's been pissed on. The choice is never as clear as you'd think, and you still have to do some work before you can get anything done.
The fact that people murder each other over the pettiest things, and yet almost never jump on their cheap, filthy, noisy roommates and wrap a plastic bag around their heads until they stop kicking is a true testament to the importance of having someone to share the cable bill with.
The soul patch is the new mullet.
The cause of suffering, poverty and intolerance in the world isn't that people of faith don't practice what they preach. The problem is that they do.
Those who can do. Those who can't pundit.
There is a strong inverse relationship between the quality of a movie and the length of time it takes to come out on DVD after its run in the theatres. Which just goes to prove the old adage: good things are worth waiting for, and Eddie Murphy goes into the the discount bin.
Waging an aggressive war: 1500 dead soldiers and 100,000 dead Iraqis.
Ordering more executions (including minors) than any other governor in history: 152
deaths
Deaths per year caused by a lack of healthcare in the US: 18,000.
Rallying to extend the life of one brain-dead woman who wanted to die: That's
pro-life.
CGI is a lot like space travel. You shouldn't use it unless you're prepared to spend a lot of money to do it right, and even then more people will think it looks fake than they would if you'd just used models in the first place.
Please don't put ads in our public washrooms. We don't urinate in the coffee pots at your luxuriously appointed corporate headquarters.
Poor George W. Bush. He hates negativity and criticism. That's why he didn't listen to anyone who was against going to Iraq, and that's why he isn't listening to anyone critical about his plans for social security, the environment, education, the arms race, or the Middle East now. But there will always be critics, as President Bush will realize one day when he looks around the fruits of his labours and says, "What are you skulls all grinning at?"
"Delicacy" is another word for something you wouldn't dream of putting in your mouth if you didn't see rich and famous people doing it first.
No one should be eager to go to war without being prepared to go to war himself.
You never regret the horrible leaders that you did vote out of office. You only regret the horrible leaders that you don't.
'Tis better to have loved and lost than to have a profile on Lavalife that contains the word 'soulmate'.
Bloggers are to the mainstream media what remora eels are to sharks. They occasionally pick up bits that went unnoticed by the larger fish, but they'd starve if the media weren't there, and only an idiot would call them the new killers of the deep.
George Washington could not tell a lie.
George W. Bush could.
Anti-feminist, anti-choice, anti-gay, anti-secular, anti-gun control, anti-foreigner, anti-human rights, anti-science, and anti-speech.
Religion shouldn't promote hatred, and it can never justify violence. So why is it
that, other than Jesus, the only thing that extreme fundamentalists of all faiths
really disagree about is where to put the bombs?
The perversity of human nature can hardly be better illustrated than through the observation that the only thing that makes people warier than asking them for something is offering to give them something.
Instead of wars on terror, we could make the world a lot safer for everyone by declaring wars on famine, disease, and, well, war.
Some would say that harsh penalties have the potential to reduce crime and restore public faith in the justice system. Others would say this depends on whether or not Kenneth Lay gets the chair.
Difficult moral questions can be resolved by looking to the example of a great figure for guidance, so next time, ask: What would Spider-Man do?
Voting is a little bit like being forced to choose between the poison, the key lime pie, and a plate of shoelaces sprinkled with icing sugar for dessert.
If you can't have what you really want, force them to make something you can live with before they simply give you what you deserve and charge you for it to boot.
There are more people in the United States who have a cell phone than there are people who have medical insurance. This is "progress" in precisely the same sense as marching straight along a freshly paved, downhill road to hell.
Since the well-intentioned folks at the White House seem to have forgotten, remember: when attempting to win a people's hearts and minds, you catch more flies with honey than you do by shoving broomsticks up their asses.
The reason I'm basically sympathetic to both sides in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is that there've been times that I've wanted to strangle my roommates, too.
Ignorance doesn't mean that you don't know all the answers, but rather that you think there's only one.
Jealousy only makes the other person look even better.
The happiest couples on Saint Valentine's Day are shopkeeps and their cash registers.
We popularly refer to extreme prudishness in the face of something even only
mildly naughty as "Puritan." Those with a slightly greater sense of historical
understanding would use the term "Victorian." Someday, the most astute of cultural
observers will refer to it as being "American."
[For posterity's sake, I am of course referring to the outrage over
Janet Jackson's vaguely exposed boob]
To those brave future warriors who must battle against the super-intelligent computers we are creating today, my advice for stopping them dead in their tracks is: install a printer.
Some conservative writers have been comparing the US war against Iraq to the epic struggles of the Lord of the Rings. Since we all know that the Black Gates of Mordor opened only to reveal an unarmed army of deserting orcs and a cowering Sauron, and we discovered that the One Ring was actually a bad forgery, and finally concluded that Gandalf was a shameless, war-crazy liar, I guess I'd have to agree with them.
You don't need mad cow disease to remind you that eating too much meat is bad for you.
By challenging evidence, testing witnesses, and holding the government up to a constitutional standard of fundamental justice, good defence lawyers help keep the state honest. If the authorities are allowed to break the law, then there is absolutely no reason for anyone else to obey it.
In journalism, good news is no news.
If you can't count on something to get you out of a bind, you can probably only
count on it to get you into one.
This naturally includes Schwarzeneggers.
Two handy tips for living alone:
1. A pitcher or two of hot water unclogs a stubborn toilet like the very hand of
God.
2. In an emergency, you can bunch up a fresh blanket and hold it like an old
love.
The crime of writing a headline in the form of a pun (e.g. "Grade expectations" for a back-to-school-piece) is one that should be punished by compiling each and every one on a separate page in a hardcover volume, which is then weighed on a scale against a respectable thesaurus. The offender should then be soundly beaten with the heavier of the two.
Nothing spoils a good erotic dream like waking up alone.
War is an art only in the sense that it resembles one of those oversized paintings of stripes and blotches that everyone gets mad about because the government spent millions of dollars on it.
The terrible thing isn't so much that the sole qualification for governing a state, a country, or a people is money, but rather that no one worth voting for has any.
What pollutes our society's commitment to marriage and family more: legalizing gay marriage between two loving people, or marrying off complete strangers as though they were show dogs on reality TV?
If God had meant for people to be truthful, He wouldn't have given them presidents for role models.
What on earth would I want to meet new people for? They're just as bad as the old ones.
The sight of a litter box being filled has the same stimulating effect on the excretory system of a cat that running water does for a human being.
Ignorance kills more people than SARS, West Nile Virus, and Mad Cow Disease (vCJD) combined.
The only privacy you have is from people who don't care to know.
-- contributed by N. Hanna.
[audio file]
Harrison Ford leaving Melissa Mathison to marry Callista Flockhart? Why, that's
like Han Solo leaving Princess Leia for C-3PO!
[audio file]
If lying makes the baby Jesus cry, what on earth does bombing
civilians do?
[audio file]
There is nothing inconsistent about being opposed to war and hoping for the
safety of all the soldiers and civilians involved.
There is, conversely, something very hypocritical about rushing into
war, and then being suprised and appalled when the casualties and prisoners begin
to accrue.
That's why it's called "war."
[audio file]
On lonely nights, I take great comfort in knowing that I come from a long line of people who have had sex at least once.
If you can afford the outrageously expensive high speed internet connection required to download anything large enough to be pirated in the first place, you can afford to go buy the CD.
It's a sad fact but, when you think about it, sleazy pickup lines are often more effective than honest expressions of affection, and worse this is only partly explained by the fact that sleazy pickup lines are far more common.
Blessed are those who treat their cellular phones like the private parts of their own bodies. Yes, they're jolly good fun and quite useful now and again, but there's a time and a place.
Falling in love is like falling into anything else. Just stop looking where you're going.
The usefulness of a given sentence is inversely proportionate to the number of exclamation points that follow it.
It takes more courage to bare your heart to another person than all your shameful naked body parts combined.
Acknowledging the power to end your life makes each day a beautiful
choice.
-- inspired by K. Allen, 2002.
It's a paradox of life that too many people don't have everything they need, while too many people don't need everything they have.
About the only thing war is good for is business.
There is no way to choose who sits next to you. Whoever they are, however they smell, whatever their problems might be, they choose you.
Try to describe yours to a friend and you'll discover it too: grandmothers are cute and strange, like birds.
Possessions are nine tenths of the law.
[noticed on a lamp post on Rideau Street on this, my first day of
law school.]
An addiction is technically defined as requiring three of the following
conditions: "Preoccupation with the drug; unintentional overuse; requiring
progressively larger doses to achieve the same effect; withdrawal symptoms when the
drug is not used; persistent efforts to control use, followed by relapse;
abandonment of important social, occupational, or recreational activities that
interfere with drug use; and continued use despite serious drug-related
problems."1
Now, I hate to be a party pooper during a "war on terror," but if you substituted
"Arab oil" in place of the word "drug" in this definition, then suddenly I'm
curiously reminded of someone in dire need of an intervention.
1Alloy, L.B., Jacobson, N.S., and Acocella, J.,
Abnormal Psychology: Current Perspectives (Boston: McGraw-Hill College,
1999) at 330.
Every day is the weekend when you're unemployed. [says Rob, finished his student job for the summer, and late for this update.]
According to t-shirts and bumper stickers everywhere, "chicks dig" many things. Ironically, the one thing chicks don't dig is being referred to as "chicks."
Since the voyeuristic thrill of peering into other people's lives through reality TV and weblogs is something we could already get each and every day when we're forced to overhear the loud cellphone conversations of thousands of rude people in public, I'm torn between concluding that either we really do care about who gets the million dollars, yammers, or mentally masturbates the most -- or that we just like having the power to turn it off.
The charming thing about pets is that they're smart. Yes, they do dumb, impulsive, terrible things, but afterwards they don't stick around.
At present, it's a statistical fact that more people in the world have had sex with dogs than have had sex with you or me. Now, I'm not one to use pickup lines but, if you are, then I know I'd be swept off my feet by someone who convinced me that together we could keep the dogs from winning.
It never hurts to remind people that some of us are just a tiny bit slow, and a smidge obnoxious, in order to keep them on their toes. This is achieved in the way that we like to have weak arguments and tenuous logical connections explained to us both carefully and in great detail, and the fact that we are rude enough to insist.
And if you ever again believe anyone who hails the neo-liberal virtues of an
unfettered free market system, well boy do I have some hot stocks for you.
In keeping with other conservative rhetoric, I insist that in the Enron, WorldCom,
Xerox, and Martha Stewart cases we make the punishment fit the crime.
Personally, I suspect capitalism might behave itself a bit better if we simply made
corporate crimes punishable by death, instead of fining executives a fraction of
what they pilfered in the first place.
Of all the qualities we associate with leadership, ambition is the most common and least desirable.
Hell hath no fury like a North American who has been slightly inconvenienced.
As near as I can tell, Dilbert cartoons are a fragile panacea that dissolve
just enough workplace frustration to prevent the millions of people who really do
hate their jobs, despise office politics, and loathe their bosses, from showing up
to work with a gun or a chainsaw, and slaughtering the masses of gossipy, lazy,
incompetent pinheads they must work with every day. Or, at the very least,
quitting.
I am not convinced this is a good thing.
Arguing whether a PC is superior to a Macintosh makes about as much sense as whether having a penis is better than having a vagina. Smart people recognize the advantages and delights of playing with both.
Like monsters, advertising can't get you if you don't believe in it. People are
paid to lie to you every day, and they win when you don't notice. For instance,
despite their claims to be "real fruit beverages," most fruit drinks contain 10%
real juice or less, and more calories than beer.
So the next time you see fruit dancing on the screen during a Fruitopia commercial,
forget what anyone tells you about lawyers and remember: no one is less honest than
the bastards in marketing.
Oh, Courtney... why couldn't you have murd- I mean, married, Eminem instead?
Forgive the pundits, wags, critics, and talking heads for their simplistic quips and lopsided analyses. You'll do anything for a paycheque too.
I'll say this for vegans: they make a difficult and principled choice, and stick to it with passion and dedication despite all the derision they face in a society that regards meat lover's pizzas and high-speed internet connections as symbols of conviction and commitment.
If they'd suddenly asked you how to properly use an apostrophe in a sentence before they handed you your new driver's license, high school diploma, or bachelor's degree, would you even be where you are today?
It is a welcome visitor and a ruthless intruder, depending on where it goes and who it visits. It can be a toy, an object of desire and a blunt weapon. It can wander, stray, and cause division, although it's always in the same place. It can be hard to come by, yet difficult to share. It may cause bleeding. It may cause yearning. It may cause tears. I do not believe any one thing can be responsible for both more pleasure and more pain than the human penis.
What people mean when they complain about Political Correctness: "A request to
apply the Golden Rule (do unto others as you would have them do unto you) which the
speaker finds unwelcome, usually because of the risk of suffering personal
inconvenience, expense, or guilt."
What people mean when they call themselves Politically Incorrect: "bad manners,
selfishness, and occasional bigotry, when marketed as a lifestyle that some people
just aren't cool enough to get."
--
Louann Miller. Quoted with permission.
Strangely, while both meat and fur are murder, they only call you a criminal when you make sweet love to the animal first.
Anyone whose life can be changed by books like "The Celestine Prophecy" obviously hasn't been reading enough books.
Insects have the right idea. Whatever your colour, religion, or orientation, whether you call yourself a "womyn" or a goth -- we're all the same, because we're all food.
Forgive every broken promise like it was the first. Savour every kiss as though it were the last.
Don't worry about the babies that are never born. Care for the ones that are.
Perhaps when Osama Bin Laden is finally dead, it will once again be safe for freedom-loving people all over the world to completely despise Americans.
Cultural tolerance and inclusiveness is most widely criticized by those who were included first.
With spending a patriotic duty, will freedom from poverty someday be a right?
We all like to think that we've got more sense than to pay a loud and opinionated compulsive liar $50 a month just to be our friend. Then the cable bill comes in.
I'd go into comic book stores more often if they weren't full of the sort of people who already do.
You should spend no more time complaining about your life than it would take for you to discover the story of someone who has it much, much worse.
When you develop a sense of humour about your gender, sexuality, race and beliefs, I'll develop one about mine.
Whether they're listening to heavy metal music while having noisy, screaming sex, or arguing like crazed animals at 3 in the morning, your loud, white trash neighbors are still cheaper late-night entertainment than a new TV.
Our billions of ancestors, who lived their whole lives alongside death, disease and filth because they lacked the indescribable luxuries of flush toilets and running water, would undoubtedly be amazed to know that most people nowadays still can't even be bothered to flush the toilet or wash their hands.
There are better things to spank than your kids.
In fact, the real difference between men and boys is where they like to put their toys.
Birthdays are like poison cupcakes. You can only have so many before you're dead.
To bedazzle your boss, you don't need superhuman speed; you just need to figure out the minimum work required to outperform the dumb bastards around you.
When an ad has to boast that what they're selling is legal, it's not.
The black market for human organs is growing every day. For this reason, never forget that even the dumbest and most infuriating people who wear you down on the internet have an inherent value as human beings that makes them eminently worthy of your respect and compassion -- especially when sold for parts.
Most people think they're excellent drivers. Most people also think they're fantastic in bed. Finally, most people think they're intelligent. It's because we are already so thoroughly convinced of these things that they aren't more often true.
We can afford either new schools or new prisons, and since it's no coincidence that in the absence of one, the other will always fill up, we'd better choose wisely.
One thing that engineers aren't taught to build is a sentence.
Perhaps people who do not vote, like Diogenes, have decided to spend their lives searching for an honest candidate.
What consenting adults choose to do in the privacy of their own bedrooms isn't worth watching half the time.
There are a million things that you don't know. That doesn't make them secrets.
Call me a sissy, but I think that it's a fundamental lack of appreciation for priorities like backrubs and honesty that prevents us from wiping road rage, air rage and office rage right off the face of the earth, as well as all the other overindulgent snits and temper tantrums known to man.
Eminem's freedom to express himself as a misogynistic, homophobic idiot is the most important thing in the world when millions of people want to pay $20 for his CD, but just you try downloading his "artistic expression" for free with Napster.
If your life is so dull and unfulfilling that it's actually a high point to spy on the dull, unfulfilling lives of stupid people clutching desperately at the only fame they'll ever know in the contrived, predictable, money-driven antfarm of so-called "Reality TV," well, all I can say is: you deserve each other.
Every mother secretly lives for the day she can tell her daughter "I told you so."
The word "fact" has become the adult diaper of modern language, catching and containing all the stupid, ridiculous, loose, unfounded and messy thoughts that lazily trickle from our brains, wrapping them up safely in an assertive statement in the expectation that no one else will possibly want to look too deeply inside.
You can warm more hearts by going door to door selling cookies than you can selling religions.
For one hundred dollars you can buy sex, drugs, or murder. You can buy another human's dignity. You cannot buy shoes.
Whatever doesn't kill you probably needs to be larger.
Generally speaking, the most horrible betrayals and violent crimes are committed by people who already know us quite well -- which sometimes makes me wonder whether it's saner just to make the whole world into complete strangers.
What kind of example does a show like "Survivor" set for our kids? All it shows them is that to get ahead in life you have to blindly follow a lot of artificial rules, you can't kill anyone, you can't eat anyone, and all you can look forward to is the vague hope that at the end someone magically hands you a cheque for a million dollars. That's the problem with kids today. No one's teaching them how to win.
It doesn't matter how old you get. It always hurts, and it always gets better someday, but until it does you think it never will.
People who expect you to care what they think matter the very least.
Time can't heal anything that you keep picking open.
There's nothing sadder than a person who obstinately believes he or she knows it all. It's better to be the thoughtful person who admits there's always going to be so much more left to know, and yet earnestly tries to learn it.
If cellular phones weren't good enough for Jesus, then they're not good enough for me.
Remember, if you smile, no one will suspect you.
Hiding from a mistake only requires weakness. Learning from a regret requires integrity and strength.
Lawyers deserve some credit. We complain that they're dishonest and greedy, but we're the ones who hire them. Lawyers clean up our messes, and at our behest they inflict misery upon anyone we consider an enemy. They exist because we can't live our lives decently. I'm not sure it's lawyers who are the problem.
People who "don't watch television" aren't as clever as they think. How can you see the world outside by closing the windows?
Justice is like good oral sex: you must give it to others to receive it yourself.
Show me a talking dog that promises to cut taxes, and I'll show you the winner of the next election.
A warning label is just a cheerful way of saying that stupidity is the most lethal weapon known to man.
Everyone has a jar overflowing with pennies at home, yet on the street nobody ever seems to have any spare change.
Rationalization is the novocaine of a guilty heart.
The average person has more in common with a serial killer than she does with the CEO of a large corporation. We've all fantasized about killing someone, but nobody normal likes laying people off.
Hate isn't the opposite of love. Hate can keep you warm at night, too.
Linguists tell us that when popular culture changes the grammar and meanings of English words, it is pure snobbishness to prefer the old, "right" way of spelling and saying things. But I don't think linguists would be so keen to embrace shifts in modern English if the new word for linguists was shifted to "dorkwads."
There are so many things we wouldn't know even if they bit us in the ass that I bet I could bite the asses of everyone I hated and never be picked out of a lineup.
Nobody knows the law better than criminals.
Loneliness would be the world's oldest profession, if it paid.
You can buy love, but you can't beg for it in the streets. Frigid capitalists.
Time isn't money. You can beat someone up and take his money, but there's no beating in the world that can give you back the good times once they're gone.
If only McDonalds would do society the good service of cooking up celebrities, day traders and entertainment industry lowlifes, we could finally and forever rid the world of hunger... and Gwyneth Paltrow.
This New Year's Eve, get it right. Find the person you love most, cuddle naked under the blankets, and let the world burn for all you care.
If Christmas were a drug, it would be an expensive, depressing drug that made
you feel angry and lonely and guilty and suicidal. It would put you in debt and
make you feel like a failure for not being able to buy more. The side effects would
include anxiety, weight gain and hearing the same terrible music over and over in
your head.
If Christmas were a drug, no one would use it. That's how bad Christmas is.
People who lie are more popular.
When you consider that animals don't kill for pleasure, animals don't judge, they don't have shareholders, and they don't lie, you begin to understand why we're in such a hurry to eat them.
Whether you hate a sappy, obvious marketing ploy like Jar Jar Binks, or
love even more insipid and obvious marketing ploy like a Pikachu, you
can't tell me that if either one of the horrible things ran into your house, you
wouldn't scream and try to kill it.
Personally, if I wanted obnoxiously cute things telling me how to spend my money,
I'd have children.
If arts courses are so easy, then why don't the people who make fun of arts students do better in them?
If you only know a few things, the world may look silly to you, but just imagine how you look to the world.
It's tragic that the first thing we notice about a person usually matters the
least.
The example would be meeting a person wearing a t-shirt with the phrase "I love
Marxist theory" stretched across her enormous breasts. I don't care how much
you love breasts -- Marxist theorists are jerks.
The people who never thought about the killer enough to be suspicious are usually the ones who had it coming.
People say "I'm sorry" all the time and for all kinds of reasons. It doesn't mean they'll change.
Wanting a person too much can hurt as much as not wanting them nearly enough.
Whoever said "there are some things money can't buy" probably wasn't rich.
Cat ear medicine has about as much to do with the intolerance, ignorance, violence and greed cursing society today as right-wing Christian Fundamentalism has to do with curing the ailments of a cat's ear.
Jar Jar Binks makes a daily routine of stepping in animal feces, being a worse
shot than both a battle droid and a stormtrooper, uttering incoherent but
ridiculous babble at the most inopportune moments, and helplessly giving up when
things start looking grim. To top it all off, he's not even very attractive.
The awful truth is that, deep down, Jar Jar reminds each and every one of us of
ourselves, and that is why we hate him.
The proliferation of voyeur websites suggests that it is really no longer safe
to shower, change, suntan, try on an outfit, wear a skirt, have sex indoors, have
sex outdoors, go to the beach, bend over, trip, visit a friend for a day or two, go
to the bathroom, break up with someone, play with yourself, walk past your window,
fall asleep, get drunk, wear less than two layers of clothing, appear in public, or
let your guard down for even one second. To do otherwise pretty much means you'll
be all over the internet the next morning.
In fact, the only thing left that you really can do without fear anymore is look
at voyeur websites.
Politeness aside, it is my observation that the best reason for not staring hungrily at the breasts of complete strangers is that they'll never smile at you unexpectedly if you do.
For whatever you thought of the Phantom Menace, isn't it comforting to know that George Lucas sleeps more restfully than ever atop a gigantic pile of money as he dreams up the next two movies? Having seen it six times myself, I like to think that he even kisses some of my money goodnight each evening before falling into the most peaceful sleep mortal man has ever known.
Name one right or privilege you now enjoy, and then name one corporate or
religious power who gave it to you.
Today's conservative institutions are yesterday's liberal ideas.
There are people in the world you don't see very often. We all miss some
special, wonderful person, and every now and then you will see a face in the crowd
which for just one moment lifts your heart and reminds you of someone you used to
love. Every time it happens to me, I have to stop and stare and take a second good
long look, just to be sure.
That's why it doesn't bother me too much when people stare at me.
Smart leaders know: alcohol makes you belligerent, surly and destructive,
whereas marijuana leaves you complacent, forgetful and stupid. That's why
conservative governments must ultimately fail, and why my successful bid to take
over the world rests in the hands of increasingly futile and insulting public
service announcements and the fruit of yet another long growing season this
year.
I'm coming for you, Mike Harris.
For the next election, I am going to nominate the first brutally efficient army of unfeeling robots I find. Unaffected by human emotions like greed, ambition, prejudice, fear and lust, it is ironic that only heartless robots are capable of forming a government which truly cares about people. Plus they would probably win the devastating war they must otherwise wage to seize control of our human government anyway.
There are a lot of obvious differences between George Lucas and Adolf Hitler.
George Lucas wasn't the evil mastermind behind the extermination of millions of
human lives, for one, and Hitler had only one testicle. However, many
similarities exist, too. Hitler might have lead Germany to victory in World War
2, but for the fact the exclusive creative control he wielded resulted in the
creation of myopic national policies and foolhardy battlefield tragedies -- and
in the same way George Lucas scripted some mighty sloppy dialogue. In the end,
the consequences of these over-indulgences are that we live in a free world and
don't speak German, and I'm probably only going to see Episode 1 in the theatres
two or three more times this summer. Possibly four.
Perhaps we can all learn something from Hitler's mistakes.
Jesus wouldn't judge.
The most boring people are the most easily bored.
To answer the question of how I manage, day by day, to refrain from snapping and savagely murdering all who oppose me in new and more sickeningly creative ways, I can only say that if I were angry all the time, I couldn't be happy.
If you really insist on behaving like an asshole, I honestly don't see how you can be surprised to wind up covered in shit.
If God had meant for people to annoy me through their obsessions with anime, Beanie Babies, or the welfare of my immortal soul, He wouldn't have invented abortions.
The sweetest music in the world is the delicate sound of a pretentious wanker being punched in the nose.
I think they should put a disclaimer on the packaging of a laser pointer which clearly reads in enormous letters: "Caution: Prolonged use of a laser pointer may cause you to become an asshole."
If my love puts you up on a pedestal out of my reach, your love gives me wings.
To the small creatures that eat tiny pieces of us each and every day, all
humans, everywhere, are eminently useful. How wonderful and optimistic a
perspective this is, when you can benefit countless organisms simply by scratching
dead skin cells from your itchy ass.
Step two in evolution is to think of more than your ass.
If you ask someone to tell you what they believe, they usually will. If you ask someone to justify what they believe, they usually can't.
If I were a cat, I'd be an enormous, mean, one-eyed cat that hated other
cats.
If I were a poet...
On the other hand, it's probably good that I never get anything I really want, because I always want sharp, pointy things.
Each and every last one of us believes deep down, perhaps secretly, that we're better than someone else. So please do get over yourself and remember not to act surprised or offended when you discover to your horror that someone else thinks they're better than you.
I'm not sure why it's good to compare something to the fun potential of "a
barrel of monkeys." Like, "Scrabble is more fun than a barrel of monkeys!"
Actually a barrel of monkeys would have to be the most terrifying thing, ever.
Imagine prying off the top of the barrel, only to see six pairs of eyes glinting
from the darkness, fixated with fury upon you and nothing else. All you can smell
is monkey semen, sprayed everywhere from hours and hours of their combined total
masturbation. The monkeys are matted and sticky, cold and wet, the fresh air and
light causes them to start screaming and howling at you. They're extremely hungry,
and hideously angry, and you've just let them free.
That's when the lead monkey leaps into the air and starts smashing your skull with
the very crowbar you freed him with.
Now what could be less fun than that?
Imagine how much more wonderful the world would be if men stopped hating women, women stopped hating men, whites stopped hating blacks, blacks stopped hating Jews, nations stopped hating nations and religions stopped hating religions -- and instead everyone came together in peace and harmony to loathe and destroy only those names on my ever-growing list of enemies.
"Happy endings" are something of a misnomer, because an ending lacks the potential for happiness of a sustained rut.
Not to put too fine a point on it, but the usage of the word "womyn" actually offends more people than the etymology of "woman" ever did.
I mean, I'm glad that at least I have no phobias about irony, because, man, I bet I wouldn't even be able to think about leaving my house in the morning without automatically wetting the bed.
Devils are no more to blame for human unhappiness than angels are to be praised for a pan of fresh cupcakes.
If you don't believe in God, and you're right, you lose nothing.
If you don't believe in God, and you're wrong, you go to hell.
If you do believe in God, and you're wrong, you lose nothing.
If you do believe in God, and you're right, you go to heaven.
So, as Pascal's wager goes, your "best bet" is to believe in God.
The classical refutation to Pascal's wager is simply that God will doubtlessly
know that your belief is a matter of selfish personal interest, and may not even be
sincere -- and isn't the idea of presuming to trick God more of an offense
against Him than not believing in Him at all?
And even if your clever ruse does work, how does it feel to be a liar? So
much for morality.
Most human problems can be cured with a sufficiently liberal application of dynamite. When you consider how many unpleasant side effects modern psychoactive pharmaceuticals have, I'm surprised it isn't prescribed more often.
Someday you will fade and you realize that now you are dying. It is then, no longer strong or beautiful, that you see how utterly insignificant you really are, regretting everything you ever did, as the centre of your universe, to hurt someone. But then you're dead, so what good were you?
If I had a nickel for every time someone tried to sell me their god, their specially revealed truth, and their ticket to eternal enlightenment -- I could start my own religion.
The right person would be flattered by a gift of shiny pieces of glass, painted blue, so long as it came from your heart. The wrong person would scoff at the moon.
My university dyes its water blue. The impression I get is that the big water
fountain gushes forth a mighty plume of blue foam into a reflecting pool of
hygienic blue liquid because someone in administration decided that if you dye
water blue, then it looks more like water.
The cuts my university keeps making to its arts programs cause me increasing
concern.
In the time required on average for you to condemn a person who fails to
satisfy your religious, moral, or personal expectations, another of your brain
cells is irreplaceably lost.
Although there isn't a direct relationship between these two facts, it does
make one wonder if perhaps there might not be something better you could be doing
with the brain cells you have left.
Goths and jocks both probably hate the way you look, and even if the jocks are the ones who actually beat the gender out of you, at least they're honest about it.
Most people don't realize that while we sit and moon and pine and wish for the love of someone unattainable, there is often also someone wishing and praying and pining for us.
The difference between humans and robots is that robots will ultimately
turn on their creators and destroy the human race, whereas all we'll do is
beg God for mercy while they're splitting open our skulls and digitizing our
babies.
See you in church, suckers.
Our skeletons are not the part of us that fall in love, or think, or touch when we have sex, or nurse a baby. But in the end they're all that remain.
To explain why I hate Hollywood, let's compare the summer blockbuster "Armageddon" with, say, any porno movie ever made. Both feature ridiculous plots, horrible acting, lame, cheesy dialogue and perhaps the worst, token, soundtracks you'll ever hear. The only difference is that one has a lot of naked people having lots of loud, messy sex, and the other is about asteroids destroying the earth. I hope you feel pretty silly for spending that $8.50 now.
The average woman requires a mean of about seventeen minutes of stimulation to reach orgasm. Dividing a single day up into 84.7 screaming orgasms is such a pleasant thought for me that quite frankly it makes me wonder why anybody ever does anything else at all.
Religion and philosophy are essentially expressions of a fear that life has no meaning. A naked person waiting for me in bed is all the beauty I need to know the answer of the smarter ultimate question, which is whether or not life has value.
People might be more humble if they spent a couple of minutes each day thinking about the fact that most likely they were conceived under the pretense of a faked orgasm.
On top of everything else, homophobia also means that you'd have to be disgusted if you were tied up and forced to watch two women having sex, and I think that's just sad.
And even if there were a God, it would be a sorry God indeed if He cared
more about who my soul belonged to, or how many times I masturbated each night,
over how freely I gave of myself, or how many lives I've changed, or how the world
is at all better for my having been in it.
Save your souls from yourselves.
The Volkswagen Beetle only exists at all because Hitler wanted to
develop a reliable, mass-production car which could be afforded by the masses. He
personally designed it. I guess it would be kind of like if Satan had invented the
Macintosh. All it takes is a lot of petty, stupid, middle-aged hippies with money,
power, and a fear of growing old to reduce your magnum opus of evil into
this cute, cuddly bastion of strained hipness.
Hitler must be spinning in his grave.
I like how on Star Trek, whenever there's a piece of equipment that isn't working properly, all they have to do to infuse it with miraculous abilities which dramatically affect the plot is to "reverse the polarity." But even in real life that's kind of true. Take an ordinary hammer. If you reverse the polarity on an ordinary hammer, you get the claw end. And while maybe that doesn't allow you to escape into the mirror universe, I haven't heard of the problem yet which couldn't be easily solved by splitting a man's skull open and running like a bastard.
I bet that if you actually were hit by a bus while crossing the street,
you'd be so horribly squashed and bloody and soaked in the many messy contents of
your body that you could have the dirtiest pair of underwear in the world
on, and no one would ever know.
So there, mom.
While I sat and tried to think of a really good Viagra joke, I'm sure I experienced what would otherwise be a small fortune in effortless erections, and -- really -- that's funny enough for me.
Everyone likes to talk about how evil and unstoppable Bill Gates is, but no
ones talks about mailing his ears to his horrified family until your obscene ransom
demands are met.
I like Bill Gates, but I hate amateurs.
Paying someone to write your web page for you is a lot like flying to Bangkok to have sex with a child prostitute. Sure, everybody's doing it, but I don't have to be able to create a spinny animated gif that lights up when you move your mouse over it to know that you're still a goddamn pedophile.
In the sense that so many people who do write poetry are absolutely horrible poets, it is entirely possible to be a great poet having never written a word.
Anyone else who thinks a "Scoobie Snack" was a pot brownie should really raise their hand.
Perhaps we shouldn't spend so much time debating whether or not Jesus Christ was truly resurrected or not, as much as whether he'll be able to successfully pull it off again. I mean, I really liked the first Crow movie, but he really should have stayed down.
An engineering graduate could probably design a tank, but only a liberal arts student could use it to take over the world.
If you can't think of anything clever to say, shut up and punch someone in the face.
Generally the hardest shoes to fill belong to the person who was shot for filling them in the first place.
Keeping in mind that a Zippo lighter is like porn to a pyromaniac, I only let people use mine if I feel up to washing my hands afterwards.
Medical science is a good thing, but I think hospitals should be much more wary of the laws of natural selection. For instance, if you show up with your penis in a bucket of ice, they should ask you "So, why is your penis in a bucket of ice?" before they decide whether or not to sew it back on.
I guess the reason I don't believe in anarchy is that, in an anarchy, the anarchists themselves would actually count as "the weak." They'd be the ones robbed, murdered, raped and eaten by "the strong" -- who are, so long as there is a system to keep them there, currently inside prisons.
You can find me on the internet by plugging "manic depression" into a search
engine, as well as other terms like "freak," or "mean," or "abandonment anxieties".
You will, however, never be able to find me by typing in the words "really
cool."
Whatever web page "really cool" will take you to, though, I still bet he
really sucks in bed.
Cemeteries are the most peaceful places on earth. On especially quiet days, you can hear earthworms chewing on people you most probably wouldn't have liked anyways.
I think there should be a rule in Scrabble that if you can seduce, or kill, your opponent with all seven of your letters, then you win the game.
You can't have the freedom of religion without the freedom from religion.
Swank Magazine, Christianity, and the Spice Girls may seem completely different but, then again, I can't tell the difference between natural and artificial maple syrup, and they didn't degrade women.
If Lex Luthor were really smart, he'd slip a Kryptonite condom into Lois Lane's purse.
Crucifixion only rarely involves having nails and swords thrust your limbs. It
is a widely neglected fact that when tied up to a cross with your arms splayed out
above your head and your legs tucked in, that you die from suffocation, with no
additional assistance required. I can't help but think, crucifixion can't be any
better than being smothered with a pillow, drowned, or strangled, all of which are
easier and less time consuming than cutting down the wood, nailing and roping it
together, carrying it, erecting it, and tying someone to it.
Which goes to prove, Jesus was inefficient.
You can spend three thousand dollars on a Pentium II with a 21-inch monitor and
a five gigabyte hard drive, and until your friend one-ups you with his
phallic extension upgrade next year, you can enjoy your fleeting penile
adequacy. I'm going to spend $120 on a Kong Dong from the gay porn store, work a
strap-on harness over my jeans, and sodomize the fear of God into anyone who tries
to impress me with their toys.
That kind of cock is forever.
Christmas has, for good or evil, essentially become a battle between Jesus and Santa Claus. I can't tell you which side to choose, but let's just say I don't see Jesus coughing up any Millennium Falcons.
"A more unnatural way to deliver sweet nothings to the philosophical engine of
the human mind there has not been devised since garbage cans learned to
talk!"
-- Mr. Moody, on Symbolic Logic
You can't squeeze blood from a stone, so I use hamsters.
I think more mass-murderers should spend their time killing only psychic helpers. Not because they deserve to die or anything -- but just to prove a point; I mean, they never saw that coming!
The reason internet commerce will fail is that it relies on the assumption that people don't actually want doctored photos of Gillian Anderson having sex with a dog at age eleven in the first place.
If God had meant for man to worship Him, He wouldn't have given us brains.
Regret is a time machine just waiting to happen.
When I build my time machine, I'm going to head to ancient Greece, learning
just enough Greek to be able to find Plato, and say "Hey! Are you Plato? Yeah?
Well, you know what? You're a big nutty nut! You're a fig newton!"
and then I'd whip fig newtons at him until he ran away out of shame and
bruising.
With a time machine, philosophy, like history and opportunity, will be my
bitch.
If I were an action star, my airtight philosophical rebuttal to a solipsist argument would be to whip out two handguns, fill the room with blazing death, and then stiffly say "No, you don't exist!"
I like aliens particularly because of the marketable success their ovoid little heads have been. If you can kidnap, gas, zap, anally probe and otherwise violate the human race and still be regarded as cute and benign while the government is perceived as the real enemy, then you deserve to take over the world.
Spitting or swallowing isn't so much the issue that defines love for me as much as the fact that someone is for even a second willing to entertain the dubious thought of my genitals belonging in their mouth in the first place.
The essential difference between a Tamagotchi and an addiction is that you can't break an addiction with a hammer.
If it looks like a vampire, talks like a vampire, bites like a vampire, but
lives in its parents' basement, it probably isn't a vampire.
In your master's voice: wav file.
The true test of a friendship is how well it can survive someone's love.
Children are fun because their parents never believe you're under the bed.
Something that I would point out to the American people, were I the President
of the United States, is that while God may have essentially created the Earth in
seven days, it would be in my power to unleash my own form of Raputurous nuclear
armageddon, and blow it all up several times over in about half an hour. That, in
fact, I was bigger than God.
Christianity is like a Tamagotchi. It's way more fun when you screw with it.
It would probably be more accurate to say that while you certainly can lead a horse to water, surprisingly more people are killed trying to have sex with one than you might think.
People will often forgive a person who, stranded and starving, resorts to cannibalism -- but just you try to convince someone to eat the end piece of a loaf of bread instead of digging way into the back.
They obviously couldn't make the next Batman movie any worse. So I think
Batman's next arch-villain should be this evil fiend, who is afraid of tights, and
instead of constantly plotting nefarious schemes to destroy the city or kill
Batman, he actually just spends his hours constructing ingenious plans to help win
back his ex-girlfriends, foiled in some way by Batman.
They could name him Rob.
From the perspective of monkeys, we must all seem like gods. We provide bananas
and amusement and electric shocks. But as gods, it is our duty to the monkeys to
make them wear diapers and roller skates, to shoot them into space, and
periodically dissect them.
Fortunately for irony, mankind has religion too.
It could just be the artificially induced crankiness of withdrawal, or a vitamin deficiency or something, or perhaps I just hate Scientologists, but honestly, the next person that says "Show me the money!" gets it right in the ass.
I don't remember now what it was called, or how I could possibly get one, but it was beautiful in a sort of shiny black way, and before he put it back under his coat, it had somehow made you hiccup and love me in a way you'd not quite ever managed before, and was therefore possibly the most amazing invention I had ever seen.
The lighter side of lice examinations is having someone play with your hair.
The troubling part of conspiracy theories is that, ultimately, someone has to
start them. And, hey, you never know, maybe there's actually someone
starting a lot of them. In fact, maybe all of the world's conspiracy
theories have indeed been masterminded by just one sinister person.
And since that is, in its own ironic way, a conspiracy theory, then by my own
logic, obviously the person in charge of conspiracy theories everywhere is --
me.
Happy Canada Day.
Here's a nifty number -- wav file.
Sometimes people call me a monster which, OK, maybe I've earned, but I do like to point out that the difference between myself and monsters is that monsters like children.
The average male chimpanzee requires only thirty seconds of stimulation before
reaching orgasm.
With that in mind, let me just say that nothing, but nothing, impresses
people more than by just casually mentioning you can last ten times longer than an
ape in bed.
The extent of people's neurotic repression is such that a woman can mow her
lawn topless, and have that event warrant its own article in the newspaper, but I
could mow my lawn bare-ass naked, and all that would happen to me
would be that the By-Law enforcers would snatch me away, and I'd never be heard
from again.
Reference: In Ontario, women can now legally bare their breasts, and now
whenever someone does, the Ottawa Citizen makes a point of writing a little article
describing when and where it happened.
It's pretty safe to assume that just about anything you think up has already
been thought of by someone else. So there are almost definitely people who really
are taking any job they possibly can, with the single intent of using every
substance their bodies produce to get fired as quickly as possible.
I mean, I still eat fast food -- but never without wondering.
The greatest things in life involve cleaning afterwards.
When a million dollar supercomputer specifically built and programmed to play
chess, and only play chess, narrowly manages to defeat Gary Kasparov by a margin of
two wins to one win to three draws, it is hailed as the end of chess as we know it,
and the beginning of the reign of computers over man. But if I got my ass kicked on
my 386 with Battlechess, it wouldn't even warrant a space in the classified
ads.
I think the moral of the story is, as always, that journalists are the real
enemy, and we should team up with the computers to destroy them.
I'm not convinced that the addiction to television remote controls is strictly a male thing, but certainly they are the most prominent phallic symbol in the modern household. Nothing else fits quite so well in the palm of one's hand, and even I admit that I like the idea of being able to shoot something that is across the room with one.
People like to make jokes about Artoo Detoo's relationship with See Threepio, but I think that's just denial in action. After all, they weren't the ones locked in a small Corellian freighter treating their wookiee like a bitch.
I've decided that, in spite of my hairy tummy, I'm going to break my way into the pornographic movie industry. By completely undercutting the competition, I shall become the world's greatest porn star, working for no fee whatsoever. After all: why buy the hotdog if you can get the mustard for free?
Kurt Cobain isn't dead -- he and John Lennon are sitting in a small space
station orbiting the earth, waiting for something cool to happen.
And it's your fault they're still up there, you boring
bastards.
Scientists made a frog float this week using magnetic fields. I bet right now
they're all muttering to themselves "And they called us MAD!" before laughing maniacally in poorly lit parts of the
laboratory.
I think I may like to become that kind of scientist.
Some people like to make fun of the practice of inserting live gerbils into the
rectum for sexual stimulation, or of people who have sex with cattle, or horses, or
dogs... but in the end, I think this just says that what they're really
afraid of is love.
At least, I am.
It's Easter everywhere but in my soul.
To a large extent, the internet is a bathroom wall.
The moral lesson of St. Patrick's Day is that you can do whatever you like, no matter how vile or illegal, so long as you do it in a green hat.
If you're a big stupid jock who used to regularly beat up a girl half your
size, and then someday you get really drunk and stoned and at a spirit day at
school you jump into a field full of slippery foam and rowdy schoolmates and then
you break your neck, well, good.
A true story...
You can blame everything you want, and hate everyone you want, but in the end, you're one of them too.
The little warning labels on cigarette packages are only as effective as the lack of resolve in the belief each human secretly holds that he or she is, in fact, from a race of immortals.
Hamsters have fewer uses than you think. Squirrels, however are forever hiding
nuts. When a squirrel forgets about where it has concealed the nuts, dies, or is
killed and eaten, the nuts can germinate and become trees.
Whenever I see a tree now, I have to laugh.
Women are like strawberries. I mean, actually they're more like people but I don't know, I really like strawberries too. Oh -- no, broccoli. Broccoli has to be the best food ever. So I guess women are like broccoli.
There seems to be a fair deal made about the fact that, having the use of such
a multidirectional hose of a urethra as comes equipped with the penis, that men can
urinate wherever and whenever they wish. However, I say to you, oh my sisters, that
this is not to be bemoaned, and indeed I can point out at least one major
disadvantage.
Men, in public washrooms, tend to feel that their flexibility somehow gives them
license to go pretty crazy with the purpose and direction by which they relieve
themselves, because after all, it's not their bathroom, and they don't have to
clean it.
A major distinction between mankind and the animal kingdom is that animals
generally are disposed towards figuring out where and how, exactly, they can answer
their own particular calls from nature.
Kellogg's Cornflakes were initially developed by the 7th Day Adventists as a way to lower the human sex drive. For good or bad, I'm glad my breakfasts typically consist of dinner.
Eat a salad. Walk the dog. Make a baby. Play God. Be happy. Drink Pepsi. Cut the grass. Get a job. Give blood. Take your white t-shirt over to a dance bar. Buy underage kids cigarettes. Or don't. Smile at old people. Play Bingo. ANYTHING. Just get out of my way.
People always say they 'slept like a baby,' when you ask them how they slept, except that babies probably aren't the models of sound sleeping. Generally they drool an awful lot and wake up in 6 hours, soaked in their own urine.
If I had a lot of oxen, I'd be sexy in some cultures.
True story. I knew this guy, and every Christmas his father would do an insane death dance, completely naked and full of rye, until he stumbled in a vomitous heap under the Christmas tree, always waiting for something until he crawled away just before dawn and stayed in bed till dinner. My friend's mother always said it was because he caught her kissing Santa Claus, but all I know is that mall Santas look more like pedophiles, and my father was a jolly man.
Bugs have a funny way of just watching you whenever you're doing something stupid or unhealthy, as if they're waiting for something. Like their shot at world domination. I can't even turn on the TV anymore without getting seriously creeped out.
Money can't buy everything, but it can buy guns. And you can get all kinds of things with a gun.
I laughed and laughed all year long at all those people in suburbia who never
bothered to take their ugly Christmas lights down, and then today while putting
ours back up, the house across the street just plugged theirs back in and went
inside, and all I can say to those apples is:
You've won this battle, clever people across the street,
but tomorrow I'm going to teach your children how to eat bugs. Little
creepy bugs. And mice. And then I'm going to teach them to smoke. And start fires.
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
If aliens from a distant civilization visited earth and offered mankind
knowledge regarding either the secret of repairing the hole in the ozone layer or
the ultimate sex position, there would be a lot of happy people out there.
With skin cancer.
Generation X is a popular term ubiquitously applied to anyone under the
age of twenty five, when in fact the defined age group of anyone belonging to
"Generation X" is among those born between about 1959 and 1970. The problem began
when journalists caught onto the suddenly fashionable notion, and wrote about a
book most of them hadn't read, but rather had only heard something about, or maybe
skimmed.
So I think I'm safe in suggesting that the next time anyone looks at your weird
hair or black clothes, or creative machinations, and just shrugs you off for
whatever you believe in happening to be a big huge part of that magical
Generation X, you should go out and bite the first person who even smells
like a journalist.
Nothing fires the imagination of others quite so much as a mysterious stain.
The surgical procedure used to removed stupidity from the brain is called a gun.
The worst part about fame is that everyone sees your picture on the news, and since they know about you, they can so easily get away.
If someone would only start running commercials for a pain relief medication that began: "Damn humans! Now I've got another stupidity-induced headache!" man, I know I'd buy a lot of whatever that was.
You won't even know what the most beautiful and perfect thing in your world is while you have it, and that is why you will lose it.
Statistically speaking, people who have an IQ of 130 or higher are more intelligent than about 95 percent of the population. Not that this should be used to influence anyone's in life in any way, but it makes me feel a bit better when I get up on my little soapbox or grassy hill, and gesture broadly across the horizon, shouting "You're all idiots!"
The world is a public forum. Carry more chalk.
(Dedicated to the inspired individual who chalked out their intelligent
philosophies on AIDS all over campus...)
People made up of antimatter may be all well and good, but just you wait until one wants to marry your daughter and make the universe implode!
There's a certain look you get on your face when you trip and stumble in
public. When you get up, you look around right away to see who, exactly, might have
seen you. This is the very same look on the face of a man who has just stepped out
from a porn shop.
Make sure you waggle your eyebrows as you pass them by.
Whoever "Murphy," of Murphy's Law fame actually was, I'm going to bet for obvious reasons that he's probably dead, and if he's not then, man, I want some answers.
It is perhaps only after facing a room of horrible silence emanating from twenty or thirty pale people that we learn that actually honesty isn't the best policy.
When they outlawed cocaine, I said nothing. When they prohibited marijuana, I did nothing. When they forbade us heroin, hash, and morphine, I made no protest. But when they come for caffeine, I'll take as many of the bastards down with me as I can.
I know realistically I can't fly, but whenever people ask me why I look so sad, I tell them about the last time I checked.
Whenever I feel depressed and unhappy with myself, all I really have to do is
remind myself that statistically, four or five people each year die when they
attack Coke machines, which then fall on them.
And that's why I sing happy songs in the shower.
The craziest part of it all is, is that when I'm sitting here wishing that I could warn my past self about the stupid things I was about to do (thanks to the clarity of hindsight), there's some point in the future where I'm sitting there thinking "I wish I could warn that ignorant bastard, too!"
I met someone's mother the other day, and later she would say in response to the encounter: "He uses a lot of big words." For however she meant it, I think that's one of the coolest things anyone could ever say about me.
In the ignorant, an open mind can sometimes only be obtained with the judicious application of patience and a heavy, blunt, object.
Spending an entire day out with the words "Emergency Exit" written in bold green letters on the back of your wrist is really a little scary from the perspective of most people who would want to talk to you, but then, that would be the point.
I think real criminals should be like the villains from the original 1960's
Batman TV show. Each week another kooky and charming (but of course hideously evil)
guest villain should reign over the city, with a specific theme like the henchmen
wearing all green or the mysterious disappearance of all the city's creme-filled
pastries.
I for one would be a popular recurring character.
And, no, I'm not a doctor, but if I could write prescriptions in general, I'd have to say people aren't getting nearly enough of their daily dosage of snipers.
When I meet people, I'm less inclined to ask them what they're doing than what they wish they were doing. It is based on the imagination of this answer that I decide whether or not I want them to keep talking to me.
It is perhaps due to the fact that under "Objectives" on my resumes I state that I wish to conquer the world and enslave humanity, that I'm generally free to sleep in till four or five in the afternoon.
Happiness is: traveling back in time ten years so that you can beat yourself up and steal away all your old Star Wars toys before the little geek does something moronic like sell them.
Although I will most likely not live long enough to see the li'l baby tree I own grow large and old and wise, I do hope I can somehow train it well enough in my lifetime to ultimately devote itself to falling down on top of and killing someone.
Most things are harmful to children, because children are dumb.
Learning to cry on demand is the best escape clause in every awkward situation, and often makes the people around you feel like total crap.
Laughing at death might be something for cool people in beer commercials to do, but remember that when your turn comes, you'll most likely be squealing and writhing and begging for mercy, so don't get too cool there, cowboy.
If anyone scornfully asks you what kind of job you could possibly get studying
for an arts degree, just say "A Vampire! Hissssss!"
Most people don't believe in vampires, but a lot of them jump anyway.
If there's anything in the world you'd rather do than spend an hour in the arms of someone you love, kill yourself.
It is important to remember that you must eat anyone you see being mean to frogs.