I know thousands of things. None of them are useful.
My brain never seems to remember the things it should, like where the hell I put my car keys last night or what my English assignment was; while I'm shredding my couch apart looking for my keys and my English notebook, my brain is cheerfully telling me what the servicemen in the Gulf used condoms for. (To cover the barrels of their guns so sand wouldn't get in them. It's also a good excuse in case your parents find your hidden supply of condoms, assuming you are in possession of large-bore shotguns and hunt seagulls for a living.)
So think of this column as a garage sale - I'm trying to get rid of all the useless stuff in my head so maybe I can learn something useful. What the hell, I'm in kind of a "Hints From Heloise" mood anyway.
How To Get Beat Up By Policemen:
Find a bunch of policemen who are already beating up a criminal. Point a videocamera at them and yell, "HEY! PIGS!" Then look at the camera sheepishly, and mutter, "Whoops! I forgot to put film in this thing...." Look at them grin. Look at them drop the criminal and start walking towards you.
How To Get Mugged:
Unfortunately, this is impossible; all the muggers, drug dealers, purse-snatchers, share-croppers, etc. have been beaten up already by overzealous policemen. If you have been mugged or robbed recently, you have been assaulted by undercover policemen who couldn't find any criminals to beat up.
How To Be A Very Famous Rock Star:
First, be a singer. Write a few hit songs. Then take so many drugs that you start swaying during concerts and mumbling incoherently; mindless fans will take this to mean you are "deep." Just as your popularity starts to diminish, overdose on drugs in an out-of-the-way place so particularly rabid fans can insist you're still alive. Years later, Oliver Stone will make a movie about you.
(IMPORTANT NOTE! Be SURE to overdose immediately after your popularity starts to fade. If Prince had had the good sense to kill himself right after "Raspberry Beret," he'd still be considered a genius today.)
How To Be a Very Famous Rock Star If You're Not A Singer:
Encourage the drummer to start drinking heavily. (For prime examples, see Led Zeppelin, The Who, etc.)
How To Be Environmentally Concerned:
Go to a large conglomerate bookstore and buy lots of Environmentally E-Z Concerned books, like "50 Ways to Save The Earth, 49 Of Which You'll Forget" and "The Official Save The Amoeba Handbook". Go home. Live your life as usual. If you feel guilty, buy more books.
How To Make An Ex-Girlfriend Very Nervous:
Walk up to her and act defensive. Say, "No matter what anybody else says to you, I swear the tests were negative." Run.
How To Make A Recent Ex-Boyfriend Very Very Nervous:
Walk up to him and say, "I haven't had my you-know-what in two months now, but I think it's just because of the stress I've been undergoing since we broke up." Smile and flounce away. Quickly.
How To Factory-Test a Cat:
Throw it off a building and see if it lands on all fours. Place it on a high powerline to check its sense of balance. Leave bag out to check curiosity; if cat crawls into bag, hang bag on rotating ceiling fan to test Cat behaviour under high-G circumstances. If cat fails one or all of these tests, you'll probably need to get a new cat.
(Cat-haters may wish to do more strenuous testing. Keep going back to the pound until you find a satisfactory cat, or until they run out of cats, whichever comes first.)
How To Think Like A College Freshman:
Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Beer.
How To Survive a Family Get-Together:
Seeing as all relatives ask the same questions anyway, it's easier to fill out a placard beforehand and hang it around your neck. Things to comment on include your grades or your career, your marital status, and your car. For example, the card I used at my recent family Easter gathering read: "I know I've grown. Yes, I'm fine. My grades are fine. My work is fine. My writing is fine. My car is fine. And I am still seeing Cathy." Anytime it looked like I was going to be engaged in meaningless small talk, I shoved the card right up in their face. Worked like a charm.
How To Make Scads Of Money Writing For Your Own Website:
Beats the hell out of me, Jack.
This has been an article on Tirades. If you enjoy Tirades, perhaps these other articles on Tirades might be of interest?
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| One of the first (actually, the second) columns I ever wrote, this one is included because I still think it's funny, albeit dated. The first I ever wrote was a little piece entitled "Religiously Handicapped" ? about how I had no idea when to stand up or sit down in church ? and I found out much later it annoyed my Catholic mom to no end. Alas, this piece is gone, lost to the four winds. | |
 A funny comic about sex, blogging, and love, written by the guy who wrote all the essays on this site! Why not click the link and check it out? | |
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| Written As A Young Writer | |
| "Bulletproof In Three Easy Lessons"
As a result I developed my own method of stopping, which consisted of dragging my face in the snow until friction stopped me. Head-shaped furrows abounded on the killing surface of the deadly Bunny Slope |
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| "Adventures In Biology"
We learned the semi-annual "dead frog puppet show" is an age-old honored tradition at Norwalk High. We personally had this amazing frog showgirl rendition of Michael Sembello's "She's A Maniac" that had Flashdance beat all to hell, but our teacher, never a patron of the arts, threw our star performer away. |
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Tattoos, Piercings, And Beans Up Your Nose Genital piercings are a great reason to get women to look at your dick. After all, you can't talk about your penis unless it's a fourteen-incher - and if you do, what the hell are you doing here reading this? Go out and fuck something, for Christ's sake. | |
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The Next Generation Of Swear Words I'm genuinely curious to see what sort of suggestions my normally-depraved readership sends in. Shit is worn out, fuck is played... Is "Rapist" the curse of the future? | |
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Darth Maul's Lightsaber I twirled my toy lightsaber and whacked the ceiling by mistake. I fought with my uncle, who leaned on his cane... And with one leg and one blade, he beat the living crap out of me. So I asked myself: How could Darth Maul have been such a badass with this awkward thing? What kind of weapon was this? | |