Here’s my favorite conspiracy theory. There is one, and only one, major, secret conspiracy. They know they’ll be found out – it’s just too hard to keep a secret. So their method of defense is this:
They’ve planted all of the other conspiracy theories (or at least, most of the major ones). Rumors about the moon-landing hoax, Elvis being alive, dinosaurs being fake, area 51 – all made up. These are so wild and unbelievable, they are designed to make people think that ALL conspiracy theories are totally nuts. That way, when you hear about THEIR activities, you won’t believe them either.
Trouble is, I can’t be sure which conspiracy is the REAL one…
I had an epiphany in the dressing rooms at Target just yesterday.
We are not getting larger/fatter as a person, but the manufacturors ( referred to here posthense as * Those Design Bastards *) are making a pair of, as an example, size 10 pants actually a size 8. But keeping the 10 label on it.
This is done in cahoots with Weight Watchers, Atkins and the entire Dieting empire.
And when we fail to lose weight, because HBO has another spectacular season and your Home Sports Team is doing really, really, really good, And the Reality TV shows are just assaulting you from every angle; you need to talk to someone about it, but you’ve lost all your social skills because you’ve watched too much of the the Soprano’s and have no where to vent, except online to a bunch of invisible friends who make jokes about pron and w00t! and when you do make jokes about pie and death rays in real life you get the odd look like you farted in an elevator, so you go to your Doctor, who refers you to a Shrink you cannot possibly afford because it would mean you would have to give up internet and cable all-together in order to pay for one office visit a month, so you whine to the doctor " Doc, could you just give me a pill or something to make all the misery just go away." So you get your little pills and all is great and wonderful and you get active again, off the couch and lose a few pounds and suddenly size 10’s fit better because Those Design Bastards must have made a mistake and let an actual size 10 labeled as a size 10 out onto the showroom floor. And then you go on dates again and have friends now because you are able to control your Badger, Badger Mushroom turret’s outbursts and then your date farks you over for your new friend, (who is a size six squeezed into size 4’s and never has to reapply lipstick, the ho. ) and you are all depressed about it and that Tony Soprano would never get farked over and oooh, look, there is some peanut butter chocolate chunk ice cream…and PING! there goes the button off the waistband of your size ten/size ten pants…and it doesn’t matter because there is a hockey game on tonight and it’s gonna be good. And you don’t need to take your stinkin’ little white pill anymore because nothin’ is every going to change, except who is getting fired on The Apprentice. And your life is just a downward death spiral into the dog poo pile of irony, but as long as you have your cheetos, Ben & Jerry’s and sarcasm, you might as well enjoy the ride south. w00t! THAT, my friends, is the conspiracy we are all dealing with.
I have no patience for conspiracy theories, but the latest one that’s making the rounds is particularly funny. I call it: The College Fraternity that is Out for World Domination.
It has to do with the Skull and Bones society at Yale. Apparently, this year both Presidential candidates were members of this “secret” society made up of only the wealthiest and elitist of America’s youth (for a complete membership list of this secret society, go here. Apparently they have concocted this bizarros scheme where member #1 would win the Presidency by the barest of margins only to meet member #2 in 2004, leaving the American people with no choice but to hand over the government to our beer-funnelling masters.