people who need people are the luckiest people in the world

i like helping people.
helping people makes people feel awesome, which means more high fives for me and/or me feeling better about myself.
here are three ways i've decided to help people.

1. - dress like Santa
"everyone loves Santa!" not true. only kids like Santa. the problem is, all kids today know Santa is fake. the best time to be Santa probably would've been in the 50's, when kids still thought he was real, (but this is problematic because the 50's were also the time when suspicious parents were most likely to accuse Santa of being a "spineless commie". which he was. [is?]). anyway, i would dress like Santa and entertain not children, but puppies. just hop into the suit and roll around in a kennel full of orphaned puppies for a few hours. delightful. this would actually be a two-pronged attack of people helpage. firstly, the puppies would be happier, having been visited by Old Saint Nick, thus making whoever adopted them happier still. secondly, immediately after the Great Xmas Puppy Frolic, i'd go visit some lonley and destitute homeless folk, cheering them up by a) being Santa, and b) reeking of fresh puppy. i can see them now, huddled around a cliched but moderately warm thrashcan fire, that first wrinkled face looking up and noticing me, seeing the beard and big red coat and happily exclaiming, "hey fellas! look! it's Gary!".

2. - be a 911 switchboard operator
manning the phone lines for 911 is a great way to help in and of itself. but i've come up with a way to help even more. picture an hysterical wife calling. "oh my god! oh my god! my husband is trapped under the mower! please pleaase help!". i understand ma'am. please remain calm. i've notified an ambulance and they're on their way. now go to your husband, and tell him i've also notified Batman. he'll be there shortly. bam. the wife will calm instantly, because she thinks Batman is coming to fix everything. the husband, even if he is seconds from death, will somehow, deep from within, find the will and the strength to hang on a little longer. because he wants to meet Batman. this method also helps the real paramedics, giving them more time to do their job properly AND giving them an opportunity to discuss Batman during a call, which i'm sure they rarely get to do. is Batman even a doctor? i would say yes, he probably is.

3. - always carry a lighter or matches
always carry a lighter or matches in case a hot girl who smokes asks you for a light.

typecast much?

i've often wondered about the people who answer casting calls for physically repulsive roles in movies and television shows. and i don't mean repulsive roles like "monster from space"; i mean repulsive roles like "morbidly obese herpes lady with no eyes" or "disgusting filth covered wino".
then i started thinking about my favorite cinematic filth covered wino of all time*, Vance Colvig Jr. from "Weird Al" Yankovic's 1989 comedy classic 'UHF'.
then i wondered what other notable roles V.Colvie has graced us with over the years.
so i looked it up on the internet.
i couldn't believe how easy it was!
thanks, AOL.
here is a partial list (pinched from IMDb.com):

One-Eyed Man
Bum
Bum
Old Man
Mr. Ellis
Clownie
Uncle Willard
Hezekiah
Man With Newspapers
Alcoholic Man
Chairman
Old Man
Wino
Bum
Mr. Pechar
Bozo The Clown (!)

that's right kids. the man who portrayed the biggest, most loved non-fastfood clown of all time spent his life portraying bums, winos, alcoholics and Uncle Willard.
suddenly the future's not looking quite so bright for Morbidly Obese Herpes Lady.
hang in there babe. we'll be your eyes.
(we totally don't have to be her eyes. she can't even read this. NO ONE read this aloud to her.)

* -seriously, if you can show me a more convincing filth covered wino (in a film; not for real. i see enough of those) i'll buy you a meal of your choice. from Taco Bell's Big Value Menu.

mom fight

thursday.
on my way to work, passing the elementary school between my apartment and the Metro station, i heard a commotion.
and i knew it was a serious commotion, because i heard it through the plastic/pleather ear covering of my headphones. and not just through my headphones, but over the glorious din of Faith No More. a noisy commotion indeed.
so i looked to the schoolyard, half expecting to see a gaggle of kids involved in some kind of desperate five-minutes-to-bell-time snowball war.
but that's not what i saw at all.
instead i saw that which we only see on television screens and in our wildest most unhinged dreams.
a Mom Fight.
an honest-to-goodness headlockin' name callin' Mom Fight.
right there on the sidewalk, by the fence, down in a blanket of snow whiter and purer than the most preciously hand-washed bedsheets.
i think i actually yelled the words "Mom Fight!!" as i barreled across the street to snag a position ringside.
now, there's no way i could know for sure what volatile spark ignited this matronly inferno of asskickery, but whatever the trigger, it must've been dire.
these. young. moms. were. pissed.
it was scrappier than a bourbon filled Wolverine taking on a truckload of bourbon filled wolverines.
punching. kicking. grappling.
oh my god biting!
hair pulling!
amazing.
and let me tell you, the kids were loving it.
to them this was probably more exciting than a bourbon filled Wolverine dressed like a flying Santa.
soon a male teacher ran out of the school, taking a place next to me in the good seats. "what is this?! this is crazy!"
"i know!" i said. "why aren't we gambling?!"
i threw down a tenner on the redhead in the blue parka.
teachers cash was on the perm-headed brunette with the foul mouth.
kids were throwing down lunch money and Pokemon cards.
and the battle raged on.
i wrote a song about it.

------

neck grab
throat crunch
from the kitchen to the streets
with a bag lunch tit punch

mom vs mom
fighting for the reins
one mother grab another
toss a mother to the flames

two milfs
getting pounded
write a letter to the book club
cuz someone's getting grounded

mom fight
all night
every fucking thing
is motherfucking alright