A tiny matter

AAAAHHHH!!!!  MIDGET!!!!  Ever heard this?  Well then, you may indeed be a “little person”, or “freak show”, as that’s the politically correct way of describing these tiny, silly bastards.

Now listen, before you start to get all angry about pointing out other people’s hilarious flaws, let’s consider something.  If we weren’t meant to laugh at them, then why did God make them so funny looking?  Hmmm…Got ya there huh?  Let’s press on then with a quick history lesson.

Midgets were first discovered in the early 1600’s during a South American jungle expedition.  At that time, the world was an exciting place.  Explorers traced the globe in search of fame and fortune and battles raged to see which nation would gain the largest international foothold. 

The British, with their superior fleets, ventured farthest and during the summer of 1614 landed on the eastern shores of South America.  Leading this expedition was famed captain, Cornelius Midgeton, renowned the world over for his daring bravery.  He brought with him 20 of England’s strongest men, eager to tackle the dangers of the forest that awaited them.

As they made their way slowly through the dense underbrush and sweltering heat, they soon came upon a village unlike any they had seen before.  Tiny huts lined the outskirts of the encampment and inside were dozens of children scurrying about.  When the band of explorers ventured closer, they noticed something odd – they weren’t children at all but small abominations of man.

What happened next is debated.  Some say that half of the English group fled in horror, others that men gouged their eyes out and ran screaming into the ocean to drown themselves.  Regardless of the conjecture, Cornelius Midgeton was not deterred.  For he managed to capture at least one man freak and one woman freak in a net and dragged them back to the awaiting ship.

This my friends, is where midgets came from.  And my have they flourished in our society! Known for their giant heads and even bigger hearts, these pint-sized playthings have won the world over and contributed in more ways than you would think.

Ever heard of the iPod mini? A midget was there.  Mini-golf?  Yes sir, essentially that’s just golf for them.  Everything from White Castle hamburgers to Mini Coopers — you can thank a midget for all of them.

Now, in current society, midgets are still proliferating to this day.  Science has not been as quick to adapt and we’re still learning more after each autopsy.  For one thing, we now know that midgets can make great seeing-eye assistants for the blind, allowing for dogs to remain as pets as they should be.  Midget tears are now used to make an extra potent paint remover. Found a dead midget on the road? Well that’s 7 years good luck my friend.  And the list goes on.

So the next time you’re at your local midget tossing competition, consider the history of the midget.  That furry freak flying through the air that is giving you so much enjoyment, also has a rich culture.  Go over to him after they delouse him (as is customary after said competitions) and say a few words. 

But don’t get to close, they bite.

For more information on how to purchase and care for your own midget, please visit your local midget representative or simply call Allison Russo.

Have a great weekend!

SC

~*~

No news is good news?

Isn’t it funny what we read in the news?  We are consistently up to date on the latest television news, the status of Britney Spears, who called who what in the last debate, blah blah blah. 

Oh and PS - Russia has a new president (who didn’t even campaign), Iran has called for all foreigners to be expelled from Iraq, Israel pulled out of Gaza, the US fired missiles in Somalia, and umm, what else…oh right, there looks like there is going to be a war between Colombia and Venezuela/Equador. 

But what’s the latest on American Idol?

All of those things mentioned above, happened TODAY.  Yet, the main story right now is a higher than expected opening of the stock exchange.  What the hell?

For those of you coming in this morning and immediately checking “The Superficial” for your news, maybe also try clicking one of the following:

Russia has a new president

War in Colombia

US fires missiles in Somalia

Israel pulls out of Gaza

Iran: Foreigners must leave Iraq

Seriously, what the hell.

Notre Dame vs. Louisville

As most of you know, there is a HUGE basketball game tonight.  The Irish (21-5) are playing Louisville (22-6) tonight away.  It’s on at 7 PM EST on ESPN.

I can’t write anymore or I’ll jinx it.

Go Irish!

Cheer, cheer for Old Notre Dame
Wake up the echoes cheering her name,
Send the volley cheer on high,
Shake down the thunder from the sky,
What though the odds be great or small
Old Notre Dame will win over all,
While her loyal sons are marching
Onward to Victory.

Thought of the morning…

Girls smell better than guys.

True story.  I make it a point to smell as many women as possible. 

Enjoy your day.

Constant Affirmation

“You’re soooo cute. Oh my god, I love it.  Lovvvviinnnggg it!  Where did you get it? How much?  SHUT UP!  Very pretty.  Look at how cute YOU are!” 

Sound familiar? 

Constant affirmation.  Women receive it every day, from every other woman and man on the planet. Regardless of looks, or what they’re wearing, there is some form of flattery that happens each day which, in turn, boosts self-confidence.  Now this is just a theory of mine, but if history serves as any guide, I’m correct.  Ladies, read on at your own peril.  You may find out something you already knew, yet didn’t want to admit. 

So here’s the deal.  A woman, any woman, wakes up, gets dressed and goes outside for work.  Now at some point during the day, she will be hit on.  Either verbally (shouting as she walks past…not the best approach guys), non-verbally (staring longingly, also not a good approach fellas) or physically (subway/train/bus groping…don’t even need to say it.  This is the best approach.) Joking.  But seriously, it works.   

Anyway, does this mean the woman is a supermodel?  No.  She doesn’t even need to be remotely attractive!  Some guy, some sick bastard, is hardwired to comment on their looks.  He doesn’t even want to.  He just does.  The next time you’re on the street, take notice.  It’s kind of like the old poker adage, if you can’t spot the sucker in the first 5 minutes, you’re him.  This is the same thing.  If you can’t spot the guy in the first 5 blocks, you’re him. 

We do it unconsciously and guys, it’s not really our fault.  By nature, most of us are idiots.  The others are discerning pricks.  Still more, are the nice guys.  There are other advantages of being the nice guy.  Think about it.  If you hold a door for a woman to go in first, we’re really just being safe.  What if a violent puma was waiting on the other side?  We would’ve been skinned alive that’s what.  If you pull a chair out for a woman, we’re really just testing security to see if the management will notice us removing anything when we’re looking to lift the silverware.  If you open a car door, you’re really just making sure there isn’t a homicidal maniac sitting in the back seat with an axe.  These are all good things. 

But it all comes back to the mindset of the woman after the incident. It’s come to be “expected”.  Sure, I may slam a few doors in women’s faces.  Sure I may step in front of them and give them a subtle elbow to the ribcage to say, “I’m walkin’ here”.  Does that make me less of a gentleman? 

With the constant affirmation of beauty and importance, we don’t stand a chance guys. We need to take a stand!  We need to “Just say no!”.  We need to …well, we need to get laid.  Nevermind about all this stuff.  Keep on keeping on.
 

Sigh.

SC 

~*~ 

Finding home…

It’s winter time.  It’s cold out there but ya know where you can always find warmth?  That’s right.  The homeless.Have you ever hugged a homeless person?  No? For shame.  They’re actually very huggable.  The University of Rhode Island National Examiners (U.R.I.N.E.) conducted a study in late 2007 that said the homeless were actually among the MOST huggable creatures. 

So why are people not taking advantage of these various hot spots on their way to work?  I decided to find out. This morning on my way to work, I resigned myself to approach one homeless man or woman and “get my hobo mack on”.  Join me won’t you?

There was a chill in the air and I was glad to duck inside the smelly sanctuary of the 86th St. subway station.  The odor of warm milk and feet wafted over me like a warm blanket and I knew this was the morning I’d find love.  Or would love find me?

Shoes sticking to the floor, I pressed on, down the stairs and past the newspaper hawkers into the fray of commuters.  It wasn’t until I had almost reached the platform that I saw her.  At first I only saw the top of her head as she was ever so gingerly leaned over a trash can, sifting through items.  I do love a thrifty shopper.  She discarded the unwanted trash and consolidated the coffee into one cup.  Environmentally friendly also? This was too good to be true.

As she turned, her tooth sparkling in the fluorescent subway lights, I caught a look in her good eye that said, “Yes Sean, yes.” I advanced and she retreated. She advanced and I retreated.  And so we danced.  The age-old game of cat and mouse, fifty feet under the streets of NYC and without a care in the world.

We finally approached.  I bumbled my words and said something coy like, “That’s a lovely newspaper you’re wearing.” Caught off guard, she faintly whispered back, “Change?” Oh yes woman of the subway, I can indeed make a change.  A change for the better.  To throw off the shackles of society and live free as you do.  To laugh heartily at unseen things.  To speak to unseen people.  To live.  To really live.

Unfortunately, it was not to be.  My subway came and I was forced to flee.  My own fears and insecurities got the better of me today, yet I wonder what would have been? Could we have been happy?  Me with my shoes, her without.  Me with my iPod, her with her shopping cart.  Such polar opposites…such destined lovers.

And so, when I walk the subway platforms of NYC, I will yearn for her and that brief time we spent together that fateful February morning.  That one morning when I truly had something special.

I leave it to you.  This winter, when the wind whips at your face and you’re looking for a spot to get warm, take a look around.  You may find exactly what you’re looking for.

Disclaimer:  Please note the above was entirely fictional.  The homeless are gross and should not be approached for any reason.

SC

~*~

Train Travel: Race against time

“I heard God sneeze the other day and I had no idea what to say to him.”

Just heard that quote this morning and thought it was freakin hilarious.  Who is good enough to actually “create” jokes? Have you ever tried?  Sometimes you think of something that is rather funny. You chuckle and you repeat it to yourself thinking, “Yeah, this could be funny.” Then you try it out on someone else and you end up repeating the joke and then explaining why it’s funny only to be met with some sort of response that says, “Ohhhh…yeah I get it.” It’s kind of like a 3-year-old who draws a picture of a turkey and it looks like something that was a result of a guy holding a crayon during a seizure.  But you’re compelled to say, “Ohhhh…yeah I see it”.

Anyway, I’m coming back to NYC from Philly this afternoon.  Amtrak is always an adventure.  You get this nervous rush as you arrive at the train station.  All of a sudden, you’re hyper-sensitive to everything around you.  You glance up at the board listing the departures.  5:10.  That’s your train.  As you nonchalantly stroll across the open expanse of the station, your eyes dart from left to right.  You are aware of each nuance.  What track will they call it on?  People are lined up at Tracks 4 and 5, so you can rule them out.  It came on Track 7 last time, does that mean anything? Do I have time to grab a coffee beforehand?

As your heart slowly adapts to the pressure, you then begin to look at the people milling around.  What train are they taking?  Do they know something I don’t?  You size people up.  Okay, I know I can beat the woman with the stroller and that guy over there looks as if he has about 10 minutes left to live anyway.  If he dies, will the train be delayed?  No, put that out of your mind.  Focus on the guy in the suit with the phone.  Who wears a suit on a Sunday? Is he some sort of government agent tracking you?  Either way, he means business and if you aren’t careful, he’ll get in front of you in line. 

Look at the time.  4:59. Damnit, how long in advance do they need to board the train?  Who controls that call?  Do you need special schooling to know the exact moment to let people go down to the platform, only to wait another 10 minutes in the cold once they finally do call you?  I should really write my Congressman about this.  Wait, who is my Congressman?  And do people still write letters?

Snap out of it.  Need to focus here.  The coffee looks good.  Maybe just a quick dash over.  How long could that take, 2 minutes?  No, the person at the register is casually picking their nose.  Can’t imagine how long it’d take, even with exact change.  Wait, what was that clicking sound?  The board is changing!  First in line…first in line…first in… Damnit, the lady with the stroller beat me.

These are the pressures and perils of train travel. As I type this, I’m already becoming anxious.  I had better prepare.

Wish me luck.

SC

~*~

About Me

Check back later — still working this out.

How very existential, yes?