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I offered the woman next to me a stick of gum, a common opening move in interrogations. Me: (pointing gum package at her) Would you like a stick of gum? Terry Pratchet fan: No thank you. (pause) Me: (cautiously) Hey… when I was sleeping just now… was my mouth hanging open? Terry Pratchet fan: (attempting to be polite) Um.. I wouldn’t have noticed. Me: No, seriously, I think my mouth was all dangling open, you couldn’t have missed it, seriously, was my mouth hanging open while I was sleeping? Terry Pratchet fan: (shyly) Okay, your mouth was a bit open, while you were sleeping, but it isn’t a big deal or anything. Me: (eyes narrowed with contempt and distrust) What did you put in my mouth while I was sleeping!? You evil jerk!! The Terry Pratchet fan didn’t have anything to say after that. What could she have said? I caught her! I hope she didn’t put anything really bad in my mouth, like a microchip, or a little submarine filled with tiny, temporarily shrunken people who would drive around in my body and take pictures of the inside of my butt and my wang and stuff to sell on the internet. I hope she put something harmless in my mouth, like a little piece of turbinado sugar candy, or a tic-tac with a little safety line of dental floss tied onto it so she could ensure I wouldn’t accidentally inhale it while I was sleeping and choke on it, or a breath mint or something. Wait a minute! You know who I blame for this whole, unfortunate incident? That Listerine dissolving breath mint commercial, you know, the one where the sleazy dude is on a plane next to a woman and he’s breathing his stinky-assed breath in her face but she’s all cool and collected and puts a Listerine dissolving breath mint in his open mouth! Well, Listerine advertisers, I have something to say to you: that’s fucking battery! I can’t believe Listerine would be so irresponsible to show, and seemingly condone, acts of battery on national television! What Listerine doesn’t show is that fifteen minutes later the sleazy dude has an SEVERE allergic reaction to the dissolving breath mint and the plane has to touch down early to get him to the hospital which throws the plane off schedule and forces SEVERAL other people to miss their respective VERY IMPORTANT business meetings. Oh God! I hope that Terry Pratchet fan didn’t put a whole sheet of acid into my mouth! One of my friends in college knew a guy who bought a sheet of acid and put it in the pocket of his jeans to take home. But on his way home, it started raining, and his jeans got all wet, and his body absorbed the whole 100 hits of acid! After that, he pretty much flipped out and was put in a special insane asylum. That’s what could happen to me! The guy who had the sheet of acid in his pants thinks that he’s a glass of orange juice, and he only ever says three things: (1) Don’t drink me! (2) Don’t spill me! (3) Don’t tip me over! The guy also uses a funny voice when he makes these statements, presumably that’s how orange juice talks. I’ve always thought that “Don’t spill me!” was pretty much the same as “Don’t tip me over!” And I always wondered why the guy goes to the trouble of saying, “Don’t tip me over!” when not tipping him over would seem to be covered by his admonition not to spill him. I was talking about it with my friend, Chris S., just the other day. What Chris S. said made a lot of sense: To us, spilling a glass of orange juice and tipping a glass of orange juice over is pretty much the same thing, but to a glass of orange juice, they are probably completely distinct experiences. Brian 11:38 AM Comments: Post a Comment

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House of Noh!

Friday, September 24, 2004

I must have been really, really tired. When I sat down in the window seat on the train there wasn’t anybody next to me. I woke up all disoriented, multiple stops later, and there was a quiet, diminutive woman sitting next to me, engrossed in her Terry Pratchet book. What’s worse, from the chalky taste in my mouth I was pretty sure that I had been sleeping in my seat with my mouth wide open - the slack-jawed glottis-showing sleep of the really, really tired. I offered the woman next to me a stick of gum, a common opening move in interrogations. Me: (pointing gum package at her) Would you like a stick of gum? Terry Pratchet fan: No thank you. (pause) Me: (cautiously) Hey… when I was sleeping just now… was my mouth hanging open? Terry Pratchet fan: (attempting to be polite) Um.. I wouldn’t have noticed. Me: No, seriously, I think my mouth was all dangling open, you couldn’t have missed it, seriously, was my mouth hanging open while I was sleeping? Terry Pratchet fan: (shyly) Okay, your mouth was a bit open, while you were sleeping, but it isn’t a big deal or anything. Me: (eyes narrowed with contempt and distrust) What did you put in my mouth while I was sleeping!? You evil jerk!! The Terry Pratchet fan didn’t have anything to say after that. What could she have said? I caught her! I hope she didn’t put anything really bad in my mouth, like a microchip, or a little submarine filled with tiny, temporarily shrunken people who would drive around in my body and take pictures of the inside of my butt and my wang and stuff to sell on the internet. I hope she put something harmless in my mouth, like a little piece of turbinado sugar candy, or a tic-tac with a little safety line of dental floss tied onto it so she could ensure I wouldn’t accidentally inhale it while I was sleeping and choke on it, or a breath mint or something. Wait a minute! You know who I blame for this whole, unfortunate incident? That Listerine dissolving breath mint commercial, you know, the one where the sleazy dude is on a plane next to a woman and he’s breathing his stinky-assed breath in her face but she’s all cool and collected and puts a Listerine dissolving breath mint in his open mouth! Well, Listerine advertisers, I have something to say to you: that’s fucking battery! I can’t believe Listerine would be so irresponsible to show, and seemingly condone, acts of battery on national television! What Listerine doesn’t show is that fifteen minutes later the sleazy dude has an SEVERE allergic reaction to the dissolving breath mint and the plane has to touch down early to get him to the hospital which throws the plane off schedule and forces SEVERAL other people to miss their respective VERY IMPORTANT business meetings. Oh God! I hope that Terry Pratchet fan didn’t put a whole sheet of acid into my mouth! One of my friends in college knew a guy who bought a sheet of acid and put it in the pocket of his jeans to take home. But on his way home, it started raining, and his jeans got all wet, and his body absorbed the whole 100 hits of acid! After that, he pretty much flipped out and was put in a special insane asylum. That’s what could happen to me! The guy who had the sheet of acid in his pants thinks that he’s a glass of orange juice, and he only ever says three things: (1) Don’t drink me! (2) Don’t spill me! (3) Don’t tip me over! The guy also uses a funny voice when he makes these statements, presumably that’s how orange juice talks. I’ve always thought that “Don’t spill me!” was pretty much the same as “Don’t tip me over!” And I always wondered why the guy goes to the trouble of saying, “Don’t tip me over!” when not tipping him over would seem to be covered by his admonition not to spill him. I was talking about it with my friend, Chris S., just the other day. What Chris S. said made a lot of sense: To us, spilling a glass of orange juice and tipping a glass of orange juice over is pretty much the same thing, but to a glass of orange juice, they are probably completely distinct experiences.

Brian 11:38 AM

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House of Noh!

Friday, September 24, 2004