What? Sock-thieving gnomes don't exist??

The extent of my disorganization finally hits the fan: the smell of over-ripe paper wafts into my nose as I rummage through receipts too faint to make out to file my year-end expense report ...for 2009. I find a quiz from middle school. No, not really. But not impossible, either.

So you're probably thinking, "Durrr why don't you get more organized?" in a differently-abled voice right now--and I hear you, loud and clear. I'll be the first to admit I need to be more organized.

But organization comes at a terrible cost: worry, stress, and dullness to name just a few of the side effects. While there are certainly exceptions to this rule, organized people are a buzz-murdering, joy-killing gang of meanies. Just remember what we thought of grown-ups when we were kids. Yeah, that's how I think about you, Mr. Organized.

Okay I'm exaggerating. But I have seen that organized people tend to be overwhelmingly driven by stress--stress when they're not organized, pressuring them to order things and order people. This can create extra stress for themselves and everyone around them.

But me worrying about that is akin to a homeless guy worrying about what he's going to do with his million dollars as he's buying the lotto ticket. So I've resolved to become more organized--and I'm taking tips on how! I just hope admittance to the Gang of Organization, does not come at the cost of added stress or being "myself". *winks at heaven, knocks on wood*

And I still refuse to pair socks.

It's time for me to stop driving like a Sith Lord

I'm not doing this because of your gentle reminders of how worthwhile life is and dangerous driving can be. Or because of the guttural screams the G-forces squeeze out of you when I hug the curves on 495. Or because all the post-rush hour drivers on my commute fear and hate the Flying Malibu with the taped up taillight.

No, I'm doing this because I worked from home today and I realized that embracing the hateful, aggressive driver within me every morning was leading me down the path of the Dark Side. Sure, I might end up Sith Lord of The GW Parkway--but then I'd have to use a double-sided lightsaber. And everybody knows double-sided lightsabers are flashy and useless.

Today is the day I embrace the Light Side. I'll just..use the force of my horns to push all the idiots out of the left lane. *contemplative facepalm*

Tea is the root of all half-baked ideas

If greed is the root of all evil and absolute power corrupts absolutely [with evil], then surely the best rulers would be ones who aren't greedy. Indeed, history seems to corroborate this theory.

Now we don't have a drug that "cures" greed, but understanding of human nature is improving at the speed of science. We've already identified genes that are linked to gayness, religion, political alignment. So what if we could reduce greediness with gene therapy or drugs.

Would our politicians swallow the pill? Would this be the start of something beautiful(--like a novel)? Or is greed what makes us fallible, functional, and ultimately human? Thoughts? Rebuttals? Plot ideas?

Cuisine Rant

Dear CHINESE PEOPLE,

I know you're new to this whole meat-cooking thing, but you can't just ground up every cut of meat, pour some salt and MSG on it and stir-fry away. Wel...you CAN, but I can promise you the cow didn't give up her life to be turned into bland crap. I mean if you're going to ruin your health anyway with a hunk of red meat, at least take some tips from people who are experts in ruining their health--the South. I know you already know "stir-fry", but here's some supplementary English for you: broil, grill, smoke, barbecue, rotisserie--marinate, rub, massage. Oh, and stop making "desserts" with bean paste. A dessert, by definition, is at least 50% butter. And that's the secret to a short but delicious life.


Dear AMERICANS,

You are hereby banned from using tofu. Ever. Stop shitting on our thousands of years of experience with it and making those ungodly vegetarian patties. I mean who the fuck are you fooling with tofurkey? Why don't you stop molding it into other shit and learn to cook it by itself--spectacular dishes from home-style tofu to spicy numb tofu (unfortunate translation). And while you're at it, stop boiling all your goddamn vegetables. No wonder your kids don't eat their spinach--because it reminds them of the pile of goop you called peas yesterday. Which reminds them of diarrhea.

Murdered while pondering suicide

When I logged on to Facebook this morning, I discovered several chat histories that I didn't remember having. My first reaction was, Heehee I love reading my drunk IMs...it's like spying on myself!

But then I remembered that I didn't drink last night. And as I read through the chats it became apparent that my account had been hacked by someone who had never heard of a pronoun. (As an aside, one friend was fully convinced that me was robbed at gunpoint in London, but apparently said hacker took pity on this kind and gullible friend and didn't press the issue further). It was an amusing and harmless experience and I joked (to myself) that letting a hacker message random folks was a good way of catching up with people.

How do people fall for this shit? Seriously.

LATER THAT DAY...I discovered a site that plays the soothing sound of rain on loop. Rain always puts me in a thoughtful mood, so I began pondering serious questions. Questions like, with such stubby arms, how would a t-rex get back on its feet after it fell over? Answer: it rolls on its back and does a Bruce Lee kickstand, which happens to cause a magnitude 4 earthquake.

An artist's rendition of how a t-rex kickstand may have looked

Where was I going with this again? Oh yeah. Then I asked myself, what the hell am I doing with my life? Having a stable job is swell, but it's no excuse to stop constraining, motivating, and improving myself. Which was about when I decided to become veritable programming powerhouse-juggernaut, bitch. For all of February, I decided to quit fun things like video games and drinking, and not-very-fun-but-still-mindnumbingly-time-wasting things like anything on MTV and Facebook. And hey, if it sucks, at least it's not a leap year.

The theory behind MTV

As I logged on to Facebook to figure out just how exactly to deactivate an account, I got the messaged "Your account has been disabled" (read: banned from Facebook!!), presumably because they too realized my account was compromised. And now I know how someone who was about to commit suicide would feel if they got murdered. Even though the end result is the same, I still feel wronged--and robbed of the choice that I should have been able to make myself. Oh well, maybe Providence has sent me a message.

In which case, please don't send me a "stop drinking" message--I'll give up that vice without a fight.