12/21/12

So nice to meet you, Mr. Minister!

I just had an idea for a new thing! You know how there are "ministries of X" in England? Like, The Ministry of Magic? There should be a Ministry of Delight! They could handle birthdays and things.

I'm not saying that I would be the Minister of Delight, because I have to assume it's an appointed position. But I'm also not saying that I'd be anything but an awesome Minster of Delight.

PS—I'd rather be queefing.

PPS—We're getting there!

PPPS—Before you even suggest it, there's no such thing as the Minister of Queefs. And even if there where, I would want no part of it. Yuck! I just want my new catchphrase to make it onto mugs, and the sides of public buses and stuff, so I can get rich.

12/17/12

I'd rather be crying.

It's kind of a drag, but I'm still not the top hit for a Google search of "I'd rather be queefing." And if you remove the quotation marks, I don't know that I even make the top hundred.

Just picture this on a T-shirt, and then tell me it shouldn't be at the top of the Internet.

12/6/12

It's academic, so I'm pretty sure it can't be used as evidence.

Ok, don't take this the wrong way, but I've definitely thought about murdering people.

Who hasn't, though, right? You see someone who just rubs you the wrong way for some reason, and maybe you think about what would be the best way for you, or someone else, or you, to, you know, end them. Their life, I mean. Just as an exercise in preparedness, really.

So check this out: I figured out the perfect scheme.

It's sort of a variation on a couple of schemes I'd read about. One is the old "bludgeon your husband to death with a ham, and then cook the ham, and then serve it to the investigating officer." There's a lot to like there, but, what, just because you can eat the murder weapon you're off scot-free? Nope. You can eat a knife, but that doesn't make it some sort of foolproof weapon.

The other is the similar, "skewer your wealthy uncle with a falling icicle." The icicle melts, the weapon is gone, and you get your uncle's millions, assuming your cousins didn't make the will. Clever on the surface, but ultimately pretty dumb. Imagine it: the detective shows up and finds an icicle-shaped hole in your uncle, and a pool of water just big enough to make a nice icicle. Obviously he's going to think, "Oh, a falling icicle did it. Case closed." Where's the excitement in that? A falling anything could kill anyone. Hardly any point in getting involved.

No, my scheme is much better. Here's how it works:
1. You find some cat that you hate.
2. You put the cat in a freezer, for however long it takes to freeze a cat pretty good. 5 hours?
3. Remove the frozen cat, and use it as a club on your worst enemy.
4. Place frozen cat on or next to victim.
5. Stand back and watch.

Can you see it? The police show up a few hours later, they find a cold, confused cat next to a dead body covered in cat shaped bruises. If they ask you what happened, you can just say the cat did it, but I don't think any cop worth his badge would need to ask. Clearly the cat did it.

6. The cat goes to jail.

Man oh man. It practically makes me wish I was a murderer, because, while there's no one I actually want dead, I can think of half a dozen cats I wouldn't mind seeing go to jail. And it would have to work better than my current scheme of putting stolen jewelry on their tails, which, as of yet, hasn't landed a single cat in prison.

Oh well.
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