Hey Buttheads, You Aren't Doing Your Jobs

So, that little "followers" widget thing has been sitting at 33 for a really long time, I don't know if you noticed. I hope you didn't notice, because if you noticed and didn't DO anything about it, I should punch you in the face. 

Here's how this works. I write hilarious and mind-opening blog posts about stuff that is dumb and then YOU read the posts and laugh at how awesome they are and then tell everyone you meet on the street (yeah, homeless people might have internet access too) so that I get more followers than Fred has on Facebook. That's the deal here. I've been doing my part, and you all have been sucking.

Oh, yeah, I know what you're saying. "Sceb, you haven't been doing your part. You missed last week's update and everything." It's called QUALITY OVER QUANTITY, jerk face, look it up. It means it doesn't matter how many blog posts I write as long as they're the greatest thing since sliced bread. And they are. Anyone who says otherwise is wrong, and they probably smell. 

"But Sceb," you continue because you don't seem to have learned your lesson about talking back and you need more whippings, "doesn't quality over quantity apply to what we do too? Wouldn't you rather have fewer, more loyal followers than a bunch of random people?" No I wouldn't rather have that! Did you not read what I posted above? The point is to have more people than Fred! Not BETTER people than Fred. I already know I have better followers than Fred. I get tons of email saying how they're my biggest fan and would gladly help me take over the world just to let them know when! Fred gets, like, no emails like that. (Mostly because if I see any of those come into the inbox I delete them, but that's another story.)

So help me help YOU. Help me. Help me help you help me. What do I need to do here to get you off your lazy butts and spreading news of Stupid Stuff is Stupid to every human being on earth? Write more? Reply to your idiotic comments like JKR tells me I should? Hand out cookies? WHAT?!

ABOUT the AUTHOR: Sceb the space chicken is confused why you dimtwits aren't doing your part to take down Fred the Monkey's ego, and is convinced it isn't his own fault. 

More like Soap on a Dope!

I went to WalMart yesterday. I go there to stare at the greeters and make them uncomfortable. I just stand on the other side of the glass doors and look at them until they come over and ask if I need help and then I tell them “no” and go see if they've got any good sales on DS games. Anyway, on my way to the video games, which are in the back of the store by the way which is stupid because how many people go there to buy clothes? They put the clothes in the front of the store when everyone knows people go to WalMart to buy cheap, crappy electronics, so they really should put the games in the front so I don't have to walk as far. Jerks.

What was I saying? Right, walking through WalMart. I was almost halfway there, and slightly out of breath, when I meandered past the Health and Beauty product section. There's a wealth of S.S.I.S. topics right there, but what was most odd was one aisle completely stocked with different colored bottles of soap. Yes, there is an entire ROW at the store with soap. Not a shelf. Not even a section of a row. THE WHOLE THING.

What's worse is, there were a few people there buying some of the soap that was super expensive. I figured maybe they were blind so I'd do a good deed (really I just wanted to yell at them) and I went over and said “Excuse me, but I believe you're making a small error and I'd like to help you.”

Ha ha, yeah right, I actually said “Hey dummy, what the biscuit do you think you're doing?” (What am I, the Pope?) They looked at me funny and I showed them that the bottles of soap on the bottom shelf called “Value-wiz” were, like, half the price of the ones they were buying. They said something totally idiotic like “I like this brand better” or some garbage and walked away. I thought about drop kicking them in the butt, but I'm already on probation at WalMart from the last time I tipped over the $5 DVD bin looking for copies of Rush Hour 3 (aka the BEST Rush Hour). How else are you supposed to see what's at the bottom? It's not my fault they stock their DVDs like imbeciles.

Which brings me to my point today. Whoever thinks Rush Hour 1 or 2 was superior is clearly a moron. No, wait, that's not it. It's that soap is SOAP, by definition, and if you spend more because one bottle has a prettier label then you are completely stupid beyond belief.

Let's look at soap for a minute. The purpose of soap is to get things clean. If soap does not get something clean, it is NOT SOAP. It is something else that does not get things clean. So if you buy soap and it doesn't get things clean, then you just return it and say “Hey, crackpot, I bought this mysterious goo from your store and some dimwit filled the bottle with something that isn't soap. Give me twice my money back or I'll sue you into next week!”

And the idea that one soap could be better than another soap makes no sense. What is it going to do, get something MORE clean? THERE IS NO SUCH THING. If you have a clean car, you can't wash it again to get it MORE clean. If you can get it MORE clean do you know what it was after you washed it the first time? DIRTY. It was never clean. If the front of your SUV is shiny and waxed and the back is totally covered in mud, your SUV is not clean. So the idea that there is some super soap that makes things extra clean is asinine and idiotic. Especially when that super soap is like eight bucks a bottle. No sir, I'll stick with the regular soap that does the exact same thing for 99 cents, thank you very much. And while you're at it, throw in a copy of The Land Before Time 7 from that DVD bargain bin. They really knocked it out of the park with that sequel.

ABOUT the AUTHOR: Sceb the space chicken is a famous life coach, and tries to save people money if they would stop being stupid idiots and just take his amazing advice.

What is this I don't even

Alright, when I started this blog I thought I might enjoy complaining about some odd things here and there that I came across. And yeah, it’s called Stupid Stuff is Stupid. But I had no idea that just a few weeks into this venture I’d come across something so mind-bogglingly DUMB that it would make my head hurt. Here’s the story.

At our house Space Chicken keeps the scissors locked in a cabinet above the fridge, because at some point or another Fred found out that you shouldn’t run with scissors and said he was going to “stick it to the man” by running with them all he wanted. He got cut up a lot, but sadly didn’t impale himself or anything before SC took them all away. Anyway, now SC carries the key with him at all times and some days I get a new DS game when he isn’t home and have to wait for him to get back before I can open it. Those plastic seals are a pain in the butt when you don’t have fingernails. Or fingers.

So I decided to get a pair for myself secretly to keep in my desk where Fred wouldn’t find them. He went in my desk once, and let’s just say when he got out of the hospital three weeks later he could barely remember his name, let alone that I had drawers in my desk. I went down to Lowes Home Improvement Store, where I assumed they would have scissors since they have all sorts of things to cut other things with. (As a side note, it’s stupid that they no longer have the power tools plugged in at all times, it used to be a lot to fun to turn them all on and see who could cut through the garage doors first.)

You can imagine my delight when I found a bin full of cheap scissors for sale. You can also imagine my long, confused stare when I pulled this out of the bin:

So… what you might notice (as I did) is that these scissors are sealed in tear-proof plastic. There is also a plastic pull-tie on the handles. Plastic that you would, you know, need to cut off before use. Need to cut off… with… SCISSORS.

Yeah, that’s right. You need to USE the thing that is sealed in plastic to OPEN the thing that is sealed in plastic. So if you don’t already own a pair of scissors, you are SCREWED. You can never open them. Unless, I guess, you go buy a saw, which ironically are not wrapped in plastic. In fact, the dangerous multi-toothed saws have no protective measures on them at all. 

I guess they’re concerned that someone might hurt themselves while removing the scissors from the large bin of scissors. At first this frustrates me, because as a competent individual who is unlikely to JAM HIS ARM into a vat of scissors to remove a pair, I would frankly like to see those people who are dumb enough to do that DO THAT. Maybe they’d learn a lesson when they removed their arm and found dozens of blades lodged in their flesh. 

But once that frustration passes, okay, I can see the safety issue there, sure. So then maybe DON’T STORE SCISSORS IN A GIANT BIN. Would it kill you to just hang them like you do the saws? Clearly you don’t fear people running over to the saw display and grinding their faces against the jagged edges. Though you probably should, and while we’re on the subject I think you should have a background check on anyone who buys a nail gun, because the other day Fred came home with one without any trouble. Thankfully he didn’t understand that you also needed an air compressor for it to work. (“That’s stupid,” he said, “air is free, I’m not going to pay for it just because it’s in a big metal container!”) The point is, there has to be some other solution than rendering the items you’re selling worthless without having first obtained the item you’re selling. 

Maybe instead of making newly purchased scissors useless without previously purchased scissors to open them with, you could just put up a little sign that says “Hey morons, scissors are sharp.” Surely that will cover all the legal bases for when said morons cut themselves because they didn’t bother reading your sign. And if it doesn’t, well then the legal system is clearly broken and needs reworked. Signs that start with “Hey morons” should be a cover-all against lawsuits.

ABOUT the AUTHOR: Sceb the space chicken is a licensed attorney at law specializing in how to protect yourself from stupid people. His law license may or may not be forged. 

Gotta HAND it to you, KERCHIEFS are stupid.

You know what doesn’t make a lot of sense? Handkerchiefs. For those of you who are young and don’t bother learning stuff thanks to the internet and Wikipedia so you don’t know what that is, a handkerchief is a small square of fabric that you keep in your pocket and functions like a permanent Kleenex. They don’t use them a whole lot anymore, except to look dapper and snooty when you get all dressed up. And even then, most of the time they’re FAKE handkerchiefs that are just there to make you look cooler than you really are. 

But ignoring the fact that we MAYBE have figured out how stupid handkerchiefs are these days, what kind of brain-dead imbecile EVER thought it was a good idea? So, let’s think about this. You are an upscale gentleman or proper lady. You feel a sneeze coming on. Quickly you remove your convenient handkerchief and delicately exhale boogers into the cloth. Then you fold it up and put it back in your pocket. Um… EWW?

I understand that in “the old days” they didn’t know about things like germs. Heck, they used hacksaws as operating tools and probably didn’t bother washing them off before or afterward. But still, if you secrete some sort of slime from your body doesn’t it make sense that you wouldn’t then put that slime into your pocket? That’s like keeping your toenail clippings in jars. That’s weird.

Worse still is the fact that a chivalrous thing to do in these days of old was to OFFER your handkerchief to a woman who perhaps was tearing up over a play at the theater, or a puppy that had been run over by a horse and carriage. “Here my good lady,” you’d exclaim, handing over your disease filled snot rag, “do dry your tears and try not to worry.”

Key words being DISEASE FILLED SNOT RAG.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Sceb, we don’t really do that sort of thing anymore. Doesn’t that prove we’ve gotten less stupid?” No. No it doesn’t. Shut your stupid face. That we carry on this sick tradition by including handkerchief-like pocket squares in our tuxedo rentals proves that we’re still idiots and think that sort of practice was a good one. Well, that YOU people are idiots. I don’t rent tuxedos. I buy mine. From a little sweatshop in Canada that sells knockoffs. You’d be surprised how many people think Georgo Armanni is the proper way to spell that brand name.

Bonus fun fact: I had no idea that handkerchiefs was spelled that way until I wrote this post. I thought it was hankerchiffs. Learn something new every day. Something totally and completely useless and new.

ABOUT the AUTHOR: Sceb the space chicken does not know what idiot invented disease filled snot rags that you keep in your pocket, but if he had to bet he'd say it was a grave-digger who needed more business but didn't want to out-right stab people.

Traffic Part 2: The End of Traffic

So last week I talked about how stupid traffic was, and how it doesn’t make any sense why it should even happen. Let’s continue, shall we?

For laughs, let’s say there ISN’T some son of a biscuit who starts rush hour every day on purpose. Let’s say that no one TRIES to make traffic during rush hour. Here’s what I don’t understand. What sort of team of raving lunatics designed the highway in a way that traffic could take place on its own?

Seriously, did they sit around and say to one another “Well, every single place in the WHOLE WORLD during the hours of 4PM – 6PM there is an unbelievable amount of traffic and everyone just sits there, but you know what? That’s surely won’t happen here! Just everywhere else on Earth!” Then they all heartily agree and drink ice tea while they count their money and copy and paste the design for the highway from some old highway they designed years ago. An old highway that has just as much traffic as this new one will, because they are idiots. I could do a better job myself, and I didn’t even go to school for it. Here’s my plan for a perfect road:

BAM. No traffic. There can’t be, because there’s no merge points or tunnels or toll booths or traffic lights. I just SOLVED TRAFFIC. Someone give me a trophy. 

“But Sceb,” I hear you lament, which is just a fancy word for ‘whine,’ “I live in a city where the road was already designed by someone who was not as smart or handsome as you, and traffic is a problem!” Well that sucks for you, huh? Maybe next time you’ll call me in to help BEFORE you make stupid choices. But I’m feeling pretty good today, what with just solving all future traffic for the world, so I’m going to help you out.

If we look at the problem behind traffic, it’s, again, that the person in front of you isn’t moving forward. So really, all we have to do is solve that one thing. Here’s what I propose. Put a big huge sign over the road with the numbers 3, 2, 1, and word GO on it. Link them all through the magic of technology (like, over the internet or something) and have them light up all along the highway simultaneously. How it works is that the numbers light up in order 3, 2, 1, GO and when GO lights up everyone slams the accelerator pedal all the way down.

BOOM. Solved. Since everyone is now going, the problem behind traffic is gone. No more stopping because the person in front of you is stopped. That person is now going.

What boggles my mind is that people up to this point have been too dumb to figure out such a simple solution. How long have we had common traffic lights? (I could look it up, but I don’t feel like it. Someone look it up.) It’s the same principal. Just no one applied it to solving any problems other than “how do we get people to not smash into each other when two roads cross?”

So there you go. I gave you the answers, now go out and fix it. If it isn’t fixed by this time next week, I’m going to be PISSED. Get off your lazy butts and fix it, you slugs. I’m not going to do everything for you.

ABOUT the AUTHOR: Sceb the space chicken is an award-winning civil engineer (self proclaimed) who has so many solutions to stupid problems if only people would shut up and listen to him.

If You Own a Car, Read This. Now.

You know what’s really stupid? Traffic.

Why does traffic exist? Does anyone LIKE traffic? The answer is no. No one likes traffic. If you think you like traffic you’re probably confusing what I’m talking about with something else, like pet birds or springtime or something. Traffic is where you sit in a hot car for hours because the idiots in front of you won’t MOVE OUT OF MY WAY. Today I thought I’d take a look at a few aspects of just how stupid traffic is.

Now look, I’m not talking about the kind of traffic that happens when they close a road or some incompetent fathead decides to drive his car into another person’s car for kicks. I’m talking about the “naturally occurring” kind that happens every single stupid day. They call it “rush hour.” As if giving it a name somehow makes it acceptable. WELL IT DOESN’T. You could call it “Happy Puppy Fun Time” and it’s still a miserable nightmare that shouldn’t happen.

First, traffic should not take place. Ever. If the car is not moving in front of you, it is because the car in front of it is not moving. If the car in front of it is not moving, then it’s because the car in front of IT is not moving. And so on and so forth. But you know what? SOMEWHERE A CAR HAS TO BE MOVING. Far, far down the line there are moving cars. There have to be or you aren’t on a road, you’re in the parking lot of WalMart and don’t understand that the countless vehicles in front of you have no drivers because everyone is inside buying cheaply made clothing and crappy movies on DVD for $5 out of bins like a farm animal might eat from. And, to clarify, cars with no drivers do not go, just as an FYI. Unless you leave the parking break off, which is another stupid thing because why would you not just make the car be securely parked when it’s stopped and turned off and how was I supposed to know it would roll down that hill into that pond and kill all those geese? But that’s not the point.

If somewhere there IS a car moving, then logic mandates that the car behind it would also be moving. And the car behind that one would also be moving. And somewhere, 20 miles back, the car I am in should be moving too since there are no cars in front of it NOT moving. That means that at some time during the beginning of rush hour some wise-cracking smart aleck decides to be the first one to stop moving. Well I have a message for that guy: I HATE YOU AND AM GOING TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE.

You know what? I’m so fired up about this issue I can’t even contain it in one blog post. Next week I’m going to write “Traffic Sucks Part 2: Seriously, Traffic Really Sucks.” I’ll think it up while I’m no doubt sitting on the freeway tonight waiting for the imbecile in front of me to GO ALREADY. I know he can hear me honking, I’ve been holding the horn down for 20 minutes straight. 

ABOUT the AUTHOR: Sceb the space chicken is really angry that stuff like traffic exists, and blames everyone else on the road because it sure isn’t HIS fault.

WHAT THE STUPID BISCUIT IS THIS?

MY ADS ARE GONE! I got an email from Google that said "We took away all your money because we wanted to" and now I can't make my million dollars from this blog! What the stupid crappy biscuit-eating scumbag blasted bugger booger biscuits!!!

Well that sucks! The heck with THIS! Why am I even doing a blog then?! Of all the crummy dag-gum lousy buttsniffing thundercatted leprocy-licking messed up evil garbage I've ever heard of!

...

Oh, right. I was supposed to get more fans that Fred. The money was a bonus. ... Okay. Well you people better get to following me then, because I just lost MILLIONS and I need cheered up! (Again, I assume millions. I don't know how much I had before they banned me. It was almost certainly at least two or three million dollars.)

...

You know, maybe this is a good thing. Here I was giving Google all kinds of ad space before, but now I've got ad space to spare and don't have to let those sons of biscuits have a single inch of it! Ha ha, suck on that you stupid giant dirtbag of a company! That'll show you not to mess with Sceb the space chicken: Future Leader of Earth! You don't get a free ride anymore! I can cut out the middle man and just run my OWN ads. Yeah, that's it. From now on I run an ad agency. Sceb's Ad Agency. For Not Losers Like Google.

If you'd like to advertise with SAAFNLLG, send me a check for a thousand dollars. Then I'll put up your ad here and suddenly you'll get a million hits, probably. Guaranteed! (No guarantees.) Best of all, we won't randomly ban you for no conceivable reason and act like idiots! No, we'll give you plenty of good reasons.

Then first act as Dictator of Earth is to crush Google under my boot. Specifically the person who banned me from my million dollars. You hear me, whoever you are? You're TOAST once I take over the Earth. Ha ha ha...

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sceb the space chicken is not someone you want to mess with, Google. You guys are jerks and from now on Sceb is using Yahoo. Yahoo is still around, right?