Tricking people: Ask your victim if he’s ever heard that the word “gullible” isn’t in the dictionary. Then when he gets insulted that you tried that old trick on him and insists that it is, tell him to actually look in his dictionary. He’ll open it up only to find that you’ve torn out the page containing the entries from gulch to gunman.
The band !!!: As I’ve mentioned, the band !!! has a poorly chosen name, since it’s impossible to name drop without confusing the average listener. It’s supposed to be pronounced chk-chk-chk, but this Something Awful commenter likes to pronounce it bang bang bang. Not only is that appropriately long and onomatopoeic, but it appeals to my editorial side, as “bang” is printer’s slang for an exclamation mark. But let’s eliminate any possible confusion. From now on, I’m pronouncing that band’s name as exclamation mark, exclamation mark, exclamation mark.
Social assassination: While I don’t necessarily endorse this sort of dirty trick, Facebook has made it easier to completely socially destroy someone with merely a few seconds’ use of his computer. For instance, his John Smith’s friends and associates might begin to have serious doubts about his judgment when his status is changed to “John Smith is REALLY looking forward to masturbating later.” And he’s going to have a lot to answer for when his status reads “John Smith hates fucking niggers.” (For example, is the F-word being used as an adjective or a verb? Both are bad, but one is worse.) The interesting thing is that I’ve seen this tactic in action, though it seemed to be in the heat of anger rather than cold-bloodedly premeditated. I have a Facebook friend — let’s call him John Smith — whose status was once changed to “John Smith is a LIAR and a cheating ASSHOLE!” I checked his relationship status; it read “Engaged”. But, the next time I looked at his profile, his status line was blank, without a trace of what was there before. So was his relationship status.
Bicuriosity: Under torture, almost every heterosexual man will be forced to admit that if he had to have sex with another man — like, if he had to, in order to prevent another Holocaust — there is at least one really beautiful man out there that would be acceptable (see: Christian Slater’s “I’d fuck Elvis” scene from True Romance). But not me. If I had to have sex with another man, I’d pick the oldest man in the world. Let’s just put the benefits of having an experienced lover aside to look at the other good points: First, the current holder of that title lives in Japan, so it’s not like I’m likely to bump into him again anytime soon afterward. Second, this is someone who’s way past his expiry date; he’s got maybe six months or a year left of life expectancy in which to make things awkward or lord it over me. It might actually be less than that, since there’s a higher than average chance he might actually die during the act, which brings me to my third point: you get to kill two birds with one stone if you get to simultaneously explore your bicurious side and fulfill your fantasy of killing a man.
Snowballs: Know what really sucks? Getting hit in the face with a snowball with a rock in the middle. But you know what’s a lot better? Getting hit in the face with a creamy nougat centre. Oh, it still stings like a bitch, what with the nougat freezing solid and all. But after it thaws, at least you’ll have a little something for your trouble.
Filed under: Miscellaneous Improvements | 3 Comments