One particularly joyous New Year’s Day, I actually figured out how to play “Auld Lang Syne” on a champagne flute.
That’s how we all remember it.
And that’s how I got my nickname.
Which I forget what it was, though.
[Michaelanthony Mitchell | Rantalogue.com]
He put down his half-empty glass of whisky, paused, and began to philosophize.
“You know, I had an unfortunate need to visit a shopping mall the other day. It was absurdly crowded ― I mean, packed!
“I really, truly hate crowds. Where there’s a crowd, there’s a war of the wills. And where there’s a war of the wills, there are assholes.”
He continued to sip his Scotch. After another brief pause, he seemed to get fed up by his thoughts. He abruptly resumed his diatribe.
“But how many people are willing to admit to being assholes?
“Walking, driving, waiting in line ― these are but a few of the potentially crowded situations in which the asshole makes himself known.
“To an asshole, you’re always in the way. It never even occurs to the asshole that he ― sometimes she ― might be the inconsiderate one.
“’Watch where you’re going, asshole!’ they hiss, if they acknowledge you at all, as they plow through you and the rest of the inconvenient human population.”
I don’t know whether it was the anger or the whisky, but he was starting to sweat. But he kept on ranting.
“The asshole’s greatest enemy is other assholes. When assholes collide, they shit all over each other.
“But like I said, most people aren’t willing to admit to being assholes. They always blame others for their own inability to cope with the Hell of other people. And Hell is, indeed, other people. Assholes are right about that, if nothing else.”
He gulped the remaining third of his drink and lowered the glass with a clunk.
“Then again, I’m an asshole. But at least I’m willing to admit it.”
[Michaelanthony Mitchell | Rantalogue.com]
Preachers are amazing performers.
Ever seen one of those guys at a podium?
During the entire sermon, they almost always manage to keep a straight face.
[Michaelanthony Mitchell | Rantalogue.com]
There’s an organization, called the Methuselah Foundation, dedicated to the extension of our healthy lifespans. It seems to me that they’re just too embarrassed to admit that they want to make humans immortal.
But if they are — and even if they aren’t — Methuselah is dead. He was the oldest person in the Bible, but he died. Kind of a bummer, symbolically speaking.
“Damn! He was almost immortal. Oh, well. He’s still the one to beat.”
I was discussing this with someone — just for small talk — and he made an excellent point: If there ever is biological immortality, it’s going to be a privilege of the wealthy.
And I agreed. It’ll be the immortal “one percent.” And it wouldn’t work, because resentful, bankrupt mortals would get fed up and assassinate these moneyed Methuselahs. We all know how Dracula ends.
All of this brings something to mind, which is that I sincerely hope there is not a Lazarus Foundation. Not because I’m against bringing people back from death, but because I find the whole zombie fad painfully boring.
It melts my “braaains.”
[Michaelanthony Mitchell | Rantalogue.com]
A buddy asked me if I wanted to bet on something.
I said no.
But it turned out I would’ve won.
So I told him, “You owe me a bet!”
[Michaelanthony Mitchell | Rantalogue.com]
Have you noticed that in the United States, most of the people who want gun laws to be “liberal” are “conservative?”
I know ― that was a cheap shot.
[Michaelanthony Mitchell | Rantalogue.com]
The word “scone” leads me to expect something shaped like a cone.
But scones are never cone-shaped.
They’re usually triangular.
Kind of like seeing a cone, but from the side.
I’m starting to suspect that “scone” is actually short for “sideways cone.”
[Michaelanthony Mitchell | Rantalogue.com]
I found a peanut,
and picked it up to nibble:
The shell was empty.
A guy passed by me on his way into the park. He had his entire family with him.
On his left, he had his toddler daughter by the hand.
On his right, he had a big, peppy puppy on a leash.
In the middle, he had his other, smaller, daughter strapped across his chest.
And also in the middle, on the other side, he had his wife, who was up his ass.
[Michaelanthony Mitchell | Rantalogue.com]
