Witz DOESN'T Pick: Threat of Death! (but not death threats yet...I'm not that well known...)

I had turkey chili in a bread bowl last night, so I apologize if I come off a little cocky today. Also last night, I learned that my dreams are only getting less creative.

After watching Lost, I was chased around by John Locke for approximately ALL OF THE GOOD HOURS OF SLEEP. At first I thought maybe he was chasing me because he wanted me to be the recipient of a monetary reward or because we were playing a game of Rock N' Jock Tag (First of all, does anyone remember Rock N' Jock sports on MTV? Why was the Burger King spokesman of the time always involved?? Secondly, I'm not sure why I'd be involved in this game of tag, although I suppose being in a local band does constitute some mild rocking). As it turned out, he didn't want to do either of those things-- he wanted to kill me (really creative, brain). I wasn't sure if he wanted to kill me right up until the point where he declared, "I'm going to kill you," and I guess I appreciated his honesty. Apparently, he was planning on using his bare hands, so I grabbed a knife and stabbed him a few times, but check this out: in dreams, Witz can't even grab a quality knife-- I stabbed him with a serrated bread knife, which did little to no harm, but certainly gave him the idea of producing a LARGER non-bread themed knife with which to murder me. I took this as my cue to run upstairs to my parents room and hide behind the door.


Now, I don't know if you've ever seen any movies ever, but running upstairs and hiding behind the door rarely works. It didn't even work when I was a kid playing real hide and seek, so I'm not sure why I would think "John Locke: Dream Murderer" would be foiled. He wasn't foiled and right before I got stabbed repeatedly, my brain decided it would be a good time to wake up and realize it was exactly 1 minute before my morning alarm was set to go off. Fantastic. "Well, you're not murdered-- now get up and go to work." The scales remain balanced.

Back to real life. It has recently come to my attention that a man in Turbo's office has started wearing a surgical mask to work. Turbo is not a doctor, nor does he work in a hospital. He is in film production. Context is important in situations like these, so let's back up. If this man had previously learned that his lungs were fragile and he needed to avoid as many germs as possible, the mask would be ok. If the man was considering a career change to construction, but wasn't sure he could handle the facial constraints on a daily basis and wanted to try it out for a bit before quitting his current job, that would be ok. If the man drew different faces on the surgical mask each day as hilarious jokes to pass the dreary routine of the work week-- that would be ok. But none of these things are the case. The case is that about a month ago, this man went apeshit in the office (like, Take Your Face apeshit), destroyed his cubicle and went off on one of his co-workers.

Somehow, because of his talent, he wasn't fired. This means that if ever asked "How good are you at your job?" he can reply, "Well, I pulled a Chris Brown on my cubicle, physically threatened my office neighbor with company property that I then destroyed, and still work here..." To which the only possible reply is, "I didn't know you could sing." After a brief departure, he returned and for the last week, he has sported the surgical mask look. There are only two options left: the man IS Asian, and therefore, through simple facts, it is possible that he has reached that time in his life when he inexplicably dons a surgical mask in public. It's a lot like what I understand The Happening to have been about-- only this mask thing would probably get better reviews. So MAYBE that's the case. But since we all know that's NOT the case, let's just state the obvious-- Turbo is about to have a front row seat for biological warfare. "Everyone in the first three rows WILL get skin lesions," type stuff. This raises an interesting question: Can Turbo ask for paid time off given the fact that a dude in his office is clearly planning something?

Turbo: I'd like to not come in for a while.
Boss: And why is that?
Turbo: Well, uh, exhibit A is the batshit crazy tech guy wearing a goddamn surgical mask to work.
Boss: Hm. Do you have any reason to believe he's dangerous?
Turbo: ...I mean, there was that incident where he picked up an "Anatomy of a Human" statue and beat it repeatedly against his cuble wall until it broke into a thousand pieces.
Boss: Goo...and how long did that take to do?
Turbo: An awkwardly long time!
Boss: That does sound violent.
Turbo: It was terrifying!
Boss: And now he's--
Turbo: --wearing a surgical mask to work, yes.
Boss: Is there ANY chance he's considering becoming a construction worker and wants to test out the facial restraints before getting into a life of heavy sanding?
Turbo: It's possible, yes. But I don't--
Boss: --Alright. Well. Let's go with that for now...aaaaand...let me know if he shows up wearing any air-tight suits, k? This is my home phone number-- you can reach me there if he does.
Turbo: What? You're leaving?
Boss: Hell yeah, I'm leaving, are you kidding me? The guy's wearing a surgical mask in the office-- I'm not dying for a Michael Bay film!

I say it's more than valid to get out of the office-- "If you see something, say something," the NYC Subway says, and in this case, Turbo has definitely seen something. Otherwise, what I think Turbo needs to do is take the offensive. Start wearing OTHER crazy shit to the office and make sure he sees you. Borrow my, "Gun Control Is Being Able to Hit Your Target" t-shirt. Watch The Rock really loudly and keep repeating the, "Paper or plastic!" scene to get him thinking about the consequences of his actions. Put on TWO surgical masks and say, "Gotta double bag it, bro." Get in his head. And in the off-chance that the guy reads Witz Pickz and uses this as a reason to speed up his attack-- my bad!

I'm DEFINITELY Wearing A Surgical Mask to Work,
Witz

Witz Pickz: Tuesday Grab Bag

To prove to you all that I'm not thinking clearly these days, I need to tell you that Pepperidge Farms Sausalito Cookies were on sale for two dollars a bag last week and I only bought two bags. Let me say that again: Delicious cookies chock full of macadamia nuts and chocolate chunks were being sold for 25 cents each and I only bough two packages of them. I SHOULD BE SLEEPING IN BEDS OF COOKIES! I should be exfoliating with the crumbs of sugary goodness. "Witz, your skin looks amazing, what are you using?" COOKIES! My car should be overflowing with bags of desserts, with the windows down, so as I go over bumps, bags of glory fly out the windows like a package of Jiffy Pop. People should be saying, "There goes Witz, he really knows how to live," but instead they're saying, "There goes Witz, his car sounds like two cow-bells boning. So clearly I am not thinking correctly, and can't be held accountable for my lack of posting

National Pancake Day:
Today is National Pancake Day which means that PANCAKES have the exact same number of holidays per year as black people! Sorry, Martin Luther King, Jr., but you affected people just as much as bisquick mix. Now, I understand that MLK Day is a NATIONAL holiday and that some people get the day off, but some people don't get the day off. On National Pancake Day, EVERYONE gets a free short stack of pancakes at IHOP, and that's even more of a bonding experience because then everyone who got the free pancakes can feel massive indigestion together. The only way MLK, Jr. Day brings people together is by making all white people super awkward and have to pretend they're way more into African Dance Exhibitions than they actually are.

Ordering Pizza:
The pizza server girl at Whole Foods screwed me over last night. She took one look at me and seemingly decided, "I hate this human being." How come when I get slices of pizza, I don't feel like it's socially acceptable for me to say, "I want THAT piece!" like I'm still five years old? MOREOVER, how come people don't look at me and KNOW that "He wants that piece!" when they grab a slice for me. I obviously want the huge, "Oops, we cut the pizza into fourths" slice for my three dollars instead of what Mitch Hedberg deemed the "Donate it to charity" percentage slice (% of people who if they won the lottery would donate the money to charity). Is it just a power trip? Do the pizza slingers do it just to taunt me and show that they hold some level of control over my life? I mean, I would feel a certain sense of SHAME giving someone the tiny slice and charging the same amount as the huge slice. Is this their way of calling me fat? I mean, I might be one pizza encounter away from being nicknamed, "Big Slice Witz" but I'm kind of ok with that. Big Slice is kind of a dope nickname. I'm prooobably gonna start calling someone I know Big Slice as soon as possible, and it's not necessarily because they're large. So maybe it's time we took a stand and started telling them exactly which slice we want. Maybe we need to get aggressive about it. "Nope, not that slice you fucking moron, the good one. What are you, retarded?" Everyone knows which slice, "the good slice" is. So let's start acting like it.

This Was An "How Much Do You Love Work" Slice of Comedy,
Witz

P.S. A special farewell to The Big Ho (self-titled) who is off to join the Peace Corps in Honduras today and will inevitably suffer a painful death at the hands of the chupacabra. Never underestimate the chupacabra my friends, for that is when they are at their most dangerous. Until the inevitable, though, stay safe.

Witz DOESN'T Pick: "Only the Good News"

KJR-FM thinks you're an idiot (but thinks your friend is cute!). I have been recently informed by Sparks Gal that 95.7 FM in Seattle is featuring "Only the Good News" on their station. This means that they are avoiding all negative headlines and simply giving the listeners some positive views of the world. As I've stated before with "Just the Bunches cereal," we don't live in a "Just the Bunches" world and we don't live in an "Only the Good News" world. Moreover, just like how the best books have tragic endings, USEFUL news is usually the bad stuff. I don't need to know that 3 orca whales had babies in Puget Sound (though I bet they are cute as helllllll and might eat me), but I might want to know that a plane crashed in Buffalo. I can't imagine this conversation going in my intellectual favor:

Person: Did you hear about the down-swing in the Asian markets that could potentially cause millions of people in the US to lose their jobs?
Witz: No, but did you hear about how baby seals are adorable?
Person: ...You're an idiot.
Witz: True.

Beyond that, how do you have "Only the Good News" on a radio station. What about the fact that TRAFFIC exists?? "For those of you taking 405...take this time to think about all the people that love you! For those of you NOT taking 405, realllly good decision-- we can't say why." Or maybe just, "There's absolutely no traffic on Quarry Road today!" If it's raining outside, do they just skip over weather? How do they judge if that's good news or not-- maybe there's a drought or someone wanting to watch a movie and not feel guilty for staying indoors? "It's a great day to not have to go outside!"

You know who listens to the station with "Only the Good News?" Everyone who's going to die in the event of an emergency. I'll be hearing about the Earthquake or the Tornado or the Alien Invasion and packing my things and getting out of town while Good News Gary gargles a tsunami.

But hey, let's give them the benefit of the doubt. Let's take a closer look at some of their Good News:

Country at 93% Employment! GREAT! Ohhhh wait, that means we're at 7% unemployment, which is actually considered quite high! Thanks for manipulating statistics-- that's not good news, that's just you thinking I'm dumb.

Walmart Posting Record Sales! Phew! I was worried the large mass corporation that treats their employees the worst and sells primarily to poorer people would go under! That sounds great for Walmart, but I'm not exactly sure how it helps anyone else. Luckily, they're posting record sales, which means more people feel they have to shop at Walmart in order to afford their lives, which means more people are getting poorer. That's one step above saying, "Food Stamp demand at all time high!"

As Sparks Gal says, "How does their announcement that they are hosting a Rod Stewart show at Quilceda Creek Casino constitute 'good' news? And how will they report a serial killer on the loose? Maybe in terms of 'the victims have all been unpopular, thus far'??"

If 95.7 was being remotely facetious, I could understand, but they mean it and that worries me. Are people that dumb? That fragile? If so, I plan to rob them. Again and again.

"Who's breaking into my house? Who's there??"
"It's ME-- the tanking U.S. economy!"
"The who? I've never heard of you...are you sure you're not conjoined monkey twins that can juggle?" (Note: All monkeys look like twins to me. I also believe all monkeys can and ought to be able to juggle. Furthermore, identical twins would be so much easier to tell apart if they were conjoined. "I can never tell which one's Ricky! Oh-- yes I can-- he's the one always on the left.")

Not Only the Good Posts,
Witz

Witz DOESN'T Pick: Restaurants Making Me Sound Like A Tool

Maybe I haven't posted since last week, but YOU haven't either, so think about THAT! Now...let's talk about how restaurants feel the need to make us sound like complete assholes.

I want to know exactly when it was that restaurants decided to be "wacky." When did the first person say, "You know what this hamburger place needs? Deep Sea Diving equipment on the walls." When did somebody first think that putting crazy crap on the walls of a place would make me want to eat there. I'm not saying it hasn't worked, I'm a sucker for Applebee's, Ruby Tuesday's, Friendly's, and Chili's (at least before they reduced their fry portions, which was literally the smallest change they could have made that generated such a huge reaction out of me), but I have to assume that the "wacky" aspect of restaurants came from somewhere, and it feels American. I have a hard time believing that some German place said, "Zou know vut zis place needs? Snow shoes and tennis rackets on zee walls!" Then again, Germany and "flair" haven't worked out so well in the past. Probably not a lotta "Stars and moon" themed birthday parties-- "What if we just have moons, honey?"

So let's assume this is an American thing. A "we have so much stuff, we're putting our stuff on walls where we eat just for the fuck of it" type thing. Nobody's gonna fire a nuke at us when we have spare guns, nets, and fishing spears strung up on the walls of Red Robin. HOWEVER, America took it too far. The crazy shit on the walls evolved into crazy stuff on the menu-- not cuisine, but names of dishes. Red Robin is a good place to start. I feel slightly foolish ordering the Honky Tonk BBQ Pork Sandwich. Unless I'm getting kick-backs from them, I don't feel the need to say that I want the WHISKEY RIVER BBQ Burger-- I'll just take the BBQ Burger. That's tame, though, compared to some places where you have to say things like, "I'd like two Al Pacinos, one Chick-quille O'Neil, and a Sly Stallone please (also, I'm either ordering for several people or am ridiculously fat in this scenario)." Sandwiches probably started this trend, with delis giving their eats clever names after people they know or geographic locations. Historically, I don't think ancient peoples had this. "Gimme two King Ramses II's, one What Sphinx In Here, aaand three Incest In the Mornings...thanks."

I blame America, and things have gotten out of control. Fine, I'll order a "Robin Williams" in SF if you have some sandwich that's "totally off the wall and enough meat to put hair on your chest." I'll order a "Jerry Seinfeld" in NY if I want to know, "What's the deeeeeal with turkey bacon!? Is it turkey? Is it bacon? Is it just a way for Jews to wink at God and say, 'Gotcha!?' Who cares! This sandwich is delicious!!" BUT I WILL NOT sit there, looking a waiter/waitress in the eye, and say something that we are both aware makes me sound like a complete tool. Case and point, here is the worst menu I have ever seen in my entire life: CAFE GRATITUDE IN SF...if you read the menu and don't want to stab someone's eyes out, then you aren't literate. I understand it's a healthy lifestyle type place, but wouldn't you then want to make it MORE accessible to the average person? For those of you not perusing the menu, well, first of all, that's really lazy and you probably have the time to do so, and second of all, take this one example off the kid's menu:

I Am A Hero: Noodles and Sauce (Spiral-sliced vegetable “noodles” in marinara sauce with Brazil nut parmesan).

Who would order that? No children are ordering that for themselves. Moreover, do you order it as, "I Am A Hero" or "He/She Is A Hero" when ordering for a child? The menu only gets worse as you run into "I Am Dazzling" which apparently means you're gonna have wicked bad garlic breath, or "I Am Eating At Cafe Gratitude" which means, "I'm really effing rich, because these mediocre, condescending, barely food dishes are expensive." What you really mean to say is, "I Am Vegan" or "I Am Lactose Intolerant" or "Gluten-Intolerant" or "A Really Good Friend of One of the Aforementioned People."

As My Friend Formerly With A Pool said,

"I wouldn't say a single one of those things. I would say "give me the noodles with sauce" or just "give me directions to another restaurant, because you have awful names and also noodles in sauce sounds like something you might get in jail"



So please stop making us sound like idiots. Nobody says, "Hey, let's go to Bobby's for lunch! They make you say, "I'd like to order the I'm Easily Amused and Borderline Retarded Burger!" Just make good food and if you really feel the need, tack something up to your walls that doesn't belong there. It'll be so wacky we'll practically throw our money at you.*

I Like Restaurants That's Walls Reflect My Inner Emotions...Full of Ski Poles,
Witz

Photo comedy magic performed by Nitro

*Note: I actually DO pay waiters by balling up and throwing my money at them. It's really really condescending and demeaning and it not only makes me feel better about myself, but it makes them feel worse about themselves, possibly leading to them killing themselves-- and with the current economy, if I get laid off, those open jobs will be warm and cozy cribs for me to sleep in. Literally.

Witz DOESN'T Pick: McDonald's Commercials, Bathroom Etiquette, Facebook Philanthropy

McDonald's Radio Ad:

I heard an ad on the radio this morning for McDonald's breakfast and couldn't ignore it. It was one of those two part ads, where they do one scene and then follow it up with another quick scene of the same idea. The first one is a guy calling into work and telling them that he woke up with a bout of optimism and after having a McDonald's breakfast doesn't think he's going to be coming in because he's enjoying life too much and having too good a time now that he's eaten his McGriddle sandwich. It was supposed to be ironic and witty, but here's the actual translation: I woke up early, ate breakfast at McDonald's, and am now shitting my brains out and don't think it's going to end within the 9 hour window we call the work day. In addition, he says, "I feel like I was hit with a ton of teddy bears," which is supposed to be the opposite of "hit by a ton of bricks" I imagine. Only, as IQ test takers know, a TON of teddy bears is the SAME as a TON of bricks. That dude felt like he was hit by a TON of weight-- now you try and tell me it's not from the McGriddle.

The second ad featured a sassy black woman (not a stereotype-- McDonald's has spent millions of dollars cornering the Sassy Black Woman demographic) getting aggravated because, "Oh no you di'in't just cut in front of me in line! I know you saw me there!" Fortunately for the offending party, "I'm getting a McGriddle for breakfast, so I'll let it go this time!" Translation: I'm a sassy black female stereotype who comes here a lot and am VERY familiar with the McDonald's menu, ordering process, and feeling of temporary joy that I experience from endorphins that are released after consuming McDonald's breakfast products. In addition, while I don't appreciate your complete disrespect for the line and myself, I understand that my sass can get a little out of control, especially when I'm hungry, and will let you off the hook this time, especially since I am morbidly obese, and couldn't possibly do much more than make a lot of noise and fulfil the role that McDonald's has seemingly assigned to me in their world. Besides, you'll get yours after breakfast, when you are forced to call in sick to work because you're shitting your brains out and don't think you will ever experience anything else ever again.

Bathroom Etiquette:

While we're on the subject, I might as well throw this in: WHO THINKS IT'S COOL TO TALK ON THE PHONE IN THE BATHROOM??? That wasn't cool 10 years ago, and it's still not now. Whenever anyone does it, I make a point to flush every urinal and stall in the place, just so the person on the phone hears. Sometimes multi-tasking isn't the answer.

Also, who decided that the gym bathroom is a sound booth where you can make whatever noises you feel like? I go to wash my hands and I hear all the worst parts of the Bible coming out of stall three. Another time I walk in and it sounds like some dude is watching his daughter perform a gymnastics floor routine from the bleachers: "Eeeeeeesh, ohhhhhh, wheeeeeew, ugggggh, phewwww, alllright, hmmmmm, stick the landing, yesssss, ahhhhhh, exhale." Awful. The worst is when there's a someone makin' a lot of noise from the handicapped stall and I don't know if they're just making sound effects or if they fell and are struggling to get back into their wheelchair. And it's not like I can give a peek under the stall because the last thing I want to do is make eye contact with some paraplegic lying pantsless on the floor of a public restroom-- I don't want to see his shame and more so, it'll make it even more awkward when I turn and walk away.

Facebook Philanthropy:

I'm sick of all the "causes" and "petitions" that people send me on facebook. I get twenty of these things a week, and end up feeling like a major douchebag and terrible human because I just click ignore on them. Meanwhile, it takes someone about 30 seconds and minimal effort to invite everyone they know to join this cause they are interested in, and somehow they're supposed to come off as good people. They don't actually care if I join their cause, they just want everyone to know that they care about stuff. Of course I care about major issues and global/national problems, but who is going to take me seriously when I have 50 causes that I'm for and 500 petitions that I've signed? So what am I supposed to do with these things?? Yeah, I'm not pro-global warming, but do I really need to accept your "Fight Against Global Warming" cause invitation?? It doesn't sound like a problem, but do I really support a White House Victory Garden Re-planting enough to "sign" a PETITION?? No! If you're my friend on facebook, then you PROBABLY aren't the type of person that supports Neo-Nazi Movements, Ethnic Cleansing, or Extreme Poverty. I don't need you to advertise that you want to help people in Darfur or are in favor of working towards more balanced wealth distribution in our nation and others. Just because I don't join your cause against seal clubbing, doesn't mean I go out on weekends and club seals, nor do I support seal clubbing organizations (other than organizations that are in favor of physically clubbing the singer Seal).

So stop. Please. We know you're good people. Or we know you're not good people. AND we know if WE are good people or not. You don't need to lead us in one direction or another.

Formerly A Good Person,

Witz

P.S. What's with the ubiquitous "Two Rules to a Flat Stomach" internet ad with the before and after shot of the "flat stomach?" It's everywhere and makes even safe, work friendly pages seem like gross awkward porn. Since when did "photos that make you want to throw up" become good marketing?

Witz Pickz: State IOU's

California is being forced to issue IOU's instead of state tax refunds to millions of residents. At first, I was concerned. You know there's something wrong when you trust your state government less than you'd trust a homeless guy when they say, "I'll pay you back later!" Sure you will, State of California-- you prooobably just casually decided to go the direction of IOU's-- it's proooobably not a sign of a major economic collapse that will haunt the state for years...

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

Really puts the whole Prop 8 thing in perspective-- "As your state, we say that you can't get married because you're gay! Also, as your state, we're broke as shit, dude! Spot me some g's?" I'm sorry, but I don't let broke people tell me what to do. If you owe me fifty bucks and tell me not to borrow your Forgetting Sarah Marshall DVD-- I'm gonna go ahead and borrow it, thanks. If you owe me money and ask for a ride to the store, guess who's not paying for gas. I don't think we should let broke-ass California have control over us anymore. If you wanna get gay married, go for it. If you wanna confine your chickens before you slaughter them-- you do that. If you don't like stop signs-- then let your roads be stop sign free. And this is exactly why I'm way in favor of State IOU's.

Getting an IOU from your state is like having them say, "Don't worry about speeding anymore!" Because when that cop pulls me over, I'm gonna be waving my tax return form at them. Parking tickets? Nope. Paying for public transit? Put it on my tab. Any public works or utilities item should suddenly be available with my new Municipal Gift Card. It's like we all suddenly became celebrities and have political sway to get away with stuff.

Having the state use IOU's opens the door for a ridiculous IOU economy (oh wait, we do that already).

Police: Sir, you just drove your car at 160mph (which is really impressive for your Subaru station wagon) off the highway, through the city, barrelling over hills and eventually crashing into Fiddler's Green-- we need you to come with us.

Witz: Sorry, sirs, but no dice-- lemme just get out my IOU book and write you one for "8 years jail time served." Also, I hate Fiddler's Green.

Boss: So are you planning on coming in this month...because we've been paying you for the last three and you haven't been here?

Witz: Uhp, my bad-- I totally meant to write you an IOU for the 3rd quarter, but I thought maybe I was just getting severance! Here you go, 640 hours, that should cover it. Now, I'm gonna need you to wait until 2010 before you cash this.

Finally, where in the Constitution does it say you can issue IOU's??? Was Ben Franklin like,

BEN FRANKLIN: Also, add a part in there where if the country becomes obscenely broke, it can cover all expenses and commitments to its citizens via a slip of paper with the letter's I-O-U scrawled on it.

THOMAS JEFFERSON: What?
BEN: You know, like, just in case.
THOMAS: Dude, are you hiiiiigh?? We can't do that!
BEN: Whyyyyy not? We're writing the CONSTITUTION!
GEORGE WASHINGTON: Thomas, stop being such a pussy and just do it.
BEN: Are you kidding me? IOU's??
GEORGE: It'll be hilarious!
THOMAS: It's not like it's gonna happen, just do it!
JOHN HANCOCK: Haaaaaancock!
BEN: Fine. Douchebags.

IOU More Jokes,
Witz

Witz DOESN'T Pick: Racist Lights

My room back home hasn't been updated since I was five years old. This means that all my furniture, my bed (which is actually larger than the bed I currently sleep in), my walls, my rug, are all the same as they were over twenty years ago. And apparently, twenty years ago, a gay five year old lived in my room. Every piece of furniture is rainbow colored-- meaning the outline is blue, but each drawer, shelf, etc. was a different color of the rainbow. Super ironically, I'm partially color-blind, so every time I walk in my room, it's as if my room is welcoming me with a big "Fuck You!"

One item in my room, however, drew my attention when I was home in December. In the middle of my ceiling, there is a light, and I realized this time around, that it is, through no fault of its own, an extremely racist light. As you can see in the picture below, my light depicts a number of athletes in sports poses-- only, to allow for the most light possible, they are all extremely white. The whole thing plays out like a "People about to lose" montage. Let me explain:

Boxer: As far as I know, tiny white boxers haven't dominated the sport (or underwear culture) since the thirties. This guy is about to get his ass handed to him by Oscar de la Hoya.

Basketball Player: Whoah, whoah whoah-- whatcha doin' buddy? That's a funny lookin' pass! Our boy in red is seconds away from getting that ball smacked back into his face reminding him that John Stockton was the last of his kind and even Steve Nash doesn't think he's as good as people say.

Skiier: Alright, that's legit, but it's amusing that they made the guy doing the whitest sport all bundled up in color except for his face and hair. He looks like the bad guy brothers in Die Hard.

Baseball Player: Nothin' much to say other than the fact that this guy looks EXACTLY LIKE SAN DIEGO PADRES INFIELDER, KHALIL GREENE.

Tennis Player: Again, nothin' much to say about the super white tennis player, other than the fact that he looks EXACTLY LIKE SAN DIEGO PADRES INFIELDER, KHALIL GREENE!!! Also, some South American white guy would kick the crap out of this guy.

Hockey Player: So there are only like, three black people in the entire NHL, and hockey players wear badass gear and are rough dudes, but this light STILL made this guy look nerdy and white-- feels like they're compensating.

Nascar: Let me explain how this is racist. Having NASCAR on my light makes it so that any black person walking in my room would take one look at my light and say, "Oh-- I'd better go..." He'd also probably add, "But for what it's worth, I think there's a gay five year old living somewhere in your room." It's a slippery slope-- first you get the Nascar light, then you get the swastika face tattoo.

Football Player: Do a little research and get back to me on how many white running backs there are in the league. Either this light is racist, or we're supposed to believe that this guy's team just blocked a punt and the offensive lineman picked up the ball on his long trudge down towards the end zone. You be the judge.

Oh yeah, and just in case the rainbow furniture and racist light weren't enough, I have a print by an apparently famous Native American painter of a small topless boy being stalked by a guardian bare-chested spirit in the clouds. I guess it was painted during the awkward, "The Gods Might Touch You There" movement of the 80's. The weirdest part is that when I was really little and scared to go to sleep, my Dad would say, "Don't worry, just look at your painting of the guardian spirit," which was like saying, "Don't worry, there's a creepy Indian looming over you just outside your sight."

Two Words: Night Shirt,
Witz

Oh hey, just a nude Indian on a ghost horse, nothin' to worry about here...