Posts Tagged ‘history’

The following is something I failed to get published on several websites and is inspired by a Facebook status I made that got like 14 likes a few months ago. Who cares? I’m going to be on the radio, right?


A Brief History of Humor

Humor is subjective and ever changing. What I’m wondering is, has the general population been getting funnier or lamer? You be the judge. Here are examples of conversations one person might say to another person whom they find funny over the history of life.

10,000 BC: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally remember those grunting noises you made and use them again because they brought me such humorous joy. I bet you can even have those grunts mean actual words one day if you put your mind to it.”

5,000 BC: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally get into hieroglyphic writing. I bet you can make a joke that will last forever and in thousands of years might mean something completely different yet still remain relevant and intrigue the human mind.”

1,000 BC: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally buy a chisel and write out your jokes on stone tablets. I bet you can make them last for centuries and if the joke is good enough it may teach something to future generations about our culture in today’s world.”

1: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally write that down on some scripture. I bet you can even convince a few people to believe these jokes are their dogma.”

1200: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally explore the entire world and tell these jokes to everyone you meet along the away. I bet you can connect our planet and make the human race closer than ever before.”

1450: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally get one of them printing press things and make copies of your jokes and distribute them out. I bet you can inspire other people to think and come up with jokes of their own.

1600: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally become a bard and write plays about intriguing characters that will not only make people laugh but also make them think. I bet you could be the next William Shakespeare.”

1776: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally get out from under English rule to have the freedom to tell whatever jokes you want. I bet you can even create a nation where freedom of speech exists and we live alongside each other passively while we continue to expand as humans until eventually the rest of the world sees that democracy is the most important thing a leader can offer its people.”

1920: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally get involved in filmmaking. I bet you could make a really funny feature length film that provides a lot of entertainment for everyone who is too stupid to realize this whole prohibition thing is a joke.”

1938: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally put that on a radio program. I bet you could become famous from it if enough people are naïve enough to believe aliens really did land on earth. It could make your career!”

1960: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally move to Hollywood and pursue your dream at becoming a screenwriter for films and television. I bet if you put in the hard work and believe in yourself you can achieve so much and change the way media works.”

1980: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally try standup comedy. I bet you could get a national tour going. Who knows, maybe you’ll even get your own sitcom if enough people ever appreciate you.”

2000: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally do one of those new blog things. I bet you can even write a book one day, you know, maybe if you feel like it. What do I care? It’s not me.”

2008: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally make a Twitter account. I bet you can even get a bunch of followers one day. And I swear even when I make passive aggressive comments to you about how much funnier I am than you I’m still happy you have a bunch of strangers who read your daily thoughts.”

2010: “Man you fall down a lot. You should totally videotape everything you do. I bet you can get the video to go viral. You may even end up on a television show where all they do is talk about YouTube videos for a half hour with snide one-liners. Your dead parents would be so proud.”

2013: “Man you’re so funny. You should totally make one of those stupid pictures with the white text that points out a quick quip about society, social issues, or celebrities. They’re called memes, right? I know it sounds ridiculous, but I love not having to think very hard or work at anything else. You should do it man it’s really easy work and it most likely will not be relevant in a week. I bet you can even get someone to like it on Facebook one day.”

The point, don’t grab life by the balls. Grab life by the balls, bell-end, full scrotum, and a little bit of taint. If you settle on anything, you’re never going to reach your full potential.

One of the few subjects I didn’t mind in school was history. History is fun to learn about because it’s 25% Nazis, 25% Aliens, 25% Bible/Vikings, 25% Ice Road Truckers. I had some lousy history teachers though and it kind of ruined what could have been an enjoyable learning experience.

I’ll start with the dumbest thing anyone told me. My 8th grade history teacher was a crazy woman named Mrs. Chernoski whom I have mentioned before at some point I’m sure. She would dress up in character and do dumb voices then try to be relatable. I never bought into her bullshit. She tried getting me to fill up her vase with water once while I was doing homework during study hall. I told her no and we argued. I absolutely hate flowers. I would do anything to make sure they died of dehydration. I would have done the same for Mrs. Chernoski. She was annoying and still to this day when I see a child crying I know she is somehow responsible.

Baby crying

(Chernoski was here)

The fact Chernoski told me that was untrue was that Abraham Lincoln was shot at Ford’s Theater located in Pennsylvania. I’m not sure if she was becoming senile or she really thought this was true. The whole class thought it was true. Then we brought it up on a field trip and Mrs. Chernoski was killed by firing squad for being a lousy human being. Or so I wish.’s+theater&rlz=1C1AVSX_enUS418US418&aq=f&um=1&ie=UTF-8&hl=en&sa=N&tab=wl

(In case you are interested in where Ford’s Theater is and are too lazy to look it up)

Another strange thing a history teacher told the class happened a year after the Anthrax mailings that occurred post-9/11. The post office they were mailed from was our town’s local post office so it was a trendy thing to talk about. He told us he had a former student whose dad worked for the FBI, not the Federal Booty Inspection. He told her classified information. Daddy told daughter that the government found the Anthrax mailer and he was locked up. He was a scientist from Maryland who drove up to New Jersey to mail his weapon. I don’t know how much of this is true. The same teacher also spent an entire week talking about how cool Rasputin was. It was the story that got him into history. It was also the story he told us that I think ended up getting him fired before Christmas.


(I don’t get why everyone freaked. Mailing someone a thrash metal band doesn’t seem like a big deal to me)

I had another history teacher who was intelligent enough other than for the fact he told the class he voted for Condoleeza Rice. Could there be anyone in the world who would have been less qualified to be president? Even Osama Bin Laden seems like a guy who could get the job done better. Well, not now. He’s in Davey Jones’s locker. Did I really just use the phrase “Davey Jones’s locker” and use it properly? I have never felt cooler.

Finally the original inspiration for this piece and inspired by a WordPress conversation, the worst thing a history teacher has ever told me.

It was sometime in elementary school when this happened. I don’t remember which teacher it was, but I know it happened. A teacher very nonchalantly told the class that Asian people have small eyes because many centuries ago when humans were nomadic that they had to travel through the deserts in Asia and sand blew up into their eyes. They had to squint to protect themselves from the sand and evolution happened. This is similar to how in kindergarten my teacher told us that Q’s are O’s who would stick their tongues out at others and they did it so much it got stuck that way.

Curious for the right answer I found this the real reason why Asians appear to have smaller eyes. “For the sake of answering, we will skip the fact that the illusion of “smaller” eyes largely applies to just EAST Asians, and not the many other peoples such as Iranians, Indians, Arabs, etc. East Asians don’t really have “tiny” eyes; it is really the same size as non-East Asians. They simply have a patch of extra skin (called an epithelial fold) above their eyes, because that sort of thing combats the extreme cold and fierce winds of Tibet, where the ancestors of East Asians lived for many tens of thousands of years before migrating down into warmer places. Since the epithelial fold is a part of their DNA, it stayed, even though the need for it no longer exists for all Asians but the Tibetans.” – Wiki Answers

I really wish I knew which teacher this was because I would love to get in touch and ask her why black people are so dark, why Mongolians look so retarded, and why Japanese vaginas are so crooked. And when I say crooked I don’t mean like a vagina who takes bribes from criminals to look the other way. Although, she might think they do that too.


(They should really make a sequel to Serpico where he tries to take down a dirty crooked vagina. Or don’t. That’s just silly)

What’s a lie/something stupid a teacher has told you?

Politicians, Popes, Professional Athletes, and Pop Singers are all people who need some guarding. Politicians from assassins. Popes from bad ancient ideas of thinking. Professional athletes from not stretching their hamstrings properly. Pop singers from selling out with a country album. It’s amazing that people with so much power need help in life. These star-studded A-Listers might have the world by the balls, but they also have a lot in common with buffet food. What guards the buffet food? The sneeze guard!

(I can hear your excitement already)

For those of you unfamiliar with exactly what a sneeze guard is, it’s the glass covering the food. Yep, it’s that simple. I’m not sure if that’s an official scientific term or some slang I learned from The Simpsons and thought was common knowledge. Like when I started to write a report in 5th grade about how the Sunsphere in Knoxville was filled with wigs now.

(Milhouse is very convincing)

The thing about sneeze guards are that they couldn’t possibly have always existed. Look at old pictures of the first Thanksgiving. Did I really just say “old pictures of the first Thanksgiving?” As opposed to the new ones that take centuries to develop. What I mean to say is that the first Thanksgiving was also the first buffet style meal. I know, you’re probably saying the Last Supper was also buffet style. No. You’re wrong. That was family style. The Last Supper was more like a PF Chang’s where you order a dish and everyone kind of shares. Then you get pissed off when Judas eats half the orange chicken. Why didn’t he order orange chicken if he wanted it so much? Ugh Judas is such an asshole. What could he possibly do to top this orange chicken stealing incident?

I’m thinking buffets started to become more popular in the 1950s or 1960s. That was when the United States was wealthy and not spending their money on Apple Products or sending poor minorities to college. What comes with wealth? Boogers! You never see a Third World child with a runny nose. It’s the ultimate scavenger hunt item. And with boogers come the removal of those delicious crunchy critters. What’s the safest way to get rid of a booger? Sneezing! See how things are started to connect? This is post is starting to turn into Crash.

(I know I’ve used that reference before. But what am I going say instead? “This post is starting to turn into 11:14?” Nobody saw that movie so here’s a picture of Matt Dillon saving the original Zoey Saldana)

We can safely assume Old Country Buffet was the first prominent one. If not for the word “Old” in the name simply try the food and tell me it’s not ancient. Fried chicken should not have mold. Pizza crust should not have “We Like Ike!” campaign buttons on them. I believe the first few years of buffets were spent getting a lot of people sick. Not stomach aches or food poisoning sick either. More of the you caught whatever that fat truck driver with the handle bar mustache is struggling through kind of sick. Similar to anything new, it takes a lot of testing to get it right. You don’t just invent a product and have it work right away. It takes a total recall to get it right. There are casualties. Collateral damage. Something about a kindergarten cop to squeeze in another Arnold Schwarzenegger movie title into this paragraph.

(Awww a hard cop is relating to children. Wanna bet they didn’t learn a thing and now talk in disgusting accents because of this strange undercover job?)

Buffets back then probably had waffles and fruit salads covered in snot. Why else would a sneeze guard be needed other than the fact that people were ALWAYS sneezing on food. You do not invent something on chance. You do it out of necessity. Enough people were sneezing onto food that sneeze guards became essential. Thing is, back then communication took longer. It had to be a slow process of adding them in. Right? Almost every buffet had to have at some point had someone sneeze on food. Not only that, they would have had to have someone sneeze on the food and have another person take notice and report it. I think I speak for the rest of us when I saw if I sneeze on someone else’s food and nobody notices, I don’t make a sound to the manager.

This is all purely my own theory on how sneeze guards came to be. As per usual I did no research. Instead I used conductive reasoning and assumed everybody is stupid. Possibly the true history of sneeze guards is that the pilgrims sat down with the Indians at the first Thanksgiving. A pilgrim sneezed onto a squash which then killed a bunch of the Indians after they ate it. I forget where I was going with this other than the idea that we’re so incredibly disgusting that we don’t know how to turn away from food before sneezing amuses me.

I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this.

Imagine this opening paragraph appearing like the opening text to Star Wars. You know, that yellow slanted moving font that was impossible to read. Anyway, long ago in a town about 35 miles away, there was a family that lived next door to me. No. Not that family. The other side. The ones that were actually a family and not a woman who liked to cut down trees and sleep with men who drove dirty trucks. The ones on the right if you’re looking at my old house are the ones I’m talking about. This was a family who declared war on mine. Things never got out of hand, but they were entertaining enough for me to write about. Okay, that was not as epic as I had thought it would be. Kind of like the entire Star Wars franchise.

(Sorry, but I like the Ewok movies better. They got oozies!)

The family in question consisted of a mom, a dad, a daughter, and a son. The ideal for any family who is not Chinese. Their ideal family would be a son, a son, a son, and a robot. This family was nothing close to ideal. They were wretched. Being mean and aggressive was the way they chose to live their lives. And that brought out the demons in us all.

Mainly battles between our two clans took place over cat poop. They insisted that our cats were pooping on their property. I would argue today that the banks own property and that they should take it up with them, but back then I still had hope that Democracy was real. I’m sure our cats really were pooping on the lawn and I can see how that might be annoying. Even more annoying was when they would put the cat poop in a bag and leave it near our mailbox. No stamp was ever placed on the bag so it wasn’t like they were trying to send it anywhere. It would be ridiculous if they placed the stamp on the actual poop. How’s the mailman supposed to see that? Eventually things toned down and I’m sure there was a lot of yelling between parents that I never paid attention to. Our cats died and a few times we still had cat poop arrive at our mailbox. I think one time I threw it onto their roof. I don’t remember for sure. I do remember once when they were out at a soccer game I accidentally dropped a stink bomb and before it could fully shatter I broke it on their front door. They arrived home to a horrendous smell. A wonderful victory at my own hands.

(Holy shit! That finger print on the lens looks like a ghost cat. Children with large unibrows covering their eyes attract ghost cats too)

Another issue between us was that of balls traveling through the yards. We had an unwritten policy about returning balls to each other if we found them in our yards. Until they didn’t return one of my balls. Then it was fair game. My first dog Baylee popped a blow up ball of theirs. Another time, good o’le McGwire grabbed it and took it up to our deck. I remember sitting on the back deck while the kids next door were outside. At this point I was scary looking and fat. They weren’t about to ask me for their ball back so they just stood there hoping I could read minds. I can’t. So the ball sat on our deck until it slowly deflated itself. A perfectly good ball ruined because they were bitches.

(Who am I kidding? My backyard never had nearly this much grass. Only my family gets this)

I only remember going into their house one time. Their backyard, a few times, but actually inside once. I had returned home from school and neither of my parents were home. It was probably St. Patrick’s Day, Cinco de Mayo, or a work day when “mommy and daddy need a drink to help them with stress.” The neighbors let me hang at their house for about a half hour. All I remember doing was hiding under a blanket with the girl who lived there. Nothing happened. I didn’t want it to because I already knew their dirty secret. They were gummy bastards.

What is a gummy bastard? A gummy bastard is a next door neighbor of mine. More specifically, the family who had these strange things on the tops of each of their heads. The dad had it, the daughter had it, and the ginger son had it. I must have been playing a game of lice check with the daughter when I first noticed it. A big red deformity poking out of the top of her head. I poked at it because that seemed like the only thing to do. It felt like a gummy bear. But we certainly couldn’t call the family the Gummy Bears. They were not bears. They were bastards. Hence the name, the Gummy Bastards.

(I’d be a bastard too if my head contained delicious snacks I could not lick)

I’m not exactly sure why we really hated each other. I guess that’s just what neighbors do. You find things to be disgusted about one another. It’s natural though. When you are forced to see the same ugly faces everyday only feet away from where you rest your head at night, you’re going to grow to hate them. They were everything my family wasn’t. They were social, had family friends, athletic kids, their father smoked cigars instead of cigarettes like mine, the mom jogged while mine watched Dawson’s Creek, the daughter’s nickname was Cookie for some diabetic reason while my sister’s nickname was bear for reasons that made sense at the time, and their son was a Ginger while I had the hair color of champions, dirty blondish brown. All that separated us was a damn fruit snack on top of the head. Could it have been the source of their bastardness? The hair to their Samson. The genitals to their Ron Jeremy. The being married to the executive of E! to their Chelsea Handler. I can only speculate what it was. What I do know is that they were animal hating bastards. I hope a loud black family moved into our house you gummy bastards.

I’ve casually mentioned before that my favorite movie of all-time is The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. Any movie title that can fit two commas into it has my respect. I love commas. I even love comas. It’d be so cool to be in a coma. If I ever end up in one, make sure I get enough nutrients to get really thin. That way when I wake up I can stuff my face. But there’s more to TGTBTU (I know, that sounds like some sort of annoying liberal organization’s abbreviation) than it’s punctuation that I enjoy. Today I would like to share with you not only my love of spaghetti westerns, but the history of them.

The name spaghetti western comes from the fact that Americans are racists towards Italians. Read this next sentence slowly because the first time I found this out I was confused. Spaghetti westerns were made by Italian directors in the 1960s and they were about the American west and starred mostly Spanish actors from Spain. What’s shocking to me about this is that there is an entire genre based around that. That’d be like if the Japanese made a lot of romantic comedies based around 1980s Americans. We’d call them Sushi Romances. Leave it to Americans to assume that the only redeeming quality of a group of people is food that they are known for. I heard Israel is opening up a film studio specializing in detective films. Hebrew National Thrillers anybody? Things are different in places like Darfur. They don’t have any food. Their movies would be called the same thing as they are here. Where would their characters even go on dates to? The famous orgasm scene from When Harry Met Sally would have taken places on a rock. A cheetah would have to “have what she was having.” I wonder whatever happened to the woman who had that line. I hope that pervert’s doing well.

(I didn’t realize how old she was. Eek! She’s probably dead)

The most famous of the spaghetti westerns were done by a guy by the name of Sergio Leone. That’s actually not true. He’s just the only guy I know of. This isn’t so much about spaghetti westerns as it is about the three movies of his I know. You see, this is the Internet. It’s easy to lie and get away with things. He was an Italian man with big poofy hair. Or maybe I’m thinking of Stanley Kubrick. I think all film directors with any talent have big poofy hair. Look at Michael Bay. He looks like he goes into the barbershop once a week. Stop making movies and start going around telling people you care more about your hair than storylines.

(There’s less wind here than there is on the moon yet somehow he managed to look like he’s been working hard)

Sergio’s first movie that I know of (remember, I never do any research for this blog, I wait until some ass-hat like you corrects me in the comments section) was called A Fistful of Dollars. I read that this is a near rip-off of a Japanese movie. I didn’t like this movie. It made no sense. The storyline was great, Clint Eastwood (more on him later) comes into a town and turns two gangs against each other playing both sides. The execution was kind of boring. All I remember were a bunch of Italian men pretending to be Mexicans diving out of a house while on fire. I know that sounds cool, but it isn’t.

The second in the franchise was called For A Few Dollars More. I guess it was a sequel yet it really had nothing to do with the original. This one was really good. It’s about Clint Eastwood (I swear I’ll get to him) teaming up with a good-guy bounty hunter and infiltrating a gang of bandits who have recently helped their leader escape from prison. The way they helped him escape was by throwing dynamite at his prison cell. One of the bad guys has a really bad hunchback and I’m pretty sure the main bad guy had a waxed mustache. If you don’t want to see it after this endorsement you have no taste. Hunchbacks and Captain Hook Mustaches? It’s like two Disney movies in one.

(Ugh Fan Fiction. Like a Mermaid would like to move to a place filled with dry heat)

Finally came TGTBTU. The basic story about this one is searching for buried gold. Clint Eastwood (next paragraph, pinky promise) has to decide which is better, teaming up with the bad or the ugly. Or maybe not. He doesn’t really team up with either unless he has to. The first hour of the film is all character development. The second hour is all about the journey to try to find the gold. And the final hour is figuring out how to get the gold. It’s very simple yet an epic movie. There’s only one boring part when a drunk Union soldier rambles about politics. Ugh, allegory!

The amazing thing about all of these films was that (I know, I promised to mention Clint Eastwood here, I’ll save that for last, sorry!) all of them were filmed in Italian. Or Spanish. I don’t remember and don’t feel like watching the DVD feature that I learned this. They would have to go back and overdub the lines of most of the actors because very few spoke any English. It’s somewhat noticeable, but most older movies are poor quality. This was the 1960s these came out in. There were bigger problems like getting to the moon and smoking in hospitals.

These films made Clint Eastwood’s career (there!). He went on to do a lot more and has been a great influence to someone, probably. I guess that’s all I wanted to say about him. Bummer. But he’s a complete badass in all of these movies and makes me wish I was a cowboy. I’d recommend these films to any guy I meet. Girls may or may not like them. They’re very “manly” films with cowboys farting and shooting guns and not making love like they do in today’s cowboy films. Didn’t a Japanese person direct Brokeback Mountain? That’s what you get for allowing more than one Axis of Evil country to depict your history.

(The only phallic shaped thing that should ever enter a cowboy’s mouth is a cigarette. Possibly the barrel a gun before being executed)

“I wanna be a cowboy baby.” – A guy whose most well-known song lyric is “bada ba bang da bang diggy diggy” and now rips off Lynyrd Skynyrd beats which had already been stolen

What is it good for? Absolutely nothing. That’s my feeling on 3D televisions. Most films aren’t shot in 3D. The ones that are usually are children’s or star blue animated people. Outside of the classic Home Improvement episode where they filmed in 3D, I don’t remember there ever being a big deal about seeing something on a TV pop out like it’s really there. What would they do? Have Neil Patrick Harris’s tie sway and almost hit you? Would Kim Kardashian’s ass come inches away from your face? I certainly don’t need the zombies on The Walking Dead reaching for my ears. If you buy a 3D television then you are basically saying let Joseph Kony kill children. That’s money you could spend in making a sequel to help take him down. Maybe this time it won’t be shot by a guy who masturbates in public. And we all know what masturbating in public leads to, war.

(Whoa! Whoa!)

The first war that ever happened was probably between a married couple. Back then when there were 8 people alive that was pretty big. People started having sex more and that made more people exist. Wars got larger. Weapons got bigger. Arguments were more petty. Two opposing sides would argue over who the forest that neither of them ever went into belonged to. It was a pretty violent time in those ages. Police didn’t get paid overtime and the pens had yet to be invented for laws to exist. Dark times indeed.

The first major wars that I know anything about are the old Greek ones. You know, Helen of Troy and other exaggerated stuff. The Greeks were big on overstating how epic something was. They said Helen of Troy was so beautiful that a war started over her. Thousands of men died because they wanted for another man to have sex with Helen. Have you ever met a hot Helen? That’s not even a Greek name. That’s something the chick with the fat lips who works in a library would have. The kind of girl you’re not quite sure if she’s retarded or not because she always wears overalls. Their big war was depicted in the movie 300. That’s a war that actually did exist unlike many of the other things the Greeks talked about. Do they really want us to think that they weren’t all homos? The men wore silk dresses with a bow in their hair. They were preschool girls with Democracy. Or am I thinking about Romans? Either way, I’m making up facts as I go along.

(A Modern Day Greek Warrior)

Jesus was born in the year 0. He was killed when he was 33 years old by the bastards of the time, The Romans. 33 years old is pretty young. Adam Brody is almost that age. I would hate if the nerd from The OC outlived Jesus. It’s not fair! Have I ever mentioned how annoyed I am by Italians? Look no further than the Romans. They were the Greeks with prettier women. I don’t believe the Romans made as many great contributions to society as others may. They invented straight roads? Who would invent a crooked road? That seems like more work. They pretty much killed whoever they could in Europe but eventually the walls came tumbling down basically overnight. They blamed Uranus, the made-up God of the asshole.

My history between Jesus dying and Christopher Columbus is very hazy. I’m American. Be happy that I acknowledge the existence of Palestine. There were lots of wars during that time period. Guys like Genghis Kahn led the charge. One in every six people living right now are related to Genghis Kahn. I’m not. No white people are. So that pretty much makes 98% of all Asians related to him if you want to really get down to the numbers. That’s kind of sick. That would mean every time you see two Asians holding hands you’re seeing incest. Stupid Genghis Kahn. Couldn’t keep his dick behind his weird bearskin flap that he probably wore.

The Crusades was the other big war during this time period. I think there were about 80 of them. At some point you have to call it quits. You’d think if you were going somewhere in the name of God yet kept failing that God might be sending you a message to let the people living there at the time be. But the English knights needed things like the Holy Grail which Jesus drank out of. What would they do with the Holy Grail once they had it? Would all of the knights in the round table get to take it around for the day like the Stanley Cup? If I found the Holy Grail I would make Harrison Ford fight the Monty Python guys for it. I doubt either side would care. Maybe Harrison Ford would. He hasn’t done much since Air Force One. I blame Liam Neeson.

(Just because your wife died doesn’t mean you should steal jobs away from Harrison Ford. Take your Scottish accent back to wherever you come from)

When the United States of America was discovered it meant more wars started to happen. England of course was always fighting with France. Those two are so silly. It’s like Chinese people fighting with Japanese people who they always did. I think it’s because back then you had to kill someone and you could only kill those closest to you. Pakistanis would have loved to have killed people in Ecuador. Too far though. And what could they fight about? Who makes a Subway sandwich faster?

Wars took place all of the time in the United States. We wiped out all of the Indians, almost. A few fled to casinos, the rich snobs. America’s first big war took place for their freedom from England. That was called the Revolutionary War. One teacher told me that we weren’t really free until we won the War of 1812 which took place sometime in the 1800s. That’s when our national anthem The Star Spangled Banner was written. A man named Sir Francis Scott Key wrote it. I know, what a faggy name. Our national anthem is pretty gay. It’s impossible to dance to though which is my biggest problem with it. I like to be able to dance during a moment of silence, you know? So things aren’t so somber.

Then came shit wars like Mexican-American War where men in raccoon hats were heroes. Yuck. The Civil War was pretty cool and even had a song by Guns N Roses about it. I won’t go much into the war. Listen to the song instead. Overseas the Russians were fighting the Japanese in the Russo-Japanese War. I had a baseball coach with the last name Russo. He was a dick. That’s why I would have rooted for Japan.

(Coach Russo informing his son Matt that he is already growing up to have an apple-shaped figure)

The century turned and we had two World Wars. Both of them were called the wars to end all wars. Really they were the wars that led to more wars. Korean War, Vietnam War, wars in the Middle East over riverbanks, and countless others were spawned because of previous wars. Even our current wars you could trace back to WWII. I was going to do it but I think I might be wrong. I’m still going to live by that statement though.

I don’t think war is ever a good answer to a problem. It never solves anything and leaves too many people dead. What good are dead people? Yeah we can experiment on them and finally say how shitty they were without feeling bad, but war still isn’t the answer. Let’s drop rhymes, not war crimes.

One sport that has died out over the years is boxing. Back in the 1970s, or whenever you could still yell racial slurs out at black people and be mayor of a town, boxing was huge. Guys like George Foreman, Joe Frazier, and Mohammed Ali were at the top of their game. Of course now they’re not nearly as amazing as they used to be. George Foreman sells grills and names all of his kids George because he’s crazy and conceded. Joe Frazier died recently and as he was lowered into the ground the undertaker yelled “Down goes Frazier! Down goes Frazier!” Mohammed Ali, arguably the best boxer of all time was diagnosed with Michael J. Fox Syndrome, worse known as Parkinson’s Disease. He is now permanently shaking, in a constant state of a rope-a-dope.

I’ve never been much into boxing. I don’t gamble. I don’t involve myself with the mafia. Those are the only reasons why people ever get into boxing in the first place. It’s known as the corrupt sport. The one where champions are paid off to take dives. It’s sad really. Boxing could be a very popular sport in today’s world. Instead Mixed Martial Arts has taken its place. Boxing, which was once the prize child of violent sports has developed mental retardation and grown red hair. In other words, it’s a reject.

(If boxing were a person, it would be this)

I actually for a brief time in my life trained to be a boxer. I bought a jump rope, a blow up punching bag, and owned a nice pair of boxing gloves. Black ones too. If I ever made it as a boxer, I would have to be the bad guy. My career didn’t last long. I can’t jump rope without a catchy tune being sung which led to poor training. I decided to retire before my career even got started. I’m still not positive I know how to throw a punch. Every fight I get into is a shoving match which ends with one of us tripping backwards. Well, the one fight I was actually in. Suck a dick Josh Marshall. You might have a loving wife and a child who looks up to you, but you’re no match with me when it comes to fisticuffs.

There was a man who almost saved boxing from aborting itself. He, himself was an abortion of a human being. I am of course talking about Mike Tyson. A guy who was so mean that making singing cameos in The Hangover actually got people to go and see the film. Yeah, the first Hangover was silly to see Mike Tyson in it. Then the second one the entire theater went silent went he came out. “Oh that old gag. I was hoping at least one thing in this sequel would be different from the first.” I mean seriously, what a fucking waste of however many dollars I spent. You wonder why people pirate films? Because you try passing crap like The Hangover 2 as original. We all know the story of Mike Tyson though. He bit a 50-year-old man’s ear and got a tattoo on his face. The rest, as they say, is a past event that has been recorded lest we forget that it happened.

Right now in boxing the biggest names are Manny, Floyd, and Vladimir. If I had to get my ass kicked by any of them, it would be Vladimir. Getting beaten up by someone named after the fat kid from Modern Family or the barber from The Andy Griffith Show doesn’t seem like much fun. Vladimir is a tough name. That’s Dracula’s communion name. I went to school with a lot of Catholics. They were always talking about their communion names and most of them were as vicious as vampires. Every mean person I have ever met was a servant of The Pope. Even Kennedy, the beloved president, was always out cheating on his wife. We were busy practicing the “Duck and Cover” while he was deflowering interns. At least Clinton had the courtesy to give Monica a souvenir on her dress. All Kennedy did was give this old broad an idea for a book.

(*insert pearl necklace joke here*)

What have we learned about boxing today? Nothing really. There’s not much to know. Nobody really watches it because you have to Pay Per View. So that’s why they call it that! Boxers fight maybe once or twice a year. How can you root for someone like that? It’s like rooting for your grandmother you only ever hear from on your birthday or Christmas. You can’t do that. All that downtime in between you forget why you liked them in the first place. If you are a fan of boxing, I am impressed. Somehow you have managed to look through all the garbage and found some good. This could explain how some really ugly and trashy people find spouses. It’s those all-inclusive observant boxing fans who they settle down with.

I’m sitting here wondering about a world before pants. Actually I’m lying. I’m sitting here looking around the room for something to write about. I’m wearing pants for once which means that must be a sign I should write about them. The pants I’m wearing right now are pajama pants. They’re camouflage. I look like I belong in the Cuddly Marines because my pants are so incredibly soft.

(A POW of the Cuddly Marines. I don’t know this kid. It’s creepy that I’m posting his picture)

Pants have been around for a long time despite not being around at the beginning of time. Jesus never wore pants. He wore a gown. At least, that’s what it looks like to me. Julius Caesar never wore pants either. He was killed by his best friend, Brutus. If my best friend killed me I would not be surprised. I would not say “And you too?” I would say “I knew you were going to do this someday, bastard.” The earliest person I can remember ever seeing depicted in pants is Christopher Columbus. Using this logic, pants were invented in 1492. Let’s stick with that.

(I really hope he’s wearing pants or else he’s clearly playing with himself)

The purpose of pants is to cover up your private parts. And to cover up the knees of people with knobs for knees. Before pants we used fig leaves to cover our private parts. Then Isaac Newton came around and turned the fig into a delicious cookie, The Fig Newton. A couple of bullies called it The Fag Newton because bullies don’t like cookies without a chocolaty flavor. It’s true. Think about everyone who has ever picked on you. Did they or did they not have a chocolate stain on their lips? After the fig leaf went out of style we decided to wear furs over our crotches. We had developed the ancient art of killing an animal to cover our shame. That’s kind of silly. If someone did that today, killed an animal only to wear their skin, we’d be outraged by them. Survival used to depend on it. If you didn’t have the most trendy of raccoon skins for underpants you’d be made fun of then killed. The ancient world was a cruel place.

People eventually learned how to sew which led to the toga. The toga was used primarily because it could cover the entire body. The citizens of those ancient times were lazy and did not care to put on a shirt and pants separately. Oh, they had the technology to build pants. Believe me. They were just too lazy to do it. The Romans had bath houses to hang out in. It wasn’t even a gay thing. Can you imagine that? Hanging out with your buddies in a bath and it not be a gay thing? I can’t even sit next to a friend at the movie theater without feeling slightly homosexual.

(Speaking of slightly homosexual)

The night-gown, worn by Jesus and all of his disciples, was pretty popular for quite a long time. I’m not really sure what happened in history from the year 0 until 1492. It’s all kind of a blur. That was such a gigantic chunk of human history yet we seem to know less about that time period than any other. I think there might have been a few Crusades. The Crusades, where a bunch of white people invaded a country of olive-skinned people claiming that their god was a white guy who grew up in a land of only olive-skinned people. Okay–no wonder they had to make up King Arthur to get others behind that story.

(Common battle garb for a man in the times of Jesus)

Christopher Columbus somehow got his greedy hands on a pair of pants. The pants he wore were silly pants. They were tight and the kind of pants that a clown might wear. His discovery of a new land would eventually lead to the murder of a bunch of non-pants wearing people called the Native Americans. I guess back then they weren’t called Native Americans. They were called “in-my-ways.” That’s exactly what they were. In the way of pilgrims. Their presence alone was a nuisance. Native Americans used to actually live in gigantic beautiful mansions. They felt bad about taking up so much land and decided to conserve space by living in teepees. A small triangular home that was only big enough to shit in. They could no longer hang fancy paintings on their walls. They had to resort to hanging scalps which were much smaller. In today’s world, Native Americans do wear pants. Usually these pants are filled with poker chips. We killed their ancestors and gave them casinos. The world is a bloody mess where money fixes everything.

Were are we in history? We’re in like 1776 or so. People are still wearing silly Christopher Columbus pants. Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, and other racists all wearing the same type of tight-fitting girly clown pants. Then the Declaration of Independence is signed. The United States is free from England, a country that thrives on not wearing real pants. We fight a couple of wars, enslave a couple of races, and before you know it blue jeans are around. I saw the film Gettysburg or at least part of it. It takes place in the 1860s in Pennsylvania. I actually almost got a hand job at Gettysburg, but that’s another story for another day with no real ending. The soldiers for the Union wore blue. This, my friends, the invention of blue jeans. It came out of hate, war, racial suppression, but I think it was all worth it. I would give my life so my children could live in a world with blue jeans. They’re so form-fitting that it’s worth death to have.

(Brett Favre killed 19 men to get ahold of these real comfortable jeans. He only showed 2 of them a picture of his penis)

Today, in the year 2015( don’t want this to be time sensitive) there are lots of types of pants. There’s the aforementioned blue jeans, there are khakis, there are cargo pants, douche bags wear dockers, there are pants that are impossible to stain, pants of every color you could imagine, pants that if you were thrown from a plane would act as a parachute, pants that have the bottoms cut off, pants with the backs cut out, the types of pants that exist are endless. Dogs also pant when they’re hot. This is one of those cases where why don’t they call a dog panting something else. Call it a dog breathing heavily. Or if you need its own word call it Supplenating. I made up a word that means nothing. Merriam Webster never did that. Too busy getting teased for having a girl’s name.

I was not alive during the decade of the 1950s. I was negative 30 or so. Don’t let that make you feel old if you were alive then. Let that make you feel wise and proud that you’re so ancient that you still have the ability to read.

I don’t have much knowledge of the decade. Both my parents were born then. A guy named Dwight actually managed to become president. I Love Lucy was the only thing on television. Black people didn’t yet exist. Like I said, my knowledge of the decade isn’t that correct.

There are a few things from the decade that I wish still existed. No, not Jim Crowe laws you silly goose. I’m talking about fun things like malted milkshakes. What even is a malted milkshake? I’ve heard of malted milk balls. I like those! I also like milkshakes. A malted milkshake would be even better. I don’t get it though. Back then, in the 1950s, everyone was always drinking milkshakes and eating whoopee pies. Yet, you never saw a fat person. What the hell? Were the 1950s all a lie?

The answer is simple. Yes. Everything people like me who did not grow up in the 1950s knows about the decade has been fed lies. It was the decade of purity. Where the average family was a mom, a dad, a son, a daughter, and a puppy. Everything was in black and white. The milk man would come by around noon with some hilarious jokes. Cops could be drunks and not accidentally load off a magazine into a parked car. Things were perfect. Things were not that way.

(Jimmy McNulty, Baltimore PD. A throwback to a simpler time when cops carried beers instead of badges)

Let me mention a few evil things we forgot about the 1950s. The first being the Korean War. You never hear people talk about this war. Maybe it’s because it was sandwiched (now I’m hungry) between WWII and Vietnam. Elvis fought in the Korean War. So did one of my friend’s dads. I remember we would pick on that friend. We’d say his dad didn’t fight in a real war and to stop making shit up. We’d throw rocks at him. All of our grandpas had killed Japs and Krauts in WWII. He came from an inferior blood line than we did. That’s why he deserved the stoning. The Korean War was bad because well, it was a war, and also nothing was really accomplished with it. North Korea is one of the most awful places in the world to live. Not that Kim Jong-Il is dead, maybe things will turn around. I hope so. They make me nervous. Koreans are typically so peaceful and then you piss them off and their faces explode with anger. I blame the 1950s for this fear I live with every day.

(The Asian Terrorist from Die Hard enjoying some product placement)

Sticking with something quite similar, the Red Scare occurred during the decade of “Good Times.” I know the show Good Times didn’t come out until the 1970s. Really, if you watch closely enough to the television show Good Times, you’ll see they weren’t always good times. They had family members die. They were poor. It should have been called “Finally, A Black Family on TV” or something more accurate to the meaning behind it all. The Red Scare was when Joseph McCarthy went around claiming that everyone he didn’t like was a Communist. It’s funny how things like that change. A political view that wasn’t necessarily violent could have you blacklisted. Now we’re all about being different and accepting. We’re not allowed to discriminate against people of other creeds. We still shit on each other for having bad views politically, but it’s mostly gentle ribbing. Political opinions mean so little. We all want the same thing. We want to be happy, healthy, safe, and sexy. Trust me, sexy is very important in politics. Why else do you think it took Richard Nixon 10 years before he won an election?

(Dick Nixon; ugly man, lousy president, amazing exit)

Most of the popular actors or entertainers from the era were real pricks. Bing Crosby beat his kids, the guy who played Ricky Ricardo beat his wife, Joe Dimaggio beat his kids, wife, and the Dodgers pitching staff. It was an awful time. Everybody was beating up everybody else. And there was no one to help you. That was something they used to have called “tough love.” Now tough love is getting ice cream without warm hot fudge. Sure, you can have hot fudge, but it can’t be hot. There has to be a happy medium. One where you don’t beat your kids, but also one where parents don’t completely pussy out in discipline. Maybe you can buy your child the hot fudge sundae then smash it in front of them. Beat up the ice cream. You get out your rage and your kids don’t have to lie about getting hit by baseballs or walking into doors.

That’s really all I know about the most boring decade ever. There were also poodle skirts, greasers, Johnny B. Goode, Johnny Unitas, Alfred Hitchcock, sexual harassment in the work place, coloreds only bathrooms, and haircuts named bobs. Other than having a lot of great people born in those 10 years, the 1950s stunk. It was everyone trying to be nice and happy when really they were miserable and in desperate need of anti-depressants. Then Kennedy came along to start the 1960s. He was going to save the day. He got shot in the back of the face almost immediately. That ushered in a decade of rebellion and bra burning. I’m all for women taking off their bras, but fire disturbs me. I’m terribly afraid of matches. Blame it on the 1950s. I think matches were invented then as were barbecue potato chips. How do I know that?

We all have a mortal enemy. Some of us haven’t met him or her yet. Most of will marry that person. It’s a cruel joke played on us by the Universe. I like having villains in my life. It makes me feel more like Batman, the guy who I insisted that I would grow up to be like. I never liked Superman. His villains were a bald high school rival and a “bizarre” version of himself. It always made me think of Seinfeld. I can’t root for a Jewish superhero. I’m sorry, I don’t think Moyle Boy is a great idea.

Right now I don’t know who my mortal enemy is. I’ve crushed all of my previous ones. I never really had a high school rival or anything similar to that. Nobody wanted to be good at the things I excelled in. The “Being Ignored” and “Not Getting Laid” teams had little competition on them. It’s a dark time when you don’t have a natural rival.

If I go big picture, I have tons of enemies. All Japanese people. I still haven’t forgiven them for their actions during the Revolutionary War. They could have easily helped us Americans out. No, we had to rely on the French. The Japanese are a bunch of unhelpful perverts. Another enemy I have are all of the terrorists in the world. The towel on the head kind and the cyber kind. I don’t like the towel kind because I hate people who waste laundry items. 9/11 didn’t help them either. The cyber kind annoy me because what they do is hack into my Myspace account and spam my friends. There’s no telling what they’ve done to my Myspace by now. I haven’t been on it in close to 40 years! Margin of error 37 years.

Locally there are some enemies in my own country. Politicians, neighbors, slow-moving gas station attendants; they’re all almost as bad as terrorists. I’m sure some of them are terrorists. Politicians are villainous because they tell me how to run my life. They don’t own me. They can’t tell me what I do with my body. If I want a belly button piercing, I will get a belly button piercing. I guess that isn’t a hot button issue in Washington, but I would like to make it one. Men should never have their belly buttons pierced. I don’t think they should ever even call it a belly button. It should just be stomach vagina. My neighbors are villainous for much for volatile reasons. The people above me are loud and yell every Sunday at each other. One says they’re leaving for good now and an hour later the mean woman is on her balcony cursing on her cell phone. We seriously can’t be the same species as those people. My other neighbors never pick up after their dogs and let one of their dogs run around without a leash. We’re in an apartment complex with a road in front of us. There are a lot of gang members in the area hence a lot of speedy drivers. Show some love for your 5 pound dog and tie a shoe lace around its neck if you’re so poor because your giant TV cost too much. Gas station attendants are not nearly as awful as I had thought they were now that I think about politicians and my neighbors. They’re actually polite for the most part. Scratch them off the list of villains in my life and replace them with cashiers that don’t ask me how I am. I look forward to saying “Good” to a strange. Lies are fun.

Still, there are no villains in the world right now that we can really celebrate the death of. I guess the most evil man alive would be Kim Jong-Il. Or maybe it’s the “president” of Iran who doesn’t think there are any gay people in his country. How ugly are the men in Iran that none are attracted to each other? Open up a LA Fitness and I guarantee you that he’ll finally open up his eyes and see a lot of GayRanians.

I remember the night that Osama Bin Laden died. Everyone was so happy and it made me think, where is the line that we can celebrate someone being shot in the face? I was as happy as the next guy (unless the next guy was Osama), but all my life I’ve been made to believe that life is precious no matter whose life it is. Everyone I knew believed it. Then we were all so ecstatic when The Notorious O.B.L. got his retina blown out. I guess that’s the ultimate sign of a villain. When your morals are completely turned upside down. We need more villains in this world. When you think about it, they bring us closer together in the end. So go out there and create havoc and Anarchy. Your death might inspire handshakes among those who thought they were enemies when really you were the one we all despised.

(This is a real picture that I managed to capture on CNN the night OBL was killed. I found it hilarious)

“The enemies of my friends are the friends of my enemies of the friends that are my friends of my enemies who are not my enemies of my friends.” – A Famous Quote