I'm Bringing Funny Back

Amends

I feel badly about how we left things earlier. I mean, it really was sorta negative. I even left my mind long enough to make the mistake of publishing that in my opinion, in a year, my Mom would be officially old. Jesus, who makes that mistake?

To correct the record publicly I would like to say, Mom, you are not ageless, but you are timeless. I love you no matter how decrepit you may become, or what sort of burdens you will visit upon me and my life in your declining years.

I feel better now that I got that off my chest.

Moving on. Along with Euchre, I have been playing Scrabble with Em a lot lately. I have also been playing RISK online, since no one in real life will play RISK with me. Most people when you say you like RISK, say "Oh, me too!", followed by "but I haven't played in years," and then stony silence when you ask them if they would like to play. That silence says... "I don't think I would enjoy playing a game about conquering the world with someone who actually wants to conquer the world."

I can be a might competitive. It can be a turnoff. I admit this about myself. Admitting a shortcoming is the next best thing to actually doing something to fix it. They say admitting a problem is the hardest thing to do. Not for me! I admit all my foibles. I just have no intention of fixing them. I like me. You don't have to.

I also admit my dreams are prosaic. Mostly they are conflations of things that have happened to me in a day. If I do one thing repetitively, I dream about it repetitively. You can imagine the vanilla powered boredom that constitutes my dreams when I have, say, spent the day driving, or painting the house. Not only do I live the tedium in real time, I get to go over it again. all night. Like a record caught in one groove. So I like me, I don't like everything about me.

I can hear the collective sigh of you, dear reader. Get to the point. Fine. I will. Don't push me.

My dream last night was of a RISK shaped Scrabble board, where instead of the grid we all know, the playing surfaces were in the shape of the continents and instead of merely spelling words with letter tiles, the tiles were doing battle for position to spell better and more powerful words. It was like a game where spelling helped you conquer the world. In that game, I would be screwed. Good thing RISK requires no spelling.

I guess if you are not familiar with either game, the description of these two games being crossed up and synergized is lost on you. To which I ask... Would you like to play RISK with me? I conquered the world today. Twice.

What a Kroc

I watched the CNBC biography of Ray Kroc again today. How I admire his grit and his determination and his sheer moxie. He was not the smartest, most charming, best looking guy. All he did was keep trying and keep moving until he got what he wanted. Woe be to you if you stood in his way.

I don't admire his three marriages, or the way he comported himself in private sometimes. But nobody in the business world is perfect, except maybe Sam Walton and his invention has grown up to ruin the whole world one town at a time.

I bring this up because even though I know the whole history of the McDonald's corporation from rote memory (nerd alert!), I failed until tonight to recognize an easy but awesome joke. Really it's low hanging fruit, but I have been having problems finding my funny lately, so I'll take it.

The McDonald's brothers names were Richard and Maurice, or Dick and Mack as they were widely known. I am guessing it wasn't a simple coin toss that determined which one would have a burger named after him.

Too easy, I know. Like I said, I need the charity right about now. It struck me as funny. Inside every man is a 12 year-old boy who can't give up his addiction to penis jokes. It isn't even historically accurate since the Big Mac wasn't put on the menu until years after the brothers McDonald were out of the business, vanquished by a vengeful Kroc. There was quite a bit of vitriol involved with the split, so it is unlikely that Ray would name his flagship item after Mack McDonald.

One thing is certain... the world would be a funnier place if people all across the country could look up at the menu board of their local McDonald's, step to the counter, look the Mcworker in the eye and earnestly say, "I'd like a Big Dick, please."

With all apologies to Mr. Paul Harvey... Now you know the rest of the story..... Good day!