Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Questions, questions, questions...

During my last stay at my favorite mental health facility, I managed to slip one arm out of my straitjacket and with a crayon I had secreted upon my person, I wrote down a few of the deep questions that were on my mind at the time…

If so many people are ready to believe that Jesus was married and may have modern day descendants, how come these same people aren’t at all worried about Satan’s potential progeny? I mean if Jesus fathered a child isn’t more than likely that Satan put a few "buns in the oven" in his time?

Does anyone else out there believe that movie studio executives are using a "Magic 8 Ball" to decide what films to make?

Why is it that a baseball player can face a 90 mile an hour fast ball while 50 thousand fans are screaming their heads off, but a golfer who hears the click of a single camera looks at the offending photographer as though he has just strangled a kitten?

Is there any practical reason why the lid on the tank of my toilet weighs almost as the lid of King Tut’s sarcophagus?

Did no one in the opera world ever see the irony of Luciano Pavarotti playing the role of a "starving" poet in "La Boheme"?

How is it that in a world where people constantly complain about the large number of television commercials that they’re forced to endure, QVC (which is basically commercials without programming) can be so successful?

Does anyone really believe that the conductor of a symphony orchestra is anything but a glorified timekeeper?


I did have more questions, but it was at this point that my crayon broke.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Remember, one man's insanity is another man's brilliance...or one man's ceiling is another man's floor...one of those, can't really recall. Deep questions that I shall ponder for the balance of the evening...or at least the next couple of minutes. Brilliant! as per usual.

Anonymous said...

i had a few questions of my own, but then i started reading this post and laughing, and my chamomile tea snorted out of my nose, which was gross to say the least, so i grabbed a tissue, but it turned out to be a sock, and a dirty one at that, so i ran downstairs with the snotty dirty sock and ...wha? hmmm? what was i saying?

you're a fuuny funny fellow, TDB! (or, if i had allowed the comment to go through as i initially typed it, upi]re a fimmu fimmu fe;;pw/ TDV... late, fingers/brain don't work so well) : D

Raymond Betancourt said...

Not to worry, chamomile tea makes a fine natural nasal cleanser...the dirty sock, not so much.