Hey, again, all.
Well, I’ve watched a helluva lot of basketball, and I’m pretty damned pooped, but I said I’d be back again today, so here I am. Thanks to all who left messages about all the assheaded, boobered crap that ‘they’ say. How’s about if I take a crack at a few of these, to give you the real scoop on a few matters. I think it’ll be eye-opening. Maybe even mind-expanding. Hell, your heinie might even dilate. This stuff is that shocking. You never know.
Okay, I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Let’s just do this thing, all right? And if none of this makes any sense, try reading the original post. I won’t guarantee that it’ll make any damned sense, but it’s worth a shot. Now for round two, based on your suggestions:
‘They’ Say: ‘A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.’
Charlie Sez: No. A bird in the hand will shit down your sleeve. I don’t know what that’s worth to you, but I’ll take the two birds with the bush, myself. I mean, um, the birds in the bush. Right. It’s not two birds with bush; it’s two birds in the bush. Still, it’s better than canary crap creeping down your arm. My answer stands.
‘They’ Say: ‘Two’s company. Three’s a crowd.’
Charlie Sez: No. Two’s company, all right. But three’s a setup for a really, really hot Penthouse Letters story. I think this time, I’ll be a pizza boy. Oh, momma.
‘They’ Say: ‘Bored people are boring.’
Charlie Sez: No. Not true. Anyone can be interesting, if you just learn to see their inner beauty, and the special, unique qualities that set them apart. Of course, if that doesn’t work, you can always get them liquored up, slap tutus on ’em, and take ’em to the office with you. That’ll get you a lot of things — quite possibly including ‘fired’, ‘arrested’, and ‘pregnant’ — but none of them will be ‘bored’. I’ll guarantee you that.
‘They’ Say: ‘People who hide nothing have nothing to hide.’
Charlie Sez: No. People who hide nothing are nudists. And they’re usually the people who should be hiding things, for the sake of unscrambled eyeballs everywhere. Wrap a towel around that pasty flab, would you? That’s just not right.
‘They’ Say: ‘It’s not the heat; it’s the humidity.’
Charlie Sez: No. It’s the heat. Heat with no humidity is just… I dunno, fire, probably. But heat with humidity is… well, 9 1/2 Weeks, as far as I can tell. Now that’s hot, folks. *Rrrrrrawwwrr!*
‘They’ Say: ‘Why put off for tomorrow what you can do today?’
Charlie Sez: No. Some things are simply made to be done later. Like paying taxes, for instance, or taking out the garbage, or getting off the crank. Or, in my case, getting on the crank. I’ve just never been able to clear out my schedule long enough to give it a shot. Oh, well.
‘They’ Say: ‘It takes one to know one.’
Charlie Sez: No. I know plenty of jackasses, and I’m certainly not — what? Oh, shaddup. Fine. I know dogs, too, and… oh. Right. Smartasses? No? Cynics? Misfits? Hmmm. Well, I know my wife — how’s that? I’m a lot of things, but I ain’t no wife. Not this side of prison, anyway. That counts, right?
‘They’ Say: ‘Never burn your bridges.’
Charlie Sez: No. There’s nothing wrong with burning your bridges. You just have to be sure to douse them with gasoline first, then light ’em hot, burn ’em bright, and hide the crusty, charred remains when you’re done. In other words, if you’re gonna piss somebody off, make damned sure you have a good time doing it. Get it on tape, if you can. The look on the person’s face is always priceless.
‘They’ Say: ‘Nothing’s sure but death and taxes.’
Charlie Sez: No. It’s also absolutely certain that I — and every other guy I know, or will ever know — will never win the lottery, last three rounds with Tyson, look good in a pair of Speedos, voluntarily ask for directions, or truly understand why women go to bathrooms in groups. And all that’s on a good day. Just imagine all the shit we can’t manage on Mondays. Ugh.
Hey, that was fun! A couple more rounds of dishing the truth like this, and ‘they’ are gonna be out of business for good. Maybe we can do it all again sometime. You gotta keep an eye on those ‘they’ people, you know. Don’t ever let up.Permalink | No Comments