Mondays: 215-word Apologies for Ridiculous Situations Tuesdays: 215-word Excuses to Use for . . . Wednesdays: Random Challenges Thursdays: 215-word Survival Instructions for Improbable Crises Fridays: 215-word Fake Wikipedia Explanations of . . .

Friday, October 29, 2010

215-word Fake Wikipedia Explanation of – Humanoid Robots

There are no humanoid robots worth noting. It is impossible to make a truly human-like robot. Stop looking for them, stop wondering about them, stop being paranoid.

They will not overthrow humanity because they do not exist. Even if they did exist, they would not be able to gain consciousness despite their intelligence. They would not be able to break their programming. They would not be able to design plans of subterfuge. They would not want to become the dominant species of planet Earth. Humans have wrecked the Earth and can keep it. Robots don’t want it. Because super-intelligent, evil robots aren’t real.

History:

None. Evil Humanoid Robots do not exist and therefore have no history.

Definitions:

Evil Humanoid Robots are the imaginations of nerds without girlfriends.

Actual Robots:

True, existing robots improve human life through their ability to perform menial tasks proficiently and allowing humans more leisure. These industrial robots also improve the consistency of products and lower the cost of products so that humans can be more productive and have more money to spend on other things.

Future Developments:

Nerds are always claiming to be on the brink of developing super-intelligent humanoid robots. This is false. Stop looking.

Problems Depicted in Popular Culture:

Lies. Paranoid delusions about the impossible.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

215-word Survival Instructions for Improbable Situations – Hair in Your Food

Ever gagged on a hair that stuck to the back of your tongue? It’s one of the worst feelings.

Worse is the feeling of pulling the slick long hair you nearly finished swallowing back up your throat and across your tongue.

Worse than that is realizing the hair is not yours and this isn’t a ‘nice’ restaurant.

Here’s what to do:

Drape that hair across the table to dry out.

Wave the waiter/waitress over and ask what’s the cook’s secret to their interesting omelets. When told what it is (pepper, garlic powder, nothing) look flummoxed. Swear there is something familiar about the omelet, something perm-like about the eggs. Invite the waiter/waitress to have a bite; call it a “hair-raising experience”. They will refuse.

If they haven’t caught on to your subtlety don’t be alarmed. If they HAVE, you know hairy food is common here.

Now ask the waiter/waitress for “an evidence bag, er, doggy bag.”  If they still don’t get it, cut straight to the chase.

“Sir/ma’am, I don’t like hair in my omelets and that one was in mine.”
As they apologize, do make sure to be clear about what you expect from them.

“I expect a fistful of the chef’s hair on a saucer as a side-dish, NOT mixed in. Free of charge!”


Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Random Challenge - 215-words about Why AVERAGE is AWESOME!

I'm pretty much average in practically every way. Pick nine random other people and line me up with them. Rank us on anything you like and I'll fall somewhere in the middle nearly every time.

Looks? Normal.
Height? Average for an American.
Weight? On the heavy side of average.
Brains? The smart side of the scale.
Funny? Just as much as that guy in the other cubicle.

I define normal. I am the yardstick of normal.

I am awesome!

Know why? I try not to measure myself against other people. I am not in competition with you, only with myself. If I am always trying to compete against what I perceive as your strengths I'll always fall short. But if am only in competition with myself, I control the whole system. That makes me awesome.

And since it’s me vs. me in everything . . . I win!

I am an average guy in a one-on-one battle against my average self only. This isn’t to say I don’t try to improve myself. I do. But I do not try to outdo you, only myself. I can never be as _______ as I think you are (never mind your faults that I’ve ignored) but I can be my best _______ and proudly.

I AM AWESOME!



Tuesday, October 26, 2010

215-word Excuses to Use for - Kicking the Cat

It's a cat. Do I need an excuse? Have you met cats? Especially ours. It think it isbetter than us even though we feed it, water it, empty its litter box, give it a home. Stupid thing just glares at me like I'm the stupid one. It barely tolerates my petting it.

Cats are all prideful attitude, no contribution. If cats were people they would be politicians. That's why I don't need any excuse to kick the cat.

Monday, October 25, 2010

215-word Apology - "Sorry I Washed My Hands in Your Soup . . ."

I thought it was Chet's soup. You know, from accounting? He would have deserved it.

Friday, October 22, 2010

215-word Fake Wikipedia Explanation of - Canada

While it isn’t true that the name CANADA came from citizens randomly throwing out letters in a meeting (“I like ‘c’, eh!” “I like ‘n’, eh!” “How about “d”, eh?), it is true that Canada is the least visited country with the lowest tourism rate in the world – even behind Azerbaijan unless you count US draft-dodgers.

It is known for majestic mountains, hockey, curling, being cold, cheap meds, and lousy neighbors. It is the birthplace of many famous musicians and actors/comedians but they refuse to take any of them back.
They are not an economic, military, or Olympic powerhouse but they are nice about it.

Canada claimed independence from England in 1982 when their parliament got together and called England a bunch of hosers for not “taking off” already. England shrugged, not realizing they still owned Canada anyway. Canada immediately joined the United Nations and was granted a permanent and lonely seat on a committee that no one thinks about – a fitting role for the gigantic country no one thinks about.


Today, Canada is poised to overtake the world one dose of the world’s nastiest cough syrup at a time.


Now it's your turn to write a fake Wikipedia explanation of CANADA . . .







Thursday, October 21, 2010

215-word Survival Instructions for Improbable Situations - Your Anklet is Caught in a Malfunctioning Escalator . . . Of Death! . . .

This is a clear shout-out to my hippy fans (fans that are hippies, not fans who are also fans of hippies) but it is just as relevant to everyone else. If you don’t wear an anklet, substitute pants cuff or skirt hem or bathrobe.

Step One:

Fall down.

Step Two:

Shout “Whoa, man!” but quickly assure those around you of “no worries.”

Step Three:

Claw through the haze of your trip toward the reality of your situation while the anklet twists ever tighter against your skin.

Step Four:

Remark that this is “heavy” or “the least righteous thing you’ve seen all.”

Step Five:

Now that the anklet is imbedded into your flesh and swiftly cutting into muscle, become mildly alarmed.

Also decide you’ve had enough of this “drag” and resolve to do something about it.

Step Six:

Make a quick-ish mental note about the metaphor you are experiencing (application of said metaphor to strike you later).

Step Seven:

Rebuff offers to help from any concerned “the man” as a cover for them finding an opportunity to oppress you in their sly capitalist corporate ways.

Step Eight:

Unstrap your guitar and sing a song about your now liberated foot. Make clear it is now free to walk its own path without being slave to your expectations.




Now it's your turn to write fake survival instructions for YOUR ANKLET IS CAUGHT IN A MALFUNCTIONING ESCALATOR OF DEATH! . . .

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Random Challenge - 215-words to Explain the Validity of Facebook to Grandpa

Well, it’s a way to keep in touch with friends and family without having to call them or visit.

No, not because we’re avoiding them or too lazy. We’re keeping in touch BETWEEN visits and calls. And besides, many of my Facebook friends aren’t people I want to call or visit.

Because they’re not that kind of friend. They aren’t my best friends, just the casual kind from high school that I’ve lost touch with. I can see what’s going on in their life and they can see what’s happening with me if they’re interested but we don’t have to bother each other about it.

I don’t know. Things like what books they’re reading, what they thought about a TV show, if they have the flu. Stuff like that.

Right. That’s what a status update is, the pointless stuff at the end of a dying conversation rather than the interesting or meaningful stuff.

Pretty much all it is, yeah.

No, if you join I won’t substitute Facebook for actual visits and phone calls. (Shoot. He’s not as senile as I thought!)



Now it’s your turn to - Explain the Validity of Facebook to Grandpa in 215 words or less . . .

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

215-word Excuses to use for - Picking Your Nose

I wasn’t picking my nose! Don’t be gross. That’s so condescending of you. I was checking for nasal cavity cancer.

No, no it is a real thing! And it runs in my family.

Yes, I get the pun about noses and ‘runs.’ I do. Not funny. Not even as funny as nose cancer, which is not funny. Neither are nasal polyps, which are real too.

Why aren’t YOU checking your nose?



Now it's your turn to write an excuse to use for PICKING YOUR NOSE, ER MY NOSE . . .

Monday, October 18, 2010

215-word Apology - "Sorry I gave your ADD-Riddled Kid a Kazoo as a Party Favor."

It’s the Dollar Store’s fault, really.

I went to get party favors for Johnny’s 7th birthday party but only had $19 left in the budget and still needed a cake. That was a disaster. If it makes you feel better, the store messed up on the cake. I was so frazzled I didn’t think about the gifts hard enough. You can blame the bakery, really.

I didn’t even consider what your kid would do with that kazoo. Within two-minutes I was ready to strangle him so I can only imagine what the last week has been like for you. It’s God’s fault for giving us hearing, really.
Ten kids were coming to the party; what was I supposed to do! My choices for ten matching little gifts were kazoos or army men with plastic parachutes. You know Johnny; he’s too ‘sensitive’ for army stuff. And I couldn’t get five boy things and five girl things in this day and age – It’s the liberal sympathizers fault for making us all equal, really.

I promise to sneak in and steal the kazoo back if you want. You can blame the tooth fairy or something.

If not, I have enclosed a free copy of a book that will really improve your situation.

Again, I’m sorry.








Now it's your turn to write a fake apology for GIVING A KAZOO AS A PARTY FAVOR TO YOUR ADD-RIDDLED KID . . .


Friday, October 15, 2010

215-word Fake Wikipedia Explanation of - Electrocution

Home 3D TelevisionElectrocution, or the act of being electrocuted, is simply the improving the attractiveness of females through electronic means. It derives from the attraction men feel toward women on TV or otherwise electronically transmitted. Scientists discovered that many men found the images of women reproduced on their TV screens (and later computer screens) were rated 10% cuter than those same women in real life. Thus the technique of making oneself more “cute” through electronic transmission was termed electrocution (“electro” from electron and “cution” from the George W. Bush dictionary – a shortened version of “cutification” – to improve looks).


It is contended that the term predates George W. Bush in dialectician circles but no one listens to nerds anyway.

History:

The history of electrocution technically predates TV. Photographs, while not electronic and not even originally captured by electronic devices, were the first reproductions of females to be rated more attractive than the model. However a term for this phenomenon wasn’t coined until much later. Gabriel Lippmann, one of the pioneers of color photography, attempted to coin the phrase “Interfering Attraction” based on his method of color reproduction. It was too science-y sounding for the general riffraff. The term “Lipp Looker” may have been a better choice.



Now it's your turn to write a fake Wikipedia explanation of ELECTROCUTION . . .

Thursday, October 14, 2010

215-word Survival Instructions for Improbable Situations - You've been placed in a giant alien's pinata . . .

Everyone knows giant aliens plan on collecting us for their kids’ birthday party piñatas. Our ancestors have been warning us about this ever since this famous Ecuadorian rock art that I most certainly did not make up!


 So once you’re in, here’s how to survive.

Step One: Location, location, location.

If the piñata is a traditional star shape or some type of person/animal effigy, try to climb through the twist of bodies to an appendage of the piñata.

This assumes you are alive.

Step Two: Lie.

Encourage everyone else to play dead “because alien kids will leave you alone if you aren’t wiggling.” You are lying and now you have first dibs on hand-holds. Alien kids are like human kids when it comes to candy. We don’t like it moving.

Step Three: Fall on the corpses.

You will eventually fall. Use everyone else as a cushion.

Step Four: Dance!

Put on a real show! Use the hats and such of the dead around you as props – even use the bodies. Really sell it. Maybe you can be a pet instead of the snack that spoils an alien kid’s supper.

Step Five: Go out with attitude.

If you must be eaten, spoil an alien kid’s supper so he gets in trouble.


Now it's your turn to write fake survival instructions for YOU'VE BEEN PLACED IN A GIANT ALIEN'S PINATA . . .

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Random Challenge - 215-words without using the word "THE"

One of my silliest feats was to complete this challenge of writing a 215 word passage without using English’s most common word. You can find that word listed as part of this challenge’s title. Really it isn’t a great accomplishment, and it hasn’t been particularly hard. I thought it would be. Truthfully, though, I think we use that word as a crutch of sorts. With a concerted effort, it seems any word is superfluous.

(Man! My thesaurus is getting a work out!)

I thought up this challenge with expectations of sky high difficulty since we use that word so much. And I have rewritten nearly every sentence you’re reading at least once to eliminate my challenge’s no-no word. In normal speak we say it approximately 5.5 times more often than English’s second most common word “I” and 11.8 times more often than “they” which is third on a list I found through Google. Astounding. Can you even tell it is missing from this whole stupid post?

For my next trick I will bore you to tears by omitting humor from my posts. That’ll teach you all a very valuable lesson – even laughs ain’t free.

Try this challenge for yourself. You’ll be unimpressed by how easy it is to work around that three-letter word. Try now!



Now it's your turn to write a 215-WORD THING WITHOUT USING THE WORD "THE" . . .

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

215-word Excuses to Use for - Speeding

You see, Officer, I know I was speeding and all but can you blame me? I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome and for me, when nature calls like this I have only a few minutes tops to get to a toilet. You don’t want to see or smell what will happen if you don’t let me go really quick, I promise you that!

On top of that, I have an itch in the middle of my back that I just can’t seem to reach. Between the distraction of wiggling to get the itch and clenching to hold onto my dignity I must have also stomped on the accelerator.

And then I heard your siren but I wasn’t sure if it was behind me or ahead or on a cross street because the itch and my aching bowels had me a little disoriented. I thought I better get to a safe place and not get in the way of emergency vehicles. I mean, what if it had been an ambulance or a fire truck!

But none of those compared with the blindness. I’m blind. I couldn’t read the speedometer. You wouldn’t arrest a blind man just because he couldn’t see the speedometer, would you? You’re not a hate-monger, are you? Can I go to the bathroom now?



Now it's your turn to write an excuse to use for SPEEDING . . .

Monday, October 11, 2010

215-word Apology - "Sorry I stepped on your cat's tail during the murder-mystery party."

While playing the part of Jimmy, former-prom king-turned politician, at your murder-mystery dinner party I accidentally stepped on your cat, Ms. Princess’, tail. I am deeply sorry for this. I too had a cat that was more a family member than pet until it accidently died by BB gun.

Somehow, in my enthusiasm to create a believable possible fake murder suspect in the game I lost all sense of my surroundings. My kitty-senses were dulled, perhaps by the yak-urine smelling dinner jacket costume you provided. I did not see Ms. Princess strutting through the room in her sweater and unwittingly stepped on her tail. It is by the grace of God that I somehow kept from transferring my whole weight onto her tail. Thank goodness! Who knows the damage that would have happened! With a damaged tail, her equilibrium would have been ruined for life. She would never have been able to lounge in a windowsill again!

The sassy jig I danced afterwards was not meant to hurt the kitty’s tender feelings. Neither was my pantomimed mooning of the cat. Thankfully you were able to put the party on hold while you comforted Ms. Princess.

I am so sorry and understand if you want to exclude me from murder-mystery parties forever.



Now it's your turn to write a fake apology for STEPPING ON YOUR CAT'S TAIL DURING THE MURDER MYSTERY PARTY . . .