Jacobmu and the Shame I Feel

I love swimming in pools and I love entertaining people. At one point I was able to combine these two passions into one spectacular event that can only be described as the low point of my adolescence.

As an overweight twelve year old there are only so many ways to pass time. Your options are basically narrowed down to eating and finding ways to make people laugh. In the movies, the protagonist is never fat...but his best friend usually is. He also usually has red hair and freckles and provides the majority of the comic relief. I aspired to be that guy. I also aspired to be accepted by my older siblings. In such a pursuit one is subjected to doing things that when you look back on them weren't funny because you made them funny, but were funny because you were fat when you did them.

My older sister successfully manipulated my love for acting and marine life, thereby nurturing the creation of a character that has come to be known as Jacobmu. It is a play on words of the name of the popular Orca whale, Shamu, who regularly headlines at the animal prison known as SeaWorld.

A typical Jacobmu performance included me diving underwater, pushing up from the bottom of the pool and breaching the surface with spectacular grace only to splash back down with a resounding smack. My sister found this hilarious, which pleased me, which made me keep doing it. And then I realized. "I don't think they're laughing with me."

And so, with a shame similar to that felt by a white guy in Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles, I retired Jacobmu. I have taken a vow against ever doing any physical comedy involving my weight ever again. Unless I get paid.

While I am extremely ashamed of my Jacobmu phase, nothing compares to the embarrassment felt when I think of the Sharky McSharkington incident, which involved one of these and very little, if anything, else:

I'll let you figure it out.

I'm Doing it for the Babes

Everyone makes bad decisions all the time. For instance, just yesterday I ate at Burger King. That restaurant has the most expensive fast food but the quality and taste isn't even that great. I was left to ponder questions such as, "Why did I pay 8 dollars for this?" and "Why is my burger hot everywhere?" Turns out they microwave your burger right before they give it to you. Buns, lettuce, tomato, everything just gets nuked before they serve it up. It's an abomination.

But that's not what this is about.

I was using the bathroom at BK when I noticed several epitaphs scratched into the porcelain sink. It was the same type of graffiti you see in every public bathroom but it made me wonder, who actually takes the time after they're done peeing in Burger King to pull out they're keys or whatever and scratch "tweetyburd" into the urinal? People who want to be famous that's who. Do you really there was any ethical/dignity induced restraint keeping me from scratching the URL to this blog on the toilet seat? There definitely wasn't. I only didn't do it because I didn't have my car keys and also I sooner die than touch a public toilet seat. And please don't comment on this post saying that there is more bacteria on the floor of the bathroom than the toilet seat because that was just a lie spread around by pervs who don't wash their hands. But seriously it is disgusting how many people leave public facilities without washing their hands. "Oh I didn't touch anything" is the non-hand washing persons excuse most of the time. BS! because A) that's impossible and B) it's just effing disgusting. The tenth circle of hell is reserved for those people.

I digress. Fame entices a great number of people. I mean, all of the plans I've made for my future depend on this blog becoming famous*. So I can't really blame "tweetyburd" or "AXLEHAMMER" for their amateur epitaphs because dey really only esspressin demsselves da only way dey know how. Who knows, tweety is probably an amazing poet but the world doesn't recognize his talent and so his meekly carved name on an unkown bathroom sink represents a small plea for some recognition from his fellow human beings. Right on tweetyburd, right on.

Just kidding. It was probably just some angsty 13 year old with identity issues and a rusty nail.

*but seriously if I don't start making some money off of this thing soon I'm looking at the inside of a refrigerator box. But at least in a nice neighborhood.