Pro Tip....

If you live in the projects, it is generally considered "bad form" to have two (coun't 'em, two!) giant, lighted, inflatable plastic Santas in your goddam yard. I wish I'd had my camera to record this one.

Las Vegas X-mas

Each summer for the last few years I have vacationed in the American west. Many of the western states, Arizona, Utah, et. al. are notable for their national parks and monuments, in addition to their generally beautiful though often desolate scenery. I typically pick a city as a “base of operations” then rent a car and drive to sites of interest in the vicinity. The thousands of miles of trails available provide the opportunity to intimately experience the region's natural beauty.

One additional advantage of this location as a vacation spot is that it contains some of the most sparsely populated regions in the United States. The value of this is that, although the waterhead coefficient of the U.S. population is fairly uniform, with less population there are simply fewer waterheads to avoid. The decrease in energy spent deflecting the mind numbing sound waves emanating from their infectious gobs makes for a happier me.

Perhaps more on this later. . .

Now as anyone knows, a common topic of conversation between casual acquaintances is “What I did last summer.” It is important to note that almost no one actually wants to know what YOU did last summer the just want to burble about what THEY did last summer. I theorize that it is a waterhead version of “my dad can beat up your dad” - my vacation can beat up your vacation. They can't just be honest and just say “Wanna hear about my vacation” because that opens the door to refusal. While intellectually unable to engage in genuine subterfuge, they appear to do so and feign interest in your life so they can run roughshod over you to get to their real agenda.

“So, where did you go on vacation?”

“Well, I went. . .”

“Really, WELL I WENT. . .”

Then they ramble on about how great a time they had, and how it was so good for them to have some quality time with their grubs, and how they found cheap tickets to the boogers-of-the-stars museum on the web. “Oh, and you can actually see a nose hair in Angelina Jolie's. . . Blather, blather, blather.”

Here's a recent personal example.

“So, where did you go on vacation?”

“Well, I went out west. Northern Arizona.”

“Really, did you go to Vegas. You really need to see it. It's incredible.”

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! Why in Gods Navel would I EVER do that. That's a fucking nightmare. I shudder when I think about it. That place is corpulent with with the brain dead; the stench of it reaches high unto the heavens. I'd rather sit in the middle of my bed and hit myself in the head with a 3-pound sledge until I shit myself.

Besides I've already seen it. I've seen Christmas in Amurica.

I'll explain later. . .

Inanity. Volume 1, Number 1: Snow.

As time goes on we will use this space in our efforts to plumb the depths of the waterhead psyche in order to determine just how close they are to causing the universe to implode because of the emptiness of their souls and minds. One of my least favorite aspects of waterhead-kind is their innate ability to spew forth utterly worthless...

INANITY

NOUN: Total lack of ideas, meaning or substance: barrenness, blankness, emptiness, hollowness, vacancy, vacuity, vacuousness>

(From Roget's II The New Thesaurus, Third Edition)

Inanity is such a broad brush. In order for us to evaluate inanity as a primary trait in waterheads, we shall have to consider specific instances... specific conditions under which inanity mixes with the very air around us… suffusing our immediate environment with hypergolic boredom... such as the 24 hour period immediately preceding the forecasted beginning of any winter weather event (which I shall say more about later).

In all areas of our interaction with other humans we are expected to grow and mature as we go through life. Starting out with a walnut-sized lump of mush humans begin to learn things. As our heads grow (either from being filled with knowledge or from copious amounts of the dishwater colored liquid so prevalent in much of the population), so do our brains. Our thought processes go through various stages of development as well, ie: concrete operational, formal operational… Much of humanity seems to have arrested this mental development pretty early on. Here the species diverges into two streams, “normal folk” and “waterheads.” Some waterheads are possessed of the compulsion to open the blow hole under their nose and utter inane statements with the presumption that there might be someone within earshot who gives a shit. As bad as this is when it happens, the real danger is that one small inanity will almost always evoke more and more… spreading like an internet chain letter. But back to the weather…

It is quite common in the Northern Hemisphere during the winter months for surface temperatures to drop below freezing (32° F/0° C). Occasionally an extra-tropical cyclonic weather system will form near the boundary between warm and cool air masses. Since these systems derive their energy from warm, moist air rising and cool, dry air sinking, they are often accompanied by clouds and … you guessed it… precipifuckintation!

Now. During the colder months this precipifuckintation can come in many forms. There is “rain,” usually appearing when the temperature is at or above freezing. Next, when the temperature is above around 25° F but below 32° F, conditions are perfect for precipifuckintation in the form of “freezing rain.” As the temperature drops even more we might see “sleet.” Then, when the temperature is just right, you get “snow.”

Okay. Why in the hell am I bustin’ out with the scientific 411 on the white shit that falls from the sky in winter? I’ll tell you. I’m guessing that anyone who has made it this far possesses the capacity for abstract thought, so can we assume from the above that when conditions are right it’s going to fucking snow? Good.

Why are all the waterhead retards obsessed with this otherwise easily explained phenomenon? Why do they care that it is snowing in the next county over? Why in the frozen fuck do they have to purchase milk and bread when these conditions are imminent? Is it to give themselves an excuse to demonstrate that they are no better at driving than they are at thinking? Perhaps, but I’ll save that for another day.

But WHY, OH GOD WHY, must they discuss it with me!!!!??? Perhaps it is the weather… you know, maybe the dropping barometric pressure whips the dishwater in their heads to a froth, creating an intense pain for which the only antidote is the sound of their own voice. Why must they regurgitate the handful of sentences that will always frost my ass, “Did YOU get any snow?” “Think it will snow?” “It’s snowing in ….. (fill in the blank)” “They’re calling for snow, you know!”

This last one is particularly malignant. I can always see it coming in their eyes before they strike. Their eyes turn cold and gray and empty as the dishwater bubbles behind them. Their mouths turn up in a knowing smirk, as if the NOAA website were encrypted with a 256-bit double Kobinachi algorithm and they had the key! Then, almost in slow motion, their lips begin to move and a droning noise not unlike the sound of a record album set on 16rpm (yeah, I’m an old mother fucker).

“They’re calling for snow, you know!”

I avert my eyes to avoid being drawn in, but the damage is done. The inanity has burst forth from the waterhead’s maw like a Peter North cumshot devoid of DNA! Empty…. Harmless…. Only a few words. But other waterheads have heard… or perhaps sensed that there is something loose in the air! They pounce upon one another each vying to be the first to announce, with glee, that it might snow. Seeking to bask in the smug satisfaction of knowing that THEY have been the first to birth this tidbit of information to the world.

But what of the waterheads who were not first to speak of the frozen magic due to cover the land? There is no penultimate prize in this game. They will continue to burble about the impending storm. Speculating on the amount, the temperature, the size and shape of the goddam flakes… glorying in the sheer power of having simply spoken of the doom which is this latest weather event.

So, if you know someone who exhibits this behavior, you might send them here for a few months so that they can overcome their infatuation with snow. Or encourage them to commit suicide. Or both.

To be continued…gotta run out to buy some milk and bread. And beer. Würd.

über

Hello World: We hate you.

We really fucking hate you.
Seriously.

You waterheads represent all that is truly wrong and evil with the human race. You are worthless, and really are not deserving of our contempt. Don't deceive yourself any longer. Go here to help make the world a better place.