Archive for February, 2012

Belly Button Lint

February 27, 2012

Most people have actual belly buttons.

I mean…. “innies.”

And yes, it took a while to figure out the right way to write that. We’ve been saying “inny or outy?” since we were young, but writing it on paper (or screen, in my case) is a whole different animal.

Anyway, most people have an inny belly button.

The few that have an outy lose it after child.

Whether they put on a few pounds or just lose it through growing and maturing, it really doesn’t matter. What does matter is that outies pop themselves back in, creating the tiny, sweaty lint-catcher that most of us possess.

That is where the problem lies.

Throughout the day, belly button owners everywhere work or lounge or sleep or make love. They do whatever they do, and that makes them sweaty.

That sweat pools in the holes and crevices on our bodies. One of the deepest and most easily accessible ones of these is the one located in the middle of the stomach, away from any other orifice that may drain away all of the sweat.

The slimy liquid sinks into that hole, taking every tiny bit of fiber from the surrounding area with it. The water and fuzz collect in the navel, and throughout the day, the water evaporates, leaving a sticky, smelly, disgusting glob of lint behind.

And what becomes of that lint?

It builds.

And builds.

And builds.

And soon enough, someone comes along and pulls out that putrid pile of dirty, sweaty lint right out of that greasy dimple.

Now, the thing is… what do most people do with that lint?

Usually, they just flick it away or put it into a napkin and flush it down a toilet.

They put it in a trash can or wash it down the drain.

I assume a few might eat it. Seriously.

I watched a girl pick and eat boogers through the entirety of a business meeting not even a week ago. She would scrape around the inside of a nostril with her thumbnail and then take the time to lick the thumb clean afterward.

For an entire meeting.

Roughly three hours.

We had coffee and cookies. She could have had some of those.

But, no. She ate things from her own body.

I didn’t see her eat earwax or belly button lint, but I wouldn’t put it past her.

Now that I think of it, I’ve never seen anyone eat belly button lint, which is definitely a good thing. I’m not sure if I’d be able to handle watching someone do that.

It’s all hair and fuzz.

And strings.

And… sweat.

I really can’t stand the thought of it.

However, for something a bit more festive, I have seen people do good things with lint.

I’ve seen some people who make like sculptures and dolls out of belly button lint.

“Artists”, they call themselves.

What will they think of next?






This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Ashton Cutright for what turned into a rather unpleasant post.

I’ve never been a fan of belly button lint.

I hear it smells like hot ass and a dead monkey, but I really wouldn’t know.



Truly ghjr


Oil Spills

February 24, 2012

For years, people have been using boats to take goods from one place to another.

Spaniards used galleons to move spices. Chinese used junks to move fireworks.

Americans used any boats they could get their hands on to move blacks.

It’s all the same, right?

Regardless, as technology grew, the need for petroleum based oils grew with it.

Not every country has oil under its borders, though. So, someone had to figure out a way to transport it. Tanker trucks worked, but only if there is land between Point A (the land with the oil) and Point B (the land that desperately needs the oil).

So, someone (and for my purposes, I really don’t care who) decided to shove it into a boat and take it across the ocean.

And somehow… everyone thought this was a good idea.

Now, the problem with boats is that they like to spring leaks and sink.

Not all the time, mind you. In fact, for how many boats are out on the seas everyday, the percentage of shipwrecks these days is pretty low.

However, with gallons upon gallons of oil potentially on board any boat, the hellish aftermath of a wreck or spill would prove to have lasting effect.

And that’s exactly what happened.

I only remember two oil spills that happen throughout the course of my life, the first being the wreck of the Exxon Valdez.

Yes, the Exxon Valdez wrecked when I was maybe 6 months old, but when I was young, I watched tons of repeats of Saturday Night Live. They talked about the Exxon Valdez all the time on Weekend Update.

Of course, they liked to make jokes about it being the worst oil spill since (insert famous black person who used too used Afro Sheen here) went to the beach for the afternoon.

Otherwise, the one that everyone remembers is the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, also known as the Gulf oil spill. You remember it, right?

The wellhead blew out and pissed 200 million gallons of crude oil into the Gulf of Mexico. Does that ring a bell?


It killed all the wildlife in the area.

It crippled the fishing industry and all tourism in the area for years.

It made Kanye West say “George Bush doesn’t care about black people,” embarrassing Mike Myers on national TV.

Wait… that was Hurricane Katrina.

Oh, well. It was still a disaster.

The spill pumped so many gallons of BP oil into the Gulf that NASA actually took pictures of the spill from space.

It was that big.

And truly, it decimated basically everything for miles and miles.

It continued to do so for months upon months, becoming the biggest oil spill ever. It was so big that it is still being cleaned up and the wilderness is still attempting to overcome it.

Frankly, only one good thing came out of the spill:

BP gas prices plummeted.

It was a great time to be a BP customer.





This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Ashton Cutright for this one.

Sometimes, I wonder where you people come up with your challenges. Seriously.

Take a look at The List and scope out some of the upcoming posts.

See what I mean?


Truly ghjr


February 20, 2012

I feel like I need to address something before I begin this. Yes, this is the illustrious 50th post.

No, there is no prize. You’ll be fine without one.

What I really want to talk to you about is the fact that most people use the name “Frankenstein” improperly. Not saying that you do or not everyone reading this does, but lots of people do.

Frankenstein is not a monster. He does not have an imposing brow and neck bolts and he does not walk around stiff legged with his arms straight out in an attempt to grab and strangle victims. He is not stitched together by a mad scientist and brought to life by the powers of God or nature or whatever dogma you happen to subscribe to.

Frankenstein is the man that build the monster that did all of those things.

Are we clear?

Frankenstein is a scientist. He created a monster.

Frankenstein’s monster is the monster Frankenstein created.

Okay? Good.

Now, I must admit something:

I’ve never read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. It’s the truth. I read a bit of it, but it just didn’t grab me like….. well, like “Frankenstein” should.

But, I have seen the movie with Boris Karloff a couple times, so I consider myself an expert.

Also, I watched part of Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein when I was younger. So, we’re good on all bases.

Anyway, I have always thought Karloff’s portrayal of Frankenstein’s monster, while definitely different from the one describe by Shelley, overtook that description to become the image of the monster that everyone thinks of.

Shelley says the creature was 8 feet tall, had a grotesque yellowish skin pulled tightly so that it “barely disguised the workings of the vessels and muscles underneath”, black lips, white teeth, “flowing” black hair.

Luxurious hair, right?

Also, remember back to the way the monster walked. Stiff legged. Lumbering.

It was like a Nazi goosestepping and keeping diarrhea at bay while walking through the house with paint on his hand from repainting the back porch brown.

He didn’t want to get any brown on the curtains, and I’m not just talking about the paint.

However, Shelley talked of the monster having flexibility and speed that surpassed that of any human as if the creature was some sort of superhuman.

Perhaps that lends a bit of credence to subtitle she chose for the novel: “The Modern Prometheus.”

Prometheus was a titan, a sort of superhuman, that stole fire from Zeus, gave it to humans and had his organs plucked out by birds for eternity.

Big difference, but still.

Why the changes? Maybe it was easier to make for film.

Maybe lumbering was more suspenseful than springy.

Maybe make just sucked so they changed it.

I don’t really know, but I know that I do like Karloff’s portrayal.

He’s become the icon, so everyone knows Frankenstein as Karloff now.

Talk about artistic license.





This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Emily Kersey for the challenge.

She doesn’t submit them that often, so I had to make this one special. Also, it just happened to be post number 50.

If only I had a GetGlue sticker to give….


Truly ghjr