Once upon a time, I was healthy and whole. And I’m not talking about the teenage years, when you could be dragging a broken leg behind you, bone sticking out the side, and you’d still want to go clubbing or some lame shit. No, I’d take just being thirty-seven and getting a good night’s sleep. I’d accept the lower back pain, or the diminished athleticism, or whatever the ravages of time threw my way. It would be better than exposing one’s self to western medicine.
One evening like any other, I woke up breathing as if … There’s more of this shit. Click here.
Another great exhibit examined the concept of playing music to plants to stimulated growth and health. The girl who ran the experiment discovered that the control group plant (the one with no music) grew fastest, because “the plant wasn’t all stressed out by loud music”. Sublime. There’s more of this shit. Click here.
I throw in the towel on trying to make a point with my jokes, and “give them what they want”, when I should give them what they need: A swift kick in the frontal lobe. But I don’t kick them in the lobe. I baste their brains with butter and honey, and see them safely back to sleep. It shames me. There’s more of this shit. Click here.
I suspect that when we reach the point that the “beautiful people” are no longer rare or difficult to obtain, we might start to think that originality counts. Or – and this is gonna sound crazy – but what if this future age of being able to mold your body into any shape you desire leads to a renaissance in thinking? There’s more of this shit. Click here.
To be fair, I don’t blanket name all people who say or do stupid things as stupid. No, I discriminate. There are people who say or do stupid things out of simple ignorance, for instance. There’s more of this shit. Click here.