They say that history repeats itself. But I don’t think that’s really true. Take the War of 1812 for instance. I don’t think we are ever going to have one of those again. Or like when Alexander the Great conquered Persia back in 331 B.C., I can assure you that he will never do that again. On account of him being dead and all.
Seriously, the more I consider it, the more convinced I am that “history repeats itself” is merely propaganda forwarded by historians to drum up business for themselves!
They say that there is more than one way to skin a cat. To which I reply: Exactly how do we know this? Like, is there some computer genius out there somewhere who has dedicated their life’s efforts toward creating the most advance computer simulation imaginable, which now runs through millions of iterations of hypothetical scenarios involving various numbers of cats and sharp implements, and which has led to the indisputable conclusion that there are precisely 4.5 or 12.7 or 342.9 ways to skin a cat?
Is this how we know this?
What? You say that this knowledge is derived from real-life instances of actual human beings skinning actual cats?
But more to the point: What an inefficient way to reach such a conclusion.
No more monkey business!
The era of monkeys engaging in capitalism and global free trade are now over.
Consider yourself embargoed monkeys.
I am never quite sure whether I should “punch up” or “spruce up” the language.
So rather than putting the finishing touches on this piece and submitting it for publication, I’ve instead decided to pour myself a glass of wine, take the last remaining Percocet from my root canal last year, stare at the textured patterns in my stucco ceiling, and contemplate all the (if you ask me, quite significant) differing implications of “punching” versus “sprucing” up language as it applies to my forthcoming listicle about the thirteen most unflattering dresses worn at this year’s Academy Awards™. Which will be coming soon to a pop culture, and/or fashion, and/or entertainment, and/or Hollywood gossip, and/or serious news outlet desperate for advertising revenue, website near you.
But not until I finish the damned thing.
Go ahead haiku
With your perfect syllables
Showing off once more
The typical haiku
Has 5 then 7 then 5 syllables
This haiku is atypical
Why use up three lines
When two will often suffice
They say that time heels all wounds. But sometimes, you also really need sutures. Plus antibiotics. And an overnight hospital stay.
Let’s face it: Time isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
in preparation for my soon-to-be short-lived comedy career, I have crafted a handful of esoteric “walks into a bar” jokes:
an anthropomorphism walks into a bar. get it?
a solipsist walks into a bar. or perhaps it was merely an internal mental projection of some sort.
a premonition always had a feeling that it would walk into a bar.
a paraprosdokian walks into a bar and no one gets the joke.
a malapropism walks into a barn.
a simile walks into a bar like a metaphor checks into a hotel.
that’s all I got . . .
This sentence is a microcosm of a much larger sentence that you are not privy to.
I usually don’t write about politics, but I’m going to make an exception in this case: I’m glad that Joe Biden announced that he isn’t going to run for President this year. I mean, he seems like a nice enough of a guy on the surface. But I simply cannot ignore the fact that he is Vice President – literally the president in charge of wicked and immoral behaviors! Criminy, why do we even have one of those?!
Do we really want to take the person who has overseen all of our nation’s vices over the last seven years, and put him in charge of our military? Or allow him to make all the jokes at the annual White House Correspondents’ Dinner? Or . . . I don’t know, whatever else Presidents do?
Not. A. Chance.
Why do we always “face” obstacles? Why not “torso” obstacles, or “leg” or “arm” them instead?
I take that back. We really shouldn’t arm obstacles. Obstacles are bad enough already without the weapons.