Inside Doug's Head

It is never too late to become wise.

May contain scenes of violence, sexuality, fowl language about ducks and chickens, prolonged gratuitous nudity for fun, sexual situations involving horses, graphic moral debasment of an adorable midget wearing a posh suit, meandering geriatric stories about onion prices during the Crimean War, drug use, suicide, and smoking.

Wait, what? Smoking? Really? I was all-in until I saw that one. What is up with entertainment trigger warnings these days? They seem to be getting overly sensitive about everything.

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You know how E. coli and email are different things? Although they both start with an E, they are very different. Too much of one can make you sick, and the other is a strain of bacteria. Or, how a Ponzi scheme is different from a Fonzi scheme? Ayyyy! Sit on the pointy pyramid! Words that sound similar, or start or end with the same letter, well sometimes they aren’t the same things. Sometimes, they are different. Like, goat and gout. Having to convalesce in bed to recover from an attack of the goat might be a routine thing up in your country, but it’s not very common around here, so don’t get them mixed up.

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Since I am not really very good at being around people—I tend to inadvertantly say and do things that horrify them and make them cry—I’m always on the lookout for tips that will make the unsettling aspects of meeting people and engaging them in conversation a little bit easier for me, and for them. One clever suggestion that I came across is to, when meeting people for the first time, ask them for a simple favor. The act of helping you out will form a lightweight personal bond that can serve as a starting point for further conversations. A short while ago, I had the opportunity to put this social tactic to the test, with not so favorable results. Although, I think I may have misinterpreted what was meant by a simple favor, because the people helping me out were eagerly helping me out the door. For some reason, whenever people call me Sir, they feel compelled to add, You’re causing a disturbance.

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On that day, Linda was supposed to be in the control room monitoring the pressure readings while drilling was in progress. Sadly, she wasn’t there. Instead, she was away, taking care of some personal business. Dirty, sinful business. She was off getting some things down on paper, if you catch my meaning. She was gone… pooping. During the accident investigation, it was assumed that the fire and subsequent explosion were the result of that bean she ate the day before. Linda was always eating beans and lentils, often with explosive results.

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