High Strung

Again.

Every time.

It--it's really amazing, you know?

No matter how little milk you put on your cereal,

there's always too much left at the end.

I mean, you would think it would be possible to judge it right.

You know, maybe put in just the right amount of milk

so it all comes out even?

But no. Th--there's always too much.

It's just...

Shit! So, what?

You end up havin to pour in more cereal that you probably don't even want,

Or--or having to pick up the bowl and slurp it!

Like you're some kind of a dog!

There's no reprieve! It's every time!

It just digs, and digs, and digs,

until you just can't take it anymore...!

I wish I were dead!

Ugh!

I don't believe it! I'm gonna die!

I don't need this, you know.

Flies are the filthiest creatures on the planet.

The number one carriers of disease.

And they're pathetically stupid. The stupidest of all bugs.

I mean... You've seen 'em, right?

They--they sit around cleaning their hands all the time,

you know, like it matters?

So, I go in my backyard.

There's a piece of dog crap on the ground.

A piece of dog crap. Fly sitting on it, cleaning his hands.

How incredibly stupid would you have to be?

"What is this shit on here?"

"It's there again. What is this shit?"

They're dirty, disgusting creatures

that should be gathered up and exterminated.

And I'm not that interested in that whole food chain thing.

"Pollinisation" or whatever the hell it is.

I'd gladly give up an occasional honeydew

if it meant being forever rid of those useless, pathetic, vile, horrible,

disease riddled, wretched little flying devil bugs!

Oh, great.

I don't even know why I read this, you know.

Everything in it just makes you sick.

Yesterday, I read about this guy that killed his sister-in-law,

and then his brother.

Right, so he goe's to trial. He is found innocent

by reason of insanity, and gets out in four years.

Four years!

You know what I think they should do?

Let's say somebody kills Amy Lou Rogers.

I think they should lock him in his cell;

and when they bury Amy Lou,

they should put the key to the cell in her hand.

That way, when a few years goes by,

and the guy starts whining: "Hey, when are you gonna let me out?"

"I've been in here a really long time."

"When do I get out?"

You just go: "Hey, don't sweat it, pal."

"As soon as Amy Lou comes back to life,

digs her way out, and waltzes in here with the key,

you're walking!"

"24 hours tops, you're on the streets!"

But you know what really gets me mad?

I bought these natural watermelon popsicles.

On the box, It said: "100% natural, 100% watermelon."

So I thought: "Hey, I love watermelon."

"I love popsicles."

"This should be the perfect thing for me."

So I take a bite.

And I notice there's something in my mouth.

Something small and hard.

So I spit it out... It was a seed.

A seed!

They actually put watermelon seeds in the popsicles!

What is the possible marketing strategy here?

"Yes! Watermelon popsicles!"

"With all the annoyance of real watermelon!"

I mean, what's next?

Banana flavored popsicles with skin?

Coconut popsicles with a thick, though husk?

It makes me sick! How do they expect me to eat this!

What do they take me for? It is totally unacceptable!

And don't expect me to go along with it, like:

"Oh, no problem! Seeds in the popsicles? That's great!"

"I love that..." Uuuugh!

I don't know... I didn't ask for this, you know.

I didn't... I didn't ask to be born.

Sometimes I just wanna... I just wanna shut everything out.

Just relax.

What the...?

I can... I can relax later or something.

Yeah. I'm no--I'm not tired.

I should be working.

Yeah. Get some work done.

I u--I used to like my job, you know.

I write children's books.

Everything was going great. You know, I work my own hours.

Something I like. Good pay.

Boss was really tolerable.

- Thane, how are you? - I'm good.

I just read your latest submission.

Now, it's a little rough, and we might have to tone it down a bit.

But I like the way you think, Thane.

You are very creative. Very different.

I like that.

Thanks, Marvin. I'll rework it.

You know... you should cheer up a little bit, Thane.

You're a bright kid. You got a lot going for you.

Try smiling a little.

Smiling's never really been one of my strong points.

Well, give it a try. It's good for business.

You'd be surprised how many business deals are made on personality alone.

Then he gets married.

He marries this...

...woman...

...who is, like, half his age, which I have no problem with,

but she's, like, this horrible person.

She's inhuman. Melanie.

Me-la-nie.

- Marvin! - Princess!

You have to get going, darling. You have a very big lunch meeting.

Oh, uh... Thane, I'd like you to meet my wife.

- This is Melanie. - Oh, darling.

Please, let's not get into this. We barely have enough time as it is.

- Well, I guess you're right. - Of course I am.

Now let's just get you to lunch,

and you let me handle everything here at the office.

- I don't like him. - Now she makes all the decisions,

which wouldn't be so bad if someone else relayed them,

but you have to listen to her speak.

She's totally self-indulgent.

She could listen to her own voice for hours.

Not only do I not have a clue as to what my boss sees in her,

but I would love to know how the earth could just keep from opening up

and sucking her into some deep, dark, multidimensional void!

"You have to make your dead line,

or we won't be able to get the copy in on time."

She's always giving orders that don't matter.

Or she'll go off one some huge, pathetic, condescending,

inaccurate lecture on the meaning of life.

"Some people are just less capable than others."

"People depending on their upbringing and nationality,

have different ability levels, and have to be put into their correct category."

Nightmare! It's like this incredibly articulate way of saying:

"I'm hopelessly prejudiced. Sorry."

But the horror of all of this,

is you can't say anything, because it's the boss' wife.

Right? So--so you just sit there and nod so you don't lose your job,

and you hear yourself saying things, like:

"Yeah... I guess."

Then you feel like the most spineless loser on the planet,

because you've sacrificed your self-worth,

and everything you value and believe in,

because it might hurt you financially if you speak up.

I-i-it's amazing what some people are capable of.

Great. It's not even 10 o'clock yet.

Hey, dorkhead! Turn it down!

This guy's a perpetual thorn in my side.

He plays music, if that's what it is,

all day, at a volume that any amphitheater would be envious of.

He never hears me yell, which is no surprise.

I'm sure there's blood constantly spewing from his ears.

There he goes. There he goes.

Now, you tell me... you tell me, just...

What the hell is that?

I mean... I mean, what is he doing, some sort of gigantic boot dance?

I mean, what is that?

I can't even remotely imagine just what in the hell...!

Oh my gosh. I hope he didn't trip.

And hit his temple on the power button of the stereo.

Accidentally turning it off, and knocking himself into a permanent coma.

That would be terrible. What would I do?

I guess I should wait a couple of weeks and see if something starts to smell.

- Yeah. - Tonight. At 8 o'clock.

What?

What does that mean?

What the hell is that? 8 o'clock?

It's just some--some jerk or something...

You know it used to be peaceful around here.

The dog. I forgot to bring in the dog.

Sorry about that. This is my dog, Pete.

Please, don't think I'm crazy. I'm not.

It's just that I don't believe in real pets.

Sure, I know people love them. They're cute, they're cuddly.

It's just that I have a hard time imagining giving a place in my life

to some beast, that if worse came to worse, would turn on me.

Because, that's the reality of it, whether you want to admit it or not.

They're animals.

And if there was suddenly a food shortage,

and the opportunity arose, your precious little Fifi

wouldn't think twice about putting you on the old smorgasbord list.

People just believe what they wanna believe.

Remember when that plane crashed in the snow,

and some of the people survived?

But they didn't get rescued for a really long time

and they actually had to eat the other passengers to stay alive?

I mean, that is a big, moral decision.

If your life depended on it, do you think you could do it?

I don't know, I've thought about it a lot.

I figure they didn't do anything wrong.