Lucky Bastard

I am pretty damn awesome at most things; sex, drinking, football, sex, guitar, Call of Duty, and sex, and that is why the laws of compensation dictate I must be terrible at something. In my case, it is luck that I suck at. When I was a boy I was mauled by a dog named cuddles. Yup, that's the truth. Ever since then I knew there was something very odd about how things always turned out for me in the game of chance. Seriously, the dog was named cuddles and it fucking mauled me... Do you understand what I am saying here?

Small dogs with attitude are not my only problem when it comes to luck. It's a fact that coin flips, scratch-offs, pull tabs, number draws, and the right-place-right-time phenomenon, all snub me. After loosing $700 dollars in a last attempt experiment with scratch-offs, I decided to consult some witch doctors on the subject... but I couldn't find any, so I went with religious fanatics. I first met with this old Pakistani guy first. He said that I was cursed by Allah for being an infidel and that is why I have zero luck. "The only way you can appease Allah is to spit on an old Jew woman's shoe". Oh - so anti-semitism is lucky now? "Yes", he said. Well... who am I to argue? I decided to find a bat mitzvah.

They stopped me at the door because, "there's something funny about this one"... So I turned around walked back out down to the grocery store; I needed a disguise. Using a shower curtain and a pair of scissors, I cut out a small circular disc about 5 inches in diameter. For you laymen out there, in Jewishishnism, it's called a yamaha... it goes on your head. For further effect I bought a box of matza balls and rubbed it's fragrance all over me. I also took the liberty of learning some popular Jewish phrases like, "Do you believe the heat out today", and "What are you kidding? I can't eat this!" Once I was in the party it was smooth sailing. To avoid detection, I simply complained a lot about anything: The floor is too slippery, the hats are too tight, the cake is too sugary, etc.

I walked up to the first old Jewish woman I seen and hocked a loogy onto her shoe. Trouble. The music stopped and everyone glared at me. The bright side is that every time I find myself in this situation that song Renegade by Styx comes on in my head * The jig is up, the news is out, they finally found me. You renegade, you had it made, the da da bla da da! * The bad news is that I was about to be murdered by a mob of religious nuts with funny hats. In a fit of panic I yelled, MOZEL TOV!! Which I think means, 'just kidding, everyone, I just needed some attention cause I was feeling lonely - let's get this party started! Next thing you know I was being carried around on a crappy folding chair (fact: most injuries among Jews are caused by folding chairs, slippery floors, and muslims), singing songs about Jewish teenage angst. You know you are listening to music of Jewish teenage angst if they yell chutzpah a lot. It's usually found in place of the more commonly used word, fuck.

Shortly after the bat mitzvah, I bought a scratch-off and won forty bucks.... and then I was accosted by a dog named Yappy Doodle the third... Not quite sure what to make of that.

Wishes do Come True

I got into a fight with my girl the other day, and I was thinking how much nicer it would be to, instead of run through the entire disagreement process only to end up at my perfunctory capitulation in order to avoid three days of misery because I didn't do the dishes, bash her in the head with a log and then go to sleep. However, laws state that men can no longer enforce their will like they use to because - I don't know - it's too easy and is less time consuming, not to mention more peaceful in the long term, and that's apparently a bad thing. I was thinking this while she was yelling at me, and then she hit me... and then it hit me: Gorillas don't have to take shit from chicks! That can be my happy place while she yells about crusty eggs and how "they don't clean themselves." No shit?!? Of course they don't clean them-fucking-selves, nature will take care of it! Or you will, which ever comes first.

So now when she yells about me leaving my underwear in between the couch cushions, I just transport myself to that magical place where I am a giant gorilla, with a cigar...and a hat. I jump around, as king, in my magical forest. This fantasy has been going on for quite a while and has developed into something quite ridiculous by most peoples standards. Good thing most people are really fucking stupid.

So there's this one night in particular in which I was gazing up at at the stars, getting way too serious, wishing I really was a gorilla. I mean really wishing, like the kind of wishing little girls do in their bedroom windows in movies after witnessing a shooting star or some shit. When I realize how ridiculous I must look wishing on a star in the window at the local Red Lobster restaurant, I sat back down and wished some more - but this time I did it like an adult; with my head down in a low whisper.

Magic happened that night, because I woke up the next day and... oh shit- I giant black mutant hair growing out of my shoulder. Magic happened that night, and magic is fucking gay. I checked with the local authorities, and a single black hair on ones back is NOT enough to qualify you as a gorilla. Six evenly spaced black hairs is the minimum to blur the line between human and primate, thereby, giving me the right - no - duty, to punish my girlfriend with tree limbs.

Wishing just isn't what it use to be. The entire market has been turned into a third rate discount store where everything looks great because it's super cheap, but when you get home you realize just how cheap it is when you plug it in and get zapped. I was zapped with a freak hair! What the fuck am I supposed to be doing with this thing: It's god damn useless! Since it's freakishly obvious the magic of wishing has been stretched to the point of breakage, I am proposing we end all children's birthday parties. Kids make dumbass wishes anyway. "I wish my parents would get back together" - wah wah wah! What a waste. That's like saying, "Please fix the errors of my ways!" Everyone knows the kid deserves to live with the snoring, farting, perpetual nightgown wearing granny because it's always their fault the parents hate each other in the first place. Why do they think they deserve my wishes to get a second chance?

Fine, I understand that's a lot to do away with. Here is another suggestion: STOP HAVING KIDS! That'll fix a lot more than just the defunct wishing system, and just think of all the ferries and trolls that would get a day off. Think about it; until they're unionized, or get some breaks, all our wishes will be filtered through a pile of ferry dung rendering it unrecognizable and/or regrettable. Kids just aren't worth all the trouble anymore. It's time for us, the adults, to have fun for a while. It's time for us to finally make the decision to choose life over children.

Parents wish I was illiterate.