Friday, June 19, 2015

I'm a #@&* Genius

Please note: I am not claiming to have an IQ of 160. I honestly don’t know what my IQ is. That is not what a #@&* genius is. A #@&* genius is someone who comes up with amazing, innovative, world-changing ideas. These ideas are then presented to family, friends, colleagues, or passers-by in the following format:

“Holy #@&*! I’m a #@&* genius! [Explanation of brilliant idea] Check THAT out! [Lots more profanity].”

This display is accompanied (and punctuated) by victory-like dances, vulgar gestures, aggressive pointing in the audience’s face, unwelcome displays of affection, and other simultaneously attention-attracting and off-putting behavior.

The #@&* genius process (and unveiling) is accelerated and amplified by caffeine, alcohol, and sometimes antihistamine. (Once, while on Benadryl, I had a lengthy journey of introspection and discovered my spirit animal is algae.)

Some #@&* geniuses are sell-outs. They get patents, make infomercials, audition for Shark Tank. True #@&* geniuses hate these douche-nozzles. #@&* genius ideas are meant to fizzle out, or at best be knocked up into some duct-tape-riddled prototype and then abandoned in one’s garage. Most often they are simply battered out of existence by the ridicule of one’s more sober friends and/or elevator-mates.

Having said all of that, I’m a #@&* genius and here are some of my #@&* genius ideas:

1. Pair people who have extra skin from pregnancy or sudden weight loss with people who need skin grafts. I have not researched this medically at all; it isn’t the #@&* genius way. It is slightly better than my original Extra Skin Idea, which was to sell it to a pork rind factory. That one seemed a little bio-hazard-y. Although, one could argue that the sorts of people who eat pork rinds deserve whatever ill fate awaits them from eating people rinds instead. I also don’t think that the facilities that produce pork rinds are called “factories”. Unfortunately.

2. We all know that mangoes are delicious but infuriating. Cutting them up is annoying, getting all of the luscious, luscious mango flesh off of the stupid, stupid mango stone is next to impossible. I have witnessed my husband cram a mango stone into his mouth and then commit a series of appalling and invasive acts upon it in an effort to harvest every shred of tastiness. Instead, peel your mango (that’s not that difficult) and then jam corn cob holders into either side! Now you can gnaw away at it with relative dignity and success. Right? Amazing. You’ll probably have to rearrange them as you eat. Deal with it.

3. So. There are tanning beds. There are also strange cylindrical tanning chambers that require a person stand upright whilst lifting his or her arms above his or her head and hanging onto some sort of handle (while muttering to his or herself, “Yes, yesssss! Tan aaaall the crevices. Get ‘em good. Yeahhh…”) Point being: how has no one thought to branch out in terms of tanning furniture?  Perhaps a nice relaxing tanning recliner. Does anyone know if tanning bulbs can be converted into fiber optic technology? Then they could be woven into a tanning hammock. You and your significant other’s romantic spa day could include a couples massage, pedicures, and side-by-side tanning on a tanning love seat, where you and your lover’s pools of butt sweat and tanning oils mingle…like your burgeoning love, or something.

See? I’m a #@&* genius. I wish you were here, dear readers. You are missing my victory dance.

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