the Tommy|Zor era

[continued...at this point the only people in the crowd are the janitor and your slutty aunt]

The Pussycat Dolls keep singing “Be careful what you wish for ‘cuz you just might get it! (Just might get it, just might get it! Oww! *musical note symbols here*)”

That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard in a while. Why would I NOT want something I wish for to come true? I only wish for amazing, beneficial things – bisexual girls who lust after me (and each other), unlimited money, a flying car that transforms into a Pepsi machine, etc. If any of these things came true, then FUCKING GREAT. I have been wishing to win the lottery since I turned 18. BE CAREFUL TOM, YOU MIGHT BECOME A MILLIONAIRE AND NOT HAVE TO WORK A FUCKING JOB FIVE DAYS A WEEK. Oh no. Stupid fucking Pussycat Dolls. Millionaires telling me to be careful about what I wish for. Luckily their new “Bottle Pop” song is the most awful, infectious, mesmerizing pop song since “My Humps.” Shit, it even sounds the same because of the use of the TR-808 in lethal doses. I fucking love that thing – any type of bass that makes my hair stand on end from the sheer sound pressure level is good car music. Hell, I don’t even play it loud, but it feels like there’s a vise on my skull. Neat.

One day I was so tired that I forgot to turn my toothbrush on. I just put it on every tooth for a few seconds, and then when I was done, I did the tongue swipe check on my teeth for cleanliness. Fail.

My dad bought a small freezer, then put it outside in the winter time and unplugged it. Genius.

I wish McDonald’s would stop advertising so much. I have no idea if the ads are working because I keep eating there. I wish I had never eaten there, just to see if I would.

Opinions. Opinions, they say, can’t be wrong because they’re a personal view. That’s wrong.

I think a banana split is the ultimate show-off food for first-world nations. You have things you can’t get all in one place – ice, milk, bananas, nuts, fruit, clear plastic tub. Just by ordering one in Canada you’ve now required a banana to be shipped in from god-knows where to go along with your Canadian dairy, American fruit and Chinese plastics. All for three bucks. It takes some people $8 to drive to work and back.

As a kid I invented the solar-powered flashlight. It had a battery that just started the bulb, and then it ran off its own light via solar panels after that. Sadly, I still have an office job.

You know those windmill wind turbines they now use in fields for making electricity? Make the tower and blades out of solar panels. You heard it here first.

The very best food is really bad for you. I still haven’t figured out why I can’t just chew on it and spit it out to save the calories. Is the swallowing sensation really what pleases us? If so, I should swallow a bite at the beginning and end, and spit out the rest. It sounds so simple but KFC really looks less pleasing post-chew.

Everyone always associates Florida with alligators. Within 2 hours of going to Florida, I saw an alligator. It was very disappointing. I hate reinforcing stereotypes. Within 2 minutes of visiting California, I saw a Mexican. I should expect to get home and get hit with a frozen hockey stick made out of maple syrup and beavers.

I’m not the least bit interested in politics, and I bet a lot of that has to be with being a Canadian. I look at our coins, and I’m like, “who the fuck voted for the guy with antlers? I don’t want to be a part of this.”

TVs keep getting thinner and people keep getting fatter. Ideally every girl would be wall-mountable.

How many stair steps do you have, to get to your upper floor in your house? If someone put a gun to your head with that question, wouldn’t you be upset that you didn’t know? Wouldn’t you be even more upset if the gunman didn’t want you to count the upper floor as the final step?

We’d save a ton of money on lighting if all the roads and building were white or glow-in-the-dark translucent plastic.

Never bring a black light to a house that hosts orgy parties. Just don’t do it.

How do fish survive an entire winter in a frozen lake? I turned my aquarium down a few degrees and they all died within days. Then some bitch comes over to your house dressed in 3 sweaters and complains that it’s too cold. It’s like, bitch, I’m tryin’ ta save mon-ay so I can buy you a dinner so you’ll take your pants off. Girls always get freaky after you feed them, proving that fat chicks really do have more sex.

You can’t really pay for self-esteem, but you can certainly spend money to lower someone else’s.

The handling of cold pizza can be pretty meta. For starters, you can hold cold pizza upside down and eat it that way. You’re going against nature and the intended design of it, and cheese before bread is on another plane of existence.

If they made a lawnmower that ran on grass clippings, that would be fantastic, but only if you bought it used.

Don’t hurt your worst enemy, just rewire their turn signals opposite.

I hate how food connoisseurs take their obsession down to the very fundamentals. “I only like dark chocolate bars made out of 70% or more organic cocoa, blah blah blah.” No, sir, fuck you. All the money in the world can’t make it taste better than bulk store milk chocolate-covered almonds with that lovely shellac gloss coating.

Has anyone ever came to your house, went to your sink, and said, ‘Which one’s cold and which one’s hot?” as if it’s ever changed since the dawn of time? Right up there when a stranger hands you a camera to take and picture and politely tells you which button takes the picture. “You mean this button here, the same one since the late eighteen hundreds? What do you mean hold it half way to focus? I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m not sure I can push an on-off button ‘half way.’ The laws of electricity just don’t allow that, you’re going to have to ask someone else.” Once I had several teenage girls hand me their camera for this purpose at the airport. In retrospect, I could’ve made off with an expensive camera pre-loaded with HOTT TEEN PIXXX!!!1!! 30-DAY FREE TRIAL TAKE A TOUR NOW!!! but it was a Canon and I just don’t like the user interface that much.

Perhaps only in Canada do you see convertibles with their top down with snow tires on. I perfer my girls topless with big boots as well. I said boots.

It’s all right to do a crappy job, unless you think you were doing it well. I do get a kick out of those “Made with pride in the USA” stickers.

One would assume that giving hockey players figure skating skates would improve their skating potential, if not add to their ninja jumping moves during fights. Do they even allow fights in hockey anymore? I haven’t been paying attention since Gretzky stopped playing for the Toronto Blue Jays.

I remember in grade 4 we did that experiment where you hook up a light bulb to a potato and it lights up, proving that potatoes are a source of energy due to their acidic fluids or whatever. That lesson was poorly thought out, because now you have fat white trash moms buying potato chips every day to give them energy, too. They should’ve stuck to the example using lemons only, I think. Or rat poison.

Stupid fucking Pussycat Dolls. Mind your business! Seriously.

It’s so meta to think that a simple hair curler can use up to 750 watts and 5.8 amps (it only takes 0.8 amps to kill you) of electricity and girls use them like they’re bars of soap. These same girls are deathly afraid to plug in a television antenna cable for fear of electrocution. Did I mention they usually use them on salty wet hair while standing with a puddle in bare feet?

One day I was working on my car in the driveway. I remember this one precise moment where I hit my thumb with a hammer so hard that blood misted out onto my shirt. I immediately went into shock from the pain and went unconscious. I remember waking up on the driveway a few minutes later and thinking to myself “How come no one came to check if I was OK, or even alive? For that matter, where the fuck is my car?”

Sometimes I wish I was a hermit that lived in a shack, far away from a city or town. Then I could do all those meta experiments I’ve always wanted to try but a normal life doesn’t let you – the all liquid diet, drinking only beer for 72 hours, seeing how loud your stereo actually goes, pissing off the top of your roof, making a swimming pool full of Jell-O, eating a squirrel, or sending an international package to yourself and paying the taxes and duty. I’m just kidding, I can’t afford that much Jell-O. Besides, I’d pick the yellow one and give everyone the wrong idea. Not that they’d see it. Yellow it is.

They say you should never stick metal objects into a microwave. All new microwaves have steel shelves and grills inside. I wouldn’t have the balls to even plug that son of a bitch in.

KFC would make all sorts of new products and revenue if they could convince the world that turkey is as tasty as chicken. The famous KFC bucket would now be a barrel or drum. It’s weird, everyone I talk to says that they love turkey over chicken, yet they only crave turkey once or twice a year and eat chicken weekly or daily. I’m pretty sure that per-weight, turkey is cheaper than chicken. Am I the only person who actually eats what they like? I don’t think turkey has anything on chicken, especially after the Colonel’s touched it. I should phrase that differently, as I’m not sure where he touches the chickens or how young they are.

Roosters are brown but hens are white. It’s the ultimate interracial reverse gang-bang with plenty of breasts and legs and a minimum of cock. That sounds like a joke a rude child would say, except they would’ve said “tits” and ruined it.

If I just turned into a fish and had to swim around and try to mate, I’d be so nervous about appearing bisexual. I’d just mack on every fish I saw, and then made a decision based on whether they go in front of me or try to go behind me. At that point I’d appear picky to weed out the males. “Hey listen, on second though, I’m not sure this is going to work.” …*moment of silence* “…but then again, I have no idea how fish have intercourse, so we’d better do this quick and don’t tell me what you are when we’re done, OK?”

In some schools, kids aren’t allowed to bring peanut butter sandwiches for fear of a reaction with a child with a severe peanut allergy. These same concerned parents have no issues sending their small child door-to-door selling charity chocolates to child molesters and rabid dogs. I’m going to cover my child in poison, spikes, chocolate, peanuts and an ID that says they’re 18 for maximum defensive capability.

They say “sex is like air – it’s only important if you’re not getting any.” I guess these people have tried asking for sex underwater and got rejected?

What goes around comes around, so that’s why I keep trying to fuck every girl I meet.

I wonder if at a Kellogg’s factory, there’s a giant olympic-sized swimming-pool bin full of Corn Flakes. That would be such an impressive sight. Or is it baked in small batches that goes right into boxes? I know someone who works there so I could easily find out, but I’d hate to break the fantasy of diving into a vat of Corn Flakes like Scrooge McDuck dives into his money. It sucks getting older and realizing that at an average duck’s mass, it would be impossible for him to penetrate any amount of coins on a dive, let alone have the shoulder strength to wade through it at all afterwards. I would go as far as to say he couldn’t even open the vault’s valve wheel to get into the fucking room in the first place. I think I feel ill now…