The Blog is Back!

This Blog was conceived earlier this year, far before the Rude Lightning website was up and striking; that is why the last entry was made in May. After finishing other priorities and overcoming a nasty bout of laziness, the Rude Lightning Blog is back! Feel free to look back on the entries of the past and reminisce on those pop culture events, and continued to check back for brand new, E. coli-free entries.

I get 500 bucks per kid?! Sweet!

As this is my last week of college before graduation, it is only right to look back on what got me here...the beloved board game "LIFE". What I thought was just a mild-mannered children's game was a guide to life in disguise. Honestly, I shouldn't have been that surprised. If "Risk" taught the risks of declaring war on family members, and "Chutes and Ladders" taught the perils of climbing the corporate ladder, then of course LIFE would teach how to retire as a millionaire.

I went to college because you get more money and more choices when you have to choose a career card, but now that that's over with, I must travel over a mountain, maybe win the lottery along the way, pick up a pink peg, and then I'm off at a pace no greater than ten spaces at a time. Through past mistakes, it would be wise to pick up both kinds of insurance, and not get too crazy with the stock market. Hopefully, I'll pick up a few kids. Maybe even twins; their double the money. Once the minivan is full, it's over the white bridge where all the effort and time will decide if I'll be living the victorious life as a millionaire or spending my remaining years thinking about where it all went wrong in the retirement home. Of course I hope for the mansion. No one wants to lose, but I must remember that this game is not about finishing first, and in the end, it all comes down to the luck of the dice.

(I know LIFE doesn't use dice, but it sounded better, didn't it?)

The Old Woman in the 21st Century

There was an old woman who lived in a trailer,
She had so many children due to an amorous sailor.
She didn’t have a job, which never meant despair.
They were able to survive on her welfare.

Another message from GOD

I’ve been hearing a lot of this, ‘Which came first, the chicken or the egg?’ and to be perfectly honest, the answer is neither. Before the chicken, or the egg, I tried “The Nugget.” The Nugget was a wad of bones, organs, and flesh that would expand and grow into a chick. When the chick became a chicken, she would squat down and squirt out another Nugget, which would evolve into another chick. I got the idea from seeing that “Gremlins” movie. Gotta love that Phoebe Cates. Phew…Sorry—back to the Nugget. I thought it was a good first try, but the development took too long and, frankly, was a bit too disgusting for my taste. I eventually settled on chickens coming from eggs, and I think it was the right decision. I was happy to get the opportunity to use the Nugget concept, again; though I had to tweak it slightly and have it come with a variety of dipping sauces. “Spicy Barbeque” is my favorite.

Just a thought.

Poetry is like abstract art.
Sometimes it's hard to see why it's any good.

Terrorists or snakes, which would you choose?

There are two huge airplane movies coming out this year. One is "United 93" -- the true story of the one plane that fought back during the 9/11 tragedy -- and the other is "Snakes on a Plane" -- the true depiction of what it would be like to be on a plane with a bunch of snakes. Personally, I am more interested in the one about snakes taking over a plane than terrorists, not because I don't think they are the bigger threat, but because I am curious as to how a situation like that would be handled. You can't just lift your legs off the floor and continue eating your complimentary nuts. These snakes are coming out of everywhere. Want to check the overhead compartment. Look out, there's a bunch of snakes! Want to get your oxygen mask. Oh no, more snakes! They’re everywhere, and there are all kinds too. Big ones, small ones, but all are deadly, because if you're going to go through the trouble of smuggling aboard a barrel of snakes, you don't want them being garden snakes.

Terrorism is bad; I'm reminded of it everyday, because, apparently, if I go without a daily reminder, I'll think it's good again, and then the terrorists will win. All kinds of measures have been taken to ride the planes of terror. Take out your metallic objects. Take off your shoes. Turn and cough. But snakes! What are we doing to prevent snakes from getting on a plane! My god, there is no protection against them. Their not metallic, and they can easily be pawned off as other things if their stashed in someone's pants. We are leaving ourselves completely vulnerable, and I doubt that there are any solutions once in flight. This movie, which also has Samuel L. Jackson (an added plus), will make the country aware of this potential crisis and implement the necessary safety requirements, because right now, I am completely clueless as to what to do in a snake-related emergency. I would probably use my seat as a floatation device and -- Oh no! More snakes!

A message from GOD

Sometimes things just happen, people. Calm down. I don't know how many times in a day a bird defecates on a windshield, and I get all this, 'Is this a sign? What did I do wrong? Why did this happen to me?' Well I’ll tell you why it happened to you. A bird ate too much and relived himself in the sky, which was what your car was parked underneath. Every other flying creature does it -- even planes do it -- and you’d do it too if I gave you wings. I'm not just up here moving chess pieces around, trying to make your life miserable for my own amusement. Not all the time, at least. Can't things happen on accident, anymore? Does everything have to be connected to some spiritual/universal plan? Some things are without meaning or purpose. Sure, this comes easy with reality TV, but a little poo on your Honda and some how I'm responsible. I have other things to do. I don't have time to set up every little thing that happens down there.

Now when a bird poops on your shoulder, that's all me.