"I'm thinking about cutting back on my drinking. I hear it helps when your trying to lose weight. It'll be hard though. Two parts gin, five parts pancake syrup,Belgian garnish. What can I say, I love my waffletini."

Captain Planet. Worst super hero of all time. Fought pollution,yet his weakness was pollution. It's like Superman only fighting Kryptonite. Those kids would always summon that poor bastard right into an industrial smog too. Setting him up for failure from the start. Why didn't the one kid, whose "power" was "heart", ever speak up. "Hey guys maybe we should call Planet a few blocks away, let him formulate a plan so he doesn't look like an asshole.."

"Playing Baseball as a kid was great.Even more,I enjoy watching games now,as an adult.While the staples remain,it's not all as I remember.Most of the kids,even in the outfield,are wearing helmets.Some,enjoy the luxury of being pushed around the bases in chairs.Uniforms? Since when were teams being issued pajama "onsies"? It's sad, so much has changed.These kids must realize it too, because all they seem to do, is cry."

"The regulars at the unemployment office are starting to speak out regarding the increasing surge. A Wilmington man, laid-off as recently as three years ago,went on record saying,"This is ridiculous, look at all these people, I have to get up at seven, just to get down here." When asked about the increasing wait times, the man had this to say," I get stuck waiting in line for hours, I'm a busy man, this is a damn inconvenience."Frustrated, the man went on to add, "Most of these folks need to get a job, it's too much work having to put up with this shit."

"Growing up I was forced to walk two miles to school everyday. My father told me it was good for character. Hearing him say that really helped. What didn't help, was watching him as he drove by in his car, on his way to work, at the school."

"I found some money in the parking garage. It's a lot of money. I put up a lost and found flier in the mail room. I wouldn't feel good about myself if didn't attempt to find the owner. As long as they can tell me the exact amount, individual serial numbers, origin of mint, applicable treasury secretary, and submit a 2,500 word essay explaining how kind and considerate I am, I would be more than happy to hand it over."

Sorry Jay, but we've already put a man on the moon. America should continue that trend though. To continue being the first to put things on the moon, like a couch. yeah we have a flag, but nothing says "I own the moon" like a couch. When the Dutch stop throwing rocks a"s high as they can, and start a legitimate space program, I want them to feel welcome when they finally visit "our" moon."

"Nearly 47% of high schoolers experience "hazing" during their freshman year.",said the school counselor during orientation."These humiliating and sometimes painful acts,correlate with the desperate need for students to fit in."

Strategic planning led me to believe I could avoid any unwelcome initiation. Joining the football team would lead to some type of anal abuse. Quoting Hamlet in a dress for the Drama Club was reasonable but lame. Finally, it came down to Chess club or Math Team. This should have been an easy choice,but I still wasn't sure.
I met with the leaders of both groups in the cafeteria and asked, "what will It take to get accepted into your clubs?" Looking at each other, then back at me, Math Guy,"a love for the Metric System?" Then Chess Guy,"knowledge of basic opening principles?" I pondered over the future of my reputation.

After punching Chess Guy squarely in his "rooks" and beating Math Guy within a "foot" of his life, I remembered my prior social obligation.

I was the school bully.

I once overheard a girl in my sixth grade French class say she needed money for lunch. Going so far to say that she would sell her soul for a cheeseburger. I wouldn't consider myself religious, superstitious, or even familiar with most major holidays. But, I know an opportunity when I see one.

I offered her three dollars in exchange for a handwritten document giving me custody of her soul. She agreed. I don't know why I did it. There really isn't a "Blue Book" type system in place for those things, so I have no idea of it's value. I soon learned that "what-ever-her face's" only ticket into the after world,wasn't worth the "papier" it was written on.

I tried auctioning it on Ebay, bartering with a homeless man who claimed to be the Devil, and even feeding it into a vending machine. Nothing. Not anticipating much of a return on my investment, I was determined to reunite that poor girl with her useless soul. Problem is, sixth grade was almost 15 years ago, and I had no reason to keep in touch with a soulless nobody.

Seeing how Christmas was right around the corner, and some of her old friends would be in town visiting family, I did what any guy in my shoes would do. I packaged it neatly in a manila envelope, took it in to town, and mailed it to Santa.
I think this year, when she wakes up bright and early, and checks under her Menorah, she'll be pleasantly surprised.

An almost daily posting of abstract, nonsensical, rants and rambles.

Occasionally I'll respond to some fan mail, so if you've got something you'd like to say, shoot me an email.

morsecodeishard@gmail.com

Go ahead, see if you can crack the code...

- Will Morse