Pig prattle

Think for a moment about the word 'hogwash'. Typically, the word is used to brand something as nonsense or completely false. Carefully examine your mental picture of hogwash--in this picture, who is doing what? I envision hogs being washed in a substance by a second party, not the hogs washing themselves. When you go to the car wash (unless you're Michael Knight), you're probably the one doing the washing, not the car.

The fact that this substance called 'hogwash' has its own name leads me to think that it's somehow different from other washes, which usually involve soap and water. Just what are these hogs being washed in? I hope it's a tasty seasoning. Mmmm, bacon...

Porcelain patronization

I have a grievance with sensor-activated toilets. Sure, I could complain about how they waste water, but I'm not going to. My complaint is of a more personal nature. Here's a scenario to describe my feelings.

I'm sitting on a public toilet, defecating. I think I'm finished, so I wipe my nether regions before standing up. I stand up, realizing that I don't feel quite as fresh as I would like to feel. I begin to think:

"Hmm, still not right. Maybe I'd better wipe--"

FROOSH! The sensor has tripped and the toilet has flushed, delivering the stinky nuggets from my sight. Part of me is glad they're gone, but part of me wonders: Wasn't that really my decision to make--to flush the toilet? In one supposedly helpful gesture, the toilet invalidates me, tells me that it knows best. It's as if the toilet is saying, "Oh, no--we're done here. Pull up your pants and get out." But still, I must finish my wiping, all the while fixated on the thought that I've worn out my welcome.

Sensor-activated toilets would work well in an ideal world, a world of one-wipe anuses. While that is a noble (and, frankly, the highest) goal that humanity can strive for, we're not quite there yet, so maybe we should forsake germaphobia for a little while and flush for ourselves.

The lonliest of cancers

Do you think that, statistically, more single people die from skin cancers than attached people? Singles typically don't have another person to gawk at their backsides and nether regions on a regular basis, and it's clearly more difficult to detect visible cancers when nobody is actually looking at them. Just a morbid thought.

Hand and Foot

I think we need a word that conveys the opposite of 'handsome', but that is not as harsh as 'ugly'. So I propose that we start calling these unattractive men 'footsome'. Feet are kind of like the opposite of hands. Okay, they're not, but they're at opposite ends of your body, if you stretch your arms over your head. And feet themselves are generally considered to be unattractive appendages--strictly utilitarian.

Surely you've heard the expression live every day as though it were your last, or some variation. The meaning is something to the effect of spend your time on Earth in the best ways you can, which I think is a nice thought. But, like most warm and fuzzy expressions, it should not be taken literally.

Suppose you could know with certainty that a day would be your last. Do you really think that you should behave the way you would on that day, everyday? Some people would panic and rush around in an attempt to get their affairs in order. Others would repent all their percieved wrongdoings to their diety of choice. Still others would engage in hedonistic, risky behaviour without fear of negative consequences. Now imagine this on a global scale--a planet full of religious fanatics and drug-fueled sex addicts. Day after day. All because we took some silly expression at face value.

Hey, that's not half-bad.