Here is my new rule for the 2011 year: Any day you can wake up and reach the head of your bed and grab a Costco sized bottle of ibuprofen pop three of those in your mouth than reach up and grab the Costco size of pepto you had sitting right next to that Costco sized bottle of pain killers and wash down those three painkillers with a big deliciously pink gulp of bismuth subsalicylate is a day started with a victory. Or at least a day where you can wake up with the satisfaction that last night totally kicked ass. And if it, didn’t chances are if you are taking these medical measures because you don’t remember last night so you can easily go through the mental exercise to convince yourself that you had an amazing night, a real night for the record books, I don’t know if anyone keeps a record books for nights, but if they did I feel like some of my nights would be in there. Anywho this is why I love the month of January, because it always begins like this for me. There is no other month in existence that I can guarantee I will welcome first belligerently belligerent and then greet the morning hangoverly hunged over. Aw January you bitter sweet bitch. I welcome you with open arms each and every year!
And every good rule deserves an equally unrelated puzzling question, at least in my opinion it does. Why are people so disgusted by trimmed finger nails? Seriously try this: rub your finger nails (whilst connected to your finger) on some ones arm, most people won’t mind and in some cultures this is seen as sign of affection. Now! Here is the fun part! Detach those same fingernails using a finger nail clippers, your own teeth, or if you are lucky enough to have them sitting about some tiger’s teeth. God clipping your fingernails with tiger teeth is the highest form of luxury, and can only be topped my filing those tiger teeth clipped nails with an elephant tusk file. Anyways that’s beside the point, back to the point! Take those newly detached fingernails and rub that same person in the same manner in the same place, effectively changing nothing except the connectedness of those fingernails. Instantaneous disgust will emanate from your test subject! But why!?! Why!?! Nobody knows. It just a fact of life like JT brought sexy back, bears are hilarious, and bacon is delicious.
A few more notes for 2011: 1. I think I have not made mention of this, I am moving sites from Kanwekan to Zwedru for various reasons. Its not important but I figured I would let you know.
2. I am on my way to Senegal right now for various reasons. Again not important but I like to brag.
3. I was talking to my Peace Corps driver this morning and I was observing the large amounts of people walkin on this fine Sunday morning. I asked why so many people were out, as usually Sundays are a day of rest and that is taken quite seriously in this country. Anyhwo he went on to explain that first Sunday is the only Sunday where churches hand out communion. Which led me to my next question, Why? Which, as you can imagine, led him to his next answer. Communion is too expensive! That’s right, to buy those little cardboard cutout host things is too expensive! How crazy is that! And yet in America people be drinking shit outta gold cups and wearing thousand dolla garments in the name o’ the lord. O religion (Christianity in particular, but none are exempt) you up little system you, you’re always good for a laugh. But cheers to Vatican City for gold plating walls and holding priceless pieces of art in their churches because the pope kicks it there. I am sure god really wants you drinking out of golden cups and staring at shiny walls as opposed to the rest of his followers actually getting to receive an important religious right. By the way I am not claiming to be a saint, I am far from it, I am a greedy self-serving ass hole (or in less words an American!), but at least I don’t pretend I am not. Did I ever mention this blog was to mostly read with a sarcastic overtone? OK, good. As a quick side not, I think churches would be way better off if instead of handing out those disgusting little unleavened wafers for communion they switched it over to handing out dunk-a-roos! God I love dunk a roos, and it’s an easy name switch. You could call it dunk-a-rooian! Now that’s something to go to church for.
Another important side note, I did not use the F-bomb once in this whole blog, now that’s a first, but don’t expect that trend to keep up.
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