Greetings from OBX

This goes out to my friends at the Blue Whale,  keeping their sense of humor amongst the maddening waves of tourists…

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There are so many ways we greet each other every day.  We all have our favorites.

How are you, how’s it going, what’s going on, how’s it hanging, what’s going down, what’s up, what do you know, morning, evening, and the laziest one,  sup.

What I find the most fascinating is that we usually never get an answer, or if someone else does say something we are not listening.  If you are a guy,  you normally get a head nod as a reply, or perhaps a grunt.  Both are sufficient in the male world, as no one wants to talk anyway.  My personal favorite occurred when I was young, when an old timer would come in and say “What’s the good word?”  This freaked me out as I felt compelled to come up with a really good word.  It put instant pressure on me to have one handy every time I saw this guy.  And certainly I could not come back with just “purple”  or  “soup”.   It had to be a good word, didn’t it ?  And who was the keeper of the “good” words versus the average ones.   I studied up over the next week,  prepared to bedazzle the old geezer the next time I saw him.   I had a list of over 1,000 words ready to go, figuring this would be enough before the gnarled old crust dropped dead.    There he was,  “What’s the good word?”   I hit him with antiestablishmentatiarianism and I never saw him again..   Rumor has it that his new greeting was changed to sup.

The key here is to get people thinking,  wake them out of their daze and slumber.   My latest project is to have retort ready at the Blue Whale every time I walk in with a how’s it going and the return volley is “can’t complain”.   The age old reply is that you could, but no one would listen.   That is where I disagree.  I think you should complain, but at least come up with something original.    Anyone can complain about the economy or Obama or aliens taking over the planet.    Tell us what is on your mind at that moment.  Make it personal and make it disturbing so everyone in that room will remember you.  I would rather go out as that strange guy that complained about chafing in the crotch than saying nothing at all and fading into the sunset.   Tell someone that you don’t think the earth is wide enough, or you wish you had an extra layer of skin that you would call the nostradermis,  and if you had it, you could tell the future.  Say something to get others to scratch their heads, or at least call 911 as soon as you leave the room.

Got a complaint ?   I am here to listen, and can provide a suitable solution in fifty words or less, provided your complaint does not have the word Ebola in it..  That would probably take me 75 words….

The Christmas Card – Part 2

Just in time for the 4th of July,  I give you the conclusion of the Christmas Card.  When we left off we had just read about the accomplishments of our once thought dead friend,  causing us to re-evaluate our own year of world altering contributions.

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After an hour of soul-searching and eating a bag of Doritos,  here is my list of good doings last year..

–  Taught my neighbor’s kid how to shoot rats

–   Figured out how to live with a social disease.

–   Cheated on my taxes and got away with it until the prison sentence

–    Was the lead singer in the prison choir

–    Found out that putting my hand in a moving ceiling fan does not hurt as much as I thought, and helps with living with the social disease

–    Set a plan in motion with the help of fellow community leaders and politicians to form an initiative that would gather and create focus groups to collaborate together in unison as one and with each other to make sure all were unified and had a common goal.  We met twice a month and made some groundbreaking decisions on how to further ourselves while screwing over the rest of the village.

–    Finally you cannot end a productive year without some holiday cheer and merriment.  I started a new tradition called “Caroling without Pants.”  Me and a few friends began by knocking down a few eggnogs by the gallon and were filled with so much yuletide frivolity that we had to spread it to the town.  (The frivolity, not the eggnog) .  Nothing screams seasons greetings louder than “Good King Wenceslas”  with your testicles exposed.

At least I was consistent, start the year in prison, end it in prison.

So the next time you get that fat envelope in green or red from someone you did not know was alive,  burn it, burn it, burn it, and go show your nephew how to shoot rats.