I Don't Understand...

I like to think I'm a pretty sharp guy.

I can analyze the myself and world with a critical, discerning eye. I'm pretty sure I'm someone who can slice through bullshit like a Gin-Su knife through a three-week-old tomato left out in the sun, and yet, there are things that I still don't understand.

Because the modern world can't handle paragraphs, here's a convenient list of things I don't understand....

I Don't Understand...

* why Oprah hasn't bought Haiti yet.

* the people who stand outside "The Today Show" screaming like they're at a Beatles concert. Because, this just in: you're really, really not.

* why he went to Jared's.

* people who don't swear.

* sedans that only seat four.

* people who insist on looting and setting fire to things after their team loses the big game. Or wins.

* grownups who wear sweatsuits in public.

* why Toyota President Akio Toyota hasn't killed himself on live television. Yet.

* why Lady Gaga is a performer and isn't an exhibit at the MOMA or the University of Pennsylvania's Museum of Medical Oddities.

* when I started looking as old as I act.

* cold soups.

* why I have athlete's foot. I mean, talk about irony...

* new parents who see their sweet, tiny, precious baby girl for the very first time, and name her "Belinda."

* people who make sex tapes of themselves and somehow delude themselves into thinking that, six months later, I won't be watching it.

* how that rumor about Jamie Lee Curtis got started. (Don't look at me.)

* folks who totally get off on collecting stamps.

* why follower 128 went away. I miss you. Come back to me. Handy-handy?

* why Chinese food tastes so much better the next day.

* heterosexual couples who do it up the poop-chute. I mean-- I get why the gays-bops do it.

* people my age who fought so hard to elect Barack Obama, and are now disappointed because they've just discovered that they elected a human being and not a goddamn sorcerer who can pull jobs, healthcare, world peace, and rainbows out of his poop-chute.

* joggers who jog at night, wearing orange safety vests. In the street. I swear to God, the next jogger I see out at night in the street, when there is a perfectly good Goddamned sidewalk right there, I'm going to make my new hood-ornament.

* my family.

* pork rinds.

* people who talk on the cell-phone whilst shitting at stall in a rest-stop bathroom.

* the speed limit.

* how anybody can go to college and emerge a virgin.

* how country music became respectable.

* why my mother still thinks it's okay to use Velveeta.

* open-casket funerals.

* German.

* belly-sweat.

* why Angelina Jolie & Madonna haven't adopted all the Haitian children. Yet.

* art.

* why you read my blog when you could be watching old episodes of "30 Rock" on Hulu or trimming your toenail hairs, but, God, I love you.