Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Arrogance
That last post seemed arrogant, and it was. But here's the deal with arrogance: anybody who says you're arrogant is just jealous of how great you are. Remember that. If anyone tries to "bring you back down to earth", remind them - earth sucks. You can keep it. Only a jerk would want earth and you're beneath me anyway. It's gracious things like that that prove you're better than them.
Hmm... Good Question, Me
How do you break up with someone that's not as great as you? It's easy. Just keep in mind two things: No one out there is as great as you, and great partners are easy to come by.
Let's tackle them one by one.
No one is as great as you. If they were, they would be with your girlfriend/boyfriend right now. But they're not, so now you're girlfriend/boyfriend is sure to live a life knowing they've settled for less, romantically. Isn't that great? Doesn't it feel good to know that for somewhere out there, whoever they are with is only because they're not still with you? Power. It gives one a great sense of power.
Nothing is easier to come by than a great partner. If you are in a lawn and garden section, and you're looking at lawn chairs stacked 12 feet in the air, priced 3 for a dollar, remember that truly great partners are even easier to come by than that. Ask yourself these two simple questions - Are they desperate/capable of desperation? and Have they already rejected me? You want a "Yes/No". A "Yes/Yes" will also do. A "No/Yes" is the hardest, but it can work as long as you constantly remind them how great you are.
Excellent question.
Let's tackle them one by one.
No one is as great as you. If they were, they would be with your girlfriend/boyfriend right now. But they're not, so now you're girlfriend/boyfriend is sure to live a life knowing they've settled for less, romantically. Isn't that great? Doesn't it feel good to know that for somewhere out there, whoever they are with is only because they're not still with you? Power. It gives one a great sense of power.
Nothing is easier to come by than a great partner. If you are in a lawn and garden section, and you're looking at lawn chairs stacked 12 feet in the air, priced 3 for a dollar, remember that truly great partners are even easier to come by than that. Ask yourself these two simple questions - Are they desperate/capable of desperation? and Have they already rejected me? You want a "Yes/No". A "Yes/Yes" will also do. A "No/Yes" is the hardest, but it can work as long as you constantly remind them how great you are.
Excellent question.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Mix Up
Today I almost confused an Ovenbird for a Swainson Thrush. Hahaha! As you can imagine, it was awkward for a second but everyone was good natured about it. Ovenbirds are used to it.
Not like that time I confused a human and an Orangutan.
"What did you call me?" he said.
"Orangutan, hide! Before the humans learn you can speak their language!" I said. Then he started hiding, then remembered "wait, I'm the human". It took him about 40 minutes. Finally, he came out of the closet and said, "Hold on..." Then he thought about it for another 40 minutes, twisting his face in a grotesque parody of thought.
I left. I knew he'd be mad. Humans are sensitive about being called anything they're not - orangutan, ape, piece of shit - even if you mean it as a compliment.
He sent me an e-mail later that week saying,
That hurt.
Not like that time I confused a human and an Orangutan.
"What did you call me?" he said.
"Orangutan, hide! Before the humans learn you can speak their language!" I said. Then he started hiding, then remembered "wait, I'm the human". It took him about 40 minutes. Finally, he came out of the closet and said, "Hold on..." Then he thought about it for another 40 minutes, twisting his face in a grotesque parody of thought.
I left. I knew he'd be mad. Humans are sensitive about being called anything they're not - orangutan, ape, piece of shit - even if you mean it as a compliment.
He sent me an e-mail later that week saying,
Dear Ron,
NOT! U r NOT dear to me at all!!!!11
sincerely,
Peter Voser, Chief Executive of Shell Oil
That hurt.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Lessons
Every story should have a moral, a lesson, so: Once there was a little boy who had to learn a lesson, so he got himself involved in a fable.
"But I don't want to learn a lesson," the little boy said.
"Too bad," said the author, "Fable time."
So the boy did a slightly immoral thing, and then was horribly over-punished with what's known as "Germanic Death" - a witch eating him, or a wolf eating him, or a witch burning him alive in an oven and feeding him to a wolf, or troll. I think the thing he did was get lured into a house made of gingerbread cookies and candy like anyone would.
Who wouldn't? It sounds delicious! Well, I would've started outside by eating the candy vinyl siding or what-have-you, maybe the gumdrop gutter... I bet there was probably a garden that sprouted flowers that were really candy. You better believe I'd eat those. Mmm... MmmMmmmMmmmmm... Jmmmmmmmmm... Mmmmmmmmmm... Mmm.... MMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmMMMMMMMmmmmmMMM.... I say good work, kid. Just next time, don't let a witch eat you. That's my lesson. To me, that's the moral of the story. But he's dead, so that doesn't help him.
Which leads me to the real lesson: don't write sick, cruel stories about kids.The house was made of gingerbread and candy. How could any child be expected to resist that? If he did, then there's really something wrong with him. It'd take a lot of fables to fix that. So I blame the parents. And more so, the witch. That boy should not have learned any lessons.
So I guess the moral of that story is, don't learn something. Let someone else do it. If you're curious or afraid, good! Follow that. Someone else will try it eventually, and that saves you a lot of trouble, and bravery. Don't let courage get the best of you. Never let courage win.
"But I don't want to learn a lesson," the little boy said.
"Too bad," said the author, "Fable time."
So the boy did a slightly immoral thing, and then was horribly over-punished with what's known as "Germanic Death" - a witch eating him, or a wolf eating him, or a witch burning him alive in an oven and feeding him to a wolf, or troll. I think the thing he did was get lured into a house made of gingerbread cookies and candy like anyone would.
Who wouldn't? It sounds delicious! Well, I would've started outside by eating the candy vinyl siding or what-have-you, maybe the gumdrop gutter... I bet there was probably a garden that sprouted flowers that were really candy. You better believe I'd eat those. Mmm... MmmMmmmMmmmmm... Jmmmmmmmmm... Mmmmmmmmmm... Mmm.... MMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmMMMMMMMmmmmmMMM.... I say good work, kid. Just next time, don't let a witch eat you. That's my lesson. To me, that's the moral of the story. But he's dead, so that doesn't help him.
Which leads me to the real lesson: don't write sick, cruel stories about kids.The house was made of gingerbread and candy. How could any child be expected to resist that? If he did, then there's really something wrong with him. It'd take a lot of fables to fix that. So I blame the parents. And more so, the witch. That boy should not have learned any lessons.
So I guess the moral of that story is, don't learn something. Let someone else do it. If you're curious or afraid, good! Follow that. Someone else will try it eventually, and that saves you a lot of trouble, and bravery. Don't let courage get the best of you. Never let courage win.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Good Way to Fail
We all have failures. The best thing to do is to sit up at night and think about them. For instance, once I thought I could get a date with this really cute, smart human girl named Dora Robinson. I did. It was great. We're still together. Bad example.
Well, so one time I thought I'd buy Dora some flowers, and I told her I would, so if I didn't it would be bad. I really set myself up for failure that time. But I'd already bought them by the time I told her, and they were very fresh so they wouldn't go bad or anything - they were in great condition. Ok, that's another bad example of failing.
Hey! I failed to give a good example! See? It's easy to fail. That's something to dwell on at night. Of course, I just gave a good example, so I guess I'm not a failure like you might be.
How do you know if you're a failure? It's easy to tell. Have you ever failed at anything? I mean anything. Then yes.
Once I was navigating an asteroid belt. The asteroids communicated to me that their corner of the universe was shrinking and within their lifetime they'd be enveloped into true nothingness. "Bad news, guys," I said and sped off. I don't know how that's related, but it's sad. And failure is pretty sad - so that's how.
I think one of the best ways to fail is to do it on purpose, like a magic trick. "Oh no, I've lost my hundred dollar bill." Everyone is sad. "Or is it behind your ear?" Everyone is happy, some are laughing. It's good to fail on purpose, when the goal is really to show everyone what a success you are. Still, try not to fail. If I did that magic trick it'd just be, "Surprise, a hundred dollars behind your ear!" Everyone would be happy, some laughing. "And you get to keep it! You all get 100 dollars! Check behind your ears, everyone!" Everyone's ecstatic. That's how I do magic - very very well.
The other day I stepped in dog poop. That was a failure. That's the failure I was sittng up and thinking about. Dwelling on the past is good because it changes it. If you think about something for long enough, and really give yourself a hard time about it, eventually the time space continuum warps around you and has sympathy and agrees to correct that embarrassing mistake. At least it does for me. You guys are just screwed.
Well, so one time I thought I'd buy Dora some flowers, and I told her I would, so if I didn't it would be bad. I really set myself up for failure that time. But I'd already bought them by the time I told her, and they were very fresh so they wouldn't go bad or anything - they were in great condition. Ok, that's another bad example of failing.
Hey! I failed to give a good example! See? It's easy to fail. That's something to dwell on at night. Of course, I just gave a good example, so I guess I'm not a failure like you might be.
How do you know if you're a failure? It's easy to tell. Have you ever failed at anything? I mean anything. Then yes.
Once I was navigating an asteroid belt. The asteroids communicated to me that their corner of the universe was shrinking and within their lifetime they'd be enveloped into true nothingness. "Bad news, guys," I said and sped off. I don't know how that's related, but it's sad. And failure is pretty sad - so that's how.
I think one of the best ways to fail is to do it on purpose, like a magic trick. "Oh no, I've lost my hundred dollar bill." Everyone is sad. "Or is it behind your ear?" Everyone is happy, some are laughing. It's good to fail on purpose, when the goal is really to show everyone what a success you are. Still, try not to fail. If I did that magic trick it'd just be, "Surprise, a hundred dollars behind your ear!" Everyone would be happy, some laughing. "And you get to keep it! You all get 100 dollars! Check behind your ears, everyone!" Everyone's ecstatic. That's how I do magic - very very well.
The other day I stepped in dog poop. That was a failure. That's the failure I was sittng up and thinking about. Dwelling on the past is good because it changes it. If you think about something for long enough, and really give yourself a hard time about it, eventually the time space continuum warps around you and has sympathy and agrees to correct that embarrassing mistake. At least it does for me. You guys are just screwed.
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