Thursday, May 12, 2005

The Apocalypse

The first sign of the Apocalypse is upon us. I saw the single most amazing thing I have ever seen today. While on the bus, a homeless man got on. He had no money to pay, but wouldn't get off. The driver put the bus in park and waited. Several minutes went by. Then a man from the center of the bus walked up and paid for his ticket. In and of itself, this is not so amazing. Maybe the guy was just fed up with waiting. But it was a step in the right direction. Then, a block later, an old lady got on. This same guy got up from his seat and offered it to the old lady. We had a winner. A kind Kalifornian. Now, there may be some room for leeway here, as this guy may have originally been from out of state, but I'm still blown away. I've never before seen that here. I've been here two years. I was shocked. I wanted to reward the guy somhow, for an effort that would be second nature in 49 other states.

I am keeping a lookout for horsemen.

Sports predictions: Purdue is going to the Rose Bowl and the Cubs will win the world series against the White Sox with a grand slam to the opposite field upper deck by their injured pitcher on a full count in the bottom of the ninth inning while down by 3 runs in game seven.

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

The Final Letter (Electronically)

So, one of my friends is having a difficult time right now. There's this girl who's enamored with him, and he doesn't want any part of it. So, how does he go about letting her down? You could adise him to take the Homer Simpson route: "Three simple words: I am gay." It seems to be dishonest, though, so I figured I'd help draft a letter for him, being honest. Not mean, just honest. I've been up for 20 something hours and been at this fucking lab for, well, OK, so I've been up 30 something hours and been at this fucking lab for 25ish now. The name has been omitted just because I felt like being nice. For once.

Dear XXXXXX,

Although I should probably be flattered that someone is attracted to me enough to be enamored, I unfortunately am not. Perhaps it is the fact that you're married, or that you're German, but I guess I could overcome these things if you were hot enough. But you're not. I don't mean to be cruel, so I won't be, but let me soften the blow a bit by saying that you look like a cross between a physically abused Gumby and the Pillsbury Dough boy with tits dressed up in a Rambo costume. If you want someone to love you, you might consider using deoderant, because your malodorous musk is much less alluring than the large donkey on my uncle's farm. Perhaps you should consider hitting on our Chinese postdoc. He's a really nice guy and he'd never notice your smell because he moonlights as an exterminator using only his breath as an insecticide.
I would also advise investing in a hearing aid, if only to note the incredible volume with which you speak. While you may have grown up on stage with AC/DC, here in America, we like to try and keep the volume so that those in the lab 4 doors down can't hear us over their radio that's shaking the floor. You might also invest in an English course. Of course, you studied English much more than I have studied German, as I haven't studied the language at all, but when you correct native English speakers on our grammar and pronunciation incorrectly, it is a bit irritating. As a matter of fact, you could save yourself the money by simply listening instead of deafening us constantly with your incredibly piercing banshee wail. If you listened, maybe you'd learn something about how we speak our language.
You incessant need to be right, all the time, even when you're wrong, and especially when your advice is unasked for or when you cut into a private conversation should really be curbed if you ever want to have an affair. I would also suggest not wearing anything that exemplifies the gargoyle-like grotesqueness of your body. A frumpy sweatsuit will do nicely.
By the way, if you want to pick someone up, I wouldn't talk about how hard you had to work in Germany and how much harder it was there. First, everyone knows that the Germans do everything the hard way and it's no surprise that you had a hard time there. Secondly, we don't really care. As a matter of fact, we don't really care about you, either. I can give you my uncle's number, though, because I hear his donkey is lonely.
Hope you die in a car fire,
--XXXX

PS - You should try listening to music sometime. That Reinhard Mae that you listen to is not music; it sounds like Mr. Rogers singing drunkenly to Sesame Street tunes in German and is less preferable to listen to than nails scratching glass.