I Have No Right!

I have no right!  Try and try as I might, I just have no right.

This hasn't always been the case.  As a child, I had a right.  In my teens, I had a right, as well.  In recent years, however, I just don't seem have the right, anymore.  Most days, I don't even bother trying, the risk being too great.  Instead, I make alternative decisions.  Choose other directions and avenues, which sometimes results in some tasks take a little longer.  All because I no longer have a right.

Others who have a right.  I see them all the time.  Everywhere I look, taking their turns like it's nobody's business.  I barely phases me anymore, though, having grown accustomed to the plight of not having the right.  I've acclimated.  Although..?  On occasion, I still try.  And sometimes, I can even do it without incident.  Most times, though, I don't even bother trying.

It hasn't completely disappeared, though.  There is still a hint remaining.  A gentle reminder, a reminiscent that allows me to lean, sway, swagger, and even curve that way, but as far as darting to the right, it's just best that I don't even try.  The risk, as I said, is too great.

At night, when I enter my room, the bed is to my right, but I rarely just climb in.  Instead, I sidle up to it, turn almost completely around, to my left then climb in that way.  It is only in the morning, that I climb out to the right.  However, in recent weeks, that practice has even changed, and I climb out the opposite side of the bed, which still requires me then, to curve to the right at the foot of the bed.  So far, I've only crashed once or twice.

Today, though, I paid the price.  I was bringing my deck furniture out of my storage shed, to place on my deck.  Inside the shed, is very cramped and movement is limited.  I picked up one of the chairs and turned to my right, not thinking, and twisted the f*ck out of my knee.  At 4:30pm on March 31st, 2012, I definitely did not have the "right".

I've made peace with my limitations.  Where I falter in some areas, I more than make up in others.  Not to mention, my charm and charisma.  I may not have a right, anymore, but I'm still a helluva guy, and you can take that to the bank!

Tainted Meat

I live in a 4-level split home.  It's in a nice neighbourhood, with very little or no crime.  I live near a couple of schools and a high school.  There's even a church or two down the street, if the urge ever comes to me to go pray or something.  I love my home very very much, but in recent weeks and months, I've begun looking at my home in a very different way.  My house is NOT "zombie-proof".

The main floor has a big bay window facing the street and patio doors to the rear, both providing great visibility to the undead, if they ever decide to reanimate and roam the earth.  As well, the living room and spare bedroom, also have large windows, which would provide a determined zombie, with brains on the mind, to gain access to my home.  These are the things that freak the shit out of me, late at night when I'm watching "The Walking Dead" or any of the "Resident Evil" movies.  What the hell would I do, if such an event were to occur?  I don't own any weapons, not that I'd be a very good shot anyway, as I found out last year when taking target practice with a f*cking BB gun.  I seem to shake too much, while holding the heavy instrument.  I'm such a chick!

My sister's house is perfect.  A one level home with limited windows facing front, excellent window coverings on all, and best of all, direct entry into the garage.  So if escape is necessary, no one is placed in danger of being ravaged.  As for me, I have to leave my front door, then fumble with keys to get into my garage, all the while fighting off hungry zombies.  I'll have my work cut out for me, if the occasion should ever arise.  Perhaps I should have "zombie drills" in the meantime, to get myself in proper preparedness.

The thing I don't completely understand about zombies, though, is what drives them to crave human meat?  Does it taste like chicken?  Or more specifically, brains!  Why do so many zombies crave human brains?  And I also wonder, has there ever been a zombie who bore into a human brain, only to sit back and grunt, "Aaargh.  Thisss isss terrrribllllle...!  Wherrre'ssss a Mickey D'ssss?"  And what if a person was a vegan before they were a zombie?  Would they rather carve into a head of lettuce?

The entire idea of a Zombie Apocalypse is so preposterous.  In watching the season finale of "The Walking Dead", there was a production note saying that on the night of filming, the air was so cool, that the breath could be seen from the actors playing the zombies.  So post-production had to go over every frame of film and erase the breathe via CGI.  This raised some questions with me.  If a zombie does not breathe,  how are they able to grunt and groan or in some movies, speak the word "brains".  In order to squeak, squeal, grunt, groan, howl or holler, air needs to pass over the vocal chords.  If the undead don't breath, how are they able to do all of these things?

This isn't the only question to cross my mind, either.  Another logical conclusion seems to be eluded from every zombie-esque type film of television show.  I'm not sure if the subject has been broached in the comic book, that "The Walking Dead" is derived from, but:  With all the meat and brains that zombies take in, do they shit?  Why is it you never see a zombie squatting in a street or an alley or next to a bush, pinching out a soft gooey loaf of shit?  I doubt that they'd wipe off any excess.  They're rotting corpses, after all.  The smell of shit, might be a blessing in comparison.

If zombies do indeed shit, it is possible, I suppose, that they'd do it right in their pants.  Proper hygiene seems pretty low on their list of priorities.  Most of them, don't even comb their own hair.  What they do do, however, is maintain a, somewhat, healthy wardrobe.  Of all the zombie movies I've had the privilege of watching, the zombies have always kept their private parts private.  I'm not some kind of sicko hoping to see naked rotting titties, but one has to wonder.  The clothing always seems to be tattered and torn, but never enough that zombies are left roaming the countryside, au naturel.  It's like the Incredible Hulk, in the sense that Bruce Banner is a smallish man, yet when he loses his cool, and becomes the behemoth man-beast, all his clothes tear away, except for his trousers which stretch to accommodate his incredible size.  Just as the lowly zombie tears and rots away, his trousers (or her pant suit) stays intact just enough to cover the necessities.  I suppose this is a good thing, as zombies tend to "live" off the land, just as beatniks and hippies do.

So that being said.  In the end, I haven't anything to be afraid of.  I can sit idly by in the comforts of my own home, watching my television set and drinking from my glass, safe in the fact that even if a Zombie Apocalypse were to arise, there's nothing to fear, because who's afraid of a f*cking hippy?  Not this guy! 

Laughing Aloud

With the advent of the computer age, life has gotten a lot more manageable.  Tasks have become easier and what was once a common skill, such as handwriting, has fallen by the wayside, as typing has become more prevalent.  Unfortunately, the ability to spell correctly, has not yet been mastered.

Also stepping to the fore-front, is the use of shortcuts. Shortcuts and abbreviations, which are handy in some cases, but increasingly needless in most cases.  In the case of texting and tweeting, I often substitute numbers and single letters for larger words, in an effort to squeeze as much thought into the 140 to 160 character space, but one abbreviation you will NEVER see me use, outside of referencing it for this blog, is the term "LOL". 

Where the hell would the world of comedy be, if you had to end every joke with "LOL" or "Laugh Out Loud". I think most use this term as a method to not offend the reader.  "I think you're a piece of shit!  ...LOL."  If the LOL wasn't added, the reader might be offended, but the LOL adds the element of "I'm just kidding".  Complete horse shit!  It doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand the motivation behind a written sentence or paragraph.  There are millions of books in the world, in thousands of languages, and most of them (if not all), refrain from using "LOL" when trying to make a point of jest.

A friend posted a video of a cute little puppy waiting to be adopted at the local SPCA.  I don't know what kind of dog it is, but he's cute as a button.  Black and white, with one blue eye and one brown.  If the pictures alone don't make your heart melt, the video will.  After viewing the video, I placed a comment on the friends Facebook post, writing that it "was a cruel video because I would love to adopt the little guy, if it weren't for the fact that I'm allergic to dogs," adding that I doubt my cat would appreciate the addition to the household.  I received a response stating that 'it wasn't meant to be cruel'.  I never said it was.

I hate having to explain my comments.  It's a huge pain in the ass, and much of the joviality is lost when having to explain shit to people.  It's like this one friend I have.  You tell him a joke and he just sits there with a blank look in his head.  Then you have to sit down, break down each part of the joke and explain it to him, before (at long last) he laughs, but by this time the joke ceases to be funny.

Far too often, though, I will make questionable wisecracks on Facebook posts, always being met with disdain and misunderstanding.  When did our society become this... this... I don't even know what to call it.  Whenever the LOL is used on me, whether it be text messages or otherwise, I always question the individual to determine if actual laughter was vocalized.  Ninety-nine percent of the time, it is not, to which I scold them for lying.  I did have one friend retract her use of LOL, for a short time, replacing it with LLAR (Laughing Like A Retard).  That's awesome.  I don't know exactly what happens when that happens, but I'd imagine there'd be a lot of drool involved.

Another substitute I got from a Twitter-friend, porn magnate Seymour Butts, was SFIF, which translates to "So Funny I Farted".  I began using that for a short time, because I thought it was humourous, although I have never laughed at something enough to fart.  Pee, sure.  There've been times when a little squirt of urine popped out, but never an outburst of butt gas.

On the rare occasions that I do have an eruption of laughter, I still refrain from typing LOL, instead admitting to "actually laughing aloud".  I think LOL is stupid and will continue to ignore it's use.  What's more annoying yet, however, is when people write it repeatedly. LOL LOL LOL.  This tells me that you're Laugh Out Loud, three times in a row.  LOL in the singular should be suffice.  Anything more, you should be changing it to LHTIGTD (Laughing Hysterically, Think I'm Going To Die), but that's too much to remember for a generation who writes the word "prolly", instead of the word "probably"...

I AM a big user of the smiley face.  I don't know what the motivation is behind that, other than there's not enough smiling in the world.  Then again, it's pretty difficult to smile when you have assholes in the world shooting innocent people, strapping bombs to their asses and blowing up kids, flying planes into buildings, or in extreme cases..., Bill Cosby.  A smile, though, can sooth a lot of tension...  When using the smiley face, the colon : followed by the right parenthesis ), use only one parenthesis, not a whole bunch.  What the f*ck is that supposed to mean?  :))))))  To me, this is a smiling fat guy with 5 chins.  Just looks stupid.  Don't be stupid.

So let's cool it on the over-use of LOL.  If someone is going to be offended by a comment of joviality, then let them get offended.  Chances are, they're too stupid to use logic and deserve to be offended.  At least, THAT'S what I think, and what I think is gospel!! (Laugh Out Loud)