Meatwad, Jazz, & JJ
Okay, I'm having a mild panic attack. My son is in the next room watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force and my wife is listening to jazz in the kitchen. It's creating this weird cacophony of sound similar to having an entire carnival lodged in my head. I still don't understand ATHF. It's a cartoon about the hijinks of a meatball, a milkshake, and an order of fries. No really, I'm serious. They have the usual cast of protagonists and their lives are seemingly rich and full as our own, but they are a meatball, a milkshake, and an order of fries. I don't get their humor either. It's one of my son's favorite cartoons, though. I just don't get it. This cartoon could be shown in another language and I wouldn't understand the humor any less.

I understand the meatball (actually they call him a meatwad) is the child-like, innocent character that speaks with an urban-ish speech impediment, the milkshake is the cynical protagonist, and the order of fries is the older, wiser "glue" that holds the whole cast together. I just don't understand anything past that point. The humor to me is just odd, the artwork is pure crap, and the storylines are non-existent. And my son loves it. Like owns the entire series on DVD, loves it. I have to leave the room when he turns it on. It's like they threw old Hanna-Barbera cartoons into a hat and pulled out ATHF.

I think more than anything, it disturbs me to my core. I think because it shows that my time is over. Humor has passed me by and this is the New Humor. You're too old, old man. Go watch your Bugs Bunny and Three Stooges re-runs and sit quietly in the corner. Fine, I will.

I found out the microwave screws with my wireless internet. A lot. And the microwave's been working hard today for some reason. My mom lives with us now. She must warm up her coffee every ten minutes. Just drink the damn thing already and be done with it woman!

Ooh, gross, my ham sandwich just dropped hot, ham juice onto shirt. Hm, I broke my second rule: don't eat food over your shirt. This reminds me of my first rule and a dear friend that I worked with awhile back, who will remain nameless...oh screw it, his name is JJ. JJ had the uncanny ability to open any container and spill at least part of it's contents onto his crotch. I always found myself angry in a very parental sense any...every time this happened. I made a Life Rule to help him with the problem, because he always seemed to be wearing something nice when he'd spill things on his crotch. The rule required that he had to open the container away from his crotch. Simple rule? Yes. Unfortunately, I had to remind him of this every time we ate together. I don't know if he still does this, but I don't see why he would ever stop. It seemed to be some innate, self-destructive quality. He didn't drink, smoke, or cuss, so I guess opening the occasional fruit cup or can of soda over his crotch was his way of rebelling against conformity.