Monday, August 11, 2008
It's time to kick some zombie ass
If you’re drunk, and you have to pee, how close to the bathroom should you be before you take off your pants and urinate?
The way bars sometimes are, what with drunken lollygaggers standing about, and music playing too loud to lugubriously communicate, dropping your pants before you get to the bathroom seems like a perfectly natural and clear signal to the other patrons that it’s in their best interest to get out of your way.
The one thing I would recommend you never do is take children to a bar; those little bastards can’t hold their liquor and they rarely make it to the toilet when it’s puking time. Plus, adults are smart enough to keep their opinions to themselves so they rarely complain about the foul tasting poison, aka “girl” rum, that marketing companies have convinced the general public make for tasty beverages, but children, especially the eight and under crowd, mewl and wine the second you and a buddy hold one down and start funneling grain alcohol down their throat.
Don’t ask me what it is about bars that people love so much; if it’s the liquor, I can get drunk faster and cheaper by drinking mouthwash in my hall closet, or, as I like to call it, the Wednesday morning ritual. If it’s the socializing, then why not join some kind of club or have a good, old fashioned gang bang.
I imagine it has something to do with the crowds; for whatever reason, people like crowds.
It’s true, and you can test this theory. Call up a few friends and stand around in a closed circle, eventually, more people will pile in behind you and ask you at what you’re staring. Soon, there’ll be a mob so thick that the people in the back won’t even be able to see you, but they’ll stand with the crowd anyway just because they don’t know what else to do. The police will break it up, especially if you’re doing this in a mall or some similar public-private place, and everyone there will wonder why our eventual alien overlords will treat us the way we treat cows, sheep, and the several diverse kinds of edible monkey.
People love crowds.
Everybody knows the best time to go to the beach is not in the height of summer, when everybody and their mother takes their flabby selves out to where dirt meets water, but in the middle of winter; just like you don’t jump in a gang bang when everybody’s still fresh and squirming around, you wait until everyone has had their turn before you get in there and do your business.
Sure, it’s a little soggy, but it’s still good.
I can’t stand crowds or crowded places. Other people not only increase the temperature of any crowded area into which they pack themselves, but there’s a good chance that, if so many people are interested in doing an activity, it’s probably a pretty stupid thing to do; for example, people who stand online outside a retailer to buy a new movie, book, piece of software, video game console, etc. when they could get it hassle free, and usually for a lower price, a few weeks later.
I understand that everyone is anxious to be first, and no one likes to wait, but there are plenty of other things to do in the meantime.
What about swindling the elderly? Instead of wasting your time in a line to get the next Xbox, why not scam old folks out of their retirement money? Or why not ruin weddings? Just go around from church to church and spoil people’s special days by insinuating that you slept with the bride or groom or both.
I understand that not everyone can be an individual, and that being an individual is not the same thing as being useful, but you’d think that for a species that prides itself on freedom of choice, rational thinking, and individuality, we’d be able to think of something to do where we don’t have to stand shoulder to shoulder and front to back with the world’s sweatiest, stinkiest, fattest, and pointiest families just to ride a roller coaster, see a movie, or have a fucking drink.
We’re social animals, I get it. Apart from watching people fuck, most of the time wasted on the internet is spent communicating with other hairless apes around the globe. We need human contact to keep us from going completely bat-shit crazy and doing something stupid like shaving our elbows or believing Fox News; however, there comes a point when we have to look at a throbbing herd of people and say “Enough is enough.”
They use electric shock prods to get cows into high density feed lots, but people are willing to pay out the ass to stand in a seven hour line for the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney World.
The older I get, the less comfortable I feel around all the rest of you. It seems ridiculous to walk around in these clothes, or trade metal and paper with one another in exchange for food, drugs, and sexual favors. There has to be a better way to spend our time than standing in a room full of strangers, drinking ethyl alcohol, playing darts, and listening to the same three songs over and over and over again.
The least they could do is let people pee everywhere. Just put a drain in the middle of the bar and slant the floor downwards. I’d feel much better about paying six dollars a bottle for a Corona if I knew that everyone was standing in a puddle of my urine.
Sex Mahoney for President
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by Lemon Demon
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