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10:41 a.m. - March 27, 2007
It's A Conspiracy
Itís all a conspiracy, I say.

All of it!

Itís a conspiracy that yummy foods like queso dip, Girl Scout Cookies, and pepperoni pizza from Arniís make you a pudgy boy.

Itís a conspiracy that I whacked my elbow on something, so I have a bone bruise on it, and I donít remember when I whacked it. I think I slammed it against my night stand when I was sleeping, but I donít remember. Anyway, someone caused that, Iím sure.

Totally, someone has made it so that an email from a coach went into my spam filter and I had no idea he responded to my query. Theyíre out to get me.

My performance in my NCAA pool? Totally a conspiracy against me. Someone totally rigged it so that Creighton and Winthrop would lose in the first round, and that Wisconsin would lose to UNLV. Someone also kept the lid on the basket for North Carolina, and caused Kansas to play poorly down the stretch. It wasnít their fault Ė not at all Ė it was the MAN out to get me.

The man is also keeping me down by not allowing URGH! A Music War and The Decline Of The Western Civilization (the punk rock one) on DVD, legitimately, so if I want to purchase them I have to do it via the black market internet. (More on URGH! later in the week.) The man, with his contract law, is against me.

My home computer is in a conspiracy against me, because every time I have to restart it itís slow for about five days, for some reason.

Superchunk has been in a life long conspiracy against me, because theyíve never played in Indianapolis since I was cognizant of their existence.

My pen just ran out of ink. Itís totally against me.

In 1990, there was this cute girl that was a touch-key professional at Target. I never asked her out, and the forces were against me doing so as they held my tongue in its mouth. Same with the cute assistant manager at Wendyís during that time.

Itís just another example of the man keeping someone down.

I contend that Alex Gonzalez, the shortstop was in cahoots with someone against me personally, and no one else, when he flubbed that double play ball in the eighth inning of game six of the 2003 National League Championship Series, thus extending the inning for Florida, and we all know what happened there.

The man doesnít want to have me see the Cubs win. Holy cow.

The designated hitter is a conspiracy against me!

Internet columnist Bill Simmons on ESPN.com is also part of the world-wide plot. Why? Because everything he says I disagree with, and heís popular. Yes, mostly with mouth-breathers who canít admit that women can play basketball well, and that the movie Rounders is a pinnacle of cinema, while Office Space isnít that great, but still Ė I get 100 or so unique visits a day Ė and he gets more.

It doesnít matter that heís on ESPN and Iím on Diaryland and MySpace. The Ďnet is out to get me. Thatís right Ė theyíre even blocking people from making comments. It has to be that reason. Heh.

Axl Rose is out to get me. For sure. He said so. Oh, wait, heís singing about people being out to get him on that first Guns ĎNí Roses album. Well, still, heís against me because he refuses to release Chinese Democracy, basically because I didnít like anything past their debut album.

MyBacon is out to get me. Itís out to get everyone. Beware. Beware.

I have just had a guest post at The Juice Blog, and it would have been up earlier had Scott Long, the comedian and purveyor of the site, recognized that I sent him the email. Itís not Scottís fault Ė the MAN made him not recognize my email name and address. You see?

The forces have aligned against me because the face plate of my cell phone has come off, exposing the display to the elements. Nokia did this on purpose so I would have to consider buying a new cell phone, and Cingular is in cahoots because to get a good price I have to extend my contract again. Right now Liz and I are indentured to Cingular until 2112, I believe.

When my turntable broke, it was a conspiracy. Itís also a conspiracy that they havenít released a lot of albums I want from the 80s on CD or on iTunes. The big media is out to get me because theyíre denying me the right to hear classic Swimming Pool Qís and Rainmakers records.

I forgot my parentís wedding anniversary this year, and it wasnít my fault. Someone tapped into my brain and erased that date, and also caused Liz to miss it when she transferred important dates into her new Franklin last year.

People that donít check Snopes before sending out forwarded emails are totally against me. They want to see my blood boil, donít they, and test how good my Lipitor does.

Did I say MyBacon was out to get me? Itís true.

The following politicians are in a conspiracy against me: Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, Tom DeLay, Dennis Hastert, Mitch McConnell, Ted Kennedy, Richard Lugar, Mitch Daniels, Sam Brownback, Mike Huckabee, John Kerry, John McCain, Christopher Dodd, Joe Biden, Harry Reid, Joe Lieberman, Nancy Pelosi, Elizabeth Dole, Tom Tancredo, Richard Daley, Henry Waxman, John Boehner, Dana Rohrabacher, James Sensenbrenner, and Mike Pence.

Indiana Congressman Dan Burton thinks everyone is against HIM, so heís not against me even though I am in a conspiracy against him. You see, I planted that thought in his noggin to shoot some fruit in his backyard to prove Vince Foster was murdered.

Karl Rove has plotted against me, but heís plotted against everyone. Heís even plotted against himself.

All of those tabloid magazines are against me, because I canít avoid them at the grocery checkout. They make me want to care about Britney, Angelina, and TomKat, when all I want to do is care about the world and national events, and music, and books, and first and foremost my family and friends Ė oh, and my job Ė and sports.

PBS and NPR have to fight and scrap for funding because of the forces aligned against me.

Iím against me because I canít purge things out of my head.

Of course, you know the cats are working against me. Theyíre working against us all.

I know that Dale Gribble isnít a real person, but still, heís working against me Ė him and his paranoid views and his extermination business.

You see, Iím not crazy.

But theyíre going to drive me crazy.

So, if I wake up tomorrow and Iím a monstrous verminous bug, donít blame me.

Blame Kafka, because itís his fault for writing Metamorphosis in the first place, and then everyone else listed above, because itís THEIR fault.

Damnit!

 

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