I HOPE someone brought enough CHANGE to buy a trash bag.

The entire staff of the restaurant gathered near the kitchen. In unison they began clapping. Clap! clap! clap! clap! This call to arms went on for at least a full minute, attracting even more perky young people in loud polyester shirts. When the ranks had swollen to well over twenty, they began walking. Clap! clap! clap! clap! clap! clap! clap! clap! Now they weren’t just clapping. They were also randomly shouting things like “woo”. Woo, and other words that sounded sort of Mexican-ish, that i don’t know how to spell. Like that high-pitched trilly throat thing that you always hear when there’s a Mariachi band in the area. For lack of the proper term, we’ll just call it a “dldldldldldldl!!!!!!” So now the restaurant staff has mutated into a terrifying demonic army on the march. Clap! clap! clap! Woooooo! clap! clap! clap! dldldldldldldl!!!!! clap! clap! WwoooooooooooWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! clap! clap!

I don’t understand why my high-chair bound son was not mortally afraid, but he wasn’t. He just watched with the same facial expression I display when there’s a good documentary on. The Army of Doom marched until they found their victim- 40 year-old Marsha Kaputnik of Oakhurst. Marsha grinned with sheer joy the whole time, like an Orc at an all-you-can-eat Hobbit buffet. She actually not only approved of this, but she even enjoyed it. The Army belched out their rendition of some type of lawsuit-proof corporate “Festive Birthday ™(c)(r)” tune.  You know, every restaurant that performs this ridiculous humiliating ritual must have its own contrived song so they won’t be sued by other restaurant chains, or God forbid, the fabled and feared copyright owner of the tune “Happy Birthday”.

We spent precisely 60 minutes at the restaurant.  In that period of time, it happened not once, not twice.  Six times.  I am perplexed that that many people who all share the same birthday in the same town all decided to eat at the same restaurant on the same tuesday night.  At that rate, there must be 21.8 quadrillion people in this town (population 500,000) who were born on the same day.  How’s that for a statistical anomaly?

Trying to reason this out is futile, as the paradoxes are staggering.  This is a new restaurant in a relatively upscale part of town.  It’s not a really expensive place, but it isn’t a dive either.  Therefore, people who go there must have a fair amount of money.  Dessert is free for birthday victims, but it’s just a crappy Sopapilla with some goo on it.  How much could that possibly cost?  “Aha! People are telling the Orcs it’s their birthday when it really isn’t, just so they can get the free dessert!  Case closed!”  You might say to me.  Nope, that doesn’t fly.  Why would someone spend $20 per person on dinner, and be too cheap to buy the $1.97 dessert?  Not only that, but why would they intentionally subject themselves to the Serenade of the Damned on top of it all?

I propose wide-sweeping reform in the industry.  From now on when some jackass so much as hints that it might be his birthday, he should have his clothes shredded off with a box knife, be hog tied, and forced to eat Alpo from a urinal in the center of the restaurant.  That should serve to fulfill the idiot’s massochistic fantasies until next year.

10 Reasons Why Being a Lazy Dude is Actually a Good Thing

By Seamus Anthony

I have always been a very Lazy Dude, and in fact I come from a long line of them. But the way I see it, laziness is in fact a Godly virtue.

(read more at Rebel Zen)

Can’t say I agree 100% with all of the points, but I’m too lazy to decide what my reasoning is for that.

(However, I especially agree with Points Ocho, Niner, and Ten. Good stuff.)

We make a Virtue of “getting after it”…. being a “hard-charger” and all that shit AND all that shit entails. For what? (More like for whom. ) Before you answer, “The Man”, think about this. We might do it because we think it is expected of us by everyone else. The point is, we  may value “hard-charging” as a Virtue without giving thought to why we value it.

And what’s wrong with that?? Questioning shit means it might not stand up to scrutiny, don’tcha know. The whole of Creation might collapse if someone realizes “the Emperor is butt-ass nekkid”. Don’t question shit, Dude!

Here’s the deal. We might be missing out because we are trying to please those who, like us, wish they could be a lazy-ass. Could be, everyone wants to “take it easy”, but is afraid that by taking it easy they will let down all the other people who secretly want to take it easy, too. We might also fear that by “taking it easy”, someone who wants to “grind it out” might get ahead of us. Can’t have that can we?

Shit. That would make it all about fear. Could be that fear is propping up the system, Dude!

Somewhere an old, uptight white-dude is laughing his arse off. (That would be “The Man”.)

Mark Twain

Seriously?
I think that trend started with 8-and-under girls’ soccer teams in suburban Chicago. maybe not Chicago, but definitely some place with lots of yankees who talk with ridiculous accents. and maybe not 8-and-under girls’ soccer teams, but definitely with female sports teams.

Here are some real-world silly sports team names:
Shock
Rush
Fever
Heat
Force
Wave
Liberty

The other annoying aspect to the new generation of sports team names is instead of a verb used as a noun as in “the Scorch,” the teams are being named after concepts like the “Liberty.” what’s intimidating about liberty? first off, it’s a concept and not an object, person, or animal that one would be afraid of.  The idea behind naming a sports team is to instill fear and uncertainty in one’s opponent in order to gain a slight psychological advantage.  At least that’s the way it’s been for billions of years.  Maybe in the spirit of the “Liberty,” some teams might consider these monikers:

The Bloat
The Scurvy
The Inconvenience
The Mild Dyslexia
The Acute Sinusitis
The Edema
The Trepidation

I think I should be crowned the World-wide Overseer of team names.  I can tell you right now, that girls 8-and-under soccer would never be the same again:

The Bubonic Bitches
The Tentacles of Doom
The Nuclear Winter
The Plague
The Bloody Flaming Skulls
Satanic Wermacht
The Electric Enemas
The Rotting Corpses
The Syphilitic Pork Swords
The Battle Axe Death Squad
The Pustules
The Rancid Cadavers
The Putrid Stench

]]> http://bouyism.wordpress.com/2008/11/26/random-shot-sports-team-names/feed/ 0 Cleotis http://bouyism.wordpress.com/2008/11/26/hello-world/ http://bouyism.wordpress.com/2008/11/26/hello-world/#comments Wed, 26 Nov 2008 14:34:44 +0000 Cleotis ]]> What is Bouyism?  Well, it’s the pursuit of being a Bouy.  It has nothing to do with nautical navigational markers, although we do tend to float about aimlessly collecting barnacles and bird poop. 

]]> http://bouyism.wordpress.com/2008/11/26/hello-world/feed/ 2 Cleotis