Sunday, January 6, 2013

The Samuel L. Jackson Chainsaw Massacre

Story #1

I went to my first gay bar the other night. It went much more smoothly than the party I had attended the night before. This is how that went:

"Alright, I'm going to the bathroom. DO NOT START THE GAME WITHOUT ME."

Lalalala I hum as I skip to the commode.

"That girl is nuts!"


I yell this as I am in the restroom, sitting on the toilet. I immediately regret this decision, for I had one chance to convince these strangers that I was in fact not nuts, and then what do I do? I start yelling and pissing, at the same time, behind closed doors. For all they know, I wasn't even talking to them. I was just yelling to myself in the restroom. Yelling at my urine, even. "I heard that, Urine! I heard you stream out of my pee-hole!"

And why did they say I was nuts? Because I kept yelling whenever I got excited? Because I was blurting out random facts, like how there's a 30-foot penis monument in China? Because I was speaking in different accents throughout the night? I didn't know anyone there! You think I'm supposed to talk in my normal voice? No! That's awkward! I'm much more comfortable as an Australian. I'd rather talk about dingoes and dildos than how cold it is outside and who's having who's baby.

Story #2

I just Febrezed my cat. She does not like this. I, however, thoroughly enjoy it. You know how new mothers will try their infant's mashed peas out of curiosity toward what they're giving their child?

HA! That's dumb. There's no way I'm Febrezing myself. 

Fuck. I feel guilty now that I said that.

Okay, I just Febrezed myself. It was cold and wet and uncomfortable. That makes no difference. I'm still going to Febreze my cat.

Story #3

At my last doctor's visit, I had to get my blood pressure measured. As the nurse wrapped the thing around my arm, she said what I thought was: "Do you know how to check your own arm?"

"No," I replied, perplexed. Isn't that her job? What am I paying these people for? To watch them put on gloves and take them off and put them on and take them off?

"You don't know?"

What the fuck is going on? No, I don't. I didn't go to medical school. Did I miss out on something? Did everyone learn to check their blood pressure while I was napping one day?

"Well, I'm going to have to measure your height then."

What? Alright, I am severely baffled. 

"What? Wait, does that have to do with blood pressure?"



"Since you don't know your height, I'll have to measure you to record it."

"What? I know my height; I'm 5'3"."

"Oh. I thought you said you didn't know it."

"No, I said I didn't know how to check my own arm."


Alright, now we're both confused.

"What did you ask me?"

"I asked you if you knew how tall you were..."

"OH! I thought you asked if I knew how to check my own arm."

Two o'clock is obviously an unacceptable time for me to interact with humans. Whoever said, "It's 5 o'clock somewhere" was mistaken. It's 5 o'clock when it's 5 o'clock, and that's when I am able to communicate with my species.

Story #4

Someone recently asked me if I had a drinking problem.

I told them, "No. I drink just fine!"

Story #5

I woke up this morning from a nightmare. Samuel L. Jackson was chasing me around with a chainsaw.

He'd catch me, and chainsaw me just a little bit, and then I'd break free. Then he'd catch me again. This went on forever. Then he jabbed me in the shin with it and it hurt like a motherfucker. I broke free again, looking for a way to escape that wasn't on foot. The only vehicle I spotted was a tiny bicycle.

"Yes," I thought, "I will ride that tiny bicycle and get away from The Samuel L. Jackson Chainsaw Massacre!"

I got on the tiny bike, and started riding away. But like I said, I was on a tiny bike, a bike the size for an infant, so I could not ride very fast. I had also been chainsawed a few times, so I wasn't in that great of physical shape. 

He laughed and caught me. He didn't even have to run. 

Then my friends all showed up and saved me from Sam. 

Upon awakening from this terrible dream, I decided to look up what a chainsaw symbolizes in Dream World.

"To see a chainsaw in your dream indicates that something drastic is about to happen. Success will only come about through willpower. Alternatively, it suggests that you get right to the heart of the matter quickly. The chainsaw may be seen as a phallic symbol and can refer to your sexual drives."

A PHALLIC SYMBOL? Are you fucking kidding me? What genius linked brutal weapons with dicks? A damn pervert, that's who! Who gets off on chainsaws? Nevermind, I don't want to know. But a chainsaw would kill you. And in case you didn't know, you can't have sex if you're dead. People could have sex with you, but technically, you would not be doing it. If I have sex on my mind, I usually dream about sex. SHOCKING, I KNOW. And Samuel L. Jackson? Is that linked to the whole penis-thing, too? Because that curiosity has never crossed my mind. The Great Mouse Detective, maybe, but not Ol' Sammy J.

And why did I think I'd be able to escape on a tiny bike? My unconscious mind must have a negative IQ, and that's even more discomforting than penis-chainsaws. 

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