Mother Nature Part 2 / The 4 Way Shits

Seriously. What is going on with the weather right now? I was out playing soccer in a field like three days ago, then yesterday it was snowing, then today it's -100 after calculating windchill from the hurricane-force winds. What the shit? Make up your mind, March. Whoever invented all that comes in like a lion, goes out like a lamb OR it comes in like a lamb and goes out like a lion crap is just an imbecile. Why am I supposed to assume that lions are associated with crappy weather? Why are sheep associated with nice weather? If so, why the hell do sheep have a massive protective layer of wool all over their bodies? Lions just have a lot of stretchy skin. If you ask me, I'd rather have lion weather all the time... Would you rather sunbathe for days at a time, with nary a care in the world, or would you huddle in packs and literally focus on growing your hair longer to protect you from the cold? Give me lion weather anyday. In addition to the rampant stupidity of the lion/lamb distinction, it seems to me that the adage is just completely false. Or if it's true, it's certainly not generalizable to entire months. But I would be okay with people saying things like "Man, Tuesday march the 27th sure did come in like a lion and go out like a lamb!", as long as they meant by lion that it was warm, pleasant weather for which you only need stretchy skin, and by lamb that it was cold, shitty weather for which you need 40 pounds of wool.

You know what the weather in Calgary reminds me of? There was this commercial a while back, and to tell you the truth I can't even remember what the hell it was for, all I know for sure is that the big line in the commercial was an exasperated person yelling "GOES AWAY, COMES BACK, GOES AWAY, COMES BACK, GOES AWAY, COMES BACK!?!?!" I think maybe it was a dandruff commercial? I wonder if selsun blue came up with this beauty. Or maybe it was one of those weight loss commercials, where you see fat people who always say "I'VE TRIED EVERY DIET EVER, AND I JUST CAN'T KEEP THE WEIGHT OFF", and then they mention some dieting yoyo phenomenon, and then they have the exasperated guy with the goes away comes back stuff. Maybe it was a herpes commercial? It wasn't a herpes commercial, but how appropriate would the caption be? I should make commercials.

Ok, my next complaint: 4 way stops and how badly people suck ass at negotiating them. Honestly, how difficult is it to work a 4 way stop. Have you neglected idiots never been to that little kiddy driving thing out near glenmore park? A 5 year old in a bumper car can master the 4-way stop. I don't understand how there's confusion, although I do believe that the rules are somewhat ambiguous in a non-important sort of way. Like, when people say "Well whoever gets there first goes first", they're really wrong in some cases, because if there is a line of 20 cars going in one direction, and one car pulls up on the cross street, that car gets to go before almost all of the cars in the big line, even though they were all there first. So it's something more like "The car which was first to arrive at the intersection and has no cars in front of it impeding its progress will go first." This is pretty god damned simple. Yet every time I hit a 4-way stop, I know someone is going to completely botch it and ruin the next 5 minutes of my life. This is what it's come to, people - every 4 way stop ruins my life for a short period of time. Exactly how much my life is ruined is dependant and directly correlationary to what idiocy actually obtains at the 4-way stop itself.

Scenario 1: You get there and no one goes, because every driver is stupid and they have either forgotten in which order they arrived at the intersection (intersection hierarchy is KEY here people), or they haven't been paying attention because they were picking their ass, or nose, or scratching their armpits, or behind their ear (People always remind me of dogs when they scratch behind their ears), or putting makeup on, or all of the above. So everyone waits about 3.5 seconds, and then every single person at the intersection (even the jackass who JUST ARRIVED AT THE INTERSECTION AND KNOWS IT'S NOT HIS TURN) starts to go. But then everyone sees that everyone else is going and so everyone stops. Rinse, repeat.

Degree of life ruin: This isn't the worst. Sometimes it's kinda funny, like when most or all of the drivers are over the age of 80, or when there's a pedestrian or two in the mix. Annoying, but only in a general sense, and it only really wastes about 10-20 seconds of your life.

Scenario 2: Two people get there at exactly the same time and no one has any clue who's supposed to go. I guess there are two sub-options in this scenario. Sub lemma A) The two drivers are opposite each other, and one is going straight while the other is turning left. Sub lemma B) One driver is to the right of the other one, and the driver on the left is turning any direction but right (Just visualize you idiots). This is incredible. How is it possible that everyone has forgotten the simple rules that govern these situations? Perhaps this is evidence that there is a God, but that he hates me very much. In sub lemma A, all you need to do is remember that the driver who is TURNING has to yield right of way to the guy who's going STRAIGHT. It's just like any other intersection you impudent sacks. Sub lemma B involves the very complicated rule that gives right of way to the person on the right. Doesn't sound complicated, does it? But it MUST BE overly complicated, because no one understands it. Ok people.... hold up your fat little hands and make little L's and backwards L's with your fat little fingers and thumbs, and then once you figure out whether you're on the right or on the left, either go, or don't go. Wow.

Degree of life ruin: Moderate life ruin from each sub lemma. You would think that the first scenario would be more annoying, but this second situation (including both sub lemmas) is so simple that any failure to correctly function in it is disgusting.

Scenario 3: It's your turn, and some loser slice of shit goes ahead of you, cutting you off, for no reason, and then gives you the finger when you honk at him BECAUSE HE'S A FLAMING PILE OF PESTILENT TRAILER PARK DEBRIS. Does this need any explanation? Is there any explanation that could possibly be given for such an act? What kind of indignant, ludicrous stupidity could possibly account for this act of ignorance? Is it simply that they enjoy the sheer look of amazement on my face as I lose just a little bit more hope for the survival of the human race? I have no answers.

Degree of life ruin: QU'EST-CE QUE LE FUCK.

So next time you're at a 4-way stop, you should probably think about what's going on, and maybe pay some attention to the cars around you, etc., not only because it will help ease everyone's way through this apparently difficult manoeuvre, but also because my mail order rocket launcher will be arriving any day, and I am activating my unlimited ammunition cheat as soon as I get it.

Spiker

Dead Babies

There's this big anti-abortion thingy at the university today. They've got a bunch of pictures of tiny dead babies, and these pictures are supposed to deter people from having abortions. "Hey, I would totally have this abortion dude, but one time I saw a really sick picture or an abortion baby so I really can't." As I walked by, some guy was asking them "Why are you here? Why do you have these disgusting pictures?" Among the many stupid responses that were offered, such as "We WANT to shock you, I HOPE you're shocked", the most stupefyingly stupid was "We have a RIGHT to be here, man..." Okay then. As many of you know, I'm a philosophy major, so I obviously have a lot of opinions to offer on this subject, and any other topic which is useless or controversial (or controversial AND useless, like God). To start off, "I'm here because I have the right to be here" is ridiculous. I have the right to wear adult diapers on the outside of my pants. I have the right to stick pencils in my ears and nose and run around going "PIOU PIOUUUU". As Charleton Heston might tell you, I have the right to bear arms. Charleton Heston is a moron. It strikes me as ludicrously ironic that you could make an analogous argument for abortion itself - "I'm getting this abortion because I have a right to!". One problem with this kind of argument, my friends - the right to do something does not necessarily entail that it SHOULD be done, or that it is, in any way, a good idea.

Now that that's taken care of, what about abortion. Is it right or wrong to kill a human foetus? What is the plural of foetus? Foetuses? Feoti? Well, it's just hard to say isn't it. While I could write a whole paper on here about why abortion is or is not morally right, I don't really see the point - In some cases, it seems that abortion is the best thing to do. If you're going to argue against abortion, you need to argue against people's rights to abortion, and say that people should not even have the right to choose; don't appeal to our emotions with big pictures, like you're potty training a 2 year old. You can visit a slaughterhouse and still support the meat industry, folks. The reality of the situation is that sometimes, bringing a baby into the world is far worse than the alternative. I'm not saying we should be using abortion as a method of birth control, I'm saying that if all other alternatives have been exhausted, and this is the only one left to prevent a life of misery, go ahead and do it.

Hey, I just thought of one good thing about the protest outside - at least we know that, while they're here, they're not bombing clinics? Yaaayyyy...

Spiker

PS - I would just like to say that you can't have "Slaughterhouse" without "laughter". Awesome! And on the same note, isn't there always some fun in funerals? Hmmm...

Lonely Shoes

Why is it that, when you see a pair of shoes sitting on the ground in a parking lot, you wonder which homeless guy forgot to throw his sleeping shoes in his Safeway cart before he went to buy a 40 of Alberta Vodka, but when you see just ONE shoe sitting on the ground in a parking lot, you feel sad. It's like you know what the shoe is going through, it's been separated from its other half, its life could now never possibly be complete again, unless it is reunited with its best friend and counterpart. Maybe we feel sad because even a pair of disgusting homeless guy shoes are useful; they have some purpose in the world, even if that purpose is to warm the disease ridden, festering, wart laden, pustuled, pockmarked, overly-moist-but-still-cracking-from-dryness, toenails-in-every-direction feet of a homeless man. The solitary shoe is not useful. It's like half of a person. But not the top, or bottom half, which arguably could function in some half-decent manner (puntastic), but more like the left and right half, neither able to perform any useful function without the other, because they are missing necessary functional parts (Here I'm envisioning some man who has been cut completely in half, from head to toe, probably by a massive Spartan with a really sharp sword. Yeah, I saw 300). For instance, after losing your legs in a horrendous accident, you can still function as a human being. And what many of us men wouldn't give to have the bottom half of Britney Spears. Especially after she shaved her head - it might now in fact be more useful than Britney Spears as a whole. Hmmm...

Sorry, what the hell was I talking about? Right. In the same light as a north-south cleaved corpse, one shoe is utterly useless and this is why we feel sorry for it, as we might for a lost puppy. Especially if the puppy had also been cleaved completely in half by a massive Spartan man who's abs alone weigh two hundred pounds. Man, 300 was great.

Talking about feeling sad for shoes reminds me of that IKEA commercialm where the Swedish guy berates you for feeling sorry for the lamp which was taken out with the garbage when a new lamp was purchased at IKEA. Analogously, we are all idiots for feeling sorry for the solitary shoe. What can I say - the commercial is just right. You might feel sorry for the solitary shoe; but that's because you're crazy.

Spiker

First World Blues

Remember that post I wrote about letting fly in public washrooms? Well I had an almost equally awkward experience the other day that I'd like to share with you. By the way, have you ever noticed that the word "awkward" is, pleasingly, a very awkward word? Even with my massive philosophical vocabulary, a fantastic plethora of verbalities at my command, I can't even think of another real word that has the string of letters "wkw". I made up a bunch of fake ones though, like if I found a bird that lived in snow, I might call it a "Snowkwall".

Back to my awkward experience. Elevators. What the hell are you supposed to do in elevators? You walk into an elevator and there are, as I see it, three obvious possibilities:

1) There is no one else in the elevator. You enjoy your ride, maybe dance a little bit just because you can, maybe hit ten or twelve buttons on the way out, again just because you can, and you go merrily on your way. This is pretty fun. If someone else enters the elevator before your floor, please see possibility #3 for explanation.

2) The elevator is full, or nearly full. You squeeze in, or try and squeeze in, or just stare longingly at the passengers because you know that your huge ass could never fit into the tiny spaces that exist between the sweaty people inside. That's because you're fat and you need to get on the god damned exercise bike more than once a month, since riding the exercise bike once a month does NOTHING except make the seat smell funny. If you do make it inside the elevator, your personal space is so infringed upon that you get the distinct feeling you're in prison. You breathe a sigh of relief as you finally arrive at your floor, and you squeeze back out before the guy eating the chili dog can burp down the back of your shirt again. This is pretty awkward, but you do feel something akin to a sense of community, as everyone else's personal space was completely violated as well. You are only one among many, who out of sheer laziness have ridden the elevator to the second floor. That wasn't really so bad. Six out of ten on the awkward scale. Would this be a logarithmic scale? I don't know. I'll have to think about that one... No, probably not. Yeah, just a standard scale will do. Ok then.

3) The doors of the elevator open and there is one person already on the elevator. You step into the elevator and you feel as if you're stepping into someone's bedroom - it reeks of personal space. And maybe dirty undies. As you hit the button you can't help but feel that you simply do not belong here, as if you're trespassing on personal property. You feel as if you've done something wrong but you don't really know what, or why. The other person feels the same way - this was his elevator just moments ago, and now someone else has invaded it, and he can no longer dance like an idiot for no reason because he will be judged accordingly. Each person feels like moving as far away as possible from the other person. This is supremely awkward all on its own, trying to figure out just how far to stand from someone in a small room, calculating the exact distance that will minimize tension while maintaining social respect; if you go too far, the other person will think you don't like them, or that they smell or look funny. If you stay too close, well, then you're a creep. Finally there's the matter of where to look while you're in the elevator. Do you sheepishly look straight down at your own shoes, trying to imagine what they might look like if you were alone in the elevator and able to dance like an idiot? Do you look up at the elevator numbers as they climb (or descend, but then you should have taken the stairs anyway, fatass) excruciatingly slowly? Why are there never any advertisements in elevators? Wouldn't that be an excellent way to pass the time, just read about the new Chanel fragrance "Je-ne-sais-quoi"? At least then you could pretend that you were thinking about anything other than the substantial awkwardness of the situation.

Here's something that you don't ever do. You don't ever directly face another person for no reason, even if you're looking at the wall just beside their head. Since the other person is not looking at you, they JUST MIGHT THINK that you're staring at them like a circus side show freak, and this JUST MIGHT make the elevator trip intensely more awkward than it need be. Imagine my surprise when the other guy in the elevator gets in, stands beside me, and just stares at the side of my face for 12 floors. Eventually I looked over, and for some inexplicable reason, he was scanning the completely empty wall near my head. And then, of course, he saw that I was looking at him, so he looked at me, and then we both looked away, and then he realized that I thought he was staring at me, and then he tried to be all nonchalant about it so that I would think he wasn't staring at me, but that didn't work since I already judged him to be a circus side show freak.

Well, the moral of this story is, take the stairs. You're fat, and elevators are almost as awkward as having an androgynous co-worker named Pat. And if you do take the elevator, don't be a circus side show freak and stare at the person next to you. This has been a public service announcement

Spiker