Your Questions - Answered

Hello, my few (and probably not proud.  I mean, this blog is either your guilty pleasure or something you read as a form of self-torture) blog-readers.  This post contains answers for you brave enough to ask questions in the comment box of one of my previous posts.  True, two of my askers were my parents, so the one outside my bloodline gets extra credit in the class of life.

Alright, first up:

Q: You are given $500K. How would you spend/save/give it? Are there any causes dear to you or principles you would work toward? What would you do with part of it that would be frivolous?

A: Right off the bat, I put $250K in the bank to save for future medical bills or the like.  Next, I give some to the Mill Dog Rescue.  Third, I'd probably buy a dog from Mill Dog Rescue.  As for frivolousness (yes, that's a real word; look it up) I would launch my own TV show on either CartoonNetwork or Nickelodeon.  Lastly, I'd hug the dude who gave me this $500K so hard he'd start fighting back.  And when he fought back, I'd have to dip into that previously mentioned $250K to pay for my brokenness.

Q: Why is Barney's skull 3" wide since it only has a brain the size of a pea?

A: (For those of you who don't know who Barney is, take a look at this hot mess:)

The answer to your question lies in the principle of his utter hotness.  He got the good looks (3" skull included), while his siblings got other attributes like brains, agility, endurance, and seeing ghosts--but they all look more or less like Lady GaGa after her concussion.

Q: Shouldn't "health care" really be called disease management? What would happen if society supported real health care with fewer working/school hours, less homework, more time outside, purposeful physical activity, creative pursuits, and healthy food?

A:  Dear Sir/Ma'am--

This is a blog, not a research paper.  But the answer is as follows: 

The USA would raise a generation of strong, intelligent people, who would rise up and conquer every other country that is unhealthy by comparison.  We would achieve world domination, but quickly fall to communism.  A literal underground railroad would be established where people go to escape the government and eat junk food, which, up until that point, has been outlawed.  This would continue until the apocalypse, when only a few survivors pick through society's ruins in gas masks. 
(This blog and its owners/affiliates not responsible for any grades achieved using this information)

Christmas

What can I say?  I guess I'm not the kind of person who's naturally holiday-ready.  While Christmas is, without a doubt, my favorite holiday of the year, in lieu of recent experiences, I'm starting to wonder about its true value.

For one thing, Christmas in general is too oversold nowadays.  It's about getting (want proof?  Watch an AFV Christmas Special), and something about my personal Christmas is ruined when I think about the brats who are crying over not getting what they wanted when their parents spent over 100 dollars in presents for each of them.  And the epidemic isn't restrained to just the kids who are "too young to know better."  The 8+ set is guilty, too!  I mean, they don't even pay for Mom and Dad's gifts, but think they have the power to scrutinize their presents like nobody's business. 

And then we have Santa Claus.  Ha!  More like Scare-Your-Pants-Off Claus.  Miracle on 34th Street framed him perfectly, but modern representations are seriously scary.  (Except Invader Zim.  No, that's just plain truth.)

On a more personal level, we now turn to wish lists.  I tried my best to get out of making one this year, but of course I couldn't completely escape the task and the mental block attached.  All year I see things in stores and wonder if I'll remember them for Christmas or my birthday, and then December or April comes along and I don't.  So, I stare at my computer/sheet of paper with a blank face for 7+ hours, not really knowing what to say but knowing that wish lists are now homework--turning in a blank sheet will earn you an F in holiday shopping.

But all pessimistic opinions aside, I really am looking forward to this Christmas.  There's definitely a lot to appreciate this year, especially looking back on the several times I almost died (no joke). 

Also, out of writer's block, I asked for some very strange things this year.  It'll be interesting to see how my family handles it.

Checkers for Real

I apologize in advance for any damage to your childhood.

Ever think about checkers?  Like, seriously ponder it.  What if it were a real-life thing?  Let me play this out for you.  We've got ourselves a battlefield, upon which soldiers rush to the other end in order to move up in rank and better slaughter their enemies.  When a soldier falls, his corpse is hauled away by the opposing side for later use.

A soldier we'll call Jedidiah (don't ask why) has reached the opposing side and is ready to be kinged.  He shouts to a nearby enemy commander: "King me!"

The commander is not pleased with Jedidiah's outburst but is a virtuous person and prides himself on following agreed-upon rules.  He spins and calls to a nearby medic standing off-field, "Martha, get this boy a crown!"  Martha runs off.  She goes into the commander's fortress and down to the dungeon.  After some deliberation, she chooses a dead ranger (spear through the heart, if you must know), throws him over her shoulder like a sack of flour, and rushes back to the battle scene.  The commander is too far away for her to speak with, but Jedidiah is still in his spot by the back wall, tapping his foot impatiently.

Martha sighs and walks along the top of the wall until she's standing right above our hero.  "You've been kinged, sire!" she says without emotion, trying to hold in her grief at conceding an enemy's advantage.  With an unwomanly heave of her muscles (Lord only knows how she got those, being a medic and all), she pitches the ranger's carcass over the wall, and it falls squarely on Jedidiah's head.  He belts a war screech and darts back into the fray, all the while balancing his pierced ally on his shoulders.

As the battle drags on, Jedidiah begins to lead his side to victory.  More and more are kinged, and Martha begins to tire of her constant runnings to the corpse storage vault.  Finally, the vault is empty.  She gasps and rushes to the commander, who is near the edge of the battlefield again.

"Commander, what'll we do?" she asks.  "There are no more enemy corpses, and a young gentleman is waiting for his crown  at the wall."

The commander is not pleased with this news and, in rage, leaps over an enemy soldier and bludgeons him to death.  "Help me toss this over there," he commands Martha, forgetting for a moment that she is a woman and shouldn't engage in corpse-pitching.

Together, they send the not-quite-dead man onto the impatient soldier's head.  If the unlucky gent wasn't dead already, the knock to the new king's armor did him in.

See what I mean?  Leaving you to decide for yourself who pulled it out of the bag and won the battle, doesn't checkers suddenly seem like a very R-rated game?  Who thought this stuff up?  Even I couldn't come up with something so blatantly gruesome as  checkers, and I just wrote that whole scene up there.

Don't even get me started on Duck Duck Goose.

Out of Context

I heard one of the strangest things the other day.  I'll admit I absolutely love it when I overhear snippets of conversation completely out of context.  It's really entertaining.

(In Chicago O'Hare Airport) Random Dude In Line Behind Me: "They're always out of trash cans by like, 9 a.m."

I don't even.  Really, what could he have possibly been talking about?  Perhaps roadkill.  Think about it--Guy #1 says, "The new road cleanup facility is really small.  They have to put the dead things from each returning truck into Dumpsters to wait for the garbage guys."  Then Random Dude In Line Behind Me says, "Yeah, I heard.  Supposedly, they're short on Dumpsters, so they have to put the corpses anywhere they can to wait for pickup.  They're always out of trash cans by like, 9 a.m."

Yeah, that's probably what it was.