New Years Resolution App

This New Years I want you to think about something. What defined the last New Year? Was it staying up with friends to do the count down? Getting completely wasted on champagne? Reconsidering the events of the years past?

I’ll tell you what didn’t define it. Your resolution. Who even carries out those things? You give up before the 3^rd week is over, because at that point you go “screw it; there’s no gain in carrying this through”. But geniuses don’t need motivation to carry out their goals. They have good old fashioned shaming.

Introducing the newest app to come to Facebook; I call it resolution. You simply enter in your goals to come, whether they are big or small. You could try to stop procrastinating (like the other 7 billion people on the planet promised to do) or try to stop eating out at fast food chains as much. It doesn’t matter, since the sceptical judging nature of the first world citizen will call you out on it once you start slacking off on essays. Or shoving your face with McFattyGangBangs again.

But you may say:”but Alex, it’s not as if anyone knows that I’ve done such atrocities”! In that you would be wrong, as the browser bugs and insane privacy breaches already implemented on the Internet are more than enough to watch you. In your daily routine. Doing everything. Everything.

Never again will your friends look at you the same after you fail to progress on your goals for the 3^rd month running. Never again will you look at your own friends the same anymore once you realize they’re deadbeats going nowhere in life. How do you know that? Because they posted none of their goals online, which means they lack insight into the future. Because obviously everyone must use Facebook for every waking moment of their life. EVERYONE. Privacy is overrated anyways.

It’s not like you can object seeing that people have somehow been brainwashed into thinking that posting info on everywhere they’ve been and where they’re going is a great idea. We even have maps to make the stalker’s job easier. Truly the outlook humankind has never reached such an all time high before.

Note from Alex: Thanks to Henry for helping me fix up some problems that occurred thanks to the Chinese Firewall, getting this post out properly didn't run so smoothly.

The Big Fat Red Jolly Man Catcher

If you think about it, at this very instant there are millions upon millions of children in the world right now. And for each little one, a sad little elf has toiled for nearly a year to try to make toys for them. Considering that these elves are roughly 4 feet tall, as many sources report, and they have fingers about the size of bobby pins, they must get about one toy done every day or two, give or take of consecutive work. Along with eating and sleeping (if they even get to sleep) we're looking at a production rate of; very little per elf. For this reason I estimate his work force to be roughly 80 million strong. In comparison there are nearly a billion people in the world right now defined as hungry by the WHES... Damn! That is one big ass number! This leads into my next idea.

Every single wee 'lil granny is to knit one big ass pullover sweater each this year. Except they won't be giving them to their grandchildren, they'll be used to catch this glutinous elf launderer when he comes invading your homes on Christmas Eve. They'll be mounted under chimneys and mantles, with the opening facing upwards to anticipate the great big boisterous slave driver. Once he falls into this massive net of itchiness, he'll be overcome with a desire to scratch every inch of his ginormous sweaty festive body.

Before you know it by sun rise, he's scratched himself to the point where he's dislocated the pith of his dark core upon the den of someone's house. In other words, he skinned himself alive and bled out all over your nice rug. Anyways, we're gonna take this big cover and give it to Eddie Murphy. He will use it as a skin a la Buffalo Bill from Hannibal Lecter. Or sorta like Eddie Murphy as big ass Eddie Murphy from Norbit.

Anyways, leading his army of elves greater in number than any other current armed forces attachment in the world, he will convert the North Pole into a big ass bakery. Like, big ass bakery. Huge. Enormous. Grandoise. I like using big words. I'm assuming each elf can bake 6 loaves of bread each load. And about 12 loads an hour. For 24 hours a day. and 365 days a year. Before you know it, they've made a good 50,457,600,000,000 loaves of bread in a year. 50 quadrillion loaves is enough to feed each person on the Earth a few thousand times per day, let alone the billion "hungry" people. Of course elves aren't "humans" so they don't need food, sleep, or to live with dignity.

Considering how Santa is sitting on a big ass pile of money, with all the materials, food, salaries, health care, and scantily clad Christmas-themed prostitutes he has to pay for, we should have no doubts in being able to produce such figures. We have the space to grow the wheat on the moon, and the illegal immigrants to cultivate it. Maybe some of that cash can go into a cure for cancer rather than cartons of eggnog.

And thus the story, of how a young yellow boy saved the world and created an equilibrium of world peace and Swedish supermodels, ends.

Merry Christmas mates. :)

Braille Mood Undergarments

To anyone who has seen the dark wizardry magic known as a mood ring; it truly is a sight to be taken aghast from. This little bead of insanity has the amazing ability to change color upon the touch of a person, and display his or her given expression at the time of contact. Surely never before has such advanced technology existed!

...or maybe it just reacts to changes in room temperature.

Back on topic, It has occurred to me that not all among us have been gifted with it's impressive presence. I'm taking about the blind, as well as the color blind or those with disabled vision. There's no way that they could possibly understand the amount of excitement going on around this thing. It's amazing, sort of like watching a panda bear give birth to the tastiest most shiniest marzipan mollusc in the world. Okay... That was kind of random. Anyways, this next idea is dedicated to all those poor people that don't get to appreciate the funkin' trippiness of the mood ring.

A sensor will be rigged up to pick up room temperature, except maybe we can try to make it actually accurate this time about body heat to emotion ratios. A reactive substance (like those bad-ass non-Newtonian substances :3) will have a current run through it to make it bump up little granules, which will pop up through a mesh to form Braille characters that read out the user's mood. Similar to E-Ink in a sense. If a person were to rub this, they'd be able to "read" the person's mood. Not as cool, but it's a start.

So here's where it gets weird. While developing this idea, I also came up with the idea of entire articles of clothing being outfitted to change color based on mood. The thought behind this would be that dudes would be able to tell if their lady friends were in the... "mood"... upon a single glance at their... undergarments. Through this convenience guys would know when to try something out, and girls would be able to put people off from trying to pester them for... stuff. Notice I said "people" rather than "members of the grouping that is known to embody the characteristics of a male portion of a species". See, I'm respective in that way that I approve of many different views of life. And I'm totally not sexist either. Sandwiches.

So should a blind fellow stumble into bed with his lady friend, and he doesn't want to go to the awkward trouble of asking if she's... ready?..., he could opt out of this by slipping his hand over and reading her "mood" through these special undergarments. Hopefully he's enough of a ninja to not get caught by his lady friend with his hand upon her undergarments. Also it makes a great excuse in the case that he was reaching for something else.

Indefinitely this will be beneficial to all couples of any orientation, and not a stupid waste of money or a way to tell if someone puts out a lot. No one will be ridiculed or mocked for wearing one my innovative undergarments. Because that's what RRRAI is all about. Practicality.

Also, mood clothing thongs at the beach. Borat has never been so beautiful.

Plant Growth Limb Connections

I’ve always wondered about one thing. When people have their fingers cut off, you always hear about how they collect them to be reconnected at the hospital. How? When the body loses a limb, there ceases to be a nerve ending connected. How does the body know when and where to reconnect to the limb? My guess was some sort of chemical solution to make the cells start reproducing and mending, while they just hold the finger in place during the process. But of course that’s terrible because it’d never really line up properly again and you’d only retain some control of it, let alone even any control.

Of course here at RRRAI we don’t settle for the norm, so I‘m going to have to invent a new way to reconnect limbs. Should you ever one day receive one of these procedures, I’m sorry for your accident, but you can thank me personally for saving your precious little fingers. I like gummies and large wads of cash, keep that in mind.

This should work for actually any part of the body so long as you don’t bleed out first. You will be stripped naked and then smothered all over in a generous layer of cream cheese. Once that is finished you are to be profusely urinated upon by your nurse or medical care practitioner. Wait, no this isn’t some freaky food fetish film. Keep on reading. The presence of the cheese mixed with bacterial cultures will eventually lead to the growth of a thick layer of lichen caking the area. And here we have the concrete cementing for which the aforementioned chemical solution can be poured through without fear of any maladjustment. Sure, you’ll stink like a urinal and look something like Will’s dad from POTC, but now you get your finger/leg/arm/toe/eleventh finger back.

That last example? I dunno, some people are into weird stuff. 

Easy Bake Fetus Oven

To all those that are considering having a child at a young age:

Don’t.

It’s no where near as fun as you’d think it is, and the cute factor stops about 5 minutes in. I’m tired of suffering from your mediocre parenting (also known as babies wailing in public). It’s completely your fault that you’re a terrible parent with no foresight whatsoever.  Your 10 pound meatsack is no excuse for you to be an annoyance in the public, nor in restaurants, nor amusement parks, nor crammed into public transportation.

Here’s the idea; individual packets of baby making kits will be mass marketed for use in the Easy Bake Fetus Oven. No, you’re not gonna cook the kid. I’m just too lazy to come up with good names. Just pop the little packet into the “oven” and it’ll do the rest.

After being incubated for about 5 minutes (see the cancer baby post...), out comes a full grown screaming ball of angst. Your own little defecating bundle of joy. Of course this will be a non-safe form of cancer (as opposed to my magical “safe” super growth cancer), so the baby will die within 12 hours max.

It’ll be marketed to little girls, just as the Easy Bake Oven is, but the real campaign will be for sensible parents. It’s a shock campaign, designed to scare the s*** out of little kids so that they don’t have babies ‘till they’re actually ready.

What 7 year old doesn’t love taking care of a bloody newt of a child in a placenta as it slowly chokes in it’s own fluids, courtesy of poor parenting? See the realism of jaundice and alcohol-induced deformities before your very own eyes. Realize that you don’t have the resources nor the time to take care of your brand-new hardcore Tamogatchi, and watch it suffer in pain for its short existence.

It’ll be a bigger stopper of teenage pregnancy than Call of Duty.