Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Just A Thought

I was just noticing the way that the microwave has the power to turn regular bread into this rubbery, tough, indestructable substance, and it occured to me:

Why don't we start microwaving pitas and making shoes out of them? It's gotta be cheaper than leather, and in a pinch, you can eat them (or at least, gnaw on them).

Thursday, March 10, 2005

Just in case you were wondering...

A friend sent me one of these "getting to know you" emails tonight. These are the email equivilant of having a recurring rash that burns like shit but erupts chocolate syrup. Every time one pops up part of you goes "aw crap a rash," and part of you goes "Yummy! Chocolate!"

Hmm. Okay, the image of licking up chocolate that's erupting out of your own skin turns out to be more disgusting than I anticipated. Let's ignore that unfortunate metaphor and move on, shall we?

Anyway, just for shits and giggles, I'm going to answer my own little chocolate rash here in the blog. This particular questionaire reads like it was written by a 14-year-old with a drug obsession, so I'm going to feel free to omit any questions that make my brain itch.

Warning: This goes on a bit. If you're short on time, well... If you're short on time, what are you doing spending your precious time reading my blog? Get outside! Life is short!!!

Name: John Francis Baker III (odd fact: though my dad, grandad and I all share a name, none of us have ever really gone by John. My grandad was always Jack, my dad goes by Jay, and I pretty much go by Baker. That'll show up on Jeopardy one night, so take note.)

Birthday: September 11, 1972. Feel free to send me a card if you're not busy remembering the day of infamy.

Birthplace: Baltimore, Maryland.

Current Location: Baltimore, Maryland. Ah, shut up. I'll leave one of these days. I just doen't feel like it yet. Yeah, that's the ticket...

At this point, the survey lobs a couple of real hard-hitters concerning my hair color, shoe size and what hand I use to scratch my balls. I'll skip these questions with the absolute confidence that whatever answers you imagine will be more interesting than the truth.

The Shoes You Wore Today: are in terrible shape. I just went out and bought new shoes the other day, in fact. I can't wear these new shoes yet because I'm waiting for the nice little foreign man at the mall to install lifts on the right-hand (or foot) shoes. This is because one little known fact about me is that I came out of the womb asymetrical from the knees down. Nasty, huh?

Your Weaknesses: A love of ice cream in all its many forms and a tendancy to mistake myself for somebody terribly interesting.

Your Fears: That there is absolutely nothing after death and that we simply cease to be.

Your Perfect Pizza: Cut in six equal pieces.

Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger: "You call that exploding-midget porn? Now THIS is exploding-midget porn."

Thoughts First Waking Up: Usually involves weighing my need to pee against my need to stay in bed.

Your Best Physical Feature: My huge gut. My giant nose. My receeding hairline. The hair creeping out of my ass. What a stupid question.

Your Most Missed Memory: How can I miss a memory? If I remember it then it's not missed. The dopey 14-year-old slacker who wrote this gets a slap.

Now we get a solid run of "blah or blah" questions. Pepsi or Coke, Cappucino or Coffee... Yawn. I'm going to replace these with the only questions that really help you learn anything about a person.

Cake or Pie: Most definitely pie.

John or Paul: Paul.

There. That tells you everything you need to know. And yet we continue...

Do you Smoke: Not only do I not smoke, but smoking disgusts me to the very core of my being. I grew up in a house where I was surrounded by it and I feel like I spent my entire childhood trying to flee from the constantly encroaching suffocating smoke. I'd rather put a gun to my head than smoke.

Do you Swear: Go fuck yourself.

Do you Sing: Everybody sings. The question is, do you sing well? The answer is, not half as well as I think I do.

Do you Shower Daily: If I didn't, I wouldn't admit it here.

Have you Been in Love: I am in love. Every day, a little bit more.

Now I'm going to skip a whole raft of questions pertaining to what I want to be when I grow up. I'm not going to assume that I am fully (or even really partially) grown up yet, but most of these questions really don't work if you're not, you know... a 14-year-old dipshit. There's also a whole pointless chunk about my drug experience that we'll move right past. I have none. Nor do I want any.

Do you like Thunderstorms: Now here's a question I like. I like this one because I used to have recurring dreams about being sheltered from a storm. Like, it's a crazy thunderstorm outside, but I'm safe in a warm tent or something. So I'll answer the question about thunderstorms by saying that I like shelter.

Do you play an Instrument: I play the bass guitar. I've been playing for something like 15 years now and I suck.

Next we have a whole bunch of questions that begin with "In the past month have you..." Such as, "in the past month have you gone on a date," or "been to a mall..." I know that none of this survey interests you, but if you think you're bored now, just wait until I describe my past month to you. Snooze-a-rama. I'm going to delete all of those questions, except this one, which caught my eye:

In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: This raises an interesting question. What exactly do you call the packaging that Oreos come in? I don't think it's a box. It's really more of a bag, but it's wrapped around this rigid plastic tray. What is that then? Not a bag, not a box... Certainly not a can... Feel free to comment on this one. I can tell that this is one of those big important cosmic questions that humanity needs answered.

How do you want to die: I'd like to die as late as possible.

What country would you most like to visit: My own. There's still so much America I haven't seen...

There's a whole bunch of questions now about what I look for in a boy or a girl. I'll skip them because I'm married to my best friend, and right now all I need is that feeling I get when I see her face and know in my heart that I'm home. (Stop barfing, you insensitive bastards.) There's also another round of questions about my drug experience. I think the 14-year-old needs to cut back on whatever drugs he's into if he can't remember what questions he's already asked.

Number of things in my Past I Regret: I only have one thing I truly regret with all my heart, and it's a doozy. But no way am I telling you clowns.

Hey, that's it! We made it to the end, and you only fell asleep twice. Next entry I'll detail some ways you can get even with me for the two hours of your life I just stole.