Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Everything I do today will be big a few years from now. There's no stopping me.

Updates on ME!  

In case you were starting to doubt that I am one of the elemental forces of nature originally laid out by Aristotle as governing the universe (the four are Fire, Water, Me, and "McGriddles"), here is proof that every single thing I do is destined to shape humanity, almost as much as Star Wars does.

First, the other day, the "Car Talk" podcast (I only noticed it because it was advertised on my other podcasts.  I don't listen to it because I don't care about cars.  I don't understand them, I don't want to understand them, I barely pay attention to them even when driving) the Car Talk podcast came out with its title as "A Bad Case Of Witzelsucht." I don't know what they talked about (see previous parentheses) but those of you who used to read my sports blog (P.T. Dilloway) will remember that back in 2010 I published my annual Nongift! Nonguide! for holiday shopping, and titled it "Have A Witzelsucht Holiday Season!"

"Witzelsucht" was back then a brand-new condition, and I had devoted the intro to my annual guide to helping "raise awareness" (i.e. "doing nothing but feeling good about it") via this public service announcement introduction:

The following is a special announcement brought to you by Nonsportsmanlike Conduct:

Do you suffer from the pain of Witzelsucht?

Don't be so quick to answer. You may be a victim of Witzelsucht and not even know it. Take this short quiz to see if you are in need of medical help:


I suffer from Witzelsucht: A. True. B. False.

If you answered a, then you likely suffer from Witzelsucht. If you answered b then you are trying to bluff your way through this quiz without admitting you have a problem. And if you answered I'm okay with them touching my junk then you should fly out of Los Angeles airport, where the TSA screeners are all hunky.

Witzelsucht can strike anybody, anywhere -- and this debilitating condition is growing ever more common. This disease, first defined in 2005, causes its victims to tell "inappropriate or poor jokes." Consider this horrifying story from medical researchers:
A 2005 case study describes a 57-year-old woman who suddenly morphed into a more gregarious version of herself. "She had become the life of the party and would laugh, joke, and sing all the time."
And it doesn't just affect the person with the disease: as is so common today, especially in America, we're all victims:

As [one researcher] explains, the jokiness "can be annoying to family and caregivers, (but) it is usually not a terrible problem."

So now, go back and take that quiz again, and engage in some reflection. Do you tell inappropriate jokes? Do you giggle uncontrollably every time you imagine an egg freaking out because a potato can talk?
A potato and an egg are boiling in water, at some monastery kitchen, when the the potato says "zeeez it sure is hot in here", then the egg says "ahhh this potato can speak".
Have you ever laughed at Family Circus? As you can see, this disease is more wide-spread than you imagined, and unlike malaria, which at least has rich people creating tiny Death Stars to fight it, there is no telethon, there is no charity fundraiser, there is no guest appearance by Leonardo DiCaprio, to help the suffering witzelsuchters.

So as we enter this holiday season, please, be aware of the problem, and listen, at the office parties and family gatherings and lines waiting for mall Santas, and when you hear a bad joke, take a moment to pause and say to yourself "Man, I wish I had the kind of job where I could get paid for coming up with stupid names to describe boorish behavior."

Helping come up with something that some unemployed auto mechanics could plagiarize four years later isn't the only way I 'give back' to society/work off my community service.  I also am sort of a Demigod Of Fashion.

For years now I have worn colorful, some would say "crazy" (air quotes intended) socks.  This began when I decided that I didn't want to match my socks to my outfit anymore because honestly this has to stop somewhere, people.  We need to lighten up.  I was once told that the shade of burgundy (note: not actually a color, the guy meant "purplish-red") of my tie didn't quite match the shade of burgundy (see previous parentheses) of my shirt, and that's when I snapped and decided that I was going to 'take it to the streets' as it were by never ever matching my socks to my outfit again.  

That actually then changed into "I would like funny or unique socks," and so now I have Star Wars socks (of course), taco socks, fox socks (but no sock foxes!)(SOCK FOXES SHOULD BE A THING WHY ISN'T THAT ALREADY?)... focus... and so on.  

I just thought I was being "me" and that this was just something that made my life a bit easier and more fun.  I didn't know that I was practically Ryan Gosling and that the entire world was following my lead... my sexy, fashionable lead, as pointed out by Huffington Post the other day; in an article on how men could be stylish without spending a lot of money, the HuffPo advised people to wear colorful or crazy socks to be stylish and 'drive the ladies crazy'. (That last part was implied.)

So there you have it: whether you want a fancy German word for why you think Garfield is funny or whether you just want an excuse to not sort your sock drawer out, I am here for you.

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