It is a statistical fact that less crimes are ommitted when it is colder than 30 degrees out. Interesting. This says to me that there are actually criminals out there watching the Weather Channel and thinking, "Hmm ... well, Tuesday is supposed to be nice. If my calendar is free on Tuesday, let me see if I can squeeze in a mugging." I think criminals want it to be sunny outside, so if they get caught they can be tan and looking nice for the judge.
Crime is definitely rising. At home we're real concerned with crime prevention. We've even got a security system protecting the house now. Actually, it's mostly just my Pops running down the stairs in the middle of the night in his underwear with a baseball bat if he hears a noise. The bat's aluminum, not that old-school wood, so I figure it's a pretty high-tech set-up.
We've also got a dog back home watching things. She's a Golden Retriever. Terrible watchdog. You can use a snapping, growling Doberman or Pit Bull, but retrievers are too nice. If a criminal busts into our place, all I can really threaten him with is, "Man, don't move, don't make me sic my dog on you. She's a mean dog, she'll retrieve your ass. She'll steal so many of your socks, you won't have nothing to wear and could end up getting blisters on your feet." Blisters, that's the best I can do. You show up at my place wearing flip-flops, and there's nothing stopping you from cleaning me out.
Not only are you not safe in your house anymore, you're not even safe in your car driving around town. Car-jacking is a problem. It's getting so bad that even the Amish are getting jacked. They pull up at an intersection, and dudes will be jumping into their buggy. They'll be grabbing the buggy whip at gun point and just trotting a getaway straight into Mennonite country.
Our only real response to crime is more crime studies. Studies show that crime is rising; murder is up. We don't just have studies on crime anymore, though, we're doing studies about everything. I read recently that studies have shown that human breast milk is actually healthier than cow's milk. I like to eat healthy, but I mean, really, breast milk? You have to draw the line somewhere. I'm sure in a few years, health food restaurants will be opening up in California. There will be people in their cars at the drive-thru saying, "Yeah, could I get two tofu burgers, an order of soy fries and two large breast milks please?" In the back will be high school kids flipping burgers, and pregnant women operating breast milk pumps.
Another study shows that there's a decreasing amount of illiterate people in the United States. All right, cool, rub it in on the illiterate people that they're one of the few who are still illiterate. They can't even read the study to defend themselves.
Honestly, I can't imagine not being able to read. Reading has helped me in so many ways. I read an ad on the subway the other day for this expensive penis enlargement pump. I'm on the subway, and, honest to God, the guy next to me looks up at the ad and says, "Man, you don't need some fancy pump gadget for that. I just use a bicycle pump and a few dried figs. Saves me money." Dried Figs? I wasn't even about to get into the connection between dried fruits and this man's penis.
I do know that I couldn't handle using a pump. I'd feel too much like those clowns at birthday parties -- the ones that use pumps and blow up long skinny balloons to make different balloon animals. You know that would put a totally different aspect on romance. "Baby, why don't you come over tonight? I got the candles, the wine, and I pumped myself into the shape of a poodle."
And what happens if your pump breaks? A guy's coming home from a date with his girl, feeling like something might happen, and he's got to look for the nearest gas station with a tire pump. "Baby, hang on a sec, I'll be right back." "Is the tire flat?" "Uh ... yeah, sorta, I gotta pump something up." He's running into the gas station convenience store looking for the pump and asking if they've got any dried figs. "Hey, hey, you got any dried figs?" Now that's gotta ruin the intimate mood.
