Taking the GED

I am currently worried about…getting old. Naw, I don’t really care about my metabolism slowing, receding hairline, or even the “less fish in the sea” theory. It’s the fact my body is beginning to crack in different places—places I didn’t know could crack. It’s as though my body is in the middle of some kind of skeletal puberty. The worst part is that the cracks happen in inconvenient areas at equally inconvenient times.

I’ve now reached the point where whenever I slouch, my coccyx cracks. No, it doesn’t hurt—not at all. But the hell if the crack doesn’t sound like something foamy and flatulent. Especially when the crack echoes against the varnished mahogany of my family’s antique chair at the dinner table.

It would be one thing if my middle finger cracked and it sounded like a moist fart (ooo, how did the word “moist” sound in your heads, ladies?). Or if my sternum cracked in the middle of the season premiere of LOST and it sounded like I lost control of a sphincter. All of those cracks could logically be defended.

But the human coccyx—located just above the human anus—acoustically leads your friends' specially trained ears to believe, “Ah ha! That’s a fart! I know because it sounded like a fart and it came from an area around his butt where all farts come from! Taye Povs farted! Hahaha. He always farts. Hey, brain! Think of a fart joke!”

How is this going to play out on a date with a dreamy blonde chick who’s dumb and loves country music? I don’t know. I don’t want to.

I hope I have the opportunity to be…this busted someday (Natalie Portman).

Finally…an entertaining Subway vs. Quizno’s argument (take notes, Mitch). On a glum note, the Quizno’s in White Bear Lake on Hwy 61 has closed. Undoubtedly, this is due to the discontinuation of the Honey Bacon Club within recent months. Mmmm…toasty.

                     

Close only counts…in horseshoes…and camel toes (Luisana Lopilato).

So it turns out…that Jared “The Subway Guy” Fogle is Jewish. I don’t recall WrongWay being kosher. Or tasty for that matter.

Most people fear…death, public speech, girls, masking tape, Ziggy Cartoons etc. I can top all of that nonsense, and I know it’ll have you shaking in your hooves. Ever copy and pasted somebody the wrong link in an IM conversation? That’s some scary stuff. You may have been lucky this time, and pasted the phrase “Ed Werder” into your conversation window when you intended it to be the cool new website, “www.youtube.com.” But, don’t let your guard down just yet. And definitely, don’t count on Ed Werder to be at your side with every stroke of the Control-V combination. What if you do forget to hit Control-C on your preferred selection?

Put yourself in those shoes. What was the last thing you copied to the clipboard?
Scenario: 

1) The previously copied information was probably personal—with your track record, it was likely a link to a website with free video previews of money shots and trains being run on a midget. 

2) Your forgetfulness then makes a fool of your once-unblemished copy-and-paste expertise: you fail to copy the appropriate, G-rated link that you had intended to send.

Buckle up, kiddo.

3) Now, back at your deadly conversation window, you unknowingly pasted the link in the text field, unconsciously pressed return, and submitted the explosively offensive website as your followup to "hey, check this out man."

It’s all over. It’s out in the open now, Buffalo Bill. This isn’t a voice mail message where you can press “1” for more options. You are a freak. 

It's what reputation is built on, folks: the copy-and-paste function.

You would be correct if...you guessed by now that I mistakenly messaged somebody an incorrect link from my clipboard today. I’m embarrassed to report that I sent my kind associate, Bru, a very detailed report of the 2000 census in India. Some people are perverted—I just make them look silly.

Tell the Big Ten to cut it out. Now!

Good luck! Have a good night!