Purge Time

In the world of video games, when something doesn't go just right, you can hit the reset button. Mr. Blog, meet mister reset button. A Rabid Garbage Can 2.0 coming soon. (Hopefully with a more rabid, less zombie looking garbage can...)

Future Beast

Short post (or long post, if compared to the normal length of posts, i.e. non-existent.)

I'll update this with a picture of the beast for comparison later. For now though, I have found a role model for my car.

Oops

Oops

Well, kinda let this get away from me for a while, but I believe it's time to pick it back up. Starting today there will be at least one post a week on this blog. Look forward to a special feature towards the end of the week, where we'll be examing the views of a certain caped-crusader on the topic of marriage; it'll take some time as I'm going to have to collect a few videos for this, and also plan to do a biblical counter point to the topic as well.

Oops

Well, kinda let this get away from me for a while, but I believe it's time to pick it back up. Starting today there will be at least one post a week on this blog. Look forward to a special feature towards the end of the week, where we'll be examing the views of a certain caped-crusader on the topic of marriage; it'll take some time as I'm going to have to collect a few videos for this, and also plan to do a biblical counter point to the topic as well.

Adventures with Nyquil

I intended to make a post yesterday to introduce my attempt to begin biblical discussion. Unfortunately, I woke up coughing, so I grabbed the first bottle of medicine I could find. Oops.

Enter NyQuil (Etymology: Ny- shortened form of night, Quil- something people write with.) Clearly the name of this medicine is a misnomer. You would expect that this helps you write. I went to school/work and tried writing a paper for my class. Having just taken something named Quil, I would have thought that this would be a relatively simple undertaking. How wrong I was.

I somehow managed to push out four pages of something. I'm not entirely sure what I wrote about. I think there may have been a moose, but I can't say for certain. The process of printing out the paper and the walk to class are lost to me, hidden somewhere in the dark green mist of NyQuil. I conclude this must be what it's like to be hungover.

I arrive at my class and proceed to do my best imitation of a bobble-head

doll. Or maybe one of those inflatable punching bags everyone had as a kid. I never fell out of my chair. I'm not really sure how that didn't happen, but I'm not complaining. You know the scene where King Kong falls off the Empire State Building? It woulda been kinda like that, only without planes, a giant gorilla (or man in a gorilla suit,) or a building. Just one big dude drugged up on NyQuil taking a dive.

I've decided that taking NyQuil and then not sleeping must be similar to being high. The class is two hours long, so we took a break in the middle. A break I took advantage of by obtaining a Mountain Dew. Now Mountain Dew has lots of caffeine and sugar, both of which I was relying on to overcome the NyQuil. On one hand, it worked. I stopped wobbling and almost passing out. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure it made my mental state worse. I spent the last hour of the class in a world where my car was a transformer, and it was fighting a giant pelican. Don't worry though, my car beat the giant bird. Go Beast!

Class ends, and I go back to my computer lab job, where in a NyQuil induced stupor I stare at the computer screen and wonder if all the little letters are actually people staring back at me, wanting to be free. I laugh and start hitting the delete key. Like I said, not exactly the best mental state ever. I leave the lab and go to my second job at good old McDonalds, home of arches and 'eart attacks. I get free drinks while I'm there, so I kept switching between soda and poweraid.

Consider for a moment the logic of this. A single 20oz Mountain Dew bottle sent me into a world of giant robots and evil birds. The amount of caffeine and sugar I consumed over the course of my shift at McDonalds was far greater than that of a single bottle of Mountain Dew. If I hadn't approached a state similar to being high before, I definitely did now. After the store closed and I was cleaning, my mind drifted away into a happy place...

I sat at the judges table, staring out at the dance floor, waiting for the contest to start. The two other judges were the Burger King King and a giant egg person (I think it may have been Humpty Dumpty, not sure though...) This seems perfectly normal to me. As I sit, not pondering the strange company I was keeping, or what I was doing judging a dancing competition, the music started. Out came the first contestant... a duck. Not just any duck, either. This was the duck. This Aflac mascot moonwalked to center stage, and proceeded to dance to Beat it. Still, this seemed completely normal.

(It should be noted that I was still cleaning while this was going on. At least I assume I was. The next time I was aware of the store around me, what I had been cleaning was clean.)

The next contestant was actually two ducks. For those who have never seen ducks swing dance, let me tell you it's awesome. I don't remember the other contestants, so it came down to the swing dancers and Michael Duckson. The King and I voted for the swing ducks, but Humpty disagreed. The King apparently got angry (couldn't really tell with the creepy mask) and knocked him off the judges platform. Humpy fell to the ground and shattered. The King then chased away everyone trying to put him back together, and made an egg sandwich which the then began trying to hand to everyone.

To sum up, the swing dancing ducks won, NyQuil's trippy if you don't sleep, and if you see the King with a breakfast sandwich know that he committed eggicide to get it. Also, if you ever get attacked by a giant, evil, man-eating pelican, we can hide inside my car. It'll win.

Profoundly Stupid: A New School of Thought

There are many schools of philosophical thought, Plato to Descartes, Pythagoras to Marx. I ignore all of them. Profoundly Stupid is the official philosophy of the Rabid Garbage Can (it also tends to be shared by Rabid Trash Compactors, Rabid Dumpsters, and even Rabid Land Fills. But not Rabid Recycle Bins, the heathens...) Profoundly Stupid isn't a philosophy that one can aspire to attain, as merely being aware of it can fully negate it.

The Profoundly Stupid requires being only barely aware of ones surroundings. To be a Profound Stupiditist you either have to 1) Absent mindedly do something really dangerous/stupid, but somehow not get hurt. For example walking under a tree that someone is cutting down, and when it falls being mere inches away from it. Or 2) Absent mindedly do something that to any normal person wouldn't be dangerous, but find some way to injure yourself in so doing. Such as trying to unplug a computer, and shoving your finger into an electrical outlet in the process.

Over the course of the next month, anticipate many entries in the Profoundly Stupid category. Since my girlfriend is on the far side of the Earth, moon, Earth, Pluto, I've been, shall we say, a little distracted. Such a state of mind is prime for occurrences of the profound and stupid.

Be prepared, as you will soon be exposed to the miracle that is the continued life of the Rabid Garbage Can, (and also why he's rabid.)

Thus It Begins

Well, this is it. I'm stepping into the world of blogging. Intertubes beware!

Provided that I am successful in convincing myself to continue posting on here, you can expect a mostly random assortment of topics from me. There will be some biblical discussion, as well as a bunch of other random stuff. Don't expect anything to make sense, that's not really my style.

Without further ado, welcome to the home of the rabid garbage can, beware! Without arms and legs he's not much of a threat, but beware him anyway.