“The owners of I Have Munchies, Mark Arthur and Noel Davenport, are on a mission to bring the convenience store of your inebriated dreams to your front door during the crucial party hours of 8:00 p.m. to 3:00 a.m. on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays (still no alcohol after 2:00 a.m., unfortunately). For a small delivery fee, they’ll bring you anything legal—beer, chips, smokes, and, soon, condoms—potentially rendering pants obsolete.”—Lazy Stoners: Meet Your New Best Friends
“Steven McCormack had fallen between the cab and the trailer of his truck, breaking the air hose. The nozzle pierced his buttock and began pumping air into his body, which expanded dramatically. As he screamed, Mr McCormack’s colleagues turned the air off and laid him on his side, saving his life.”—The Air Hose “Accidentally” Slipped into My Butt. Honest!
Unsurprisingly, Florida is the most dangerous place to own a pair of legs: Orlando was ranked as the most dangerous city for pedestrians, followed by Tampa, Jacksonville, and Miami. (Fortunately, if you own a pair of legs in Florida, they’re probably already retired.)
Yes, a bit of cruelty underlies the laughter—as it should. Remember: the Rapture nuts were running around for months predicting that a tiny handful of them would ascend into heaven on Saturday night because God loves them so much. The rest of us—those whom God hates—would be left behind to watch our non-Raptured family members, friends, neighbors suffer and die for a few months before God finally got around to destroying the planet and everyone left on it.
This is bloodlust masquerading as piety—”So long, suckers! God doesn’t love you! Enjoy watching your kids die!”—and it’s crueler than any Rapture joke I’ve heard. Cruel people should be cruelly mocked.
Hm. I’m looking through the last couple of weeks’ worth of Savage Love mail and finding a lot of accusations styled as questions about the Arnold Schwarzenegger love-child unpleasantness. It’s all my fault, you see, because I’m a big proponent of nonmonogamous/monogamish relationships, and aging Hollywood action stars don’t drop their drawers without checking in with me first. And look what nonmonogamy did for Arnold and his family! Poor Maria! Look at the chaos that being nonmonogamous creates! Failed marriages! Devastated children! Scandalous scandals!
But Arnold Schwarzenegger wasn’t in a nonmonogamous relationship. He was in a monogamous relationship. Arnold failed monogamy. He didn’t succeed at nonmonogamy.
So Since Judgment Day is Saturday, What are You NOT Gonna Do?
Shave my legs. Stop myself from ordering 27 Canadian bacon pizzas from Little Caesars. Call my parents (they’ll just rub it in). Pay any rent or utility bills. Wait for that cute bicycle messenger to sleep with me, and instead have sex with an uggo. Be nice to anyone or anything. WORK. EVER. AGAIN.