Nobody Cares

     Have people stopped caring about Cancer… or cause bracelets?  I don’t see as many of these things around as I used to.  So either we’ve cured cancer or the fashion trend has passed us by.

     Or maybe the market just got too oversaturated.  I used to think that one color represented one issue.  Pink meant save the boobs, yellow meant you were probably down a nut, orange meant protect our midgets (they’re endangered, right?), and green was to legalize pot.  Turns out that’s not the case.  Much like dealing with an ex-girlfriend the bag of issues represented by one expression is only the tip of the iceberg.

     The marketing boom on these trendy rubber statements went from finite to flooded almost over night.  There are now 18 different colored bracelets that represent 133 different problems according to www.supportstore.com.  Let’s see Jay-Z write a rap about that! 

     Out of those 18 only 3 don’t have something to do with a specific type of cancer.  Too much, right?  To be fair tough this was kind of cancer’s thing from the start.  

     So far there is only one bracelet that has a single cause- peach.  If you’re rocking a peach colored bracelet then your down with putting an end to Uterine Cancer.  Shouldn’t that one be pink?  Never mind. 

     Maybe the way to keep the bracelets relevant is to work out a more specific way of categorization.  Take all of your cancers and put them into one bracelet.  I don’t think cancer will mind.  Then lets grab all the mental issues and give that a specific color, let’s say black.  Keep it honest.  Pink would be an insult to a guy that feels like the world has collapsed in on his soul. 

     Next we go for the physically disabled.  Blue feels right for this one.  Maybe it’s all those reserved parking spaces outside of the mall.  Not sure but let’s go with it.  Then we move on to social issues of violence and misconduct.  I was thinking green for these but that might send the wrong message.  Red would probably convey more of a “stop” feel.

     What do we do for the people with bone and blood disorders?  Well let’s give them periwinkle.  Why?  Because they’re probably going to die anyway but at least the color of their bracelet sounds happy. 

“Hey, whada ya got there?”

“It’s a periwinkle bracelet.”

“Well that sounds festive.”

“It means I’m going to die.”

“Tough luck.”

“No shit.”

     Everybody wins!

     We still have issues like blindness and eating disorders to cover.  If you can’t keep a meal down because swimsuit season is just around the corner I don’t think a rubber bracelet is going to do much in terms of correcting the problem.  No more bracelets for the bulimic/anorexic.  From now on you guys get snack packs.

     And blind people?  What’s the point in a fashion statement?  It’s a nice thought but how about something they can pick up on.  No more bracelets for them either.  From now on they get bells.  It will be their way of… cough… chiming in.  And how come blind people get a bracelet and not colorblind people?  Not seeing a thing is cause worthy but seeing the world like it was originally filmed in 1950 doesn’t count?  I call bullshit.  Get these guys a grey bracelet. 

     And last but not least we have global issues of war and peace.  Yellow has taken us this far let’s not stray from the course. 

     Any other issue, be it social or physical should probably fall under one of these as a subcategory.  If it doesn’t then tough shit, complaining doesn’t deserve a bracelet either.      

Piece In The Middle East (It’s spelled that way on purpose)

     So we beat Al Qaeda, or at the very least bombed them back to the dust age (they were already in the stone age) and now Isis pops up.  These guys make Osama’s team look like a bunch of menstruating girl scouts.  Every other week somebody is getting their head cut off or locked in a cage and set on fire.  It’s a bit extreme even for the extremists. 

     And how do we combat these atrocities?  We blow these guys up!  Think about that for a second.  Our reaction to an entire culture of people willing to die is to… blow them up.  That’s like sending twenty hookers and a Dominos pizza to their doorstep.  It’s written in their propaganda that death is the goal.  Doesn’t really seem like we’re trying to dissuade these psychos from combat.

     If we really wanted to end the war in the Middle East you know what we should drop on them?  Porn!  That’s right… porn!  In a world where every chick is dressed like a prehistoric ninja even a little ankle cleavage would be appreciated.

     You have an entire nation of men so sexually frustrated that the mere hint of imaginary vagina and some air conditioning has these guys strapping bombs to their chests and running blindly towards the afterlife.  You know who never has the urge to kill himself?  A guy who’s getting laid on a regular basis.          And some of these would-be terrorists never even make it past the practice fields.  How many went “boom” in rehearsal because it was just too damn hot outside?  Or because the thought of an exposed butt cheek made just a little bit more then C4 explode?

     Let me paint a picture here for you: An Afghan Chief goes to lowly rebel with a mission.

A.C.- Ugh!  It’s hot out!  Is it hot out or is it the five layers of black sheets I’m wearing?

R.- No, It’s hot out.  Well…  No, it’s hot. 

A.C.- Like the devil’s asshole.  Anyway, I got a mission for ya.

R.- Oh yeah?

A.C.- Yeah.  I need you to strap this bomb on your chest and blow your head off while riding a moped into that school over there.

R.- What’s in it for me?

A.C.- Well, you won’t smell like balls anymore, the afterlife has air conditioning and there’ll be about twenty chicks that all want to bang you just hanging out. 

R.- Done!

     Now let’s take the same Afghan Chief and rebel with porn in the mix.

A.C.- ….

R.- ….

     You know why they’re not talking?  Because they’re too busy jerking off. 

     Ever wonder why their goats always look so spooked?  Because there’s no porn.  If there’s a hell you come back in your next life as a goat in a terrorist controlled village of Afghanistan.  There’s an old Afghani proverb that goes, “A dead goat tells no tales but a live goat struggles just enough for a tip.”  It’s true… look it up.

     I tell ya’ the key to ending this war is draining the anger from our enemies.  Well, the anger and the semen.  Nobody is going to be able to shoot an Ak47 if it’s covered in jizz.  Nobody.           

Things Not To Say On A First Date

"The butthole is really just nature’s pez dispenser."

"I reuse my Qtips."

"Did you know that a pig’s orgasm can last up to thirty minutes?  Talk about makin bacon."

"I don’t know… I think Hitler was just really misunderstood."

"I like to spend time working with the handicapped because you can fart all day long and nobody suspects it’s you."

(Sniff)  "Mmmmm… my grandmother used to wear that same perfume."

"I don’t think of them so much as hemorrhoids but more as imperial guards for my rectal fortress."

"I can’t help but think about concentration camps on Ash Wednesday." 

"A booger should never end up as a meal but it can suffice as an acceptable snack." 

"All a man really needs in life is a good dog and a steady supply of peanut butter."

"Back when I was in Clown College…"

"You probably can’t tell but I wore a helmet until I was eight."

"For a straight guy Jesus sure hung out with a lot of dudes, don’t you think?"

"I keep a bag of toenail clippings next to my porn.  I don’t know why but it just feels right."

"It’s not gay if it happens in prison."

"Crap!  I forgot to buy more duct tape on my way here." (Then makes a sad face)

"Can you imagine how funny kids would look with pubes?"

"I’m not allowed near grammar schools."

"I used a bidet once.  I thought it was a water fountain."

"An adult diaper holds a lot more then you would think."