Once upon a time in a land far away lived a beard named Bruno. This beard was so sad and cold for he had no where to lay his posterior. Made fun of by the other beards with faces to attach themselves to he decided that he would go on a voyage. With bits of left over mustache and neck trimmings the beard constructed a rocketship. He filled it with Sporting Waves pomade and boarded the ship.
Only two and a half days into the journey the ship ran out of pomade and crash landed. Bruno checked the navigational instruments and was immediately perplexed.
“Florida?! Oh whoa is me!” cried Bruno the Beard. “Florida fails so hard! I will never find a suitable face to be my host.”
Bruno exited the ship and walked dejected into the dark night. It was unusually cold and Bruno was tired so he broke into the next house he found and crawled onto what he thought was a pile of beef. Too tired to care he fell into a deep sleep.
Hertrech woke the next morning with a start. What a strange dream he thought to himself as he rubbed his eyes. He dropped to his knees to say his morning prayers “God you know I have been asking for a beard for quite sometime. But not just any beard. I need to be able to execute Haraguchi style drifts and smoky burnouts with ease so please find me a beard dripping with testosterone and chunks of dried tiger in it – Amen.”
He walked to the bathroom scratching his face still groggy. But something felt strange. He slammed the medicine cabinet shut and peered into the mirror. There was what appeared to be a black growth on his chin and cheeks. He ran to his bedroom grabbed his glasses and returned to the mirror fully awake. His heart started pounding as he inspected his face covered in hair. He pulled on it as drops of testosterone dripped into the sink. He felt power surge through his extremities.
Immediately Hertrech grabbed his keys and ran to the driveway. He plopped into his FC and started the engine. Smoke billowed from the rear wheels, women were cheering, men stood in ovation, old ladies hearing aids squealed as the smokiest burnout the world had ever seen played out before them.
The beard had found a home, and The Big Hert had become a man. Florida was saved.
This Thanksgiving I was unable to make it home due to my car catching on fire.
In protest I ignored all the invites of my friends to eat with them and their crazy families and worked fruitlessly in the freezing cold all day in efforts to stop the bleeding on my hooptie. Once I could no longer feel my feet or hands I went to find some food. But nothing containing turkey or yams because I was not thankful.
SURPRISINGLY there were no restaurants open. 7:30 Thanksgiving day and I could not find anywhere to fill my belly. But wait!! What’s this? As I crept down the block with cars overtaking me honking and raising their fingers in salutation I spied a glimmer of red light. CHECKERS! Yes. What better place to eat a meal in protest of this sorry day than Checkers. As I pulled to the faceless speaker board into which you speak your order I knew exactly what I wanted.
The meal that Leon Phelps made so famous, the fish sandwich. If you know anything about Checkers (and why would you not) you know that their fish sandwich is no normal sandwich. It has not one but two fish patties. Double the fun.
As I sat on my pleather couch watching a red box movie and smiling for the first time that day with a mouth full of what I hoped was codfish, I realized I was indeed thankful. I was thankful that those poor salty teenagers were forced by their slave master boss’ to work on this holiday long enough to make me a sandwich with not one but two fish patties, french fries, two apple pies and an Oreo milkshake.
And yes I put the fries in my sandwich.
Andy Warhol. Definitely a great artist. To me some of his best work was done on Bavarian metal.
Which led to homage being paid to his original. The latest one I know of is by Jeff Koons.
Early Christmas gift.
I found Lo Lo Jones’ website and I decided to kick game. I’m so smooth I don’t know how some PYT has not scooped me up yet…
“Will you please marry me? Seriously. I think we should do that. I am a virgin too. I smell good most of the time and I used to be an athlete as well. No where near as accomplished as you but I can out run small children and gentlemen with canes and walkers. I am of Jamaican descent. I hear that you are now training to be a bobsledder. Well I am not sure if you are familiar with Cool Runnin’s but Jamaicans know a thing or two about bob sledding. I am also good at hugging people when they are sad. When you were sad at the Olympics it made me sad. I wanted to hug you so you felt not as sad. You are cute even when you are sad. If you are not down with getting married to a man that you have never met I understand. We should at least meet up for a game of Uno and some cream soda. Good luck in the future Lo Lo. Take care of your face because it makes people happy, at least it makes me happy. I imagine it makes others happy as well.”
I got a response almost right away! She is thinking about my proposition and will get back to me.
Today is the official day to cast your vote for many offices and policies around the country. But the biggest sideshow is for President of the United States of America. Growing up in a house where my father was a news junky I could not help but wade in political water. I can remember chants of “Run Jesse Run!”, the freeing of Nelson Mandella, the launch of Desert Storm and other historical landmarks as if they were yesterday. Sunday mornings I was subject to Face the Nation, the McNeal Lehr News Hour, panels of rusty old white men with cotton mouth, all running their mouths on things I could care less about.
But somehow, the entire nation has become even more political. Specifically at the sunset of the reign of G.W. Bush the terrible and the rise of of B.O. Barach O’Bama not body odor, although there seems to be a rise in that as well. Suddenly everyone is a news anylist, pundant, and expert. My phone vibrates, flashes, and sings to me. I get so excite thinking it is a beautiful feminine that requires me to give her hugs, or a honest banker from Nigeria who found my 5th uncle’s will to leave me stack of bullion. But no, it’s mass texts from my friends reminding me to vote, calls from volunteers soliciting my vote, or Sallie Mae reminding me that I am her prostitute.
The funny thing is the theme of this and the last election is that “Your Vote Counts.” I have heard from religious friends that if I do not vote I am disappointing God. Many African American friends tell me that people died so that I could vote, so it is my duty to do so.
Let me first debunk the myth that your vote counts…
Now let me address the part about people dying for me to vote seeing as thoug I cannot bring myself to dignify the thought that anyone not voting dissappoints God. Two choices are what? Are they really choices or an ultimatum? Republican, Democrat = Tomato, Tomato (I know you couldn’t hear me say it but I pronounced them exactly the same). I know some will say “Yeah but BRO!!! There are other people you can vote for!” OK BRO, but honestly every politician is just that to me. A Politician.
How do we fix the problem then?
Well I’m glad you asked. First the requirements of the office of the President should be changed. If the job was not only less glamorous, actually to the point of embarrassing we would have less applicants that do not mean well for the country.
If I re-wrote the requirements it would go like this:
1. A standerdized test similar to the SAT but specific to the history of the country and economic smart guy stuff.
2. Everytime a candidate speaks in a public place or on T.V. a lie detector would be hooked up to him that sends electric shock charges everytime it is triggered.
3. No salary. Not only should there be no salary but the Presidents entire mash of wealth and assets are ceased and given away. The benifit being that he/she never has to pay for anything again for the rest of their lives but they will live modest as a public servant.
4. They must do the inaugeration stark naked.
5. The President would not be allowed to shave or cut thier hair for the duration of their term.
If they still want to be president then they must really want to help. No self serving or personal gain, only someone who really wants to make a difference.
Secondly I would get rid of all political parties. How much sense does it make to have a United Country divided into two distinct parties? It makes no sense. First they fight dirty among themselves. Then when they lose they take back all that they said about their parties candidate and endorse them because they do not want the other side to win.
I would also get rid of vacations. If we are working so are you. Weekends only. You can vacation when you are retired.
So in conclusion Politics are for nerds and those that are easily fooled. Stay studying your lessons to keep the crowd guessing.