For those of you (mom) who have been wondering, a combination of personal, professional, and basketballonal demands have desiccated my creative juices of late, hence Write in the Kisser’s less than impressive update rate over the last few weeks. Nonetheless, I know I must persevere, if not for my own sake, than for the sake of the small turtles living above my cable modem whose terrarium is wired with C4 that is programmed to explode should my weg drop below 60 miles per hour or should an entire week pass without an update (whichever happens second).
As such, rather than spending an inordinate amount of time attempting to pen yet another luminously witty and thought-provoking essay with a single unifying theme or conceit, I have decided to publish a tiny handful of the miscellaneous and extraneous one-liners, observations, and non sequiturs that have accumulated in my various notebooks over the years. Sounds fun, right?! Well too bad, ‘cause I’m doin’ it anyway.
- “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” – First of all, who the hell came up with this expression? I’m assuming it wasn’t the Trojans, even though they did espouse a somewhat similar maxim, roughly translated as, “FOR THE LOVE OF ZEUS, LOOK THE FRIGGIN’ GIFT HORSE IN THE MOUTH AND MAKE SURE THERE AREN’T ANY SOLDIERS INSIDE WAITING TO JUMP OUT AND KICK YOUR ASS!!!” Second of all, if someone gives you a horse, where else are you supposed to look at it—the ass? (You are what you see, right?) Plus, where are you more likely to get a horseshoe to the head: in front of a horse, or behind it? This is just bad advice on so many levels.
- Wise words I just wrote: It’s not my head that’s too big; it’s my hat that’s too small.
- “Unisex” – Isn’t “uni” a prefix meaning “one,” or “single”?1 So how the bloody blazes did such an affix come to describe clothing that, according to Webster’s, is “suitable or designed for both males and females”? Maybe I’m missing something here, but shouldn’t “unisex” refer to clothes designed for, oh, I don’t know, a single sex? I blame the goddamn hippies for this one.
- Would you call a flamboyant cow a Dairy Queen?
- One time at Costco last year, I saw an elderly Asian man pushing around a large shopping cart filled with the following items: two gallons of milk, one watermelon, and a package of Flexees® ladies undergarments. Suffice it to say, I wanna party with this guy.
- I think a great idea for a toy would be a cactus football. It would really toughen up the younger generation, which is already well on its way to becoming the fattest, softest, and unhealthiest in history. Yesiree, a couple of hours tossin’ the ol’ pointy pigskin around with dad in the backyard and those kids will feel like a new man.2
- I have a theory that food never goes bad or stale; I just think it becomes different food. After all, our diets are filled with antipodes. We eat hot things and cold things, crispy things and soggy things, chunky things and smooth things. That’s why when potato chips that started out firm and crunchy become soft and chewy over time, I just pretend that’s how they’re supposed to taste and eat ‘em anyway. (Thinking of them as salty gummy worms helps…salty gummy worms that that have been run over by a car.) Look, let’s say you have to leave the dinner table for a few minutes and, upon your return, discover that your soup has cooled down and your potato salad warmed up. Normally you would disdain this development and work to reverse their respective temperature anomalies, but I say, why not eat ‘em both then and there and call it even? The fact is, we all need to do our part to fight the imminent global food shortage ahead, and my philosophy will clearly save an immeasurable quantity of perfectly edible—well, eatable—which is to say, you can, technically, eat it—you know, physically put it into your mouth and use your incisors and bicuspids to…wait, where was I going with this? Oh, right, barf bags. As I was saying, you should definitely buy stock in barf bags (not beef stock though; that might be a conflict of interest).
- I think a tattoo parlor where a woman could show her boobs as a form of payment if she didn’t have any money would be a big success. You could call it “Tits for Tats.” Now get yourself a catchy slogan and you’re good to go!3
1. Yes, yes it is.
2. Don’t ask me how multiple kids are supposed to feel like a single man. You know my similes need work. Jerk.
3. How about, “Where a flash is as good as cash!” That’s memorable, right? Or maybe, “How low will you sink for some permanent ink?” A little cynical, sure, but people embrace that sort of honesty these days.