The ruination of the world, and other trivial things

by Ken Carpenter

A small load of crap

This story was done in June of 2006, so pay no attention to lines that make no sense now. I am also pleased to say that in 2007 my wife Joy and I moved into a nicer home, complete with a heat pump, so I no longer have swelter in my own juices in my bedroom.
On the whole, this story deals bunk because I couldn’t think of anything else to write at the time.

The ruination of the world, and other trivial things

As I sit here broken hearted,
I try to think but can not get started.
And so, my brain, milked dry of wit,
Shall have to settle for pure bullshit.

Some days it does not pay to get out of bed. The only consolation is that my bedroom will probably reach the temperature of a nuclear reactor by 10:00 AM, further thickening the ample supply of pollen that haunts me like a flatulent brother-in-law.
Scientists agree that global warming has caused plants to produce more pollen, and we have only the greed of mankind to blame. The bees must be happy campers, but I have met people this spring who are having allergies for the first time in their life, so most humans are not buzzing with glee over the changes.
It is the most natural thing in the world for folks to grumble though. One of the main things they gripe about is the weather, unless they live next door to that brother-in-law I mentioned. I’m no different, and the only thing that can stop me from complaining about sneezing and wheezing is watching the thermometer soar above 90 degrees. Heat is hot, and since I’m not a horny toad I don’t like it.
TV commercials would lead you to believe that there could be nothing better than sizzling heat, and I have to admit that the hordes of scantily clad women jiggling to and fro could influence the unwary. Problem is, if I were there the sweat running in my eyes would keep me from enjoying the scenery, and the fact that I was trying to enjoy it would likely earn me a rib cracking from my wife. If there is one thing I know about misery it is that it is miserable, and it should not be sought out because it will find you soon enough.
I wish I was the Dictator of the Universe, I’d set a few things straight. First off, “No Torment For Kenny!” No temperature over 74 degrees, all pollen goes straight to where it needs to go and avoids my swollen beak and watery eyes, no bruised ribs for ogling those who live only to be ogled, no warm beer (unless there is none chilled), all tasty foods only make you skinnier, all toilets have massagers in the seat so you don’t get that unsightly ring and numb legs when you read one too many articles, and please, no three-bean salads at the company picnic.
Those little chores would start my first day in office off right, and I’m sure my reign would be a benevolent one. Of course, the rich would all become poor, the poor would become rich and the middle class would become richer. Texas would have a 100’ fence put around it and all criminals would be locked in to create their own society. I’m sure they would get along well with the Texas Republicans, who would be too crooked to be allowed to leave. Law abiding citizens who happened to be mean bullies would be locked into New York City, where they would have to listen Barbra Streisand for 24 hours a day until they changed their ways.
Last but not least, hot dogs with ketchup would be outlawed.
Sigh, I guess maybe I wouldn’t be a good dictator after all.
I’d just be a self-serving lout like every other leader in the world today.