Teen Apathy and Happy Trees

Just a quick recap of this weekend’s happenings for all of you Halloween hooligans. The bulk of Saturday morning was spent waiting in line at the DMV in hopes of attaining a shiny new VA license. My hopes were nearly shattered when I glanced into the fancy eyetesting machine and swore I saw something written in Arabic. Now, I am the first to admit that my eyesight isn’t the best, even with glasses, but after that test, I think I may now qualify for that legally blind tax credit.

My redemption was teen apathy. Generally frowned upon by society, the young man behind the counter, obviously didn’t care. Here is a recount of the exchange:

Clerk: Please read line one.
Me: HKGC, wait a minute, is that a 2? Are there numbers in this thing?
Clerk: What? No. Please read line one.
Me: That 2 just disappeared completely, I think I need new glasses.
Clerk.: Just read the line.
Me: I don’t think I can.
Clerk: Read the line.
Me: HCG Tilda 2 smileyface LOL #
Clerk: Close enough.

The afternoon was spent afro shopping for my Bob Ross costume. Did you know that afros come in 2 sizes? Giant and Enormous?

I went with giant. I was really on the fence about the costume. Honestly, I think my Halloween spirit was MIA or perhaps the cough medicine I have been consuming intravenously is suppressing it. Anyhow, my biggest concern about Bob Ross is that these young’ns were weened on MTV not PBS and by and large the PBS painter and his happy trees would go unrecognized. Then I saw Bob Ross on a screen printed T-shirt at target. Nothing screams commercialism like a screen print t-shirt from target (except for a screen print t-shirt from wal-mart). That pretty much sealed the deal for me.

What if...

Every once and awhile someone asks a question.

A question that forever changes the social landscape of the world we live in.

Questions that most people are afraid to ask and more afraid to know the answer.

Last night I thought of a question, a question that today, I pose to the loyal denizens of Topic15.

A question that has zero relevance to the aforementioned criteria, but is thought provoking nonetheless...

What if...

What if, for just once...

What if, for just once, you substituted Old English 800 Malt liquor for water in a humidifier, even if it was just for one night?

Inquiring minds want to know.

Is anyone brave enough to step up to the plate for this experiment?

A Pulitzer Prize or perhaps a Darwinian Award may be just one night away!

For the love of money...

All right first things first, a celebratory whoopty whoop for the reincarnation of the humble topic15.

Holla!

Now barring any further pomp and circumstance, let's get back to the discussions of what's what and unequivocal truths in this world vis-a-vis the observations of the one and only benster.

A qoute recently circulated around the office stating something to the effect of "throw enough money at people and they are liable to do anything." Nevermind the context of its origin. It's true, oh yes, it's true.

I can think of no finer example than from my worldly travels to India in search of the elusive Johnny Three Legs 40, which was banned from domestic shipment many years ago.

During my international excusion I had a brief pit stop outside of Deli when I saw a man attacked by a monkey all over a twinkie incident, but I digress.

I was standing outside of the red fort when I was approached by and elderly man who emerged from the shadows. In an almost trance state he began reciting various architectural characteristics of the fort. Just before I could question where the hell he was going with all of his jibba-jabba he says this to me..."The top of the fort wall is 200 feet from the ground, if you give me 300 rupees I will jump from the top of the wall." Bear in mind that 300 ruppees is maybe 10 bucks on a good day.

So I said, you got a deal, but I'm no pre-paying sucka. You have to jump before I hand over the scratch.

Now if you look carefully, you can see superman mid flight in the picture above. He jumped into that cesspool of a moat and being a man of my word, I handed over his money.

Decisions, Decisions...

Shocking as it may seem, Halloween is less than two weeks away, which means it is time to come up with an idea for a costume in pretty short order. I've set the bar pretty high for the past three consecutive years…Vanilla ice (complete with ICE shaved in the back of my cabeza), Mr. T (yes with a Mohawk), and who can forget the loveable Gangsta Cow (eet mor chikn btchiz).


While no clear winners have emerged from the pack, here is a sampling of this year's current contenders…

Gary Busey—requirements include wax teeth, a blinding Hawaiian shirt, bed head, and copious amounts of whiskey. The good thing about being Busey is that it pretty much gives you carte blanch to do whatever the F' you want and you could always chalk it up to "I was just trying to be authentic." The bad thing is you will end up in jail by 9:30 PM.

Dirty Sanchez—the beauty of this costume is in its simplicity, a sharpie mustache, a Sanchez jersey, and a good roll in the mud is all you need. Most unfortunately, this costume has a severe drawback, and no I am not referring to inevitably having to explain to you parents what a dirty sanchez is when your friends share their online photo albums. Oh no, the real problem is irony and the distinct possibility of falling victim to an authentic dirty sanchez at some point during evening. Thanks, but I'll pass.

NunCowboyPirate---Yeeehaw-praise Jesus-Arrrrrrrrgh! Who doesn't love a Nun-Cowboy-Pirate? Give me a habit, a Stetson, an eyepatch and a hook hand and when asked what I am supposed to be, I'll reply "a fireman of course." Pro—it combines three ordinary costumes into one hot a$$ ensemble. Con—too high brow for the audience to truly appreciate.

Darth Gader (pronounced gay-dar)—I am secure enough in my manhood to own pink pants, so why not show up to the party as darth vader's effeminate cousin? Take one darth vader costume and some pink spray paint and you are one fierce jedi slayer. Unfortunately I am not THAT secure in my manhood.

I've had a few other ideas, but due to decency laws, I will refrain from posting them.

Maybe I will join the masses and buy an off the shelf costume from target. I did see a pretty swank David Hasselhof get-up last time I was there.

Any one hear of this book?

The Fourth Turning--if so what are your thoughts?

Sonnawa...

Comcast is hatin on a brother's modem right now, so I am still in blog denial.

Enjoy this while you wait for topic15 to emerge like a phoenix from the ashes.

He he he!

Coming soon...Return of topic15

We move into the new crib tonight and cable guy comes tomorrow which means wez bez back in bidness real soon now ya hear!

In the meantime here's a good joke to tell a priest...


What's a cat's favorite color?

Puuuuuuurrrple.


Conversely, here's a real tasteless joke...

What's the definition of Rolaids?

Rock Hudson in a wheel chair.

Yeah, go ahead hand me my pitch fork and I will get in line.

LOST pt II

Yeah I know, stick to your knitting...the blog should be back up and running with that mad crazy old school flava in a few days.

In the meantime, ponder this observation per last night's epi of lost...

During the orientation film, the narrator discusses the nature of the Dharma program (ie that damn hatch) as being a research facility dedicated to the enlightenment of mankind and furthering the works of the likes of B.F. Skinner.

That kat had quite a rep among the psychological community and he was stirring isht up until his very last days. His game was based in operant conditioning and he was well known for his Skinner's box, a box that would contain an animal that would be trained to press a button or lever to elicit a response.

He argued that people don't make decisions on their own, but rather they are conditioned to make decisions based on external stimuli that would result in some sort of reward/punishment avoidance.

Is there some parallel between a pigeon locked in a box pecking a keyboard and that dude in the hatch pressing keys? I guess time will tell.

4 8 15 16 24 42 execute. peck peck peck