Computers and food

Computers and food don’t mix. That’s a rule at my house. Sure, secretly it’s an optional rule and is only mentioned when there’s a food-related mishap, but it sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it? For me, the problem is that a big bowl of chips really lubricates my creative engine. Something about the crunching rattles my brain. In a good way, I mean. But eating at the computer…? My solution, which I encourage you to use in your own house, is a shop vac. Strap the tube to your chest, fire that sucker up, and you don’t have to worry about crumbs while you eat.

You do have to use appropriate caution. And, seriously, don’t wear a tie.

I’m in front of the computer a lot these days. It’s partly because technology has really improved the business of threatening others. Wrapping a note that says “We’ll grind you into sausage” around a brick and tossing it through a 2nd story window has some old school charm, of course, but you can’t beat software for creating fear. When that little paper clip guy on your computer screen glares at you with red pupil-less eyes and asks, in his little speech balloon, “How may I harm you?” it gets one’s attention. It’s unexpected. I’m rather proud of one piece of text I wrote for Clippie to say: “Ten days: enjoy ‘undo’ while you can.” Good stuff.

But lately I’ve been thinking that it would be good to have a secondary trade to fall back on.

My first thought was to start my own lottery because there’s a good profit margin. As soon as I started advertising, though, goons from the state stopped by to remind me that competition is only for the weak.

So next I started learning balloon animal construction. I was getting pretty good at making flowers, giraffes, puppies, and the Loch Ness monster, but then I realized that I was headed for divorce if I kept with it. I know you figure it was because of the jealousy associated with the inevitable groupies that swarm around anyone successful in the entertainment industry, but no: actually it was the sound. My wife, it became clear to me when she threatened to break a plate over my head, can’t endure the squeakity sound balloons make.

Lots of people have sounds they can’t stand: a fork on a chalkboard, fingernails scratching denim, or currency being removed from their wallet. For me, even thinking about the sloppy wet sound of flesh being ground into sausage gives me the willies. For my wife, it’s the rubbing of balloons.

So the other reason I’ve been in front of a computer a lot recently is because I finally found a secondary trade to pursue; even better, one that wasn’t going to result in harm to myself. It’s surprisingly similar to my own threatening letter work: I’m studying to become a professional lobbyist for fringe special interest groups.

Some of these groups actually have ideas I could get behind. “Resurrect the little dinosaurs” for instance. I mean, I know my kids would love chasing a little compsognathus around in a petting zoo pen. Eradicating volcanoes seems like a worthy cause, too. One group, operating on the theory “if you build it, they will come,” wants the government to construct a bus stop on the moon.

Some of my other favorites:
Talking birds should be allowed to vote.
Let’s use rocket engines to slow earth’s rotation so we actually do have more hours in each day.
“Hella” should be the scientific prefix for 10 to the 27th power.
Humans must be allowed to photosynthesize.
Each state should be required to choose an Official State Pokemon.

The “Monday Anti-Defamation League” claims that if the day of the week is assigned randomly each morning, then all days will share equally the difficult task of following a weekend. They claim it’s the easiest way to end prejudice against Mondays.

One group wants mandatory labeling to indicate the fiction content in all humor columns. Even columns written by amateurs!

The information from this last group I’m going to mention, though, really disturbed me. The People for the Ethical Treatment of Computer Hardware (PETCH) are lobbying for government land to be set aside so that old tired computers can enjoy their last days frolicking in green pastures. Now it’s obvious to me that domesticated computers can't be released back into the wild, since they simply wouldn’t be able to survive, but I didn’t realize what is currently happening in our world. Most obsolete computers, after all those years of service, are being ground into sausage. Yuck. Don’t people realize that computers and food shouldn’t mix?

-I.J. really really wishes the shop vac hadn’t just stolen his last few strips of bacon.