Philly news reports look fairly stupid right now.  I’m looking outside and there seems to be about an inch on the ground.  I saw anywhere up to 12″ as an estimate. Easy job though predicting the weather.

While everyone is enjoying the snow day, here are some unusual clips that I find hilarious.

 

In a pointless article in the WSJ today, Wyoming decided to declare the firing squad as a backup plan to lethal injection.  It gets extremely confusing because the reasoning is that there are “problems with the supply of lethal-injection drugs.”  How many people does Wyoming have to deal with the death penalty you may ask?

Wyoming, the nation’s least populous state, has no one on death row and has executed only one person since 1976.    

There is more written in the article but it’s mostly hooey.  Fortunately this spurred a blog topic in better ways to kill inmates than by a firing squad which has to be a horrible way to go.  How many people does a firing squad consist of?  Can’t it be 1 bullet to the brain?  Why do we need a squad of men to fire at the same time?  Who picks this is as a back-up?  Wyoming, this is why you don’t deserve respect.  Choose one of these.

Guillotine –  Used during the French Revolution to kill thousands.  Declared inhumane.

Cost – A sharp blade falling from the sky doesn’t sound too expensive plus it can be re-used as long as it was maintained.  The contraption looks as simple as some wood an nails.

Death – Instant.  I couldn’t think of a better way to go.

Problem –  If the blade gets dull and you get a hanger.  That would be uncomfortable.

 

Cement Shoes –  Cement shoes traditionally involve binding or incapacitating the victim and placing each foot into the two spaces of a cinder block, which is then filled with wet cement.  The victim is then throw into a deep body of water.  Hence the phrase, “sleeping with the fishes.”

Cost – The cinder block and cement.  Time waiting for the cement.

Death – Hard to describe.  Probably painless and zero clean up.  Shark population would increase.

Problem – If the inmate somehow dislodges from the cinderblock and isn’t fish food, corpses could start floating around.

 

The 300 Hole – “THIS IS SPARTAAAA!”  It’s possible that the hole ends somewhere below but I like to think of it as never ending.

Cost – High.  Lots of digging.  Not really sure how it turns into the abyss.  If it doesn’t turn into the abyss, bodies piling up would eventually make it useless.

Death – Hitting the ground would hurt and more broken bones might be more likely.

Problem – Uncertainty surrounds the depths of the hole.

Jeff, Julia, and I were talking about art and what makes it desirable. Julia said something to the effect, “some art just speaks to me and I have to have it.” Then I started thinking to myself what is an item that I would want with strong emotion. I couldn’t think of one.

So today rolls around and my brain was wandering and I knew the answer to the question was nothing tangible. Fancy cars, mansions, or exquisite watches weren’t it. These are items I would have if I could but aren’t what I truly want.  Although I’d list making money as high but it’s not the money as much as it’s the accomplishment.

The best answer I could think of was blog traffic. People who don’t have a blog don’t understand what it takes to gain people reading what you write. When people come to read your blog you have a chance to gain their respect and approval. The more people who get behind you, the more power you wield. If I was in charge of a website that directed popular opinion, I would be satisfied. It’s saying what you’ve done means something.

I try a lot of various techniques to gain traffic and almost all of them miss the mark. Today I stepped over the line commenting on Sam’s blog giving Gourlay praise by making a comment about them sauntering over one another. My goal was to point out that the title wasn’t very good and instead of being constructive I was assholish. It’s all done to be witty and bring content to the these blogs. It missed.

I see “blogs” all the time pop up in my newsfeed and I’ll read them to see what inexperienced people are capable of blogging. Most of the time I think they aren’t bad but 9 out of 10 have a few entries and then quit. It may even be 10 out of 10. People think that blogging is fun but I certainly wouldn’t describe it as that. It’s work.

You have to know why you’re doing it. I mentioned why I do above. To have people understand how I think, compare it to their own, and then hopefully (never) comment. I wouldn’t be doing this for 5 years if I didn’t like it but I also have reasons for doing it.

The main reason is to conquer Google. It’s to have Google send people to the website because it’s respected. My goal is to have it give rnningfool.com a higher page rank and then have people flood in to read what I’ve written. Obviously what I’m doing hasn’t quite gotten there but I try to improve every single post I do. The last 4 posts I’ve done aren’t throwing shit against a wall. They are written specifically to interest people and try to gain traffic.

I’ve spent long enough on this post but I had to make amends with Sam and give reason for why I do what I do.

When I was a Sophomore in High School my English teacher was Ms. Hughes.  I was 15.  She was probably 25.  When I think back through my 15 year old eyes she seems WAY older than 25.  This is in no way mean spirited but she was a full grown adult and I was a skinny twerp.  Anyway, Ms. Hughes was a babe.

This post isn’t going to go where you’d think it’s going to go.   I’m way to much of a pussy to pull anything like that off.  So then your probably asking why are you writing about your small penis in the title?  Good question and the answer is because you’ve read until this second paragraph.

If the point of this post was to bring the reader up and then disappoint them then I guess I would have accomplished the task.  However, I do have a few tidbits from my Ms. Hughes days and a current day joke that I thought was clever.

It’s possible Ms. Hughes was the only teacher to treat me like I was smarter than I was.  She called me “smug boy” and let me read the part of John Proctor in the Salem Witch Trials.  This is all after I wrote a summer reading paper on Huck Finn and why it’s wrong to use the N word so many times clearly showing I hadn’t read any of the book.

I was always an above average student in track 2 classes and a joke in honors courses.  I’ve pretty much continued this throughout my entire life.  You don’t always have to be the smartest person though to be successful and I’m hoping the future will show this.

Now to finish this post with further insight to the title.  I was reading how if everyone used Comic Sans font it would cost about $1.6 billion dollars of extra ink.  I brought this up to Adam and Evan and somehow we got onto turning in papers with certain font and Ms. Hughes name sprung up.  Then the obligatory “how hot Ms. Hughes was” appeared and the joke popped of ramming her with my size 3 font penis.  We laughed.  My penis wouldn’t be a 3 though.  It would be 12.  Font.  Not inches.

*This post sort of took a life form of its own.  I started it with the final joke in mind knowing full well it wasn’t enough for a post.  However, I feel people prefer nonsensical posts over something with any point.

Last night I went to CK4 and Nikkii’s house to attend a get together with my parents and a friend who we don’t see that often. We had a good time sharing stories and hanging out but the inspiration for this post came from that night.

While I was sleeping I had a dream that CK4 and I were negotiating a massive deal for a new technology that we invented. For the life of me I can’t remember what the idea was but we were seated on one side of table and on the other side was an investor like Chang from Million Dollar Arm. In the room with us with us was a college cheerleading team eating pizza. Anyway, at one point Chang said he had one final question that involved the distribution of retro fitted technologies (quite the curve ball). We said we didn’t understand the question and he said he couldn’t make it any clearer. We took recess to discuss and after that he disappeared.

In another bizarre dream that night one of our business competitors in real life opened up a store down the street from our location. As I was perusing their retail store a biker who tripped and broke his leg was brought into the store. I was laughing because these types of events were bound to happen often.

I’ve been short of ideas and this was the most interesting story that came to my mind. Sorry.