Witz Pickz: Venting and Shooting Yourself in the Leg...Literally.

Venting:
The vent in our bathroom collects dust the way I collect amusing ailments. I don't know if it actually affects much in the bathroom, but once it became extremely clogged up, I started taking notice and decided to do something about it. See-- I'm a man of action-- maybe not "daily" and maybe not "appropriate," but action all the same. I'm also a big fan of cleaning or organizing when other things seem out of my control. If you can't evade a larger life problem by physically solving a minor house-cleaning problem, then somebody shoot me right now.*

So this past weekend I decided to tackle the vent. The problem is that our bathroom ceiling is inexplicably high. It's like they decided to make up for the lack of space in our bedrooms by giving us obscene headroom in the bathroom. It's the bathroom equivalent of a Honda Element (or the Scion Xb). If aliens saw my bathroom, they would assume that humans expanded in water. Other things aliens would assume if they saw my house:

1) Marriage is between three men and a woman

2) Mostly girls like Star Wars

3) A fun game humans play with ants when they come streaming into their homes when it rains is called "tag" and is played with a paper towel or fingers. A fun game ants like to play with humans is called, "Hide in the sugar until someone reaches in to grab it and then swarm over their hands like a terrifying scene in a movie and make them shriek like little girls." Sometimes ants "play too hard" and swarm into the bathroom and shower, and that's when humans call the exterminator and rain down hellfire in the form of poisonous traps and "knock-down spray." Humans are kind of dicks.

So I needed to come up with some way of reaching the vent. Standing on a chair and reaching didn't cut it, so I decided to put some paper towels on the end of a broom and reach up. I wanted it to collect the dust, so I wet the paper towels. Reaching up, I proceeded to turn the dust into cement, and mash it down into a thick layer, completely blocking the airflow. I needed a solution fast. "Where do people turn when they need fast solutions?" I thought and it suddenly hit me. I ran into my closer and grabbed what I needed. Utilizing classic abortion technology, I reached up with my unbent coat hanger and cleared each strip of soggy dust from the vent. Minutes later, the vent was completely clear and I felt worlds better. Thinking that this would probably happen again, I placed the hanger on my "bathroom shelf" in the closet, and then hesitated. As it turns out, having an unbent coat hanger on your bathroom shelf is EXTREEEEMELY creepy! Shaving cream, Nyquil, Vitamins, Sunscreen, hook-fashioned coat hanger. So I did what anyone would do-- I placed a box of condoms next to it and turned the shelf into a mini anti-pregnancy diorama.

...these are my friends and readers...

Plaxico Burress:

I know I don't usually get topical here, but it's not everyday a football player has to miss games because he SHOT HIMSELF IN THE LEG. For those of you who haven't heard, the Giants wide receiver announced that he'd be missing some games because he managed to shoot himself in the leg. The trump card is that he is now pleading NOT GUILTY to HAVING A GUN. In case his explanation of what happened wasn't enough evidence, the GAPING WOUND IN HIS LEG might be held against him in court. One explanation I heard for what happened is that he tried to look badass by putting his gun down his pants, but the gun fell down his pants, and when he tried to pull it back up from INSIDE his pants, it went off and shot his leg (totally and completely badass). This explanation does further my theory that the best home protection would be to place tons of guns all over your home. If somebody broke in, the odds of them picking up a gun and shooting themselves would be pretty good. Plus, it might not even get that far-- just seeing that many guns might be enough to make them think twice about robbing you. I don't think that's actually what happened to Plaxico, though. I'm pretty sure he was trying to see if he was Hancock.**

I Hope Plaxico Uses the "Leg Stigmata" Defense,

Witz

*Note: Just an expression, you will be prosecuted. Also, if I were to be shot and killed, I still expect my corpse to be preserved, at least well enough for me to go posthumously tandem skydiving. I don't care if it's with a buddy or an instructor, but one way or the other, you better get my Action Corpse onto and out of a plane. I'm not saying I'll haunt you if you don't, but I can't promise I won't do my best to convince the ghost of Bernie Mac to wake you up by rehashing scenes from The Bernie Mac Show. Too soon?

**Surprisingly, shooting himself in the leg does not mean that he is not Hancock. It either means a) He's not Hancock or b) He IS Hancock, but is too close to his soul-mate and therefore his power is diminished and he can feel pain. If I just shot myself in the leg and my wife ran in about to scream at me, I'd probably try and explain option b. And yes, I liked the movie Hancock-- who doesn't like Will Smith? I even saw Hitch. Twice.