Wednesday, August 11, 2010

AAAAA! It's the Mosque of the Red Death















Here is a tidbit of information from my life that you might not know. For the past two years, I have lived half a block from a mosque. "What?" you say. "Do you spend all your time at home doing an inventory of your munitions closet? Are you stocked up on Kevlar vests? What happens if the Muslims come and you aren't ready?"

To which I respond, "What is wrong with you?"

Yes, there is a mosque on my street, and you might be surprised to know that NO ONE GIVES A SHIT. There aren't any neighborhood holy wars going on. We all go to the same grocery stores and laundromats. Women walk around wearing burqas, and I haven't once thought to myself, "Oh my god, lady terrorist at 10 o'clock, and here I am without my pistols." Because I know she is just running errands like I am. (The scariest thing that ever happens in my neighborhood is when the ice cream man parks in front of my building and I don't have any money.)

If there is an army of terrorists being trained at the Islamic center, it consists of four old guys who like to chat every night out front before they lock up and go home. If they are planning some kind of violent jihad, they are reeeeally procrastinating.

After two years of living near this mosque, I might also venture to say that I don't think that God is all that worried either (if you subscribe to the belief thing). I'm talking about the god that Christians believe in and credit with Jesus and such. The same god who some Christians insist would oppose the building of mosques. I have yet to see him smite the mosque in my neighborhood or the people who go there, despite the fact that it is less than a block away from a Baptist church, where every Sunday, a lot of non-Muslim people rattle the windows with their love for Jesus. And that is across the street from a Methodist church where the service is delivered in Spanish. (For the record, God hasn't smote any of those people for not speaking English.) There seems to be no Christian to Islam religion transference or vice versa, despite the close proximity.

People go into the Islamic center. People come out. God is like, "Ho hum. No smiting for me today."

My point is that there are dicks of every single religion on the planet. There are Methodist dicks, Lutheran dicks, and Catholic dicks; Jewish dicks, Atheist dicks, and Wiccan dicks, There are probably even some Quaker dicks. And, yes, there are Muslim dicks and a small percentage of them are terrorists. But it does not make all of them terrorists. I repeat: That does not make all of them terrorists. So, for those people in Wisconsin, California, and Tennessee (and anywhere else with a Muslim population) where someone wants to build a mosque and you feel you just gotta protest, go get yourself a falafel and a hookah and relax. Life is beautiful in my neighborhood. There is no reason it shouldn't be in yours as well.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Saturday Grab Bag: Shark Week!

You've seen Cats Dressed as Sharks for Shark Week, but have you seen a shark dressed as a cat? Awwwwww....I just want to pinch his little gills.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Goldilocks and the Low Blood Sugar Crisis: Part 2















***Hungry grizzly preparing to eat Grizzly Adams, who was not hungry at the time.

Well, yesterday we learned that laughing at starving people is not nice. And we learned that if you skip meals in anticipation of something that could potentially be a month away, you will likely die. We also learned about the pre-hibernation habits of bears. One thing we didn't learn, however, is just how far a starving Antarctican person would have to travel to find a KFC. So I did some fast Googling, and I think that currently their best chance of having a delicious chicken dinner is this one. So, if you see or speak to any Antarcticans on the search for food, kindly direct them to Sydney, Australia. And recommend that in the future they just try harpooning something.

All of that aside, I know you came here to read the rest of the thrilling tale of anthropomorphic bears, girls with low blood sugar, and terrible parenting. And so I will continue with that with no further ado.


Goldilocks and the Low Blood Sugar Crisis: The Conclusion

Goldilocks smelled chicken. And as everyone knows, if you are suffering from low blood sugar and smell chicken, no one had better stand between you and that chicken. As many unfortunate people have learned, acting as a barricade between a hungry person and his nosh may result in accidental cannibalism.

As you will likely remember, the tantalizing chicken fragrance was coming from a cabin owned by a family of anthropomorphic grizzly bears who were preparing for their winter hibernation. Specifically, it was coming from a half-eaten bucket of chicken sitting in the lap of a 500 pound grizzly. This information might deter most people, but not Goldilocks. She stormed right into that cabin, tore the bucket of chicken from the bear's lap, and ate it in three bites. And then she ate the grizzly. And his armchair. And because I'm feeling charitable and just had a delicious lunch that cured my low blood sugar, the mother grizzly and cub escaped unharmed.

The moral of this story is that 1) You should always have a snack handy 2) Don't stand between a hungry person and her food 3) Don't be an anthropomorphic bear in a story that I am writing because I will discard that whole porridge thing and leave you dead, bloody, and in the stomach of a hungry tween and 4) Always cook your meat before you eat it, or you may get a tapeworm like Goldilocks did.

THE END

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Goldilocks and the Low Blood Sugar Crisis


















Well...it has been a month since my last post. And while I am positive that if any of you were missing meals waiting for me to post something, you are most assuredly dead by now and not reading this. And while this advice will go unread by those who did starve to death, I'm going to say it anyway. You really should have known better.

That said, starvation is no laughing matter. I feel strange even smirking at the idea of starvation. And if you are currently giggling over the demise of those who died waiting for me to write this, you should be ashamed of yourself. Think of all those starving people in Antarctica right now, waiting around the ice floe for that apple tree that will never take root or those $5.99 chicken dinners that will never be delivered because there is no KFC within several hundred miles. Next time you find yourself chuckling over the idea of hunger, I hope you will think of those people and frown accordingly.

And now, those of you who did not starve to death while waiting for this blog post can read this thrilling tale of how if you don't eat something when your blood sugar is low, you will definitely die.


Goldilocks and the Low Blood Sugar Crisis

Before bears go into hibernation for the winter, they eat a lot of extra food. That way, while they are sleeping the cold winter months away, they can survive on their extra body fat. In fact, if you spy through the window of a cabin that belongs to an inexplicably anthropomorphized grizzly during the fall months, you will likely see him sitting in his armchair with his paw in a bucket of chicken. You might even see his charming grizzly wife slaving over a hot stove and grumbling about the lazy, fat son of a bitch she common law married and how he never helps out in the kitchen, just sits in his armchair all day with his paw in a bucket of chicken. Furthermore, you may see the grizzly family's adorable cub playing on the rug next to his father's chair wishing he had opposable thumbs so he could play with Legos.

But before you go spying in any grizzly cabin windows, I would like to remind you that 1) Grizzlies are dangerous animals and 2) It is rude to spy in windows. So if you see a cabin owned by some inexplicably anthropomorphized grizzly bears, it would be best to tiptoe on by and just assume that they are in there preparing for hibernation by eating lots of things.

Unless you are rude and unafraid of grizzlies. Or suffer from low blood sugar. Like Goldilocks.

Personally, I think the name Goldilocks is stupid. But when compared to the names of her siblings, Brownhead, Baldie, and Combover, I suppose it might be the preferable name given to the Hairhead children.

Goldilocks was wandering around alone in the woods one day because, in addition to giving their children terrible names, her parents were always telling her to go outside and have an adventure, secretly hoping that she would be eaten by bears because they regretted allowing themselves to be coerced into reproducing by their meddling parents and religious leader.

And so Goldilocks was skipping through the woods alone, when she suddenly realized that her blood sugar was low. Now, most people who frequently suffer from low blood sugar would be smart enough to keep a snack handy. But not Goldilocks. Because as every girl Goldilocks's age knows, if boys catch you eating food, they will think you are a fat cow person made of snacks. And so, Goldilocks dizzily skipped on wishing for a few crackers or an apple so she wouldn't pass out. And that was when she passed a cabin owned by inexplicably anthropomorphized bears and smelled chicken in the air.

To be continued....