UH...

     Do you ever get tired of people who say "Uh" or "Um" in
front of every fucking word?  I sure as hell do.  And the
worst are the stoned out garage band punks that can't even
seem to remember their own names.  Listen to radio call in
contests to see what I mean.
     "Uhhh, hello?"
     "Hello, this is KROC, and you're our 80th caller!"
     "Uh...I am?"
     "Yes you are!  What's your name?"
     "Uuuuuhhhh, Mitch."
     "Mitch?"
     "Um, yeah,"
     "Where ya callin' from Mitch?"
     "Uh, Seattle."
     "Now, you are over eighteen, right?"
     "Huh?"
     "How old are you, Mitch?"
     "Uuuhh, eighteen."
     "You've just won a crappy radio edit CD and a t-shirt!"
     "Uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh, cool."
     "And twelve million dollars!!!"
     "uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh, cool."
     "Stay on the line and I'll tell you how to pick up your
prize."
     "Uuuuhhh, uuummmmm, ok.  Cool."
     Anyone who takes longer to remember their name than it
takes to say it should be executed on the spot.


JUST DO IT NOW, PLEASE!

     A man once came up to me and asked me, "How would you
rather die?  Freezing or fire?"
     "Are those my only options?"
     "Yes."
     "Well, I'll answer your question if you'll answer
mine."
     "Okay."
     "Where would you rather get punched, in the face or the
stomach?"
     For some strange reason, I'm one of those odd people
who wants to die quietly in bed an old man.  I don't delight
in coming up with hideous ways to bump myself off.
     I have heard many people say that they want to die in
threshing machines or combines.  I think it was in a movie
once, and it caught on.  Well, anyone who says that deserves
to die in a threshing machine or combine.
     A lot of guys say that they want to die right after
sex.  Anyone who says that deserves to die in a threshing
machine or combine.


TAGGOTS

     There are simply too many personalized plates on the
road today.  When are those things going to become illegal?
I don't understand what part of the human psyche thinks that
proclaiming your name or favorite profession or passtime is
good.
     The worst plates are the ones with names on them.
Y'know, I really don't give a fuck who you are!  "JILL" or
"VALSCAR."  Yeah, well, no shit it's your car, Val!  See me
not care!  I do know your name and liscence plate now,
though, and a friend at the DMV owes me a favor...
     And what's up with those plates that only mean
something to the owners?  No one cares what they mean, but
you just know that you and any passengers in your car will
lag behind one, trying to figure out what the hell "JN16MIN"
means.
     "Is it a Bible verse?  Like, John's sixteenth letter to
the Minnesotans?"
     "No, I think it's saying `Join the sixteenth minuteman
infantry'."
     "Could it be `John in sixteen minutes'?"
     I really don't care, yet I always feel compelled to
decipher the strange code on people's bumpers.
 I see a lot of plates with one letter or number.  "N."
"6."  If you have such a bad memory that you can't remember
six or so numbers, you shouldn't be allowed on the road.
     These things are all over the place!  "NURSE,"
"VOLLEY," "ACT II," "JOHN," "LILSPAZ," or "RLLNSTNS."
     And I know the cops have to love those challenging
plates like "2BAD4U" or "SPEEDMN."  I know I do.  I was in a
parking lot once and saw a tag that said "TRYIT."  So I did.
I tried it.  And it was fun.


KNOW IT ALL

     Some people want to know everything that the
government's not telling us, whether it affects them
directly or not.  Ya really wanna know everything?  Let's
see.
     Take your parents.  Would you want to know if you had a
long lost brother?  Or if you had been adopted?  Yes?  Read
on.
     Would you want to know if your parents had been married
before?  If you were a bastard?  Yeah?  Keep going.
     You find out your mom was an alcoholic whore who
enjoyed her work, and your dad was her pimp, dealin' crack
on the side.
     You and your twin brother were stolen from the hospital
from wealthy parents, and in order to get you out, your
father had to kill another baby, your real parents, three
doctors, two nurses, and eight orderlies.  Your parents then
set the hospital ablaze and danced around it, singing
incantations to satan.  They then sacrificed your brother to
him, ate him, and fed you the leftovers.  Still want to know
everything?
     When you learn every little detail, you usually find
something you wish you'd never known.
     I really don't want to know whether we've been visited
by aliens until they either save us from ourselves or
anihalate us for the good of the universe.