Not One Word, And I Hope a Polar Bear Eats You

Had an awesome idea.

This really old ugly guy was staring back at me from my bathroom mirror. He had Beethoven’s hair…at least, in volume. Lots of split ends, and I don’t wanna know what kind of thin spot he had up top. Nick Nolte’s face, and the Ayatollah Khomenei’s eyebrows. You could hide ball-point pens in those things if you tried. Black anti-Obama tee shirt covered with sawdust from the day’s woodworking projects…

Not the picture of a tree hugger by any stretch. And yet I had five CFLs above that mirror. Two of them unscrewed. And, downstairs, my car has four cylinders — so a thought flashed through my right-wing wood-carving old-man-head.

This video might have contributed to that thought. But I had the thought. I have a new campaign in mind.

Next time I’m asked to make a personal sacrifice to save the planet, I want the very first subject in that conversation to be bathroom lighting. I want to know how many light bulbs the enviro-lecturer has in his bathroom. Then I want to know how many of them are unscrewed.

There is no reason for a bathroom to be fully lit. Seriously. If you’re doing that to keep mildew and mold from growing so you don’t have to clean as often, that’s just gross. Nobody in his right mind wants all that light during the two a.m. tinkle…and you damn sure don’t have any call to go lecturing me about conserving to save the planet.

You want to lecture me about saving the planet — you have some light bulbs in your bathroom unscrewed. And your car has four cylinders or less. You do those two things, you can talk. That is all that buys you, the privilege of talking to me. Changing my mind is the next hurdle, and that one might be a bit tougher. But there’s no point you even worrying about that, before you reach the first step.

To say word one — word one — you need to bring those two things. Unscrewed bathroom light bulbs and a four-cylinder car.

Otherwise, not one f*cking word and I hope a polar bear eats you.

I like this. I like it a lot. I might have a new tee shirt printed up. A black or dark gray one, for my woodworking projects.

Update: Come to think of it, if you’re going to b*tch about tax cuts costing money…aside from qualifying as a clueless dipsh*t according to Item #7 on my list of ways to give yourself away as one…I want to know how much extra money you’re sending off to the IRS each year since you think it’s so outrageous that your taxes are too low.

Dollars, cents, maybe even the check number and date. Or else Not One F*cking Word And I Hope a Polar Bear Eats You.

Cross-posted at House of Eratosthenes and Washington Rebel.

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