What’s better than a girlfriend? Women will tell you a boyfriend. A married man will tell you a dog. Everyone else will tell you two girlfriends, and I’m inclined to believe that.
See, this isn’t hard to prove; something is better than nothing, so two somethings must be better than one something. It works for so many things: hotdogs, guns, sexual partners. But there’s no challenge in proving this.
For today’s blog entry, I’m going to prove that two of anything is always better than just one, even bad things. See, no one has a problem with hotdogs, guns or sex. But what if you find yourself in one of life’s many “God, I wish I just never have____” moments? Nothing was better than something shitty, correct? Or can two wrongs make a right?
First up are car crashes. Jesus Christ these suck, and most importantly, are pretty likely. I’m not going to use far-out examples like clubbing baby seals or snorting coke of a stripper’s ass since you guys are pedestrian as fuck and don’t live my life. So, yes. Car crashes. Let’s say you rear-end someone. That sucks and it’s all your fault. But what if you collided with two cars? What if you hit one guy, but they hit the second guy, but then that guy hits you? Well then you can at least have a prayer of a chance of not getting stuck with the hot potato of blame. Besides, if a situation like that happened, then road conditions must have favored it. Black ice, hit two people, act of God, pass GO, collect $200.
Or how about a major financial institution going belly up? Let’s say only Freddie Mac choked on its own vomit. Ok, that’s pretty bad. Why should you suffer while your emotionally stunted neighbor still gets to live her incredibly lonely, cat-filled existence in a house? But thankfully, Fannie Mae, Leman Bros. and a whole cadre of other assholes went under. Now everyone’s screwed, together! That makes me feel a little better. Besides, this whole situation is so massive, a system that is as colossally fucked up ours really needed a cleansing fire. The old, disease filled trees of the insurance forest needed to burn so financially responsible saplings can take root. Of course millions of little squirrels will be flambéed (no bitching; remember I’m in the same situation as all of you) but if this is what it takes so that houses finally become affordable again, then it can’t be all that bad.
Don’t you just fucking hate the Olson twins? Here they are summing up their career: “Oh hey, we were born, then we’re on Full House. Wasn’t that show great? Then…we did about 15 movies for Disney that all revolve around the same 3 plots. Then we disappeared for a while but we weren’t like totally gone, like our dad invested our money into a really shitty clothing line…and hey! Now we are legal so people care about us again!” They are Lindsay Lohan, Miley Sirus Hillary Duff, all those bitches rolled into one times two. And you know what? Good. That means their faults are doubled too. Remember when one went into rehab for being anorexic (or on coke)? Or when Heath Ledger died in one of their apartments? I can’t remember which Olson twin was involved with what situation but it doesn’t matter. Since they built a shallow, superficial career on being two people, they are stuck together for life. Forever will they be a rich, bitchy albatross hung around each other’s neck, amplifying each other’s faults and shortcomings, and that makes for good, mindless TV viewing for the rest of us
The Devil sent 5 Guys to Earth to punish human beings. Those burgers…shit. Something that delicious has to be bad for you. Eating those things make my chest hurt. But what if…you are Major Alan “Dutch” Schaefer, traveling through the dense Guatemalan jungle to rescue captured CIA agents, but as you trek forward, a cloaked, IR seeing, reptilian humanoid alien stalks and brutally murders all your compatriots? And for 2 days straight you’re just running through the jungle while fighting this fucking thing, and you’re like “fuck…I am HUNGRY!” You look around and find in, shit I don’t know, an old log or something, a bag with two 5 Guys burgers with a buttload of fries. You’d eat both, wouldn’t you? And the fries. With gusto. The same question applies with two Blooming Onions, Death by Chocolates, and Deep-Fried Turduckens. If you’re going to have a heart attack you might as well fucking enjoy it, amirite?
See, this isn’t hard to prove; something is better than nothing, so two somethings must be better than one something. It works for so many things: hotdogs, guns, sexual partners. But there’s no challenge in proving this.
For today’s blog entry, I’m going to prove that two of anything is always better than just one, even bad things. See, no one has a problem with hotdogs, guns or sex. But what if you find yourself in one of life’s many “God, I wish I just never have____” moments? Nothing was better than something shitty, correct? Or can two wrongs make a right?
First up are car crashes. Jesus Christ these suck, and most importantly, are pretty likely. I’m not going to use far-out examples like clubbing baby seals or snorting coke of a stripper’s ass since you guys are pedestrian as fuck and don’t live my life. So, yes. Car crashes. Let’s say you rear-end someone. That sucks and it’s all your fault. But what if you collided with two cars? What if you hit one guy, but they hit the second guy, but then that guy hits you? Well then you can at least have a prayer of a chance of not getting stuck with the hot potato of blame. Besides, if a situation like that happened, then road conditions must have favored it. Black ice, hit two people, act of God, pass GO, collect $200.
Or how about a major financial institution going belly up? Let’s say only Freddie Mac choked on its own vomit. Ok, that’s pretty bad. Why should you suffer while your emotionally stunted neighbor still gets to live her incredibly lonely, cat-filled existence in a house? But thankfully, Fannie Mae, Leman Bros. and a whole cadre of other assholes went under. Now everyone’s screwed, together! That makes me feel a little better. Besides, this whole situation is so massive, a system that is as colossally fucked up ours really needed a cleansing fire. The old, disease filled trees of the insurance forest needed to burn so financially responsible saplings can take root. Of course millions of little squirrels will be flambéed (no bitching; remember I’m in the same situation as all of you) but if this is what it takes so that houses finally become affordable again, then it can’t be all that bad.
Don’t you just fucking hate the Olson twins? Here they are summing up their career: “Oh hey, we were born, then we’re on Full House. Wasn’t that show great? Then…we did about 15 movies for Disney that all revolve around the same 3 plots. Then we disappeared for a while but we weren’t like totally gone, like our dad invested our money into a really shitty clothing line…and hey! Now we are legal so people care about us again!” They are Lindsay Lohan, Miley Sirus Hillary Duff, all those bitches rolled into one times two. And you know what? Good. That means their faults are doubled too. Remember when one went into rehab for being anorexic (or on coke)? Or when Heath Ledger died in one of their apartments? I can’t remember which Olson twin was involved with what situation but it doesn’t matter. Since they built a shallow, superficial career on being two people, they are stuck together for life. Forever will they be a rich, bitchy albatross hung around each other’s neck, amplifying each other’s faults and shortcomings, and that makes for good, mindless TV viewing for the rest of us
The Devil sent 5 Guys to Earth to punish human beings. Those burgers…shit. Something that delicious has to be bad for you. Eating those things make my chest hurt. But what if…you are Major Alan “Dutch” Schaefer, traveling through the dense Guatemalan jungle to rescue captured CIA agents, but as you trek forward, a cloaked, IR seeing, reptilian humanoid alien stalks and brutally murders all your compatriots? And for 2 days straight you’re just running through the jungle while fighting this fucking thing, and you’re like “fuck…I am HUNGRY!” You look around and find in, shit I don’t know, an old log or something, a bag with two 5 Guys burgers with a buttload of fries. You’d eat both, wouldn’t you? And the fries. With gusto. The same question applies with two Blooming Onions, Death by Chocolates, and Deep-Fried Turduckens. If you’re going to have a heart attack you might as well fucking enjoy it, amirite?
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