#7 - Pollution

The title of this post is a lie. I hate pollution. There is nothing worse than waking up in the morning, going outside, and seeing a band of hazy brown smog on the horizon. It makes me want to throw up. This is why I can never live in LA or New York. My ideal local would be in the middle of an aspen forest deep in the Rocky Mountains, or possibly a hidden village filled with idealistic scientists on a tropical jungle, like the island on Lost before Ben killed everyone with poison gas. Which, oddly enough, is precisely what pollution is.

If I was an Olympic athlete I would be boycotting the Beijing games right now just on the grounds of preventing irrevocable respiratory harm to international competitors. I guess the upside would be that I would probably have a better chance of beating everyone who does compete next time, after all that nasty Beijing pollution settles in their lungs and gives them chronic emphysema. But would it be worth it, to come out ahead at the price of harm to so many others? I mean, I know 18 million other people live in Beijing, but only about 2 of them are competing in the 400m hurdles. The rest of them can go about their normal, masked, coughing, polluted lives, because this is their home. The athletes are just visiting, and they deserve the best air in the world for three weeks.

#6 - Proving how much fun I am by staging pictures for Facebook

When a young person reaches the age of about 23 or 24, they realize that the care-free world they grew up in really isn't suitable for young adults such as themselves anymore. They have to get this terribly time-consuming thing called a 'job', starting dressing semi-professionally, or even worse, start to feel the effects of what is collectively known as 'old age'. 'Old age' is primarily exhibited by working more than 40 hours a week, refusing to hang out on weekdays later than 10pm, making car payments, or spending more than two consecutive weekends 'resting'.

The best way to prove to all your hip, youthful friends that you are in fact getting more awesome with age is to take spectacular pictures of your exploits and post them all over Facebook, traditionally with as many people tagged in them as possible. Not only will this garner the most exposure for your photographic evidence, but people might starting talking about their horrible facial expressions or how huge your beard is getting. It's a win-win, because all the while they are drawing more attention to pictures where you are either doing something incredibly heroic, looking incredibly baddass, or are surrounded by throngs of good-looking people. If none of these situations are feasible, do not despair: just photoshop it.

#5 - Making fun of Guitar Hero

Vince and I came up with a good one a few months ago called "Hip Hop Hero" (featuring two microphones, turntables, and a pistol), but I think this takes the cake:

#4 - Making the Boy Scouts sound like serving in the Special Forces

On 12 July, 2001, I was stationed with Troop 44 at Gold Lake, CA, under the command of SPL Cameron T. Fan. I was ordered to lead a patrol of new recruits out for a night recon and astrometrical viewing, and to return to base at 0800 the next morning. Scout 1st Class Michael Bauld took point in Canoe 1 with Scout 2nd Class Brendon Lim, while I took rear guard with several Tenderfoots (yes, the plural form of Tenderfoot is not Tenderfeet, that just sounds stupid). We left base in a standard line formation, guarding the middle canoe containing Scoutmaster William T. Bauld, Esq, and our GPS and communications equipment. At 2130 we approached the unnamed atoll. S1C Bauld made first landing, while Canoe 2 covered the beach head with suppression splashes from their dual aluminum paddles.

The rest of the mission was completely uneventful, but when I list out our ranks and troop positions it makes it sound like we probably had night vision googles and M4s straped on our backs. Which we would have, if given a choice. Being in the scouts for seven years makes me think that given the opportunity, I could pull a Bear Grylls and survive in the wilderness with nothing more than a waterbottle and a knife. And there's some truth to it. We got a lot of good training and preparation that would have served us well if ANY of the kids I knew in the scouts had gone into the army. I like mentioning that an Eagle Scout that enlists in the US armed forces is given an automatic promotion to E2 grade upon graduating from basic training. Also one time we waterboarded a kid for failing a uniform inspection.

Kidding...

#3 - Biscuits and Gravy

About 300 years ago, in Carter's Grove, VA, Elizabeth Carter was setting the table for dinner when a freak summer storm knocked out the kerosine lamps and caused her to spill a pitcher of sausage gravy all over a tin of fresh baked biscuits. But her husband Robert was a pragmatic, sensible man, and refused to throw out two of his favorite food groups (they are part of the Plantation Food Pentagon, along with Tobacco, Honey Baked Ham, and Malibu Coconut-Flavored Rum). And so the great southern comfort food was born, bringing good cheer and heart disease to millions.

If you happen on occasion to be having breakfast in the company of Richard, mention how much you love biscuits and gravy, or how you discovered them late in life and regret missing out on them your entire childhood. Richard will instantly be able to relate to you, and may follow your story with his own tale of discovering his lost heritage during a trip to the Tidewater area.

#2 - The phrase "the cat is out of the bag"

I love secrets. I love keeping them. I love finding them out. But one thing I love more than secrets is dramatically revealing them when the time is right. Nothing is more awesome than putting on a big show and surprising everyone with a fantastic revelation. When Tony Stark put on a press conference after blowing up his factory in LA, nobody expected anything more than the standard industry/government cover-up story. But Tony walked up on that stage with a huge burlap sack, opened it up in front of the cameras, and a Tabby in a red and gold armored exoskeleton flew out and shot Obadiah Stone square in the dome with a Hellfire missile. Actually that probably would have been slightly less awesome that what really happened, because feline's normally don't speak enough English to say "I AM IRONMAN" the way Robert Downey Jr does. But I digress. If I ever move into a large house with a strict landlord, I will probably let them know that I'm breaking their rules about pets by bringing in a cat in a grocery bag and handing it to them along with the milk and cereal.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I like the imagery of cats in bags more than the actual phrase. It's a great figure of speech, and I use it as often as possible. But there is something intrinsically hilarious about a house cat in a pillow case, as I discovered as a child before our cat Lucy started running out of the room every time I walked in.

#1 - Easy-to-use websites

So about two minutes ago I had the brilliant revelation to make a blog based on the likes and dislikes of a very exclusive demographic I belong to. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I guess. Plus I haven't logged into Xanga in about three years, and I've probably forgotten my password the same way I forgot everything I learned in that Fluid Dynamics course I was taking back then.

But enough chit-chat and reminiscing about college. It took literally 30 seconds to create this blog using my gmail account. That's the way the interweb is supposed to be. My ideas should be able to go from my head to the entire world in 8.2 seconds flat using ultra-fast fiber-optic connections. Seriously. I'm pretty sure Al Gore said something to that effect when he invented it back in 1992. I'm with you, Al. And apparently so is blogspot.