Ringo Was the Drummer

Each day, I find myself continually amazed by the ridiculous that is bestowed upon us by my grand ole' state of Pennsylvania and by myself. Even though I poke a little fun at Pennsylvaniaisms, I have also fallen victim to them myself. I am not exempt. We are super special people out here in Pennsylvania.

There is a chain of restaurants that spreads Pennsylvania, Eastern Ohio and Northern West Virginia. They are a Pennsylvanian owned and based private company. They are open twenty four hours a day. This is not excluding Christmas, Thanksgiving and Easter. However, they sent out a mass email today informing us they would be closing Sunday so that the employees could go home and watch the Superbowl. So what they're saying is that spending holidays with your family is not important, but watching football is? I'm so confused.

Directly after that, I had an epic fail of my own. One of my favorite websites is Very Demotivational. Some of these are knee-slap funny. On the same hand, some bite, but it's worth sifting through the ones that bite for the ones that are truly hysterical, such as one containing an article about The Beatles. It said something along the lines of, "George was the spirit, Lennon was the soul, Paul was the heart, and Ringo was the drummer." This was from a real newspaper article. The caption beneath it said "Ringo: He was the drummer." Anytime I find a lull in a conversation, I'm just going to say that Ringo was the drummer, and then laugh hysterically, while the other person just stares at me like I'm a loony toon. But I digress.

There was also a picture on there with a colored gentleman, who was passed out on the sidewalk, in a position that made him look as though he had overdosed, surrounded by a Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket, a McDonald's soda cup and watermelon. The last one confuses me, too. He was also well dressed, except for one thing, he was wearing white shoes.

This is the part where I feel I must explain to any new readers that I'm not racist. If you read this blog enough, you'll learn I'm the furthest thing from racist. I just have a habit of saying stupid things that therefore make me sound stupid, and then I share them, because once you get to know my sense of humor, you realize why I think it's funny when it's probably really not.

In fact, let me take a moment to tell you all about two of my favorite people in the world before we go and do something crazy, such as get back on subject or something. My one friend is a six foot something, intimidatingly built black man. He is terrified of horror movies and will not hesitate to literally lunge himself under the seat in a theater if a scene comes about that even looks as though it may be frightening. He will openly admit to this quark, too. He is friends with another one of my friends who is a five foot eight, at best, nerdy white guy with nerdy white guy glasses, whose weight probably rivals a pipe cleaner. When people try to push him around because of this, instead of getting angry, he looks at them and, with a very serious face, says "Is this because I'm black? It's because I'm black, isn't it?" This becomes especially effective when he does it while said black friend is standing next to him and commenting on how that has to be the reason. Then, they both calmly claim they are brothers and walk away. It's fantastic. You can see why these two are two of my favorite people.

So when I first saw this picture and thought the white shoes on the man were actually a cast on his leg, I thought this was totally normal. When my mom looked at me as if I had unicorns growing out of my ears, I explained to her that, since the man was black and wearing all dark clothing, I assumed he'd wear shoes to match so that they didn't stand out. I know now that I don't have a leg to stand on here, and am apparently a terrible, terrible person. In my defense, my black friend never wears white shoes because he thinks they stand out too much, so take that, accidental racial profiling! Take that.

Just a little while ago, my mom was flipping through the television for something to watch. She was upset that Billy the Exterminator wasn't on, and joked that his brother was hot. God, I hope she was joking. Anyway, she finds this show that I take it was on Discover or something to that effect. It was a documentary. It sounded strange, and just as I was about to inquire about it, she started telling the television off. Yes, telling the television off. Apparently it was a show chock full of historians trying to prove that aliens actually wrote the Bible in an attempt to take over humanity. She thought they were kidding in the description, so she turned it on to see. They were not. They were all very, very serious about this.

If you believe that aliens wrote the Bible, more power to you, but I'm not about to break out my tinfoil hats just yet. Not that all alien believers wear tinfoil hats. I mean, I believe there's life on other planets; just a personal opinion and all, and I don't wear tinfoil hats. They never match my outfit. And there I go accidentally offending an entire group of people's beliefs again.