What I Don't Get About This Election

Here's what I don't get...

Why is Florida still allowed to vote? No really, somebody give me a good reason here. Correct me if I'm wrong, but haven't they managed to screw up just about every single election since the beginning of time? I know I'm not the smartest person in the world, but I do know how to mark an election ballot. Here's how I do it. I look at who I want to win and then I mark the thingy next to their name.

More specifically, here's my process for voting...

First, I vote for anyone who has a silly name (e.g., Obama), because I like silly names. They're just more fun.

Second, I don't vote for people who look like pedophiles when they try to smile (e.g., McCain).

Third, I never vote for someone who is dumber than me (e.g., Palin). When you can't answer the question, "What do you read?" that's kind of a good sign that you might be, oh I don't know, retarded. She really should have learned how to answer that question a long time ago, don't you think? I mean, shouldn't you learn to answer something like that right around the time that you learn how to answer the questions "What's your favorite color?" and "What do you want on your waffle?"

See Florida? That's how you do it. But since it seems like you will never understand this, I hereby vote that we should seal off Florida from the rest of this country. We should just put a long piece of yellow police tape across the entire Florida border, and we should hang a big "Do Not Resuscitate" sign outside of it.

Here's another thing I don't get... Campaign commercials. I just saw one that went something like this...

(Fade In, Grainy Picture of a Politician with a Booger Hanging Out of His Nose, Then a Narrator with a Scary, Low Voice)

Daniel Johnson. He says he'll work for North Carolina, but let's look at the facts.

Patrick McHenry wants to cut your taxes.

Daniel Johnson wants to raise your taxes, molest your children, and leave them for dead in a meat locker.

Patrick McHenry invented the snow cone.

Daniel Johnson voted to abolish the snow cone.

Patrick McHenry always wears a flag pin on his lapel.

Daniel Johnson. No flag pin.

Patcrick McHenry wants to give you a new car.

Daniel Johnson wants to give you AIDS.

Daniel Johnson... North Carolina simply cannot afford another flag pin-less politician who will molest and kill our children, take away our snow cones, and give us all AIDS.

Has anyone, ever, in the history of mankind been swayed by one of these things? I mean, except for all of you Sarah Palin Klan rally fans out there?

And speaking of Sarah Palin Klan rally fans, I just don't get how they all manage to feed their faces and wipe their butts every day, what with all them missing chromosomes and all. Again, I'm not the smartest guy in the world, but let me give all of you Sarah Palin Klan rally folks my two cents...

If you get all dressed up like one of the Village People and go out to one of those fancy rallies, and if you've given yourself an official title like "Joe the Plumber," "Billie Jean the Cosmotologist," "Zeke the Grand Wizard," "Cooter Bob the Meth Addict," or "Bubba the Sodomite".... I'm just gonna go out on a limb here and guess that, taking all things into consideration, you probably don't pull in a quarter of a million dollars a year. I mean, I've seen y'all go into the Dollar General store to register for your wedding cutlery and beef jerky, so I'm thinkin' that you're probably all still in a pretty safe tax bracket.

But that's just me.

Of Bras and Underwear

Like most men, I buy new underwear only when absolutely necessary (e.g., if someone breaks into my house and steals them all). And even then, it's a little iffy, because I got better things to do than to be buying underwear all the time.

And when I do buy new underwear, I put about as much thought into it as I do when I, say, eat a cupcake, or when I give a stranger directions to a hospital, or when I fill out my will. I just can't be bothered to think about it much when there are so many more important things in life to spend my time on.

But women and their bras...

I had no idea this was such a big deal. Apparently, when women go buy new bras, they actually try them on. Not only that, but there's often a lady in the dressing room helping you.

First of all, I can't even imagine going into a store and trying on underwear that 500 other guys before me have tried on. I'm getting queezy just thinking about it. I don't know about you, but the only other person I want touching my underwear before I wear it is the one-armed Filipino orphan who is making the thing on the fourth floor of some sweat shop in Manilla. I want him to gently fold it, put it into an air tight plastic container, and send it to America.

But the more alarming thing is that women have got someone helping them to try their bras on. I have been told that this person is officially called a "titter." I swear I am not making this up. A titter. This weekend I am going to go to Nordstrom and apply to be a titter.

Anyway, the other day, Jodi went to buy some new bras. She had some old lady titter helping her. I wasn't there, so I don't have a good visual. But the way Jodi described it, I'm picturing someone who looks like that really crazy old racist at that McCain rally... Wait, I guess I have to be a bit more specific... You know that one lady with the really nice hairdo who told McCain that Obama was an Arab? And then McCain said, "No, he's a decent family man"? Because being an Arab and a decent family man are mutually exclusive? Yeah, that one.

So Jodi's in the dressing room with this old lady. And apparently she keeps jamming her hands into the bra cups, jostling Jodi's boobs around, trying to stuff 'em in to make 'em fit.

I don't think Jodi really wanted the old lady to be helping her, let alone to be jostling her boobs around. But I guess there's some kind of bra-fitting etiquette that women have to live by. If an old lady wants to pinch and fondle your boobs in the dressing room, you're supposed to just stand there quietly and smile. I guess it's kind of like going to the doctor and letting him stick his fingers in all your holes while you chat about gas prices.

Well, apparently things were not going real well. They couldn't find a bra that really fit the right way. Finally, the old crazy lady said, "I know! I know what the problem is! You got one boob that's bigger than the other one."

This is the kind of thing that you say to a woman when you want her to feel self-confident.

Then the old lady said, "Not only that, but they're lopsided too! Yeah! One's up here and the other one's over there."

See all of the new things I learn about women as I get older? I always thought that, when a woman asks you how she looks, the best thing to tell her is, "Yes, dear. You look fine, dear. Let's go, dear. We're running late, dear. No really, dear. You look stunning, dear. You should be on the cover of Glamour, dear. I really mean it, dear. Please, dear. We're late, dear. No, I'm not just saying that, dear. You really do look the most beautiful I've ever seen you, dear. Can we please go now, dear?"

But now I know that you're also supposed to say, "Hey, your boobs look particularly lumpy and uneven tonight, dear. New bra, dear? No, no, no. I like it when one nipple points to your elbow, dear. That's swell, dear."

Like I said, these are new tips that I'm learning all the time. Men and women just do things differently. I just can't even begin to imagine going in to a store to try on underwear. And then some senile old guy starts shoving his hands in there, moving my boys around.

And I'd say, "Hey! What are you doing?! Get outta here!"

And he'd say, "Hi, I'm Butch, and I'll be your nutter today."

"I don't want a nutter!"

"Hey! Did you know that one of your balls is smaller than the other? Wait, let me go get some tape. I'll tape 'em together to make one big ball!"

Yarn and the End of the World

Had a visit from some relatives recently and it was really great. Peg, my brother Mike's wife, is crazy about knitting, so we got to go into some yarn stores while they were here, which was AWESOME!!! Man, I love yarn. If I was stranded on a desert island, all I'd need is some yarn and several packets of glitter and I'd be all set!

Peg buys a lot of yarn.

According to Mike, this is how much yarn Peg buys...

At first I thought that was innocent enough. But the more I looked at that chart, the more I realized that I've seen something a lot like it before.

It turns out that yarn has a direct connection to the end of the world...

And to make matters worse, that has a direct connection to the amount of hair that is coming out of my ears as I get older...

And that has a direct connection to how every passenger on my flight yesterday felt about children, based on the presence of the kid in seat 17A...

And that has a direct connection to the history of Scientology...

Facts don't lie, people.

Just say no to yarn.