Friday, January 8, 2010

There is No "I" in "Terrorism"

You know that moment when you walk out of a public restroom and first you start to go one way and then you second-guess yourself because the peeing got you all turned around so you start to walk in the other direction, but then you see something that reorients you and you realize the first direction was the right way after all so you stand there for a second and look around to see who saw you do that, because it sorta looks like you're standing in front of the bathroom and doing the cha-cha-cha, and then you realize your STILL standing in front of the bathroom but now you look contemplative and like you are maybe thinking about something you just saw in there that you liked, so you finally turn and go the right way, secretly wishing that someone had just gone ahead and poisoned you this morning so all the embarrassment could have been avoided?

Well I want to figure out a way to use the Human Genome Project or whatever to bottle that emotion and sell it to the Army as a chemical weapon. Because it's simultaneously like wishing you were dead and being lost and super-self-consciousness and incredible embarrassment all at once. If you sprayed a blast of it in someone's face they would probably start to cry and turn super sensitive and then if you gave them a teddy bear they would probably curl up in a ball on the hard, arid desert* soil and take a nap. But guess what? That teddy bear? C4. BOOOOM!!! HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Fuck you, Terrorist!

And then an eagle would scream and jets would fly overhead while I salute them in a low-angle slow-motion shot and kids are running through the streets of a small town with ice cream and there would be fireworks and BMX jumps and hot Army chicks willingly giving out fellatios and then the whole world turns into a giant American flag while Van Halen wails a killer guitar riff from the David Lee Roth years all over the place.

I would call the chemical "America Freedom Rockets Dinosaurs Vagina-oxl**" and that my friends is how we beat terrorists where I'm from.***

*I don't mean to be racist against deserts because there are plenty of deserts like Antarctica that aren't crawling with terrorists as much as with penguins. And those adorable little fellows always looked dressed to the nines!!

This is obviously photoshopped because no penguin would ever look so unkempt!

** I added the "-oxl" so all the scientific community wouldn't get up in arms and then they would remember all the wedgies handsome guys like me always gave them and then no Nobel Prize for Sexy for me. Stupid Stuck-up Scientists.

*** Technically I'm from my Mom's vagina, and I don't know what it's policy on terrorism is. I could ask it. But it's always passed out on the couch and smelling about 15 sailors full.


Steam Me Up, Kid said...

I was totally believing this scenario, I mean, you totally had me with the BMX jumps and the C4 teddy bear and all, until you said hot army chicks giving out fellatios.

Cause...c'mon, Kurt.


Think about it.

Alison said...

Dude, as long as Van Halen's wailing a killer guitar riff from the Diamond Dave days, I'm IN! Does that mean your "America Freedom Rockets Dinosaurs Vagina-oxl" chemical will make them get back together forever?

justsomethoughts... said...

you are insane
in the good kind of way

bikramyogachick said...

hhhmmmmm. I didn't realize penguins were so well dressed!

Mona Lott said...

Never trust a teddy bear. *salutes*

Jen O. said...

Every time I come out of a store at the mall, I go the wrong way because my internal compass doesn't work right. I actually don't think I have one at all. I usually smash face-first into the breast of the tailgating, ass-rider behind me.

Oh, and I don't think Hot Army Chicks are three words that are supposed to be combined in the same sentence. God doesn't like liars.

Carolyn...Online said...

I think you could just bottle whatever hormones are running through a 12 year old girl because I think that's the exact same emotion that you've just described there. And yes, being a 12 year old girl sucked.

Kim said...

I wonder if your blog will get flagged now with all this terrorist talk and how long the CIA will read about your mother's vagina before they'll finaly take you off the list.

Sarah P said...

I know exactly the emotion you're talking about, except instead of "emotion," I call it a foundation of my existence.

Also, your penguin snowman also looks a little like a buffalo - or bison, if you're a stuck-up asshole who uses fancy words.

Ed Adams said...

After spending about an hour reading and re-reading this post, I finally found it.

I found the "I" in Terrorism.

It's right here "T E R R O R ->I<- S M"

Ha! What do I win?

Miss Yvonne said...

I do that wrong way turn thing whenever I get off an elevator. Something about them makes me think the world has spun on it's axis. Either that, or I'm just stupid like your mom.

The Jules said...

I think this post will indeed get flagged by the authorities in your country, because of all the scary key words that get recognised by the supercomputers (CIA, terrorists, C4, Mom's vagina), but then it will become policy.

And in just a few short months you will become the first non-desert discriminating president of Americana.

Hey, it's the future calling, and it wants you!

HappyHourSue said...

And Taylor Swift....Don't forget Taylor Swift.

Hope said...

Coming out of lurkdom to leave an award on your bloggie doorstep. Love. your. blog.

Cynthia said...

Yes that is a bad moment in front of the bathroom door. Made worse if you manage to trip and blush at the same time that you do the disoriented cha cha. I'm extra good at tripping and blushing at the same time.

No segueway.

David Lee Roth was in our ER this week to work some hours as an EMT. Apparantly he keeps up his certification. His Mom probably told him that he should always have something to fall back on. That's my guess. I like a guy who listens to his Mom. (Except for when it was guys I was dating and their Moms told them not to date me. Otherwise I like it.)