There’s a secret cabal of people in this world that would make the illuminati and freemasons shit their pants. Instead of relying on bloodlines and whatever nonsense hazing rituals that go on in frat houses, Mensa has only one requirement for joining: you need to be in the 98th percentile of intelligence. Illuminati’s Johnny Hemophiliac or David Pissdrinker of Skull and Bones aren’t really kicking ass in the brains department (Mensa members know where a brain’s ass is). But they are lucky. Remember in the first sentence I used the word “would”? I snuck into a Mensa meeting and I must say, the 25 people who run the entire world don’t have to worry about anyone muscling in on their turf.These meetings are a joke. What’s the point of all this brain power if all you do with it is pontificate about NOTHING and make terrible puns in a library conference room? Shit, build a bomb and hold the east coast hostage or something.
It’s true; you need to be smart to enter a Mensa meeting. You just don’t need to be a fucking genius. Here’s how you sneak in. There are two ways:
1) Go to Google. Type in “Mensa ID card”. Send it to your photoshop expert friend. Have him touch it up with your pic and info. Print it out. Laminate it.
2) Show up to a meeting wearing nice clothes; think Eddie Bauer casual business. BS your way in. When speaking, don’t use contractions.
These meetings were a complete load. Here are the minutes.
7:33 PM: The meeting officially starts 3 minutes late. There are 20 of us sitting at a table in a room meant for maybe 8. A middle aged man who looks like he’s never kissed a girl, aka, John Mark Karr, suggests we call ourselves “tardines”; one person sorta chuckles. He meant it to sound like a combination of “tardiness” and “sardines”. I wonder if he realized it sounded more like a retarded person being ironic by making fun of other retarded people.
7:40 PM: The fat guy in the room (which one? har har) keeps asking where the “brain balls” are. His 5-year-old-at-Disney-Land giddiness erupts into audible squeals when the group is finally presented with a box of donut holes. Relax, dude. They’re just Entenmann’s.
7:45 PM: The key to not being found out is to shut your stupid, inarticulate mouth up. We start playing word games like anagrams, palindromes and “observational haiku” (no using your fingers!). I’m asked if I have any palindromes. I say no, but I do have a new tongue twister. They all seem dully impressed with Dog God. Then someone notes that Dog God is indeed a palindrome and we all have an “oooooh shit” moment together.
7:56 PM: I write on a napkin, “Damn, there are a lot of uggos here.” The woman to my right turns to glare at me. I add, “They smell like cat piss and BO, too.”
8:08 PM: It is now intellectual time. Someone stands. It’s a fat, hairy guy wearing jorts and a t-shirt that says “friends don’t let friends derive drunk” with a picture of fucked up math equations. He is a grown ass man named Jimmy. Today is apparently his turn to decide this meeting’s lecture topic. He chooses “The Role of Women in Society”. Okay. Immediately he starts off with a tirade about the 17 year old girl working the counter at Starbucks. I’m not really listening but I know it has something to do with him being a creepy, lonely, ugly, fuck. He then suggests that we as a society should reverse women’s lib. and go back to the good ol’ days of arranged marriages where the most desirable men (i.e. men with high IQ's) are the ones who can make the most money and therefore should be paired with the most desirable women (i.e. hot Starbucks girl). It’s not selfish because their pairing would benefit the western world as a whole. I try not to laugh.
These meetings were a complete load. Here are the minutes.
7:33 PM: The meeting officially starts 3 minutes late. There are 20 of us sitting at a table in a room meant for maybe 8. A middle aged man who looks like he’s never kissed a girl, aka, John Mark Karr, suggests we call ourselves “tardines”; one person sorta chuckles. He meant it to sound like a combination of “tardiness” and “sardines”. I wonder if he realized it sounded more like a retarded person being ironic by making fun of other retarded people.
7:40 PM: The fat guy in the room (which one? har har) keeps asking where the “brain balls” are. His 5-year-old-at-Disney-Land giddiness erupts into audible squeals when the group is finally presented with a box of donut holes. Relax, dude. They’re just Entenmann’s.
7:45 PM: The key to not being found out is to shut your stupid, inarticulate mouth up. We start playing word games like anagrams, palindromes and “observational haiku” (no using your fingers!). I’m asked if I have any palindromes. I say no, but I do have a new tongue twister. They all seem dully impressed with Dog God. Then someone notes that Dog God is indeed a palindrome and we all have an “oooooh shit” moment together.
7:56 PM: I write on a napkin, “Damn, there are a lot of uggos here.” The woman to my right turns to glare at me. I add, “They smell like cat piss and BO, too.”
8:08 PM: It is now intellectual time. Someone stands. It’s a fat, hairy guy wearing jorts and a t-shirt that says “friends don’t let friends derive drunk” with a picture of fucked up math equations. He is a grown ass man named Jimmy. Today is apparently his turn to decide this meeting’s lecture topic. He chooses “The Role of Women in Society”. Okay. Immediately he starts off with a tirade about the 17 year old girl working the counter at Starbucks. I’m not really listening but I know it has something to do with him being a creepy, lonely, ugly, fuck. He then suggests that we as a society should reverse women’s lib. and go back to the good ol’ days of arranged marriages where the most desirable men (i.e. men with high IQ's) are the ones who can make the most money and therefore should be paired with the most desirable women (i.e. hot Starbucks girl). It’s not selfish because their pairing would benefit the western world as a whole. I try not to laugh.
8:55 PM: At around 8:45 I am asked to read back the minutes from today’s meeting. I do. I read them everything you just read. I am asked never to come back again. I go out to my car and write up this last minutes report on the hood.
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