I attended a Super Bowl party at a friend’s house on Sunday.
What I didn’t expect was the sauna and steam bath that came along with a small living room crammed full of people. This is what happens due to poor planning. A disaster. The whole place turns into a fucking sweatbox. If he invites me next year, I’m showing up in a bathing suit. I’m also bringing a fan and a cooler full of ice cubes. Then, maybe he’ll get the message.
“Owners of dogs will have noticed that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they will think you are god. Whereas owners of cats are compelled to realize that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they draw the conclusion that they are gods.”
― Christopher Hitchens (The Portable Atheist: Essential Readings for the Nonbeliever)
How many of you own a cat?
Well, I do. In fact, I own two of them.
But wait. Do we really own these finicky felines? It’s goes more like this…our cats actually own us. If you’re a cat person or have ever taken care of one for any length of time, you know this to be true.
Here are 25 ways to tell that you’re owned by your cat:
What would compel an otherwise rational person to dive head-first into a cesspool filled with shit, piss, garbage, and bacteria?
Why — religion, of course!
On PBS tonight, there was a documentary program about the Ganges, a.k.a. the Ganga River, located in India. This is a vast tributary of life (and potentially death) for hundreds of millions of people, living in both Bangladesh and India. It’s also one of the most polluted rivers in the world, a breeding ground for sickness and disease — not just to humans, but animals, as well. And it’s that way almost entirely because of indifference from religion, and specifically Hinduism, which continues to promote the loony notion that bathing in feces-encrusted waters somehow makes gullible believers “spiritually” whole again.
[Palm slapping forehead]
Which brings us to the question: Why do we revere such absurd, not to mention dangerous, religious practices?
Allow me to take this occasion to express my deepest gratitude to so many of you out there who sent me a Christmas card this year, or to appease the political correctness police — “a holiday card.”
It might surprise some of you to know that I celebrate the Christmas season devotedly. I love opening up my presents. I feast on festive holiday dinners with plenty of calories. I indulge myself by drinking more expensive wine than usual. And football games are way more fun to watch in the snow.
Say what you want about my radical politics, at least I understand the true meaning of Christmas.
That said, here are some suggested guidelines for those of you who adhere to the hallowed annual tradition of sending me a Christmas card. Following these ten recommendations will greatly enhance my enjoyment of the holiday season. So, please read carefully and take notes:
Following a jam-packed five-hour flight over the long Thanksgiving weekend, a typical flight-during-the-holidays hell that was delayed more than four hours, this photo shows the display of horror I saw upon my arrival at Fort Lauderdale International Airport.
You’re looking at an empty service counter at 1:15 am. Poof! Where is everybody?
Hey ass jokers! What happened to my advance reservation with the mickey mouse company no one either has ever heard of or uses called– “Payless Rent-a-Car?”
Pay less, my ass. Now wonder the customer pays less. A company can give you a phony fish hook price when they fail to hire a single employee to work the night shift.