Deep Thoughts

Let’s Talk Turkey

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Thu, 25 Nov 2010 18:41:00 +0000

Why it’s Thanksgiving! Turkey time. In our culture, the turkey seems to represent important values like thanksgiving, happiness, and at times…cuteness. Rightly so. Americans have fallen in love with turkeys—maybe even as much as Adam Smith & Milton Friedman (capitalism allusion that 95% of my audience missed…oh well, let me grab your attention again…ummm, Justin Bieber! Good. Welcome back).

So why all the love for turkeys? To find that out, I had to do some deep digging. So with my trusty memo pad and #2 pencil, I headed to Washington in search for answers. Thanks to some of my old ‘Nam buddies, I received a lead on where to look—The Library of Congress. After months and months of extensive searching and studying, not to mention plenty of filled memo pads, I found the answer buried in the dirtiest book of the library basement (right next to other credible sources like “Pocahontas: our Founding Mother” and “Russia: An Ally for the Ages”). You wanna know the real history that the schoolbooks never told you about? Hold on. This discovery might flip your whole view of patriotism. No, I won’t be offended if you close your browser. What comes next is only for the strong-hearted.

The Pilgrims marketed well. Gasp! I know. And you thought marketing wasn’t discovered till the 1980s (history lesson—marketing was actually introduced in the 8th Century by Pope Gregory II when he popularized the Chia Pet).

Those Puritans faced a serious problem when they came to the New World. Turkey overpopulation. Don’t believe me? Look at the history reports. Thanks to the faithful Wampanoag tribe statisticians who logged annual turkey counts, we can analyze the evidence ourselves. Look at the graph added below from one of their history journals. Wow…
Ok. So, the Pilgrims showed up around 1619. Well, notice the big jump between 1600-1620. The Pilgrims had to do something, or else they would be overrun. So, top Pilgrim marketers sat down for a long-hard brainstorming session. Ideas flew left and right: 1) provoke a war between the Indians and turkeys. 2) Ally with the turkeys and hope for lifelong peace. 3) Abandon the New World and try out Costa Rica. 4) Create a holiday and…EAT THE TURKEYS. And thus Thanksgiving was born. A little cannibalistic but what else would work?

And so the Pilgrim marketers formulated the new turkey image. Their first slogan was a hit with the other settlers: “Cute, cuddly, and great with gravy.”

With the help of Sitting Bull and Tiny Turtle, a new marketing strategy was aimed toward the Indians. Simply stated, “Eat Turkey.” And many Indians gladly did.

Now, look at the results! By 1640, the turkey population had diminished by almost 30%. Looks like those Puritans were capitalists in the making. Good for you boys. Good for you.

And so thus set the tradition of Thanksgiving: dress up like a pilgrim and eat tons of turkey. As expected, when November rolls around, we always see pretty pictures of gobbling turkeys pleading to be bought and devoured. So we do. And as we say thanks around the table, one of the kids is bound to say, “I’m thankful for the turkey.” As he should…because he’s American.

So, for this Thanksgiving. I say thank you to those ingenious Puritan marketers who saved us from an ever-threatening turkey uprising. Without their strategy for creating Thanksgiving, we might very well be speaking gobble-gobble today.

Closing Suggestion: if you have any free time, go digging around in the basement of the Library of Congress. You’ll find some interesting stuff.

Wake up to the Music!

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Tue, 26 Oct 2010 18:34:00 +0000

You can also read this article on the New America website.

Let’s be honest. Americans struggle with mornings. When I even mention the word “morning,” people go into cardiac arrest, which I can understand, because we’re still digesting that monster bacon cheeseburger from last night’s partying. The glorious snooze button becomes a savior to us, providing that extra time for delightful digestion (gurgle, gurgle).

If a foreign country wanted to conquer America, here’s a suggestion: attack at dawn carrying McDonald’s. Seriously, I don’t know what we’d do—oh wait…yeah I do, we’d probably go into cardiac arrest. Ironic.

Now, I’m not going to write about obesity, laziness, politics, or the digestion process, although all of these topics are plaguing society today. Believe me, the blogs are just steaming about the digestive tract debate.

There is a solution for all you night owls. You can enjoy your mornings. It’s simple. Wake up to the music.

Let’s walkthrough a typical American morning…

-Wakeup

-Hit Snooze

-Wakeup

-Hit Snooze…repeat 3 more times

-Finally wakeup (angry that you’re alarm clock didn’t wake you up earlier)

-Shower & get ready

-Shuffle off to work/school

-Work (more shuffling)

-Eat lunch

Exciting huh?

Why are we wasting our mornings? They make up a third of our lives (heavy research has been done to discover this). Revamp your mornings. Add music.

SCIENCE LESSON!

Pick a song you love and associate it with mornings. Mental connections help the body to respond quicker (like using word pictures when studying). So when you hear that favorite song, your body releases endorphins, which make you feel good. Crazy, I know. Feeling good in the mornings? Who would have thought? Wake up to the music.

END SCIENCE LESSON! And all-caps as well.

Can I offer a song suggestion? Try “Today is the Day” by Lincoln Brewster. If this song doesn’t get you excited about the day ahead, I don’t know what will. Lincoln shares a powerful message along with an uplifting melody (needed in the mornings). He looks forward to the new day and rejoices in how God has made it.

Simple message, powerful song.

The song asks: how can we worry? How can we fear? Today is the day He has made! Will you rejoice and be glad in it?

In no way can I adequately describe the song. Find it. Listen to it.

Change your perspective on mornings. Look at the day as a gift from God. Look at the morning as a gift from God. I will praise you O Lord for whatever this day brings!

So wake up to the music. Let it focus your mind to what God has graciously given you…another day to praise Him.

Deals Deals Deals!

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Mon, 23 Aug 2010 19:03:00 +0000

Wrote this for The New America blog. I think you'll like it...

Like any normal American, I love the feeling of finding a good deal. You know what I mean. If a sweater is normally priced at $34.95, we utter a little giggle, shake our heads at the outrageous price, and keep shopping. But in glorious contrast, once we see that magical sale sign; the situation changes completely. Suddenly, this piece of overpriced stitching instantaneously transforms into a crown jewel.

The thoughts flood in. “Where have you been my whole life? Wow, this used to be $94.95, and it’s marked off to only $34.95! That’s like 60% off! Yep, this is why I shop. This is why I’m American. I find all the deals.”

Now, in no way am I condemning this common shopping occurrence. People feed off the pleasure of making a deal. I’m no different! Please continue your spending. It helps our GDP (confused and lost? Type it in on Google – learn a little).

I’m here to offer you more deals. Forget the hassle of leaving home; these deals flow to your hands through the power of the Internet. I’ll share the top 5 Internet deal sites I know. If you have some of your own, please comment below. We all need better ways to spend our money. Right? Plus, in the long run, you’re helping the economy. And you don’t want to be a socialist, do you? Be American. Buy things.

SlickDeals.net
Provides hourly deals to all sorts of websites and stores whether it be for pet supplies, electronics, or foot cream. You can follow them on Twitter to gain instant deal access wherever you go. User name is very complicated so be careful. It’s @slickdeals.

DansDeals.com
A blog where the mysterious “Dan” uploads all the deals he finds. Great site to find airplane deals. The website is like a mini-SlickDeals.net. Provides about a deal a day. Good site. Check it out. Also, they can be found on Twitter: @dansdeals.

Woot.com
I love this site. You can hate me; I don’t care. The site sells a daily deal each day. They also have other sister sites: wine.woot.com, shirt.woot.com, and kids.woot.com…each offering their own deals. Sometimes, the site issues a WootOff. When a deal sells out, the day is not over! A new deal pops up ready for you to look at. Twitter: @woot.

DailySteals.com
Not as nice as the other websites, but it still offers good deals. Free stuff occasionally shows up.

DealDump.com
In case I missed a site that you adore, this site includes all the deal sites. Don’t worry; it’s not a dump. It’s actually quite nice and helpful. You would think they would name the site something like DealDeli or DealDirectory, but they didn’t. They chose dump. D-u-m-p. Say it slowly. DUUUMMP. What a word…

Happy Shopping! And keep raising our GDP!

Paula Dean's Biography - Secrets Revealed

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Tue, 03 Aug 2010 16:58:00 +0000

For the past week, I've sat down with the famous Food Network Channel star Paula Dean and listened to her disclose the innermost secrets of her life (a little butter can go a long way). Throughout the interview, I gained incredible insights about how Paula has become the woman of today. We cried, we laughed, we ate. Well, she ate. She ate everything. I didn't know our bodies could digest table chairs...

Anyway, I organized all the information into a moderate 562 page biography. I'm still working on the title, and I've narrowed it down to two choices...

Butter me up Scotty

Butter, the Other White Meat

I know. It's a toss-up. Both titles speak so much of Paula's life...

Now, I'm going to give you a sneak peek into this breakthrough biography. You get it first, right here on Deep Thoughts. This is fresh, never read before stuff. So don your reading glasses and enjoy. It's a nail-biter.

This section is taken from "Chapter 2: Addictions and Applesauce."

"In the early years of Paula's life, trials faced her at every turn. She grew up in a home of 15 brothers and sisters. The parents forgot they even had her. Plus it didn't help when she had a brother named Paul and a sister named Paulina. Paula was simply forgotten.

This lack of parental relationship fueled a desire for addiction. And the only drug Paula could turn to...was butter. Now, over the years, Paula hid the addiction well. Claiming that food just tasted better with more butter, but friends and family were suspicious. Wasn't 5 cups of butter for a morning omelet a little excessive? And why was there butter on top of the cupcakes instead of icing? What? Butter tea?

Butter was the answer! Or so thought Paula. On June 15, 1979, Paula's life was flipped upside down. She was in for a rude awakening."

The book hits Amazon.com later this year. Be on the look out! Just a little snippet of what you'll expect from the biography. Hope you enjoyed it. There's so much to Paula Dean than you ever thought possible!

Let's Dissect a Brat

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 01:42:00 +0000

I saw someone eating a Bratwurst the other day. It was intriguing. How can a law-abiding citizen degrade himself that low to partake of such a monstrosity? I can still see those grotesque images. The guy bit down hard. The sausage skin broke with sort of suction sound. Potent juices streamed down his face. He continued to slowly chomp his life away.

Ahh, the Bratwurst. A German delicacy. But yet, no one knows the contents beneath the slippery skin. The recipe is highly confidential. It’s as confidential as the Krabby Patty recipe. Yeah…that secretive. But, alas, I am here, your Bratwurst Braveheart, to proclaim the highly sought after frankfurter recipe.

You better thank me. I had to sneak this coveted research funding into Obama’s Stimulus Bill. Luckily, I got approved for a 2.7 billion dollar grant for my Bratwurst study. There’s no way you can argue that it's a “pork” bill. Bahahahaaaa…that made me laugh.

Anywho, let’s get to the research findings.

The 16 ingredients identified in a common Bratwurst:

1. Meat (still not sure what kind though)

2. Cotton

3. Starbucks Via

4. Skittles

5. Creamed Corn

6. A Baby Shark

7. Rubber

8. Iphone 4

9. Captain Crunch

10. Vuvuleas (they’re everywhere!)

11. Part of Tyson’s ear (in every sausage, crazy, I know!)

12. Tiger Gatorade (no one else would buy it, except the Brat companies)

13. A Whole Quarter

14. Meerkat

15. The Common Cold Virus

16. Licorice Jelly Beans (again, no one eats them)

So now, the next time you bite into a delectable Bratwurst, appreciate the time and effort that took in collecting all those ingredients and stuffing them into such a small tube of space. Cheerio Chaps!

Oops, I didn’t mean that “Cheerio Chaps” to sound like a British goodbye. Those are actually two more ingredients I forgot to tell you about! So, that brings our total to 18 ingredients. 18 wonderful ingredients for you to enjoy all in one bite. What other food can claim that? Happy eating!

New Post at "This is The New America"

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 00:08:00 +0000

Check on the blog "The New America."

I just wrote an article for it called..."Admit it, You Love the Twilight Movies..." While you're there, read some other stuff, get hooked, and follow them on Twitter. It's cool to see how far the blog has come. They keep adding stuff everyday!

Here's the site...http://www.thisisthenewamerica.com/

Say Goodbye to Sunburn

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Sat, 10 Jul 2010 13:29:00 +0000

In light of the rising temperatures this summer, Deep Thoughts would like to offer a few home remedies to cure your painful sunburn. Our medical facilities located in Santa Ana, California have tested many rubs, ointments, utensils, and latex-oriented products to discover the best relief to a pesky burn. We have separated each "relief" into two columns: "Worth a Try" and "I Sure Wouldn't."

So first, let's look at the "I Sure Wouldn't" Column.

---I Sure Wouldn't---

1. Sea Urchin Acupuncture: although recently considered a "fad," I sure wouldn't...

2. Cheese: very deceptive

3. Generally any form of acid

4. Velcro

5. Banana Boat's Aloe with a Hint of Hot Sauce (Walmart-$8.69): upon testing, participant went into cardiac arrest. So...I sure wouldn't.

---Worth a Try---

1. Silk

2. The New Iphone 4: it can do anything!

3. Butter

4. Peanut Butter

5. Raw Bacon...if it cooks, that's a plus!

6. Godiva Milk Chocolate

7. Ice Cream, Hot Fudge, and Banana, hold the peanuts

You may have noticed a majority of the "Worth a Try" column being food items. So, if the remedy doesn't seem to be relieving any sunburn pain, look on the bright side. You are currently covered in a delicious decadence.

Good luck faithful readers! Hope your sunburn can be cured quickly and harmlessly. I gotta go. My bacon is looking good and crispy.

Fashion Update!

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Sat, 19 Jun 2010 20:04:00 +0000

Deep Thoughts is releasing a fashion alert! Attention Attention! FASHION ALERT! Thanks to my weekly subscription to Runway Magazine, I hear of all the new fashion alerts waaay before they hit the Gucci & Christian Dior storefronts. Remember the sequin barbed wire look? Remember pleated jeans? I prepped you in early March, and--Boom--the fad hit later that month. You can trust Deep Thoughts for all your fashion news and updates.

So all you fashion fanatics out there who have been checking the blog daily to see what the new fad might be...I am here to end the wait. Your fashion leader speaks. The moment you've been waiting for...the new fashion for the month of July. Camouflage! Shocking, isn't? For July, you'll be stylin if you flaunt a little green at the beach. Be proud of wearing long sleeves. Because you are fashionable. You are fresh. Funky fresh.

Some of Hollywood's hots were seen sporting the new camo pattern. Of course, they were completely hidden due to the fabulous fabric, so I can't identify who they were...just the curse of being in style.

I've got my camo cardigan on right now. Cost me 225.95. Not bad. Where's your camo?

Chic out.

I'm now a Recycle Fanatic

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Sat, 12 Jun 2010 00:11:00 +0000

In honor of NBC, I'm going green. I have completely lost my mind, and I value the earth above all else. So step aside all you greed-loving-tree-killing-capitalists, because here I come, ReCycLe is here. Notice I put some capital letters in my superhero name. This effect should cause intense emotion for mindless Americans to follow me on my journey to take down Democracy and save little animals and spruces.

Here are my plans for making the world greener:

1. All major motor companies should accept my design concept for the new methane-gas-powered car. Think about it. The Toyota Toot. There's one good thing Americans can make: methane. There are advantages to being overweight. Good work America.
2. Spray paint brown lawns. That'll make the world a little greener.
3. Since my name is ReCycLe, I like to recycle. Anyone who refuses to recycle will face capital punishment. Simple as that. Hey, you may think that's harsh, but sometimes green needs to see some red. Plus, I believe in reincarnation (or as I put it...recycling). You don't recycle? How about life as a pig? How are those hooves treating ya?!?! I got thumbs. ReCycLe strikes again!
4. Require all children to be hypnotized into thinking that "being green" is normal. We've got to reach the next generation. Offer lollipops if they refuse.
5. If none of the above tactics work, we must pull out plan G. Need I say what G stands for? Out of our green headquarters in the NBC Studio, we start emitting our propaganda. And just like a mirrored WWII Germany, we turn NBC into Hitler's lair. Take that Capitalists! Green shall rule the world. And we shall have blonde hair, blue eyes, and green lawns.

So pick up your pitchforks and grab the torches. I'm feeling a revolt coming on! A revolt for a greener tomorrow. ReCycle out!

My Solution to BP's Problem

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Wed, 02 Jun 2010 23:04:00 +0000

Now hear me out. I wanna talk about BP's oil problem. Don't you dare press that X on your internet browser. I've tried to help! I have relentlessly called to BP's solution hotline. I have written letters; I have sent my own personal homing pigeons. But to no avail. In return, I have been shunned, mocked, and most recently my house egged. Thanks all to BP. Maybe you should start focusing on that spill rather than ruining my life! OH SLAM! (Audience claps softly, a chuckle emerges)

So, let me gather my faithful revolutionaries as we take down BP. I'm talking about you. WE NEED YOU! With your help, we can drive BP's stock price even lower! YAY! Are you with me? Let's make BP the new Enron. Or should I say the new Lyntech. Never heard of them? My point exactly. Utter extinction.

So here's my plan. First, we sabotage their solution hotline. Create a Facebook fan group "BP Hates Nature" and have members call in with hate messages. Maybe send in really bad ideas like Top Kill or something. Or, I know! Throw golf balls down the tube to plug it! You know, dumb ideas like that.

I kid you not...http://www.slate.com/id/2254211

Next, let's egg BP's house. Sweet revenge, I know. I have some leftover eggs from BP's last attack. So, let's blast that mansion. Aim for windows. Aim for executives' kids.

Yes, BP has a house. Just trust me on this one.

Last, we gotta seal the deal. Leave BP with nothing. After BP continues to fail at solving the oil spill, we gather a large pool of money. At least a billion. Maybe more. With that Facebook group, it'll be easy! We wait a year. Then, BP's stock price will be within penny range! Then like fast-moving cats that resemble graceful cheetahs, we buy. And buy. And buy. 51% of shares to be exact. We will then control all of BP operations. It's foolproof, almost predestined (whoops, there goes my Arminian audience).

Of course by now, the oil spill still won't be solved. So, we enact the plan BP had been looking for so long. Our secret plan! The one just delivered by armored vehicles. Here it is!! Simply...flip...the..."off switch."

My goodness! I mean. It's right there next to the "call for executive jet switch!" I can see how you'd get distracted. BP meet GM. DOUBLE SLAM! (Audience emits an utter chatter, an old man leaves for the bathroom)

Now...the last step and final blow: change the name to AP. American Petroleum. Booyah! Ethnocentrism to the max!

Good work everybody! So, who's gonna start that Facebook group. Can I be an officer?

How You Define Yourself...Font-wise

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Sun, 23 May 2010 22:16:00 +0000

Did you know that the typeface you choose defines your personality? I have just finished an 8 month quantitative study of typefaces and the parallelism with certain personalities. I am sooooo glad it didn't take 9 months. I promised to never take on a 9 month research project. Too risky.

Anywho, find your favorite most-used font and with the power of **magic** you can learn your personality type (the ** are used to indicate magic dust...think sparklers). Ok, it's not technically magic, the personality types are based on my well-documented research. Because...there's no such thing as magic, silly. Well, there might be. But that's a 9 month research project, and I'm not getting anywhere close to that. Gotta stick to my values.

So, look for your favorite font below and see how it perfectly matches your personality. As a side note, there are no exceptions. If you use a certain font, the corresponding personality defines you exactly.

Times New Roman (TMR): Ahh yes, this standard font makes up 65% of Americans. You have no idea about technology or design. You like to wear bland colors...which actually do bring attention to yourself but you don't think they do. You've been called "the guy at the party nobody knew and how'd he get invited." Steve Jobs is your mortal enemy. If you has to choose between a vacation or holiday, you would get mad and argue that they are the same thing. You are Caucasian. You get caught up in fads...you still own a pet rock, Furby, and/or Pokemon cards.

Typewriter: You have a love for the classics. Although you out of sync with the current culture, you view yourself as an unmoving traditionalist. Shockingly, you actually use a typewriter. As soon as you heard the typewriter font came on the computer, you converted immediately. You don't email. You print off paper and send it through the mail. Remember, you are a traditionalist. Stand strong.

Comic Sans: I know you aren't supposed to be bias in reporting data, but I must interject here. I hate the use of Comic Sans. If you choose to use this font, you parallel a 6-year-old child randomly scrolling through fonts. There is absolutely no reason why anyone should choose this typeface. Whew. Sorry about that. Let's get back to the research...Comic Sans reveals deep depression. You seek (or should seek) mental help daily. Comic Sans users live life lonely.

Papyrus: You have no creativity whatsoever. You love mooching off of other people. You love Egyptians and cats. Moses was your favorite Bible Character. You have pictures of local businesses and fundraisers in your room that used the Papyrus font AGAIN. Comic Sans matches well for you.

Baskerville: You are as fine as fine wine. Aged but sophisticated. The Rat Pack are your homeboys. You don't mind going out in public "dressed up." You play cricket, cribbage, and checkers. You occasionally pull out the cane to mix things up a little bit.

Arial: You are a "Times New Roman" in disguise. Although you want to look hip with the sans serif, you can't. You are still a common middle-class American. 25% of population falls here. Think parents talking hip with their kids (wow, I just used the word hip).

Wingdings: You are currently on drugs. Please get help.

These findings are only a small clipping of the research that I've done. If you would like to receive the other 127 font-personality parallelisms. Please shoot me an email. I'd be glad to help you discover more of who you are.

A Wise Investment

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Sun, 16 May 2010 18:33:00 +0000

Fear no more. The blog lives again. The organs begin to churn, and the beast yawns as it wakes from it's semester-long hibernation. Many of you pulled out your voodoo dolls to torture me while you awaited another informative blog update. You waited. And waited. Eyes glued to the computer screen. But nothing. Just silence. So thus in frustration, you jammed a pin into the doll's abdomen. Actually, I was about to update the blog, but then, mysteriously, my body was impaled by a giant pole...

So, all of you who have gone and given up all hope on me. Come back. Read again. Be enlightened. Let's begin.

I've got an idea! Let's start a restaurant together. You want to? First of all, I'm gonna need some capital (or money for all you 2.00 GPAs and under). Sure, I could spend my own money and make mega bucks. Buuuuut, I'm not feeling like I want to risk losing it. So, how about you give me your money. I swear I'll do better than Burger King. Who couldn't? (Insert Cheap Audience Laughter)

First, we're gonna have to decide on what kind of food we'll serve. Now, all the kids are really into these contemporary eateries. You know what I'm talking about. Places called "Yellow" and "Studio 11" and even "The Electric Pinstripe." You walk in, and the decor looks like Anti-Grandma's House? Yeah...Again, we need to appeal to what the demand is asking for. So Hitleresque/Marxist is what we're shooting for. Not literally.

We'll serve calamari, caviar, and gnocchi because these are exquisite hard-to-say menu items. And people like to eat goo in order to be considered sophisticated. Steak is sooo old news. Consistency? Psshh, give me liquid meat, that sells. I'm all about using your money best. So order the roe already!

Please send all money to this account, err, I mean address:

Muhammad Algezeera

PO Box #41219

Skikda, Algeria A8103

I look forward to working with all of you! Happy investing. Especially with this restaurant!

UNTAMED & RESTLESS: Chapter 6

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 19:50:00 +0000

The moment you all have been waiting for. I give to you Chapter 6 of Untamed & Restless! I know it's been a long time since the last chapter was released. The wait was well worth it! So, if you're lost and have no idea what Untamed & Restless is. Catch up on the previous chapters...

Many people ask what genre Untamed & Restless is. Simply, it's a comedic, action-packed, dramatic novel that will keep you on the edge of your seats. Still hesitant to read? Just try chapter 1, if you're not happy with the reading, I don't know what I'll do.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Untamed & Restless
Chapter 6

Grandfather began to share his story. He was a bit perturbed. Maybe because of his ulna jotting out of his arm or maybe because their was no place-set ready for him. Who knows. Whatever the case, he stared angrily at his son, Mr. McConnell.

He opened his mouth, "Boys, let me tell you the truth about what happened many many years ago." He approached his son and laid his hand on his son's shoulder. Blood spilled all over the neatly pressed white shirt. Mr. McConnell just held his breath.

Grandfather continued, "You see my boys, I was framed. Caught with my hand in the cookie jar. In the wrong place at the wrong time. Innocent as all get out. I don't know how else to put it; my whole life was ruined because of one mishap. It all started over 35 years ago...

*Insert blurring transition to indicate going back in time*

Granfather got a little dizzy from the blurring. He swayed so he took a Vicodin. He popped in another just for good luck. Gotta be sure! Well, the boys had already fallen asleep. Grandfather grunted, "like I was saying, it all happened a long time ago."

*Insert quicker blurring transition so audience doesn't get motion sickness.

"I was about 34 years old, about the age of you Blake, but way more successful and handsome. I was a man." Blake grimaced. Remember, he was still a boy. Every jab at his masculinity cut skin deep.

"I was a clerk at the local five and dime store selling Dreidel's to whomever would buy. It was hard business. But I'd made ends meet. Your grandmother..."

And on and on the story went for about 3 hours. Blake and Benjie had fallen asleep by now, and Mr. McConnell was fighting sleep with every weapon in his arsenal. The mace, the archer's bow, and even the Bec de Corbin were struggling to fight off the eyelids. It was quite a battle! While this tragic war was taking place, one of Mr. McConnell's eyes caught sight of a family photo. Good times he thought. But interestingly within the photo was Grandfather. Something was different. The grandfather in the picture looked entirely different than the jabbering one standing in front of them.

Mr. McConnell held up his hand for the man to stop. "And after making it all the way from the parade and seeing President Truman without his toupee, I...," the man stopped mid-sentence. "Yes?" he asked.

Mr. McConnell calmly questioned, "How do you spell your last name?"

"Well, how everyone in our family does silly, M-c-p-C-o-n-n-e-l-l. The p is silent! Everyone knows that!" Grandfather McpConnell informed.

Mr. McConnell continued, "Ahh, I see. Well, there's been a terrible mistake. You see your with the wrong Jewish family. Our last name is spell M-c-C-o-n-n-e-l-l. Also, I think this is a good time for me to apologize for breaking your ulna in half."

The man chuckled, "Ho ho ho, don't apologize! I'm the one at fault! Ho ha haa, I thought that you were...oh my. This is going to be quite a story. Huh? I don't even know you people. Oh, well I better get going huh? Don't want to intrude!"

Father McConnell shook his head and asked, "Could I get like a towel or something for your arm? I mean your clothes are soaked with blood."

The man responded, "Oh no, no need to. I just need to...umm...need to find my family. Where am I. Hmm. Well, I better get on that. I'll just see myself out?"

"Please do."

The door opened and slammed. And with that Blake and Benjie woke up. Benjie exclaimed, "What was that?"

"Nothing son, eat your dinner," said Father. Mr. McConnell sat in the cushioned dining room chair. His eyes landed on his TV dinner. He sighed heavily. A cold dead lamb stared straight back at him.

5 Things Bugging Me Right Now

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 15:35:00 +0000

I’m writing this post because maybe you share the same annoyances with me. We all need to vent. Sure, it’s a short writing. But hey, I need to get these things off my chest. I suggest you do the same. Get that issue out the open. You don’t like cucumbers? Tell us why.

Here’s my list:

1. Giant Radio Antennas on Sedans

(please explain the need for a Sears-Tower-like Antenna projecting from your roof?)

2. John Madden

(I’m not inherently bothered by him, but by how the media just threw him into the gutter. Where has his face been these past 9 months? He’s a founding father for crying out loud!)

3. Perms

(Give me one benefit, just one…)

4. Duct Tape Windows on Clunkers

(Also, if you could, please smoke excessively with the windows rolled up. It just adds value to the car. Thanks so much.)

5. Pretzels & Onions

(Actually 3 countries have already declared war on these formidable foes, we're gonna need more help.)

Whew, I feel a whole lot better! I think I’m gonna go run for president. See what happens when you get everything off your chest? It’s amazing!

Would you put your shirt back on? Sheesh…

My Life as a Bum

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 23:01:00 +0000

Before we get into the blog post. Don't forget you can sign up for emailed blog posts. All you have to do is sign up on the right side of the screen. Enter your email address and wallah! You're set to go! Now, on to the good stuff.

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For a sociology experiment, I trekked over to Hollywood. That wasn’t the experiment silly, although it would have been enough. (Insert Cheap Audience Laughter)

I planted myself on the streets of Hollywood as one of the locals. No, not as Beyonce. Even though I have received that compliment many a time. I disguised myself as a dirty and poorly dressed homeless bum. From this perspective, I could study the true habitat of the Hollywood actor. How would they react as a normal human being and not a sitcom character? Although, I must admit, it would have been fun to see Yogi Bear’s reaction to see a sociology scientist dressed up as a bum. Oh my! (Insert More Audience Laughter)

So, there I sat, right on Hollywood row, where all the golden stars sit engraved in the pavement. I sat right next to Tom Cruise’s star. No reason. I was just dropped off closet to his. Funny thing though. You’ll never guess whose star was right next to his. No, not Oprah. No, not Celine Dion. Get ready. It was Binny Henn! Shocking, I know. Probably for his key role in Flicka: Return of the Black Stallion. Or he just paid off the local cement engravers. Either or. I’ll let you decide.

Sitting there, I soaked myself with store-bought sweat (thanks Sam’s Club). I think the scent was “Roofer Reek.” Half-price. Hopefully, the actor would trust the smell and identify me as a local bum. I could only hope. The sociology world depended on it!

Slowly, off in the distance, crept an actor. A fog had settled in the street, and I could barely make out the face. Is..is that Bob Saggett? You remember him, right? Father of the Olsen Twins in Full House and host of America’s Funniest Home Videos? Why was he hanging out here? He wasn’t even close to deserving a Hollywood star! His mullet was more famous!

He skipped onto my side of the sidewalk. I put on my best bum impression. He stopped and said, “Hey old fella, how about some money?” His voice rang rich with Full House quality. And with that, he dropped a couple of nickels into my cup and off he strode.

I sat Indian-style just dumb-founded. All Hollywood actors were cheerful givers willing to give everything they had. Just take Bob Saggett, a fellow bum, giving all his money right back to another bum. What an amazing world we live in…

Leech Revelation!

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 00:02:00 +0000

I just received in the mail this past week my favorite magazine: Analytics for the Aspiring Analyst. So good! The December issue presents many interesting articles that I’d just love to share. But alas, I must only choose one for time sake. So many good articles, so little time…hmm, which one.

“Meerkat Medicinal Secrets”

“Living in the Middle Ages during the 21^st Century”

“Circuses, Circuits, and Catheters”

“Dissecting the Cryoflorm from Dementia”

“Living with Leeches”

I think “Living with Leeches” would bring most benefit to you. Face it; leeches are a very real and constant pressure in society today. The article takes the reader into the life of a slimy leech. What is the daily schedule of these phenomenal creatures? Luckily, I have obtained permission from Dr. Dobson & Analytics for the Aspiring Analyst to paste the data from the article right here on the blog.

--A LEECH’S NORMAL DAY--

by Dr. Dobson

They suck blood…a lot.

Well, there you have it, the newest discovery that shocked the science world. I present the information to you now. My life has changed from this material. I trust you will apply the many principles presented here to your own life. There’s more to leeches than just sucking blood. It’s sad we overlook the many awesome characteristics of leeches. Shame on you America.

Socialization Flipped

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 18:01:00 +0000

Ok. This post may blow your mind but stay with me. I need to lay some foundation before I go on. What exactly is socialization? According to the world renowned Dictionary I have written,

Socialization is the process whereby a person learns the norms, cultures, or ways of life of his social position.

To put it simply (because my dictionary is for intellectuals), it's the process that you learn to fit into this world. As a child, boys are taught to be boys, and girls are taught how to be girls. Girls like pink. Boys like blue. Girls like butterflies and ponies; boys like tanks and food. That's socialization. We are taught how we are supposed to act.

Ok. Step aside from the sociology lesson. Let's get to the meat of the blog post. Socialization flipped.

In addition to my schooling, I have also been running a research facility, and I'm ready to present my findings. Along with my colleague Dr. Kemper, we have quite an interesting experiment we would like to share with you.

We took 250 infants, 125 boys and 125 girls, and we socialized them opposite of their gender. Boys would be socialized as girls. And girls would be brought up as boys. We started this experiment back in 1996. I was a ripe age of 7. I understood much (10 seconds of silence).

Anyway, back to the findings.

The boys were taught to love pink, talk like girls, cry whenever possible, and cook. On the other side, girls were taught to hunt, make fires, and watch football. Typical guy actions.

To get consistent results, both boys and girls had robot parents. This way the kids wouldn't be confused about gender roles. And we had some robots who wanted to adopt. So we hit 2 birds with one stone. Pretty good I think.

Now, many people, literally 90% of Americans, questioned if this experiment was ethically correct. As of right now, the kids are 12 year old freaks, to be completely honest. What are we supposed to do with them? Our experiment is over, and we're ready to send them back to their families. The boys love to sew and take baths, and the girls smell really really bad.

What kind of psychologist am I? What have I done? Well, next time...I'll never do this experiment. Yeah, next time. Now...where did I point those Doritos? Biggest Loser is about to come on...

UNTAMED & RESTLESS: Chapter 5

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 01:52:00 +0000

You've waited long enough! Here's the chapter. Don't forget, there are previous chapters. Don't just rush into this one. Get caught up if you need to. The chapters aren't that long...ENJOY!

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Untamed & Restless
Chapter 5

Blake, Benjie, and Mr. McConnell had been sitting around the table for 10 minutes waiting for mother McConnell to bring their dinner. No one talked. It’s a Jewish thing; you wouldn’t understand. You just stare at the other family member until a sound occurs, intentional or unintentional. Unbeknownst to the family, Mrs. McConnell had been sucked into another black hole just minutes before dinner. She currently was flying toward the Rings of Verbutem at 115 light-eons, pretty quick for a white girl.

The silence was broken by a knock at the front door. Benjie peered out the window and gasped. Could it be? How on earth did he find them?

On the front doorstep stood none other than grandfather McConnell. They hadn’t seen him for 20 years! Well, maybe 19 ¾ years, thanks to leap years. You see, 20 years ago something happened, something so horrible, grotesque, and vile that the family had to erase his memory entirely.

To put the situation simply, grandfather McConnell had become a hot-dog salesman who sold Baal idols. Wretched abomination. He also used his money unwisely. The latter statement threw the Jewish community into cahoots. Grandfather McConnell received immediate Jewish expulsion. This act brought a huge disgrace to the McConnell name.

So, there Benjie stood staring right at his grandfather. Grandfather half-stared at Benjie and half-stared at the brick wall; you see he had a laze eye. God’s punishment, I would assume.

“May I come in?” asked grandfather. The words rang sharply in the air. They floated upstairs and down. They took a quick stop in the bathroom, did their business, and then continued on. The words finally arrived in the dining room where Blake and his father sat.

Mr. McConnell recognized that voice. He rose from his chair and walked to the front door. Benjie was still staring. Technically, Benjie had no idea who this man was. He wasn’t even born at the time of grandfather’s debacle. But still he stared. Father came up behind him lightly putting his hand on his son’s shoulder.

“What brings you by dad?” asked Mr. McConnell coldly.

Grandfather opened his chapped lips to utter something but suddenly collapsed over the door threshold. The men stood in wonder. It was getting kind of late, and dinner was to be served soon. So, they slowly and awkwardly pushed grandpa’s body back outside leaving the body in a heap on the porch. They dusted off their hands and went back to the dining room. Where was mom? I mean, were they even going to get dinner? Sheesh.

They waited another 30 minutes in silence. No talking. Ahh, Jewish traditions.

Father McConnell couldn’t wait anymore. He ran to the freezer and grabbed his favorite TV dinner, Mutton with Barley loaves. And for dessert was a matzo ball brownie. Yummy. He plopped the plate into the microwave and waited. It finished seconds later. The stench filled the room.

Father brought the meal into the room and placed it on the table. They said grace…then, they actually prayed. Father blessed the mutton and barley loaves. He blessed his sons. He did not bless his wife. She had not prepared dinner. As they opened their eyes, there stood grandpa, lazy eye and all. Apparently in the process of closing the door, Mr. McConnell had shut the door on his grandfather arm.

Upon closer observation, it was the ulna that was severed. The bone shot outward the skin and pointed right at the family like a finger. He grimaced a little. Weird, blood was everywhere. Father motioned for grandfather McConnell to sit. He did so and set his arm on the table so all could see. He opened his mouth and began to tell his story. The table cloth faded from white to red...

Darnation! A World to Sewing Socks

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 01:37:00 +0000

Sock-sewing. Ahh, such a time of the past. Where are we now? All wrapped up with our fancy gizmos and gadgets. Iphones and toilets. Have we forgotten the ancient art of darning? Have we forgotten our heritage? I hope not. I look down at my sock right now, and a hole stares straight in my face. Defiant it is. This sock hole needs to be taught a lesson by Mother Needle.

So I decided to go on a quest. A quest to the South-American Andes...where darning began.

Rumor has it, a clan of middle-aged nuns inhabit a monastery atop the tallest peak. These nuns are no ordinary nuns. Besides wearing the typical black/white gowns and being excellent softball players, the nuns are darning masterminds! The great American darning ace, Jing-Lee Seung, was actually taught by the nuns (FYI Jing-Lee Seung has won 4 golden needles in past 2 Olympic games; just to let you know, I know you were dying to hear that).

So, I reached the monastery after a grueling 15-day hike. I walked up to the huge gopher wood door and knocked. My knocks echoed throughout the building. The door slowly creaked open, and an old lady appeared. I asked if this is where the expert darning nuns lived. She answered with a foreign sounding, "No you idiot, it's the monastery next door." I peered past the building I was at and saw the flashing lights of the "Incredible Darning Nuns of the Andes" blaring right back at me. Hmm, I must be the first foreigner to arrive. I'll make this quick. I don't to mess with their culture.

I walked up and paid my "tour fee," whatever that was. Gotta be something with their culture. Just do it.

Sitting in the dark sat all my idols. There was Rheja Sumada! She could cross-stitch a hole in 7 seconds flat! And there was Youhi Mefamo, she was the Queen's personal darner! I stood flabbergasted. Also, a little gassed. But that's besides the point. Those Andes enchiladas are deadly!

I mustered up the courage to ask a question. "Could I be your apprentice?" Seemed like a small request, right? Wait. Did she just nod her head?? I think she did. I jumped over the line ropes (another cultural thing). I started to darn.

And darn I did.

For the next 5 years, I learned. They taught me everything, and at the end of my tenure, I said my goodbyes. For some odd reason, they said nothing. Come to think about it, they hadn't said anything for 5 years (must be their culture).

I returned home and there sat my nemesis. The holey sock. Still defiant. Instantly, I sanctified that sock with a quick one two stitch and sat back. Victory....5 years of experience. Yeah! After a couple minutes, I looked down at the newspaper. Darning lessons for 5 bucks an hour. What?!?

UNTAMED & RESTLESS: Chapter 4

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 17:04:00 +0000

The plot thickens! See what happens to the McConnell family in this turn of events...I present to you Chapter 4...haven't read the previous chapters. Take your time, catch up reading at your own pace...

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Untamed & Restless
Chapter 4

Blake reached the top of the stairs, and walked to his room. The door was closed. Blake just stood there staring at the wood frame. Giddy with excitement, Benjie perched himself on the staircase. Benjie didn't have a room, he likened himself to a modern day hawkman. He had a nest and everything. He had let his finger and toenails grow out to about 6 inches. He was a literal hawkman. He would also occasionally preen himself when need be.

For the next 3 hours, Blake just stood there at his bedroom door. Benjie was getting UNTAMED & RESTLESS. I mean, who wouldn't? He was crouching in his nest for 3 hours straight. Think of the pain in the knees.
Blake had a reason for his unmoving self. He was reconsidering his world view. Pretty deep. Was life all about being Jewish? Yes, whatever Jews touch, becomes blessed. Things instantly become gold. Everyone knew that. But was he supposed to be Jewish?

Blake spun around and marched downstairs.

Just as he left, another black hole appeared and out popped wide-eyed Mrs. McConnell. She had just been to the end of the universe and back. She danced with Kalapogans, and speared giant Groygalls with the Sryjan fisherman. In 15 minutes earth-time, she had explored the universe for 5 years.

Glad to be home, Jean McConnell decided to go to clean Blake's room. Mrs. McConnell slowly opened her son's door. Benjie's trap was set in motion. The back up plan of Benjie's consisted of another black hole (the McConnell's really shouldn't have let Benjie take those "Witchcraft for Beginners" classes). Mrs. McConnell was again sucked in and sent to Nubulon 5. Here we go again...

Blake raced over to the computer and started searching the internet for a new religion. Tons of religions popped up. So many choices, so little time. Well, better try them out one by one. Process of elimination, am I right? He clicked on the first link. Buddhism. That link turned out to download a virus on his computer. Poopie. Start Virus-Scan. Blake waited 30 minutes. Virus-Scan complete. Whew. That was close. Thanks Windows!

Blake clicked on the same link. Virus downloaded again. Poopie.

Upstairs, Benjie was devastated. Could his brother Blake be immortal? Every attempt to kill off his brother was met with an amazing escape. Oh well, it was suppertime. His plans would have to wait. Benjie's stomach was grumbling as well as Mr. McConnell and Blake. Sometimes mom was just so lazy. How hard is it just to make dinner? Women.

But Benjie's thoughts were interrupted with a knock at the door. He peered out the window. He couldn't believe who it was.

Solving the National Debt

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 23:48:00 +0000

America has tons of debt. Tons is too nice. Let's be real. Trillions of debt. So much so, you could fill Pluto with dollar bills and still have some money left over to create a small village economy. So, as Americans, what are we to do? After going on a 12-day fast, I found an answer. I really need food. So I ate some. Then I looked up on the internet on how to fix national debt. I received the typical information...

Return to anarchy.
Bring Lenin back to life.
Sell our government control to China.
Takeover Britain. Use it as farmland. Sell corn to France.
Or...create a Ronald Reagan Robot to bring back economic relief.

Of course, these ideas are typical. But people you're missing a very obvious solution. You just need to use your brains. Here's your solution: sell off North Dakota to the highest bidder. Now don't argue with me saying that this idea isn't feasible. Technically, it could be possible. Technically.

Have Obama say we're giving away some valuable land. See if he can hype up that North Dakota would be a great place for a colony. Countries just love that. And no. It's not so "1600ish." I'm sure it's still "in." Colonies are all the fad.

North Dakota's estimated value is about $750,000. Not bad. It's not much, but it's a start. Soon, we'll be on our way to saying "I'm debt free!!" with Dave Ramsey. Of course, we might lose California in the process too.

UNTAMED & RESTLESS: Chapter 3

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 01:24:00 +0000

The moment you have all been waiting for! Chapter 3 of my first novel has been released. I know you all have been pulling your hair out in anticipation. In case this is your first time hearing about the novel, don't rush. You can catch up by reading in chunks. Here are the links to chapters 1 & 2. It's a thrilling novel. Don't get hooked and read it all at once!

Chapter 1
Chapter 2

Untamed & Restless
Chapter 3

Thoughts raced through Blake's mind. What had just happened? Another failed attempt at a Bar Mitzvah? He had finished his Torah reading and was proud of his performance. But there were no girls wanting to peck kisses on his cheek. No praising from his parents. No friends to...well he had no friends, so forget that. No manhood awaiting him. He was trapped in the adolescence chamber, and the key lost in a haystack. And it was a golden key, so it would be pretty hard to find in the yellow hay.

The car turned into the driveway of the middle-class household. Benjie was antsy. Behind the front door awaited Blake's worst nightmare. This horror was Benjie's final touch to finish off Blake. Blake would be gone, and Benjie could take his rightful place as the only child. This dream had been around since his birth. Benjie had tried many different strategies of eliminating his brother: the "it's just a toy gun" approach, the "go into this mysterious gas chamber for me" approach, and even the "step in the fire and stay there to become a wizard" approach. All failed. Mom had always walked in at the wrong time. Bummer.

But this time nothing could go wrong. The family got out of the car, and as always, Blake would be first to enter the house. He was always first inside the house. For the past 25 years he had. Weird. But he had. It was "his thing." There was no reason behind this phenomenon.

But today...today was different. Blake stopped. Yes. In mid-walk. In mid-Jewish walk. And mother passed on the left! NASCAR fans would have been jealous. Father McConnell was a NASCAR fan. He cheered mostly for Jeff Gordon. Gordon recently announced his Jewish ties with Nicodemus the Pharisee. Many a Jew became a NASCAR fan that day.

So, Mrs. McConnell reached the door before Blake. Blake's attention had shifted toward the next door neighbor's house which was currently on fire. Oddly, no one paid any attention. Blake did for a few seconds then followed mom inside. I'm sure the fire department would be by.

Benjie's evil smile turned sideways into a face of horror as his mom opened the door. She took one step forward. Oh no! The trap was set for Blake, not mother! Mother fell into an a bottomless pit. And she was gone. Who would cook dinner?

Blake took another stop in mid-walk. And just stared. Where was mom? She was in front of him just two seconds ago. Maybe she went upstairs. Hmm. Well, better get working on next year's Torah reading.

The black hole sealed up, and Blake went upstairs. Benjie's mouth dropped. Another missed opportunity to get Blake. Luckily, he had a backup. And the backup would be unleashed as soon as Blake got in his room. Benjie slowly closed the door. Flames of the neighbor's house continued to burn in the distance as Benjie pondered his next move.

Mr. McConnell called for his wife to make dinner. He was looking forward to the matzo later that night.

Recent Pen Research Released

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 23:51:00 +0000

I think the fountain pen is the next best thing to ever be invented. I will even argue that the writing instrument will be "hip" in the next 5 years. For the younger generation reading, hip is a word older people used to use to describe interesting products. The word has now been retired to history books along with bicycles and nutcrackers.

Anyway, junior highers all the way up to the highly paid executives will be sporting a new 150.00-5,200.00 pen. The Junior Highers will take out high-interest loans and grow up to be in-debt sweaty car salesman. And the executives will write the pens off as business expenses and continue to make millions. That's how society works.

Interestingly, the pen might equal the once favored palm pilot fascination. You remember those...not the iphone, not the ipod touch. I'm talking old school. The 3 inch-thick handheld cinder block we used to carry around. Yeah, the one that got the one hour battery life and then explodes. And we were suckers to fall for another poorly made American product. Palm, GM, what next? Not Microsoft....

Side note: you may argue that I pick on GM. I agree. I do. Ok, I addressed the issue. Let's move on from that topic forever.

GM can't build a reliable car for it's life. Ok. Forget that, I just said that to make you mad. We are talking about pens people! Pens! Highly priced pens that have no reason to be owned.

I saw in my favorite pen magazine called "Pen Magazine" that pen designers are releasing new pens that actually hold mini grappling hooks. Great. Now CEO's can make quick escapes from their offices when we try to catch them for committing fraud. While reading "Pen Magazine," I think I may have coveted. Yes, I know, it's a sin in 3 countries. I just saw a pen that could make McDonald's soft-serve ice cream. Amazing! You mean I can work on homework and ruin my cholesterol at the same time? Ah, America.

Literally, the pen will become the new pencil...people will flock. Pen's will be sold out everywhere you look. Willy Wonka will no longer use tickets, but Mont Blanc pens to invite children into his factory...

UNTAMED & RESTLESS: Chapter 2

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 02:56:00 +0000

The moment you have all been waiting for!! The second chapter to my first novel Untamed & Restless. If this is your first time hearing about the novel, go back to the previous post of chapter 1 and catch up. I'm telling you, don't miss it! Get a comfortable place and enjoy. The drama and suspense is killing the readers and even me the writer...I make it up as I go. And plus, the chapters aren't long at all. So, here it is for your enjoyment...

Untamed & Restless
Chapter 2

"Blake’s eyes skimmed the audience. There sat his 3^rd grade teacher. She said he’d never become a man. Oh! And there was the local pharmacist smirking at him. And in the back row sat Judge Berman, Blake’s archrival ever since high school. Judge Berman got all the girls, convicted and innocent, literally, because he was a judge. He got all the girls.

All his enemies sat in one room rooting for him to fail. But unbeknownst to Blake, his biggest enemy was sitting right under his nose on the front row. Benjie’s smile was so big, it would have been awkward to look at him. He was not showing any teeth, so you know it was one of those weird smiles. He had been holding the smile for about 10 minutes straight. A record in Wisconsin, but the family lived in Delaware.

Blake opened his mouth to speak from the Torah. The words flowed eloquently from his lips. He danced with verbs and cradled nouns. No preposition could stand in opposition. An English teacher would have married him that second if he wasn’t still a boy.

Blake had been looking down during the entire reading. He glanced upwards. Faces of shock, awe, and disgust looked back. He ended the chapter with a final Amen and peered toward his father for approval. His father had his hand on his forehead and was looking down. Mother McConnell was crying. Benjie was wearing a golden crown. Where did he get that?

Benjie thought to himself. He had won. His brother was an utter failure. This crown represented his victory over his brother this Sunday morn. He stood and started the “slow clap.” The clapping echoed throughout the crowded synagogue. No one joined in. So Benjie stopped after about the sixth clap and sat back down. He was satisfied. Many people agreed this had been the oddest Bar Mitzvah.

Apparently before the whole Bar Mitzvah had taken place, Benjie rewrote the whole Torah. Since Hebrew was Benjie’s forte, he matched the Torah’s flavor of writing precisely. Blake had obliviously read about prancing unicorns, the color purple, rainbows, and everything feminine. He even had a lisp out of nowhere. Everything would have been fine since it was in Hebrew, but this year Rabbi McConnell decided to have the translated words put up on screen so the audience could enjoy the reading as well.

As the crowd exited the building, Mr. McConnell came up to Blake. He put his hand on his son’s shoulder. But no words came out. He just continued to look down. Recently, the dad received neck surgery. He couldn’t lift his head any higher to look you in the face. It was sad, because he always look dismayed. Even when he won the lottery back in April, he hung his head.

Dad just patted Blake’s shoulder and headed to the car. Mom McConnell didn’t even make eye contact; she just kept crying. As with Mr. McConnell, Jean McConnell had gotten surgery performed as well. To save both eyes, the doctor’s removed the muscle to control her tear ducts. Now, Jean would cry at the most improper times. While entered in the “How long can you go without crying” contest, Jean lost within the first minute.

Both parents weren’t sad at all. Remember, they had been going to Bar Mitzvahs for the past 33 years. The McConnell's were used to Blake’s failings. They just had physical deformities. They wanted to get home quickly so they could catch the tail end of “The Matzo Ball.” The annual Jewish dance show rivaled to compete with “So You Think You Can Dance.” They just danced to Jewish sounding music.

Everyone piled in the car. As the Lincoln cruised at a comfortable 65 mph, Benjie’s evil smile returned. He wasn’t finished with Blake. This first act was just the icing on the cake; and the cake was a wedding cake with layers, so you know there was more to come. Phase two of Benjie’s plan went into place as soon as they stepped foot in the McConnell home. Benjie was acting UNTAMED AND RESTLESS, and only he knew why."

Come back in about 2 weeks for chapter 3!!

How to cut down more trees. We need space.

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Kopp) — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 00:24:00 +0000

In honor of "Save our Trees Awareness Month," I have decided to come up with many practical ways to cut down more trees. Hold on all you "I was born from a tree, and I like it" people. Let me explain. That way, when we realize how many different ways we can destroy trees...we can...umm, prevent people from doing all those malicious acts to trees! Yeah. That's right...cause...those people are bad...um people...umm, GLOBAL WARMING!!

Let's move on.

Suggestions on how You can destroy trees:
1. Arson. But hold your horses! I never "said" it. Wink wink. The late Smokey the Bear voice whispers in your ear, "Only you can prevent forest fires..."
2. Inject the rare drug "Hypogiamic Glotical" into all beavers. Beavers will then have a strange urge to make very very large dams. Odd side effect, I know, but they start to use trees instead of sticks. It's perfect.
3. Instead of going tailgating to the next football game, how about taking the guys out for a wild axe adventure of "Whoever cuts down the most trees, doesn't lose another limb" contest.
4. Give axes as gifts at parties & Christmas!
5. Join a large mob of political protesters and direct them to the nearest forest. Let them take out their anger on the trees. Any form of cutlery is fine. Forks? Yep, that'll work.
6. Recreate a John Henry versus "the machine" story. And see who wins. Try to get a crowd, it makes John Henry cut faster.
7. Tell the government that Taliban terrorists are hiding in America's forest. Bomb those puppies. Maybe use Napalm.
8. Have tons of Samurais fight in the forest. Have them miss a lot.

So, in honor of "Save of Trees Awareness Month," I hope all of you will do your part. And you should probably get looked at. If you're hearing bear voices, that's not a good thing.