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Lunatic Ravings!
When I was a wee lad, somehow my name found itself on the Greenpeace mailing list. Back then this wasn't a bad thing because the only thing they wanted to do was save the dolphins and whales. I would receive all sorts of nifty-neato Greenpeace stickers every few months and I would take them and run down the street to show my friend Billy what I had just received. Billy thought the stamps were as nifty-neato as I did and he would take a couple and stick them to his brother's nostrils while he slept so he could only breathe thru his mouth which caused him to drool like someone who had just received some electroshock therapy. Billy's mom found out one day how we were getting out jollies and I was forbidden from coming over to visit for a month. When my mom found out, she banned me for life from going down to Billy's, but not because of what we were doing with the sticker. No, my mom banned me from Billy because he was 10 years old and he was still playing with superhero dolls which my mom found quite "odd". Well, damn her to hell because now Billy is a multi-millionaire from collecting all those dolls while I have to pick up cans from along the side of the road in order to pay for my next meal. That just proves my point about how much parents absolutely suck. Take my word for it, yours do too. Now, I don't want you to think that I am going to sing of Narcissism here but that little boy in Iraq who lost both his arms during a bomb attack might just be the luckiest wee fellow on the face of the earth. For 30 years we have waited for something like this. In the 70's we were teased with the possibility but now we have the technology to make him better. That's right, we can now have our bionic man (or boy in this case). He could be the 1,000,000 Dinar Boy, but that's only worth about $7.50 American so that probably wouldn't impress too many people. Even 1,000,000 Dollar Boy wouldn't cause people to think he's anything special. So, no matter what the cost of the bionic arms are, he should be called something like The Thirty Trillion Dollar boy because it has such a fancy ring to it. People love things, especially humans, with fancy names. What in the fuck have I been talking about here? I don't know. Maybe the real reason that Jerome is in Iraq is because he's the only one with the knowledge on how to duct tape bionic arms onto a little boy. It's true kiddies. You drop acid a decade or two ago and it can come back and haunt you at anytime. I must go now and perform the forbidden dance. COMING NEXT: Why Bob hates me. Email Stephen! snide_remarks@theweirdcrap.com
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