Spamrider of the Apocalypse

Unfortunately one of the biggest problems in the world today is that too many people in too many countries are trying to live like they’re Americans.

Hell, it was hard enough on the world when only us Americans were living like Americans.

Now you’ve got India and the Chinese jumping on the bandwagon, and there are a whole lot more of them than there ever were of us.

What are we going to do, tell them “Sorry, there’s only so many resources to go around, and while we certainly can understand all of you wanting to live the way we Americans do (because after all, everybody knows that America is the greatest country in the world), we’re afraid you’re just not going to be able to do that because it would divert too many resources away from America, and then we wouldn’t be able to live like Americans anymore.”

I’m sure they would understand.

They say when life hands you lemons, make lemonade.

This always seemed sort of stupid to me, mostly because I like lemons.

So what if life hands you a stinking pile of shit? What are you supposed to do then, make a shit sandwich?

Funny thing is, I once knew a guy who did exactly that.

As a child he lived on a farm, and he had to walk to school every day. Since his family was poor he would always have to bring his own lunch, which usually consisted of a single peanut butter sandwich.

And every day the school bully would beat him up and steal his sandwich from him.

Of course you see where this is going.

So one day this guy goes out to the horse stall and takes some horseshit and spreads it between two slices of bread.

I’m sketchy as to the details of what happened, but I do remember that the bully never stole any more sandwiches.

I can finally tell you now the real reason I was in Texas.

My best friend from The Future, Schmelnoz the Incomprehensible, arrived on Present-day earth approximately two weeks ago.

Good Lord, it seems like two months.

Anyway, we decided Texas would be the perfect place for him to fit in, because it’s relatively easy to stuff a mass of alien head-appendages underneath a ten-gallon cowboy hat.  It turned out Schmelnoz actually needed an eleven-gallon hat though, because at one point one of his head-penises slipped out and started squirming around causing quite the commotion in a local smalltown bar.  Luckily I was able to diffuse the situation by buying a round for the house, after which anything strange just got chalked up to all the tequila.

There are of course many more stories to tell, and I’m even hoping to get Schmelnoz to chime in with a guest entry or two.  But right now I definitely need to rest.  Probably for about two weeks.  Maybe a month.

Hanging out with Schmelnoz the Incomprehensible is hard on a guy.

In Texas every meal you eat comes with Texas Toast.

I’m not that big of a fan of Texas Toast actually. No offense to Texas.

Actually, I wonder if Texas Toast was even invented in Texas.

Some guy in New Jersey probably sliced some bread extra thick one day (this was before they had invented sliced bread), and his wife comes along and says, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” And thinking quickly on his feet, the guy answers, “Making Texas Toast!”

(Because everything’s bigger in Texas, you see. Even my wiener.)

And then the guy’s brother-in-law, who’s from Texas, finds out about it from his wife and he introduces it to his home state, acting like it was his own idea all along, and everybody in Texas is so smitten and proud that they got their own kind of toast they start serving it with every meal.

At least I figure that’s how it happened.

I’m sitting in a hotel room in Big Lake, Texas.

The name of the hotel is “The Derrick Inn”.  I call it “The Derelict Inn”.  It isn’t a bad hotel, really. It just has the misfortune of being located in a town that is totally out in the middle of nowhere. Big Lake may have a big lake, but despite being located in Texas that’s the only thing that’s big in Big Lake.

I guess they used to measure towns by how many horses they had tied up in the streets. Hence the term “One Horse Town”. Now I think you’re just supposed to replace the word “horse” with “stoplight”. Big Lake is a two stoplight town.

2,885 citizens inhabit Big Lake, Texas. According to the flier on the wall it has 11 churches. That’s one church for every 262 people, not counting three heathens.

Of the eleven churches, three are Baptist, one Catholic, one Methodist, one Pentecostal, and one Mexican. They’ve also got your Apostolic, First Assembly, Church of Christ, and Faith Community churches.

If you’re Lutheran you have to drive to Rankin.

Wow, everything really is bigger in Texas!

Even my weiner!

I was just reading a news article where they used the expression “it’s like the icing on the cake”.

Which got me to thinking…

Who eats cake with no icing?

The expression “the icing on the cake” as far as I know means something extra and unexpected in addition to something else which you already knew you were going to get anyway.

It’s like the icing on the cake.

Except it isn’t.

Because when somebody orders a piece of cake, they already know full well that they’re also going to get icing.

It’s part of cake.

So getting icing on your cake isn’t really anything special. It’s merely a part of what makes cake so special to begin with.

So it isn’t really icing at all, you see.

Now, if you ordered a piece of cake and they unexpectedly also brought you a free scoop of ice cream with it, now that would be something special.

THAT would be the icing on the cake.