Swine Nine Flu For You.

In all this chaos, the global 'pandemic' called the Swine Flu has created quite a stir. More of a stir than the Mrs. USA pageant contestant that denounced Gay Marriage on Live television, then found it necessary to start an anti-gay marriage group in Washington D.C. (that's another topic for another day, back to flu wu). A man sneezed on me on the train today, and it got me thinking: If the Swine Flu were to create a resume or have an agenda, what would it entail? Let's recap.

Mutate from original swine influenza (Check)
Infect Pig Handler in Mexico (Check)
Take Over Mexico (Check)
Travel to the United States on a Vacation across American Tour (Check)
Cause Mass Hysteria that Closes Schools and Causes People to Wear Masks like SARS is back in Style (Double Check)
Hitchhike to Europe on Unsuspecting Travelers (Check)
Cause a Global Pandemic (Check Mate)

Maybe this part of my fear or my grieving process to make a joke out of something "so serious" (as a co-worker told me), but I can not help but wonder why everyone is making such a big deal over this. You have a better chance of dying from the regular flu strain than even contracting Swine Flu. Hand sanitizer only works for so long and does not kill most viruses. Might as well lick the hand of a stranger than use that stuff. Not that we should all lick the hands of strangers, unless you are into that thing, then by all means, lick it like a lollipop (have I mentioned my hatred for that 'Lil' Wayne song?).

I almost wish the swine flu would pick me for a host. I will gladly take you into my house, let you destroy my white blood cells and cause my stomach to curdle and a fever to ensue my insides. I need to get warm somehow. I can imagine what it would be like contracting Swine Flu. This is how I imagine it would be:
The swine flu enters my nasal cavity and then my body. I walk around unknowingly infecting other people by touching and be touched. I then start to feel the symptoms some odd days later, and brush it off as allergies. The fever sets in, I start to tremble and wake Zachary up by stating "It picked me, can you believe it?" I then pass out only to wake up in the emergency room hooked up to an I.V. of fluids and Tamiflu. In the meantime, the laboratory tests and confirms the Swine Flu in my system, the doctors alert the proper authorities. I get sent home from the hospital with a prescription for rest and some fluids. A Chicago Tribune reporter calls my phone a day later to ask if he can interview me for the paper. I accept, and we talk on the phone for an hour or so. The next day, Zachary brings me a copy of the paper home, and I see my name and the article posted. I think to myself, "Oh, this was a genius plan."
A little insane, I know. Although, I would go down in the record books for being one of the many Americans, one of the few Chicagoans who contracted Swine Flu.

On a lighter note, Barbie got a tramp stamp. Yes, that is how I am ending this.

Disclaimer: I really do not wish to contract Swine Flu.

In the closet, so to say.

I have always wondered why we, as humans or rather Americans, use closets. The word closet itself baffles my mind. There are wardrobe closets and free standing closets. A pantry signifies a closet, where a water closet refers to a toilet? There is even a closet sold at Ikea that has a mirror and cabinets with a built in nightstand (I really want one of these). The purpose of a closet is to "store" all your closet needs such as toys (which is my problem hands down), shoes, clothes, blankets, personal belongings, filing cabinets, a noose, and anything else you want to throw in there with endless possibilities.
I recently watched an info-mercial about one of those closet space saver bags where you put all your clothes into a bag with hangers, and then suck all the air out with a vacuum. 'Saves space and time.' The only space that needs saved is the old republic from the Empire. Besides sounding a little futuristic and dangerous, I absolutely want one. I have piles and piles of clothes in my closet that need a good home inside a bag, where I can suck all the life and energy out of them, only to open the bag a few days later when I need that long sleeved plaid shirt because the weather in Chicago is wackier than Bobo the clown. I never thought a vacuum can be used to suck the air out of something, it makes me want to write about a bad super villain who uses the power of his $500 Dyson vacuum to suck the air out of someones lungs. A horrible way to die if you ask me. I am not sure if that is even plausible, but it would make for a great story or headline, "Man dies after sucking a vacuum." I won't even point out the irony.

"You've got a couple skeletons in the closet," or a "Closet Homosexual." Phrases meant to refer to a 'secret' you are keeping, somewhere in your closet. Maybe the closet of your mind or conscious. I keep clothes in my closet, I don't want to think about what someone else might be storing in there. This past summer when I went apartment hunting in Chicago, I came across a couple places our apartment lady was showing to us. Every time we would walk into a room with a closet, and she would immediately say, "This makes for great closet space." Great closet space, huh? What about the bedroom where I currently reside that has no closet. What would that space be considered in the corner where the closet should be? Open space, perhaps? I keep my dresser there, so dresser space it is. I also keep clothes inside my dresser, not secrets. Do you have to keep secrets in your closet? I am thinking about buying a Skeleton that you would use in anatomy lab or have in your medical office. Besides the fact of wanting to to own one, I would store him in my closet where I store other random objects and my secrets, That way if the subject should ever arise, I can always say, "Sure, I've got a few skeletons in my closet."

Life's unsolved puzzles.

I created this blog to help get out all these questions and theories I have growing at the base on my brain. Things such as, God and the R-Evolution (to be read as revolution), Veganism and my Cat, We're all a little Crazy, and I need to start reading Self-Help books.