Posts Tagged ‘health’

I had a bunch of stuff I planned to publish on Yahoo before they made the executive decision to shut the site down. This coming after the Yahoo purchased the site Associated Content several years ago for a couple million dollars only to never really take advantage of it. They own Tumblr too now, a site nobody uses. Tumblr is like the worst of every other site out there and it’s owned by that cunt Marissa Mayer who owns Yahoo. In short, here’s something I had planned to publish there.

Five Least Effective Ab Exercises

We all dream of having six-pack abs, but not all of us have the patience to figure out how to do it. Truthfully I have no idea either. What I do know are the exercises you shouldn’t do if you want to have washboard abs.

Eating a Tub of Ice Cream

By some accounts a gluttonous activity, eating a tub of ice cream does have some health benefits. Ice cream is high in calcium plus the more you eat the more overheating your body becomes which burns calories. Unfortunately the calories they burn are excessive already and really it’s just trying to catch up to normal. You will never achieve six-pack abs if you decide to eat lots of ice cream. Instead opt for some frozen snow peas. They are practically the same thing!

Stomach Punches

It has become common knowledge how ineffective stomach crunches are for abs. The same can be said about stomach punches. Hitting yourself or having a friend give you jabs to midsection is not only a bad way to get in shape, it can also kill you. This is how magician Harry Houdini died. Houdini however was not trying to get in shape for summer. He was merely trying to prove a point, which he didn’t.

Drawing Abs on Your Stomach with Permanent Marker

Don’t let the packaging fool you; permanent marker is only temporary when drawn on skin. Yes you should probably call up the patent office and demand a refund if you are one of the millions of people who draw ab muscles on your belly only to have it wash off the following week when you finally took a shower. The same can be said about t-shirts with fake abs on them. These articles of clothing only offer a temporary solution to your round stomach problem.

Ironing Your Flesh

Never touch a hot iron to your skin! No matter how much your trainer insists this is a quick way to get a six-pack, it is nothing more than broscience. Irons are for clothes and dropping down dumbwaiters onto criminals like in the first Home Alone movie. If you were to try ironing your stomach to tone up your ab muscles you would instead end up in the hospital where you will end up gaining a few pounds from all of the delicious hospital food.

Standing in front of the Microwave

George Washington was the first to warn about the dangers of standing in front of the microwave. As a President of the United States we have to trust him. While there is no proven danger that results from parking your stomach in front of what basically equates to a small box of nuclear weaponry, this is not a way to slim down. Surely a better option would be to, while the microwave is heating up a low-carb meal, lift it up and down over your head while contracting your abs in a forceful outward motion.

Abs 2_7

(Because if your stomach doesn’t look like this you are living a worthless existence)

This past weekend I was completely out of commission due to flu like symptoms. I’m actually not sure if they were flu like. I was so incredibly out of it I couldn’t even bare to look up the symptoms. I felt achy, lightheaded, and was randomly breaking out in sweats despite not having roughs sex of any kind. Well, no rough sex I can remember. It is possibly I fell out of bed and hit my head on something and now I’m suffering from amnesia after incredibly passionate rough sex with many famous and beautiful women. I’m going to go with that. Any fool can catch the flu. It takes a special man to embarrass himself during sex.

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(Chris Farley died during sex. Ooo that’s got to put egg on his face)

I noticed myself feeling a little more lightheaded than usual all week long. I thought this was possibly manic depression, suicidal thoughts, or the everlasting desire to kill all of humanity. Apparently I was wrong and it was a virus or whatever the flu is.

I woke up early Friday morning at 3AM or so sweating and having to pee. I piss a lot and it’s rare I can go the whole night without having to get up at least once. This isn’t a sign I’m getting older as much as it should prove I like to keep hydrated. Why I feel the need to prove to you that I’m constantly drinking water is a mystery. I am though. And I’ll tell you, drinking lots of water has done wonders for nothing in my life.

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(I drink so much water and I look nothing like this! Those water advertisements are lies)

I tried to get through the first half of Friday by taking it easy at first. I don’t have a busy schedule or anything. I mean, I had a lot of plans scheduled for that evening and all but my imaginary friends understood. They wanted me to get better because they’re imaginary and why wouldn’t I imagine up people who care about me?

On Friday I decided I would take it easy for the rest of the day because my head couldn’t take much moving around anyway. I lied in bed watching Catfish and a few other shows you can get for free online. Did you know you can get every episode of South Park online for free at their website? Why would you buy the DVD ever? Anyway, Saturday wasn’t much different except I watched more stuff on YouTube. I didn’t watch bad cat videos. I watched Penn & Teller Fool Us as well as Penn & Teller Tell A Lie. These are two shows I got really excited to start watching because I figure there would be two seasons and more to come. Both were cancelled after the first season. So I was stuck with trying to find Disney movies to watch for free on YouTube.

(I don’t necessarily expect you to watch this. I hate seeing lots of paragraphs smashed together and couldn’t find a good picture)

Sunday came around and I was insisting to myself I’d slowly ease myself back into my daily routine of trying to write as much as possible so one day when I do meet Spielberg’s daughter and we get married I have such an armory of creative talent that my new father-in-law will pretty much help me out and I can retire early and die young and at peace. Wow, what a long sentence.

As I type this it’s Sunday night and I’m still not feeling so hot. Or should I say cold? I’m not sure. My mind is still fuzzy and my head literally will go from really hot to really cold which probably means I’m dying. It’s rare I get sick for more than a day let alone something that makes it painful for me to walk down stairs. And when I say walk down stairs I don’t want you thinking I’m some fancy man who lives in a multiple story home. My apartment is on the third floor so understand the struggle it was to carry everything I own up there.

The only observation I have to make about this whole ordeal is about those medicine packets that come with daytime and nighttime pills. I bought a pack of these and there were six servings of each. Logically shouldn’t there be a proportional amount? It should be a 2:1 ratio really if you are expected to sleep 8 hours. So there should have been eight daytime and four nighttime pills in this package. Maybe the people who put this stuff together never get sick and don’t understand how this makes no sense.

st josephs

(St. Joseph’s does it right. Maybe this is why he was granted Sainthood?)

Oh and one more observation. I watched the new season of Beavis and Butthead that came out back in 2011 and they actually seemed really intelligent when talking about Jersey Shore which was probably intentional but I found hilarious. I heard bad things about the new version. Remember, they were always very hit and miss with jokes on the show. I laughed out loud a few times which I don’t do at many non-live jokes. Just wanted to throw that in there.

Oh and one more thing. For about 48 hours over this weekend I only communicated with one person and didn’t even make my aliveness known to anyone in any way. I didn’t post a single thing online or leave any hints that I had not been abducted. I’m curious if I hadn’t talked to the one person I had if it would have been a shorter amount of time between someone asking me if I was alive or not. I know that’s a mean-spirited thing but I really didn’t intend on making anyone think I died until sometime late Saturday night when I had been sick for two full days already and clearly the only cure was some sadism. But based on this information I believe my body would not rot for more than 5 days tops which is satisfying because that’s a business week. Sorry, the sadism is still here.

What helps you when you’re sick?

To be flawed is to be human. That sounds like something an ancient Chinese person would say. So true and so brilliant. What I really want to know though is at what point did Chinese people stop speaking English? Confucius has all these wonderful sayings and none are in Chinese, at least none of the popular ones. Maybe it’s because typing something in Chinese would require a special keyboard. Every time I go to a website for a language translation my computer nearly gets a virus. What does this say about America? It says we don’t want our own people learning new languages or I need to stop watching German porn online to learn a new language. Maybe that’s my flaw. Maybe I need to finally buck up and buy Rosetta Stone rather than watch a woman get defecated on to learn the most romantic language in the world, German.

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(Brag all you want about being big in Germany Hasselhoff. Never forget though that their toilets are the girl next door)

Rather than point out my flaws then have you all lie and say things like “You’re not that stop. You’ve never eaten anything and died so you must have some common sense” or “I’ve seen much smaller ones. Sure, it was an infant and he had a birth defect but I assure you I felt something.” Today I have decided to pass along the knowledge I have gained in life from my flaws. Hopefully after reading this you too can implement these ideologies into your life and stop being such a fuck-up.

The thing about flaws is we all have them and they come in handfuls. I make mistakes all the time and I’m not very good at much. My biggest talent is falling out of a bad situation by accident. I’ve let my flaws get me down over the years and the scary thing is when you do this you might become obsessed with these flaws. People will think they’re not attractive enough to be loved and because of this they take fewer risks when it comes to romance or dating. But really, after the age of around 16 does anyone ever really tell you to your face how much you suck and how ugly you are? Sure people might think it but not everyone will. It goes beyond looks too. If you let a flaw absorb itself into your skin it may be harder to get out.

skin

(Don’t let your flaws turn into these green arrows or whatever this picture says!)

I’ve known other people to go through what I have and sadly they never listened to my advice as people tend to rarely do. This particular person I want to mention had a problem. They told me about this problem after a big hinting phase where I had assumed they were at one point raped or voted for both George Bushs. Or is it Bushes? I’m not sure. As it turned out, their problem wasn’t something that bugged me at all. What did bug me was how once I knew they had this problem it was brought up non-stop. Everything that was wrong in their life was because of this one problem that albeit was a problem, but not something so out of control it should be as evil to them as they let it be.

I told this person I had similar issues and not to worry. I would never judge. I was continuously told I didn’t understand and after a while I gave up on trying to help. This person let what could have been a miniscule issue devour them. We’re all smart enough to know nobody is perfect. It’s a shame we let ourselves be defined by a particular flaw.

What I have come to realize is that nobody likes me for anything other than me. Sure, some people may like a quality about me, but it doesn’t matter unless they like me for who I am completely as a whole which is pretty darn good if I do say so myself. It’s true about everyone though. I may think someone is funny but if they’re a lousy person and not fun to be around I won’t put up with it. Same as with a person’s flaws, I won’t not associate with someone just because they have something wrong with them. I think we’re all that way, at least I hope so.

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(Amy Schumer is the exception to this rule. I don’t care how funny I’m told she is. There’s just something about her face that really bugs me)

The best way I find to get over your flaws, hell to get over anything, is to make it known. Let people know you think you’re fat. Let people know you’re unusually tall and have red hair. If you have a learning disability, be open about it. Trying to hide a problem will cause you undue stress. Are people going to really laugh at you because you have something wrong with you? Remember, as much as you’re worrying about your own issues, everybody else is worrying about their own.

I wrote this piece like two months ago and have been waiting for the right time to post it. It’s a little long but I don’t plan on posting anything new for a few days so feel free to nurse it. This is basically the shortest autobiography ever written.

I believe in reincarnation. Not some stupid traditional cockamamie thing about good people coming back as butterflies and bad people coming back a Kim Kardashian fan. I think in our own lives we can live multiple lives. Not like secret cell phone hidden in the ceiling or having a bizarro family like we insisted my dad used to have. How does someone work from 7 in the morning until midnight without having another family on the side? His children (Jim, Karen, and Reason) must have gotten such great presents because the children I grew up with (Tim, Erin, and Season) usually had to settle for whatever was on sale at the Dollar Store.

I think each life we live can be divided into chapters. Like a book or a DVD (for those of you illiterates) our lives have chapters too. It’s very easy for me to divide my life thus far into different chapters. Maybe you can too.

Chapter 1: October 9, 1987-September 17, 2000

This was the longest time period of chapters mostly because I don’t remember much of the 80s. I remember someone telling me not to catch the “gay flu” and as a baby I would take large poops into my diaper then in a Ronald Reagan impression say “Mommy, tear off this diaper!” If you’re good at math you can see this chapter goes practically up until I became a teenager. It wasn’t a bad chapter. It was full of innocence and curiosity. I was unaware of my surroundings and I had not until recently known that something called a blow job existed. I had no clue why anyone would ever want one, but I was also 12 and was pretty sure you could get someone pregnant just by staring at them long enough. The big events or activities during this time period I think about are going to school, playing little league baseball, and having lots of hope for the future.

hope-solo-300

(I chose to have hope for the future. Hope Solo has to live with Hope because you can never escape yourself)

Chapter 2: September 18, 2000-July 31, 2004

If my life was completely a book this would be the chapter when shit hits the fan. My parents got into their legendary fight that included vacuum cleaner throwing to start this chapter. It also happened to be my dad’s birthday and the pizza he got went uneaten and turned cold. I started school the very next day and the new black kid in school used me as the example of how fat he used to be before he got his life together. Things quickly spiraled downward. This time period included grades 7-10 for me. I continued getting fatter and with getting fatter you got a lot more depressed about uneaten pizza. My dad no longer lived with us by the end of this chapter and I was the man of the house by process of elimination. The big events or activities during this period I think about are going to school, losing my interest yet still continuing to play little league baseball, and losing all hope for the future.

Lost-lost-747767_1280_1024

(Were they really lost or was it more that they were stranded? Even if they knew their location it wouldn’t have done them any good. Purgatory)

Chapter 3: August 1, 2004-August 30, 2007

This chapter was all about fluctuating weight. On August 1, 2004 I began my journey to stop crying over uneaten pizza. I got terrific results and with a slimmer body means people take you more seriously. I could talk to girls now which was a completely change from Chapter 2. I also started driving during this chapter. I had a newfound confidence about who I was. Slowly I began to put weight back on though because people actually learned to like me for who I was and not what I looked like. I graduated from high school then went to community college. On the first night of my sophomore year my class went out to eat at Applebee’s. I ordered a platter of appetizers. I looked down at it and wondered where my future was headed. I was going backwards. It was time for a new chapter in my life. The big events or activities during this period I think about are getting suspended from school, coming to terms with the idea I would never become a professional athlete, and realizing hope is just a word lazy people use to justify laziness.

oprah300

(I felt a lot like Oprah during this chapter what with my fluctuating weight and all. The only difference is she has millions of people willing to listen to her. I can’t even get a dog to “come here” when I offer him a treat)

Chapter 4: September 1, 2007-December 31, 2008

This would be a very short chapter. It was also probably the second worst. I began starving myself to knock off some weight, around 70 pounds by the time all was said and done. I finished up with school and my parents were ready to sell our house. Toward the end of the chapter I spent almost every day when I wasn’t working or in class in search of something greater which I could never find. The only thing I think about this time period is eating a salmon sandwich and how everyone I was friends with stopped talking to me for completely different reasons. I know it’s kind of late to say it but I really miss that salmon sandwich.

salmon

(In the afterlife my friend. It is there we will reunite)

Chapter 5: January 1, 2009-December 28, 2009

I had already started working at a comedy club in New York City at the end of 2008 but it wasn’t until 2009 that I felt like I belonged. It was a great experience in a thousand different ways. This year was the closest I ever have gotten to being a rockstar. One girl literally asked me if I was a rockstar. Then I gave her my phone number and I never heard from her again. Black bitch. It’s not racist that I’m calling her black; remember I gave her my phone number. I was willing. I was also living in a new apartment with my sister which I absolutely hated. The apartment was fine but the lifestyle I had stunk. By the end I had a girlfriend I actually cared about and the most exciting year of my life I ever had. There were a lot of depressing days and donut binge eating adventures, but it was great overall. There are way too memories from this year to list. My favorite, being a god damned rockstar.

mick jagger

(Rockstars rule because even at this age Mick Jagger could steal any woman of any age of any status away from me)

Chapter 6: December 29, 2009-December 31, 2012

At the beginning of this chapter I move out completely on my own. I’m 50 miles from where I grew up and scared as shit. I managed though. Things were terribly depressing and lonely at first because the only person I had anywhere near me was the girl I had been dating. This is the chapter where I become a man. I didn’t slay any lions or remember some Hebrew, I became completely independent and void of anything. I’d like to say I became a more caring person but that might be a lie. I’m a more confident person and I don’t flinch when people call me sir. I’ve come to terms with who I am and all I have to offer the world. The biggest thing I have now that I didn’t in other chapters is drive. I had too much hope early on. Now I’m running on want. I don’t hope to have a good life with lots of success, I want it. Again, to sum up this chapter would take forever. I had a lot more good memories than I did bad ones. I’m a tougher person more human person because of everything that happened here.

SUICIDE

(This picture may have happened during this chapter but it is not an accurate representation of everything)

Chapter 7: December 1, 2012-?

This chapter has yet to be written. The best way to ensure a new chapter starts is by moving and that’s exactly what I am doing. If I may make a prediction I see myself marrying Malin Akerman within the year, earning the right to have complete control over Hollywood after defeating every executive ever in an arm-wrestling tournament, and most likely I am voted Time Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive. All of this happens after I defeated the aliens on the Mayan Apocalypse but you’d have to be an idiot not to see that one coming.

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(I wish I got to play Fake Batman in this movie. Or at least the knocked out prisoner behind them. He looks like he has a great view)

It’s important to have your life full of chapters. Would you want to read a book without them? If you can’t divide your life into chapters then maybe you’re stuck in a rut. You may need a change of scenario, people in your life, or something else. Consistency is great but you also don’t want your life to be the same forever. My epilogue would say how important it is to evolve. Your death-bed should be surrounded by amazing people from all walks of life who never met. Live life to the fullest. Nobody wants to be around some bore who settled too soon.

One thing old people like to do is talk about how much physical pain they are constantly in. Maybe there’s some award given out weekly to whoever hurts the most. They’d make it annual but by the way old people make their bad backs sound it’s hard to know if they’ll even be alive that long. As I grow older I too have constant pains in my body. Today I take a page from the book everyone I know over 30 owns. Today I complain about my everyday pains.

(Dedicated to you three and the worst career choice you ever made)

My most common constant pain is in my left hip. It’s not so much painful as it is discomfort. I’m pretty sure it’s just tight or maybe loose. I guess if I knew the problem I could solve it. I can constantly rotate the hip and get it to pop somewhere near my ass cheek and hamstring. I have also noticed I cannot bend this hip as much as my right one. That’s how you know you have too much free time, when you know the range of motion you have on one side of your body as opposed to the other. How am I trying to solve this hip pain? Make it pop as often as I can and hope for some reason that works.

Probably related to my stiff hip is something in the back of my left knee. I’m thinking I either hyperextended or need to hyperextend my knee to make it better. Knee pain has always scared me because not only is that a sensitive and important joint, it’s also a weird-looking one. I mean really, is there anything else that looks like a knee? Knees remind me of unformed fetuses. My knees are also knobby which means I don’t wear shorts in public to avoid public ridicule. How am I trying to solve this pain? I’m posting about it on a blog wondering if anyone has any suggestions on what I should do.

(Apparently these are knobby knees belonging to someone named Brian, so maybe my knees aren’t knobby, just odd)

My right shoulder doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it used to but it does hurt. A few weeks ago it became so painful to the point I started looking up rotator cuff exercises to do. Most involve embarrassingly lying on your side and moving your arm in a motion nobody should ever move an arm. I took a week off from exercising while I was on vacation and whatever was hurting seemed to heal itself up. I’m like wolverine in that way. Like my left hip, my right shoulder is not nearly as flexible as my left shoulder. I tell myself this has something to do with pitching 3 shutout innings in little league when it really probably just has something to do with having poor posture. How am I trying to solve this pain? I stretch my shoulders a lot and whenever possible I stand up. Once I even iced it down with frozen broccoli.

I believe the worst pain a person can ever have is head pain. My head constantly hurts. Well, not really. Sometimes I’ll become incredibly frustrated and say aloud “Why does my head hurt so bad?” when really it doesn’t. I guess this would qualify more as emotional pain than anything. I have had phases in life where I have gotten frequent headaches though. The vein above my right temple will pop out and you can literally see it throb. Why am I such a veiny person? The nurse who used to give me my allergy shots said she liked my arms because they were thick (chubby) and should could always find a vein. I can only think of three other people who said they liked me arms and 1/3 of them were straight male friends, or so they claim. How am I trying to solve this pain? I take frequent hot showers. Too bad that sometimes ends up burning my eyelids. Why am I so gross?

(This is how I look after a long hot shower. I wouldn’t wear that color though. Too light and would clash with my eyes)

What constant pains do you always have? Please, nothing in the bathing suit area. I’m not in the mood to pretend not to be grossed out by you.

Bon Jovi once wrote a song called “Bad Medicine.” Or at least he stole it from someone else. I’m convinced that one man with so much talent couldn’t possibly have come up with all of those great ideas. A cousin of his taught music in my high school. I never had him yet whenever I would see him would be an ass and use Bon Jovi puns whenever I saw him. One day when it was raining I warned him to be careful outside because I heard it’s “slippery when wet.” I think he heard that one before but he slipped and cracked his head open anyway.

I don’t take too many bad medicines. Most of the medicines I take are good ones. They help me live longer. Maybe not. None have killed me so they must be good, right? I knew someone who told me Reese’s Peanut Buttercups was her medicine. I think she was serious, not a practical diabetic jokester like she turned out to be. If Bon Jovi ever wrote a song called “Good Medicine” it better fucking be about peanut buttercups. The only thing better than chocolate filled with peanut butter is a sexy woman covered in chocolate filled with peanut butter. I guess you could have sex with a peanut buttercup though. Off to the store to find out!

(If it’s got a hole we can make it work)

Every morning I try to take three different medications. The first I take is a multivitamin. I’ve heard conflicting reports about multivitamins. They say they’re a waste while other people say you should take one. I have them so I take them. How can a multivitamin be bad? It’s vitamins! Multi amount of them! Next in my line of pills (I actually do keep them in a line) is my allergy medication. I take allergy pills everyday. I used to get allergy shots once a week I’m such a nerd. These usually do the trick and help me from sneezing. I’m not a fan of sneezing. I swear one day I’m going to get a hernia from sneezing. I’m getting older which means my sneezes get more violent. I miss my little “achoos” and not my current “blah blah bloos.” You shouldn’t have to drop your pants and cough after a sneeze is what I’m getting at. My final morning pill is a fish oil pill. Like multivitamins, I hear these are essential or a complete waste. It would be kind of an ass move not to take them. Fish were killed for their oil just so I can delay a heart attack. That sounds kind of cruel. Americans are so obsessed with oil. I hope we invade a country filled with fish oil. Even in a buy-one-get-one-free pack they were a little pricey.

There are other medicines that I have stored away in case of emergency/post nasal drip. I have a lot of Mucinex, the most disgusting name of a medicine. It says exactly what it is, yes, but mucus is one of those words that make me shiver. Like supper or Cher. I also have a lot of anti-headache pills. Four straight years on July 4th I would get a massive headache that would last up to a week. The most painful throbbing motherfucker of a headache. It always happens on the right side of my face. You can see the vein throbbing out. I’ve actually cried from this pain and nothing makes me cry. Except dead kittens underneath lost kitten signs. I haven’t gotten one of those horrendous headaches in a little over 2 years now. I think it’s because I eat too much salt. Can you believe that salt actually helps with sinus problems? That delicious goodness will never be limited in my diet.

(What did this fictional character’s relatives do at Ellis Island to get such a bad last name?)

I used to have a lot of trouble sleeping when someone was next to me. I never would have survived marriage in olden days. Well actually, didn’t they not share beds? Or was TV lying? For a good 3 months or so I would pop a Benadryl down my throat to get some sleep. Even if I was sleeping alone I’d do it out of habit. Why is sleeping alone such a “lonely” thing? I sleep amazing whilst by myself. A flamethrower to my face couldn’t disturb me. Unless I drank too much water before bed. For someone my age I sure do wake up a lot to urinate and completely miss the toilet.

Amongst digestive pills I also have many creams. I think I have about 8 different containers of lotions. People come over and find out I’m a professional hand job giver. I’m retired now. The hours weren’t flexible enough. I have simple lotions, Vaseline, anything to help keep me from getting too dry. And boy do I get dry. My face, neck, and arms are the worst victims of winter dryness. Some days I feel like I’m a giant piece of dandruff with arms and legs. I already have the same lack of complexion and personality of one. Not much is known about my family tree. I would like to officially claim myself as a piece of dandruff. Where’s my casino?

(Even this brave chief wouldn’t be able to figure out how you scalp a man made entirely of dandruff)

I can’t imagine a world before medicine was plentiful. I guess it’s not that way everywhere. Some parts of the world would envy me for having moisturizing cream. But they live in climates where they rarely get little red rings near their noses. I should be jealous of them, right? I appreciate my medicine. It keeps me from sneezing, helps me sleep at night, and lets me look more beautiful to people who don’t find me beautiful and never will. Medicine, you’ve done a job well done.

None of what I am about to discuss has any scientific backing. Well, it might. They do some pretty stupid studies. I remember one was something about how fat kids like school the least. Yeah, they do. They get picked on and they have to move around every 41 minutes. There’s only one lunch period too! It’s a fat kid’s hell. I used to make sure to take off at least one Monday a month because I hated school with a passion. I knew another fat kid who chose Fridays as his day to take off. Note to scientists, do not do a study about how fat kids love three-day weekends.

(“I love 3 day weekends!” – fat kid from Modern Family, much better than the Two and a Half Men fat kid)

Onto the science stuff. Remember, none of this has any backing. I believe that radio, television, computer, cell phone, all those devices will eventually kill us and have been for years. I know, I sound like the Unabomber. In the early 90s he was blowing up people via the mail because he was afraid technology was going to take over. 20 years later, he’s been right. I do believe that more technology can be a bad thing. I don’t see how knowing the score of the Seahawks/Raiders game instantly is necessary. I used to love looking at sports scores in the newspaper when I was younger. I would have to wait the next morning to find out how other teams outside of my area did. It was beautiful. The Unabomber had a great point. A poor way of executing his point, but he was right. The machines are going to take over.

What inspired these thoughts? Mostly the idea that I woke up this morning an hour before I should have. For no reason at all I woke up. I looked at my cell phone and I had a text message. Something about “Hey my car broke down and my wife is going into labor, can you help us out?” I deleted the text message but not before looking at the time. It had occurred 1 minute earlier. Before you say that my phone vibrated or made some kind of a whacky sound that woke me up, think again. My phone was on silent. If this had happened once I wouldn’t think much of it. The fact that it happens a lot and even happened twice earlier in the day makes me wonder. Yes Robert Plant, it really makes me wonder.

(He looks terrible. That stairway to heaven he bought will be coming in handy real soon)

I know this can probably be easily explained. Not every silent text message has woken me up. Enough have for me to blog about it. That’s when you know something annoys you, when you blog about it. Something that annoys me that I have never blogged about is when people are wished a happy birthday on Facebook and don’t directly thank the person. Even clicking the “Like” button is fine. Just posting a status saying “Thanks for the Happy Birthdays” is insulting. Fuck you birthday boy. You’re not that busy. You’re not George Clooney. Do it the next day if that’s when you’ll have time. We took the time to post on your page hoping some hot girl from high school you’re friends with will see it and think “Hey, he’s cute now. He probably has bad self-esteem from his older days of looking like shit. Maybe I should contact him and ask if I can hide his penis inside of me.” Birthdays come around once a year and you don’t have the time to thank each person? At least thank most. At least thank me. You’re a prick if you don’t. And I hope your birthday sucks.

My theory with the text messages is that the nearest tower is to the east of my bed. Where I keep my phone, on my nightstand/cup holder/temporary used condom table, is to the west. This is going to sound insane, but I think that the message travels through my brain and then into my phone. It’s not like I know what the message is. But I think that it might be possible that some electrode snaps off in my brain and jolts me. I mean, it has to be possible. We don’t really know what these frequencies and waves do to our heads. It can’t be good. I know that much. I type this all with a laptop inches above my balls. If I ever am able to have children, it will be a miracle. Then I will have to be a dad and that will be a disaster.

Our brains are very powerful. I believe that most of the “unexplained” in this world is our own doing. I think we can create anything with our brains. Events, moments, objects, anything that our subconscious “wants.“ I know, this is deep hippie shit. I don’t take drugs either which means if anything I’m crazy. Frequencies and waves may not kill us, but they’re waking me up from awesome dreams. Isn’t that enough of a crime? That chick was SO into me. Her hair looked like Vitamin C’s hair.

(Vitamin C is okay looking. These are gorgeous!)

30 years from now, we might all have a giant brain tumor from all of these wires and stuff flying around. I know 3 people with epilepsy that live on the same block. Isn’t that a little strange? There are power lines that run across the street from them too. Hmmm I don’t know. That seems a little shady. It doesn’t necessarily help my argument, but it does make it possible. Anything is possible. If we believe something hard enough, it can become true. If everyone believed that I was black then I become black. I am officially black. The color white is now black but the color black is still black. I’m rambling about nothing. I think these cell phone frequencies are really doing some serious damage.