Mightier Than The Pen

Making The World A Bitter Place

Archive for September 2011

The Boston Red Sox: Charlie Brown to a Football-Wielding Lucy

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Since I’ve failed miserably at generating a new post today, I’ll simply refer y’all to an ever-more-relevant post from August 6, back when the Boston Red Sox were sitting pretty atop the American League East. I’m going to sleep. Wake me up when the World Series is over.

Written by Thag

September 27, 2011 at 10:53 pm

At Our School, Sarcastic Answers Get You Extra Credit

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What They Taught in High School

What They Should Have Taught

The Monroe Doctrine Why Latin American Countries Are Right to Hate the U.S.
How to Dissect a Fetal Pig How to Subsist on the Most Hideous Things When You End Up Homeless and Penniless
Physical Education Avoiding the Draft by Failing the Physical
The Periodic Table What Not to Say to a Girl When She Gets Her Period
Romeo and Juliet Fox in Socks
How to Avoid Getting STDs How to Treat STDs
Expository Writing Exposé Writing
Preparation for the SAT Preparation for Community College
The Treaty of Guadeloupe Hidalgo Why Latin American Countries Have Even More Good Reasons to Hate the U.S.
WWI and WWII – Germans Bad, Russians Good After WWII, All of a Sudden Russians Bad, Germans Good – WTF?
The Articles of the U.S. Constitution and Its Amendments The Art of Burger Flipping
For Any Right Triangle, a²+b²=c² Judging Distances When Flipping Burgers
French Chinese
Driver’s Education Daddy Gets Really, Really Angry If You Take the Car without His Permission and Get into an Accident
C6H12O6 + 6O2 → 6CO2 + 6H2O C6H12O6 → 2CH3CH2OH + 2CO2
Organic Chemistry How to Talk to Girls without Letting Your Dorkiness Ruin Everything. Dork.

Written by Thag

September 27, 2011 at 12:26 am

Your Kid’s Ability to Display No Ability Whatsoever

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My Kid Can:

And Yet:

Get undressed by himself

Takes all evening to get ready for a shower

Take out all the necessary implements for cereal and milk

Cannot take the used implements to the sink upon finishing

Find exactly the CD he wants from the hundreds in the cabinet

Remains unable to return a single CD to its proper place

Do complex arithmetic in his head

Show no awareness whatsoever how little time is left until the school bus comes

Spot a piece of candy or chocolate from across the house

Stares helplessly at a basket of clean laundry, unable to locate the item he seeks, right there on the top

Run like the wind to chase after a ball

Moves more sluggishly than an actual slug on the way to bed

Schlep all of his books to school every day despite needing only a few

Pleads weakness when it comes to putting all his dirty clothes in the hamper

Remember the lyrics to songs heard only twice

Needs daily reminders not to throw in the house

Tell the same knock-knock joke a billion times

Constantly neglects to say “please” and “thank you”

Devote hours to fashioning a homemade birthday card

Lies helpless in the face of a few minutes’ homework

Shovel pizza into his gullet at breakneck speed

Will not tolerate pasta with tomato sauce and cheese

Stacks blocks carefully and intricately

Knocks over cups full of water at the table

Hates being yelled at

Communicates primarily by yelling

Claims to value his possessions

Actively encourages his two-year-old brother to mistreat his possessions

Read way above his grade level

Thinks Dad’s blog is work

Written by Thag

September 25, 2011 at 1:44 am

Even More Indications of Clueless Loser Blogging

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1. You find, upon checking your blog’s visitor stats, that exactly zero people have visited your blog today. This means:
(a) Everyone else’s internet connection is down.
(b) The manifest merit of your most recent work is far too much for the web to handle.
(c) Your enemies have conspired to deprive you of recognition for your creative efforts.
(d) The enemies of mankind have conspired to deprive the world of your apocalyptically awesome writing.

2. Bots that visit your site in order to leave a false footprint, gambling that you will click on the link they show, are evidence of:
(a) Artificial intelligence, since the bots clearly recognize  talent when they sense it.
(b) Users wary of being directly blown away by your Earth-shattering coolness, who therefore resort to scripts to visit your blog discreetly.
(c) A big break lurking just around the corner.
(d)  Your rivals scouting for valuable inside information on just how you pull it off, you avatar of amazing.

3. The proper internal reaction to comments criticizing your writing involves:
(a) Disbelief that anyone could misread your clear, plain-spoken sentences so wrongly.
(b) Shock that anyone who disagrees with your position has the intelligence to negotiate the comment submission routine.
(c) Security in the knowledge that anyone who fails to arrive at the same conclusion as you must have even worse visitor stats, or they wouldn’t be fishing for visitors to their site by commenting elsewhere, and no, that is NOT projection at ALL.
(d) Dismissal of the comment as evidence that WordPress’s spam filter is malfunctioning.

4. So-called friends who casually mention that they haven’t had a chance recently to look at your blog:
(a) Were sent by the Devil to test your control over your Fist of Death.
(b) Were sent by your enemies to lure you into getting arrested, thereby stopping you, at least temporarily, from continuing to favor the world with your crucial musings.
(c) Lack a soul.
(d) Deserve to be scratched up and dumped into the shark pool at Sea World.

5.  The online world’s preference for interactive content:
(a) Just means that hoi polloi will naturally stay away from your blog, which is great, because you only want the smart, discerning people to become your fan base.
(b) Cannot last in the face of your patently superior text-only content.
(c) Is merely a tool for someone with abilities in creating interactive content to discover your incredible blog and feel compelled to bring it to the masses.
(d) Proves your argument, maintained all along, that your adherence to a rigorous blogging schedule, and your ability to produce material of reliable quantity, demonstrates the inherent merit of your efforts, since nothing of lesser value could have lasted this long.

Written by Thag

September 23, 2011 at 4:33 pm

The Assumptions Your Preschooler Makes

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Trips to the bathroom require an announcement.

Different foodstuffs on the same plate must be eaten in a particular order, and one must finish all of one food before starting another.

Different foodstuffs on the same plate must not touch one another.

Yelling “No!” is enough to undo objectionable circumstances beyond anyone’s control, such as the unavailability of a given friend for a play date.

Napkins are for decoration; shirts, for digital hygiene.

Food tastes better from the right color plate.

A parent placing an object out of a child’s reach merely indicates that the child must try harder to reach it, not that there might be some constructive purpose in the child now being unable to reach it.

The best way to show one’s objection to a lack of parental attention is to destroy property or bother siblings.

A sibling leaving the dinner table upon finishing his food means dinner has finished, and everyone else may leave the table, too.

Cups are filled completely regardless of the size of the cup, the amount the drinker can drink, and the mess that will inevitably result from handling the full cup. Corollary: cereal bowls are filled to the brim with corn flakes and milk, irrespective of the quantities involved.

Once a dish of food has been placed in front of another person, it becomes contaminated.

Walls and floors make ideal surfaces upon which to test the usability of markers, crayons and pencils.

The consequences of mistreating a younger sibling can be avoided by running into the next room and hiding one’s face.

Requesting permission is merely a ritual; in essence, I have the right to partake of everything anyone else has.

The answers to questions last at most a few hours; questions must be posed again after that time.

The claim of tiredness is sufficient grounds to be released from any unwanted duties.

The best place to look for something is nowhere near where it was last seen.

Written by Thag

September 22, 2011 at 3:26 pm

To Ride this School Bus, You Must Be at Least this Rude

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1. No fighting on the bus unless you can pretend the driver doesn’t see you.

2. Seat belts are for wusses.

3. It does not count as fighting if it starts out as a game.

4. The No Fighting rule only applies to children who have an actual seat. Children forced to stand in the aisle as a result of crowding may fight to their hearts’ content.

5. Any personal property left on the bus will be given to the driver’s children.

6. Any movies shown during the bus ride must feature just enough inappropriate images, language or violence to make the parents uncomfortable, but not quite enough to get them outraged.

7. A child who misses the bus through no fault of his own will be subjected to a driver-administered tongue-lashing the following day.

8. Children may attack, deface and destroy one another’s personal property as much as they wish, but the moment an object is thrown out the window, the driver reserves the right to refuse further transportation to that child for the duration of the academic year.

9. The decibel level in the bus shall remain higher than 90 at all times when children are on board. This level may be sustained through yelling, the radio, DVDs or CDs.

10. Music played by the driver must be of the cruddy or ethnic pop variety. No Beatles, Billy Joel or The Who shall be played.

11. All chants and songs in which children on the bus engage shall feature at least one (1) objectionable lyric.

12. The children must be at the designated pickup point at least five minutes before the scheduled time; the driver reserves the right to be as late as he damn well pleases, and there’s nothing you can do about it, so nyah, nyah.

Written by Thag

September 21, 2011 at 3:58 pm

Mazel Tov. Today You Are a Mockery

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Dear friends, family, and honored guests:

That’s how Rabbi Stein wanted me to begin this bar mitzva speech. Out of deference to him I kept the opening line, but the rest, well, you’ll understand in a minute.

Let’s face it: today is not about my becoming a man. I’m this little pipsqueak whose voice hasn’t even started to change. My parents’ friends routinely describe me as “cute,” and they don’t mean it in a Ricky Martin kind of way. I’m not even old enough for Ricky Martin to mean anything to me, for crying out loud. How can anyone expect someone who hasn’t even hit the pimply-faced stage to answer to manhood? It’s time to stop pretending that’s what this is about.

It’s also not about celebrating some milestone. You want a milestone? On Thursday I managed to restrain myself from running away and playing Grand Theft Auto when I was supposed to be preparing the reading in the synagogue. First time that’s ever happened. But don’t attribute that to any onset of maturity – attribute it to Dad threatening to ground me for a month and take away my iPhone if I didn’t buckle down and practice.

Alternatively, you might think this celebration has something to do with my ability to read a text in ancient Hebrew and recite a few benedictions, as if I didn’t simply get a recording and memorize it. A budding star, the ladies all cooed. A real ear for tune and rhythm and trope, the men declared. A real load of garbage, I say. A parrot could do the same. Would you celebrate a parrot with a lavish party, maybe force him to wear an ill-fitting suit and a tie too big for his neck? Wait, don’t answer that. I’m not sure I want to know.

So let’s give the honest answer to why we’re all here today. We’re all here because Mom and Dad want to show off, or at least make the social statement that they can throw a shindig like the next assimilated couple. Keeping up with the Schwartzes – no offense, Mr. and Mrs. Schwartz; I like you a lot – is the great temple-centered pastime. We bar mitzva boys are just pieces in this glorified board game our parents and grandparents feel compelled to play.

I asked Rabbi Stein how bar mitzvas were celebrated when he turned thirteen. He said they weren’t. You turned thirteen, you assumed some new responsibilities and went on with your life. If you were lucky, your parents could arrange a bit of herring and schnapps after services one morning. But hey, since the goyim always knew how to party, why couldn’t we Jews learn to do the same? After all, trying to blend in with the surrounding societies has worked so well over the last twenty centuries or so. They love us by now, right? Show the neighbors you can hire some dancing waitresses and they’ll forget all about your reputation as a Christ-killer, or a blood-in-the-matza murderer, or an imperialist Zionist, or whatever the epithet du jour happens to be this century.

It’s pretty convenient that you celebrate this occasion, or whatever it is, when your kid is as likely as not to be years away from facial hair of any significant quantity. He’s not really a teenager yet, so you can get him to cooperate with your hedonistic, consumerist bash without a major risk of adolescent rebellion upsetting your big plans. Mom? Dad? How’s that working out for you?

Honored guests, if you want this event to be about maturity, I suggest you so-called grown-ups exhibit some. I want to be proud of my heritage, but the only message I get from you is that my heritage is only important if it doesn’t interfere with a business opportunity, or trips to Aruba, or social climbing. Somehow I get the feeling that’s not the message in the ancient Hebrew text you all say I – and I quote every last one of you – “read so beautifully.” I shouldn’t even know the word “travesty” at my age. So how about “bitter irony.” Will that do?

Mazel tov. You’re now ready to become grown-ups.


Written by Thag

September 20, 2011 at 9:40 pm

My Life, Starring that Guy from that Movie

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Period of Autobiography

Who I Think Should Play the Title Role


Who Should Really Play the Title Role

Infancy An Olson twin Winston Churchill
Toddler Bam-Bam Dino
Preschooler Jonathan Lipnicki  Warwick Davis
Ages 5-10 Gary Coleman Steve Urkel
Ages 11-14 A young Matthew Broderick A young Koko the gorilla
High school Daniel Radcliffe Rick Moranis
College Billy Baldwin Michael Richards
Grad school Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise William Pitt the Elder in 1778
Newlywed Harrison Ford as Han Solo Jabba the Hutt as himself
New parent Tom Selleck in Three Men and a Baby Carol Burnett in Annie
Parent of a growing family Tom Hanks in Turner & Hooch Hooch in Turner & Hooch
Parent of teenagers The Brady Bunch parents The Munsters parents
Marrying off children Kiefer Sutherland Donald Sutherland
Approaching retirement Alec Baldwin Adam Sandler
Newly Retired Anthony Hopkins as Zorro Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter
Golden years Sean Connery Yogi Berra
Old age Jack Lalanne Yoda
On deathbed Patrick Stewart Joe Pesci
At funeral Morgan Freeman Jon Belushi
Ghost who comes back to haunt the living Alec Guinness Chris Farley

Written by Thag

September 19, 2011 at 4:10 pm

Seek, and Ye Shall Find What Google’s Algorithm Deems Worthy

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Forget Google Desktop™. I need Google Kitchen™. Or Google House™.

With the sophistication of Google’s algorithm, not only could I find the implements and consumables that I need amid the clutter, the software would even offer suggestions for alternatives if the object of my desire (no offense intended, Mrs. Thag) is nowhere to be found. Forgive me for subjecting you to a purely text-based experience of this idea, but when it comes to the skills required to reproduce the Google Search user interface, mine are slightly inferior to those of the late Senator Edward Kennedy (D-Massachusetts).

Some people do not need such a tool. My mother-in-law, for example, alphabetizes her spice rack. That’s not unreasonable at all; but she also – and I say this with all the love and respect that her most loyal son-in-law can possibly offer – does the same thing with the individual spice containers sitting in her cupboard.I cannot pretend to such mad organization skillz. I must harness technology if I am to run a kitchen even half as efficient as hers.

But this technology possesses potential far greater than mere location of needed household objects. We all appreciate the benefits of putting “the other mitten” into the search bar and having Google show us the dumpster into which it was accidentally tossed two days before, which of course has since been emptied several times. The true greatness of this software lies in its ability to suggest alternatives when our search terms leave much to be desired. If you search for “clean sucks,” Google will instead display the results for “clean socks,” which would suit most users better.

So take that one step further and combine it with an existing Google feature: a default censor for search results – not in the typical sense of filtering our adult content, but in a much more practical sense of helping you, for example, maintain a dietary regimen. Input “ice cream” and the results will show nothing – and Google will ask whether you meant “lowfat yogurt.” “Stacked corned beef on rye” will produce results with links to the location of sprouts and goat cheese on Wasa crackers.

Which is not to say that you couldn’t work adult-oriented content into the equation. “My son’s hidden porn stash” might no longer, in this digital age, direct you to underneath your teenager’s mattress, but it still might point you to the offending directories in whatever computer gadget he abuses for the purpose of accessing and storing the material. You could then have the classic, awkward conversation about respecting women and whatever that never gets anywhere with any male under the age of twenty-three.

So I’d love to take this idea further, but Google, ironically, is no help. I shouldn’t be surprised. They’ve never helped me find the Any key, either.

Written by Thag

September 18, 2011 at 7:20 pm

At the Tone, the Time Will Be Ten Minutes Later than You Thought

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Time Scheduled Activity Actual Activity
6:30 AM Wake up; get children dressed for school Misread watch as 5:30 instead of 6:30
7:00 AM Serve breakfast; pack lunches Wake up with a start; panic; haphazardly pack children into clothes and yell lungs out in comically futile attempt to get seven-year-old ready on time
7:15 AM Send 2 older children to catch school bus Shove older children out of the house bodily, each one holding a handful of corn flakes and a half-open schoolbag with messily prepared peanut butter sandwiches made in five seconds flat
7:30 AM Clear away remaining breakfast dishes; pack up 2 younger children for day care/preschool Discover how far two-year-old can fling unwanted corn flakes and milk when left alone for 0.00003 seconds by otherwise occupied parent
7:50 AM Drop off four-year-old at preschool Finally find the missing shoe that kept four-year-old from being ready to leave
8:00 AM Drop off two-year-old at day care Arrive at four-year-old’s preschool; realize she forgot her stuff at home
8:10 AM Return home; eat leisurely breakfast, peruse news headlines Practically throw two-year-old into caregiver’s arms and run back home to fetch four-year-old’s forgotten stuff
8:30 AM Begin workday from home office Return home sweaty, exhausted and frustrated at the day’s inauspicious beginning
9:00 AM Scheduled visit from washing machine technician Wolf down breakfast of corn flakes and the remaining tablespoon of milk from the bottom of the carton
9:50 AM Send plumber or technician on his merry way; put in load of laundry Finish surfing web for now; make half-hearted attempt to work
10:00 AM Resume work Wonder whether  washing machine technician was supposed to come today
10:45 AM Chat with spouse online; plan dinner Finally remember that technician was supposed to come between 9 and 10
11:30 AM Take short break to move laundry to dryer Call technician to find out what seems to be the problem; discover he thought he was supposed to come tomorrow
12:30 PM Lunch break Finish yelling at technician; lunch break
1:00 PM Resume work Remember that little maintenance project that’s been waiting around
2:00 PM Pick up little ones from day care/preschool Finally hit a groove in work
2:10 PM Arrive home from pickup Receive call from preschool/daycare personnel investigating possibility of pickup
2:15 PM Snack time for four-year-old; nap time for two-year-old Sprint to preschool, daycare; arrive home sweaty, exhausted and frustrated at inauspicious continuation of day
2:25 PM Settle four-year-old in quiet activity; resume work Fail at getting two-year-old down for a nap; fail to please four-year-old with selection of snack
3:45 PM Greet older children upon their arrival home from school; two-year-old wakes up; serve snacks Explode in anger as older 2 children arrive home at maximum volume and deposit their school bags smack dab in the middle of the front hallway
4:00 PM Older children begin homework Take refuge in office as arrival of older children somehow distracts younger children from the fact that they are miserable and they wish to blame that on a parent
4:02 PM Spouse calls; finalized dinner details Bench-clearing brawl among children
4:30 PM Spouse arrives home; homework finished; dinner preparation begins Spouse arrives home, inquires why older children have not begun homework
5:00 PM Relaxed review of day’s events with each member of family Discover there’s nothing in the house with which to make a reasonable dinner
5:15 PM Serve dinner Fend off children’s clamoring for Pizza Hut delivery; threaten no pizza ever again if whining continues
5:45 PM Begin clearing dinner Call Pizza Hut
6:00 PM Run bath for younger children Play referee; discover two-year-old and four-year-old have fallen asleep
6:20 PM Remove children from bathtub; get them ready for bedtime Receive pizza delivery; participate in sickening display of gluttony
6:30 PM Help seven-year-old shower Rush seven-year-old into shower for token bit of hurried cleaning
6:40 PM Notify ten-year-old of shower availability; choose book for reading to other three children Try to calm and feed now-awake and intensely grumpy toddler and preschooler while arguing heatedly with ten-year-old whether it’s his turn to shower
7:00 PM Kiss smaller children goodnight; remind ten-year-old to brush and floss on his way to bed Remind ten-year-old to shower
7:10 PM Finish cleanup from dinner Remind ten-year-old to shower
7:30 PM Plan next day with spouse; prepare lunches Inform ten-year-old that showering usually features actual water and soap
8:00 PM Resume work Give faces and arms of toddler and preschooler a cursory wipe; shove said children in bed and pray they stay there
8:45 PM Take break to joke with spouse Send various children back to bed for the seventh time
9:30 PM Finish work; watch old M*A*S*H episode with spouse Confirm that ten-year-old has indeed showered
10:00 PM Get ready for bed Start blog post
10:30 PM Sweet, sweet slumber Restart blog post; repeat as necessary; in desperation, dash off something perfunctory of marginal wittiness that’s still somehow ten times better than most of the crap out there

Written by Thag

September 17, 2011 at 10:06 pm

Should Have Read the Actual Rental Contract

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________________________, lessor
________________________, lessee
signed on _____________
for the property at ____________________________________________________________

1. Lessor and lessee must figure out which of the  terms refers to whom before proceeding with any of this.

2. Once the respective identities of the lessor and lessee are understood by both parties, they may enter into awkward negotiations.

3. If lessor and lessee are friends, the lessor must be the one to broach the subject of payment terms.

4. The monthly rent shall be $ ______, payable in cash, check, PayPal transfer, babysitting hours, child care hours, or janitorial hours with emphasis on dish washing.

5. Lessor guarantees that his children will not be actively encouraged to invade the room provided to the lessee.

6. Lessee absolved lessor of liability for damage to lessee property as a result of children nevertheless barging into the room and manhandling everything in sight.

7. Lessor will ensure availability of toilet paper, soap and towels in sufficient quantities.

8. Lessee will keep toilet paper and soap the hell out of the reach of lessor’s children.

9. Lessee is welcome at any family meals at no additional charge, provided sufficient advance notice is given.

10. Lessee will find adequate solutions to the problem of different children insisting on sitting next to lessee during said meals.

11. This agreement may be terminated by lessor with one months’ notice, or by the lessee upon witnessing the havoc wrought by children of the lessor, havoc that could be neither anticipated, as they seemed like such angels, nor prevented, as who would think a seven-year-old could pick a lock?

Signatures:  Lessor ________________________  Date _______________

Lessee _________________________ Date ____________________

Written by Thag

September 14, 2011 at 9:27 pm

A Fifth (Advice) Column

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Dear Thag:

I am writing a political screed that includes a threat to assassinate the President. Which of the following formulations is preferable?

“If Obama dares to show his face anywhere near Idaho, we Free Earth patriots will be ready to show him the quickest way to Hell.”


“If Obama dare’s to show his face anywhere near Idaho, we Free Earth patriot’s will be ready to show him the quickest way to hell.”

Anonymous in the Northwest

Dear Animus:

You’re best off going with the second option – not because it’s correct, but because you stand less of a risk of being hunted down by the authorities if the authorities read your screed and dismiss it as the ravings of an ignoramus.



Dear Thag:

Can you please explain the difference between “just between you and me” and “just between you and I”?


Dear Concussed:

Use “just between you and me” when you wish to inform the person to whom you speak that the information you are about to divulge must not be shared any further. Use “just between you and I” when you wish to inform the person to whom you speak that you are too stupid to know the difference between “I” and “me” in a sentence.



Dear Thag:

When I want to come off as more sophisticated than I actually am, I pepper my speech with all sorts of Latin phrases. What would be a good Latin phrase that conveys exactly what makes me superior to the people around me?


Dear Pompous:

The phrase you are looking for is “merdum equus”. The best way to use it is to find a way to casually drop the following sentences into your conversations: “I am naturally well endowed with merdum equus.”



Dear Thag:

I want to make sure everything is just right when I propose to my girlfriend. When I get down on one knee on the Bedford-Stuyvesant subway platform and present her with the ostentatiously expensive diamond ring at two a.m. – our special time – I want it to come out perfect. What words should I use?


Dear Dumbo:

The words are one thing; the venue is an entirely different story. You might want to explore the possibility of putting yourself in a vulnerable position in a more suitable place at that hour, such as Morningside Park. Alternatively, since you’ve demonstrated with the ring that money is no object, a cruise to Gaza City. I understand getting in there can be tough if you don’t know the right people. I recommend brute force against the Israeli naval commando bouncers as a way to demonstrate your determination and love.

Once you’ve gone through with arranging matters, the proper words are any that can be said without teeth.



Dear Thag:

My mother always tells me, “‘Aint’ ain’t in the dictionary.” But I just looked in a bunch of dictionaries, and there it is. She told me to ask if the dictionaries are wrong, or if she is right?


Dear Beaten:

You’ve written to the right person. I have vast experience in both language and parenting, and I can tell you without hesitation that your mother is right.

Most dictionaries are “descriptive,” which means they simply record what people are saying, not what real English is supposed to look or sound like. So the dictionary might tell you that “cock” means something vulgar, but in fact all it means is a rooster – just that some vulgar people started misusing the word. Feel free to bandy it about, knowing you’re using the word properly, as in, “My father keeps his cock hidden and takes it out when he wants to surprise my mother.”

The same idea applies to “fagot” (bundle of sticks) and “tit” (a kind of bird).


Objection! Your Honor, the Defendant Is Wiping Boogers on the Table

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To: Ms. Sally Seppuku
From: P. Lionel  Throckmorton, Esq.

Subject: Your behavior towards my client in preschool

Dear Ms. Seppuku:

I have been retained as attorney by Ms. Melanie Saggypants, your classmate at the Elmer J. Figlicker Preschool. My client wishes to inform you that unless you cease and desist from a series of unwarranted and undesired behaviors, she will have no choice but to terminate unilaterally your relationship as “best friends.” The list of behaviors includes, but is not limited to, the following:

1. Saving a seat at snack time for that poopyhead Arthur.

2. Hogging the violet (purple) Crayola™ crayon.

3. Refusing to allow my client to cut into the line for recess ahead of you, insisting instead that she cut in back of you.

4. Being a know-it-all about which colors mix together to make orange and pink.

5. Always getting to the red-haired doll first, which everyone knows is the prettiest, and not letting anyone else hold it no matter how many times they promise to be your best friend.

6. Holding the scissors with your left hand. It’s just wrong. Only weirdos use lefty scissors.

7. Bringing gross sandwiches for lunch, such as pesto or mozzarella cheese, or anything that is not peanut butter and jelly.

8. Mixing the different colors of Play Doh together.

9. Making a big deal about being one of the only kids in the class who knows how to color inside the lines.

10. Other corroded behaviors that my client reserves the right to specify at a later date.

Should these behaviors not cease entirely by the thirtieth of this month, my client will be compelled to withdraw the “best friends” status that has heretofore characterized the relationship. Such a step would have consequences including, but not limited to, the following:

1. No more spontaneous availability for play dates.

2. No more sharing of junky snacks.

3. No more sharing of shoes, socks and clothes.

4. Finding other classmates with whom to sing nonsense songs over and over and over and over again until a grown-up yells at us.

My client and I anticipate your cooperation in this matter.


P. Lionel Throckmorton, Esq.

Written by Thag

September 12, 2011 at 8:28 pm

We’ll Misbehave, But Remember the Consequences Are Still Your Fault

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Family Trip Shenanigans Rotation and Timetable


Child Assigned


9:00-9:05 Two-year-old Lose shoe on way to car
9:05-9:10 Four-year-old Loudly, repeatedly insist on sitting in an unavailable seat
9:10-9:15 Seven-year-old Horse around instead of buckling up
9:15-9:20 Ten-year-old Blame parents for delayed departure
9:20-9:30 Two-year-old Pull four-year-old’s hair; pinch
9:30-9:45 Four-year-old Take two-year-old’s sippy cup; hit
9:45-10:00 Seven-year-old Find most inconvenient moment to express need to pee
10:00-10:20 Ten-year-old Pretend to dislike two-year-old’s taking his hat; keep encouraging the theft
10:20-10:40 Two-year-old Throw sippy cup at four-year old
10:40-11:00 Four-year-old Kick and push back of Mommy’s seat
11:00-11:05 Seven-year-old Request snacks known to be off-limits
11:05-11:30 Ten-year-old Make series of unreasonable demands; complain he never gets to do what he wants
11:30-11:45 Two-year-old Messy, leaky poop
11:45-12:00 Four-year-old Complain of residual poop odor
12:00-12:15 Seven-year-old Complain of motion sickness
12:15-12:30 Ten-year-old Annoy seven-year-old with “he’s on my side”
12:30-1:15 All Refuse to eat peanut butter sandwiches; insist on potato chips for lunch
1:15-2:00 All Series of spontaneous, ill-timed bathroom requests
2:00-2:45 Two-year-old Wake from nap in foulest possible mood
2:45-3:15 Four-year-old Refuse to visit destination if not carried by Daddy
3:15-4:00 Seven-year-old Keep wandering off without informing anyone
4:00-4:30 Ten-year-old Pester parents to let him use the new digital camera
4:30-4:45 Two-year-old Step in something awful; get it on Daddy’s clothes
4:45-5:15 Four-year-old Complain of hunger; refuse anything but junk food
5:15-5:45 Seven-year-old Whine about lack of plans for a barbecue
5:45-6:30 Ten-year-old Hold forth on why last year’s trip was so much better
6:30-7:00 Two-year-old Smear dinner in four-year-old’s hair
7:00-7:05 Four-year-old Protest plans to leave for home
7:05-7:10 Seven-year-old Insist on leaving right away
7:10-7:15 Ten-year-old Complain he didn’t get a chance to do anything fun
7:15-7:20 Two-year-old Initiate tiredness-related tantrum
7:20-7:25 Four-year-old Insist on leaving right away
7:25-7:30 Seven-year-old Protest plans to leave for home
7:30-7:35 Ten-year-old Pretend to help strapping the little ones in while actually doing everything possible to hinder, as if the extra few minutes in the parking lot actually means we got to spend more time at this attraction
7:35-7:45 Two-year-old Commence post-departure tantrum crescendo
7:45-8:00 Four-year-old Backup tantrum vocals
8:00-8:15 Seven-year-old Bathroom request
8:15-8:30 Ten-year-old Aver that it’s the parents’ fault the family didn’t have the best time in the world.

Written by Thag

September 11, 2011 at 10:58 pm

For Sale: Stuff You Already Have

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Seriously, Pennzoil? Seriously?

I weep for our society if people feel compelled to buy actual rags.

In case your internet browser is showing signs of passive aggression, as mine did all morning, the link should lead you to a deal on a bag of rags for cleaning up spills. You know, the kind of worn-out pieces of clothing that absolutely everyone in the world has on hand, not counting the laughably rich. And if you’re laughably rich, you’re not buying rags to clean your own spills. You have the servants do the spilling for you anyway.

The scary thing is that the Pennzoil people are confident enough in the market to produce the stuff. I guess the only measure of consolation available lies in the fact that the site to which I linked specializes in retail inventory that didn’t sell as expected. Which only makes you wonder about the team at the Pennzoil corporation who had this brilliant idea.

Strategist 1: We’re running out of profit possibilities through technical innovation. How can we still generate profit?

Strategist 2: How about selling stuff no one would think of going out to buy, and pretending it’s the most natural, useful thing in the world to do?

Strategist 1: Hmm. Tell me more. You mean like White Castle hamburgers?

Strategist 2: Eww. Don’t be gross. I mean stuff people tend to have around the house anyway, such as leftover shoeboxes.

Strategist 1: Ahh, I see. Let’s give that some thought. How about dryer lint? Cat hairballs?

Strategist 2: Let’s brainstorm and make a list, then narrow it down to the most likely items. I’m kinda partial to unmatched socks.

So what’s next, Pennzoil? Flat tires? Used condoms? I’m not sure I want to know.

Written by Thag

September 9, 2011 at 4:28 pm

Ask Thag, and You’re Asking for It.

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It’s time for another edition of Ask Thag, the only information and advice column ever to earn the Nasty, Brutish and Short Award for Achievements in Alienation.

Dear Thag:

Why does water go down the drain in a swirly pattern?

Jake, age 7, Chattanooga, TN

Dear Jake:

It goes down that way because your drain is not clogged. Judging from the plumbing in my house, drains are supposed to be clogged, and proper disposal of liquid waste is accomplished by dumping the offending material in the neighbor’s yard when she’s not looking. Ideally, you should choose a neighbor who gets upset at you for doing normal things, such as retrieving a ball that happens to land on her lawn, but any neighbor will do.

If your drains continue to operate in the unusual swirly fashion, stuff as much hair and wadded toilet paper in them as possible.


Dear Thag:

Whenever I ask my husband to do something, he says he will, but either doesn’t do it or waits a long time before doing it, and I feel disregarded. How can I make sure he realizes how much it bothers me without seeming petty, controlling or ignorant of his needs?

Frustrated in Coral Gables

Dear Frustrated:

I don’t give this advice to everyone, so I beseech readers not to interpret it as appropriate for their relationships; it’s only for you, Frustrated.

I happen to know your husband. Sandy hair, about five-ten, medium build, fondness for cheesesteak? Name’s Gordon, goes by Gordo? Yeah, we’ve met. Trust me: this guy needs to be hit over the head with it or he’ll never get it. The first dozen or so times you ask him to do something, such as putting away laundry, literally hit him over the head with a raw chicken (not frozen, please), as you admonish him to take care of the task immediately.

As for the rest of you out there wondering whether anything like this would work in your marriages, please do not try this. I know Gordo. If your husband happens to be named Gordo and you have a similar difficulty in your relationship but you are not the Frustrated who sought my input here, you can go right ahead, but I hereby divest myself of all responsibility.


Dear Thag:

Whenever I put my car in reverse to leave my garage, I can’t get it to proceed until I jam down the accelerator, which sometimes means speeding out into the street at dangerous speeds. What does this mean?

Mystified in Portland

Dear Mystified:

It means it’s time for you to find Rover a better place to sleep.


Dear Thag:

What wine goes best with anchovy pizza? My wife insists on port, while I favor sherry. Who is right?


Dear Thirsty:

I’m happy you asked, because it gives me a chance to use my new keyboard. See, I just puked all over the old one and it no longer works. Thank you.


Dear Thag:

Where do babies come from?

Sadie, age 5, Augusta

Dear Sadie:

Before I give you a direct answer, I must call out your parents for punting on this one. When you asked them, they decided to foist the burden onto me instead of assuming their parental responsibility. For some reason, on this sensitive point, which demands discretion and trust, they wish to cede control to a complete stranger with a reputation for pranks and malice toward all.

Sadie, babies come from several possible places depending on what kind of babies they are. White Christian babies come from God and are delivered by storks. Black and Arab babies are formed from the droppings of apes and camels, and East Asian babies – the kind with slanty eyes – grow in rice paddies. Hispanic babies might come from God, but no one knows because they’re too busy killing each other over soccer or drugs, or because they’re too busy sneaking into the United States to take away jobs from real people. Jewish babies aren’t really babies at all – they’re just miniature capitalists designed to pounce on your money when your guard is down.


Dear Thag:

I take issue with your answer to Squeezed in Scranton, who feels sandwiched between caring for an ailing husband and aging parents. You recommended she make an appointment with a financial adviser, then rob him blind in order to finance caregivers for her family members and give herself a well-deserved vacation in the Bahamas.

I am a financial adviser, and take offense at the implication that we all have enough money for such things. I struggle to make ends meet, as opposed to some of my clients, who don’t have to think twice about installing another Jacuzzi in their Gulfstreams.

PO’d in Peoria

Dear PO’d:

Thank you for your input. It is only when we see clearly through the haze of facts and perceive the important elements that we are in a position to help others.

Written by Thag

September 8, 2011 at 2:38 pm

Final Exam in Blogging Like a Clueless Loser, Part Three

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Part one here. Part Two here.

Section III – Essay

You must choose three of the following questions to discuss in this section.

1. Write a 500-word post of Harry Potter fan fiction that does not make the grader of your test puke or facepalm.

2. Explain the differences, if any, between commenting on someone else’s blog because you simply wish to attract click-throughs to your own blog and commenting on someone else’s blog because you are a bot programmed to leave false traces of your visit to attract click-throughs to your client’s site.

3. It is said that an infinite number of monkeys typing on an infinite number of keyboards will eventually produce the works of Shakespeare; thanks to the internet, we know this is not true. Discuss. But expecteth us not to read it, thou villainous chimp.

4. Which is more disturbing, a blog dedicated to LOLcats, or one dedicated to Bible-thumping? Why? Support your argument with uploaded photos.

5. In 500 words or less, explain how the earnest pontifications of yet another ignoramus can accomplish anything but generate more boredom and despair in the world, and why, therefore, the only appropriate action on your part, from this point forward, involves never blogging again.

Written by Thag

September 7, 2011 at 8:54 am

Final Exam in Blogging Like a Clueless Loser, Part Two

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Part One here.

Section II – Reading Comprehension

Nicely written, but you haven’t taken into account alternative points of view. With practice you can get better, but I can already see your potential.

1. The above selection:

(a) Is clearly a spam comment.
(b) Sounds like it was written by a high school junior.
(c) Will fool only about 00000.1% of bloggers into thinking it is genuine and worthy of clicking on to visit the comment-submitting bot’s client site.
(d) Despite its ineffectiveness on bloggers with actual brains, will nevertheless take in a sufficient number of idiots to make the practitioners of link spam continue to engage in the practice.
(e) Is still more grammatically and rhetorically sound than the vast majority of other blogs out there.

2. Upon receiving notification that the above selection awaits your moderation, you:

(a) Silently hope that the perpetrator of this waste of your time and hope loses most of his limbs in a painful industrial accident.
(b) Realize that such a person would have no marketable skills after such an accident, and be driven to pursue a career doing more of the same.
(c) Try to come up with a worthwhile use of such people, and arrive only at the conclusion that they could be used as ballast.
(d) Consider that employing them as ballast would take decent jobs away from far worthier inanimate objects.
(e) Wish you could meet the composer of the drivel and pound some humanity into him/her using a two-by-four.

Oh, nice. There are some other good blog posts about this, here (link) and here: (link). I hope you like it.

3. The person who submitted this comment:

(a) Is just as much an attention whore as you.
(b) Is a bigger attention whore than you.
(c) Exemplifies why all other bloggers should just shut up and let you have your say.
(d) Is engaging in traffic-baiting in distastefully forward ways to which you would never resort. At least not today.
(e) Is actually you engaging in even more distasteful attempts to generate additional clicks.


4. Your actual response to the above comment will involve words of gratitude. Your internal response, however, is:

(a) “Of course.”
(b) “Thanks, but I knew that.
(c) “Well, duh.”
(d) “Who,  brilliant little me?”
(e) “Oh, that was helpful. If it’s so excellent, why aren’t you sharing it with all your friends and family on Facebook, you inconsiderate little twit? What am I, just some abstract generator of material provided at no charge for your amusement? Don’t you think you could take the extra three seconds to afford me some well-deserved attention for this ‘excellent’ work? Bastard.”

5. Despite your bitter reaction to the comment, you:

(a) Hope to generate more fatuous comments from this anonymous reader, since at least it amounts to a bit of attention.
(b) Notice a growing sense of gratitude and appreciation for the perfunctory attention, offset by a growing sense of annoyance with your supposed friends and family who claim they love your blog but never actually do anything to help it.
(c) Reciprocate by commenting on the blog of the submitter in such a way that your smug sense of superiority is only barely masked.
(d) Read and reread the comment, reliving the moment you discovered you got someone’s attention in a positive way for even just a few seconds.
(e) Fantasize about the submitter actually being someone powerful and influential, and who is this close to giving you your big break. Moron.

Written by Thag

September 6, 2011 at 10:42 pm

Your Final Exam in Blogging Like a Clueless Loser, Part One

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Please read all exam instructions before proceeding.

This Advanced Placement exam in Blogging Like a Clueless Loser is designed to test your ability to write and maintain a web log, or blog. You are not required to use the entire two hours, but it is recommended that you use all the time you feel necessary to ensure you have given proper answers. Leftover time may be used to review your exam before you submit it. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES MAY YOU STOP TAKING THE EXAM TO CHECK YOUR VISITOR STATS.

Section I – Multiple Choice

1. Your blog attracts an average of twelve users per day. Because you want more traffic, you:

(a) Mope and curse the manifest unfairness of the universe.
(b) Complain to anyone who will listen.
(c) Go through some perfunctory motions such as commenting on maybe two other blogs before deciding the exercise is a waste of time, and goddamn it, your talent should merit recognition without you having to call attention to it like some cheap salesman.
(d) Experience a bizarre giddiness every time the visitor stats edge up above thirty.
(e) All of the above.

2. Your significant other objects to the amount of time you spend holed up with your computer ostensibly blogging. You:

(a) Impatiently explain that you view your blog as a career, and would appreciate that he or she accord it the same weight as one that currently pays.
(b) Further elaborate that you’re only doing this for both of you, so that one day, when the big breakthrough comes, you’ll both be better off and have fewer financial worries.
(c) Strongly imply that any interference or disruption of your creative process will have an adverse effect on your writing and therefore, of course, on your relationship.
(d) Promise to try to use your time more efficiently; fail because you just don’t operate that way.
(e) All of the above.

3. One of your posts has been shared on Facebook. This causes you to:

(a) Think the post might be going viral.
(b) Wonder why it’s taking so long for the post to go viral.
(c) Console yourself with the thought that it might take a little while for the post to go viral.
(d) Silently curse the anonymous referred visitors from Facebook for not sharing further and granting you the acclaim you so clearly deserve.
(e) Loudly curse the not-necessarily-anonymous referred visitors from Facebook for not sharing further and granting you the acclaim you so clearly deserve.

4. You check your visitor statistics:

(a) Every half hour.
(b) Every six minutes.
(c) Every forty-five seconds.
(d) After every paragraph of the article you’re reading in a different browser tab.
(e) Only as often as you blink.

5. Bots often leave false referral records on your site to get you to click on the referral link and generate traffic for that site. The operators of those bots should be:

(a) Sliced about the face and neck with razor blades, then dropped in a vat of lemon juice.
(b) Forced to spend time with your least favorite neighbors and relatives.
(c) Locked in a closet with speakers that play nothing but Barry Manilow songs over and over and over again.
(d) Stricken with month-long dysentery and access only to chili pepper toilet paper.
(e) All of the above.

6. Your idea of an ideal Saturday night involves:

(a) Knocking off a quick blog post that generates oodles of traffic and comments that confirm your high opinion of your work.
(b) Time away from the computer for investing in non-keyboard-mediated relationships.
(c) Wait, what was that last choice?
(d) Are you out of your mind?
(e) OK, whatever, dude.

7. Breakfast:

(a) Can wait until after I check my stats again.
(b) Is eaten at the computer, with as few drips as possible getting onto the keyboard.
(c) Wait, did I have breakfast? I don’t remember – I was too busy blogging.
(d) Oh, right, I had a bowl of cornflakes.
(e) No, that can’t be right; we ran out of those yesterday, and I’ve been at the computer instead of going shopping. Weird.

8. The best fodder for a blog post is:

(a) Exaggerated interactions from real life.
(b) Exaggerated political screeds.
(c) Exaggerated satirical opinion pieces.
(d) Exaggerated recollections from childhood.
(e) Exaggerated confidence in exaggeration to provide good fodder for a blog post.

9. If forced by circumstances not to blog for several days, you would:

(a) Furtively check for opportunities to get online.
(b) Constantly check for opportunities to get online.
(c) Desperately check for opportunities to get online.
(d) Hysterically check for opportunities to get online.
(e) Violently check for opportunities to get online.

10. After regaining access to your blog following an extended absence, you will discover:

(a) That no one missed you.
(b) That you are moved to explain your absence, even though no one missed you.
(c) That you refuse to believe no one missed you.
(d) That you will try to avoid future absences if only to avoid confronting again the fact that while you were gone, no one missed you.
(e) A certain creative freedom in the absence of expectations from people who would have missed you, coupled with the soul-sucking knowledge that while you were gone, no one missed you.

Written by Thag

September 5, 2011 at 10:04 pm

My Husband Is Important, So I Must Be Right

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Excuse me, mister, but that discipline you’re trying to accomplish with your son there? That’s abuse. I know it, because I follow a particular parenting guru whose words I do not question, and who says any yelling is abuse. Ask me about it sometime. I know you will, because that kind of intervention in the family affairs of a total stranger is a surefire way to get them to listen and open up.

Look, I’m not interested in whatever the dear boy did to prompt your reaction. I just know that whenever I see a parent get upset at a child, I see abuse. I resort straight to that term, because otherwise, who would listen? Consider what I accomplished in this case: you were yelling at your child, I saw and heard you yelling, I called it abuse, and you stopped yelling at your child and started yelling at me instead – chalk one up for me. Whatever ends up happening with your kids, mister, I don’t know, but at least at that one moment I made you think.

Granted, what I made you think was that I’m a presumptuous, judgmental, condescending buttinsky, but that’s what I do – I get people to relate to me and my view of the world, by whatever means necessary. Sometimes, as in your case, I pulled the I’m-the-wife-of-clergyman card, as if being married to someone who got an academic degree in religious literature somehow grants me greater insight into parenting that you, who has raised four kids. And when you retorted with your own religious/academic qualifications, I dismissed that with a wave of the hand and said you certainly weren’t behaving like a man with pastoral concerns. Before you could answer I got into a cab and sped away. I got in the last word! I win!

I know what happened afterwards: because I can size up a situation in an instant and determine right and wrong without benefit of knowing what led to it, and that ability came through clearly, you, once you calmed down, realized how right I was – remember I called you arrogant, which of course was exactly the right tone to take – and you embarked on an effort to reform your parenting style, maybe go to a family therapist – or, better yet, find the guru I invoked and follow him, even though when I said his name I was facing the other direction and walking quickly away from you, because I’m such an important and busy woman by virtue of my husband’s spiritual qualifications. When you finally perceived how right I was, you became grateful to the godsend who swooped out of nowhere, drew your attention to your biggest problem, and disappeared. You’re welcome.

And the next time you see a parent get angry, rush to yell at them. It’s the right thing to do. Because I married a clergyman.

Written by Thag

September 4, 2011 at 8:45 am

Why, Pray Tell, Did the Washington Post Neglect the Missing German Cow?

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Qaddafi is on the run. The UN is about to issue a report with a rare vindication of an Israeli position. The American Northeast is recovering from serious hurricane damage and flooding. The Republican presidential race is heating up. Syria faces mounting marginalization even from fellow Arab and Muslim states. And the Associated Press is reporting that a runaway cow has been captured in Germany.

If you’re like me, you welcome this refreshing bit of real journalism in a sea of irresponsible, sensationalist tripe masquerading as news reporting. There’s only so much milking of the Libya story that a person can handle, after all. Who cares that Russia now recognizes the rebel leadership as the legitimate representative of the Libyan people? THERE WAS A COW ON THE LOOSE IN GERMANY! And yet only the AP had the guts to pursue this story and bring it to the attention of the world.

Where, I ask you, was Reuters, which is always ready to pounce on the slightest blip in the Israeli-Palestinian dynamic and give us the lowdown (“it was Israel’s fault”), but for some mysterious reason completely dropped the ball on this crucial issue? What happened to the vaunted CNN operation, so skilled otherwise at getting to the bottom of international stories (“it was Israel’s fault”)? Why, even FOX News let this story pass without comment, not even a trenchant remark from their roster of respected pundits (“it was Obama’s fault”).

Of course if you’re not like me, you might have had a different reaction. You’re not like me, after all, which would explain the success of supermarket tabloids, “word find” puzzle books and the large audience for reality TV, just to give a few examples. Perhaps the Associated Press, long a bastion of highbrow reporting, seeks to expand its appeal to the National Enquirer demographic. I can see the plan: start slow, with some bovine interest, perhaps a bit of bizarre kitten episodes, then push into alien zombie Elvis territory.

It would still be more believable than FARS, the semi-official news agency of Iran. And the sanctuary from which the cow escaped didn’t even have to issue a fatwa to get it back. Take THAT, MahMOOd Ahmadinijad.

Written by Thag

September 1, 2011 at 9:50 pm

The Chocolate Mutiny

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Dear Brain,

Stomach here. I know you’re the one in charge of managing input, and I’m just here to take what you decide to have Mouth ingest. But for a day and a half now, I haven’t received even a morsel of chocolate cake, and not a bite of Pringles. Something has changed around here, and I’m not comfortable with it.

I’m suffering here, you know, and you have not adequately explained the sudden change in intake policy. I’ve gotten used to a steady supply of chocolate ice cream, brownies, cookies and similarly nourishing items over the last few decades, and to abruptly alter this regimen to exclude them is to cause me undue stress. For the first few waking hours without so much as a frosted cupcake I restrained myself, but the situation has become so desperate that I cannot but unleash this plea for help: GET ME CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES OR A CHEESE DANISH BEFORE I GO INSANE.

I assure you I am not alone in these sentiments. Intestines – Small and Large – have also noted the absence of adequately fatty and greasy goodness, and are equally troubled, if not more so, by this phenomenon. Our collective digestive powers were developed and nurtured for more than mere carrot sticks and celery. Even the yogurt you have grudgingly let Mouth take in is of the low fat variety, with such pitiful quantities of granola mixed in that it might as well not be there in the first place.

And while we’re on the subject, could you please stop allowing the Hands to put chewing gum in Mouth? Mouth’s chewing activity makes it awfully moist down here when there’s nothing to digest, and that just makes my system go haywire. It takes all the concentration I can muster to keep my acid glands from overproducing. We don’t want a repeat of three years ago, when that bacterial infection nearly caused an ulcer. That wasn’t a happy time for any of us, I need not remind you.

But really, the gut punch here is this new deprivation regimen you seem to have embarked on. I have no doubt you are confident in the benefits of consuming only foods you deem “healthful” or have the magic “antioxidants” or whatever other faddish terminology du jour you come across. But let’s be honest, Brain: nothing comes close to the bliss, the utter pleasure this entire body gets from a decadently thick slab of Thag’s chocolate cake with mocha frosting. You know what I mean: the two layers of amazingly moist yet fluffy cake with just the right blend of cocoa, coffee and sweetness. That’s right, swallow that saliva – I know you’re listening when you react like that.

Come on, Brain. You know how good it makes you feel. Just ease over to the fridge and slice a chunk of that heavenly cake. Mmm-hmm, baby. You know it. Feel that chocolate Nirvana taste…let it slide down Throat and into my waiting tissue. You like that, don’t you? Of course you do. What kind of fool were you to think of abstaining from such experiences?

You want more, don’t you ? Of course you do; there’s the entire rest of the cake just sitting there, beckoning.

Oh, by the way, if Large Intestine complains about this later, it was all your fault.

Your buddy,


Written by Thag

September 1, 2011 at 4:22 pm