Monthly Archives: May 2011
It occurred to me recently that I am the author of some ideas I share with others that theoretically could be passed on without applying credit where it is due: Me. Of course, there is a strong assumption that any of them are worth repeating. In my humble opinion, they are pretty dang clever. Then again, Emo Phillips said “I used to think the brain was the most fascinating organ, then I realized what was telling me that.” I heard it first from him as a guest patient on Dr. Katz, and am content believing he thought up that gem, even though ostensibly I could Google it to make sure. The point is twofold. I think my ideas are worth sharing, but then again, look who is leading me to believe that. Second, I find it prudent to document them on the infinitely accessible medium called the Internet blog, lest I become like the poor sap who is banging his head against the wall for being the uncredited author of Emo’s hilarious joke.
Okay, I admit it. I’m paranoid. It doesn’t mean they aren’t after me. I don’t think Kurt Cobain originated that concept, incidentally, but he is certainly known for the lyric. I think I’ve made my point. Onward.
How do accountants practice safe sex? By using tax shelters.
Ba dum, bum.
ignoranus [ig-nuh-rey-nuhs]—noun, plural – anuses: an asshole who doesn’t know shit.
Urban Dictionary can SUCK IT!
Osama’s burial at sea officially changed his name to Osama been Bobbin’.
What? Too soon? Puh! Let the 72 virgins canonize that evil bastard.
I’ll have you know that when I was a kid, I wondered if we would ever be able to see the person we are talking to on the phone. Skype can suck it, too.
In the spirit of this blog post, we all want to be recognized for our work. Even ghostwriters want to be paid for being anonymous.
I guess it can be described as a hybrid of the following actions: gagging; spitting; vomiting.
. . .
Huh. Now that I documented it, I am not as prolific as I thought I was. Still, I can sleep well tonight knowing I protected my intellectual, albeit useless, property.
Blogs— the electronic poorman’s copyright. Hey! There’s another one.