And I love it.
I love nonsense.
Makes the brain all ticklish.
One of the very real things I find nonsensical are:
- In Arlington, Michigan, it’s forbidden to cook a chicken during a thunderstorm.
- In Blue City, Missouri, it’s a crime to build a time machine except during a fire.
- It’s punishable by a $2,000 fine in Cherrydale, Rhode Island to tell someone “Have a nice day!” unless you really mean it.
- It’s a crime to sell your soul to Satan without the express written permission of Major League Baseball in Vermont.
- It’s prohibited in Huddleston, Illinois to set a mousetrap without a hunting permit.
Logical Scenarios For These Laws:
1. I get home from a long day of work and just want to eat a good hearty meal of chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. So I set about defrosting the chicken and peeling the potatoes. I pour myself a glass of wine and am soon down to my skivvies. No one likes to wear clothes when cooking. Too much in the way. I pop some Ring-A-Ding tunes on and reach to turn the stove on to fry up my delicious chicken when I hear BABOOOOOM.
SON OF A COWS IN A DITCH. It’s a thunderstorm. I let a few tears drip and sadly pack away my chicken. The crispy tenderness of the bawk bawk will have to wait till another day.
2. Tinkering away in the basement building shelves, and benches, and birdhouses or whatever it is people make in basements. I’m futzing with the saw and it gets stuck. So I put grab ahold of the darn thing, plant both feet up on the table, grunt and pull, grunt and pull some more when alas! It comes free. But oh no! I knocked over the can of gasoline sitting conveniently on the edge of the work table. Splash! Oh shit. I really hope this nonexistent cigarette that I never smoke doesn’t decide to fly out of my mouth and ignite the gasoline. Cause that totally happens in movies. Whoopsies! Whattya know. It happened. Now there’s a fire! What do I do?! Should I grab a blanket? Nooo, that won’t work. Fire’s too big. Should I grab the fire extinguisher? Nooo, it’s too far away. Should I build a time machine?! Why yes! Yes I should.
3. Walking down the street and some a-hole shoves his shoulder into me. I give him the birdie and yell, “Have A Nice Day A**hole!” A nice policeman comes up and says, “Miss, did you really mean it when you told that nice gentleman to ‘Have a nice day’ “? “Of course not,” I reply. “Well miss, here is a fine for $2,000. You can’t say that around here without reeeaalllly meaning it.” I grab his taser (cause I’m a ninja) and tase him. Standing over him I say, “Have a nice a day.” And mean it.
4. I’m in Vermont. And I’m having shitty luck as of late. My house was foreclosed. My car repossessed. Divorced. So what is my logical conclusion? Sell my soul to Satan of course! I draw my protection circle, chant a bit, throw some salt over my shoulder, and call upon the unholy one. He arrives in a puff of black smoke and smiles his evil grin. “You want to sell me your soul eh? So be it. But first, I must see the written permission form from the Major League Baseball Team.” I shake my fist at the heavens. “Damn you Vermont Major League Baseball!”
5. Here mousy mousy mousy. I set the traps to catch the little vermin. Their days of pooping all over my desk and eating my delicious Doritos are done! I set the traps and sit down in my little corner and wait patiently. Soon enough, a little mousy pitter patters its way to the nummmy peanut butter and cheese I have graciously set out for it. When SNAP! It grabs the cheese, shoves it in its mouth and proceeds to set off all 550 taps I had set for it. Sneaky little booger. The noise caused a ruckus and my awesomely cranky neighbor called the cops. I heard the sirens and started my “Oh Shit” mode. I grabbed the necessities. Underwear? Check. Bra? Nah, I’ll let em roam free for a bit. Shoes? Check. Gun? Check. Lock Pick Set? Check. Cheese Puffs and Chocolate? Check.
I’m out the door before the nice policmen arrive. I now must outrun the mousy bounty hunters. You see, I don’t have a hunting license to trap that mischievous mouse. Too much work. Too much time. I didn’t want to shoot the damn thing. I just wanted to protect my Doritos. If you don’t hear from me for a while….it’s probably because the mousy bounty hunters shot me while I was trying to rat trap them.
Are these laws for real? Hell if I know. Although, I wouldn’t put it past our wonderful government to do so. I do know there is one about being fined for carrying an icecream cone in your pocket. Convenient place to tuck the cone if you ask me…
In the words of Dr. Seuss:
“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, It’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, And that enables you to laugh at life’s realities.”
And remember: Do Not Make Faces At Deer. You May Just Find Yourself Facing A Felony.