Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Why The Family Guy Gets It and Demon Bats

I have a sense of humor. In fact, I am a fairly funny guy. I say this because all of my life folks have told me "Hey, you're pretty damn funny." So there you go, unsolicited opinions to the fact that I do have a funny bone. Now, having said that, I know funny when I see it, and when I don't. Let me say this: most folks DO NOT have a sense of humor. They think they do, but they are sadly mistaken. So, get ready for me to say something controversial. Napoleon Dynamite was not a funny movie. I have said this before. In fact, I had an argument with a friend a long time ago about this and my point was "It's trying too hard to be quirky and unusual...but theres no real humor. Just an attempt at oddity....which in and of itself is not necessarily funny." Needless to say a lot of folks accused ME of not having a sense of humor and Napoleon Dynamite went on to make a ton of money (because people don't know real humor and whats actually funny). Well, I was watching my DVR'd Family Guy last night, and guess what conversation took place? This one:

Peter: "Hey Quagmire! Cool, you're dressed like Napoleon Dynamite. You going to say anything funny?"

Quagmire: "No. I just do quirky things for the sake of being quirky."

Peter: "You strike me as someone who I wouldn't enjoy but others might."

Awesome! Seth McFarlane is the creative genius behind Family Guy and is one funny bastard. And, apparently, he sees eye to eye with me on the whole Napoleon Dynamite thing. It only took like two years but now I feel vindicated. I will sleep well tonight! Actually, maybe I won't. And here's why....

FUCKING BATS. I hate bats. Loathe them. They CREEP ME THE SHIT OUT. Snakes? No problem. Spiders? Feh...I'm your man. Viscious dogs? Nah. I can deal. But bats? (shudder) Let me give you a little background. When I was about 14 yrs old I was hanging out with a friend of mine in my parents driveway. We lived in the country. I was sitting in my dads pickup truck and listening to the stereo with the windows down. It was dusk. My friend was sitting in the grass outside the truck. As I sat in the truck I felt a vibration next to my ear. It felt like a big butterfly was buzzing next to my ear. I felt something then bump my head. I said to my friend "I think theres a huge moth in here." He replied "Dude, that's a bat." Me: "FUUUUCK!" I then frantically tried to open the truck door and launch myself out of the truck. I threw myself against the door and almost knocked all the wind out of me because the door wouldn't open. I repeatedly slammed myself against the door trying to get out as the bat from hell buzzed around my head and bumped into my ear. As I was starting to rip the handle off of the door, my friend said "Dude, you've got to unlock it." I then pulled up on the lock with the force of the Incredible Hulk ripping some skin off of my finger tips and sprinted into the driveway. I looked around thinking the bat must be gone now that I'm outside. I then felt another bump into my head. I ran down the side of my house yelling "FUUUUUUUCK!!!!!" My fiends only comment "Dude...that bat is totally chasing you." As I heard the fluttering of leathery wings behind me, I made a hard right into the house and escaped what I knew was almost certain death. My friend laughed his ass off for about fifteen minutes and almost peed himself in his state of hysterics. So there you go. Thats where my psychological scarring came from where bats are concerned. To this day I cannot stand them. OK, this brings us to tonight. I get home after a hard day at work and its about 11pm. I feel like a snack so I pour myself a small bowl of cereal and sit down on the sofa to unwind and watch a little tv. I see this flutter to my right out of the corner of my eye. Is that a bird? I turn to the right and look into my dining area...and almost blow a mouthfull of Honey Nut Cheerios out my nose. There, fluttering around in my dining area is a black bat. Although I know the bats in our region are about the size of a mouse with wings, this thing looked like a black 747 jumbo jet with fangs. It was hungry, bloodthirsty, and wanted to feed. I could feel it focusing in on my carotid artery. Although I did have the urge to yell "FUUUUCK!!!" again just like when I was 14, I fought it back. I dodged around the winged death merchant and grabbed my phone. I then opened all my doors hoping this creature from the bowels of hell would tumble out into the black abyss of the night. No such luck. It fluttered over to my bar and disappeared into the curtains by the window. So, I called my mom who lives down the street and told her "Theres a bat in my house." She laughs and says "I know how you feel about bats! It would have been better if there was a rabid Doberman Pincher in there." (True quote) So she comes over and I tell her just to watch the door and let me know if the bat flies out of the house. I'm going around to the backyard to pull the screen off by the bar in hopes the bat is over there and maybe it will fly out. As I walk around to to the back yard I hear my mom scream. Hmmmm....the bat is obviously on the move. I ask her where it went and she tells me its over by the bar again somewhere. I make it to the back yard and shine my flashlight through the screen. There, hanging upside down vampire style in the window, is the hellspawn...I mean bat. OK. He's right next to the screen. If I pop the screen off, hopefully he'll just fly right out of the window. So, here we go. Off comes the screen as it crashes to the ground and I rapidly retreat a few steps expecting a bat was going to try and wrap itself around my face and drain the fluid from my eyeballs. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Hmmm. "Mom, you see anything?" Mom: "Nope." It MUST have flown out, right? How could it have not? Sigh. "Ok, I'm coming back in." I go back in the house and head over to the bar and as a precaution shake the curtain. Out comes the bat and my mom screams like theres an axe murderer in my home. I dodge the flying demon and make a break for the front door ready to crush this thing to a pulp if it goes for my eyeball fluid. As I'm performing an eyeball fluid saving tactical retreat through my living room, my mom says "It flew out the window." I then run outside (constantly scanning for a hell missle) and quickly put the screen back on the window. Final cost of this exercise? My cat got out (later retrieved), my cereal went soggy, I'm covered in sweat, and I'll never sleep good again. I'm wiped out...time for bed. And yes, I WILL dream of bats...