Chicken Flava Shoots from the Hip
For the vigilant pacifist, guns are typically not a sign of good things to come. I myself draw no happiness from a gun. I have friends with guns, who shoot guns, who feel safe or excited by the simple presence of their guns. I am not one of them. Guns scare the gooey snot out of me. I am not one to argue with the second amendment’s right to bear arms. This post is not political. The Founding Fathers were much smarter than me, and I hold that truth to be self evident.
I will say guns bring me happiness when watching action films — shoot ‘em uppers where good is clearly distinguished, and evil usually takes a righteous bullet in between the eyes within the last couple minutes. And boy do I love a shitty action flick. Who cares if Wesley Snipes pays taxes? Not me.
But this weeks theme has tried to equate guns to happiness. I say that’s bogus, yousir, yessir. Guns are usually involved in sadness. The creation of havoc. Suicide and homicide. So instead of going about trying to equate something I do not believe, I will tell you what DOES bring people happiness. Besides this picture.
Based on an informal survey I did of one person I met at a dinner party, (and a bunch of other super science stuff) I have concluded that happiness comes from the sound of a soda/beer can opening. Associatively. Click on this super sweet greenish gray box I embedded below.
Its like the release of an orgasm. Think of that delicious soda. Or beer. Or sparkling water. Or energy drink. CHSSSSSSICKAAAAAAAAAAAA. Oh god I want a Chocolate Shasta so bad right now. Oh wait. No I don’t. Shasta is nasty. How about Fanta? Canada Dry. Or one of those Dr. Brown’s. Black Cherry. Cel-mutha-fuckin’-ray! And the beer. Sweet watered down hops I dream of Miller Lite.
The sound itself is instantly recognized. Good times to come. Sweet refreshment. CHSSSSSSICKAAAAAAAAAAAA. Beer drinking games anyone? Ever played Wizard’s Staff? Only drink beer cans, and duct tape each empty to the bottom of the next beer. CHSSSSSSICKAAAAAAAAAAAA. By the end of the night the longest Wizard’s Staff wins. And obviously someone gets clobbered.
Imagine if we could weaponize this sound somehow. CHSSSSSSICKAAAAAAAAAAAA. We could spread happy throughout the planet. Drop sound not bombs. Carpet bombing would be enjoyable. We must figure out how to harness this power for the greater good. Middle East peace after a case of Bud Heavy. Crispy clean Bud Heavy.
Happy Thanksgiving Tryptophanatics. Leftovers for everyone. Turkey Milkshake for you?
Tune in next week to help explore Chicken Flava’s boorish ennui while simultaneously examining the chicken condition.