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Weak XVI

16 April 2023

No. 6,458 (cartoon)

Why do you treat me like vermin?

You told me to think of you like family.

17 April 2023

Grateful to Be Dead

Cheryl’s doctor interviewed her for her end-of-life health directive.

“Would you like any rituals with music?” he asked.

“Please play music by the Grateful Dead as I’m taking my last breaths,” she requested.

“I love the Dead too!” her doctor enthused. “Any particular songs?”

“They’re all the same drivel,” she replied. “Listening to that odious dreck will make me yearn for death.”

18 April 2023

Home is Not a Place

Stephanie gave me a brand new composting pail when I visited her at her studio, and it’s marvelous. It’s made from polished stainless steel that “looks great on any countertop,” and features dual charcoal filters and a sturdy handle. It’s a real beauty.

“How do you like it?” she asked.

“Thank you for the lovely gift,” I replied. “I hate to sound ungrateful, but you know I’m living out of a small carry-on backpack, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she confirmed, “that’s why I got it for you!”

She went on to explain that she was struck by the advertising slogan on the box, “Home is not a place. It’s a feeling.”

I agreed that was a lovely sentiment, and didn’t mention that the authorities would almost certainly confiscate my can of decomposing slop if I tried to bring it on a jet. I put the bottles of white wine I brought in the bucket, filled it with ice, and there I was: home again.

What a feeling!

19 April 2023

Gross Exercise

Sarah celebrated Bicycle Day by pedaling five kilometers to Franny’s Fry Shack for the Wednesday special: eight pieces of fried chicken for five bucks. That doesn’t seem like an appropriate way to remember Albert Hofmann’s problem child, but to each her own.

She had more practical concerns than lysergic acid diethylamide. She asked me whether her short ride to eat a half a kilo of foul greasy fowl—my description, not hers—counted as exercise. A stupid question deserves a stupid answer, and I was happy to oblige.

I posited that since she consumed many more calories than she lost cycling, it wasn’t net exercise, mathematically speaking. Given the amount of fat, hormones, and who knows how many carcinogens she consumed, I concluded it was gross exercise.

20 April 2023

The Butt Implant Era

“Cardi B is right,” Arwa Mahdawi wrote. “It is time to leave the butt implant era behind.”

Hoo girl; reading that headline reminded me just how out of touch popular culture has become with me and vice versa. I have no idea who Cardi B is; I suspect she—or he?—is one of those people who’s famous for being famous. And as for the butt implant era, I was completely unaware that it had even arrived. Thinking back, though, I suppose the herds of obeseniks waddling through the airport should have been a clue.

I’m afraid to ask when new era we’re in, so I won’t.

21 April 2023

Hogwash Unfit for Swine

My friends who live in the European Union complain about unnecessary and ridiculous regulations, and from where I’m standing on the shore of the Pacific Ocean I’m in no position to argue. Having said that, empirical evidence suggests that sometimes the bureaucrats make a wise move. I’m thinking of thousands of cans of Miller High Life “beer” being poured down the drain by Belgian customs officials.

Bravo!

I put “beer” in quotation marks because the swill is barely beer-flavored water. The Belgiumites must sleep better at night knowing their borders are protected from at least some of the pernicious American invaders.

Deirdre was not impressed when I told her about the triumph of good taste over the Molson Coors Beverage Megaconglomerate. She explained the bureaucrats poured the insipid hogwash unfit for swine down the drain because it was labeled, “The Champagne of Beers.” Champagne is a protected designation that only applies to exports from that region of France, hence the European Union ban on anything else using that name.

(Curiously, Americans can and do make and sell champagne. Alcohol was illegal here when the international agreement regulating such naming conventions was passed, so we never signed it. That’s why you can go to your local liquor store and buy the beer of champagnes as well as the champagne of beers.)

22 April 2023

Cats Day (Formerly Earth Day)

I stopped being concerned about the environment after we humans rendered it FUBAR decades ago, but I recently received an inspiring message that’s forced me to reconsider: Save the Earth; it’s the only planet with cats!

I’m done with Earth Day; I am hereby changing the name to Cats Day.

23 April 2023

That’s All, Possums

Dame Edna Everage, Sir Les Patterson, and Barry Humphries all died at exactly the same time yesterday. I’m at a loss for words about what to say about such a tremendous loss, so I’ll give the last word to Edna.

“Spooky.”

Coming next weak: more of the same.

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©2023 David Glenn Rinehart