Written for alan_shore for the drabble meme. Requested song was Can't Tell Me Nothing by Kanye West.
"Stephen, I still don't understand-"
"Cut the chatter, Red Two," Stephen barked, pointing a finger at Tad, the consistently harried building manager who by all intents and purposes, should be thankful that he has a job (and health insurance!) in these troubled economic times. "Clearly
I have my methods, don't question them."
"But Stephen," Tad scrunched his nose as he looked up into the seat where his boss was sitting, and consequently, the sun. "I don't understand why we even need a tractor, much less are stealing one."
"Oh, sweet, simple Tad. I would pet that curly head of yours if I wasn't so high up on my throne of plenty." His cufflinked arm made a broad sweeping gesture to explain just how plentiful. "We need to show our audience that I am a man of the people. What better way to do that than with farming and crime?"
"But isn't crime a bad
"Oh Tad," Stephen scoffed with what he thought was an understanding smile. "I have excellent lawyers."
"I guess that does explain why we had to come to Massachusetts for the tractor..."
"Exactly! Always have to stay one step ahead of the law." Stephen gave his temple a self-congratulatory tap. "Now uh, go find some thug to hot wire this thing will you? I don't seem to see a key."
I don't understand why certain products exist. I'm all for marketing, who doesn't love a good Geico gecko? They are so cute with their silly little accents. I'm getting one for my daughter for Christmas actually, but don't tell! I hope she doesn't read this. That could ruin stuff.
Geckos and hamburglers and Joe Camels aside, one product in the lucrative sex industry that I don't understand is the Obama condom
. What makes it Obama like? Does it make your junk give speeches? Say what you want, Obama fans, but unless your girl is into mutated body parts, I don't think she's going to go down on your talking head.
Maybe the politician who really needs his own condom is Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich, who was recently arrested for a number of charges
, among them trying to sell Obama's vacant senate seat to the highest bidder. He knew he was being investigated and only a few days ago he said he had nothing to hide and publicly stated that anyone who wanted to could tape his phone calls. Like the esteemed Dr. House says, "everybody lies". If this guy is going to jail, he may need to give his cellmate Bubba some protection, because you know he's gonna end up as somebody's bitch. It's the way of the streets, yo.
Obama says he knew nothing about this. Hm. For a really smart guy, he sure seems to not know a lot of things. First he didn't know about his pastor, now this. Chicago is like Kentucky, all inbred but with possibly more annoying accents. For him to have not heard anything anywhere at anytime with those big ol' ears of his is pretty unbelievable.
Nation, I gave you the chance to avoid having either an Obama or McCain presidency a long time ago, but did you listen? Nooooooooo. I'm not a serious candidate you said, I'm unelectable you said. Whatever. I still think I would have made a better president than any of the yahoos who ran. The Colbert Nation is very real, but it's not America. I am the glow in the dark Spongebob band-aid that this country needs. Remember your write-ins four years from now, people! You can choose the running mate, I'm not picky, though Mickey Mouse seems cool.
I don't know why anybody hasn't written about this before but the longest day is CLEARLY when we fall back for Daylight Savings Time. It adds an hour to a twenty four hour day, therefore making it twenty five hours. Done. What's there to debate about? Godless pagan people, don't you dare mention your heathen Summer Solstice. Just because the sun is up in the sky doesn't mean that the day gets any longer. It's still twenty four hours. If your argue with me, you can't count. Ask anyone how long a day is. Ask Jack Bauer. That guy knows what I'm talking about.
Everyone else who responded to this topic is being all metaphorical and whatnot, whining about how agonizing their days are. I'm all for metaphors. My hand is a giant tree made out of Sharpie markers who leak rainbow gold made to cleanse the world from Clifford the Big Red Dog (he's a Commie) and Cher (no I don't believe in life after love). See, that is what literate types call an extended metaphor. I don't read, but I know this anyway. I'm educated. I'm a doctor. And I know how long the longest day is, unlike most of these idiots.
You know who is a great man? Elvis. I say is because despite what many of you say, the King is not dead. He's hanging out in Mexico buying Cadillacs with his homie Tupac. Wut wut.
Before his alleged
death Elvis famously sang that "fools rush in". I've done my share of rushing. Rushing for my frat in college, rushing the quarterback when I played football, rushing to get the last can of Pringles at the supermarket (once you pop, the fun don't stop!) but one thing I definite don't rush into is the gay.
Ok, so yeah, maybe I have a beautiful baby 20 year old girl, and maybe she was conceived one night while myself, Tony Stark, sea foam green mist, and a giant bottle of tequila (I ate the worm!) were in the same room. Whatever. There was a girl there too. Maria the room service housekeeper brought us wonderfully fluffy towels. Not that we needed them.
I'm the exception the proves the rule. I'm here to tell the world that yes Virginia, a girl can have two hetero daddies. How can you look at this
piece of man meat and not think hot and sweaty man-woman love that smells like science and cash?
Um. He looks like a drug dealer there. Maybe this
? Or this
Tony, stop looking so gay
, it's ruining my argument.
Better yet, just look at me
. I'm the one who brought sexy back anyway. Patriotic AND manly! What more could you ask for? Nothing, except maybe a cigarette after a round of hot hot lovin'.OOC: Muses referred to are aestark and xaxayayana who are fantastic enough to be my partners in crime with all this silliness.
Excuse me? No. Why do I need to talk about politics on my own free time just because you asked me to? You didn't even say please. In case you haven't heard, I have my own tv show on which I talk about politics and get PAID for it. If you want to hear me talk about how this country is going down the toilet due to tree huggers, hippies, the "musical stylings" of Barry Manilow, and as always, bears, you're going to have to tune in to Comedy Central on Monday through Thursday nights to do so. I am not your trained monkey. I'm not your trained anything. (Well, except potty trained, but I know that we're all civilized people here. Anyone who still wets the bed is unworthy of reading my blog. Hey you wallowing in the yellow stained chair, yeah you, don't think I can't see you sitting there naked except for your Depends. Get out and take your Clive Owen DVD collection with you. Leave the prunes, they're mine.)
I'm sure you expected me to rant and be predictable and give you a good laugh. Well the jokes' on you, expectant people! Take this prompt and stick it on the TV, then wait for 11:30 pm Eastern time to roll around. If you don't, I know of another place where you can stick it. I'll answer this on my own time, nevermind that by the time you see my show, it'll be a recording. If you don't care enough to be one of my flock in person then you don't deserve to have instant access to the goods. Yes, that reference was sexual, just in case you were wondering.
Ok, yeah, this quote is total bullshit. Do you know what really grows on you when you get older? Gray hairs. Gray with an a because that's the AMERICAN way to do it, I don't want to hear this gray with an e crap. That makes it grey then it's not gray anymore. Firefox spell check doesn't even count it as a word, so there.
Anyway, gray hair grows on your head if you're lucky. A lot of people go bald, now I am a Catholic and I respect the church as much as anybody, but I'm not ready to go around looking like a monk anytime soon. I'm a brother, but not that kind of brother.
Luckily, I only have a few stray GRAY hairs around my temples. Yes, I know from far away it looks like I have jet black hair that would blend in perfectly with the night sky, but look closely and you'll see the GRAYS. I refuse to die my hair, that's for girls.
You know what else grows on old people? Warts. I don't have any but my Grandpa Fred did. When I was eight I told him that he looked like a pirate ship with barnacles all over it. He kicked my ass, literally. Damn, Grandpa had some pointy boots. Old people also have GRAY hair that grows out of their ears and nose. They also eat at the Golden Corral a lot and go to sleep at 4:30. Getting old isn't about happy endings. It's about prune juice and potlucks and bingo every Thursday at your local rec center.