By the time you read this, the presents under the tree all will have been unwrapped and returned from whence they came, credit card statements the length of War and Peace are in the mail, and veins and arteries are gasping for air, clogged with cholesterol from absorbing gallons of rum-infused eggnog. As a follow-up to my Interesting, but Stupid facts in my last column, I thought I’d take another stab at something I did for a column some months back, and that was to see what information we human life forms have googled. If you happen to be a human life form and you’ve used Google to search for something, you’ve probably noticed that before you finish entering your request, Google offers suggestions based on what others have searched for.
The following questions are real. They’ve been gleaned from many long hours of scouring the Internet, deftly avoiding any physical labor my wife had planned for me. My comments following the questions are an attempt to offer a heartfelt response to the googler’s serious inquiry, no matter how inane and stupid those inquiries are.
• Who do I look like?
Attila the Hun.
• Why can’t I pee?
You may not have a bladder.
One favorite from my previous search still shows up:
• Why is there a dead Pakistani on my couch?
I wish I had a nickel for every time someone’s asked me that.
Truly a classic. But I digress.
• Why is there a dead mouse in my toilet?
Because there was already a dead Pakistani on the couch.
• Why should I care?
If you’ve already had your security deposit returned, don’t.
• Why can’t I fly after a colonoscopy?
While you were under the anesthetic, the doctor clipped your wings.
• Do chickens have nipples?
Of course. You probably never noticed because of their brassiers.
• Do chickens lay eggs?
Yes, and then they nurse them with their nipples.
• Why is a potato called a potato?
The name Elvis was already taken.
• Do wombats poop cubes?
No. They poop polyhedrons.
• Do zombies poop?
• How do aliens poop?
I believe the person googling the previous three questions has a weird fixation.
• Do aliens make bubble noises?
Yes, when they poop.
• How old am I?
Old enough to know to steer clear of aliens making bubble noises.
• Can a senator lie?
Rarely. Only when their lips are moving.
• Will the army take anyone?
Obviously. They took me.
• Do zombies dream of undead sheep?
They dream of undead weasels.
• Do elves eat meat?
I’m not sure, but Santa did have only five reindeer pulling his sleigh this year.
• Why is there hair in my weed?
Your supplier was out of steel wool.
• Do aliens get high?
Yes, if they smoke hairy weed.
• Can my brain explode?
Mine is about to.
Before that happens thereby ruining my day, and continuing my modus operandi of being a day late and a dollar short, I can’t sign off this week without a bit of educational holiday cheer for the holiday that’s just passed. Here are the words to “Jingle Bells” roughly translated into the dead language of Latin. I learned this holiday ditty more than 50 years ago in high school when I was uploaded against my will into an advanced Latin class to study the classic version of Latin. Due to the ingesting of mass quantities of alcohol over the years, this translation has been permanently preserved in my brain along with other useful items, such as the steps required to successfully fire a bazooka.
Tinitus, tinnitus, semper tinnitus.
O tantum est gaudium dum vehemor in traha.
Tinitus, tinnitus, semper tinnitus.
O tantum est gaudium dum vehemor in traha.
These lyrics in a dead language should come in handy if you happen to be at a Christmas séance, communicating with a dead Roman ancestor whom you wish to entertain. Even if this opportunity doesn’t present itself or we never find out if zombies poop, try to have a Happy New Year.