Yakuza Babies And A Dollar To Shut Up

I got in the mood today to write something the way I used to write when I was full-on mad at the world. I don’t know that I am that mad anymore, so it is tough for me to pick a target and aim at it with words on a page the way I used to. I would say I had a kind of acerbic wit, but then I would have to look that word up to make sure I used it correctly and I’m just not in the mood for that. Somebody else needs to look that up for me and get back to me.

I feel like picking on my standard targets would be like beating a dead horse, which is something I have never tried so I can’t say with absolute knowledge that it is a waste of time (maybe it’s a real joy, like having a hootenanny or something), but it sure seems like there would be a lot better ways to spend an afternoon. Not that I spend an entire afternoon writing this crap, because I honestly wouldn’t devote more than about 40 minutes to anything as asinine as one of my blogs.

So far, on my other blogs on Myspace, I have attacked children, stupid children, white trash children, people who drive Infinitis, fat people who cut me off to go eat at CiCi’s Pizza (I hate that, and yet it happens more than you would believe), people who can’t decide which yogurt to buy at the grocery store, my dog shitting in my bike seat, the fact that when a horse runs into another horse it is actually called a “horse wreck” (I swear I’m not making that up), people who wear sunglasses inside of Target and people who put loud mufflers on their Japanese sedans. I honestly can’t think of anyone else left to go after.

I may need some help on this one, because I have been feeling some venom that I need to spit at SOMETHING. The bad thing is that so many of my favorite topics have become off limits because of family developments with my friends. I feel bad attacking kids for being stupid when all of my friends have kids. And even though, technically, they are still some of the dumbest human beings alive because they are babies and they can’t even talk, I feel bad for saying that. Obviously not THAT bad because I’m still going to make my comments, but I sort of feel bad about that. So come on you no-talking, poopy-diapered babies, why don’t you engage me in some meaningful conversation already so I can run rings around you and do a little superiority dance right in your baby face? What are you going to do, cry about it?

Rebuttal? Nothing? I thought so. Too busy pooping on yourselves and making my friends have to stay up all night.

It’s not even fun attacking babies anymore, either verbally or in person with my nunchucks. Just kidding, I would never use nunchucks on a kid, unless they had a bo staff and a tattoo of the Yakuza or they had a poopy diaper and they were trying to sit on my lap.

Let that be a lesson to all of you: NEVER sit on my lap if you have poop in your pants unless you want a whack to the dome and a loud KEEYARF right in your ear.

Wow, this blog went downhill REALLY fast, didn’t it?

I guess I should get to the real point, which is that since the Christmas season is over I need something else to do with the dollar bills floating in my pocket from time to time. During the Christmas season I like to “pay a toll” of $1 to the Salvation Army bell ringers every time I walk past them. That means it costs me $2 to go into the grocery store and come out between Thanksgiving and Christmas. And that’s okay, because I just do stupid stuff with my money anyway and I figure anything they do with it would be more productive than anything I do with it. Odds are, my dollar, left to fend for itself on my whims, would probably end up in some stripper’s G-string just before my hat gets marvelously molested by a very athletic and flexible girl with anger management issues and a surprising vendetta against baseball caps.

It’s happened before. It wasn’t pretty. It was pretty F’ing AWESOME! I really felt as if that girl and her crotch hated my hat.

Anyway, after much soul searching and generally being annoyed by idiots in the world, I have decided to spend my money on something much more valuable than the Salvation Army. I am going to pay people $1 not to talk to me.

Here’s how it’s going to go down: Someone is going to approach me and talk to me in an unsolicited conversation. I am going to make a snap judgment based on the intelligence of what the person is talking about, the voice they use to talk to me in, and, just for good measure, what kind of shoes they are wearing. If I disagree with anything the person says, sounds like, or chooses as footwear, I will pull out a crisp one dollar bill, snap it taut a couple of times, dangle the currency right in their stupid face and say, “I will give you one dollar to NEVER talk to me again.”

If they reach for the dollar I will pull it just out of their reach and say, “This is a one-time offer and a binding agreement. If you take this dollar and say another word to me I will spray you in the face with an entire can of mace and take my dollar back. By accepting this dollar you accept the terms I have given and henceforth you will NOT SAY ANOTHER WORD TO ME FOR THE REMAINDER OF YOUR NATURAL LIFE!” Then I will probably add something in Latin like “quid pro quo” or “e pluribus unum” just so they think I know some more lawyer stuff and they will shut their stupid mouth. Forever. At least in my direction.

I’m gonna need a LOT of mace.

B!

P.S.—I feel compelled to give examples of things I am looking to never hear again. So here is a short list of things that will earn you a dollar for your silence (trust me, the list is much, MUCH longer than this but here is something to get you a general idea):

If you complain about the air quality as you light a cigarette
If any part of your voice comes through your nose (unless you are doing an impersonation of that lady from The Nanny, in which case I will just mace you without giving you a dollar)
If you say anything about how your vacation home has lost value in the market
You think I’m lying about the “horse wreck” thing
If your shoes don’t match your belt