Brown Eye Sees Red

Although it may sound like what I'm about to declare is cynical, I assure you that this is not the case.  Simply put, throughout my life I've observed many people and things, resulting in my having certain attitudes and beliefs.  Many, or more likely, most people will disagree and this is where the label of Cynic would be bestowed upon me.

I don't believe in God, Jesus or Heaven and Hell.  The likelihood that once upon a time there was a dude named Jesus, is possible.  Hell, you could go down any street in the greater Los Angeles area, call out that name and a half dozen fellas of Latin decent will respond, so the likelihood of one existing in the "biblical" age, is possible.  He probably wouldn't have been found at a Home Depot....  Although, Jesus WAS a carpenter, wasn't he? 🤔  Hmm.  Subject for another day.

I also do not believe in coincidences, accidents or luck.  Not good luck, anyway.  I am somewhat superstitious.  Not to the point that I believe Friday the 13th to be cursed, nor do I think it unfortunate if a black cat crosses my path.  However, I do think that if I break a mirror I will receive seven years of bad luck, although with a good lawyer, you might get that reduced to three years with good behaviour. 😄 [Insert comedic rimshot here 🥁].  I think Wednesdays tend to be the worst day of the week for me, but have improved over the course of the last year, so perhaps I can lay that one to rest.  And red underwear promotes diarrhea.

"WAIT!! What was that last one?" you all are probably saying to yourselves. "Red underwear does what now?" 

I've discovered through trial and error that consistently, whenever I leave the house wearing red underwear, I usually will have an accident or what is called in the armed forces as a near miss.  Today I had a near miss and I will tell you all about it.

It was dark and I was still half asleep when I dressed myself for work, this morning, so I never noticed what colour of undies I was stepping into.  I got to work and everything went as planned.  I arrived downtown late and missed the shuttle back to the garage, so I waited.  When I finally got back to the Operations Center where we keep the buses, I had to go inside to fill out the sheet for overtime.  It was when I was returning to my vehicle to come home when I felt a little pfft.  A little fart snuck out like a teen sneaking out her bedroom window to see the bad boy her parent disapprove of.  Only the aftermath of this sneaky little ripper felt... off.  I stopped dead in my tracks, standing in the middle of the parking lot looking perplexed.  It wasn't until I sat down in my vehicle before I realized what had actually happened.  If the wetness I felt in my undercarriage wasn't enough to convince me, the stench certainly did.  Woof!! 😬

What's done was done.  No getting around that.  I had planned on stopping off at the grocer on the way home and decided to follow through with that plan rather than racing home.  I figured I could salvage my situation in the public restroom before going home.

Have you ever had to "go" really bad and as soon as you arrived at home, it's like your body believes it's okay to open the flood gates before you get to the restroom?  That never happened to me, but like I said, today's debacle was a near miss.

The moment I parked my truck and began my trek into the store, the same thing occurred.  My body thought it was time to unleash the Hounds of Hell at which moment, I tightly clenched my cheeks and I'm not talking about the rosy red ones on my face.  Now I had to quickly make my way inside the store, walking only from the knees down and very little movement everywhere else.  It was all eyes straight forward, avoid eye-contact with everyone and steer straight into the bathroom.  You avoid eye-contact because at moments like these, everyone becomes psychic and they suddenly know you're in peril and will either intervene, forcing the matter to be even more intense.  Or they'll stand back and stare with judging eyes.  Either way, I don't wish to engage.

Before the door was completely open, I saw a sign stating the toilet was out of order.  "Oh shit!!" I said aloud, but then noticed there were two stalls.  A reprieve!!  After removing my heavy coat and gloves is when I discovered the aftermath AND that I was wearing red underwear. 

I ate a salad on the weekend.  Within a few hours, the lettuce and everything had vacated my body and it wasn't pleasant.  At the time, I believed that it was because I may have put too much dressing on the salad.  I'd shaken the bottle so instead of thick ranch dressing oozing out of the bottle, it was a liquified ranch that came rushing out of the bottle.  So last night, when I finished off the pack of salad, I used much less dressing, even adding croutons and cheese to the blend.  So when I discovered the tragedy that had occurred in my skivvies, I was bewildered.

Later in the day, I had to consult Google as to whether salads cause diarrhea and guess what?  I was not the first person to pose this query to the search engine, nor am I the lone wolf affected by this.  Apparently, because salads are high in fibre, it promotes bowel movements and because lettuce has high water content, the afore mentioned bowel movements are often liquified.

🤨 The shit you learn...  Pardon the pun.

I finished out my tasks, including filling up with fuel.  The nastiness was behind me (Again, pardon the pun.)  I had makeshift protection in my pants in the form of folded T.P., which got me thinking about a product to pitch to the folks on Shark Tank.  A protection pad for men.  Similar to those pads that the ladies use, only these would be designed to guard against sharting.  It happens way too often.  Hell, I remember missing my best friend's son's baptism because I sharted on the way to the church.  That was not a near miss.  The attack that day struck with heavy vengeance.  Today's nastiness was mainly water, I believe, but this is bordering on T.M.I..

I had initially called them Shart Pads, but quickly changed the name to Shartnado Pads. [Patent Pending 😉] It's just a catchier name.  

Religious Persecution

In recent years, the world has been going to hell in a hand basket.  Everyone is tip-toeing around, afraid to say certain phrases or make certain gestures for fear of making someone uncomfortable.  People aren't allowed to politely wish someone a Merry Christmas, as it may offend someone of another faith.  Schools no longer present Christmas pageants for adoring parents to watch their younglings stumble and stammer over difficult dialogue and terrible costuming, for it may offend someone who doesn't believe in the birth of Christ. Churches aren't even aloud to display manger scenes on the front lawns of their own grounds.  Soon it'll be taboo to position a Christmas tree in the front window if the curtains are to be left open.  Simply put...  What the f*ck is wrong with people these days?

I've never backed down from the admission that I don't believe in God or Jesus or any of that religious hooey.  I don't fault others for believing in it.  If it gives you peace, love and happiness to believe in an invisible man who created everything in the world, and nothing was ever created by mankind themselves, then that's you're prerogative.  I don't need to believe it, nor do I give two shits if you do.  I will say, though, some of my fondest memories of growing up, were from performing, albeit poorly, in those Christmas pageants.

(*I know it's politically correct to say "humankind" now, but I don't give a shit.)

I can respect any person who felt it necessary to flee from whatever backwards country or regime where their own self-preservation felt threatened.  I can respect the fact that they have found solace and safety within the borders of Canada or the U.S. or any country that embraces free will and expression.  I cannot respect any person who relocates to my country or any of those listed, and finds it necessary to impose their beliefs and wills on us, just so they don't feel persecuted.  That makes these selfish motherf*ckers no better than the oppression they fled from.  If some middle-eastern bloke wishes to wear a turban and pray to the east twice a day, that's fine, but if I choose to wish you a Merry Christmas, then suck it up and say thank you.  It's not the words themselves that mean the most.  It's the good will behind those words.  It's so rare to find genuine kindness in people anymore, that when this time of year roles around, if someone expresses pleasantries towards another, those words should be met with the same form of kindness.  DON'T raise a stink and start a campaign to ban the words.

Words do have multiple meanings, for f*ck sake!  Even the F-word itself has multiple meanings, as you can learn from this link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26UA578yQ5g 

Another example would be the word "fag".  If you go to Dictionary.com, you'll see one of the many meanings for the word, is a verb to describe one growing weary or tired from a laborious task.  Another meaning is to fray the end of a rope.  When used as a noun, it is used to describe a cigarette or a defective piece of woven cloth.  As you read this, were you aware of these meanings or were you like me, and only believed the word to be an offensive term bestowed upon the gay community.  I'd always thought it was a bastardized term derived from the meaning of "happiness" or "fun", like in the Flintstones Theme (ie. ...You'll have a yabba-dabba-doo time, you'll have a gay... ol'... time).  Even the word "faggot" means: A bundle.  Be it sticks, cloth, or even iron bars.  I even read that it refers to balled up pork bound by herbs and breading then deep fried.  That faggot sounds delicious!

Another example was presented last year during the NBA 2011-2012 season, where a player of Asian decent showed great promise and agility.  He'd been overlooked and sold short by teams before, and even his new team, the New York Knickerbockers, had considered cutting him, but after a barrage of injuries to the roster, The Knicks gave Jeremy Shu-How Lin an opportunity to play, and the sensational Season of Lin-sanity and Lin-vincibility was born.  Jeremy proceeded to play absolutely Lin-credible for many of the games that were to follow.  Then there was the game where it was destined for the New York Knicks to lose a game.  A color-commentator remarked that the opposing team had found a "chink in their armor".  Well the accusations began to fly that this commentator was a bigot and so forth.  If you look up the word "chink", it clearly refers to: a crack, cleft or fissure;  a narrow opening; to breach, rent or cut.  It even refers to the sound of two glasses coming together, as in a toast.  At the bottom of the page, it does mention that it's also a disparaging and offensive term for someone of Asian decent.  But come on.  Shit like that is only used by the uneducated and uncultured folks.  You know...?  Like rednecks!

In the city where I reside, the city transit have digital message boards that display the route of the bus, as well as other messages.  If our local hockey team is doing well, the message may read "Go Blades!!!"  I'm not a Blades fan, but I'm not going to raise a stink over the fact that others like and support the team.  On July 1st, they read "Happy Canada Day!"  That's cool.  At during the Christmas season, they read "Merry Christmas!!!" and that is fine with me.

If anyone is a hater and does not approve of the message of good will, then may I make a suggestion.  Instead of disagreeing and raising an Anti-Christmas campaign and threatening a lawsuit, as this local f*ck-nut, Ashu Solo is doing in Saskatoon, do us all a favour and either go the f*ck back to whatever shit-hole you came from or step in front of one of these city buses that you're so offended by.  Either way, we won't have to listen to your bellyaching anymore.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!!!
(And if you have a problem with that, I don't give a shit!)

God Has A Sense Of Humour

On my refrigerator, I have a cartoon that I cut out of the newspaper a few years ago. It's faded and turned yellow, and the corners are beginning to curl up, but I never want to get rid of the cartoon, because as humorous as it is, it also rings an astounding truth. It depicts God on a talk show. He replies to the host's question about his greatest creation. "I think my best creation was the Sense of Humor. The irony, of course, is that the people who claim to believe in me the most, are the ones least likely to have one..."

I learned this morning on CNN, that the idiots at the Westboro Baptist Church, are planning on protesting the funeral of the late-Jackass star, Ryan Dunn. The sickened me, as why can't these f*cking people leave well enough alone?

For those unfamiliar with these rude and obnoxious assh*les, let me refresh your memory. These are the people who protest military funerals, stating that the soldiers "deserved to die", that they died, because "America is soft on gays" and so on, and so on. If you google them, you will see a wide variety of shit that they oppose. They protested John Edwards' late wife who died from breast cancer, they held signs up high that read, "Thank God for Breast Cancer!" Just like they hold up signs praising the 9/11 tragedy, and thank God for war and other stupid shit. Ironic that they protest the funerals of the men and women who are fighting for the very freedom that they are abusing.

Because this conglomeration of idiots and fools, disapproved of the crazy and zany antics and stunts that Ryan Dunn partook in while participating on the Jackass television show and movies, they are claiming that he "deserved to die", and that he's "currently in Hell". I really doubt this is the case.

I'm by no means a religious person, and it's f*ckheads like these folks that make wanting to be a part of any religion a tough call, BUT...! I believe that IF there is a higher power, then that dude has one helluva sense of humour! I look at the Platypus and think, this dude is one hilarious f*cking guy!!! So that being said, I'm sure that God is sitting atop a cloud, somewhere in the heavens, laughing at the guy who stuck a toy car up his ass and went to the doctor for an x-ray!!!

These people..., if you can call them that. The Westboro Baptist Church. They gotta show some f*ckin' respect. They didn't like it a while back when a former military man began stalking them, doing to them, the very shit they've been thrusting onto others. In fact, they had the man arrested and charged. Pretty ballsy, huh?

I can't help but wonder about the consequences of their protest. I've got all of Bam Margera's "Viva La Bam" on DVD. I've seen some of the heinous shit that he's pulled on his friends and family. And he loves them. What do you think Bam Margera, who's a multi-millionaire, might be capable of, in regards to those who would desecrate the memory of one of his best friends...? I think Dunn was more like a family member, than a friend. I think the Westboro clan may be in for some serious shit. To coin the phrase from his show, "Who knows what Bam might do?" "Whatever the f*ck, I want!!"

Look out f*ckers!!!