Safe from the Losing Fight

Grabblin, aka noodling, is the latest craze to be called a “semi-aquatic activity.” But don’t be fooled, it only occurs half in the water.

For the uninitiated, grabblin occurs when a person, the grabblinee, swims around in lakes, rivers, or a 7-Eleven Big Gulp, jamming their hand into any hole they find. Why? Because there might a water moccasin, snapping turtle, or a catfish in the hole, and it would be downright rude not to offer them a bite of the grabblinee’s hand. The idea, apparently, is to lose your entire hand. Unfortunately, the snapping turtles usually just bite off a few fingers and the snakes just inject massive amounts of venom. Neither truly bite off the entire hand, although sometimes the snake’s venom makes it fall off. But that’s only a technical win, not a true win in the real sense of the word. Until they are reduced to a nub for a hand, the grabblinee must continue shoving his or her hand into random holes.

The team version is much the same, but with increased chances of someone drowning.

On the off chance a catfish bites the hand, the shocked grabblinee will immediately surface with it, and hold it aloft in order to save it from drowning. The catfish, approximately the size of a small Buick, is rife with excitement. As a reward for being rescued, the fish performs his favorite Monty Python skit, namely, The Fish Slapping Dance. Clearly, the catfish feels as if he was born to play the part of John Cleese.

Although the origins of this game are shrouded in secrecy, I’m convinced that grabblin was invented by fathers who have daughters. Its not easy to weed out the dumb suitors, but this “semi-aquatic activity” makes it considerably easier. I would imagine the father/daughter conversation would go something like this:

Daughter: Daddy, Daddy, Jeb just asked me to marry him!

Father: How many fingers does he have?

Daughter: (lowers head) Three.

Father: You know know what that means.

Daughter: Yes Daddy.

Father: (retrieving shotgun)

Daughter: (taking shotgun) No Daddy, he’s my boyfriend.

If you’re the sensitive type, then I can assure you this scene ends nothing like Old Yeller. Except for the part where someone sympathetic, yet doomed, is shot. That happens.

Now if you’re like me, at this point you’re wondering why the authorities haven’t gotten involved. Well, fear not, PETA (motto: Ruining one dinner at a time) has gotten involved. No, seriously. These animals suffer severe emotional distress. The catfish alone become despondent when they discover what they thought were worms are actually just the fingers of someone with nothing else better to do, and that they, in fact, cannot breathe air. PETA has learned, that as a result of this, the catfish spend the rest of their lives at the bottom, scavenging on dead fish.

Undoubtedly, PETA will take action to stop these travesties. In unlikely event that writing angry unread letters, fighting for catfish suffrage, and chaining themselves to random pieces of wildlife don’t work, they are willing to travel all the way to their sidewalk to protest. You can’t travel far when you’re chained to a moose. Which is probably for the best, since the meeting of PETA and a grabblinee would probably turn ugly if that ever happened:

Jeb: (holding up a catfish) He’s a beaut, ain’t he Jethro?

Jethro: Yep, sure is.

Trevor: Cease and desist immediately! You’re causing that poor animal emotional distress!

Jeb: …

Jethro: …

Jeb: Um, no. He’s dead. See? They can’t breathe air.

Jethro: Really? Huh.

Trevor: How would you like it if someone did that to you??

Jeb: Well, I can breathe air so…

Trevor: You’re barbarians! Killing animals for any reason is senseless!

Jeb: Look fella, I ain’t the one chained to a moose.

Trevor: That’s for his own protection!

Jeb: Well now, that’s just silly. If you want protection, you need one of these. (Jeb pulls out a shotgun)

Moose: (spooked by the gun) HHHHOOOOONNNKKKK!!!!

(The moose tears off through the woods, trampling poor Trevor.)

Jeb: Wow. That worked out better than I thought.

Jethro: Yep. High three!

However, despite PETA’s best efforts grabblin shows no signs of abating. When asked if they were concerned about further interference from PETA, several grabblinee’s said “No, the moose sorta took care of that for us.” It appears grabblin, and the moose, are here to stay.

So the next time your sitting around on your front porch, playing Russian Roulette, and think “I wish there was something like this, but for under water”, think of grabblin. Its the perfect hobby for people with too much time, alcohol, and/or fingers.

It has recently come to my attention that there are currently no Apple based soap operas. Sure, there’s As the Apple Turns, but it hasn’t been updated in many months. I also have my doubts as to it being a real soap opera; nobody ever got amnesia. What kind of soap opera is that? There’s also Crazy Apple Rumors, which occasionally reads like a soap opera, but once again, no amnesia.

In order to fill this desperate need, and some free time, I am prepared to take up this gauntlet. We all have to make sacrifices sometime.

The scene opens with a product meeting about the new iPhone. Steve Jobs, Tony Fadell, and Tim Cook are all in attendance.

Jobs: Tony, how are we doing on the iPhone with a 52″ screen and telepathic interface?

Tony: Steve…

Jobs: Yes?

Tony: Its no use hiding behind your technical jargon.

Jobs: What?

Tony: Steve… don’t you know I love you?

Jobs: No! Its not possible!

Tony: Yes, it true!

Jobs: No, it can’t be. For you see… I’m not really Steve…

Tony: *gasp*

Jobs: I’m Steve’s evil twin quintuplet, Stewart!

Tony: You don’t mean… *gasp*

Jobs: Yes… *sob* Yes. I have amnesia!

Tony: *gasp*

Gil Amelio: *gasp*

Jobs: Who let you in?

Gil Amelio: Sorry. Here’s your pizza.

Jobs: Anyway… Tim, you’re looking a little large lately.

Tim: Yes… I’m… I’m pregnant.

Tony: *gasp*

Gil Amelio: *gasp*

Jobs: Are you done yet?

Gil Amelio: Um, yes. Sorry. I’m leaving.

Tim: Yes, Steve. I’m… I’m pregnant.

Tony: But… how??

Tim: Well, you see Tony, when a man loves a woman, they…

Tony: No, I mean, how does a man get pregnant? Don’t you need a uterus or something?

Tim: Oh. I’m not sure. But it happened to Arnold Schwarzenegger one time, so I’m sure its possible.

Jobs: Who’s the… father? …mother? …whatever… you know.

Tim: I don’t know. For you see… I have amnesia!

Tony: *gasp*

Jobs: Do you have to keep doing that?

Tony: Um… yes, actually. You put that in my contract. See? “Must gasp at any and all amnesia revelations.” Seemed a little weird at the time, but makes perfect sense now.

Jobs: Oh, right. I forgot… for you see.. I have amnesia!

Tony: *gasp*

Tim: Yes, yes, we covered that already. Shouldn’t we get back to the iPhone thingie?

Jobs: *sigh* Sure why not. What’s the problem again?

Tony: Um, we don’t know how to make one.

Jobs: Oh. Hmm.. that’s sort of a buzzkill. Does anyone else have any shocking revelations instead?

Jobs Evil Twin #4: Yes… I do.

Tony: *gasp* I thought you were dead!

Jobs Evil Twin #4: I was… in my heart. For you see… I have always loved you, Tim.

Tim: *sobs* I… I know… but our love is forbidden.

Jobs Evil Twin #4: Yes. That’s why I went into exile… to protect your feelings.

Jobs: Sounds boring.

Jobs Evil Twin #4: Um, yes. That’s why I made this.

Evil Twin #4 produces an iPhone.

Jobs: Sweet. I guess we’re done here.

Evil Twin #4: But wait… doesn’t anyone care that I have amnesia??

Tony: Not really.

Tune in next time, when someone else forgets they have an evil twin brother!

I probably need professional help.

A few people have sent me this already, but I never bore of it. That kitten is way too cute, and it also involves a PowerBook. Good entertainment just doesn’t get any better than that. Unless you spend money.

I was recently thinking about razors and shaving. Probably because I just switched razors.

I used to have a Gillette Sensor Excel. I rather liked it, mainly because it was free. All I had to do is register for the Selective Service. It was a great deal. I trade the opportunity to be drafted for a ten dollar razor. Well, its a great deal only because there hasn’t been a draft in my lifetime. If one comes, then its a total rip off.

Especially since I don’t even have it anymore. It was one of the many things stolen. Maybe I can use that as an excuse if there ever is a draft. I don’t have a razor, therefore I’m not eligible for the draft. Except that its illegal not to register when you turn eighteen. So the best I could probably do is talk myself into some jail time.

About a week ago, I went out and bought another razor. Someone recommended a Gillette Mach 3. In hindsight, I’m not sure why I took her advice since she has never used one, and has never even shaved her face. Anyway, the big “upgrade” is supposed to be the Mach 3 has three blades, as opposed to the measly two blades of the Sensor Excel. Not that I could tell a difference. Shockingly, the three blades didn’t shave any better than two. Its as if the “more blades is better” was pure marketing hype. My trust in humanity took a big hit that day. I suspect that two blades shave better than just one, but after two.. eh, doesn’t matter.

The only noticeable difference between the razors was the neck. On the Sensor Excel the handle was right behind the blade. The neck allowed the blade give and flex up and down. On the Mach 3 the handle is in line with the blade. The neck flexes so the blade can move front to back as well as up and down. The result is its very hard to nick yourself with the Mach 3. The downside is you can’t apply any real pressure to the blade. If you do, the neck bends and no pressure is applied to the actual blade. It didn’t seem to make any difference in the shaving ability, but it was a bit unnerving. I guess I’m used to having more pressure when I press down on the razor. The other thing is the Mach 3 had trouble around my jaw line. It doesn’t like changing directions quickly. I’m guessing its to prevent nicking, but it means I had to go over my jaw line a couple of times.

The design of the neck is pretty important, as I experienced when using a disposable razor. Yeah, I ended up having to use the shaving kit. The disposable razor had two blades, and was shaped a lot like the Sensor Excel. The only difference was the neck of it didn’t give up or down or any other way for that matter. As a result, the shave was really rough. I had to get the angle of the blade just right, to get it to shave correctly. The wrong angle meant that I didn’t get all that close and left hair, or got too close and got nicked or razor burn. I guess using the Sensor Excel made me lazy. I just had to get the approximate angle and the neck would flex to the correct one.

All of this is because I can’t use an electric razor. When I first started shaving I was using an electric razor. But it had a bad habit of chewing up my face. My hair is slightly curly, especially on my neck. For some reason, the razor couldn’t handle this. Probably because all the hair on my neck was pointed in a different direction. I’d have to go over my neck many times, just to get most of the hair. As a result, I got some pretty serious razor burn. I gave up on electrics early on in my shaving career.

All this thought about shaving brought me to the ultimate question: why do we even shave to begin with? Well, if you’ve ever seen a shaving commercial, you know the answer: women. Yep. All the shaving commercials, whether about razors, shaving cream, after-shave, pre-shave gel, or whatever, they all feature attractive women. Its never just a dude shaving. And who wouldn’t believe this answer? After all, its from the same people who said three blades are better than two. Plus there’s my personal experience. I took advice on shaving from a woman. She’s never shaved her face or even used the product she recommended. But I wholeheartedly took her advice. Why? The answer is obvious.

Don’t leave home without your towel tomorrow.

You don’t want people to think you’re not a hoopy frood who knows where his towel is, do you?

I thought not.