A couple of neat things

Check this out. In all serious. Man grows roots out of his extremities. The pictures and footage are unbelievable. Apparently, a cure is in the works and a cause has been figured out so the future looks bright but I have NEVER seen anything like this. Great footage. Check it out.

->CLICK HERE<-

Here is a great little piece by Joss Whedon about the Writer's Guild of America site.

->CLICK HERE<-

and here for your viewing displeasure, is an EXTREMELY shocking and graphic workplace safety advertisment. I'm telling you, it'll scare the pants off of you. I leave it in your hands. It's very well done and proves the point very well. I nearly lost my hands and nearly cut my face open in two separate and completely avoidable construction accidents. I worked in a kitchen for a while and I have scars from that as well. Workplace safety is really, really important and this one hits the mark.

Apologies if anyone has nightmares. Also, apologies if this is already in heavy rotation on television or something. I have no television channels so I'm a little behind that way. Consider yourself warned.

Watch on YouTube

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Lectures

In some ways, a lot of the public assemblies I remember having when I was in high school play back like some sort of freak show.

I remember he came to talk to us about workplace safety in our high school. I was in twelfth year. He’d been a scientist in a solvent factory. He was there to tell us that accidents in the workplace were as commonplace as they were preventable.

We’d had someone come to talk to us about drunk driving earlier in the year. He’d lost his license and his wife and all that. I remember my heart going out to what he’d been through but it didn’t really affect me.

There was a positivity seminar from a woman I wouldn’t have trusted to borrow fifty cents off me. She had bright shining teeth offsetting her golf tan and a tight emerald-green dress. She wore pearls. She told us we could do anything. She closed with a musical number. Rumour has it that she slept with two of the students.

We even had a religious guy come through town to tell us how ‘hip’ G-O-D was. His attempts at banter and our ‘teenage slang’ were more hilarious to us than the clown that came through six months earlier to tell us about sexual abuse using balloon animals and magic tricks.

A clown, I might mention, that was busted for sexual abuse two years later. The cycle continues.

People with broken lives attempting to serve as signposts for us came to talk. They told us of their evil ways in some sort of twisted form of confession that, in all honesty, served no purpose other than amusement for us. Even though a third of us would unintentionally end up on unemployment later on in life, all of us knew at that moment that we’d never sink so low. We were idiots.

The hypocrisy was being shown to us. The education that took place in that auditorium was happening on a second level that was completely unintended. Have fun while you’re young, they were shouting at us, because it just gets worse and worse afterwards. Your morals will smear like chalk drawings on a rain-soaked sidewalk. Behold the ravages of age.

The only man I actually enjoyed was the solvent factory guy. I remember he came to talk to us about workplace safety. I was in twelfth year. He was there to tell us that accidents in the workplace were as commonplace as they were preventable. He’d fallen into a vat of hot glue five years ago and was on his twentieth skin graft/plastic surgery operation now

For one thing, he’d unintentionally huffed so much glue as part of his job that he was permanently high. The other part was that .He made Freddy Kreuger look like a success story. His hands and legs were artificial. His head poked out of his loose-fitting sweatshirt like a turtle’s head in a wrapped in a condom.

It was the laugh, really. He kept losing track of what he was saying and staring at the lights. Then he’d do this high pitched giggle before someone from the audience would have to give him the last sentence he’d said. He’d talk for a little longer before laughing again. He’d tell us stories of the time he’d had sex with a dancer in Vegas before being interrupted and put back on track by the attendant teacher. Apparently his handler had missed the connecting flight so he’d decided to do the show solo.

We got a special opportunity because of that handler's missed flight. For one thing, the guy was having a great time despite his injuries. He wasn’t pious. He had a filthy mouth. He wasn’t bitter. He gleefully told us that he got more pussy now than he ever did before. We laughed our heads off. Every time he got off track was funnier than the last.

After he left, the teachers apologized for the shambles that his talk had become and told us to remember the other people that had talked. They shook their heads in disgust.

Looking back, he was the one guy that actually gave me hope for the future. He was the one person that proved to me that it was still possible to have a good time no matter how bad times got.




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Doolittle revisited

I have the power to talk to animals. It’s annoying as hell.

You want to know what Lassie said to the mom when little Jimmy broke his leg? Lassie said “I’m hungry! I’m hungry!”

Any sort of deduction about where Timmy was on the adult human’s part was pure speculation. Also, it was a TV show.

Animals are dumb. There’s a reason why they don’t rule the world. I wish they’d shut up.

Birdsongs are now filthy diatribes of horniness that assault my ears from four in the morning onwards during the spring. Cats are devious, dogs are puerile, and don’t even get me started on lizards. They’re quiet but when they speak, boy, they swear like sailors.

There’s nothing in the animal kingdom that’s refined but at least the ones in the wild in their natural habitat are generally happier despite the constant chasing and killing. Here in the city, a lot of the street animals break my heart.

When you hear a dying kitten in a dumpster say in plain English “Where’s my mom?” before is gasps its last, it changes your life.

Shouldn’t a super power be something you can turn on and off?

Someone told me that I should become a vet. I volunteered at a pet hospital. Worst idea ever. It was like being in the middle of an emergency ward/concentration camp/death row prison.

It’s where I got this streak of white hair here.

I’m 26 but I look 42.

Earplugs only dampen it. I need it to stop entirely.

I suppose that’s why I’m looking at this screwdriver and I’m standing in front of the bathroom mirror and contemplating doing a little home surgery on my ears. I’ve done this every morning for the last year but I still haven’t worked up the courage.






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