Category Archives: Three minute read

Feb 16 2012
2 Comments
Fiction, Three minute read

Meet a Mammal: the Swedish Gray Wolf

Adolphus Jonasson, a Swedish Gray Wolf

Hello and welcome to today’s episode of “Meet a Mammal” with your host, me! Before we meet our guest, allow me to introduce myself:

I was born centuries ago in a leaky canoe where I was instantly orphaned and then raised by a flock of giant birds called tittleswinks. Unfortunately, tittleswinks are now extinct because I ended them. The birds were very cruel and tortured me daily by making me eat their regurgitations. This went on for years until I couldn’t take it anymore and used my powers of abstract thinking to destroy them.

I don’t know my own name, so I call myself Truckles, and I love mammals because they are not birds. Enough about me, though! Let’s meet our guest.

“Today we have Adolphus Jonasson with us, a gray wolf all the way from Sweden. Adolphus, thanks so much for being here.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Truckles. It’s great to see you again.”

“Likewise! So Adolphus, you’re a gray wolf living in the Kolmården Wildlife Park in southern Sweden. Can you tell us a little about your day to day life?”

“Well, it’s not as interesting as you might think. Mostly I do what other Swedish gray wolves do, keep up with international affairs, scratch myself, balance the budget, meat think, nap in the sunshine, hide from zoo visitors, flirt with the zoo keepers, etc. It’s a pretty simple life.”

“But I bet you have tons of time for self-improvement since you don’t have to hunt and kill your own food.”

“I suppose that’s a good way of looking at it. But I’ll be honest here. Sometimes when I see a heavy zoo patron or a sickly child, I feel the wildness within me and I imagine jumping over the exhibit wall and seeing their eyes bulge with terror before ripping into their tender necks and tasting their blood warm in my mouth. I hope I’m not disclosing too much information! Hahahaha!

“Not at all! I’ve thought that exact same thing before. Hahahaha! Now tell me this, Kolmården Wildlife Park is the largest wildlife park in Scandinavia and also home of Sweden’s only dolphinarium. As you probably know, humans unreasonably favor dolphins over other mammals. Do you ever feel jealous of the attention the dolphins get?

“That’s a great question, Trunkles. If I can be honest here, sometimes I do get a little pissed off that this aquatic animal is so arbitrarily beloved. What does it have that the gray wolf doesn’t? Aren’t we cool? Have you ever seen a pack of wolves devour a cow before? It’s freaking awe-inspiring, and I just don’t get why we aren’t more popular. In fact, sometimes I get so angry, I imagine leaping right into the dolphin tank with my buddies and savoring the the flippered freaks’ squeals as we tear into their rough necks and turn the exhibit into a literal blood bath. Oops! Did I say too much again? Hahahaha!

“Not at all, Adolphus! I hate those squeaky suckers too! Well we’re running out of time here, but very quickly I’d like to ask you one last question. The name Adolphus means “noble wolf,” and yet I read that people often make fun of you because of its similarity to Adolf Hitler’s name. How does that feel?”

“It doesn’t feel great, Trunkles, not great at all. Did you know I speak four languages? I’ve composed several symphonies and eaten countless kilos of raw meat but those feather haired, leather skinned, smarmy mouthed tourists can’t get over the fact there are other mammals out there named Adolphus. Sometimes it makes me want to listen to the blood gurgle in their throats as their life slowly slips away from them….oops I did it again! Hahahaha! Sorry about that—blood on the brain you know!

“I sure do! Well thanks for being on our show, Adolphus. Do come back and visit us again!”

And for all my guests at home, don’t forget to join us next time when we have a genuine Cairo ferret with us. Thanks for watching!”

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Feb 15 2012
6 Comments
Humorous, Open Letters, Three minute read

In Theory, I Hate This Class

Education only works if someone cares

Professor —–,

The following is a hypothetical situation, but I think you’ll find it helpful in understanding my performance in class and how we can work together for our mutual benefit.

Let’s say I’m taking a class, the purpose of which is to equip me with a certain skill. For this exercise, let’s call the class “Literary Analysis in Arabic.” This class, like any class, is built upon the relationships between the student, the professor, and the material. In order for the class to successfully equip me to analyze literature in Arabic, one of several scenarios must happen (combinations are also possible):

A) I enjoy the professor and want to excel in order to make her proud.

B) I am passionate about Arabic literature and as such am driven to do well for the love of the material alone.

C) I am a mindless slave to grades and would sacrifice everything in order to get an A, regardless of my relationship to the professor or the material.

However, in this theoretical class, something interesting has (theoretically) happened. Not only do I not enjoy the professor, but I am also not particularly interested in the material, which is made up primarily of reading novels in Arabic, an act that takes grotesque amounts of time. Indeed, in theory, I determined while sitting in the very first session of this theoretical class that my time was better spent elsewhere doing something I enjoy and find useful instead of honing this skill which will likely go unused in the future and wasn’t all that lucrative to begin with, personally and financially.

At this theoretical juncture, it is clear that I’m not motivated to excel by the material itself or the professor, who theoretically I find overbearing yet absent. The only thing left to compel me to do well in this hypothetical course would be the promise of a good grade, a letter on a scrap of future-trash that means nothing to the rest of the world and to me would only signify the hours I wasted earning a clearly meaningless letter. Actually, I have theoretically found grades irrelevant and am no longer motivated by them.

Indeed, the only reason I have to continue attending this theoretical class is the desire to avoid personal embarrassment complete withdrawal might cause in addition to administrative issues that are not related to the subject matter or professor. In short, my theoretical motto for this class is, “I’m here but not interested. Please do not disturb.”

For that reason, the lackluster professor should theoretically avoid doing things like assigning a surprise presentation and then adding with a flourish that it will be done, “for a grade,” because theoretically I would sense a challenge. “What if I just didn’t do it? What if I just sat here and stared? Will you fail me? FAIL ME ALREADY!”

So in theory we should avoid doing that. But there’s nothing to say this theoretical situation could be a positive experience, with each one left with less work to do and more time to do the things she loves. In theory, this could be the best of every world.

Thanks for taking the time to hypothesize with me, Professor —–. If you have any questions please let me know. See you in class tomorrow!

Photo Credit: Grant Cochrane at freedigitalphotos.net

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Feb 10 2012
6 Comments
Humorous, Three minute read

The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

I want a magical forest filled with unicorns

I’ve taken naps at night for as long as I can remember—really hearty ones that last anywhere from six to eight hours. I don’t know much about what goes on during these night naps, but apparently I just lie motionless. The doors to my auditory, olfactory, and oral sensory headquarters are shut and padlocked and my capabilities at controlling drool levels are severely reduced.

If that’s not weird enough, I don’t even remember most of what I do for these periods of time. I’m pretty sure I just lie still, but I could also get up and squirt cheese whizz at the dog. Who knows? I have no control over my body during these dark gaps in my consciousness. It’s quite terrifying.

After waking up from one of these naps, however, sometimes I can kind of remember stuff from the great beyond I just sailed through. Most of it is dark nothingness with wisps of things I’ll never quite remember. Sometimes I think of ham inexplicably. Yet on the rare occasion, I remember a dream and catch a glimpse into the journey my mind sneakily made behind my back.

Dreaming, to put it simply, is amazing. There are endless possibilities of a sleeping mind roaming through territories ungoverned by reality’s mundane laws. The dreams don’t even need to involve hardware or flooring materials. That’s the beauty of dreaming: it’s limitless and free.

This is why I regret almost every single dream I remember. My dreams, far from being fantastic, are disgustingly boring and feel more like a poorly written office memo. Invariably I’m doing the exact same things I do in real life except for sometimes it feels “weird.”  My brain, as a dream-maker, sucks big time. Why can’t it create cooler things for me? Why am I not soaring to a floating feast where I sit in a barrel of spaghetti while eating ribs with Conan O’Brien? Why can’t I zap period clothing into existence and have the sickest privately owned collection of bonnets? Why am I not in the trenches with my best talking animal friends while we defend ourselves against an evil giantess that looks like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz?

They always say something is “the stuff dreams are made of” like it’s a good thing, but this clearly doesn’t apply to all dreams. Mine seem to be made out of dust covered toilet paper rolls, empty ball point pens, generic brand Cheerios called something like Happy-Oh-Nos and the stuff people give away for free on Craig’s List.

I would rather not even remember my dreams if it only means being depressed at my pathetically low dreaming horizon. I mean, I would like to see results from the 6-8 hours a night I put into these naps. All I want to do is wake up and not want to drop acid in order to make my dream life more interesting. Is that too much to ask?

I guess what I’m trying to say is that not all dreams are made of the same stuff, so if you’re buying some you better give the label a good look.

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Feb 06 2012
17 Comments
Best blog posts, Humorous, Three minute read

Sperry Top-Siders Are a Lie

They also don’t have very much support

Months ago, I wrote about an adventure sandal known as the Chaco. As a piece of footwear, the Chaco has never disappointed me. I’ve worn it eating in fancy restaurants, hiking in the mountains, trudging through deserts, striding on the bottom of the ocean, and creeping through strangers’ bedrooms. With each new task, the sandal proved itself and revealed astonishing layers of durability as well as a gentility unknown to most footwear.

Allow me to now introduce the Sperry, my other pair of shoes. A mainstay of New England preps in the North and sorority sisses and fraternity bros in the South, the Sperry is a boat shoe. Placed on the feet, it goes well with white pants, pearl earrings, and brightly colored popped collars. As a piece of footwear, it has the laid back attitude of an undergrad at Ole Miss who will never fear unemployment because he attends class in a building named after his family.

Unfortunately, I don’t look for such a laissez faire attitude in my foowear, which is why the Sperry sucks.Unlike my faithful, industrious Chaco, I often find my Sperry lacking. According to Sperry Top-Sider Shoes’ website, the first Sperry boat shoe was invented after Paul Sperry looked at his dog’s paw after watching him run on ice. While gazing at Prince’s paw, Paul was taken by the grooves that allowed his collie companion to sprint without fear of falling down. Shortly after this mystical experience, he used a penknife to carve lines in a shoe so sailors could walk as fearlessly as Prince.

Thus the Sperry Top-Sider was invented as a boat shoe, a shoe with purpose and function. This noble and well intended beginning stands in sharp contrast to the pitiful depths to which the shoe has now fallen. My complaints against the shoe are numerous, but allow me to begin with the ridiculous leather shoelaces that function as laces only slightly better than Twizzlers. Any shoelace with this many edges and in the shape of a long skinny cube is clearly flawed. I am constantly forced to  re-tie the shoe, exposing myself and my rear end to God knows what dangers.

Furthermore, though the shoe is advertised as a boat shoe, the sorry examples of footwear currently adorning my feet nearly dissolve in water. Even after waterproofing them, their performance was mediocre at best and nauseating at worst. Have you ever slogged around a city for hours dreaming only of a warm, crackling fireplace to throw your shoes into while shouting profanities?

Last of all, the Sperry Top-Sider is not a durable shoe. After a year of solid wear, the soles are almost completely worn through and the leather is so soft it could be thrown in a crockpot and turned into a toothsome winter stew. I do enjoy a good stew, but that is not why I bought the Sperry. I bought it to wear on my feet.

Right about now, I’m wondering: why do I even bother buying these shoes if I hate them so much? Unfortunately this is a question that will have to wait for another time. Let me say, for now, that my own stupidity and stubbornness compels me to wear these travesties year after year.

Some people once said inspirational things that when combined sound kind of like this: “be the change in the world because it begins in yourself today.” That may be true, but I can still put off buying different shoes until tomorrow.

Nota Bene: The company does make “performance” shoes, but if you’re marketing yourself as a boat shoe company and the shoe handles water more poorly than a scrap of paper towel, are you really any better than a common criminal?

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Feb 05 2012
6 Comments
Humorous, Lists, Three minute read

Snotting Gold, Pure Gold.

As of last Thursday, I was graciously nominated for the Versatile Blogger Award by one blogger known as Leo Rex.  With pride and a bit of trepidation, I now join the legions of bloggers who have also received said award. Though we number in the thousands, let us not forget the hundreds of thousands of bloggers who are still versatile blogger award-less. To these undecorated participants in the blogosphere, I say:

“One day someone besides your mother or father will read your blog, have a blog themselves, and decide to nominate you for this award. That day might not be soon, and we might be able to inject internet into our veins by then and have mandatory blogs that are monitored by the World Government, and these awards might even be handed out by that same government organization in order to keep up the illusion of free will and creativity, but the day will come, so hang in there.”

As per the award guidelines, I shall proceed to nominate some other blogs for the award and talk about myself. With further ado, here are the blogs that I nominate for this award. I realize that many, if not all of them, have received this award before and I’m not sorry for renominating them. They should know that I sincerely enjoy reading their blog and who cares if the versatile blogger award links pile up in their comment boxes like dusty term papers in the office of a professor who is having an out of state affair. Also, if you haven’t heard of them you might like them too.

1. Damp Squid-Recently fresh pressed. Well done, fellow blogging comrade.

2. The Good Greatsby: Getting the word out about this blog is like spreading news about Lady Gaga.

3. El Guapo: He writes limericks sometimes. You’ve been warned.

4. Linda Vernon Humor: Humor you can write home about.

5. The Life and Times of Nathan Bradley: I’ve found it good for the ha has.

6. @Grumpy Comments: Sunny D in blog form. Just kidding. It’s a grumpy-funny fest.

7. The Waiting: I hope her baby will be able to write as well as her.

8. Your Stupid Advice: Great for those times you want to be berated for asking the questions you were afraid to ask.

And now I get to shamelessly share facts about myself.

1. My first unrequited love was Conan O’Brien.

2. I only have 4 pills left in the course of antibiotics I’m taking for my ear infection.

3. When I lived in Denver, I would steal quarters from my Dad’s wooden fish bowl that he kept change in. I was only 4 or 5 but I felt guilty about that for a long time. This is my confession to him.

4. This might be a little gross but I like to watch the hair accumulate in my hairbrushes so I can see how much I’ve been shedding. When I finally clean it out it looks like a bird’s nest.

5. Sometimes I use my sister’s toothbrushes without asking/telling them. This usually happens when I don’t want to get my own toothbrush out after I get back from traveling.

6. I like to eat most foods with my little spoon. I try not to be possessive of it, but one time I saw someone eating with it and I had to suppress anger.

7. If I could, I would wear the same outfit every day. This outfit would include a helmet.

Thanks for the award, Leo Rex!

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