I do not Think this comprises Geeky.

I will be the first to admit, I love ThinkGeek. I will also admit that I'm currently operating on an alcohol-fueled delirium, but I don't think that has a significant impact on what I'm about to say.

Right. I was talking about a website. Generally, they have an amazing selection of niche products that you may or may not find elsewhere. I own an incredible set of "Whiskey stones" - granite stones carved in the shape of ice cubes to provide the smoothness of a scotch served on the rocks, but the erotic slap of a glass served neat. It's quite incredible and really accelerates me to a slobbering mess on the floor when I mean business at a breath-taking rate. 

HOWEVER. It's not all sunshine and lollipop-farts and unicorn semen in Candyland. I received their periodic newsletter this evening, and came across THIS.

This absolutely is what you think it is.

If I had to guess, I would say that he is chewing on a deep fried racoon's head stuffed with lasagna.

If only the words describing my feelings towards this came as easily to my mouth as his dinner does to his. This isn't geeky. It utterly debases geeks. This corpulent consumer displays such blatant overindulgence that I just want to die. This is the epitome of what our culture has become.

I'm done. I quit. 

But at least he's playing a Wii to work off those calories. 

42, and other important life questions.

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I'm at it again.

Concerned my blog may have taken a turn for the philosophical, I felt compelled to touch base with the intended purpose of this blog.

I've broken out the tools, and what started as tearing apart an old stereo to quickly fix a speaker wire lead, turned into pure, unadulterated innovation.

I used a small pair of car speakers I had laying around to test if my repair had in fact, repaired the stereo. Sitting next to the small speakers happened to be a decorative box for a rather expensive bottle of scotch (to answer the question nagging those of you keeping tally, yes, scotch is my lifeblood.) illustrated thusly:

The decorative box, as it lays among the casualties of electrical repair war.

The seized and corroded gears in my head made a valiant effort to spin to accommodate inspiration. Instead, this is what transpired:

  

John Walker would be proud.
It would be more convincing if his portrait was actually facing the project, I admit.

It will soon find a home as the centre speaker for my surround sound system. I find it very classy and representative of my crippling alcoholism! ha, ha!

A compendium of love-facts.

As I sit in my exquisite giraffe-leather couch, sipping on single malt of such a primordial vintage that language hadn't yet been invented, I am gripped by distress so fundamental to my being that it is a wonder I am able to suppress it to any degree. Allow me to elaborate.

Life isn't easy. Allow me to elaborate further. I was born with a crippling affliction. I was born a healthy white male. Consequently, life has been intrinsically more difficult for me relative to, say, a transsexual amputee minority practising Satanism. (Excuse my tangible envy for such an affable lifestyle.) 

I digress, the hardships in my life are intractable; the societal pressures laid upon me, unyielding. Allow me to share some of the struggles I endure ceaselessly. 

• Do I wear a beard or maintain an immaculately shorn facial state?
• Is it only gay if the balls touch?
• Am I really, statistically, among the worst drivers on the road?
• Must I seriously wear my collar popped to maintain a state of social acceptance?
• Should I maintain a healthy romantic relationship?
• Would I like fries with that? 
• ..and much more!

Keen readers sympathetic to the strife of the young white male will immediately recognize what is inarguably the most distressing challenge in the preceding list. I speak of course, of the imposing nature of relationship status in a young man's life. Evidence cromulently embiggens us everywhere we look; it is a relentless assault on our senses:

Diamond commercials stress the directly proportional correlation between love and consumerism.

Movies and TV subsist almost exclusively on love stories.

Whiny, entitled top40 artists moan incessantly about love. (Is it any coincidence that a vast majority of them are young, white males?)

I could go on, but I shan't skylark about all day. I will get to the beef and potatoes; I am here to shatter the paradigm of love and relationships. I will dig deep and investigate the principles of being in a relationship, and superimpose on it my findings of those for being single. I will include an insightful epilogue of my journey, but ultimately leave discretion of my analysis to my faithful readers.

The Utterly Objective Benefits of Sustaining a Relationship

• Unmitigated access to a sentient organism capable of scratching your itchy back; followed by application of a soothing lotion as a preventative measure.
• The security of having a rock-solid alibi in the event you decide to commit murder, stipulated by the condition that you did last night's dishes by the time you left for work this morning. Did you?
• Monthly financial savings equalling roughly $2,385.00 as the necessity of keeping a prostitute on retainer becomes obsolete.
• Comfort accommodated by the obligation of a human, possessing the corresponding reproductive equipment to yours, to laugh at your uninspired and frankly obnoxious jokes.
  Corollary: The very same person is also implored to feign interest in your purposeless, ineffectual life and STILL have sex with you anyways.
• Consolation that you'll never need to worry about a potential future of living as a vegetable on life support, because you just know she'll advocate euthanasia in this instance. Can you blame her? That insurance policy is looking juicier than ever.

That sounds great, why would I want to be single? I'm practically sold.

Slow down, you slobby tiger. Let's investigate the practical benefits of being single.

• You answer to no one. You are the master of your domain. If your back itches, your vagina probably does too, Sally. Suck it up.
• You don't have to worry about being investigated for murder, because the only person who could possibly drive you to kill is a significant other.
• Money doesn't travel with you when you die. If it doesn't exist solely to spend, then what is doing existing at all?
• You pay that premium for a reason. You think that kind of cheddar doesn't afford you some convincing laughs on top of business?
• Life support isn't so bad; after all, you've spent your life getting screwed by The Man and all of your peers, might as well take the opportunity to dispense some retribution. Nothing spells justice like riding the taxpayer's coin while rotting away in front of soap operas with bad reception.

As you can see, the single life is a worthy contender in this philosophical dispute of the heart. The way I look at it, is until you manage to find a lady who you are willing to compromise your life's ambitions for, and who in turn is willing to settle for a lazy idiot with a poor attitude like you, I don't see any immediate urgency to settle down. Life's short, but not too short that you couldn't benefit from wandering through it on your own for a while. Don't force it and you'll be a lot happier in the end. 

A consequent dilemma of the matter is whether or not you've found a suitable potential mate. I've compiled a short checklist that you can consult in the event you find yourself in an ambiguous romantic stalemate. I've given it an applicable and altogether original title:

She's Just Not That In To You If...

• You caress her neck gently and find no evidence of a pulse.
• You are caught rummaging through her delicates-drawer after a grievous miscalculation in the schedule of your love interest after months of surreptitious "romantic observation" hidden the bushes outside her apartment.
• You are fat and/or ugly. Sometimes these things just aren't subjective.
• The only way you can get her attention is to cut her brake lines and swoop in as the heroic saviour after a devastating car crash leaves her paralysed and unable to reject your tender advances.
• You find yourself caught in a temporal anomaly wherein the evolution of humanity took a drastically different direction, and your reproductive organs are no longer fundamentally compatible with hers.

Happy hunting, lovebirds!  

I think I may have stumbled across a brilliant plan.

Browsing through my standard daily website updates, I stumbled across a geek who tossed some bluetooth junk in an old helicopter helmet for busting up other nerds in war games on his PS3. Inspired, I thought I could re-purpose this idea into a use that isn't shamelessly nerdy. In fact, I suspect that it is objectively bad-ass.


Yes, I'm talking of course of motorcycle helmets. In a dazzling display of selflessness, I've even taken it upon myself to provide my faithful readers with options.

Last but obviously not least, the exquisite and requisite comedy option.

What is even more tantalizing is the prospect of how animately my brain would explode in the event of even a minor impact, as a direct result of what I imagine are helmets completely ineffective for my proposed purpose.

Oh yeah.

 I spent long enough on this that I cannot be bothered to format this post with any degree of aesthetic value.

Content Generation Happy Fun Times!

I've taken it upon myself to do a little bit of interwebs research. My goal? Find out what potential readers are on the lookout for when they are contemplating the perusal of a new blog. The unlikely answer?

Content.

Curious to learn more about this evasive concept, I engaged in a delicate fandango with the lusty mistress Google. Within seconds, I was sliding my throbbing search term deftly into her eager text field. In the heat of the moment, I forgot to wear a Boolean on my engorged expression. 

"content -n: something that is to be expressed through some medium, as speech, writing, or any of various arts."

If I'm reading this correctly, and I'm probably not, people visit blogs to be entertained?! My dear readers*, please collect your monocles which have most certainly dislodged themselves in a comical fashion. It shouldn't come as such a crippling shock; the fact that you're reading** this implicates you as one of those people desperately yearning for content.

I always say that I am keenly devoted to making strangers smile***. As such, I implore you to pore over some links I've delicately prepared for you****.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GorqroigqM

This is "The Story of Stuff." It's a quick summary of some of the negative impacts of consumer culture.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YqU9lr9G-0&feature=player_embedded

This is a full 2-hour long documentary on the horrible and embarrassing events that unfolded during the G20 summit in Toronto.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbh5l0b2-0o

Athene's Theory of Everything. Yeah, that about sums it up.

It's actually very depressing if you spend too much time thinking about the state of society and humanity right now.

*There's none.

**You're not.

***I'm not. 

****Me.