Get My Dinner or I'll Burn this Mother Down

I read a charming little news piece this afternoon about a husband in West Virginia (a hotbed for stories about crazy people) who was a bit miffed his wife didn’t have his dinner on the table when he got home from whatever crazy people do on Sunday afternoons.

The guy, who looks like Leonardo (daVinci, not DiCaprio), but who clearly was no Renaissance man, opted against the traditional forms of protest—for example, asking nicely—or other alternatives, like cooking his own damned food or ordering in.

Allegedly, his dinner was important enough, and her failure to provide it egregious enough, that he set their home on fire. Nothing sends a message about unsatisfied expectations like a good four-alarm blaze, I always say. I bet next time she’ll have his fucking meat-and-potatoes on the table when he gets home from the bar, dammit!

In Montreal, another man was arrested for setting fire to his house after an argument with his wife. No details were provided about whether or not he’d eaten…but my guess would be no. I’m no expert, but I find it hard to believe any man would burn down his house on a full stomach. I know I wouldn’t.

I know what you’re thinking. Big deal. Who hasn’t threatened to torch their house during a tiff from time to time? Just the other night, Patty was wrong about something, but wouldn't accept that I'm almost always right. So, to make my point, I retrieved the gas can from the garage and set it on the kitchen counter with a note that said, "Care to rethink your position? All my love, Brian. P.S. Make me a sandwich?"

Still, I see your point. If everyone who set their house on fire justified a blog entry, there’d be blogs on that subject alone. Fire, schmire. Okay, I’ll go one better.

An overwrought pilot (and I have to weigh in with the opinion that “overwrought” and “pilot” are not a great combination) recently sent an email to his girlfriend, threatening to crash a passenger jet if she didn’t get back together with him. Again, no information on whether she’d forgotten to bring him his lunch.

Ladies – why must you make our lives so difficult?

Those with Enlarged Genitals Need Not Apply

At some point during childhood, hasn’t every boy entertained a dream of becoming a police officer? Well, on the island of Papua, a starry-eyed dreamer can only become a defender of justice if he resists the not-uncommon urge to modify his penis into an absurdly oversized, bloated and painful monster.

It’s even in the job interview.

“Good morning, and thanks for coming in. Wow, your scores at the Academy are off the charts. You look like you’d be a fine protector of what’s right and just.”

“Thank you, sir. I did my best to stand out.”

“Very good. And that brings me to my first question—purely routine, but they insist on it upstairs. Been messing with that penis at all?”

“Come again?”

“Have you been working on enhancing your, er, little fella?”

“Sir?”

“It’s a simple question, son. Have you wrapped your pecker in gatal-gatal leaves? Made it all inflamed and puffy to impress the ladies and intimidate the boys in the change room?”

“But sir…”

“ANSWER the question!”

One wrong answer…"Oh, I guess I might have wrapped it in a leaf or two, but just the one time"...and the dream dies.

Much of Papua is governed by various tribes who for many years have sought independence from both the official bureaucracy and the constraints of what the good lord gave them. The more sensible recruits stay away from the leaves of the gatal-gatal (or “itchy”) tree, which apparently makes one’s member look as though it has been stung by a swarm of bees, and instead sport a koteka—or, for the less culturally evolved, the common penis gourd. It’s fancy, more than a little impressive (available in various sizes, shapes and angles) and doesn’t lead to hours of wailing and screaming.

What’s more, if you remember to leave your gourd at home on interview day, you may just become a Papuan boy in blue one day.

NOTE (for the gents, and the gals who love them): I checked. Apparently, gatal-gatal leaves are not readily available in North America. Dammmmmmmmmmmmiiiiittttttt! However, you can order five-packs of koteka gourd seeds from Amazon for $3.99. Only five more packs are in stock (actually, four, now), so don’t delay.