I need a smoke… and a towel.

Kansas... my birth state.... home of the WTF!

By no means will I defend the state of Kansas or its inhabitants. And even though I have just admitted that I was born in Kansas I will adamantly deny it if you confront me about it.

Well, I guess Kansas can actually be a nice place despite the tornadoes, crappy winters, lack of anything interesting to do, and various other things. I mean if you’re the type of person who wants to sit on the shitter for 2 years straight without someone hassling you, then Kansas is the place for you.

A little too far maybe?

Jeez! They went all sorts of ballistic on this kid. It was a bag of candy!

I wonder if there were headlines in the school news paper about a young vice president caught in the illicit act of contraband candy purchasing.

“Skittles was quoted in saying that it had to take the ‘bus’ to meet up with ‘Student 9’ in class.”

Really.. School authorities need to calm the hell down!

And this part gets me too – “The New Haven school system banned candy sales in 2003 as part of a districtwide school wellness policy, school spokeswoman Catherine Sullivan-DeCarlo said.”

What the hell?! Yes I know Americans are becoming notoriously unhealthy and obese. But damn! It almost seems like one step closer towards ditching that whole “land of the free” part.

Listen up kiddies! You eat what we tell you eat!

When humans can’t… an animal will.

This doesn’t really surprise me all that much. Humans seem notoriously inept at aiding wildlife. I’m betting it went something like this.

Dolphin: Hey, how’s it going? You guys alright?

Whales: Oh hey! I’m sure glad to see you. We’re a bit lost. The humans seem to be trying to help but they’re just screwing us up. You know what they say, road to hell… good intentions and all that.

Dolphin: Heh, yeah. The humans are a bit “slow”. Just follow me.

Whales: Thanks! Oh look. The stupid humans are watching and waving.

Dolphin: Ugh. Humans are retarded.

Whales: Heh. Stupid humans.

And that is how a dolphin would “Free Willy”. (Sorry. You had to have seen that one coming.)

What?! No jail for fat people?!

Well would you look at that!

It seems that as the average size for humans is increasing, the average size for prison cells is not. You have no idea how happy this makes me. Morbid obesity seems to be a get out of jail card! I can commit atrocities against mankind and not do jail time so long as I manage to become ecliptic by the time they find and arrest me.

Police: Well damn! That’s one fat bastard! I don’t even think we can transport him without a forklift. Eh… just leave him at home.

I can has prostitute?

I know you’ve already heard about this. You’re most likely tired of hearing and reading about it. But I’d like to take the time talk about this.

Honestly, I don’t blame the guy. I mean look at her! She’s freaking hot! Hell I’d pay for that. I’d probably kill one of my family members for some of that. I’d definitely kill one of your family members for that.

And it says that she had a MySpace account too. I have a MySpace account! If I had known that I would have sent her so many friend invites! We would have become great friends in no time. And next thing you know I’m getting discounted rates on services. But no.

Maybe I should I go into politics.

Remember:

Politics = Hookers!.... or candy.

Now if you don’t mind I need a smoke… and a towel.

Look out! It's Random Man!

This is mainly randomness here.

Today sports guy comes to me and tells me that he keeps hearing a knocking at his window and doesn’t know what it is. My first assumption was, “It’s probably a bird attacking its reflection. Birds are dumb like that”. And I would be right. Moments later sports guy returns raving about how it’s a cardinal. Again and again sports guy returns to tell me about the knocking cardinal. I believe it was a total of 5 times he told me about it. And if I count the times he’s told each and ever coworker individually I’ve heard the story a total of 14 times. So sports guy gets the bright idea of doing something to make sure the cardinal doesn’t return. He recalled how his parents would put plastic owl statues in their windows to keep birds away. His magnificent idea is to put an action figure on the window sill outside. I’ve heard this part of the story a total of 6 times now. He’s even pulled me into his office to show me his achievement. I haven’t the heart to tell him that I couldn’t care less about the damn bird knocking or the action figure deterrent. But at least he’s not talking to me about sports today. Small favors I guess.

I think that the bird wasn’t actually attacking its reflection. I believe it was actually trying to get to sports guy. But being that birds are notoriously dumb it was going the hard way about it, through the glass. Eventually the killer cardinal will catch on to sports guy’s plan. One day sports guy will find his action figure pooped on and when he steps outside the cardinal will carry out its insidious assassination plot. Look out sports guy! Cardinals are red for a reason!

And now I will entertain you with pictures of my car accident from years back. (I was speeding down a road called Red Run Blvd. And now I know why it’s called that.) I don’t really remember much from it but I do remember how simple my thought processes became during the ordeal.

“Oh man! I’m headed for the curb. It’ll be alright. It might mess the car up a little.”

“World go spinning?” (this was when the car hit the curb and began to roll like a log. I was told that it rolled 4 times before coming to rest on its top.)

“I need a nap. Here good.” (This is when I woke up upside down, undid my seatbelt, crawled half way out of the car, and settled in for a nice nap in the grass.)

I woke up as people were rushing about asking me questions. There was a man with the thickest mustache I have ever seen cradling my head and smiling down on me. It was comforting and creepy all at the same time. So I learned that people hit you with a barrage of questions that seem simple to answer normally but after an accident you end up stumbling like a one legged mentally disabled kid in a dark room filled with awkwardly placed furniture with the promise of pudding at the end. I also learned that after you answer their questions they won’t answer yours. I don’t know how many times I asked “what happened?” and got silence as a reply. That just makes everything worse. Especially when you try to get up and they instantly freak and keep you pinned. For an hour or so I thought maybe I had lost a leg or I was horribly mutilated from the waist down. My mother and sister arrived shortly after I was loaded into a helicopter to be air lifted to a hospital. (How awesome is that?!) Mom discovered that she could outrun my sister if she needed to. The roads had been blocked off a ways away from the scene and without hesitation my mother broke into a crazed sprint. My sister confessed later that she had a hard time keeping up with my mother. (I’d like to state that at the time my sister was in high school and playing soccer. She was and is a very physically fit person. Mom was in her late 40’s and not very physically fit. Adrenaline does wonderful things.)

You can find some of the hospital incident here. It’s located in the rant about hospitals, doctors, and underwear.

So anyway… here’s the few photos we have from the incident.

But wait! There's more random stuff!

This is a picture of my rabbit Skitters when she was just a wee baby.
I'm actually just putting this hear so someone can look at it and say, "Awwww so cute!".
Skitters is a little sweetheart who seems to have developed an identity crisis. She believes that she's a puppy. The little fuzz-bit gets terribly excited when people are around, follows you through a room, and licks hands. Yes, you read that correctly. She licks hands to show affection.

Want to see my oubliette?

(The title of this post is not a sexual advance.... unless you're female..... and it worked.)

Sometimes I don’t have anything funny to rant about.

Sometimes all I have is trough of murky depression. I’d ignore or forget about these things but unfortunately they won’t ignore or forget me. They follow me, plague me, hound me, call out my name endlessly like obnoxious children, and poke me while I try to sleep. These wearisome moments weigh on me. The easiest way for me to dispel or deal with them is to write them down. Share them with the world. Like a small child pointing at his first “big kid” poop in the potty. Except no one is smiling and we’re all thinking the same thing, “shit!”.

But rather than clutter up this blog with sad sack prattling and miserablities, I’ve decided to toss them somewhere else. I’ve created an oubliette for my ennui. A veritable glory hole for when my cup runneth over. A mass grave for my failings, self depredations, and self deprivations. Sure I could post them on Overlord Complex with a comical twist to them. But sometimes the effort to make something so depressing into something funny is just too much. And the easiest way to say “I’m miserable” is to say “A coma sounds nice right now”. Life isn’t always funshine. And when it’s not I have….. (drum roll or some such silliness)………

An Oubliette for my Ennui

Don't worry kiddies. Overlord Complex is my main blog which I will be posting on most of the time. The other is well... a dump...