As the title states, some animals are hideous.  They are just ugly.  We can only pray that these uglies lack the necessary junk to procreate.  Here are some pictures I stumbled upon of horrifically ugly animals:


   If this dog were mine… I would cry.  He’s the reason why I’d never breed my own dog.  He looks like he bathed in a vat of acid, wears a toupee, chews rocks, and then blinded himself somehow… maybe during the acid-vat dip.


  This donkey(?) looks like it lit itself on fire, stuck googly-eyes over its regular eyes, was hit in the mouth with a shovel, then forgot how to chew.  He is an ugly.


   At first, I thought this beast was a cat, but then I realized the photo was entitled “dog.”  It then hit me that it was just a ugly, drunk, mohawked, rockstar of a dog.

    I have no idea if this gecko is horrifically ugly or cute.  I’d say ugly because its disgusting qualities far outweigh its cute qualities.  Everything except the head it horrible.  The rule of thumb is that if you refuse to pick up the animal for fear of contracting a disease that will either instantly kill you or burn your hands off, then the animal is an ugly.


      I hate cats.  This photo doesn’t quite make the case pro-cat people.  Sadly, I just made the mistake of staring into its eyes.  Now I am colorblind.  Thanks kitty.


   The Red-Lipped Batfish.  It looks like a pancake and a stick of lipstick had an illegitimate angry, hermaphrodite baby.
 
   A Sea-Pig.  Normal pigs are generally ugly anyway, and since they are on land, we have to see them all he time.  I can only be thankful that this beast, possibly the most hideous thing ever created, is stuck underwater, where it will hopefully become extinct tomorrow.


   I don’t know what this fish is. It’s pretty obvious, though, that it’s what happens what you breed Nightcrawler from the X-Men with an obese goldfish, then inject it with a bucket of steroids. 

 
   AND, because it can’t be proper to end a post with a picture of a nightmarish, vomit-inducing creature, here is a little lavender, fairy-looking, smiling, frog-fish.  

  Animal says “EAT ME!”

 

   After I get married and have a baby, my wife will soon, in a justified fit of rage, murder me .  She’ll be inconsolable when she realizes that I took our newborn to a park and returned with someone else’s baby (or some sort of animal).  It will happen.  It’s probably something every parent fears but it never actually occurs.  However, for me it’s utterly inevitable.  When babies are tiny, I cannot tell the difference between them.  They all look the same.  They all have tiny faces with tiny noses, little hands with baby fingers, wear ginormous diapers with pictures of Barney, are bald or look like they’re balding, and have no idea how to walk or read poetry.  How anyone can tell the difference between babies is beyond the mind of someone with even my unparalleled genius.

   I, however, have devised a unique plan to make baby-spotting-woes (and consequently my painful demise) a tortured worry of the past.  Besides using the obvious leash to maintain a constant, albeit pet-like connection with your baby, or by gluing a GPS unit to his forehead, there is a promethean method that utilizes only a marker and your baby’s face.

   I plan to draw a beard on my baby’s face.  Its simplicity is mind-boggling!  With this method I’ll never lose a baby in a crowd.  Since he (or, even better, she!) will stick out like Shaft at an albino convention, I’ll be able to spot him a mile away.  How many babies have beards?  Just mine, and possibly yours!

   I think it’s best to get creative with this idea.  Use washable markers because you may be in the mood to draw different types of beards each day.  Sometimes you may be in the mood for a goatee, sometimes muttonchops, sometimes a Rollie Fingers’ mustache, or even an Abe Lincoln beard (you’ll need some cottonballs and glue for that one).  You can also get really creative and use all the different colors to make your baby look like he tried to eat a rainbow.

   When your wife first learns what you did to your baby’s tiny, scrunched-up face she’ll go batnuts crazy.  However, once she realizes that for the first time since the baby’s birth you 1. Brought home an actual human, and 2. Brought home something that is genetically related to you, she’ll be ecstatic and so enamored with you that she’ll sprint out of the house to buy you a box of 4,000 Crayola Markers so that you can color your baby’s face for the next 30 years.

   …Either that or she’ll run to a lawyer’s office for a divorce. But hey, whatever, you win anyway because now your baby has a goatee.  

 

   Ever heard of a parasite called Toxoplasma gondii?  No?  Well, I’ve learned a bit about it from  Cracked.com and other sites, and it’s almost awesome.  Apparently half of the human race is already infected with this brain parasite.  It’s a common parasite found in cats that ingeniously finds it’s way into rats.  Sounds normal?  Yes.  BUT, once a rat is willingly infected, since the parasite masquerades around as a “good” parasite and thus is obviously welcomed by the rat, it then begins to take over the rat’s brain.  It leaves the rat completely healthy and normal-looking, but controls the rat’s brain and behavior.

   As tests have essentially proven, these infected rats will kill themselves.  Their behavior changes and they will offer themselves up to cats as a meal like you would offer a silver platter full of juicy beetles to Timon and Pumba.  

   So, how does this effect humans?  Tests have proven that there is a strong relationship in humans between schizophrenia and Toxoplasma gondii.  Also, being infected with it changes the personality of humans [turning them into zombies], and pregnant women who are infected tend to give birth to babies with schizophrenia.  Have you ever heard that women, while pregnant, should avoid cat-litter at all costs?  Well, that’s the reason.  They will give birth to zombies.

   The other day, as a friend pointed out to me, cat-people are insane.  Everyone knows that anyone who owns more than one cat is crazy.  It’s a pretty well-accepted fact.  The more cats a person owns the crazier he or she is.  That, being the subsequent conclusion, is also an obvious fact.   I don’t personally know too many (or any) cat-people, but from the numerous ones I’ve seen on TV, I can be sure those facts are true.

   What does this all mean?  People who own cats are no longer in control of their brains; the parasites are in control… or are the cats in control?  Really, the cats are probably in control since the parasites come from cats and force the host to submit to the cats’ desires.  So if half of the world population has essentially become zombies controlled by cats… what is the cats’ next move?

   That is why I have a dog…

…and why I am not human.

    For years I’ve had to suffer the wrath of not having an afro. It’s not easy for a ton (actually, 5) of reasons.

   1.  I have to wear sunblock on my face because I don’t have an afro.  If I had one, it would shade my face from the murderous sun, but alas, I have to create my own shade by wearing a hat or putting on sunblock.  An afro would be so much cheaper than a hat, too.  Plus, sunblock smells like… sunblock.  The smell of it makes me a want to take a shower in boiling acid to burn the scent off my body and out of my nostrils.  Why do I hate that smell?  Who knows.  When I was a child I probably almost drowned in a puddle of sunblock or something.

   2.  I have to wear a helmet while bikeriding.  I’ve always said that if I had an afro, it would be huge, but how big does an afro have to be to function as a helmet?  Mine would be so big that it would protect my skull from all falls, collisions with signposts, hail, bullets, earpopping soundwaves, bombs… everything.

   3.  I have to carry a bottle of water everywhere I go.  I’m always thirsty.  If I had an afro, I could just stick my head in a bathtub (or a pool) full of water and soak it all up to carry with me.  Then whenever I get thirsty, I could just put a straw in my hair and drink.  I’d never have to stop to drink!  I’d be like a camel, but a mini, bipedal, afro-wielding version.

   4.  I’m tired of carrying things in my pockets.  My wallet, my keys, candy, other stuff.  If I had an afro, I’d just toss all that stuff in there.  My hair would be full of candy and credit cards.  It would be like a convenience store, but even bigger and much more awesome.

   5.  I’m also tired of getting haircuts. Sometimes I cut my own hair for fun, but it never comes out right and I look like I stuck my head in an angry shredder or a drunk Edward Scissorhands attacked me. 

   If I had an afro, I’d never trim it.  I’d let it grow forever, until it takes over everything.  My life would be my afro, but I would be okay with that… because what more can you ask for than a giant afro?

So, if you’ve got any tips on how I can grow an afro, let me know.  This dream to grow an afro isn’t some new, ephemeral, ridiculous, weird, or even useless and impractical goal.  It’s real.  It’s life-changing, and has been a goal of mine for over 9 years.  Please help!

   I would like to turn my life into a TV show.  A convergence of TV and my life would be the perfect adventure in comedy and awesome.

   Why would I like my life to be a TV show?  For four reasons.

   1.  A live, studio audience!  Every single person, at one point, including you, has wished that he had an audience to hear that hilarious comment he made that no one else heard.  How could you not want an audience to be there for when you say something ingeniously funny?  There would be laughter all the time on my show!  Plus, the audience would “oooh” and “ahhh” and clap and cheer at all the right times.  You cannot go wrong.   No way.

   2.  A theme song!  A song written specifically for me by Frank Sinatra (posthumously), Lionel Richie, and Nine Days.  Those artists and band would sit down together and they would craft a musical gem for me.   It would be a magical opening theme song that would tug at your heartstrings, strum on your soul, and press down on your laughter button.

   3.  I would also, essentially, be getting paid to live.  And living while getting paid.  Ergo, my job would simply be to get paid.  Job = Get Paid.  What an equation.  What a life.  Very acceptable.

   4.  I would be a beloved TV star!  Babies would be put to bed while clutching a stuffed likeness of me.  Girls would have posters of me on their walls.  Boys would play with action figures of me.  Adults would keep pictures of me in their wallets and purses.  Ninjas would praise me.  Zombies would cower before me.  Chuck Norris would probably even submit to me without a fight.  It would be wonderful.

  The next step?  Pitch it to NBC.  How could they not want this hilarious jaunt through the house of Adam.  That’s what it should be called: The House of Adam.

 

Dear TV networks (even local channels):  I’m willing to accept any reasonable offer.

   I wish people still wore monocles.  Why?  Because monocles are half the mass of glasses but twice the awesome.  If it were more practical I would definitely wear one.  Many years ago I actually wore one for a costume, and consequently that costume turned out to be the best costume of all-time.  On the downside, though, I remember that it was insanely difficult to keep the monocle in place.  Maybe that was because I have a tiny head, or because the monocle was giant, or because it was a $3.00 novelty monocle.   Who knows.

   I wear glasses sometimes… when I’m in the mood.  I can read and see without them, but they make my life a tad bit easier.  However, one of my eyes, my right one, is much weaker than my left.  So, I would guess that if it weren’t for the weak link that is my right eye, I wouldn’t have glasses at all.  The logical conclusion of my eye dilemma?  A monocle.  It would absolutely perfect.  It wouldn’t be a cheap novelty one, or a huge one, but perfectly shaped, contoured, adjusted, and fitted to sit beautifully in my unique eye socket.   So, a monocle actually can be practical.

   I have drawn a picture to help illustrate the inevitable effects of: 1. not wearing a monocle, and; 2. wearing a monocle.  Whilst pondering the image below in relation to your future, remember that at the end of your life, you will either be a monocler (a monocle wearer) or a non-monocler (a non-monocle wearer) – both resulting in your face resembling that of the egg-shaped people in my illustration.  Now, ponder away…

 

 

   Why waste a full pair of glasses when you need only half a pair?  Since I need only one lens, it would be a waste to use two lenses, and the monocle would thus cost only half the price of a full pair of glasses.  Plus, it would take up less space.  It’s disgustingly annoying to keep a huge, bulky, oddly-shaped glasses case in my backpack while I travel.  A monocle case would be perfect.  Much smaller, smoother, rounder, and easier to carry.  A wonderful solution!

   In addition to the monocle, a top hat and cane would complement the look beautifully.  Read my post from last August about top hats and canes for a taste of 19th-century greatness.

      No, I am not trying to dress like Mr. Peanut, it just happens that Mr. Peanut knows what’s awesome and follows his instincts.  This world would be a much better place if we all took a hint from Mr. Peanut.  Remember that.  He’s a smart one, that Mr. Peanut.

 

   I love caviar.  Sometimes, or always actually, I wish I were a millionaire so that I could afford to eat caviar every day.  It’s very expensive, which is why I haven’t had much of it in my lifetime. I’ve bought a few tiny bottles of it, had it at a top sushi restaurant in New Orleans, and ate nine gallons of it at my cousin’s wedding in New Jersey.  It’s fantastic.

   Instead of spending all my money on caviar, which was my original plan, I can get a job in the caviar business.  I can work right on the boat or be the guy who actually extracts the eggs from the fish.  I think that would be the best option since I could sneak as much caviar as I want and no one would be the wiser.   I’ll have secret, unlimited access to it - I’d be a caviar spy… or a thief.  Also, not only will the taste of caviar be permanently drilled into my teeth, I would also forever smell like caviar.  It’s a win-win!

   Win-win?  That’s not enough.  It’s actually a win-win-win.  Why?  Because the sole purpose of my planning to earn a doctorate is that I’ll be able to afford as much caviar as I could possible crave.  If I work as a caviarman, I will save the huge $130,000 educational investment plus I’ll get to skip the four-and-a-half year time investment a doctorate will require.  So, I’ll get instant satisfaction!  Instant caviar!  Forget school!

Perfect.  I win.

Since the minute I was born, I’ve wanted to live in a mall. This dream has never faded – not through elementary school, not through middle school, not through high school, college, or through this current period of my life. Today, I would love to live in a mall just as much as I would have loved it when I was three years old. So, obviously, since this dream has laudably stood the test of time, it is the ultimate, the perfect, the truest dream of them all. Yes. I want to live in a mall.

A mall has everything you could possibly need, and all right at your fingertips. Indulge me, for a tiny moment, while I list the human necessities that a mall can meet.

• Food? Yes. Malls offer a veritable plethora of palatable nourishing consumables. Lots o’ food! Although none of the food from the food courts is kosher, my point is still valid. For the moment, though, let’s pretend all malls are kosher. There’s Chinese food, Japanese food, pizza, nutritious shakes, ice cream, bagels and cream cheese, diner-type food, fast-food, doughnuts, and so much more. You could savagely indulge your appetite forever on the variety of meals offered.
• Clothes? Yes. There are billions, maybe trillions of items of clothing in a mall. Maybe you feel like dressing like a rock star, or a sailor, or a biker, or a baseball player, or a millionaire. The mall has clothes for all your clothing whims. AND, if you want to wash your clothes, instead of throwing them out after you wear them, you can wash them using the washing-machines in the appliance stores!
• Beds? Yes. There are beds in the big department stores. Not only are they nice-looking beds, but they’re top-of-the-line beds with top-of-the-line comforters and sheets. Plus, the pillows are probably huge. Even though every single person who has walked by a comfortable-looking bed in a mall has, at one point in their lives, enthusiastically jumped onto one, you, most likely, wont get a disease by sleeping in those beds.
• Furniture? Yes. Do you feel like curling up on a couch with a blanket and a good book? Go ahead because in the furniture stores there are dozens of couches and hundreds of chairs. You will be able to fulfill your lifelong dream of sitting in a new chair every day, if that’s your dream.
• Security? Yes! You’ll have your own security force! They’ll ride around the mall on their Segways all day solely to protect you! Fantastic!
• Doctors? Kinda. Some malls have dentists in them, and dentists are doctors who can prescribe anything. Remember, though, that if you live in mall then your life is probably perfect and thus, you definitely wont get sick. So, no worries!
• Exercise Yes. Ever heard of sports stores? You can lift weights, use treadmills, throw footballs, play tennis, do yoga, or even just run around the mall. The mall is an absolute dream for anyone who loves to exercise. A dream!
• Hair? Yes. You can totally get your hair cut at a mall. Easy as pie.
• Relaxation? Yes. Massages! If I lived in a mall, I would get a massage every other hour. Also, instead of sleeping I would get massages. Ahhh, wonderful.

I could go on forever with the list of needs that will be met if one lived in a mall… but I wont. Suffice it to say, if anyone lived in a mall he or she would never leave. Why would anyone leave? All your friends would come to you, events would happen in the mall, parties would happen at the mall – It’ll be like living in a little, self-contained, excitement-filled, perfectly-mapped out, and temperature-controlled city. The happy and positive energy within the mall’s walls will be so palpable that you wont even be able to breath! What more could you ask for? Nothing. Nothing at all.

It’s time to move to a mall. Let’s go.

   Many an hour have been spent resolving problems that need not be problems.  There are many difficulties in life that need not be difficulties.  I’ve pinpointed a few of them in my quest to simplify and improve life and decrease time spent fixing issues. 

• I have never, on my first attempt, made a bed correctly.  It takes time to make a bed incorrectly, unmake it, then remake it.  So, when I’ve got to go through all those steps, it takes 300% the time to make the bed then it should.  Ridiculous.  The other day I discovered a solution; all beds should be square.  Being rectangular, the average person has only a 50% chance of placing the sheet correctly on the bed the first time.  If the bed is square, every single person will place the sheet on the bed correctly the first time.  There will be no second time.  Imagine how much time this reshaping will save!  Imagine how much it would change your life!
• Everyone, at least a dozen times, has used his or her cellphone screen as a flashlight.  It barely works, and you're guaranteed to either stub and break your toe or poke your eye out somehow.  I propose that all cellphones contain flashlights.  Imagine how many toes wont be broken and how many eyes wont get poked out.  Personally, I have never broken a toe or lost an eye.  Why?  Because I have a flashlight on my cellphone.  It is a mini flashlight specifically made for cellphones.  It’s been an eye-saver.
• I wish, and I’ve wished for a long while, that white people could grow afros.  The “Jewfro” exists, but that’s not quite the same.  I’ve always wanted an afro.  For years I’ve advised, very strongly, one of my friends to grow an afro.  He began to do so, but eventually started to go bald… and that was the end of that story.  However, if I had the ability to grow an afro, I would grow one so fast and so big that my neck muscles wouldn’t have the strength to hold my head up.  My head would just flop around like a yoyo with an afro.  That’s what I would do.  Definitely.

  

So, those are the three things that I currently wish.  Afros, flashlights, and squares.  The trifecta of awesome.

“Finally, an update!  Where have you been?!”  – that’s what you’re thinking.  Good thought.  Let me explain.  I’ve been out of commission from surgery.  There will be 1-2 more surgeries soon, so hopefully you’ll be able to bear more time, after those surgeries, without posts.  Be strong.  You will survive.

Also, today is the one year anniversary of my blog!  Happy Birthday to The Greatest Site Ever! 

 

Now, to the post:

   I’ve realized, through my many years of existence, that there’s a beautifully direct correlation between whatever you wear on your feet and your success/accomplishment level.  This correlation is not only perfect, but it’s immediate.  Your level of success and accomplishment depends on whether you wear flip-flops, sandals, sneakers, boots, semi-formal shoes, fancy shoes, and most importantly, slippers.  Today, I will explain why one who wears flip-flops will certainly fail… and probably get hurt.

   First, here’s a graph (in the form of a thermometer) that I created.  It reflects the aforementioned correlations.  It’s awesome.

 

 

   Let me explain why flip-flops correlate to the lowest level of success; it is nearly impossible to accomplish anything of significance while wearing flip-flops.  There is no back on them, only a thin piece of foam between your foot and the ground, and only rubber between your toes and over the front of your foot holding your foot to the flop (or the flip.  I think the flop).  How can you accomplish anything while wearing something like that?  Foam never equals success.  Never.  Foam fails [and kills].  Remember that.

   Also, ask yourself, “When do people wear flip-flops?”  The answer should give you serious insight as to why flip-flops inevitably lead to a lack of success.  People wear flip-flops when they sit on a lawn chair or lie in the sand at the beach.  Both are activities where nothing productive is usually accomplished.   Plus, I do not like sand at all.

    It’s totally impossible to safely walk above the speed of .05 miles per hour while wearing flip-flops.  If you do walk faster, you’re bound to take a fatal tumble.  So, with flip-flops, not only will you lie down and accomplish nothing, if you even attempt to move, you’ll move so slowly that you’ll regret ever being born.

    When wearing an item on your foot, that item must protect your foot.  It also must allow you to move freely.  Flip-flops pretend to guard the feet from injury while actually hindering movement and flopping all over the place.  A foot-covering should not flop.  Why?  Because 1. No one has ever attributed his or her success to a flop, and 2. Flopping is obtrusive and annoying, and 3. Just as foam fails, flop fails.  So, foam fails, flop fails, and ultimately, flip will fail you, too.  Thus, flip-flops are the enemy of feet.

       To sum it up, flip-flops lead to regret, failure, and possibly a fatality.

   Isn’t that interesting…

   Isn’t what interesting?  I’ll tell you.  Tiger Woods.  Everyone likes him.  You like Tiger Woods.  I like Tiger Woods.  He likes Tiger Woods.  She likes Tiger Woods.  Everyone likes Tiger Woods.

   How can anyone dislike Tiger Woods?  He’s never done anything wrong; he’s only done everything right.  I dare you to even try to attempt to dig up something he’s done wrong.  I DARE you.

   Can you picture Tiger Woods not smiling?  I know you can’t.  It’s impossible.  Tiger has only one facial expression: a smile.  A humungous smile. 

   Also, he’s a golfer.  Golfing is a harmless sport.  On the golf course, unless you’re Happy Gilmore, golfers are calm, cool, collected, quiet, smooth, and awesome.  How can a rational human being dislike anyone with the qualities of a golfer?  Impossible.  Impossible.

   The only negative about Mr. Tiger Woods?  None.  There isn’t one.  There is absolutely nothing negative about Tiger Woods.  You’d be severely hard-pressed to find a more amiable character.  No one dislikes Tiger Woods because there is no reason to dislike him.  Do you agree with me?  No matter.  You are wrong.

   Lastly, with a name like ‘Tiger,’ he must be a winner.

      see more pwn and owned pictures

   Awesome.  What more could you possibly want?

   The Jerusalem Post just posted an article about a Kosher GPS, made by Mio Technology.  (Get the double entendre in the title now?)  Ooooh.

   How is a kosher GPS different from a regular GPS, you ask?  Good question.  Here’s what it does: 

• Lists thousands of Kosher restaurants.
• Has Tehillim (Book of Psalms)
• Has all three daily prayer services.
• Has a Hebrew Calendar.
• Has additional prayers.
• Lists thousands of synagogues, mikvahs, cemeteries, and holy sites in Israel.

 

   Yes, this device is awesome.   Too bad it’s only available in Israel.  If they made it work internationally, it would make traveling as an observant Jew 1,494,4259,925 times easier than it is now.  Traveling observantly is oh so difficult for many reasons.  What are those reasons?  Well, here’s a few of them, in no particular order:

• You’ve got to find kosher food everywhere.  Or else you’ll be hungry.
• You’ve got to find a place for Shabbos.  Or else your Shabbos meal will consist of the expired NutriGrain bar in your backpack and some grape Powerade.  Also, no one likes to spend Shabbos alone.
• You need to know prayer times and Shabbos times.  Otherwise you may end up saying the morning prayers in the evening, and the evening prayers in the afternoon!  AHH, insanity!
• You need to know where you can pray with a minyan.  Your prayers are stronger with a minyan.

And probably many more reasons that I can’t think of off the top of my head.

   The list of kosher restaurants is probably the best aspect of this new GPS.  If you find and print out lists of kosher restaurants online, they are bound to be outdated because either the restaurant’s closed, it’s lost its kosher certification, it moved, or for a host of other reasons.  I once read a story about these two Americans who were traveling in Spain, and they spent half a day looking for a kosher restaurant they read about online only to find out, once they’d arrived at its door, that it had closed down a couple years ago.  Sad story.  So hopefully this GPS, if they ever take it globally, will be accurate.  It’s nearly impossible to compile all that information without traveling to all those places and checking out all the supposed kosher restaurants… maybe I’ll write them a letter proposing that I travel the world looking for kosher restaurants for them.  That would be a great job.  Traveling and eating.  Fun.

   If this GPS comes out in America, I’ll buy it.  In fact, I’ll buy two - one to keep in each pocket. 

   Anyway, promethean little device.  Very much so.

 

This prank is hysterical.  How could a prank involving zombies not be unbelievably unbelievable?

  

   

   If I lived in Austin and I was driving to work when those signs were flashing that message, I don’t know what I would have done.  I probably would have believed the signs and grabbed the zombie-bashing weapon from the trunk of my car.  Then I’d run around with it screaming and pretending that I was in a zombie movie.  I’d probably yell things like, “It’s zombie bashing time!” and more stupid taglines from awesome zombie movies.   Yeah, that’s what I’d do. 
   Anyway, about zombie movies, the remake of the original Dawn of the Dead is awesome.   It’s one of my favorite movies of all time.  Shaun of the Dead was a pretty good movie if I remember correctly.  28 Days Later was pretty good, except for the bad ending.  Nothing beats a good zombie movie.  Nothing.

   Yay for zombies! 
   Yay for hacking into Austin road signs and changing them to say things to scare drivers on the highway and then making the local news with your prank!  Yay!

    Everyone gets sick at one time or another.  There are many ways to minimize how often you fall ill and many ways to speed up recovery time.  Everybody knows these ways.  Everybody has spent time thinking about these ways.  However, how much time have you actually devoted to the opposite?  To getting and staying sick? Who’s to say that getting sick is less important than avoiding sickness? 

   The following is a list, plus descriptions and pictures, of the most daring and awesome ways to get sick and stay sick:

 

5.  Lick and taste everything. The item that you choose to taste must be frequently touched by the hands of others.  Why?  Because hands are disgusting.  In Latin, hand means very dirty disease.  It’s true.  So, start licking and tasting ATM buttons, a subway poll, a computer mouse in a library, the door handle at your office, the sweaty weight bench at the gym, etc.  The list of absolutely endless, and the opportunities are everywhere.  This method should be started immediately.

 

4.  Thirsty?  Drink some water from a fountain.  I would venture a guess that certain public fountains are clean.  They include very new, clean, elaborate fountains inside new, classy malls.  You should avoid those, especially because their piping is probably clean and lead-free.  To get sick, the public fountain from which you should drink should should very old, outdoors in a very touristy spot, and have lots of coins in it.  There should be pidgins on the fountain, and consequently, lots of bird poop.  Bird poop is good.  Very good.

 

3. If you must go to the doctor, visit one who doesn’t speak your language.  If you speak only English, visit one who speaks only Spanish.  If you speak only Italian (which many of my readers do), visit one who speaks only French.  Simple.  Your effort will result in a wrong diagnosis and a wrong and potentially harmful prescription.   Not only will visiting this doctor keep you ill, but it’ll afford you the opportunity for extra side effects.  Yay!

 

 2.  Never sleep.  Ever.  Avoiding sleep will virtually ensure that you get sick, stay sick, and become sicker by nearly shutting down your immune system.  You wont be able to fight off infections and you wont be able to heal or recover from old ones.  If you don’t sleep, the only way to avoid getting sick is to live in a bubble.  Since you don’t have a bubble (I have one), then you’ll definitely get sick.

 

1.  Walk around all day with your mouth open – you’re bound to have some infectious germ fly in there, especially if you have a big mouth.  Just keep your mouth open all day long.  Keep it open on the bus-ride to work, while in a meeting with your boss, while at the gym, while doing the laundry, until you go to sleep.  It’s even more effective if you can somehow train yourself to sleep with your mouth open.  (On a side note, make a concerted effort to do this in an airplane, where germs float around like they’re having a party).

 

   So, if you follow these five daring and awesome methods, you’re almost guaranteed to get sick.  Good luck!

 

P.S.  If you get get sick by following my advice, you are not allowed to sue me.

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   The school I attended from first through eighth grade, South Area Solomon Schechter Day School (SASSDS), was amazing.  I loved it.  My friends were great; my classes were great; my teachers were great; everything was great.

   My sister and two brothers also attended that school, and recently, while cleaning out a cabinet in the dining room of our house, my youngest brother discovered a Chanukia that he created several years ago there.  It’s a nostalgic piece of Schectorobilia.  Take a look:

Very nice.  Very damaged.  Very clearly done by a child who couldn’t stay within the lines.

    There is one serious problem with this Chanukia… Can you spot it?

(by the way, the difference between a Menorah and Chanukia is that…

• a regular Menorah holds seven candles and is a powerful symbol of Judaism.
• a Chanukia (or Chanukah Menorah) holds eight candles plus the Shamash (for a total of nine candles), and is lit on Chanukah.  Each candle (not including the Shamash), represents one day of the eight-day long miracle of Chanukah.  This miracle occurred in the Temple in Jerusalem during the time of Judah the Maccabee.  After the Romans desecrated the Temple, there was enough oil to last only one day, and miraculously, that one-day’s worth of oil lasted a full eight days!

…that is the difference between a Chanukia and a Menorah)

   Back to the problem… were you able to see it? 

  Okay, here is the issue:  It’s made of wood!  How often do you see items that hold fire and candles made of wood?  NEVER.  Why not?  Because it’ll inevitably catch fire or at least burn itself.  So, to the teacher at Schechter that had my brother make a wooden Menorah: “That was a crazy move.  You are crazy.”

   As evidenced by the picture, someone in my family lit this piece of Chanukah insanity and the Shamash holder inevitably burned.  Since the first two days’ holders are missing and the third day’s isn’t burnt at all, we can deduce that whomever lit this Chanukia learned his or her lesson pretty quickly, on the first or second day.  We are lucky the house didn’t burn down.  That would not have been good. 

So, the morals of this post?

• The difference between a regular Menorah and a Chanukia is important.
• Do not start a fire on or in a wooden object.
• Do not build a fire-holder out of wood.