Hey you, come here. I need you to do me a favor. Hold on to this bag for a little bit, okay?
Well, yeah, it is on fire. Funny story about that, I'll tell it to you some time.
In it? Well—and get ready to laugh, this is pretty great—I filled it full of shit. Yep, shit. This, my friend, is a flaming bag of shit, and you're holding it.
Why? You're holding a flaming bag of shit and you're asking me why I filled it full of shit and set it on fire? I was you I'd be figuring out a way to extinguish it rather than doing some kind of, what do you call it, searching moral inventory on how the bag came to be full of shit and set ablaze. Lemme tell you something, kid, I've been around a while: People don't care why the bag is full of shit and on fire. They just want you to put it out. All these questions: Why did you fill the bag full of shit? Why on earth would you set it on fire? Why am I not helping you put it out? Nobody gives a fuck. You're holding the bag. You took it from me. You put it out.
Look, you seem like a decent sort. I mean, sure, I'll tell people that there's something wrong with you, that I'm not impressed by your shit-bag-handling approach, that it's too methodical and logical. Also, I'm gonna pretend I don't know where you were born. But that's just the way we play the game. Anyway, I'm gonna level with you, 'cause I like you. Here's why I filled the bag full of shit: People like to see a full bag. They can't get enough of it. And the fuller the bag, the happier they are. Do they know it's full of shit? Probably. Deep down, they can't help but know it's full of shit. Still, and this is what I love about people, so long as they see that the bag is full, they're gonna tell themselves it's not shit in there, it's pearls. Or diamonds. Or the finest silks from the Orient. Whatever, I don't know what people like. Except seeing a full bag. Of shit.
Wow, that thing is really going. I was holding the bag, tell you what I'd do: I'd just let that fucker burn. Gotta go out sometime, right? Yeah, sure, the flames may leap to something else and cause a much larger fire, but that's a small price to pay, am I right? I mean, all the theories on shit-filled bags that I have followed in the first place, these philosophies and dicta that I used as organizing principles while I was busy shoveling the shit into the bag, they tell me that when a bag is full of shit and on fire you just let it go. Teaches the other bags a lesson or something. But you look like a responsible kid, I'm sure you're not going to fall for that. No, I'm not going to help you put it out, but I will sit here on the sidelines and tell you you're doing it the wrong way.
See, here's the thing: Eventually I'm gonna want that bag back. No, not right now. You make me laugh, kid. Keep that sense of humor, it'll serve you well. Anyway, back to the bag: This is gonna sound a little funny—really, even I have a hard time believing it—but this ain't the first time I've filled a bag full of shit and set it on fire. But here's what I've learned: Someone always comes around and puts it out for me. Couple of years go by, no one remembers—not even me—that I'm the one set the damn thing in flames in the first place. They just remember the guy who was holding it while it was going up. And then they look at me, sitting over in the corner, and for some reason they think, "Now there's a man knows how to handle a bag. Let's give it to him for a while."
And they do! I know, I can't believe it either.
So here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna put out that bag. It's gonna be messy, and you're probably gonna get a bunch of shit on you. While all that's happening, I'll be around to let you know how deeply I disagree with the way you're handling it. Soon enough the bag will be out—although I have to be frank; I have never filled a bag with so much shit before. I mean, woo boy, that is one full bag—and you'll be standing there, exhausted and confused and covered in shit. And that's when I'll take the bag back. It's just the way things go. Glad we got that straightened out.
But why did I set it on fire? Great question. I don't know either! It's just my thing. I fill the bag full of shit, and then, maybe for kicks, I guess, I torch that fucker. You got a bag full of shit, eventually you're gonna get creative with the accelerants, am I right? You know how it goes.
Oooh, it's really smoking now. I was you, I'd be working even harder on putting it out. I mean, I'm not, so I won't, but you probably want to. That's why I gave you the bag in the first place, right?
Great. I'll be over there. See you in a couple years!
This is good shit.
Hee.
Thank you Balk. And man, I need some BJ action up in that House to make it worthwhile if we are going to replay Clinton all over again.
This is a pretty excellent use of a metaphor.
Metaphor? I guess you've never been to a party attended by Balk.
Brilliant.
Oh, they'll get their--their bag back. And maybe the fire'll be out, maybe it'll just be smoldering, maybe it'll be mixed with a lot of ash, but it'll still be the same old shit.
Most probably the latter.
Sand is the answer.
This is a goddamn wonder. I will travel the day with this image in my head. The bag, the shit, the fire, the slowly-evaporating skin on the hand that holds it.
The philosophies and dicta on bags of shit. Marvelous, I needed this today.
Scott Brown=Tool
Not strident.
- I can't get the antlers glued onto this little guy.
- Try staples.
"Scrape 'em off, Claire. If you want save somebody, save yourself."
Yes, I quote Scrooged to myself.
Just like in real life.
::has a sad::
Okay, I'll play contrarian. Didn't the kid in this story ask to hold the bag of shit, and tell everybody that he would find a new way to put out the flames?
It's too late, it doesn't matter anymore. Elementary Mandarin will meet in the cafeteria after 4:00 PM Mandatory Struggle Session.
Learning From Lassachussetts
Yay! Bag of pearls!
[claps excitedly]
I just received this in my email:
Alright, come here you two dopey fuckers. I need you to do me a favor. Hold on to this bag for a little bit, okay?
Well, yeah, it is on fire. Funny story about that, I'll tell it to you some time.
In it? Well-and get ready to laugh, this is pretty great-I filled it full of shit. Yep, shit. This, my friend, is a flaming bag of shit, and you're holding it.
Why? You're holding a flaming bag of shit and you're asking me why I filled it full of shit and set it on fire? If I was you I'd be figuring out a way to extinguish it rather than doing some kind of, what do you call it, searching moral inventory on how the bag came to be full of shit and set ablaze. Lemme tell you something, you two morons, People don't care why the bag is full of shit and on fire. They just want you to put it out. All these questions: Why did you fill the bag full of shit? Why on earth would you set it on fire? Why am I not helping you put it out? Nobody gives a fuck. You're holding the bag. You took it from me. You put it out.
Look, you seem like a decent sort, not to bright, but decent enough. I mean, sure, I'll tell people that there's something wrong with the system, that It's not my job to do your shit-bag-handling duties, that it's too methodical and logical. Also, I'm gonna pretend I don't know how the bag of shit got filled. But that's just the way we play the game. Anyway, I'm gonna level with you, 'cause I like you. Here's why I filled the bag full of shit: People like to see a full bag. They can't get enough of it. And the fuller the bag, the happier they are. Do they know it's full of shit? Probably. Deep down, they can't help but know it's full of shit. Still, and this is what I love about people, so long as they see that the bag is full, they're gonna tell themselves it's not shit in there, it's pearls. Or diamonds. Or the finest silks from the Orient. Whatever, I don't know what people like. Except seeing a full bag, even if it's shit.
Wow, that thing is really going. I was holding the bag, tell you what I'd do: I'd just let that fucker burn. Gotta go out sometime, right? Yeah, sure, the flames may leap to something else and cause a much larger fire, but that's a small price to pay, am I right? I mean, all the theories on shit-filled bags that I have followed in the first place, these philosophies and dicta that I used as organizing principles while I was busy shoveling the shit into the bag, they tell me that when a bag is full of shit and on fire you just let it go. Teaches the other bags a lesson or something. But you two aren't as dumb as you look, I'm sure you're not going to fall for that. No, I'm not going to help you put it out, but I will sit here on the sidelines and tell you you're doing it the wrong way.
See, here's the thing: Eventually I'm gonna want that bag back. No, not right now. You make me laugh, kid. Keep that sense of humor, it'll serve you well. Anyway, back to the bag: This is gonna sound a little funny-really, even I have a hard time believing it-but this ain't the first time I've filled a bag full of shit and set it on fire. But here's what I've learned: Someone always comes around and puts it out for me. Couple of years go by, no one remembers-not even me, really-that I'm the one set the damn thing in flames in the first place. They just remember the guy who was holding it while it was going up. And then they look at me, sitting over in the corner, and for some reason they think, "Now there's a man knows how to handle a bag. Let's give it to him for a while."
And they do! I know, I can't believe it either.
So here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna put out that bag. It's gonna be messy, and you're probably gonna get a bunch of shit on you. While all that's happening, I'll be around to let you know how deeply I appreciate the way you're handling it. Soon enough the bag will be out-although I have to be frank; I have never filled a bag with so much shit before. I mean, woo boy, that is one full bag-and you'll be standing there, exhausted and confused and covered in shit. And that's when I'll take the bag back. It's just the way things go. Glad we got that straightened out.
But why did I set it on fire? Great question. I don't know either! It's just my thing. I fill the bag full of shit, and then, maybe for kicks, I guess, I torch that fucker. You got a bag full of shit, eventually you're gonna get creative with the accelerants, am I right? You know how it goes.
Oooh, it's really smoking now. If I was you, I'd be working even harder on putting it out. I mean, I'm not, so I won't, but you probably want to. That's why I gave you the bag in the first place, right?
Great. I'll be over there. See you in a couple years!
You're my new favorite person.