If you are stressed out at the thought of falling off the toilet during a bowl movement, or slipping on the glass eye your grandpa leaves lying around, you are not alone. Studies I just made up show that 7 out of 10 people who suffer serious injury after falling, wish they hadn't done so. But minor slips, trips and tumbles are an inescapable consequence of human existence, right? Wrong.
A great way to get in touch with your subconscious mind and understand yourself more deeply is by keeping a dream journal. If you're anything like me you have difficulty remembering which hole to put your food in, never mind what dreams you had the night before. Keeping a journal takes those once fleeting images and allows you to preserve them in a useless book no one wants to read.
What do these five things have in common:
- a Pilipino bee keeper
- zero medical training
- slight retardation
- no social skills
- a fondness for pudding
Answer: they all perfectly describe the holistic practitioner I get my medical advice from.
Think back to when you were just a child. Perhaps you grew up wanting to be a world-class chimney sweep, or gynecologist to the stars. Perhaps you dreamt of changing the world, or starting your own business, or becoming so rich you could live in an underwater kingdom and ride a dolphin to work. So what happened to all those dreams?
The same thing that always happens.
My good friend, Vernon is a professional Rump-Reader from Des Conneries, France. Yes, you read that correctly, a Rump-Reader. In case you weren't aware (and why would you be) Butt-Reading or Rumpology, is the art of reading dimples, folds, lines, and crevices on the buttocks in order to catch a glimpse of the owners past, present, and future. It's kind of like reading palms only with a greater chance of getting shit under your nails.
When I was six years old I fractured my pinky toe after mistaking my brothers head for a soccer ball. My Mom, being a great believer in home remedies, attempted to alleviate my pain by tying a thin piece of copper wire tightly around the base of my toe. She said the properties in the copper would not only act as a healing agent but would relieve the pain I was currently feeling. Three days later the doctor amputated that toe due to arterial blockage caused by the constricted blood flow. I realize this sounds like poor parenting on her part, but in my Mom's defense she was pretty drunk at the time.
I always wanted to be an astronaut, but I don't much like the idea of eating my dinner from a tube or pooping in a vacuum. Not to mention, I'm far too lazy to put in the amount of work needed to be chosen for such an endeavor. People as lazy as I rarely do anything that forces us to be upright longer than it takes to pee, never mind putting in the time it takes to become an astronaut. Because of this I have always known that my dream of being blasted into space to search for alien face suckers, will forever be beyond my grasp....or so I once believed.
Are you of lesser moral character? Do you think you can see the future? Would you prefer to remain in your underwear for the majority of the day? Well look no further, we have the perfect opportunity for you.
Just last week I was downtown cutting the heads off of parking meters (I'm a big fan of Cool Hand Luke) when I was approached by a man on the street, along with his camera crew, who asked if he could show me a few magic tricks and film my reaction for an upcoming special on the Ukraine's highest rated network, 'Pierogi T.V.'
I don't have the ability to speak in tongues but if I were to write this blog using the "language" of tongues, it would probably look something like this; Bals ahdt ysifghte k thorus moo cow, blah blah sortor yamaka shama-lama ding dong, potypoo oreo hastaruirs doizlk lamaka broslotel uftlo al yrhetsfd shave and a hair cut, two bits.
Being a collector of flamingo-related items, seems like an amusing and sensible way to spend your money, but it's not without it's drawbacks. As any serious hoarder can tell you, finding the space to proudly display your collection around the home can become difficult as you accumulate more and more of whatever it is you have chosen to waste your life on.
At last I figured out what it is I want to do with my life. After all these years I've finally discovered the career I've always been looking for. The crazy thing is, I didn't even know it existed until about a month ago.
I recently came across an advertisement that asked its readers three questions followed by a brief statement;
Automatic writing is a safe and entertaining way to produce written words from the spiritual realm, without consciously writing. It is achieved by clearing the mind of all thought (including the notion automatic writing works), while you scribble on a piece of paper. Whatever squiggles, scratches, or scrawls, produced while in this state, are said to be communique from the spiritual realm.
I have a very unique talent only my mom thinks is impressive. Like Mozart with music, or Bill Clinton with adultery, it is an innate talent which I have possessed since early adolescence. I've been doing it for years and believe I am one of the best there is. What I'm referring to is the ancient art of Foot Reading, or "Solestry," to those of us in the business.
The idea that our soul or spirit reincarnates is as old as my grandmothers bladder issues. For thousands of years people have held deep rooted beliefs that the life they are currently experiencing is nothing more than another link in an everlasting chain of existence.
(1/20 - 2/18)
-As Mercury fondles the balls of Pluto, it becomes obvious that secrets may surface. Burn all records of the money you embezzled, tell your boyfriend your wife is suspicious, and let the kids know who their real dad is, because very soon it will all come crashing down. You have had an exciting few years of midget orgies and rectal piercings, but reality has caught up with you, and it's time to make a change.
I've been having problems with my back ever since I started sleeping in the bathtub. The reasons for doing this are slightly personal and I don't feel like going into them right now, lets just say it has something to do with a bladder control issue and leave it at that. Anyway, since I've been spending my nights curled, uncomfortably on cold fiberglass, I've begun to develop an irritating twitch in my back that causes my right leg to unintentionally kick at random moments throughout the day.
My friend, Finnegan Fizgig, claimed to be clairvoyant, which means he could read minds and see into the future. I'd love to ask him why it was he didn't use his powers of precognition to see the garbage truck that backed over him, but sadly, he's dead because of it.
I've been locked in my bedroom for almost three weeks now, in order to focus all my attention and energy on a single task; to bend an ordinary soup spoon with my mind. For the doubters out there, this isn't just some crazy idea I came up with while snorting Vagisil, I actually saw someone on TV do it, when I was just a kid.
I once saw a show where a woman suffering from cancer chose to forgo the established medical treatments for something known as "Urine Therapy." Throughout the day she would pee on the tumor that developed between her toes, hoping this practice would send her cancer running away in disgust.
It turns out that little whim of hers was pointless, considering she died pretty quickly, anyway. But on the bright side it did gave me a good idea. I too would try this intriguing treatment on some of the odd growths and obscure molds that littered my body.
The sunken island of Atlantis has been found!
Now, I know what you are thinking and the answer is "Yes", people do say I look like an autistic Groucho Marx. Further more, I know that you are also thinking Atlantis has not been found because you would have heard about it on CNN or The Joe Rogan Experience. However, I am here to tell you that Atlantis has indeed been found, but not in the Atlantic ocean where Plato originally indicated. Instead, Atlantis is located in Petersburg, Kentucky, at the bottom of my swimming pool.
As if I didn't have enough to worry about, people all over the country are bursting into flames as a result of Spontaneous Human Combustion. Everywhere I look I find a story about a pile of ash next to a foot, or a puddle of fat with a head floating in it. Some experts say it's nothing more than alcohol consumption and proximity to sources of ignition while other suggest an alien death ray. Personally, I vote for the 'death ray', but I'm an idiot.
My friend Tracy says there is a vortex to another dimension in the office space she rents at a strip mall downtown. She knows this because the psychic next door told her there was one located on the northern most wall of her storage closet. Supposedly, it was being used by dimension hopping beings to travel from one plane of existence to another.
For several years I have been debating my friend Danny over weather or not crop circles were made by hyper intelligent space aliens with nothing better to do, or drunken earthlings using a piece of wood and some rope. Danny argued that crop circles were an alien's version of spray painting its name across a wall to let everyone know it had been there, while I believed Danny needed to stop drinking turpentine.