Somebody needs to give me the present of Kleenex, because using the rough but free (the company provides) paper towel to combat my allergies is the equivalent of cleaning off your camera lens with sandpaper.

I can't tell from my current perspective, nor am I willing to look in a mirror find out, but I'm pretty sure my nose has been sniffled and paper towel'd so many times I look like Rudolph.

Did I mention that tonight, I will be attending a BANQUET? You know, the thing where everyone tries to look their absolute bestest? The thing where (keeping in mind this is for a CHINESE softball league) every other person has a digital camera, and me being so naturally aawesome, will be in my fair share of pictures? The thing where I'll actually be UP ON STAGE!?

It's been proven over and over again, that stuff happens at the most inopportune time:

- Traffic Lights, slow cars and traffic accidents all conspiring to add to your frick-I'm-late-for-work frustations
- Injuring oneself before (arguably) the biggest game of your softball season
- David "Big Papi" Ortiz getting a weird heart condition, contributing to the fastest sinking ship that is MY-fantasy-baseball-winner-league-team
- Leaving your wallet in that other pair of pants sitting at home, on the day cops finally decide to pull you over for doing fifty-five in a fifty-fo'.

Not everything on that condensed bullet point list has happened to me. I was speaking hypothetically. I call it...

... hypothetikanese.

And clearly, when one is making up words, one is allowed to spell them however one wants.

Before, I go on, I must apologize to you my loyal readers, because I feel I have certain obligations when it comes to posting, and my last entry failed to meet a certain standard. You see, there are particular things/themes that I have set out to include in most blog posts, and I will continue beating them into a pulp until I see fit.

SNAKES ON A PLANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...will continue to be included in each post until I finally watch the glorious thing.

Back to my point. When bad things (bad things, bad thiiiinngs) happen, as bad as the situation may seem, I challenge you to look past it, and see how it accentuates the good things that happen to you, that so often are taken for granted.

The little victories in life.

If you hit every green light on the way home from anywhere, when you arrive at your destination, you must get out of your car, get up onto the roof, and do a little victory dance.

If you happen to be doing your laundry, which is usually located in the basement level, knowing full well how much of an annoyance it is to walk downstairs twice/thrice, and you walk into the room JUST as the cycle finishes, feel free to jump up in glee.

And, as demonstrated by me today, when one tosses scrunched-up paper towel into a garbage can located 5 feet away, you're allowed to get up off your chair, put your hands up in the air, lean wit' it rock wit' it, let your shoulder lean, two step then let your shoulder lean, do the chicken noodle soup, do the chicken noodle soup, chicken noodle soup with a soda on the side, and then snap yo fingers.

My dancing skills are on par with Sean Paul's ability to enunciate his words.

Non. Existent.

I wonder what the "next big dance move" will be, and I hope it's in the form of "Shake it like a ________ ", where "_________" has (not so) recently been Polaroid picture, salt-shaker, snow-globe, rattle and Michael J. Fox.

What's shakin' bacon?

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Yesterday night, my mother got so excited about the astoundingly low gas prices that she not only filled up her car's tank, but drove home and took my ghetto Jetta for a refueling session as well.

She was so excited she managed to not notice the fact that I had already filled it up, and only discovered this upon over-pumping my tank. If you ever wondered what happens if you decide to ignore the automatic sensors that release the pump trigger (I really don't know what else to call it) when the time is right, then wonder no more. Yes, the gas really does gush out of the tank and all over your clothes and does collect into a puddle at your feet.

Not to rain on anybody's parade, but am I the only person who finds the sudden drop in gas prices supremely suspicious? Almost as if the government has finally figured out a way to dilute our gas with water, and still charge us more than we should be paying, but relatively less than what we were paying. I wouldn't be surprised if cars start exploding mysteriously (unstable oil/water interactions...that...makes no sense), or if some idiot discovers that the oil tastes like Coca Cola.

Remember, if that happens, you heard it here first, at Stupefying Stupidity.

I would like to know what they attribute this lowering-in-cost of oil to, because for one, the Middle East is NEVER stable and has not been for the past few hundred years. For two, last I checked, oil isn't one of those easily renewable resources we find on this earth.

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I'm pretty sure I'll be done after this last bit.

With the liquids-as-bombs plot being foiled last week, it isn't hard to see that terrorists are brainstorming newer and more creative forms of plane-terrorism.

For example, snakes, on a plane.

But, I must begrudgingly admit, this one tops them all. I call it, IDIOT PILOT ON A PLANE. To be fair, the door malfunctioned, but imagine the headlines if the pilot locked himself out of the cockpit for reals, and it wasn't the doors fault, and the plane crashed. Horrifically humerous.

And yeah, I realize that made me sound like a horrible person.

As an endnote, I wonder if George Bush would have blamed Iran for this somehow, and then gone on to preemptively invade them?