28 September 2020

Starbucks and the Genie

We don’t get much in the way of leaf-changing in my part of the Sunshine State, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the fall. Average temperatures dropped from what felt like 1,000 degrees to a more manageable mid-80s this week, and I knew it was time to head down to my local Starbucks and get my annual Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino. Let the joy of the season flow! 

Actually going into Starbucks these days is like going into a weird, vacant crime scene filled with odd rope lines, bizarre directional arrows on the floor, and the pervasive fear that you’re going to do something wrong and accidentally NOT social distance properly. Therefore, I opted for the drive-thru, quite unaware that I was making the worst mistake of my day. 

When I got to the window, the girl inside said that it would be a few minutes. “Would you like to answer our Question of the Day while you wait?” 

Now, I thought it would be rude to just say “no” and continue staring straight ahead into the mid-afternoon traffic, so I consented to play her game. I would have chosen differently, however, if I’d known what I was getting myself into. See, I was expecting a simple 50/50 opinion type of question. Something like: 

“Do you prefer Coke or Pepsi?” 

or 

“Who do you like more, Taylor Swift or Katy Perry?” 

or 

“Do you use soap, or do you just rub yourself with wet gravel in the shower?” 

Instead, she came at me with this: “If a genie suddenly appeared before you and said he would grant you a single wish, what would you wish for?” 

Oh dear god. I have to actually think of something clever to say? In an unexpected, forced-upon-me social situation? This was not good. I know that most people could easily handle this scenario, but for me, this is the equivalent of a “you’re in school wearing nothing but your underwear,” code 5, red alert, BAD TIME. 

 

 

My heart beating double-time in my chest, I thought of two possible responses: 

1. “I would ask the genie for more wishes.” Unfortunately, I was pretty sure that Mr. Belvedere was still on television the last time that was a halfway-clever answer. 

2. Just stomp the gas and come back later (in disguise, of course), at which point I could just say NO when asked if I wanted to play this game. 

Instead, I maintained enough composure to mumble something about “a million dollars.” At least this horrible episode in Conversations With Strangers was over. 

But it wasn’t.

“Oh, and what would you do with a million dollars?” the girl asked. 

I began to wish I was somewhere - anywhere - else. Lying on a tropical beach, perhaps. Relaxing on my cozy back porch. Sitting in a musty grave, chewing on a moist bone. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, casting about in my utterly blank, horrified mind for a coherent answer. “I guess I would retire.” 

Cool. So cool. I should have said, “I would buy exactly three more of these Frappuccinos,” but that answer didn’t occur to me until hours later. And even now, I’m not sure if it’s as clever as I think it is, so maybe it’s for the best. 

“Well,” the girl said, “maybe you should play the lottery or something. You might win!” 

At long last my drink appeared at the window. So grateful I was to be free of the prison of this conversation, I made the mistake of turning the tables: “So, what would you ask the genie for?” 

She was ready. “I would ask for all the knowledge of the perceivable and unperceivable universe, with which I could help everyone in the world to be happy!” she said. 

Wow. Had that one cocked and loaded, didn’t you? Now I not only get to feel like a bumbling, frantic fool in the Starbucks line, I get to feel like a small, selfish fool as well! 

Oh well, at least the Frappuccino was good. 

Join us on the next episode of The Shark Tank, where the checkout girl at Target says, “Did you find everything you were looking for?” and I say, “Fine,” and then I ruminate about it for the next seven years.

21 September 2020

10 Possible Cures for Coronavirus (That The Media Won’t Talk About)

It may seem strange to you that modern scientific cures for a pandemic would be found on an obscure blog that hasn’t been updated in nine years, but I think we can agree that it wouldn’t be the strangest thing that has happened recently. For a long time, I swore that I would only post a new entry if I felt it was my patriotic duty to do so, and folks, that day has come. Because while the [!]MEDIA[!] may only want to talk about the benefits of mask-wearing, the dangers of hydroxychloroquine, and the size of Belinda Garrett’s prized fall pumpkins, the Shark Tank is (as always) willing to take a leap into the unknown.

So without further delay, strap on your tinfoil hats, put away your cynicism about fake news, and lend me your unquestioning, unscrutinizing ear. Here are 10 possible cures for coronavirus that the media won’t talk about.

10 – Don’t Get The Coronavirus In The First Place

In Eckhart Tolle’s bestselling book “The Power of Now,” he says this of a duck: “It is dignified and perfect as only a mindless creature can be.” That description resonates with me for some reason, so it is from a place of dignity and perfection that I offer my first simple and effective “cure” for the coronavirus – Don’t get it in the first place! You lived how many years on this Earth without catching this disease? 90? 110? Why would you go out and catch it now? That’s just idiotic, and it’s the kind of sheep mentality that’s giving us so many problems in America today. Have the courage of your individuality!

9 – Aunt Jemima Pancake Syrup

Yes, yes, I know what you’re going to say. You don’t even have to bring it up. We’ll address it right up front so you don’t have to. You’re thinking: Aunt Jemima Syrup is simply too delicious to waste it as a coronavirus cure! And while we agree that it tastes quite a bit better than, say, the cleaning chemicals you use to tidy up your fish tank, sometimes you have to make sacrifices when it comes to bettering your health. Mix with Pillsbury's Funny-Face Drink Mix for best results. 

 

Charming!

 

8 – Burn a MAGA Hat

I’ll be honest, there’s not a lot of scientific or even speculative evidence that this will cure your coronavirus, but we need to make sure we don’t leave any stones unturned.

7 – Burn a Copy of Robin DiAngelo’s “White Fragility”

Ohhhh, that’s right, you just got BoTh SiDeSed. Let your righteous anger flow. Surely your elevated blood pressure will keep the coronavirus at bay.

6 – Burn Yourself

No, I don’t literally mean that you should jump in your fireplace or hold a Bic lighter up to your earlobe until you feel that beautiful/horrible melting sensation kick in. You can do that if you like, of course, but The Shark Tank is not responsible for the results. No, no, you should “burn” yourself. Stand in front of a mirror. Now, before you get distracted by all the toothpaste-spray that you should have cleaned off the glass months ago, start hurling insults at yourself. COVID is predisposed to thrive within a healthy, well-adjusted self-esteem. If it senses that you hate yourself, it will flee for more welcoming conditions. For instance, your aging neighbor who loves to tell you that you’re doing your yardwork “wrong” at every opportunity!

Jesus, that is toothpaste-spray, right? 

 

You don't even DESERVE to be sick!

 

5 – Have a Constructive Dialog With Your Coronavirus

They say you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, although we’re not sure who “they” are or why it’s necessary to catch flies in the first place. Studies have also shown that talking to your plants can help them grow more quickly. So why not have a conversation with your coronavirus? Now, you have to approach this carefully; you don’t want to open with something rude like, “Hey! Scram, coronavirus! You’re not wanted here!” That’s sure to engender hurt feelings and may backfire. Instead, use the Oreo approach: Two crunchy compliments with a creamy, criticizing center.

Example: “Hey coronavirus, you’re such a sexy virus, I don’t even know how you do it.”

Followed with: “Ha, you’re really wearing those shoes?”

Ending with: “I don’t care what they say, you’re really breathtaking, coronavirus.”

Exercise caution when using this strategy, because it’s not far off from the “negging” tactic endorsed by the Pickup Artist community. You don’t want to have a one-night-stand with the virus, you want to get rid of it.

I mean, unless that’s what you’re into.

4 – Contract a Worse Disease

According to a Wikipedia article that I did not, admittedly, read very carefully, when a person contracts two diseases simultaneously, the viruses will “compete” for supremacy…and there can be only one winner. Therefore it only makes sense that, in order to cure your coronavirus, you have to put it into confrontation with a bigger, more destructive opponent. I recommend the Marburg virus from Uganda, which causes hemorrhagic fever leading to organ failure and death. There’s little chance that the coronavirus can defeat such a foe, and you can celebrate your victory over the pandemic with a jaunty, blood-splattering seizure!

3 – Start Smoking

Back in the day, when medical science was a pure discipline unaffected by “studies” and “research,” doctors would commonly recommend that their portly patients take up smoking to rid themselves of all those unsightly pounds. I see no reason why the same concept shouldn’t work when it comes to curing yourself of the coronavirus. Why would a virus want to sit there in lungs filled with tar and Marlboro smoke? Even a microscopic bug has standards! It won’t be long before your virus goes looking for more hospitable conditions…like your nosy parker neighbor who thinks you should “mow more often” because her “property value is declining.” Get a life, Mrs. Clausen!

2 – Froot Loops, Chicken Nuggets, and Candy

Scientists have been unable to adequately explain why children seem all-but-invulnerable to the coronavirus, but this is just another example of the MEDIA hiding the truth from us. 99% of unexplained phenomenon can be explained by diet, and I’m confident that this is no exception. To gain the viral-fighting powers of a child, you have to eat like a child. Put away that bran cereal, stop forcefeeding yourself a keto diet, and start gorging on Cinnamon Toast Crunch, McDonalds, and circus peanuts. Strict adherence to this diet may even bring about type 2 diabetes, which fulfills the #4 recommendation above!

1 – Send Me Money!

As most of you already know, I’ve been living comfortably for the last 36 years off the $11,765 I won in a 1984 episode of “Press Your Luck.” As it happens, that prize is being paid out in a 40-year annuity, and I will soon be left with no discernible income other than what I can squeeze out of my friend and reliable advertiser, Greg Duberson. Should I be forced to go get my old job back at the Tandy Computer factory, I will have very little time to put into the research and development of coronavirus cures. I know, I know, you “gave at the office,” but this is for a good cause! GoFundMe details are coming soon, so get your wallets ready.