There cums the neighbourhood.

The other night me and the girlfriend were reliving shared but separate childhood memories by re-watching The Neverending Story. It was a spur of the moment type thing, so we got started rather late. As we were approaching the half-way mark we found ourselves getting the mid-night giggles. That stage of tiredness when everything seems rather funny. We were chatting in hushed and clipped tones and having a laugh at how poorly some of the elements in the movie had aged. During this most pleasant of times we get interrupted by a loud banging on the wall followed by an equally loud yet muffled voice. - "I'm actually trying to sleep!" Or something to that effect came pouring through the wall we share with this apparently grumpy denizen. Most rude. That I had been forced to overhear said person have loud and obnoxious mid-day sex just a few days prior is of no concern. Apparently. Clamorous Afternoon Boinking - Perfectly acceptable. Average Nightly Conversation - Horrendous. We weren't having a rip-roaring booming time, with rowdy cheers and boisterous applauds. The volume was in every respect, reasonable. A bit too reasonable even. Had it sounded like twenty-odd burly men performing heavy construction in the middle of an ongoing party as a gaggle of geese were set ablaze for the party crowd's amusement I should think my keen and sharp neighbour would have hesitated before bothering me with information on his sleeping habits. The silly git. The addition of the word "actually" in his improvised and analog cross-domicile radio theatre opens up a whole other level of  possible interpretation. Did he actually expect us to know that his and our headboards were adjacent? What then must be his point with such rambunctious three o'clock sex? I dare not speculate any further into such perverted goings-on that must be...going on. I quite often over-complicate things. He's probably just a self-centered asshole. Which is an interesting idea, in and off itself.

Practical Solutions.

Sports and Health-care Why don't hockey teams put a sumo wrestler in the goal? Tiny little goal, big fat fellow, seems sort of obvious to me. And if you can't find a Japanese guy simply throw in a fat mid-western housewife or something. Anyone with the right girth will do. They don't even need to know how to skate. Just have the teammates escort this behemoth out on the ice and shove 'em between the posts. All this person has to do is stay put and wheeze for long enough to survive the playoffs. Hell, it could even be a diabetic stroke victim that had to lose a foot at some point. There are plenty of those around, more than you'd think. High-fructose corn syrup is cheap. Let's put these people to good use and take some of the burden off of our failing health-care system. Good ideas like these will save western democracy. I'll make sure of it. Even if it kills us all. By the way: if athletes injure themselves I don't want to see them automatically end up first in line for treatment. He won't be able to play anymore? Good, fuck him. He knew what he was getting into when he laced up. They are no more important than anyone else on that list. The guy's shuffling around a piece of leather on a field with his friends all day. We won't be losing a cure for cancer here. Death and Burial When I die my request is to not be buried. No cremation for me either, thanks. I have some rather specific wishes I want carried out by my family and friends. Dress up, festively and in vibrant colours. Wear funny hats and shoes. Party it up. Drink, smoke, snort, huff, inject or freebase whatever you want. But do it for at least two days before and after the ceremony. Drag my body into a desert of your choice. Place my corpse upon a black plinth three stories in height. Wait until the sun is setting in the west and that magic hour arrives. And at the very right moment; blow the entire thing to pieces in a huge fucking fireball of destructive power. Then cheer loudly as tiny pieces of debris and my body parts rain down upon you. Don't worry, there will be umbrellas available for the more conservative among you. Airport Security Let's face it, we probably won't be able to make all aspects of air travel completely safe from attacks by crazy people. Instead of investing billions of dollars world wide on trying to check all the passengers I've come up with a somewhat more cost effective solution. Line the inside of all the airplanes with a two inch thick plate of steel. Give all the passengers a baseball bat on each flight. A proper Louisville Slugger painted orange for visibility. You think any terrorist wants to be trapped inside a metal tube at high altitude with a bunch of panicked and desperate passengers carrying blunt objects? Going out in a crash is one thing, being bludgeoned to death in a cramped space is quite another. Sure there will be some unfortunate incidents not related to terrorism once in a while but that's just par for the course. Security is paramount. We sure do put an inordinate amount of time and effort into inane nonsense. Not me though. Only important subjects cross my mind. I'm a modern day renaissance man. Off-brand and suspiciously out of sync. The North Korean cartoon propaganda version of a comedy legend.