SLiM: Even in the chocolate box?

Some people out there don’t blog for the simple reason that they won’t be able to find ideas for their posts. Truth is, if you keep yourself aware at all times, you will find that ideas for posts are everywhere. One of the best such cases was my idea for A Chocolate what at the North Pole?

When I was allowed passed the land mines that protect the chocolate box, I took it out in order to give me time to choose.

A dear sibling of mine, whom I shall call The Shmoozer, was standing behind me as I sifted through the chocolate box. She was quite surprised when I picked something up, put it down, picked it back up again, and read the label carefully. I then lifted up my finger triumphantly, (almost piercing The Shmoozer’s nose) and yelled out “blog post!” I then ran upstairs and wrote down the words:

inspiration for bloggers is everywhere (tell how got the ideas for penguin) (“even in the chocolate box?”?)

I wrote my ideas on a piece of paper marked “SLiM Blogger Ideas #3” in my folder called “SLiM Blogger Ideas”.

The lessons to learn from this: If you are organized, jot down your ideas when you get them (if I’m away from home, I write an idea down on a piece of scrap paper and transfer them later), and keep your eyes open, you’ll find blogging is the easiest thing since sliced bread.

Sorry, wrong comparison.

SLiM: Row, Row, Row

Charles Babbage Jr was singing a song. It is a song I have heard being sung hundreds of times over my (short) life. The lyrics of the song go like this:

Row, row, row, your boat, gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.

You, my reader, have probably heard this song thousands of times over your life, but yet, it got me thinking.

I’ve heard plenty of philosophy and uplifting lines. Some of my favorites:

If you feel you’re at the bottom of the world, don’t worry, the world turns around every 24 hours. (I know, scientifically it doesn’t make too much sense. It’s still pretty good, though.) Another one: Before you see the light, you’ve got to deal with the darkness. But none of these quotes are as inspiring as the last line in that nursery rhyme.

…life is but a dream.

Amazing what’s hidden in a little kid’s song, huh?

SLiM: Happy Un-Turkey Day

I am a very patriotic person. I love our country, and especially Thanksgiving, when we talk about what we are thankful for. I also love the food, and that I get out of school early. However, I want to make one thing clear.

There is substantial evidence that the pilgrims never ate turkey on the first thanksgiving. Killing such a timid bird was considered lazy, and the Native Americans would certainly have certainly refused to dine with lazy people. I’m not saying it’s for sure not, I’m saying that it’s highly unlikely, and that’s enough to stop me.

Carry on with your turkey, but I don’t think I want to join you, thank you.

Unless if the pilgrims said that the main dish was wild vulture, and the Indians believed them.

Which is unlikely.

SLiM: The Missing Whale

(Editor's Note: This post mysteriously never made the blog but was written in a timely fashion. It is still fresh and enjoyable, however.)

Now that the holiday seasons are over (I mean officially, now that we have taken down our oh-so-temporary home,) I would like to reflect.

At this time last year, I was reading a fun book, by the name of The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm. This was because of a program which involves smashing people over the head with books (sorry, I couldn’t resist).

The clan, along with some cousins, went on the average, every-chance-we-get-oh-let’s-go-there trips we usually take at this time of year. Some of my reviews from them:

The ol’ ice-skating SLiM is just as good as he ever was (namely, not all that great). It looked much worse next to my cousin, whom we shall call $cooter, who is much better than me though he looks about my age, height, and build.

Ahhh, Jeepers. What can I say? You run in, stomp on a few spiders, and get a little Thing that is supposed to resemble a horse. Presently, you lose the Thing about 25 minutes after receiving it, making your 45 minutes of spider stomping a waste of time. The Yak-Attack was fun, though, and I must’ve gone on the Python Pit 15 times.

The meals were good as always, though the conversations weren’t what I anticipated. It was chilly with rain EVERY DAY every 5 ½ minutes. Still, it wasn’t bitter cold, and there were very few bees (a few came to taste M.M.’s food).

I had a lesson on how to build a hut, if I am stranded in some place with only a few pipes, fishing wire, and bamboo. The result was quite satisfying.


And now, my main rant. Since it rained a lot, the tarp was needed very much. And as I was serving food to the rest of the clan at the table minus Rabbim, I heard Rabbim’s voice from outside, “Beware the Whale!” As I walked out, a massive sploosh of water came down from the tarp, causing my shirt to get water on it. And the water was wet.

Rabbim came in, saw my pathetic state, and said “I told you about the whale!”

Hmm. That’s strange. I didn’t see any 500 ton animal anywhere in the metropolitan area.

The next morning, I came out, only to see the tarp heavy with water and Rabbim trying to get rid of it, muttering some stuff about the troublesome whales.

Soon we came home, and I found M.M. poking the tarp with a stick, saying “we’ve got to get rid of that whale!” I was wondering if our pet whale which we don’t have was on top of our bamboo roof. It seemed odd, but perhaps I missed the memo that our family was getting a very oversized pet.

During the meal, I heard a very upset Rabbim say “I must get rid of that whale, now, once and for all.”

I was really upset now. I asked as politely as I could (which sounded something like a yell) “would you please tell what all this talk about whales is?!”

I got 3 or 4 stunned faces. 3 or 4 wide open mouths. 3 or 4 “you don’t know what a whale is?”

I wanted to say, “Yeah, duh I know what it is. It is a marine mammal, with many different species from the humpback to the blue to the northern right whale. The blue whale’s tongue is about the size of a car, and its heart weighs about as much as an elephant. Whales dine only on plankton. Whales live in many different ocean habitats, but I’ve never heard of a whale that lives on top of a TARP!” I wanted to say it, but wisely didn’t.

The answer: “Oh, a whale refers to a collection of water on top of a tarp.”

I was not amused. A friendly argument then broke out about whose side of the family it comes from.

Next time, I’m just going to get my harpoon gun and go get the whale myself.

SLiM: A Chocolate WHAT at the North Pole?

Sometimes I am a stickler for science, and sometimes I am not. This happened on one of my stickler-for-science days.

In complete privacy, I asked M.M. for something radical. I asked for a chocolate. I was granted permission into the heavily guarded, barbed wired area of the cabinet. (Okay…I’m exaggerating a little.) There I found a large chocolate sculpture of something that was supposed to resemble some sort of bird. On top of the package, there was a statement:

Chill with your north pole pals!

One minor problem for a stickler-for-science, though. Next to that line, there were 3 pictures. There was a polar bear, walrus, and (surprisingly) a penguin.

Where is the problem? I’ll tell you. Penguins live the farthest away from the North Pole that is possible. They live by the South Pole.

I chose my chocolate, and turned my back to the disgrace of knowledge of the average American chocolate eater.

SLiM: Bow Ties

Nowadays, people want to find cheap ways to look elegant. One such way is to get a cheap clip-on bow tie, and simply clip it on, instead of learning how to tie a real bow tie.

This is all okay if you put it under the collar. What really drives me crazy is if you clip it on over the collar.

We now present SLiM’s quick ‘n’ easy steps to put that bow tie back under the collar.

I. Unclip the bow tie.
II. Fold over collar, and close button.
III. Re-clip bow tie.
IV. Fold down collar.

If you find that you can’t follow these rules, I will quote for you from a wonderful book called Tricks of the Trade, page 180. It was written by a commentator on NBC’s Today Show named Gene Shalit, who commonly wears a bow tie.

There are two sorts of bow ties. One is real: You tie it yourself. One is false: You clip it on and apply for a job as a waiter.

In my humble opinion, a clip-on bow tie looks ridiculous, even if you are a waiter.

Here’s the bottom line: If you feel a sudden urge to put on a clip-on bow tie over your collar, I don’t want to see it unless you are writing down my order at Cuisine de ____¬ (fill it in).

SLiM: Thank you Dear Readers

Something odd has happened here at the blog. No, it’s not the fact that someone actually listened to me and commented “read your post” unless if I whispered in their ear “You havta comment…”. It’s not the fact that I got more than 4 comments on a post. It’s not even one of my delightful siblings deciding “hmm… I’m bored. I know! I’ll post on the blog that I’m supposed to be posting on for the past 3 months!” No, it’s something reassuring.

1,000 hits! That’s 1,000 divided by four months of blogging, equals an average of 250 hits per month. 62(and a half; but really, why do those graphs say 45.2 out of 50 Chinese don’t blah blah blah…?) per week! 9 a day!! Once every 3 hours!!!

So, you see, my blog is read quite commonly. Granted, that is an average, and yes, I do check at least once a day to see if anyone commented, but yeah, it is great.

No baseball player has gotten an average of a home run once every 3 hours. I, on the other hand, have.

Now yes, it would be reassuring to see if you would all comment “read your post,” but I feel better already.

I expect another 1,000 comments by the end of February, but until then, keep checking.

I’m definitely not going to be happy until that average is at 2,000, and maybe then we can throw a party for my readers. So keep checking, and hope there’s still some gold somewhere in California for me.

SLiM: PETA Unleashed

You know by now how much I just love PETA. (See this post.) You also know by now that I love random facts (see random fact on sidebar). Here’s a random fact for you: In India, cows have the same rights as humans, including the right to sue. If you will, all PETA members would just love to see their cows sue.

However, this would create a lot of problems for the people in India. First of all, PETA would give the right to sue to all animals. Soon, all of the court cases will sound something like this:

Judge: what brings you to court, gentlemen?
Plaintiff: Woof bark bark yip, woof woof arooooooo!
Judge: What do you have to say for yourself, sir?
Defendant: Squeak squeak, nibble eep squeak.
Judge: I see. Jury?
Jury (you must realize, the jury is made of a combination of humans and cows): We find the defendant guilty of all charges, sir.
Judge: I hereby award the plaintiff 3.5 million dollars.
Plaintiff (triumphantly): Woof, woof, woof, yip!

I am not exactly thrilled to think of the possibility of a beetle suing for the accidental destruction of its home.

Next, PETA would allow the race of anteaters to become part of the working force, if they so wish. Truthfully, I am not aware and I don’t want to know of the quality of pencils, whose production is supervised by overweight gorillas.

Finally, PETA will allow all animals to be elected to public office, and rules will pass that all humans must be kept on leashes.

And the PETA idiots will say, “This is the way the world is meant to be.”

To end: PETA must be stopped. It must be pounded until it is literally crushed. It must be erased so our children, and our grandchildren, will be able to say “What’s PETA?” and go outside to play without having to walk on their tiptoes to avoid stepping on an innocent ant.

If we do not do this, the full force of PETA will be unleashed upon the world. We will be forced to send them to India, where they will be happy for 10 minutes.

Here’s my philosophy: Better to destroy India than to destroy the United States.

SLiM: Morning in America?

A while ago, during the Obama campaign, there were two main things that got Obama into office. They are the teleprompter and the press.

Obama himself promised much during his campaign, and invented a catchy slogan that will remind one much of his childhood days and our friend Bob and his gal, Wendy. The Obama sign, however, was quite interesting.

One day, the whole Dinner Table Clan loaded into the car for a trip to the New Detroit Science Center. As we rumbled through downtown Detroit, a shout resonated through the car, “Why does the Obama sign show a setting sun?”

Silence ensued. No answer could be found.

Look carefully at an Obama sign. Doesn’t it look more like a setting sun to you than anything?

SLiM: Radio

The radio is great, informative, and fun. It is not as dangerous as TV. It gives accurate current information, as well as very inaccurate weather information for your enjoyment\frustration. (Recently, camp was going to our grand trip, but being geniuses, we checked the weather for the next day. There were supposed to be severe thunderstorms on the morrow, so we postponed the trip. The next day, there was a torrential drizzle lasting 6 minutes that didn’t even leave puddles big enough to step in and make a splash. But I am heading away from my topic, so I digress.)

You will usually hear the traffic reporter saying something like this:
The     traffic     on     the     eastbound     highway     is     backed     up     due     to     a     rollover     in     the     left     lane.

However, you will usually hear the ending of his report like this:

I’m     traffic     manager     Robert     Crew     on     NPR     newshave     you     ever     wanted     a     car      with     cushiony     seats?

Notice how much time elapses between each word and how the ending of our pal Robert Crew’s report mysteriously ends with no spaces and a car commercial comes on. To the regular listener, it’s business as usual. For the rare listener, it sounds strange, to say the least.

I asked around about the nospaceinbetweendifferentshows thing, and I found out that they do it so stupid people won’t get freaked out that their radio isn’t working. I mean, if there are 2 seconds of blank space, it must mean that the radio is broken.

The obvious problem: If this is true, than why do the talkers actually pause for, like, 1.5 seconds between words? I really don’t get it.

SLiM: Hope this doesn't sound desperate...

M.M. loves Facebook. Rabbim loves Facebook. Now I love Facebook too, as Rabbim uses it as advertising my newest posts. Looking at Facebook, however, I noticed a gadget which belongs on Conversations at the Dinner Table.

Beneath a posting on a wall, there always 3 choices for you. They are comment, like, and, share. While comment is sometimes used on this blog, and as far as I know share is used a lot (“Hey look, SLiM posted something new!”), like is not used.

Here’s how we’re going to work on this blog from now on. If you have the decency, time, patience, and idea to comment, you must do it. If you are missing either the decency, time, patience or ideas to comment, please use a differentiated version of like. I request that you write the following on “comment”: “Read your post,” and then sign your name. If you don’t want me to know that you read my post, sign off anonymously, I don’t care here.

But remember the deal. If you could comment, please do so.

I know this sounds desperate, but I feel like no one has read my post if I have no comments.

Other people may feel this way too, but to date, I have seen no requests like my own. If you want to add it to your blog, that’s fine.

Remember, I’m expecting at least 10 “comments” on every post from now on.

SLiM: Since 1942, Indeed!

Revelations, revelations, everywhere. I was wondering about the way today’s youth are going down the drain, what with substance abuse, tattoos, alcohol, etc. It happened to be I looked a pickle jar about 30 seconds after I was thinking about this. This pickle jar was made by one of my favorite pickle companies, and that’s Vlasic®. This was a jar probably about one and a half feet tall, and 8 inches diameter. It sported a picture of the good ol’ Vlasic® Stork. He was wearing his hat, glasses and bow tie. And he was standing up, for probably the first time ever. But there was one major problem.

The Vlasic® Stork wasn’t wearing a shirt.

He wasn’t wearing pants, either.

There is an urban legend that Donald Duck was at one point banned from Finland because he didn’t wear pants. I thought it was a ridiculous claim, until I realized something. If you expect someone to wear pants, it is a shock if he isn’t.

Such is the case of the Vlasic® Stork. For all the many years that the stork has reined supreme over the pickle world, we saw him as a civilized stork, with hat, bow tie and glasses. We assumed he was a refined stork, who wore clothes as well.

I urge you all to write to Vlasic®, and tell them to change their mascot to a dignified, say, sparrow who wears pants. If that doesn’t work, a nationwide boycott will be necessary.

I hope the boycott doesn’t last too long, though. I’m sure going to miss my pickles.

SLiM: A Tribute to our Inspiration

As you can see in this post, my favorite blog and inspiration for blogging is officially over-the-hill today.

It is one year old. (Oh, come on, that’s a good percentage of my age.) Iceberg Carwash is a G.O.B. (Grand Old Blog [FBB and MBB, is GOB okay?]), and it officially deserves to be recognized. It was awarded the Blog De Ouro on July 13^th, 2009, and it deserves to be recognized again. If you have been reading it till now, good, and keep it up. If not, they say it’s never too late to start, but I would recommend the following all-time favorites of mine:

· The Demise of Astroland

· Hangin' with Chad

· We Find the Defendant....Stupid, On All Counts

· As the Big Gulp Turns

· Snowflakes and Raindrops

· A Pile of Summer Memories

· The Candy Man Can...For 50% Off

Anyway, all the posts are worth reading. I don’t think you have the time or patience to do that, so I gave you that selection of fine material to choose from.

Whatever you choose, I want to personally wish a happy birthday to the Best blog on the block, Iceberg Carwash.

SLiM: Truth in Advertising

There had been a craze in camp of these little brown balls that you can throw down to make an “exploding spark!” supposedly. What it actually does is make a small pop, with no (visible) spark.

The only use of these small balls is to annoy people, as far as this blogger knows. It also happens to be that these balls are quite a price for what they are. Unless you want to pay 15¢ to annoy people for about 0.0005 seconds, I really don’t think these balls are worth it.

The exception would be if you really are dying to bother someone.

The thing is, when you buy your first package of these balls, you assume there will be an “exploding spark!” like it says on the package.

If only these advertising people would be a little more truthful, humanity would be less annoyed on the whole. Also, if these advertising people began to tell the truth, maybe some more (smart) people would buy their product. Let me explain. I once saw this commercial where a company is trying to market liquid called Orange Glow. A dude walks onto the screen and says, “Do you ever want to get rid of grease or mud, but you aren’t able to?” He takes out a bottle of stuff which works very well in our house and points to a cabinet with a lot of grease on it and says “These cleaners can’t cut the grease very well.” He puts about one billionth of an ounce of the stuff on his hand, and rubs the cabinet very lightly for one second and says “See?” even though some of the grease has actually been rubbed off. “But Orange Glow,” he says, picking up a bottle of it and a towel, “is different.” He sprays the towel for 10 seconds straight and rubs it on the cabinet. “See?” he says, rubbing the cabinet madly for 15 seconds or so. “It cuts the grease!” The thing is, we tried it out once. It doesn’t even work as well as it shows on the commercial. We went back to using “these cleaners.”

These advertising people are just another group of people that make our lives crazy.

SLiM: Coke Isn't Always It...

You may think you are in charge of your senses. But in truth, you aren’t (sometimes). One of my favorite things to learn about is optical illusions. (If you want to learn about them too, or just see them, I’d recommend any one of Al Seckel’s fantastic books about optical illusions.) Your sense of smell is easily influenced by what you think you are smelling. By the way, do you smell something burning? I do. Just joking. But of all of your sense illusions, my favorites are taste illusions.

Once, a group of curious scientists conducted an experiment. They got permission from the Coca-Cola ® Company to re-label some Coke® under an imitation brand name (for example, Super Cola). They slashed off about ¼ of the price, and to be perfectly fair, they gave free samples to random people. 100% of the people said they liked Coca-Cola® better than Super Cola (even though they were the exact same thing). Super Cola did not sell very well.

This proves a point. We humans are heavily influenced by what our senses think they will be getting. This automatically makes us biased judges when trying to accept new foods. The only exceptions to this are if you don’t know which is which or if the imitation is really a fake, and it tastes significantly worse.

Until one of senses tricks me into doing something crazy, I’m just going to sit back and watch the tricks they play.

SLiM: It’s a shoe, it’s a roller blade, no it’s…

Since we humans are lazier than ever now, we have gotten to the point where we are so lazy we don’t even want to walk. Therefore, shoemaking companies invented these cool little things called Heelys™, which look like shoes but have this added little bonus. All you have to do is take 3 steps, and then you can glide around on a built in little wheel at the back. (Don’t worry if you see teenagers gliding aloud without walking, because unlike with roller skates/blades, you don’t need to take steps every 6 seconds.) Sadly, these things don’t steer well, so people end up hurt. But this is leading away from what I want to talk about, so I digress.

Heelys™, if you will excuse me, look ridiculous. It also looks ridiculous to see people holding onto something as they turn. It also looks ridiculous to see people flailing their arms when they go too fast. All in all, Heelys™ may save calories (I’ll get to that), but they look pretty crazy if you ask me.

Another thing: I’m nervous that the company that makes these crazy shoes will be sued by people who were attempting to lose weight, but didn’t. Let me explain. Walking is probably the main way that we burn calories each day. Don’t walk, don’t burn calories. It’s that simple.

My last section of wisdom on Heelys™ for today is based on this: I have a little score to settle with my not-so-good (who is also dead) friend, Charles Darwin. You see, I don’t love his theory of evolution anyway, and if his theory is true, that spells certain doom for mankind. The less people use their leg muscles, the less powerful those muscles will get. In another few hundred years, people’s leg muscles will virtually forget how to walk. (This is why, according to scientists, humans’ pinky toes curl up over the top of the foot. Over thousands of years, the ground we live on has become much less marshy. Therefore, we no longer need our pinky toes for balance, and they shriveled up.) Of course, the forgetting how to walk thing will only occur if the majority of humanity starts wearing Heelys™.

Let’s pray that the Heelys™ company doesn’t lower their prices.

SLiM: What is Art?

I am a fan of art. I like individuals like Da Vinci, Van Gogh, and Rockwell. I like entire types of art such as Impressionism and still life. I even sometimes like graffiti, although I think would like it more if it was framed and in a museum rather than blatant vandalism. However, there are two types of art I can’t enjoy.

First of all, I don’t appreciate the big deal about so-called “modern art.” All you need for modern art is a paintbrush and a lot of colors. You need no creativity whatsoever to create modern art.

We now present SLiM’s quick n’ easy steps to getting into your local art museum.

I. Dip paintbrush in red paint.

II. Leave drips of red all over paper\canvas.

III. Dip paintbrush in green paint.

IV. Draw 19 green lines on paper\canvas.

V. Dip paintbrush in blue paint.

VI. Close your eyes and draw an 18-inch squiggly line on paper\canvas.

You probably get the idea. Now comes the hard part: Actually getting into the Museum.

VII. Sign your name as something catchy: “Lawrence Hotspringhopper” is a suggestion.

VIII. Name your drawing something like “Big Bang Dissected.”

IX. Tell the museum that you found this piece of art made by Lawrence Hotspringhopper in the basement of your new house.

X. Sell for $165 million.

You get the picture (pun intended). Following my own quick n’ easy steps, I created this art.

Unimpressive, isn’t it?

My second problem is Pablo Picasso. Since when is mutilating the human form art? Where did the guy get the idea of putting 3 noses, 4 eyes, and no mouths on a highly distorted outline of the human face? Is this guy psycho? Who wants to see a person with chins coming out of his eyebrows?

All these questions aside, Picasso was the inventor of plastic surgery. I like to refer this type of operation as “Slice, Dice, Reshape, and Sew Back Together Surgery.” Admit it; it is more realistic to what it really is than “Plastic Surgery.”

If you can get me to like Picasso or modern art, I will thank you from the deepest reaches of my artistic heart.

SLiM: Look Mom, No han... ow!

The camp went on a trip to a water park. It was fun, convenient, and best of all, it had heated water. Outside, there was a large waterslide, which you got into a tube, and went down the slide at something like 35 mph. At the end, you are hurled out into a 2 foot deep pool. In order for you to not break at least 1 bone, you must stay in your tube.

I’ll tell you what the slide is like: turn, flip to 90 degrees, straight down, turn, flip 90 degrees, turn, etc. As you can tell, it would be pretty hard to stay in your tube, so as to avoid fracturing your legs and arms.

If not for the handles...

The Handles are strips of material attached to the sides of the tube.

Of course, since there are idiotic people in the world, the first rule the attendants tell you is “Hold onto The Handles on the sides, and don’t let go until you are at the bottom.”

And of course, the first thing that pops into an idiot’s mind is “So, the dude told me to hold on. So, of course, I’m not going to hold on.” At this point, the moron goes down, not holding onto The Handles, and within 3 seconds he is thrust off his tube, and is forced to spend the rest of his ride struggling to catch his tube, as he reflects on his virtually endless stupidity. That’s until he hits the bottom.

When he hits the bottom, he says “Ow.” He then forgets all that has happened to him since the attendant told him to hold onto The Handles. All he knows is that there is a throbbing pain in his leg. He then proceeds to repeat everything that has happened since he got up the stairs to the top of the slide.

I really don’t understand these people.

SLiM: Ain't got no comments...

Your grammar teacher may have always told you “'I ain’t got no bags' doesn’t make sense, since to not not have something means to have something.” In other words, a double negative equals a positive. But I found a case where that might not be so. Let me explain.

We all know that butter is a delicious spread, but it is high in cholesterol, and, supposedly, it is a “secret killer.” Therefore, we highly innovative humans use margarine, a fake butter which is lower in cholesterol that butter has so much of. However, some people can’t have any of the cholesterol, so we invented a margarine substitute.

What I am getting at here is the fact that since a not not done equals a done, so to it would seem that a fake fake butter equals real butter. Even though according to our teachers double negatives equal a positive, I am inclined to think that that is not the case here.

Tell me what you think in comment form, but I suspect that if you disagree with me this time, you’re doing it on purpose, not because you really disagree with me.

SLiM: Chess Playing Blues

My brother, who will henceforth be known as Charles Babbage Jr, (for reasons I will not tell you, but you may look here if you want,) was playing Rabbim chess. (Charles Babbage Jr just happens to be a match for Rabbim, who is a lot older than him.) Rabbim was looking for a good move to make. As he was looking, he said to his opponent, “what I really want to do is put you in check, I just can’t.”

(Rabbim made a very sensible comment, as usual.)

Charles Babbage Jr. responded to this highly sensible statement with, “what you really want to do is put me in checkmate.”

Smart lad, he is.

SLiM: More Like a Meal?

I love Manwich® sloppy joes. I love the sauce, ground beef, and that soaked-in-red-sauce buns that you can eat after you are done. What I don’t like about Manwich® is their ridiculous (but catchy) slogan.

Besides for “Mmm, mmm, good” and “Good to the last drop,” there are probably only a few other food slogans that are so familiar with American culture.

The Manwich® catch-phrase is, “A sandwich is just a sandwich, but a Manwich® is a meal.” I have 3 problems with that phrase.

1: An obvious problem. A SANDWICH IS A MEAL, TOO! I eat them all the time for meals.

2: A problem that is obvious only to those who actually eat Manwich® brand sloppy joes. MANWICH® SLOPPY JOES ONLY COME WITH THE SAUCE! You have to make your own actual sloppy joes. If I were to misunderstand the slogan and pop a can of Manwich® into the oven for a few minutes, all I would be eating would be sauce. I would probably sue Manwich®.

3: A problem that only wise bloggers could think up. SAYS WHO? When I eat a Manwich®, I usually need to eat 2 or 3 of them to fill me up. True, it’s probably simply because I want to eat more (they’re so delicious), but even so, one Manwich® (notice the word “a”) is quite definitely not a meal.

Don’t forget, though, that whatever I say about the slogan, Manwich® is really tasty. (Hint, hint, M.M.!)

SLiM: King Frankfurter

Recently, Coney Island held its annual hot dog eating contest. You have approximately 15 minutes to stuff as many hot dogs as you can into your digestive system. It was won this past year by a man named Joey Chestnut, eating a whopping 68 hot dogs in 16 minutes. That means Joey Chestnut has beaten the world record in this topic.

Now, I am wondering about 2 things. One, how does one cram 68 hot dogs into their system without throwing up? My answer to that one: He does. I would think within about 1 hour of doing this, he emptied the contents of his stomach on someone unfortunate enough to be standing near him. If he didn’t, I give kudos to him for not doing it.

Number 2: I can’t bear to eat a hot dog of mine in less than 2 minutes. Therefore, I think it is a total waste of delicious hot dogs to eat them all in a quarter hour. The following is the scenario that would happen if I were to enter into the contest.

SLiM walks calmly onto the stage. As the seconds tick by, SLiM’s opponents are cramming hot dogs into their mouths. “Joey Chestnut is winning with 9 hot dogs!” yells the announcer. SLiM does not quicken his pace, unlike all the other contestants. He produces a duffel bag, and begins filling it with the mouthwatering hot dogs. After 13 minutes, Joey Chestnut has eaten 64 hot dogs. SLiM, by contrast, has eaten zero of them. After the 15 minutes are up, SLiM calmly leaves the stage. He has come in last place, but he is satisfied. He lugs a bag filled with 90 hot dogs, to refrigerate and eat at his leisure over the next few weeks.

As you can see, it is a crime to waste the world’s best hot dogs. True, the people want the fame (see this post), but even so, it would be better to eat them slowly.

Just one more word for you people out there: eating 68 hot dogs in 16 minutes is gross. Nauseating. Totally disgusting.

From SLiM: The Brutal Murder

I still don’t get it and I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now. I really want to keep you in suspense and read the phonebook to you to push it off, but if I do, you will simply skip ahead until I have read to you “Zyvurner,Zaphod, Lincoln, Nebraska”. Therefore, I will simply stop the suspense here, and start getting to my point.

You probably know by now that during an interview President Obama killed a fly.


This was responded to with much hostility by the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA).

Now, I could probably understand the uproar if Obama accidentally killed a tiger, or some other endangered specie. (How a person could accidentally kill a tiger, I don’t know.) I could even understand it if he killed a dog or cat, or some other animal that a sane human could possibly have a fondness for. But a (hee, hee, hee) fly???? Please excuse me now, as I have to go to the bathroom to calm down.

No, seriously, a (guffaw) fly?? Flies are one of the biggest nuisances known to man. Flies make an annoying buzzing sound. Flies are attracted to just about everything. Flies harbor disease. And just to top it all off, flies are the thing that comes just when you think nothing can get worse. You’re hot and sweaty and SHAZAM, the flies come in.

I’m nervous to think about what will happen next. Will the PETA ban the act of hitting mosquitoes? Will they slow down the production of fly swatters until, suddenly, there are no more fly swatters left? Will they ban the use of the best quality sponges (made from, you guessed it, sponges)?

There are 2 things I have to address, though, before you nasty people out there give me a flurry of angry comments. #1: Obama is the President, so he has to make a good influence on people, but if, let’s say, I killed a fly in an interview (remember, people, I am not rich and famous [yet]), they wouldn’t have made such a big stink about it. #2: The PETA doesn’t have any power; it’s just a group of people?

I will address problem #1, and then I will address problem #2. Simple enough?

Okay, as for #1, Obama made a wonderful influence. He killed a fly, for heaven sakes. He showed that the President of the United States can actually do something to someone he doesn’t like. He showed that the President has at least a little power to do as he wishes. (He really had to do that after he bowed to the king of Saudi Arabia. Obama should know that the Most Powerful Individual in the Most Powerful Country in the World bows to no other person. But that’s for a different time, so I digress.) As for #2, you never should underestimate the power of a single person, let alone a group. They could make demonstrations, boycotts, petitions, or other scary things. In all likelihood, this whole thing will blow over before we know it. I never really liked flies, but I never really had a real problem against them. I’ve been thinking about it, and I can’t possibly think of any attributes for them. I’ll keep thinking about it, and if you have any ideas, please tell me about them in comment form. After all, I would like to find something to say good about our currently not-so-great-friend, the humble fly. Plus, I might understand the PETA (although that would probably be harder to understand than the flies themselves).

SLiM: Boom! Pow! Bucks!

Another revelation hit me as I was watching the fireworks on the 4th, and after the finale I was shouting “Encore! Encore!” very loudly.

We enjoy a firework for about 5 seconds before it fades into oblivion both physically and in our minds. I don’t know how much it costs for a firework, but I imagine it’s not something I would just say at K-Mart, “The groceries total out to $45, while we’re talking about price, could you toss in a professional firework for a few extra bucks?” Remember, we’re talking about the real deal fireworks here, not the cheap things that just go “pop!” and then go out.

But that’s not the crazy thing involved here. The crazy thing is, for maybe 3 minutes we’re screaming “Give us more fireworks!” But if, by some strange twist of nature they did make an encore, we would spend the next year screaming “Why did we ask for those 8 extra minutes of entertainment?” I’ll explain what I mean.

We all know that we are being taxed too much (from what I hear). Those taxes go to things like fixing roads, bettering the fire department, and TV broadcasting. These are things that I would probably not mind too much to pay a little chunk of the money for. After all, if the roads aren’t good, I’m going to end up having to pay for my busted tire, anyway. The taxes also happen to go into entertainment bills, too, which means that we are essentially paying for the fireworks ourselves.

I’m not sure what you think, but I think that it is downright idiocy to pay a quite a few extra dollars to have 15 more fireworks, or to have all the fireworks have a bang that is 10 decibels louder.

As you may know, the U.S. government spent $277,000 on pickle research in 1993. Now, this case is not nearly as crazy as that, but if the government actually knew what was good for us, they wouldn’t have billed us to pay for bigger “Ooh! Ahh!” s, or for us to know more about the “science of the mysterious pickle”.

But, you may ask, aren't fireworks patriotic? Aren't they worth spending tax money on?

My answer to that question is: I doubt spending our hard-earned money was what the Founding Fathers had in mind for a celebration.

SLiM: The Perfect Audience

A few days ago, I made a stunning discovery. My dad, Rabbim and My Mother (who will henceforth be called MM) had guests, and the couple brought along their 3-month-old baby. Although she is one of the most adorable infants I have ever seen, she was not in the best of moods. So I attempted to calm her down-–with her parents’ permission, of course--by rocking her. Now, for realistic purposes, I will tell you why I wanted to hold her. I adore babies. I love their smell, their perfect faces, and the way they smile by sticking out their tongues. However, this cute little baby was not going to be sticking out her tongue in laughter anytime soon, so I gave her back to her father. It was at this time that I remembered that babies love peek-a-boo. I was nervous that she would see me and wonder is that kid crazy that he thinks I think that popping out is funny? Then I remembered that small babies love it when people hide and then pop out. But then I thought what, exactly, is the entertainment in peek-a-boo, that babies laugh at it? I decided to play peek-a-boo anyway. As it turned out, I was right that it entertains babies, to the extent that, if the baby could talk, her words might’ve sounded something like “bwa-ha-ha-hee” instead of “I’m hungry”. No, seriously, she was laughing like one would laugh if they heard the funniest joke in their life. And as I was doing it on time #87 or so, the great answer hit me.

The baby sees no entertainment in someone hiding and peeking out, making a loud sound as they come out of their hiding place. I think (I’m not sure) the entertainment the baby finds is the fact that the person who’s hiding is acting like a moron. Seriously, it does look idiotic if you see a person hiding and popping out yelling “uh!”


Even after the Biggest Question in the Universe was answered, I still have a question. How can a baby find peek-a-boo, a.k.a. “The Moronic Game,” interesting after, like, 125 times? They know the routine by then. “The stupid kid hides his head somewhere whispering ‘where did I go-oh?’, then pops out and says ‘Uh! Here I am!’”


Even stand-up comedy gets boring after a while.


Even, I would think, for babies.

SLiM: I'm not too sure about the Universe either...

A question I have had for a while is, why are some people willing to do practically anything for fame? I’m talking about things like jumping over a 20 foot tank of sharks on a motorcycle, or jumping out of an airplane handcuffed, foot-manacled, in a sack, and chained to a wall of a locked cell. Granted, the people who I’m talking about (Evel Kneivel and Robert Gallup, respectively) survived the stunts, but they had probably trained for months to do it. (Even so, Kneivel broke a whole lot of bones in his body.)

Professionals aside, there are people on crazy game shows, who will do things like sticking their tongues in beehives. Yeah, so 100,000 people will see you, but even so, what exactly is the point of putting your precious life in peril? Maybe you’ll get a fancy plaque, but if you might not be around when you get it, what, then, is the point? People should go after more safe pursuits, like collecting more than 285,150 ballpoint pens. (That record is currently held by some woman named Angelika Unverhau.)

After all, you won’t get another life if you throw the one you were given down the drain.

Or into a beehive, as the case may be.

“Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the the universe.”

Albert Einstein

MisterYoungster: Rock Climbing

I went rock climbing today. I came to the gym and I was like "nah, it isn't 50 fifty tall,{though I knew it wouldn't be}, it won't be fun". Really it was about 20-25 feet. Even though it looked 20 feet, it didn't. (I do not know how to explain that!) I got all harnessed up and I started climbing. At first it was easy, but that was because there were so many "rocks" to hold onto. When I passed the first 7 feet, there were gaps and not as many "rocks". There were two really big gaps, and I stayed in place for about 10 seconds trying to figure out what to do. I reached the top ( but not really.... well the top for me). After I rappelled back down I asked the attendant if I could go up again and he said "sure" . So off I went on a second trip! The same "almost to the top". I got down the second time, (still wondering what to do about the gaps if I would go up again). And my brother and I went ACROSS the climbing wall. Then I went up a third time but still couldn't quite figure out how to get past the gaps. I had lots of fun! I'll do it again (hopefully figuring out how to get to the real top next time).

MisterYoungster first Post!!!

Ever since I started reading IcebergCarwash I've wanted to write a blog. I even thought up a name, MisterYoungster, but I never really thought I would have a blog, at least when I would be young enough to be able to call it that. Now, you may be wondering why it's not called that. The reason is because I'm not the only poster.

See ya soon!

Post #2 from SLiM: at LEAST it's a FORM of WRITING

One of the many things that I both can’t stand and I love at the same time is when people write and they highlight words that they think should be noticed. Now reread the first sentence of this post, only reading the highlighted words. The new and improved first sentence of this post reads, “Many things stand love write highlight noticed.” You may now be able to understand why I love it and hate it at the same time. If you still don’t get it, I’ll fill you in.

For starters, I am one of those people who feels that details are just as important as the main story, if not more important. You see, it is wrong to just minimize the importance of some words in a sentence. It’s all very well and good for “Many things stand love write highlight noticed,” but what about “One of the that I both can’t and I at the same time is when people and they words that they think should be”? As you can see, that is the majority of the words. They must be crying for attention: “it’s a 24-to-7 ratio! Give us some attention already!”

But that’s enough of the theoretical stuff. The bottom line is, all words are important, and it’s wrong to exclude some words.

On the other hand, it’s fun to say “Hey Mom, can you guess where this is from? ‘Dieting boring food tasty? General Mills® Cheerios™ delicious calories fat dieting fun’”.

In the end, though, I want this trend to stick around. At least, for a while. (Wink!)

Post #1 from SLiM: Welcome

Welcome to our blog!

So, ever since our aunt and uncle started their prestigious blog, it's been nagging me: "Will you please grow up so you can write a blog already!" Now, I don't wish to reveal my age until I am rich and famous, or maybe until they begin making merchandise sporting the name of this blog. However, you probably do know that I am under 30, and that I am most likely younger than you are, but I digress. I thought a blog written by me wouldn't gain respect in the world of blogs. However, I found out that my siblings are excited by the possibility of having their own blog. They also may have been excited by the possibility of having merchandise with their names on it, I don't know. With a little more encouragement from my father, (who may be posting soon) I started my first post.

I am asking you in advance to please excuse me if I write in childish humor, childish topics, or if I have childish political views, for I am an amateur in the voyage of life.

Enjoy our blog!