An Open Letter to Whoever Slashed My Tires Last Night

Dearest Whoever Slashed My Tires Last Night,

Fuck you.

Sincerely,
The Bean

No people, seriously, who does this kind of shit anymore? Apparently the same perpetrator hit more than forty cars around my neighborhood last night. It actually even made the news, which would have been cool if they had actually done any of those "man on the street" interviews. See, I always thought it would be funny to try to do a serious interview, but to also pretend like I had tourrets. That way, I could be speaking seriously about the state of our neighborhood crisis and then suddenly shout the word "balls." I mean, granted, I could do this anyway in any real life situation. I actually tend to do this at work a lot when helping customers, which would be funnier if I actually currently had a job.

Yeah, see, that's the other sad part of my saga. My temporary position was up at the beginning of this month. So now I'm supposed to be all adult about things and look for a real job. The downside to the whole thing, and the reason that I'm so against it is because I can just tell that it's going to require some type of effort on my part. And, people, I'm not down. Until then, I'm just gonna sell random shit on ebay because, really, who wouldn't want a half-used Pink Pearl eraser that I still have from seventh grade? I even drew boobs on it! Actually, I just drew the boobs like three days ago, but the buyer doesn't need to know that. Which means that I can use the word "vintage" in my online auction. Rad.

In closing, I'd like to say that the best part of my day was in talking to a friend from Boston. She informed me that her cat, who had NO previous training or experience, 'successfully' pooped in their bathroom toilet last night. I feel it necessary to put half quotes around the word "successfully" because apparently, there was a slight bit of cleanup involved, I assume on the seat (though she didn't go into detail). But it's a cat, people! Give it a little bit of wiggle room.

After hearing that story, I gagged a little bit. But after the gagging, I gained a little bit of hope for this world. Because if a cat of all things can teach itself to use a toilet, then maybe the dumbshits that slashed a neighborhood's worth of tires last night can learn to just eat shit and die.

I weep for the future.

- The Bean

A Puncher's Chance

So lately Ive been watching a lot of UFC DVDs. If you arent familiar with the Ultimate Fighting Championship, I suggest you get on that right away, because its simply amazing. They throw two dudes inside an eight-sided cage (an octagon, if you will) and allow them to beat the holy hell out of one another. They do this until one of them either quits or is unable to intelligently defend himself, which I think loosely translates to "shits himself as his eyes roll into the back of his skull. " If you think youre not into violence and youre prepared to defend your point of view using intelligent facts and other various bullet points, let me save you a lot of trouble. YOU'RE WRONG. The UFC kicks ass.

Now, I dont know what it is lately that makes me want to watch such a violent (albeit very strategic/intelligent) sport. Call it whatever you want. I didnt get enough attention as a child, my mother didnt hug me enough (though I suggest you dont talk about my mother as youll be quick to catch a size 10 enema), maybe I was picked on a lot growing up and now I must live out the twisted fantasies of payback through others whose profession it is to punch things very hard. The fact remains that I enjoy it very much. My thought is that its because Im not a violent person by nature and, therefore, the only way for me to get my own aggression out is to watch other people do it for me. Personally, I think its healthier than actually fighting WITH someone.

The other cool thing about this particular organization is the nicknames they come up with. If you know anything about me, you know that I have the highest regard for coming up with nicknames. Truly, there is nothing cooler than a good nickname. And the UFC has them in spades (which I think means a lot but Im not sure because Ive never actually successfully used that phrase before). For example, Chuck "The Iceman" Liddell, Randy "The Natural" Couture, "Ruthless" Robbie Lawler, Andrei "The Pitbull" Arlovski, "The Phenom" Vitor Belfort, Chris "The Crippler" Leben, etc. The list goes on and on. And I think that the only real reason that I, myself, am not an 'ultimate fighter' (other than the fact that I cried during the movie Little Giants) is because I dont have a cool nickname. It would seem that the only nicknames that prove fitting for me arent really all that cool or badass. For some reason "The Crier," "Mr. Sensitive," "The Tulip," "The Hemophiliac," "Captain Whanny," and "The Heavy Bag," just dont strike fear in the hearts of men..or I guess even children for that matter.

So for now, Ill just have to bide my time until a great nickname is either thrust upon me, or I find a way to not get a little misty whenever I scratch a mosquito bite for too long. Until then, the UFC will have to quench my insatiable thirst for what I refer to as 'intelligent violence.'

- The Bean

What-Eating Grin!?

So I was at work today when a little thought wandered into my head from afar. For whatever reason, I caught myself smiling what could only be described as a "shit-eating grin." And then I thought to myself, I don't really even know what that means. For the next half hour, I pondered what the hell that could possibly mean while simultaneously setting a record for the amount of times the word "shit" could be thought in a half hours worth of time.

If you look at the phrase itself, it makes absolutely zero sense. None. Think about it. If you were to have just eaten some shit (consumed poo, if you will) what would be the farthest facial expression from your mind? A smile, right? Or at least, that's what I would think (or hope). I don't know what kind of sick bastard would put excrement in their mouth and then smile really big, but I guarantee they would probably be from Germany.

Seriously though, what the hell? A shit-eating grin? Really? Usually that phrase is reserved for people that have just done something impolite to someone else and are so proud of themselves that all they can do is smile. But shit eating? How could that possibly make you smile? Usually I'll make a disgusted face if there are even trace amounts of it in the air. Most people will. Their face will go all sour and they'll either hold their breath or leave the room. I don't even think it would be possible to force like a half smile in that situation. It would just be wrong. No one smiles in the bathroom. Not for that anyway.

The only possible way that I can make sense of that saying is that maybe you were tricked into putting poo on, near, or in your mouth, and the person that tricked you is now smiling if not laughing hysterically at you. But could that really be considered a "shit-eating grin?" Wouldn't that be more of a "Tricked you into eating shit grin?" Though I suppose that's far too lengthy to be a good phrase.

So I propose that we do one of the following: 1) Change the phrase to mean something else. Maybe change it to "Shit-eating frown" or "Shit eating repetitive gag." 2) Change the phrase so that it's actually correct. Example: "Candy eating grin" or maybe "Tater tot eating grin." Those at least make sense.

Shit's just gross.

Disclaimer: If you are offended by the word "shit" or shit itself or picturing someone actually eating shit, then you probably shouldn't have read this. However, since I didn't think to write this paragraph at the beginning, you'll take what I give you. Hindsight is 20/20 people. Plus I'm lazy. Deal with it.

-The Bean