It's Whatever

a deep, cleansing exfoliation of the thoughts, with a hint of mint

The Slow-man’s Shield April 11, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — omahgawditzljk @ 3:59 pm

while sitting at home the other night with dear mother, reading the odyssey and wanting to oedipus rex my eyes out, i looked up at the TV to experience this jewel:  

so let me get this straight. you hear an intruder. you’re scared. and your man tells you not to worry because you have an alarm system that beeps.  just got back to sleep, little lamb.  that burglar doesn’t know what deafening sounds are about to ruin his perfect hearing. what if the burglar is deaf?  what if he doesn’t hear your slomin’s because he’s disabled. disabled people murder too, kids.  shouldn’t this chick be worried about more than an intruder? like the fact that her husband would rather cuddle than save their lives? or that her husband thinks the slomin’s shield is an actual shield.  people like that deserve to be awakened at night by the sounds of bloody murder.  if i were her, and i died, i’d haunt him until the end of time. and when i haunt him, i’d sing the slomin’s shield jingle.

and then, days later, i came upon this:  

who in the HELL gets this irrate when your neanderthal boyfriend doesn’t come home when you want him to? i’d be glad this monster wasn’t on his way home to gnaw at my leg or something.  and isn’t this bull from night court?!  

and then, when bull reassures his mistress that the alarm is set, she decides that she’s going to make him dinner… and if i’m not mistaken, it sounds like she’s going to do it naked.

and then there’s one i can’t find on youtube because it must be protected by the slomin’s shield, but it’s a young woman going on an innocent first date with a guy, and some other guy is watching her from the shadows, and 2 seconds after the woman hugs her date goodbye and she walks into her house, her door is kicked open by her ex-boyfriend.  it’s the kind of realistic scenerio that makes a girl want to write an apology letter to all her ex’s and send cookies with sprinkles on them that read “don’t kill me, k?”.  i’d prefer something a little less probable, like a dragon fighting warrior trying to break into your home with the sword that he pulled from the stone.  that’s a seller.

but i think steve carrell’s really got it down in a little segment i like to call:  word