October 16, 2019

That Really Bunches My Panties . . . by Brendon Marks

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Now don’t shoot the messenger, but I read somewhere that the average woman speaks 30,000 words a day. It was not clear how that compares to the average man, or even whether this is excessive.

Considering the fact that there are 86,400 seconds in a day, and most women sleep at least four hours; calculations show approximately one word every two seconds.

I believe those are old figures, I don’t know when they were gathered, but they must pre-date the cell phone by at least ten years.

If this is true, I think something should be done about it. Maybe we need a limit.

I have ideas on other subjects as well. For example, I think telephone voice-response systems are specifically designed to reward extremely stubborn people, but I have the answer—two-way speakerphones, the kind where you can stand across the room and talk and still be heard on the other end. You just dial the number, work your way through the menus until you get to the message that says, “Your expected wait time exceeds the life-expectancy of your car,” turn on the speaker, and go about your business. You can even go to the bathroom as long as you don’t hobble yourself too tightly. Professional sports are just ready for somebody with new ideas.

Maybe somebody should write to the head guy of the National Basketball Association and wise him up. Basically the only thing that’s changed since they first hung up a peach crate with the bottom knocked out is the three-point shot. When this game was invented, ten feet was a good height for the basket, because only one guy in thirty could even touch the rim. It’s time to jack that sucker up about five feet and change the game back to the way it was intended.

Football needs a change, too. Why are the kickers the leading scorers? They trot out onto the field for four seconds and make three points from anywhere within forty yards of the end zone. I say make the width of the goal posts indirectly proportional to how close they’re kicking from. Right now, the goal posts are twenty-three feet wide. I think it should be changed so if they’re kicking from inside the five-yard line, the goal posts are three feet apart, between five and ten, four feet wide, adding one foot for each five yards. This way, they’re back to the original width if the kick is from the opposite goal line. And while we’re at it, make them wear matching shoes. Don’t even get me started on baseball, but I will talk about racing. What’s with NASCAR, anyway? It used to be that the mechanic who could make his car go the fastest teamed with a driver who could keep it right side up won the race. What’s the sense of having such tight rules that nobody can do anything with the car? They might just as well car-pool. Why not just save the gas and put all the drivers in a bus? At each pit stop, play musical chairs. Numbers taped to the bottom of the seats determine final placements at the end of the race. And if you think race fans won’t come to watch, you’re underestimating their fanaticism.

My last idea has to do with a guy I heard about who was attending one of those marriage weekends and the question was, “What’s your wife’s favorite flower?” This guy answered, “Pillsbury All Purpose.” He should be publicly flogged, and that’s all I’ve got to say about that.

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