When I was updating this site a few weeks ago, I added categories to help arrange the content. Originally, I came up with twenty categories. As I scanned through my old posts — yes, every single fricking post, because I’m a masochistic bastard — I created thirteen more. Today, I have a total of thirty-two categories.
The arithmetically-inclined among you may notice — the numbers don’t add up. One category is missing. That’s because when I got around to populating one of my original ideas, the ‘How I Feel About…‘ categories, I realized something.
“There’s no way an animal with an ass that fat should have access to that much roughage. This is precisely why they won’t serve Tom Arnold cabbage any more.”
So here’s a third. It’s still not category-worthy — yet! — but dammit, this type of entry is just so random and independent and context-free, it’s perfect for lazy Saturdays when there’s nothing else to write about. Like today.
You call it ‘cop-out’. I call it ‘needlessly adhering to my daily posting rule’. Po-TAY-to. Po-TAH-to. What’s the difference, really? Read up, soldier.
How I Feel About… Hippos
Hippos are GOOD because the full name, Hippopotamus, from the Greek, is also the proper name of the animals’ genus. So if you get off your lazy ass and say the whole word, you’ll sound like a scientist. See that, you just learned a Greek word. Hippos made you smarter already.
Hippos are BAD because all they seem to do is lie their fat asses in the water all day, chomping up plants and making methane bubbles. There’s no way an animal with an ass that fat should have access to that much roughage. This is precisely why they won’t serve Tom Arnold cabbage any more.
Hippos are GOOD because they secrete a natural sunscreen, often called ‘blood sweat’ for its reddish-brown color. So this summer, if you simply rub your naked self all over the nearest hippo’s ‘blood-sweaty’ body, you won’t get burned. Makes Coppertone look like a big puddle of rhino piss, dunnit?
Hippos are BAD because they caused me quite a lot of confusion when I first heard the word hypocricy. I thought it was ‘hippocracy’, which would of course be a society ruled by a benevolent order of civic-minded hippopotami. And that’s not the same as ‘hypocricy’, at all. It’s more like Jenny Craig.
Hippos are GOOD because the ‘Hungry Hungry Hippos‘ game is based on them. When simply watching you eat is enough to keep small children entertained for hours, you must be doing something right. Just ask John Goodman.
Hippos are BAD because no one would ever compare themselves to a hippo in a good way. You can be ‘healthy as a horse’, ‘crafty like a fox’, and have ‘cat-like reflexes’, but personal hippo analogies will never be positive. The possible exception may be ‘hung like a hippo’, but frankly, I don’t have the inclination to follow up on that. If you want to hang around African oases with a scuba mask and a yardstick, that’s your own business.
Hippos are GOOD because groups of hippos are called ‘pods’. That’s the same thing they call groups of whales, and it’s nice to have a single term for groups of all of the large, hairy, overfed mammals. And it’s a lot shorter than the existing term, ‘Nebraskans’.
Hippos are BAD because they can stay submerged for up to a half an hour without surfacing. If there’s a hippo hiding out in my bathtub, dammit, I want to know before I step in. So I always let the water sit for at least forty minutes before taking a bath, just to be safe. Highly inconvenient, to say the least.
Hippos are GOOD because they look funny in tutus. We’d all look a little funny in tutus, but it’s like hippos were made for that shit. People, on the other hand, were not made to pretend to be hippos in tutus. That’s just wrong. And not in the sexy way.
So hippos are GOOD. And UV-protecting pods of hungry hungry tutu-clad hippopotamuses are even BETTER.