Saturday, 05 March 2011
I haven't gotten legitimately sick in at least two years; it could be as long as three or four, but I honestly can't remember. My theory: I've never given a crap about germs and all that nonsense my whole life, and now my immune system sees puny flu particles and laughs in their face. Common cold? Please. You better come with something better than that.
I would like to see some statistics about garbage men and how often they get sick - I'd bet a Sacajawea coin that they have half as many trips to the doctor as the dude at your office who's always singing the praises of waterless soap.
It saddens me to see how men, as a species, are going the other direction. Girls have always complained that It's Too Cold In Here or My Mono Is Acting Up Again, but us guys? Seriously?
Since when is it cool to be sick? Unless you're under the age of 17, you shouldn't flaunt your Kleenex like it's a flag at the Alamo. And don't even get me started on hand sanitizer. Unless your day job involves regularly handling fecal matter and/or weapons-grade plutonium, you can wait until the next time you drop your skinny jeans to wash the digits.
Everybody is too clean and too worried. If somebody drops a cookie and calls the five-second rule, these days they get looked at like a leper. It's time we set some things straight. Here's some other topics that really chap my ass when it comes to the subject of "dirty".
-- Why do people brush their teeth right before going to bed...and then again as soon as they wake up? What exactly happened to your teeth during the course of the night that requires immediate attention? Unless you woke up to your roommate farting in your face, you can either wait until after breakfast (ruins the breakfast aftertaste, but at least defensible) or chill until lunch. Even in this hypothetical situation, you should be more worried about pinkeye.
-- The aforementioned five second rule. To be honest, it should be renamed the "as long as it didn't land in dog shit" rule. Alright, that may be a bit strong, but still - you do realize nothing will happen, right?
Imagine the cookie being a flying saucer, and the germs on the ground being tiny people. When the cookie lands, it immediately crushes and kills all the poor suckers underneath it. The people in the surrounding area get knocked 50 feet back by the shock wave, and even after they stand up, they're too dazed and bewildered to walk up to the space ship. You've got at least a minute before you should worry.
People who don't pick up the cookie shouldn't be trusted.
-- Eating other people's pizza crust. First of all, why aren't you eating the crust? It's the best part. What else is wrong with you? Secondly, why do you care if I eat it? If you have the Ebola virus, tell me; otherwise, just shut up and let me enjoy this delicious saucy bread. As soon as somebody starts piling up their crust like Lincoln Logs, I start interrogating, both for my own gain and to peer into their soul.
Me - Saving the crust for last, eh? I like it. Do you prefer ranch or garlic sauce for dipping?
Good Answer - Hell yeah. Garlic sauce all day; ranch dressing is for people from Pennsylvania.
Medium Answer - I don't like the crust, you can have it.
Bad Answer - I'm not eating the crust; I'm trying out this low-carb diet that I saw in Cosmo.
-- Drinking straight from the carton. Look, I'm not telling you to wrap your lips around the Tropicana glory hole and suck like a Tijuana hooker - you're looking to wet your whistle, not get to third base. There's a proper way to do this. Open the cap, lean your head back, and slow-pour down the chute. No lip contact, no foul - germs don't swim upstream, they're not salmon. After some practice, you can try it with a quart of milk; the handle isn't as easy, but the triangular opening allows for great aim.
-- Taking the laptop into the bathroom. Why is this gross? First of all, whenever possible I have an accessory - a chair, a stool, a small table - on which I place my laptop, forming a makeshift desk. Even if I did have it on my lap, it's resting on my knees; I'm not sticking my salami into the CD-ROM drive. Take a deep breath and put down the Purell before somebody gets hurt.
I can hear the retorts already. "Wahhh, but the human lifespan is now 75! Hygiene is why we live that long!" Yeah, but do you think your pussy genes would have made it this far if your ancestors were passing up their version of the crust?
Bitchy Caveman - "No thanks, I don't eat woolly mammoth nipples; they give me gas."
Badass Caveman - "Cool, well then you can go eat that root over there, or just starve, I don't give a shit. And show some damn respect, we lost two good men out there slaying this beast while you were drawing those gay pictures on the cave wall."
Can you think of anything else people commonly refer to as "dirty" that really isn't? Or did your ancestors pass on the mammoth nipples, too?