Rant 12: Of Squirrels and Underwater Living

What the fuck man? This is a huge-ass paragraph Tristan. Why should we read this? Why should we read anything? What the hell is a book anyway? Well you'll all be fucking authors after retelling this grand tale. The feud began on a rainy Tuesday, like all important feuds do. I knew I'd be in for a long war of attrition when I saw the whites of his eyes. Yes I dug trenches, yes I built a castle, yes I enlisted a draft. None of it mattered. The Japanese Flying Squirrel with laser eyes would have none of it. He carpet-bombed my battlements, pillaged my town, and ate my Doritos. My precious Doritos. That's when I knew I'd have to bring in the big guns. A motherfucking Chinese Flying Squirrel with an axe to grind. A literal axe, and since squirrels aren't adept at grinding weaponry, I couldn't use him in my war. But at this point other people have joined in to help, because obviously they would, because the menance of foreign flying squirrels needed to be eliminated. So at this point it's like 100 people vs a few of those demon critters. What's a man to do? Well I'll tell you, I'll build a house underwater. I started by pouring concrete on the sea floor. My foundation then was a blob-like mess, but that's ok, who needs a foundation anyway? After scrapping house number one, and not wanting to live next to the ugly, unfinished house someone who totally wasn't just me build, I tried again. This time, it worked. Don't ask how, but now I have a house underwater. But alas, my commute for groceries was a pain, so I got a drone. A drone that can fly and also swim. And also make chocolate shakes. I mean, who wouldn't spring for the chocolate shake upgrade package? I know I couldn't pass that up. So I'm drinking my shake in my underwater house when I realized that without a banging party, my life would be incomplete. So I gathered my glitter and my construction paper, and those awful scissors your teacher says are supposed to be for cutting that paper, but actually suck, and I set to work. After three weeks of a labour of love, my party invites were complete. I got on my computer to tell everyone that I made party invites when I realized I just invited them to the party that way. Well, that plan didn't work out so well, so I opened a window and threw the invites into the ocean, promptly flooding my underwater house. I now live with 3 fish and a bulbous, gross looking other creature that claimed my reclining chair. What a dickhead, I paid good money for that chair. I decided to move out, and I took with me my handy dandy table fan, SNES controller, and 3 mostly dead AAA batteries. Never know when you'll need those. So you're probably wondering: Tristan, how did you breathe underwater with all that water in your dwelling. I'll tell you. I had a snorkel. A blue and burnt-sienna snorkel. I made it to the surface, ready to pursue my aspirations of becoming a world famous friend of not sea animals. But then I saw that the Japanese Flying Squirrel killed everyone and there were no pizzas left to eat.

Rant 11: I Will Now Try to Multitask

I decided that today was the day. I was going to fulfill a life long goal of mine. I was going to learn how to walk and chew bubblegum at the same time. This task, I knew, would not be an easy one. I prepared myself by walking. First, slowly, then with my hands in my pockets. Later, I walked with my eyes closed. I was getting in a walking groove(probably aided by the fact that all the displaced dirt around me was forming a sort of groove itself). I then practiced chewing bubblegum. This part was hard. I didn't try to overburden myself by blowing a bubble(as I don't know how to do that), so I just focused on chewing the gum. After a rigorous 6 hours of practice, I figured it was time to go for the gold! I placed a piece of bubblegum(double bubble like a champ) in my mouth and took a step. So far so good. I then chewed on the gum. Wiping my brow(as the effort made me sweat profusely) I tried to take both a step and a bite at the same time. I don't really want to talk about what happened next, but I figure this needs to get off my chest. As my left foot came down from the step, I slipped, crushing an old woman that somehow managed to be right there underneath me. I tried to break my fall by grabbing a fire hydrant, but I only succeeded in opening the nozzle, and the high water pressure sent the poor woman's poodle flying into a 3rd story window. My shoe flew off, striking a semi truck, that careened into a bakery, causing the scene to smell like gasoline and bread. My gum ejected from my mouth, and tumbled into air. It was a minty green piece, that perfectly hit a car windshield in such a spot that someone mistook it for a green stop light. This car went through the intersection, taking out several roadside mascots after the driver tried to avoid the semi truck. I slowly got up. I noticed I knocked the lady out, and she was eating a piece of toast. I took that toast, but before I could, a swarm of seagulls came after me. They ended up eating not only the toast, but the gasoline soaked bakery goods. This mutated their DNA, causing them to become super evil villainous seagulls of evil. All in all, I'd give this day a B+.

Rant 10: Franchising in Caves

I wish I was shrunk down to a 3 inch size person, or so. It would be so incredibly epic. I would be able to drive R/C cars, and skateboard with Tech Decks(anyone remember those amazing little things? I know you do, don't lie), and I could swim in any of my favorite beverage. I could live in a mansion that only took up the space of the middle of a floor. I would troll people by dressing up in a devil outfit and standing on their shoulder, whispering advice to them. I would steal so much money, posing as a tooth fairy. There are endless things I could accomplish by being so small. I could find all lost stuff inside and under couches. That would be pretty neat. It would be like cave diving. How does anyone like that as a sport? I mean, you are basically hurling yourself at a bunch of jagged pieces of very hard stones, and hoping that your parachute opens. If I was a cave diver, I'd probably not ever dive. I'd just casually stroll inside of a cave. I don't know what I'd do after that, because every movie in the world about caves has something go terribly wrong. Instead, I would wear a clown outfit into a cave. You never see clowns in caves, nor do you see them in any immediate danger in almost any movie. That is probably the best way to break the cliche. A lot of people are afraid of clowns though, so maybe that would trigger some sort of crazy chain reaction that would end up with a bannana giving birth to a raccoon the hard way. Personally, I'd avoid caves altogether. There is no McDonalds inside a cave, and I like to be within 7 miles of a McDonalds at all times. It is the American way. Maybe, I will open a McDonalds INSIDE the cave. Imagine me, in a clown suit, serving McDonalds to cave divers that totally did not expect to find a McDonalds in their cave! They'd still have to pay for the McDonalds though.

Rant 9: A Birthday Igloo

My parents looked at me quizzically. I told them what I wanted for my birthday, and there was no stopping my resolve. I had this planned for a long time, and no one on the planet was going to talk me out of this. For years, I had this planned, for years I knew that this birthday would be the one. I told my parents that on this birthday, I wanted an igloo. I would make an impenatrable fortress out of it, considering there was only one door. I would have an endless supply of water, and I wouldn't have to pay for air conditioning. My dream was flawless. My parents, being the great people they are, agreed to build me an igloo. Since I didn't want to stand around and wait for it to be finished, I left for the day, collecting my supplies. I would put my big TV in the igloo, and a lawn chair, and a bed, and a refridgerator.... wait, no, it should be sufficiently cool in there, and all sorts of other wonderful things that will make this perfect. I will also dig a moat around my igloo so that evil doers cannot enter my lair. So, I returned to my house, and looked at the progress of the igloo. It was coming along nicely, as my parents were working on the final touches. They finished, and wished me a happy birthday. I crawled inside the tiny space, and much to my dismay, it was empty! How was I to fit my giant TV inside? Well, I decided to build my moat first, and worry about the TV problem later. I got out my shovel and began to dig. I realized this task was much harder in practice than in thought, but I resigned myself to the task. After 13 hours of intense work, I had my moat. It was a chasm, stretching a whopping 37 inches into the Earth.Surely no one could get through that expanse! I then lit tiki torches around my igloo, to keep the bugs away. It was time to put in the TV. After about an hour of trying to wedge it in the small opening, I gave up. I I hurled the TV into the air, and it crashed into the top of the igloo. Finally! I got both a TV and a skylight in my igloo! With both of these tasks done, I began to paint the walls. This took quite a while, and within the cramped space, gave me quite a headache, but, after 2 days of painting, I now have a neon pink and green igloo with a skylight and a moat. I asked my parents for a dragon to protect me, but they said no. Shows how much they love me. They'll import tons of snow into this temperate climate, but no, one little teeny tiny dragon is too damn much for them to get me. Lamers.

Rant 8: My Pet Armadillo Is My Drummer

I know it, you know it, we all know it. We all think about how much better life would be if we all had pet Armadillos. Never fear, I will be the first to tell you it is actually not as good as we all imagined. On a cloudy Wednesday afternoon 4 months ago, I bought my Armadillo. I knew for sure at the time that this was the final piece of the puzzle that would make me a rockstar. I bought him for $300 in Austrailian money, and put him in the passenger seat of my car. Due to my extensive research, I knew Armadillos like heavy metal music, so I played some as loud as I could, in a gesture of friendship. This didn't work so well because for the next 3 days, he wouldn't listen to me. Some friend he is. I decided to name him Orsgaard: Destroyer of Neptune. I figured that name would mean he would instantly become a powerhouse of a friend, protecting me from all the evils of the world. Instead, he slept a lot. Shows how much he appreciated a great name. After a month, I decided it was time. I strapped him to a drum set and wheeled him on stage. He totally stood me up! He just sat there, not playing the drums! How could I be a famous rockstar if my drummer isn't doing anything?!? Well, I chalked it up to nerves, and took him out for ice cream. Wouldn't you know it, the ungrateful Orsgaard: Destroyer of Neptune made a huge mess all over the floor of my house not two hours later. I forgave him one more time, thinking it was just butterflies in his stomach or something. I then told him to make the album art for our beastly CD that we were going to make together. I locked him in a room with a pad and pen and let him be for 3 days. I know writers and artists need their space, so I didn't bother him. After that time past, I went into the room. Orsgaard: Destroyer of Neptune, chewed up my desk, shredded my curtains, made multiple messes on the floor, and didn't even bother making album art for me. I returned him the next day. Worst. $300 Australian. Ever.

Rant 7: The Underground Resistance

This little chat group has expanded beyond the rather small initial amount of people that had previously resided within it. It is like returning to a changed world, where the rulers are frogs, and the military was overrun by kittens. If I suddenly woke up in a world like that, I'd probably wear a frog outfit. Since there are a lot of frogs, I'd have to choose it carefully, as our rulers and masters, the frogs, would probably see through a plastic mask and deem me a traitor. I don't want to be a traitor, especially if I had no idea who I was trait-ing against. I assume there would be an underground faction of resistance fighting for the good cause, because every movie/video game/book/tv show/fable/cave-drawing/crop-circle says this is absolutely the case. When I find these freedom fighters, I would probably ask for a candy bar. Who can "fight the man" without a Kit-Kat bar? I sure can't. After eating my Kit-Kat bar and instantly gaining the trust of the resistance just like every radio-drama/opera/internet article/music lyrics/story told by old people says will happen, I will then figure out how to usurp the evil frog empire from power. I probably would need to wipe out the entire population of flies to cut off their food source, but then, would I be any better than those evil frogs? The best plan of action is to send them all on a complimentary cruise to Alaska, where I am sure Sarah Palin would still be alive, and she would take care of them for me. Only then, could I truly bring the world back to its rightful balance, where it is ruled by me, and the former resistance: the Penguins.

Rant 6: I Wish I Was The President

I wonder to myself, as I type this, if I can actually rant about something(and that something usually is a big bunch of nothing) every day. Then, I am comforted by the fact that politicians say a whole lot of nothing every day. If I can do these rants daily, I would be a great politician. I think this qualifies me to be president. As president, I would legalize all kinds of things, and make all kinds of new things part of America. For instance, I would institute "National You Can Only Drive Your Car in Reverse While Singing Beach Boys Songs Day". I think that would be a big hit. I would also legalize the use of deadly force against army ants. There is only room for one military in this proud nation, and I feel an Ant Uprising would be harmful to my tenure as the leader of this country. I would also make reality television illegal, as it is nothing but a large false advertising campaign. I went to a beach in New Jersey, and all I saw were fat pasty white guys looking to oogle at the local women. There was also litter and a guy in a full size Elmo suit giving away free samples of an energy drink. I didn't see one orange person with a sense of entitlement larger than their balloon-like muscles. Thus, I cannot allow people to be mislead by television in such a way. Shows like Doctor Who are allowed though, as they are historically accurate, and people need to be educated about the exploits of humanity's greatest savior. Furthermore, as president of the united states(I probably should have capitalized that title, but it is too late now, for I have already moved on), I would pass a bill in which no one is allowed to name their sons Herbert, or their daughters Helga. Eventually this bill will probably encompass all names that begin with the letter "H", as I think those names are lame and don't reflect the maniless of our country in the face of the world. I would also probably paint the White House black, for racial equality, and because it would be harder for theives to see it at night, and I don't want anyone stealing my old pokemon cards.