Dead Days of Summer

The inevitable day has arrived. The Sunday night before school starts after a long summer. This depressing reality has conjured up many unpleasant thoughts one of which having to deal with death. For example, what is the deal with burying people when they die? That must suck to die in a home or a hospital or wherever and have to be transported to some place and decompose in the ground for eternity. I utterly disagree with this practice. Fortunately for me, that will never happen when I eat it for good. I’m going to arrange that wherever I die I will be plopped right down on my leather couch with ESPN or a constant loop of Seinfeld on TV. Don’t worry, I realize my plan has flaws which is why there are preemptive measures. For instance, what if someone changes the channel to Lifetime or Oprah and I have to watch that for eternity? To counteract such a tragic scenario, the TV would shock anyone who touches it and meet the same fate as I have. (See I’ve got every angle covered). I don’t even care if another family buys my house and lives in it as long as I’m still on my couch. The family can tell guests that the old wrinkly dude on the couch just really loves TV and sleeps a lot. (Hey it worked on Weekend at Bearnies and Weekend at Bearnies 2) All I’m saying is how dare someone take me out of my house and throw me into the ground for life. Maybe that will happen to all the other dead suckers, NOT ME!

Quite The Predicament

I’m pretty sure my whole life is based on one practical joke after another. I always find myself in hilarious and awkward situations. A prime example is last week during the 5.4 magnitude earthquake. I was at work bored off my ass, doing work with my eyes half open in the usual office coma. I decided to go to the bathroom partially because nature was calling and partially because it gives me something to do. So I was doing my business and texting people at the same time (In the interest of full disclosure: If you ever receive a text from me at work…I’m probably sitting on the pot while writing it) and sure enough the earthquake hits. I’m sitting there and the stall doors start rumbling. My first reaction was, “damn I must really have had to use the bathroom” After realizing it was an earthquake I had no idea what to do. Over all those years of safety training in elementary school with the tuck under the desk drills, I was never taught what to do if you’re taking a dump. I defiantly could have used that drill. So I pretty much just sat there and waited the thing out. Imagine if that was the big one! Talk about a real “crappy” way to go out.