Ted Kaczynski Ruined a Good Idea

To continue with the theme of the fat comic book store owner from The Simpsons that Silky started yesterday, “Craziest.  Title.  Ever.” 

Why did Ted Kaczynski have to be so freakin’ homicidal and such a fanatical asshole?  With his “surprise mailing” technique, he could have made a fortune and built himself a much bigger shack in the woods - I’m talking Folger’s can for plumbing fancy.  I mean think about it.  How great would it be to receive some normal looking package at work or at home on your birthday, and when you open it, like confetti, balloons or something else innocuous and happy fly out?  Gun powder and nails never says I love you.  I’d rather have that than some jerk coming to my home or office singing about whoever loved me, and how much they still loved me no matter how bald and fat I’m getting.  All that does is give an otherwise special day a bad lounge singer vibe.  Teddy K probably came up with the “deadly surprise mailing” idea because he was hit in the eye by one of those spring snake-in-a-can things when he was a child.  Who knows.  Haunting memories from childhood birthday parties can change a man/woman for the rest of their life.  Just look at John Wayne Gacy.  They should make a documentary about his homicidal-crazy-hopefully-died-a-painful-death ass called “Clowin’ Around”.

Did you ever see that video of Richard Speck in prison before he died?  For those of you not in the know, Speck is some lunatic who killed eight student nurses from a South Chicago hospital back in the 60′s.  Well anyway, I was watching a documentary about him the other night; apparently while he was in prison, Speck started taking female hormones to grow boobs so he would be more desirable to the prison heavies.  They were small, saggy old women boobs, but that still translates into a Dolly Parton rack in prison.  In one video, he and his cellmate – which sounds like a term for British blood cells that buddy up while flowing through your veins – were snorting coke and doing various other drugs while it was being filmed from inside whatever prison they resided.  I’m sure you could find it on whosetube or whatever.  Basically, they were talking about how good of a time they were having in the jail and that kinda fun stuff.  Oh yeah, did I mention Speck was also wearing panties?  If there has ever been more proof that people who intentionally kill people without any sort of mitigating circumstances should have done to them what they have done to others, I don’t know what it would be.  In his case, that whole theory of him being punished while spending the rest of his life in prison and getting raped turned into his own personal version of that weird 80′s soft porn movie Caligula- or at the very least, a more transformer, rainbowed-up version of Shawshank Redemption.  I seriously doubt Tim Robbins or Morgan Freeman would have wanted any part of those roles…in case you haven’t figured it out yet, it’s apparently Crazy Asshole Week on A&E Biographies.

To switch gears like a fat kid on a ten-speed, do you think there should be counseling for people addicted to Red Bull?  Should insurance cover it?  You think the co-pay would be like a caffeine-free Coke?  I swill the Amstel Light of Red Bull – sugar free – like AA attendees drink coffee.  My wife – who seemingly has some kind of “knowledge” about “medical” stuff – once told me that large doses of caffeine can help a headache.  The trick, however, is that large doses of caffeine can cause headaches if you get yourself use to it, and don’t continue to feed the addiction.  I know coffee has a lot of caffeine in it, but the problem is a lot of vomit usually proceeds me imbibing some.  I hate coffee almost as bad as I do mayo, sour cream and any food-related activity involving such condiments of the devil.  Potato salad looks like chunky, spud-laced phlegm to me.  Diet Red Bulls do help my noggin’ throbbin – boy there’s a title for a porno flick starring people with 7 and 5/8′s hat sizes or bigger – and I don’t get the rebound headaches; but unfortunately, I don’t get any “energy” from swilling them either.  It’s a catcher 22 in the rye, or something like that. 

Well, I’m off to see what kind of legal shenanigans I can get myself into.  So until next time, keep reachin for the stars and hopin’ that it’s not a low-hanging bug zapper…