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Archive for March 20th, 2009

Room Can Only Take One Smart Ass

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You know the old cliché that women don’t get along with each other because they’re always in competition and comparison wars? What’s that, it’s not a cliché? Oh… Well, men have their own version of this. It’s called the “Smart Ass” limit and that number is strictly, without tolerance, set to one.

 

What is a smart ass? Good question. A smart ass is someone who likes to use sharp humor, violent sarcasm, extra dry wit and extremely quick thinking to bring humor and a sense of being uncomfortable into a mood or situation. Often times the smart ass will actually use things being said as his weapons as he masterfully crafts a metaphorical mirror in to which he makes his victims stare. Nothing is safe around the smart ass, for the smart ass will eagerly, (and many times without thinking) venture into forbidden or touchy areas of conversation. A smart ass doesn’t want to hurt people, but on the other hand doesn’t think about if he is hurting people. A smart ass is untamed, wild and thoughtless. There are no filters on a smart ass. If it enters the head, it’s already on its way out the mouth. A smart ass can quickly start piercing shields if he’s not an excellent marksman. It doesn’t take long for things to go from bad to worse if a smart ass takes a wrong turn somewhere.

 

As mentioned in the opening, much like a women who gets angry when another girl shows up wearing “her outfit”, a smart ass doesn’t like it when another smart ass shows up on the scene. There’s really only room for one smart ass in any situation at any given time. You’ve never heard anyone say, “We need another couple of smart asses in here.” Although they’re funny you can only take a smart ass in reasonable quantities. Smart asses don’t like competition. Since the whole routine of being a smart ass is alienating, it’s really all they have, so they don’t want some chump trying to move in on their action. It’s like that line from the book, ‘Smart Asses and You’ by Dr. Hutton C. Barkelucktumdill, where David, the main character and smart ass, says, “I’m a smart ass OK? It’s all I got. I gave up drinking and drugs and smoking and gambling, but I can’t give up this. It’s intertwined into my soul. It’d be like trying to remove my skeleton. I’d rather you just kill me or quit talking about it.”

 

A smart ass is good to have around for a fix of dark humor, but you can’t get close to a smart ass. Nothing is real and everything’s material for the next joke. You can’t trust a smart ass. Not because they might be unfaithful or undermining, but because you never know what to believe. A smart ass can be anything or anyone if the mood suits him. He’s not afraid of what the opinion is or where it might lead. A smart ass is only in it for the short haul, for the now.

 

So the next time you see a smart ass, go over to them and whisper in their ear, “It’s alright, I won’t try to change you., but you will die alone.” Then walk away and leave the room. Believe me, it’s pretty powerful stuff.

 

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

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Written by Ramblin' Rooster

March 20, 2009 at 11:00 pm

Mysterious Highway Skid Marks

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Driving down the highway can be tiring. It doesn’t make sense, since you’re not really doing anything except sitting, but regardless, long trips seem to take it out of you. I’ve always had a theory that the reason for this is speed. You may not be moving your limbs using your muscles, but your body is traveling at the rate of speed equal to the car’s speed. Now unless you have been bitten by a radioactive, moon cricket and have been blessed with super powers, you’re probably not use to traveling at 60 to 80 miles an hour unassisted.

 

The other thing about traveling is that it’s rather boring or certainly can be. That’s why there’s all those great, yet mind boggling, desperate games like Alphabet, I-Spy, 20 Questions and countless others that were created by those that would rather spend 87 miles looking for an “X” than just riding in a car. If you happen to be “of the unfortunate nature” and find yourself traveling alone, it’s almost impossible not to fall inside you’re brain.

 

Before you know it, you’ve relived every fight, conversation, missed opportunity and pleasurable experience you’ve ever had. Once that’s over you begin to slip into the zombie-esque state of staring at things with blank face and empty mind.

 

You start to notice roadkill. Out of the corner of your eye you see a hawk take flight. Across the field you observe an abandon, near reclaimed by the earth farm house. You think to yourself, “I wonder who lived there. I bet they’re all dead.” Passing an out of business gas station you tease yourself about running out of gas, but you still check your gauge. Twice. It’s then that you see the first one.

 

It’s just a slight stain of black, somewhat faded, but noticeable to your now awaken road eyes. A few more miles whiz by and you pick up on two solid burn marks. As you continue down the road, more and more skid marks run across the road. This way and that way, to and fro, on the road, off the road, into oncoming traffic, and down into the ditch. What the hell happened on this road? What kind of carnage took place? Have you found the lost shooting location of Mad Max/Road Warrior? Nah couldn’t be. That was filmed in Australia. Holy smokes, did I drive all the way to Australia?

 

“Two days ago I saw a truck that could haul that tanker. You wanna get outta here? You talk to me.”

 

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

March 20, 2009 at 3:54 am