Shyzer.com

NOTE: I recently found an old article I wrote for Circle of Jerks almost two years ago. It’s a bit mean, but then again it was for a site where the domain name proudly proclaims the authors are Jerks I found it funny, I remember it being pretty fun, if not a change in pace, to write and since it’s no longer on-line over on Stan’s site (slacker!), I thought I’d repost it here for any of you who missed it the first time around. Enjoy.

It would be great to say that I waited to write this post until the eve of the release of Star Wars III. It would also be great to say that I then decided to wait until the movie had been out for a week or two before writing this post. Alas, the truth is that Stan mentioned I should write something on this topic, so I decided to pull an Angela and ignore my responsibilities for at least three weeks. In fact, Stan finally got to the point where he no longer expected me to upload this story, so he took me off the “In The Works” list. That’s procrastination at its finest, my friends.

I’ve always viewed myself as a conveyor of information. Any time I’ve ever found something cool or interesting, I like to pass it along to others in an effort to spread around the Great Cup ‘O Knowledge. This is not one of those occasions.

By now, though, you should be saying to yourself, “Goob, just what in the hell are you talking about?” Glad you asked. With the latest release of a Star Wars movie, we’ve all been reminded of one of the most glaring stains on human civilization: the existence of Star Wars nerds, fans, and freaks alike. They come out in droves, shamelessly supporting their idiotic support for a series of movies that they claim “inspire” them to get out of bed every morning. They line up for hours, nay, days before the release of the movie, dressed in full regalia, just so that they can say they saw the first showing in their hometown of Crap Town, USA. They beam as news reporters interview them for their human interest stories on the 6 o’clock news, unwitting to the fact that their interviews remind each and every one of us normal people how lucky we are not to be one of them.

And with the influx of the Internet into our everyday lives, us Normal people are now bombarded with Their websites. You know the types. The ones that carry on twenty page conversations over why Han Solo should have never been able to use a lightsaber in Episode 5. The ones that try to follow Princess Amidala’s wardrobe in an effort to see what kind of “mood” she’s in throughout the movies. Or the ones that try and explain just how a lightsaber works.

I wish I was making this up. However, in the interest of science and making fun of Star Wars Nerds throughout the world, I ventured through the above site and meticulously made fun of it each step of the way. Join me, if you will, in doing the same.

The opening page contains the following introduction: “Chances are that you have seen a lightsaber at one time or another, whether on the evening news or down at the local cantina.” Chances also are that whoever wrote that is still living in his or her – ok, let’s be real here, his – parent’s basement with George Lucas posters on the wall. I spend many a hours at the local cantina and I have seen a drunk 400 pound man eat an entire jar of pickled eggs, a drunk girl make out with four guys at once in the back alley, and this one guy who could swallow a shot glass and regurgitate it with the liquid still in it! Yet I have never seen a lightsaber. Not once.

Buried at the bottom of page 2 is the following: “Lightsabers are only a figment of George Lucas’ imagination, of course. This is an entirely fictional article, based on information in Star Wars movies and books.”

You don’t say! Really!? Nooooooo. I’m shocked, honestly, I am. You mean to tell me they’re not real?! You mean to tell me that hundreds and thousands of thousands of people worldwide devote their time, energy, and lives to studying and writing Internet How Stuff Works Guides about a fictitious movie? I’m flabbergasted. Now if only these people would do the same in realizing that they are wasting their lives and do something productive! I’m sure there are some homeless people down the street that could use some food. Why don’t you people go use The Force and feed them? Or if you want a bigger challenge, I think the continent of Africa could even use some food. Put down that twentieth Twinkie you’re about to eat and airmail it to Rwanda, you loser!

On page three, we are treated to the following image:

Aside from the fact that it looks like the chick is about to be mugged in broad daylight by a Mexican biker, my favorite part of the photo has to his weapon of choice. A tire iron? How does that lady know he was about to mug her? He could have been offering to fix her flat. Stupid whore. Somebody take that fictional lightsaber away from her and banish her from ever appearing on the Internet again. While you do that, I’m gonna go find that Mexican biker because my left rear tire looks a little low on air.

I’m not ever going to talk about the 4th page, which has a detailed picture of the “inner workings” of a lightsaber. I’ll just leave it at this. Somebody, somewhere, actually took the time to not only learn how this made up product “works,” but they also created a photoshop picture of it to share with others. Somebody get this man a Life.

Page 5 greets us with a collection of high tech sounding phrases to make us Normal people feel overwhelmed. Diatium power cells, power vortex rings, crystal energy chambers, arc waves, activation matrixes, virgins who will never be laid, etc. Okay, so maybe I made up that last one, but it should be somewhere on that page, describing those who actually believe in this shit.

Later in the article, I found myself reading that, “A lightsaber completely blows away a can of pepper spray as a deterrent in muggings or robberies.” Really? Because trust me, the next time I go to rob somebody and they pull out a lightsaber to protect them, I’m going to swat away their little PlaySkool toy and get on with my thievery and evilness. A blast of pepper spray might actually put a halt to me trying to steal somebody’s valuables, but a glow-in-the-dark plastic sword is going to only stop me if I fall on the floor laughing at the person.

And humor me here, if you will. Take a look at this picture:

Does this not look exactly like our favorite Mexican Christ Puncher’s member?! This only leads me to believe that he not only felt threatened enough by our overzealous bitch in the first photo to not change her tire, but that he used his tire iron to beat her and steal her lightsaber. Thankfully, he’s putting it to good use trimming hedges and not attacking other would be Good Samaritans, but it makes me wonder. If these lightsabers are so powerful, how come it couldn’t beat an illegal immigrant with a freaking tire iron? Seriously, these Star Wars nerds will spend years pointing out continuity errors in movies, but won’t even take the time to proof read one of their lame articles.

Thankfully, the last page has finally arrived. On it are more “uses” for a lightsaber, but sadly, all I could focus on were the continuity errors they all contained, especially the one where no shadow was displayed on the back wall while the guy heats up his coffee. Oh no – I’ve already started to become one of Them. First off I’m bitching about a poor photoshop job of a lightsaber and the next minute I’ll find myself whining over how Obi-wan Kenobi’s outfit changed from one scene to another in the latest movie. Thankfully, I caught myself in time and can now go back to beating up Star Wars Fans and stealing their lunch money.

They still believe The Force can protect them when in reality, the force from my fist ensures that I’ll be eating this afternoon. On second thought, let’s keep these morons around.

My mom needs to figure out which airline is offering the following job position and then seriously consider switching over to them

Overheard today while standing in line at the local gas station:

(All words spoken in a heavy, thick drawl.)

Customer #1: Man, I cain’t believe tha’ kids didn’t have school terday. I’s looking forward ter gettin’ ‘em outter tha house ‘gain!
Customer #2: I know whatcha mean! What’s even worse is I had no ideer everythang was closed ’til I got to the post office and saw nobaudy there. I wasted 30 minutes today just because Ford died!
Customer #1: It makes nor sense to me. I know Ford is ‘portant an all, but what makes him and his comp’nay so special? I don’t even see how peoples drive anythang other than a Chevy.
Customer #2: Oh, they’ll find any excuse to not have ter work, them lazy people in Washin’ton. It don’t matter who died. President of Ford. King of Canada. Hell, it don’t matter! They’ll just give ‘em some bullshit medal an’ close everythang for the day.

Both customers quickly turn around to the sound of crashing glass rippling through the building as Goob bashes his head into the front pane in an effort to forget the stupidity he just overheard.

Don’t ever let it be said that I don’t care about Shyzer. Just as I was leaving Spartanburg, I learned that Shyzer had been knocked out. I thought for a minute who could help (and who I could trust with all my different passwords) and I finally realized that my little brother Clay was best suited for the job. After locating him at one of his friend’s house, he dropped everything he was doing and came home just to help me. Now that’s True Love. Needless to say, things are back up and running here at Kramerica Industries Shyzer.

As most of you already know, I’m heading to Australia soon to study for a few months. As exciting as this is, it does bring with it certain unwelcome pains in the ass, such as hunting for a new roommate to take over my apartment lease halfway through the school year. The search started in early November and while there was been a few Maybes here and there, nothing real substantial has come to fruition yet.

About a week ago, I received a call from Mike who inquired about the room. He was a recent college grad who had just been accepted into USC’s Graduate program and was looking for a place to stay next semester. I was in the process of giving him all the details when he cut me off and said he’d take it. I was flabbergasted and immediately told him I’d start letting everybody know the place was no longer available. He asked if he could drop by and sign the papers the following Tuesday and we agreed to talk around noon that day so I could give him directions. I couldn’t tell which one of us was more excited. Him for having found such a “sweet-ass, bitchin’” location or me for finally having found a warm, living body to take this $375 rent off my hands every month, including January!

Tuesday rolled around and he called just as scheduled. The conversation went something like this:

Mike: Hey dude, what’s up? I’m leaving my place now, so let me go ahead and like get some directions so that I can come check out this awesome digs of yours!
Goob: Aight, well how do you normally come into town?
Mike: Uh, like from US 20 South.
Goob: US 20 South? Where the hell is that? Okay, well then how do you normally get to I20 or I26?
Mike: Where? I’ve never heard of those. I’ve got to admit I’m new to that area, so we might have to go a little more general here.
Goob: (Confused at this point since Columbia pretty much only has I20 and I26). You’re new to the area? I thought you said you’ve been into town before. You did visit USC at least once before you agreed to go to Grad School here, right? How did you get into Columbia then?
Mike: What the hell are you talking about, dude? I’ve never been to Columbia.
Goob: Oh for the love of God. Okay, what is the nearest heavily populated city you live by? Atlanta? Charlotte? What the hell state are you coming from?!
Mike: Dude, I live in San Francisco.
Goob: (It’s finally dawned on me.) Ahhhh. Okay, well if you still want this apartment, the commute to your USC is gonna be about 5 days or so, depending on how fast you can drive.
Mike: What?!
Goob: I go to the University of South Carolina, you moron. I take it you are going to the University of Southern California? Did you not notice that my craigslist ad was placed under Charlotte? And did you not read the University of South Carolina I have in parenthesis next to USC in my ad?
Mike: Oh, you are shitting me! Dude, I was like so stoked to find a place so cheap right next to campus man! I just figured you screwed up and placed the ad under Charlotte instead of Los Angeles. Damn it, now I have no fucking place to live!
Goob: Yes, because Charlotte and Los Angeles are so commonly confused. Smooth move bud. Good luck finding a place.

And they claim to be the smarter USC.

I started off typing this post with the phrase “I’m not one to judge.” I wrote a paragraph or so and then went back to edit what I had just typed when I realized I hated that first sentence, especially for this topic. There is no way I cannot judge, no way I cannot be absolutely stunned and sickened at the same time, no way I cannot sit and wonder who in the hell allowed their child to grow up without basic knowledge of the world.

A week or so ago, Tommy asked me to come listen to something that I would find hilarious. I was just on my way to climbing in bed for the night, so I made him promise me it was worth it before I got my lazy ass up. He guaranteed me that I would find it worthy, so I shuffled my way into his room. He said something into his cell phone and then jammed it up to my ear.

I soon figured out it was one of his girlfriends speaking and that she was attempting to name all the continents. The following is an exact recreation of the words that came out of her mouth:

Okay….um….North America and South America….Russia!!….um….Antarctica….Gosh, I can’t think of the other ones. Oh, oh! Japan, China, and Asia!!

I would like to say that that was the worst. But no. When Tommy pulled the phone back and told her that she missed a few, she quickly tried to redeem herself by naming the 8th continent of Egypt.

I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t. No child in the 10th grade should think there is eight continents, much less name four of them wrong! How does a student with that lack of knowledge pass the 2nd grade much less the 9th grade?! Did her parents never buy her a frickin globe when she was a kid? Has she never looked at that map in the front cover of every History Textbook?! Has she never wondered why black people are refered to as African-Americans?

I just couldn’t keep it in. I had to say something. Where did she think World War I and II took place? Where did the majority of those people we called slaves come from? Ever heard of the land down under? In 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue…..FROM RUSSIA?!

Tommy tried to give her a few helpful hints to remember the difference between countries and continents. After the somewhat success of that, he tried to teach her the three continents she missed by starting off with the story of our family trip to Australia a few years ago.

She asked how long the drive was.

I swear to God.