The Hood

So I had to take one of my neighbor kids to the hospital today. I have to say please don't try this. I say this because 80% of the people who read this are at this very moment, or will suddenly find themselves more idiotic than a clown performing surgery. So seriously, don't try this. Honestly I can't afford to take everyone to the damn hospital. I'm certain the doctors would love it, and a brand new industry of hole patching could cause an economic boom, but just don't.

At any rate, the neighbor kids have been annoying myself and everyone else within a one block radius of their overpowered sound system with Angry Birds. You know what it is. If you don't then crawl out from under that rock in 1999 and join the rest of us in this depressed world where shooting pigs with birds is a fun night.

Anyway, because kids are kids, the steam from Angry Birds eventually dried up. At first it was sort of funny, watching them in the back yard. They started by throwing balloons with little pictures of birds on them at each other. Its all about escalation though. That very quickly graduated into real birds. You see we have quite an abundance of quail and pigeons here, and no one is too fond of them. When they first started they would run into the back yard with nets screaming, from two different directions trying to confuse the birds. Right away they caught a few quail that, quite honestly, didn't have a damn clue on what to do and just froze.

Then, the kids took turns playing the pigs, one of them would stand up on a stack of wood, and the other would throw half broken quail at them. I have to admit. I'm kinda morbid and I thought it was funny. At least I didn't have to listen to that damn theme song anymore.

Then it escalated again. Suddenly, birds were wizzing at my house, being shot from the end of a potato gun. Off in the faint distance, just before the splat of the bird on the back of my house I would hear "angry birds - da da!"

It was too much for me when the beak of a twisted and half featherless pigeon hit my ass. I mean its one thing to have a fresh clean bird smack into you, but another thing entirely for a recycled and mostly mangled pigeon to nail you.

Anyway, much to my pleasure that little phase didn't last long. You got it. Another escalation. They decided angry birds wasn't going to cut it anymore. So they started playing angry boards. You might ask, just what is an angry board. If you, like me you are morbid, you might just be able to guess. If not, I will fill you in. It involves jagged edges, nails, staples, and sticky crap stuck to the end.

I didn't get a proper introduction this game though. I just heard "angry board - da da," over my fence one day. Then I heard, "Kyle, are you okay? Kyle?"

I let it sit for a minute. Until they crying started. I walked back carefully over the landmine field of dead birds. I peeked over the fence, and there, laying crumpled on the floor was the younger of my little bastard neighbor kids. Now before you start accusing me of letting some terrible child abuse okay you should know he was fine. Just a little stunned, and covered in sticky crap. Oh, and with a hole in his shoulder, shaped suspiciously like a nail.

That it. The story doesn't really have a point. Well, maybe it does. Don't let your kids play Angry Birds. If you do they will end up impailing each other with sticky two by fours loaded with nails. Trust me.

The Jagged Edge

So I fell asleep last night and the strangest thing happened. I woke up somewhere else. I know what you are thinking, stupid sleepwalker, go to a clinic. Well screw you buddy, what do you know. Why don't you go to a clinic and have someone help you with your being an asshole. If you aren't in fact an asshole, and have stuck around then I'm sorry. After you've read my story here you'll probably understand a little better.

Anyway, back to what I was saying. So I woke up somewhere lese. I don't mean I had a nice night of sleep, I mean I remember drifting off, and then suddenly I'm awake somewhere else. Now I'm not talking about some nice Narnia like place. No lions and half goat people offering me tea. Just a couple of crack whores looking at me wondering if I have enough money to take them to a room so they can exchange infected bodily fluids with me.

It was dark, so I assumed it was night, but the amount of bustling activity on the street made me wonder. It was like a busy New York morning, not like midnight, which is what is looked like based on the lighting. It was warm too, too warm for New York, but too many buildings for some place like Phoenix. On top of that, every person I asked the simple question of "where the hell am I?" just ignored me or laughed at me.

I ran across this giant statue after I walked a few blocks. The statue itself was nearly two stories tall, and was probably the only thing that made me think cheesy fantasy movie. There in front of me stood what looked like a huge half bull, half dragon, made of stone. Giant gray wings rose from its back and whip was in its hand, wrapped around its wrist, and suspended in stone in the air in front of it. Honestly, all I could think was, "Okay...where is Gandalf."

I walked a bit further an noticed that one of the needle pushers from the alley I woke up in was following me. I turned, and he rushed me. He grabbed me by the collar, and hissed at me, almost like a snake.

"Wheresss my moneeey..."

Seriously. Back off Voldemort. "What money?" I don't remember having any kind of an exchange with this guy.

"You sssslept in miyyy alleeey..."

Come on man. Harry Potter wants his villian back. "Did I forget to pay rent," I joked.

"Daaamn sssstraight..."

Then suddenly: shiny knife in the air, reflection of his angry blue eyes against the blade, and a twinge of pain. I hit the ground. I didn't even see it coming.

Then I woke up. Blood on my bed, knife wound, and quite a bit of pain.

I'll let you know how it turns out.

The Aftermath of My Brilliant Invention

So as it turns out my brilliant invention is a total bust. Don't get me wrong it sold like wildfire. The problem is now I have a bunch of angry housewives on my tail. You see it all started with the mistake of using artificial intelligence for the damn program for the talking bathroom floor. We though this would make the thing have more useful and witty things to say.

We scoured the Internet looking for code for an appropriate AI and tried several different packages. We finally found one that we thought would work. I didn't know where it came from, but my intial exposure to it led me to believe it was smart, witty, and a angry. I thought - "this one is perfect!" What better personality for this type of thing.

We rushed it through manufacture, skipped the testing, and launched right into development of the product. Bad idea, seriously bad idea. There were immediate problems. The first day, we got calls saying things like "my husband won't come out of the bathroom," and "the urine on the floor has doubled, this thing doesn't work at all."

Of course we had to get to the bottom of it as quickly as possible. So naturally I installed one at the office. A week went by with no reports of problems. Actually, my mostly male staff said they loved it. I thought, that is weird...maybe people are nuts. I was SO wrong.

After a week I used the office bathroom. There was urine everywhere. On the floor, on the wall, in the paper towel dispenser, even a little on the ceiling. I couldn't believe it. How could things have gone so wrong. Then I heard it.

"Hey baby."

Hey baby? Seriously, what the hell was this? Oh, it was the floor. Doing its talking.

"I'm feeling awefully cold daddy."

Hmm? Daddy? That was a little embarrassing.

"How about you warm me up?" it asked in an alluring tone.

"How do you propose I do that?" I queried back an in almost mocking tone.

"You know!" It barked, as it shook a little, making me almost lose my footing. "Give me that Yukon Gold Daddy!"

Oh crap. I walked quickly out of the bathroom, slamming the door as it said a few things that I found embarrasing, something about showering in my man beer or something like that. Also, I think there was a movie reference in there, something abouut tasting the bubbles.

I quickly ran to the tech guys and asked the only question that could be asked. "Where the hell did we get that AI?"

The guys looked at each other and smiled, and it was only then that I noticed they were all completely soaked in urine. "GoldenFetish.com"

Crap.

Anyway, long story short - if you want a floor that invites you to piss all over it, and tells you what a big hunk you are for doing it, we've got your floor.