I know you all have been waiting for me to chime in on the current pig flu pandemic.

“When is Kev going to tell us what to do,” you’ve likely all been wondering. Your patience will be rewarded, my friends. Much like I did when the SARS pandemic hit a few years ago, I am going shed some light on the situation.

What’s that? I never blogged about SARS?

Oh.

Well, in that case I’m just going to write some random thoughts I’ve had lately about the pig flu.

If these are insightful and helpful, it’s totally by accident.

…

As child, I never understood why Charlotte in Charlotte’s Web died. But now I know. Wilbur gave her pig flu.

Those weren’t tears of sadness Wilbur was shedding.

They were tears of guilt!

…

Obama recently announced that people should not be alarmed by the pig flu pandemic. Looking beyond the fact I become alarmed whenever anything comes out of Obama’s mouth, hasn’t the man learned that every time he speaks on a topic, people dissect his words and overreact?

Heck, every time the man comments on the stock market, positively or negatively, people panic and the market goes down. If I somehow knew ahead of time when he was going to comment on the economy to reporters, I could make a fortune.

Anyway, by him saying there is no reason to be alarmed, a good chunk of the country is now alarmed. That’s just how it works.

Way to go, Obama. Maybe next time you can give a quote telling small children there is no reason to be alarmed by the monsters living under their beds.

If there is no reason to be alarmed, just shut up about it!

…

Even though you can’t get the pig flu by eating pork, I bet somewhere in the world there is a Jewish boy around the age of 12 who is sweating bullets because of the BLT sandwich he ate last weekend at his friend Johnny’s house.

…

I have no scientific basis for this theory, but if I come down with the pig flu I am going to rub kosher salt all over my skin.

…

I don’t understand why all of these U.S. citizens are visiting Mexico in the first place. Don’t they realize we have a New Mexico right here in the good ol’ USA?

I bet these are the same people who keep going to the old mall in town even after a new one opens.

…

I’m glad karma isn’t real. Otherwise, I so would be getting pig flu because of this blog post.

Are any of you worried about this pig flu pandemic? Do you think it will be contained pretty soon, or that the worst is yet to come?

I know, I know. I haven’t blogged in a while. Don’t worry, I’m still alive. I’ve just been really busy. Plus, I’ve had writer’s block. When you combine busy and writer’s block, you know what you get? You get no blog updates from Kev.

In other words, you get sadness.

Still, I want to write something for the handful of you out there to read. Below are two posts I wrote at my old blog back in the day. They’ve never been published on SKOS, so they are going to be brand new to most of you.

The first one is a shorty but (hopefully) goody about a strange guy I met at the gym. After that is one of the very few surveys/memes I’ve taken in my lifetime. When you see my silly answers, you’ll understand why I rarely bother.

This first post was written on June 15, 2005.

I’ve heard it argued that Wal-Mart is the place to go to watch how people act, if you’re so inclined (if you go at 2 am you will supposedly get quite a show in the absurd). Personally, I always thought the mall was the place to go for such a thing. It struck me today that the gym is a good place, too.

Watching how people choose to dress while at the gym is a form of
entertainment in itself. At what age are men required to start wearing their socks high with shorts? Why do some men tuck in their shirts at the gym? Just seems odd.

The conversations are interesting, too. Today, a guy who had been running on the treadmill for almost an hour began recruiting those of us around him to go drinking tonight. For one thing, who goes out drinking on a Wednesday? Secondly, who asks complete strangers — both male and female — to go out drinking?

Coincidentally, this guy was also responsible for the most oddly amusing conversation I heard today. On one of the televisions, a Kylie Minogue music video was playing (he thought it was Mariah Carey, but I guess that doesn’t really matter). The guy went on, and on, and on, and on about how much he liked the video. I should point out his admiration had absolutely nothing to do with the music. When another music video with a female of note appeared on the tv, the guy would start up again. Keep in mind, he was not talking to anyone specifically. He was just talking for the sake of
talking.

In some bar tonight, there is a drunk guy sitting alone and talking to no one in particular about Mariah Carey. I can only assume he’ll go to Wal-Mart afterward.

And here is a survey I did back on August 9, 2006. If any of you are bored, feel free to leave your own answers in the comment section.

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4.

“And that, dear readers, is why I shaved my beard and left ZZ Top.” It is from a book I am writing called “My Life: Fact or Fiction?”

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What can you touch?

My collection of 32 oz. Subway cups on my desk. To date, I have 22 of them.

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?

That would be the Atlanta Braves game last night against the Phillies. They had mercy on me and won, 3-1.

4. Without looking, guess what time it is.

2:21 PM.

5. Now look at the clock. What is the actual time?

10:23 AM. Boy, that is embarrassing.

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?

Only the voices in my head. No, wait…that’s just Rich, the co-worker who shares my office. Silly Rich, stop telling me to burn the building down.

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?

This morning. I was stepping out of my car to enter the building where I work.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?

The photo of the Smoltz Bobblehead I keep on my desk.

9. What are you wearing?

The same thing I always wear to work: swim trunks, turtleneck sweater, black socks, flip flops and a smile.

10. Did you dream last night?

I’m not much for dreams.

11. When did you last laugh?

That would be last evening during game night. While playing poker, my friend Emily said something to the effect of “I don’t sound like a horse, do I?” I responded, “no, you don’t *sound* like a horse.” Five seconds later she caught on to what I said, at which point I laughed. Hey, they can’t all be winners, folks.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?

I’m in my office. I’m a guy. My walls are completely bare except for the Monty Python poster in the corner.

13. Seen anything weird lately?

I saw a spider on the ceiling of my bedroom. I didn’t have anything to kill him with, so I tried spraying him with objects in my bathroom. In my research, I found that Hugo Boss cologne works much better than Axe Body Spray at making spiders smell nice. However, neither is very good at killing them.

(For whatever reason, I skipped #14. Maybe I forgot? Or maybe I was at war with the number 14 back in the day?)

15. What is the last film you saw?

In theatres, Lady in the Water. On DVD, Munich. If you are looking for a good comedy, I recommend neither.

16. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?

Truck needs fixin’.

17. Tell me something about you that I don’t know.

Three of my friends are former students of mine. My mom affectionately refers to two of them as my “stalkers.”

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or
politics, what would you do?

Every day would be Casual Friday.

19. Do you like to dance?

I have two left feet. Two large, deformed, uncoordinated left feet.

20. George W Bush:

Former owner of the Texas Rangers.

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?

LaQuisha.

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?

Superfly.

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?

Depends on how long. One week on a vacation? Sure. Otherwise, probably no.

24. What do you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gate?

“There he is. High five!”

25. Four or Five people who must also do this quiz in THEIR journal?

All who read my blog…

That’s all for now, folks. If you’ve missed me, let me know by leaving a comment or two or ten.

I have ranted before about how it seems as though everyone else in the world is incapable of correctly parking their vehicles. To be specific, I dedicated an entire blog post to the topic back in September 2007.

That was 18 months and some odd days ago.

A lot can happen in that length of time, right?

In 18 months and some odd days, a little boy with bad hand-eye coordination can learn how to play catch with his dad without the ball hitting him square in the eye.

In 18 months and some odd days, Axl Rose of Guns ‘n’ Roses could write and record almost two entire songs.

In 18 months and some odd days, Barack Obama can go from a senator with a questionable background and no experience to a legitimate presidential candidate with a questionable background and no experience.

In 18 months and some odd days, Samuel L. Jackson can appear in 10 or 11 movies.

In 18 months and some odd days, Paris Hilton can go from an inexplicably-popular tramp with no redeemable qualities to an inexplicably-popular tramp with no redeemable qualities in prison. Then to an inexplicably-popular tramp with no redeemable qualities who is also an ex-con. Then to an inexplicably-popular tramp with no redeemable qualities who is also an ex-con and who has a reality TV show where people compete to be her “best friend forever.”

Like I said, a lot can happen in 18 months and some odd days.

So why is it the bad drivers of the world haven’t gotten ANY better at parking?!?

As I left the gym and walked to my car in the parking lot this morning, my eyes immediately noticed the car next to me.

“Boy, he looks like he’s pretty close to me,” I thought to myself.

When I got to my car I saw the work of what is likely the worst driver ever to park beside me.

My car was perfectly square between my two lines. My car is pointed straight ahead. To give you a visual, the nose of my car is at twelve o’clock and the rear of my car is at six o’clock.

The nose of the sedan to the left of me was at about 10:30. The rear of his car was at 4:30. His right, rear tire was 100% in my parking space a mere six inches from my rear, left tire.

It was the most ridiculous parking job I’d ever witnessed. How he managed not to hit my car is a miracle.

And what made it doubly ridiculous is the parking lot was practically empty. The guy could have parked anywhere. But he chose that space. The one right beside me. And he did it blindfolded, apparently.

With unemployment high, I propose new police officers be hired in every town and city in the country. These officers will have one mission: to write tickets to people who cannot properly park.

Their job would be simple. If they come across a parked vehicle that is touching one of the parking lines, they give the driver a $50 ticket.

If they come across a parked vehicle that’s crossed one of the parking lines, they give the driver a $100 fine.

Once a person gets three parking tickets, their vehicle will be auctioned off for charity and they will lose their driver’s license — permanently.

It’s brilliant, don’t you think?

It will give jobs to people who currently do not have jobs.

It will stimulate the economy since the parking fines will be given to business owners (the ones who will be taxed to death by Obama).

It will help charities.

And best of all, it will get these freaks who don’t know how to park off the roads.

It’s a win-win-win-win situation.

Who’s with me?!?

After talking about it for several months, this morning, I finally did it. It wasn’t easy, but I did it.

“Could Kev possibly be more vague,” you are all likely thinking.

Yes, I probably could.

But since reader comments lately at SKOS have been about as rare as pro-America quotes from Obama while he’s been touring the world, I’ll drop the vagueness.

This morning, I woke up 90 minutes earlier than usual. I put in my contacts. I stretched. And then I went to the gym and hung out with my favorite elliptical machine. Then I came home, showered, dressed and went about my work day as usual.

(In short, I went to the gym before work this morning.)

Now, I am NOT a morning person. Getting out of bed to exercise before work isn’t easy for me. On my difficulty scale, I would rank it just above “not going to the restroom after drinking four cups of coffee while watching it rain outside my window” and just behind “making time stand still with my mind.”

But like many people have said before, the hardest about going to the gym is getting up and going to the gym. Once you get past that hurdle, everything is golden.

I always feel better after exercising. No matter how out of shape I might be, I feel good while working out and I have more energy afterward. Plus, getting up at the butt crack of dawn to exercise makes it very easy to avoid food temptations during the day. For example, take the following conversation I had this morning:

“Would you like a doughnut,” a co-worker asked me. “I bought three dozen for the office to share.”

“No thanks,” I responded.

“Are you sure,” my co-worker shot back. “Do you like glazed or chocolate?”

“Thanks, but I’m trying to eat healthy,” I insisted.

“Healthy? Come on, one doughnut won’t hurt,” my co-worker, who clearly is a demon sent by Satan to tempt me, responded.

How did I respond?

Well, I’ll give you three potential choices. One of them is correct:

“Want to see me make this pencil disappear?”

“I am ignoring you now.”

“Do you get a bonus if you give me diabetes or something?”

That’s right. Don’t mess with me, evil co-worker. My tongue is as sharp as a very sharp object of some kind.

Anyway…

The only negative about all of this is I have to do it all again tomorrow.

Lord give me strength.

There is something I do while driving that I don’t even realize I’m doing until I have a passenger with me who brings it to my attention.

Do I sing along with the music as loud as I can? No, thankfully for my passenger, that’s not it.

Do I fall asleep at the wheel? I’m sure I would be an excellent driver even in Sleepy Town, but no…that’s not it either.

So what is it I do?

I supply a running commentary on every other driver on the road and the (usually) inexplicable things they are doing behind the wheels of their vehicles.

For example, here are some of the things my sister heard yesterday while she rode with me to church:

“Look at this idiot. Hey buddy, it’s raining. Turn on your lights.”

“There’s someone who just got her learner’s permit. I bet she’s on her way to the dentist to have her braces removed.”

“I’m not sure where this person is from, but in their country ‘green’ must mean ‘look for something in your purse until the guy behind you honks his horn.’”

“There’s another genius with his lights off. Is there a moron convention in town? Is that where they all are going?”

“Either this guy forgot to turn off his turn signal, or his car is winking at me.”

“I could be mistaken, but I think the guy in the car in front of us is blind.”

“That car makes me sad.”

“I know I say this often, but every other driver on the road right now is a part of a mass conspiracy to drive me insane.”

I wish I was joking. I actually say these things while driving.

In all honesty, I am a nice person. I have a laid-back personality. Things really don’t rattle me. But there’s just something about being behind the wheel of a car that brings out the Mr. Cranky Pants in me.

Maybe it’s because I’m such a directionally-challenged individual — it requires me to be extra aware of my surroundings, and as a result I observe all of the stupid things people are doing around me.

Maybe it’s because, when I first began learning to drive as a teenager, I was really bad at it. I didn’t drive fast, but it’s hard to fathom how anyone could be a worse driver than I was at age 17.

Maybe that is why I’m always critiquing the bad drivers of the world. I see a little part of me when I see them. I see the careless teenager who didn’t pay attention to what he was doing, much less what anyone else on the road was doing.

Yes, maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s why I critique them.

Or maybe it’s because they’re all morons.

For this latest edition of Dear Reader, I will try to help an individual who either worships Satan or who openly mocks Satan’s artistic abilities — I’m not sure which. At 1:17 PM on April 1, 2009, a visitor from Israel stumbled upon my site after asking the following question:

“why is satan allways drawen so stupid”

A big thanks to Google for referring this reader to me.

Dear Reader,

I’m much too nice of a guy to openly mock your spelling and grammar. Someone less nice would point out the multiple misspellings in your Google search, but not me. Nope, that’s not my game.

What I will say is your…um, interesting choice of letter usage has caused me to be unsure of precisely what you were asking. Are you asking why Satan is always drawn stupid, or why Satan is always drawing stupid?

If it’s the former, I assume you are a Satan worshiper who doesn’t appreciate the way people depict your evil master in drawings. My comic strip of a cartoon Satan and Obama on a date would be a good example.

If it’s the latter, I assume you are an art critic who has seen some of Satan’s drawings.

Assuming the former, have you taken a good look at your evil master lately?

Come on, man. The guy is red and has horns coming out of his head! Do you know how hard it is to draw something red with horns and NOT have it look stupid? It’s pretty darn difficult.

And what’s with the pitchfork he’s always carrying around with him? Do you expect us artists to simply OMIT it when we depict him in a drawing? Not happening, buddy.

And don’t get me started on his goatee. We get it. You’re evil. Blah, blah, blah. Goatees might look cool in real life, but it’s hard to draw one and not have it look stupid.

Look, we don’t tell you how to kiss Satan’s a** do we? And we don’t tell him how to be all dark and evil, right? We don’t tell you how to do your job, so you don’t tell us how to do our job.

Got it?

Good.

Now, assuming it’s the latter, I couldn’t agree with you more. Satan’s an artistic hack who most definitely shouldn’t quit his day job.

Why we let him design our mascot for the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta is beyond me.

God is awesome,

kev

What sort of advice would YOU have given our friend/enemy here? As always, leave lots of and lots of comments — one or two or ten, preferrably.

It’s April Fool’s Day.

As such, I’m sure most of you regulars are expecting me to do something big and over the top. After all, it was on last April Fool’s Day that I wrote four works of satire for a personal finance blog of all things. “Surely Kev has something ridiculous in store for today,” you’re probably thinking.

Here’s the thing.

It’s more or less April Fool’s every day of the year here at SKOS. Seriously, just think back to some of the stuff I’ve written in the past year.

April

I wrote about how the Atlanta Braves were going to be facing a pitcher who was also a brain-eating zombie.

May

I talked about how I am able to get over concussions and the bird flu simply by thinking awesome thoughts.

June

I wrote a letter asking parents to stop expecting me to teach their children how to properly act in society.

July

I wrote a news story about how the artist currently and formerly known as Prince was brutally attacked by an assailant that just happens to look a lot like me.

August

I gave some tips to teachers that included, among other things, shooting rubber bands at the heads of students and telling them you once shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.

September

I wrote about how leather chaps will always and forever be in style.

October

I compared SKOS to the movie The Ring and told readers they would die if they didn’t tell other people about the site.

November

I wrote about how a Freddie Prinze Jr. movie is responsible for the plague that is the Obama presidency.

December

I gave dating advice and offered the following gold nugget of relationship wisdom: “People respect people who do not respect people’s boundaries.”

January

I gave advice to a mom who didn’t like the loser her daughter was dating. My advice? Kill the boyfriend, go to prison, and let me date her daughter.

February

I revealed a number of tidbits about myself, including the one about how the future homecoming queen at my high school drove me to our junior prom because I did not yet have my driver’s license. No one seems to believe this actually happened.

March

I created a series of comic strips. One of them depicted Satan and Obama having dinner together and being on the verge of making out.

See what I mean?

April Fool’s Day to a site like mine is like Halloween to a vampire or Columbus Day to Christopher Columbus.

It’s boring.

It’s crass.

It’s laaaaaaaame.

(In short, I totally would have participated this year, but I just couldn’t think of anything funny.)