Question: Melissa Layland asks: "When you go to a public place, such as a theater, which armrest is yours, the right or the left?"


Answer: This question is nearly as old as time itself.  But at last, I will put this ancient inquiry to bed.  To set the scene, I will first provide a little history.  Approximately 750 years ago, man came to the realization that holding your own arms up can indeed be a tiresome task.  Of course, man had already discovered that standing was also a waste of time, and had invented the chair.  Clearly, it was apparent that something was necessary to hold up one's arms as well.  Many of you may be familiar with Thomas Crapper, who you probably believe to have invented the flushing toilet.  Whoever told you this was a liar.  Although Crapper did own a plumbing company called Thomas Crapper & Co (which would make a great band name), he did not invent the toilet.  In reality, he invented what we refer to today as the armrest.  Why Crapper never combined his love of plumbing and armrests to create a super awesome toilet, the world will never know.  The armrest quickly became a staple in society, and has remained so ever since.


So, back to the original question.  You go to the theater; you are seeing the Rugrats Movie with your significant other.  You sit down with your imitation popcorn drenched in imitation butter and drink a $7 bottle of imitation water.  You go to rest your weary arms on your armrests and.....Eghad!!!! There are already arms on both of your armrests!!  What the (place expletive here)!  As a lazy human being do you not have the right to accost one of the perpetrators and claim the armrest that is truly yours?  No, that is what a low-life would do.  (America the Beautiful begins playing here) We believe in capitalism in this country, Americans act in self-interest, its all about opportunity cost, and we will curbstomp anybody who gets in our way.  So here is what you do.  You watch that armrest like you would your wallet in Mexico.  The moment one of those slimeballs lifts their arm to scratch their nose, you strike like a cobra and claim that armrest.   They try to return their arm to the armrest, they feel yours and they look at you, as if their pathetic stare is supposed to make you feel guilty.  DO NOT GIVE IN.  Watch your movie in comfort.  So, the simple answer to this question is that you are entitled to all and any armrests, but you must use your stealth and cunning to deserve their comfort.

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Monotony: Having lived in Arizona for the first 18 years of my life, leaves of varied colors seen during something called "Autumn"were strange and foreign to me. Whenever I would travel to Utah or somewhere similar during that time of the year I would marvel in the beauty of the seas of golden, bronzed, and yellow leaves. No longer do I see such beauty. When I came up to Provo, UT for school, I got a job on campus working with the grounds crew. We blow leaves. Lots of them. Every single day. I go to work at 8:00, strap on my backpack leaf blower and blow for the next four hours. I now realize how selfish I was all those years seeing beauty in those fallen leaves, because I never realized that some poor unfortunate soul would have to pick up those blasted things. I suppose it could be worse. I mean I could have to pick up the leaves individually with chopsticks, have my fingernails pulled out with pliers and then forces to scrape them off the wet ground, or I could be forced to endure the Chinese water torture for four hours a day.

Exceptionality: Remember, remember the 5th of November. Have you ever heard this saying and not understood what it was referring to? That use to be me, but as of recently I was cultured and learned exactly what the 5th of November is and how it should be celebrated. Apparently on November 5th in 1605 some fool by the name of Guy Fawkes made a failed attempt to place and detonate a bomb beneath the House of Lords; if he had been successful he would have killed King James I and members of Parliament. The date is known as Guy Fawkes Night. I have no idea why this specific failed assassination attempt is remembered, seeing as there have been a plethora of homicidal under-achievers throughout history. But this is not the true matter of discussion. If you wish to properly celebrate Nov. 5th, the following is the list of supplies you will need: 50 empty milk jugs, an old newspaper, about 40 gallons of gasoline, an old, abandoned mineshaft, and a lighter. If you have not already figured it out, the proper celebration is composed of throwing molotov cocktails (fashioned from milk jugs, gasoline, and newspaper) down an old abandoned mineshaft in the middle of nowhere. I must admit when I first heard the plans for the night I was a little skeptical, but after watching the first flaming milk jug fall deep into the bellows of the mineshaft, smash into the wall, and burst into a spectacular fireball, I was hooked. It is a November tradition I plan to continue for many years to come and recommend to all who wish to change their lives forever. It is also acceptable to burn Guy Fawkes in effigy to end the night's festivities.

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Question: Broderick Gardner asks
 
"What do you call a pregnant goldfish?"
 
Answer: First of all Broderick, thank you so very much for sending in your question. The answer comes in two parts due to the vagueness of the question.
 
The first part of the answer has to do with the world of fashion.

As you all know, I am an avid fan of all things fashionable, and therefore I often frequent the trendy style website http://pregnantgoldfish.wordpress.com/. I typically check out all the latest posts on pregnantgoldfish every day as I get dressed. I would recommend that you all do the same. Some of my personal favorite outfits from the site are "Dreams in Ripped Jeans" and "Bali Babe". I try to work those two outfits into my wardrobe every other week or so.
 
The second part of my answer is if Broderick was actually referring to a physical goldfish, or Carassius auratus. In this case, then a pregnant goldfish is called a twit. Well actually not really. You see, a pregnant goldfish was given the name of twit or twerp, because goldfish cannot actually be pregnant because they are in fact egg layers. Someone who has been breeding goldfish for over 20 years told me that the correct term for an egg laden goldfish is a "gravid", a term that is usually used for live bearing animals. So really, there is no official name for a pregnant goldfish, and the name twit was given as a joke. As I'm sure you know, the word twit commonly refers to someone who is foolish or annoying. It's sort of like that if you are willing to think for a long time about the name of a pregnant goldfish then you are a twit. Wait.......you are a clever one Broderick Gardner.
 
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Monotony: I am not a bathroom person. I do not like bathrooms. I do not like thinking about, them, being in them, or being near them. The main reason I do not like bathrooms is that they most often house a toilet, urinal, bidet, or other some other bodily fluid capturing device. These contraptions, albeit necessary, do not sit well with me. And I don't sit well on them. I had the experience of coming home the other day to discover that one of my roommate's friends had done the honors of clogging the toilet. Unfortunately, I did not discover this unfortunate face until after I had used the toilet and then flushed it. I watched in horror as the water level rose...and rose...and rose. Needless to say the floor got very wet. Now when I said that I don't like toilets, I meant that I do not like touching them at all, and drying up toilety water from the floor is basically like putting your hand in the toilet. Also, to dry up all the water, I had to sacrifice MY OWN BATH TOWEL. If that does not make me a hero, then I don't know what does. I then got to use the plunger. That was fun. I shall soon inform my roommate's friend to cut down on his fiber intake if he plans on coming back.

Exceptionality: For the past few weeks I have been looking for a television for a decent price. Because every college student needs to be able to play their Nintendo 64. I found a posting on Craigslist for a television that was to be sold at a yard sale. It was listed as a TV for $75. I recognized from the Craigslist posting that the sellers were old and feeble and I could easily take advantage of them. But I was gravely mistaken. I sent the lady an email regarding the television and inquired whether or not she would be able to move on the price. After a feverish email-bartering-battle (consisting of 2 emails) I had triumphed and lowered the price to $55 dollars. A few days later I went to pick up the TV further haggled the lady down to a price of $30. Actually she insisted that I only pay 30 and I tried to give her 40. I got the TV back to my apartment and then watched my roomate and his friends carry it up 3 flights of stairs. It looked exhausting. With all the business said and done, I know have a 56" television. And believe me, Perfect Dark has never looked better. Or so life-sized.

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Monotony: First day of college life. Found apartment. Moved everything in. Made quick judgement of roommate based on belongings in room. Very organized. Unpacked. Stressed about which drawer should be used for socks. Top right. Went grocery shopping and spent $50.16. Top Ramen and grilled cheese. Went to friends apartment. Air conditioning broken. Sucks to be you.

Exceptionality: Brought friends to apartment. Put key in door. Open door. Strange. Large TV in living room. Not there before. Unidentified people on couch watching movie. Must be roommates friends. Act friendly. Ask what movie they are watching. They pause then mutter answer. Something not worth watching. Take friends into kitchen. Girl on couch rises and speaks. Hey this doesn't actually look like my kitchen. 'So, who are you?'. In wrong apartment. Key opened door because it was unlocked. Quickly leave apartment. Take three steps across landing. Put key in door. Open door. Second try's the charm.

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Well. Welcome to Indiferous. The place where you find answers to your most life-threatening question, such as: what is the purpose of life? And: why are stoplights in New Mexico horizontal as opposed to vertical? The place where you learn of exceptional monotonies and monotonous exceptionalities. The place where you can go when you feel alone in the world and are currently about to slit your wrists. Don't expect a shoulder to cry on though. The place where you can't help but to come back for less.

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