I Don’t Wanna Change The World

I’m sure I’ve discussed it here before, but probably not to the extent I’m about to expound on it now.


On a side note, there’s a really stupid movie on the TV right now, and no one is taking the necessary steps to change the damn channel.


I’d mention the title, but that would dignify that celluloid assault on cinema and my gastronomical fortitude.


Alright, let’s get back to the subject at hand.


Let’s say you’re just sitting there minding your own bidness.  You could be watching TV, listening to some tunes, playing Donkey Kong, or just generally staring off into space as you expel colonic gas through your spandex biking shorts.


Suddenly you get an itch.


It’s not a typical itch, though.


This one is in your ear.


It’s one of those itches that demand attention right now, now, now.


The problem is that the itch is a little too far deep into your ear canal for you to reach with a finger.


What do you grab?


Any one of the following items will generally suffice:


A.  bobby pin

B.  paper clip

C.  door key from a 1984 Chevy Citation

D.  needle nose pliers

E.  cotton swab


Just admit the fact that you’ve either considered or even experimented with at least two of the non Q-Tip items listed above, and we’ll move on.


That wasn’t so hard now, was it?


The problem with that particular itch I’m talking about is one that takes just a little bit more speed and pressure from an inner ear implement in order to achieve the proper eargasmic sensation required to a) relieve the itch, and 2) assuage any complex you have about shoving the door key of a 1984 Chevy Citation in your ear.


With that, I offer the following fact to you right here and now.


The ambitious entrepreneur who eventually endeavors in the successful development and marketing of a device capable of generating aural nirvana with a strategically placed implement will change the world faster than the likes of Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Edison, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, and Mark Zuckerburg combined.

Just you watch.

Randy Tharp

TharpSter is a husband to one woman, a father to two kids, a master to two dogs, an occasional cubical occupant, and unable to make up his mind on an adequate theme for this website.

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