Thursday, January 19, 2006

The Girl Scouts Are Satan's Minions!




The Girl Scouts of America are to blame for this country's weight problem. Here is how I see it:

January 1st every year, while nursing a hopefully well earned and wicked hangover, the majority of people start to itemize the things in their life that they should be able to change for the better. Aside from, stop being such an asshole, a six pack a day should do me just fine, and I will call my (mother, father, sister, brother, etc.) more than once every couple of months, the top of most American's list is to lose weight. The battle of the scales is on just about everyone's mind, whether you have 5 annoying pounds (in which case you just piss me off) or dozens upon dozens to shed. And coming out of the gate, a lot of people are pretty determined to drop those pounds. We sign up for diet plans or gym memberships. We start a routine and have a generally positive outlook on the prospects of looking svelte by summertime, even if that is summer 2007 we are thinking of. In any case there is a positive vibe. It is well known that about by January 30th or 31st things fall to shit for a lot of people. Their motivation is dwindling, they are getting sick of the "diet foods" selection and options. But what is worse than that and has gone unnoticed by me up until today is that there is a major event that happens to coincide with the end of January. Girl Scout Cookies go on sale.

Now if you happen to be blessed with working in a large office environment like myself, you are no doubt inundated, nay, pressured to "support" your co-worker friend's daughter in her quest to sell the most cookies. And god forbid you buy from one person and not the other friend of yours in the office risking at least a years worth of bullshit subtle hostility, yes over some cookies no less. So now, most of us aside from liking them, are at a pressured point that we will purchase probably two boxes in the office. People actually will put them out on their desks as if to say "Here have a cookie, I don't really want to be eating all of these by my self." Yeah, right. But now we have had our taste for blood teased, so to speak.

Within the next few weeks you will not be able to go to the mall, get gas for your car, go to WaWa, or even answer your door without being asked to purchase some Girl Scout Cookies. The first two purchases were strictly out of obligatory support, so people continue to think "I am stronger than the crack and heroin that they hide in these cookies, I am sticking to my diet." Then you run into that little doll-faced girl outside of the WaWa begging you to support her cause as she shivers in 28 degree winter weather. (Here is their selling guide book of do's and don'ts) So you give in once again, but now the cookies are on their way back to the house, where you can't pawn them off on the general population around you. And have you ever in your life thrown out a box of Girl Scout cookies, ever?

It is here when the time released drugs that the Girl Scouts of America baked into their cookies activate. Much like the Naked Gun Movie which found Lt. Frank Drebin under mind control on his way to kill the Queen of England the American public is under their control to purchase and consume their favorite Girl Scout cookies, or even try the new flavors for this year.

Yes, a few weeks ago the country was on a road toward physical fitness which would have health and beauty benfits galore. Now, the evil Girl Scouts have dragged our sorry asses down a treacherous path toward weight gain. I will even go so far as to say that once a person is armed with their own superfluous funds in life that they fall into this trend, the only weight that we gain each year is from Girl Scout Cookies. Each year, a few more boxes, each year a few more pounds.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

There Is No God But George Clinton, and Ice Cube Is His Prophet.


Let me explain. I was boiling down life to the very basics in my head yesterday. I thought about how I would be truly happy in this world if all I had was my beautiful wife. I then went on a mental tangent that let me to seeing us living in a tent somewhere, living camper style, fishing and hunting whatever small mammals I was cunning enough to capture, kill, and cook. But then the simplistic dream evaporated as I remembered how happy my wife was that I went out and picked up some new M.A.C. cosmetics for her the other day. So I figured, all I need is her, and money. That rang a familiar bell from the past, I have heard that somewhere before..."Life ain't nothing but bitches and money" - Ice Cube. Forgiving the fact that modern day slang is usually derogatory towards women this seemed to fit.

I decided to share my daily thought in its simplest form with a very good friend of mine. I stated that Ice Cube is a prophet and attached the quote above. From there I typed that there is no god but ____ and Ice Cube is his prophet. Playing on the Muslim version "There is no god but Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet." To which he quickly replied George Clinton. My buddy said he came to mind quickly, mainly due to his transcendental ways. I then took another mental run, this time on George Clinton (not to exclude the most fantastic P-Funk, but we are on the hunt for a single deity). He once sang "One nation under a groove, gettin' down just for the funk of it." and the metaphoric "Why must I feel like that, why must I chase the cat, nuthin' but the dog in me." And I realized that he not only knows what he wants but also knows that sometimes there is no reason for his wants, and sometimes there are reasons that just are, and are completely out of his control. Yes, these are the words of a wise man. One who I would follow. I always liked George Clinton, but really got into him during the summer of 1994 at Lollapalooza when he was one of the headliners. Shortly after the so-so album, but wonderfully titled, "Hey man - smell my finger."

Once I really meshed the two together, George Clinton and Ice Cube...the funny statement gained a bit of gravity and more humor.

This morning I came back into work and sent my buddy an IM telling him that I had just finished my morning prayer facing West toward Compton. To where the good word came down to Ice Cube from on high (the mother ship), while high, at the Fat Burger on the corner of Crenshaw and Wilshire at two in the morning. Those of you familiar with the best Cube song ever made will appreciate that. We decided that the pilgrimage to the holy site of the Fat Burger should be taken on July 22nd, which is G. Clinton's date of birth. And this will become know as the Hizz-ajj. On said day, on the sacred site we will ingest the holiest of beverages in honor of their greatness and love for us. The Pimmps Cup, a play on a great drink found here. Since a Pimmps Cup is gin based and made with juice, we figured that we were keeping it real enough to not piss off gangstas. That is about as far as we got with it but we will be cultivating this new religion more and more as the days go on. I will be sure to keep you posted.

Until then, Clintonhu Ackbar, my brothers and sisters!