The headline at Atlanta's Fox 5 was "Over 850 pounds of crystal meth found in Norcross storage unit." My first thought on reading the article was, "wow, that's a lot of drugs." My second thought was, "how do you dispose of that much meth?" The article didn't say, which if you ask me is a real indictment of the modern clickbait era of journalism.

Left to my own devices, I did what I usually do when I have a question: I googled it.^†

That was a mistake.

I only write this so that when I am arrested and the DA introduces into evidence my Google search history and social media feeds full of helpful instructions about what I should do with my stash when the cops inevitably come kicking in my door, I can say that it was all because I read a poorly reported news story.

(To save you the same trouble, let me report that the answer appears to be "mix it with bleach." I'm guessing a lot of bleach. I have not yet worked up the courage to google how to dispose of that.)

^† In addition to "how to dispose of crystal meth," these are some other actual Google searches I made in the last 2 weeks: "who likes licorice," "why am I paying 24% taxes," "life is not all sex and sun lamps," and "green lantern condoms." What can I say? I'm a curious guy.

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He sat back in his overstuffed easy chair and watched the giant Space Force rocket blast off on his television screen. He smiled. It was about time America got back in space — and with the largest rocket yet! It must have cost a pretty penny, but it was worth every cent.

Tomorrow couldn't get here soon enough. Around the water cooler, everyone'd be eagerly talking about today's launch. In the past, they'd've shared the experience on social media, but that was the past. Things were better now. Great, in fact. Better the internets should be shut down than continue to spew their hateful hoaxes and lies. Some people were stupid enough to fall for anything.

He belatedly realized he wouldn't be going to work tomorrow. Work was canceled, thanks to Tommy. The jerk had come down with the Chinavirus on Friday, and the company was closed for quarantine. All the employees had been let go. Stupid Tommy. Didn't everyone know gargling a little bleach killed the virus? Oh, well. More time for golf, right?

Except that the course had been unplayable ever since The Wall had been finished and immigration had been outlawed. No one to cut the grass, they said. That's okay. He wasn't a very good golfer anyway. At least now he didn't have to lie to anyone about how many strokes he had taken; zero was the best number you could get on any hole.

The thought of exercise made him thirsty. He'd've liked a beer; all he had was the new official drink of America. There'd been an election on the issue. He'd meant to vote but couldn't take the time off from work. Heh. He had nothing but time now. It'd taken some getting used to, but vodka wasn't all bad.

The white rocket continued to slide up his television screen. So powerful, so beautiful, so white. Just like it ought to be. America sure was great again.

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Trying to deflect the blame from herself, my mother casually suggested that someone else must be to blame for my anti-social tendencies. So that set me thinking....

As a Senior in college, I stood outside on a sidewalk rather than earn credit for hanging out with professional artists in an Atlanta coffee shop. So it must have happened before then.

As a Sophomore in college, rather than waiting in line to ensure that I got the classes I needed, I sat for two hours in the gymnasium bleachers until the crowd thinned out. So it must have happened before then.

In the 11th grade, rather than mingle with the other honor students at a convention, I spent hours in my hotel room playing Street Fighter II on the SNES. So it must have happened before then.

In the 9th grade, rather than participate in team sports, I chose to hang out in the weight room pretending to lift weights. So it must have happened before then.

In the 7th grade, rather than attend my classmate's co-ed birthday party, I told him that snow had blocked all the doors to my house. So it must have happened before then.

In the 5th grade, rather than sit at a table with strangers, I learned to eat meals in under 15 minutes while standing up. So it must have happened before then.

In the 3th grade, rather than move my chair to sit near other kids, I picked a fight with my teacher. So it must have happened before then.

In the 1st grade, rather than allow my classmates to harmlessly whisper to one another during nap time, I threw a tantrum. So it may have happened about then.

Fine, you're off the hook, Mom. It must have been my classmates in the first grade.

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I welcomed football season with a trip to Eastman, Georgia, to watch the football team of the school at which my brother teaches. They weren't very good, and I say that generously.

The Dodge County High School Indians lost to the Lucy C. Laney High School Wildcats, 26-13. I had a very enjoyable time, despite the behavior of the children in attendance who insisted on running up and down the metal bleachers in their flip flops. It was surprisingly loud for a high school football game. Fans attending a UGA game would have been proud of the support shown by the home team.

Quite by accident on the way out of town after the game, I discovered a memorial to Mr. Angel, the first recognized Bulldog mascot of the University of Georgia. The monument was dated 2008, and a bit of research after the fact revealed that it was built only after the dog was snubbed by an official UGA mascot list snubbed the poor fellow in 2006. It's a pretty cool monument for a dog with such a silly name.

The next day, the Bulldog's current mascot, Russ, wisely chose to hide in his doghouse and not to show his face in Georgia's latest loss. The University of South Carolina came to town and quite simply outplayed UGA on the way to a 45-42 victory. At least the Georgia coaches aren't directly to blame for the loss. Bobo's play-calling was generally far better than usual, and the team appeared ready to play, if unable to find an answer for the superior talent of USC's Marcus Lattimore.

Walking into the game, Trey and I had a conversation with a pair of South Carolina fans who claimed to be attending their first game in Athens. They were extremely concerned about potential maltreatment by the UGA fans, who they claim have an especially bad reputation in South Carolina and throughout the SEC. I've always felt that UGA fans are unusually gracious when compared to those found in some other stadiums. But later during the game, two drunk, obnoxious Georgia fans managed to offend nearly a dozen other UGA fans sitting nearby. If we can't stand our own fans, I can't imagine that we are engendering much love outside our home field.

As you can [no longer] see in the Flash file above showcasing nightfall in Athens, the field markings and stadium scoreboard have been redesigned for 2011. It's not an improvement, but it's better than the uniforms worn last week. If nothing else, the Georgia "G" needs to be returned to the goal line where it belongs. Georgia needs all the help they can get finding it.

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Crest now has a product that will whiten your teeth for "up to 2 months" in just 2 hours (Crest 3D White 2-Hour Express Whitestrips). Who the hell needs to whiten their teeth for the next 2 months right now? Who thinks "I sure would like whiter teeth before the end of this movie, and I'd like them to still be white when this movie comes out on DVD because that's the only way I can remember to re-whiten my teeth"?

If your teeth are so heavily discolored that you need to whiten them, you probably know how they got that way. You don't need this product after a meal of beets and grapejuice. Getting yellow, discolored teeth took months, maybe even years of dedicated work. Why throw away the badge of your dedication in just 2 hours? Most people in that situation would just get drunk and get a tribal tattoo.

If you are a heavy smoker or a compulsive coffee/soda drinker, you probably have bigger problems than what your surprise blind date will think of your yellow teeth. No one will say "I sure could kiss that chimney/wino if only she had whiter teeth." Even if you didn't before, you certainly will have bigger problems once you put enough bleach on your teeth to turn them from dingy to dayglo in only 2 hours.

Thank you, Proctor and Gamble, for trying to convince me that my teeth are suddenly, surprisingly yellow, and I need to whiten them immediately before I embarrass myself. I hadn't yet considered the fact that my yellow teeth may be the social equivalent of an accidentally soiled diaper. I'll rush out to the store to buy your product, just as soon as I can find a mask to hide my discolored shame from the other shoppers.

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I have now seen Transformers, and it sucks. I mean really, really sucks. For many, many reasons. For example, in all promotional advertising Dreamworks presents Optimus Prime's head with a mask over the mouth just as his movie-inspiring toy version has traditionally appeared. However, in the film, Prime has a visible mouth at all times. Why would Dreamworks promote the film showcasing a design that doesn't appear within the film? Answer: because they know that the masked toy-design is much, much better than the design that they actually used. I only mention this because this proves that the in-house marketing department at Dreamworks knows that their film actually sucks. As I previously posted on May 30, even director Michael Bay publicly stated that he thought the movie sucked. So who the hell paid to see this thing in the theater enough times to make it the 3rd highest grossing movie of 2007 to date? That person is the reason that we have capital punishment in America.

But since I think that so many of my recent posts have been so negative as late, instead of a long post about the abundant things about Transformers that make it very, very horrible, instead may I present two things worth watching instead:

1. Bleach on Cartoon Network. Sure, it's animated anime fantasy about super powers and dead samurai sword fights, but isn't that exactly the genre of thing that you'd go to see Transformers for? Great characterization always produces great entertainment. And this show's got it (whether the pronoun "it" here refers to either "characterization" or "entertainment") AND super powered sword fights set to Japanese pop-music. Sweet.

2. Pushing Daisies on ABC. This is the wonderfully narrated fairy tale of one man who has the power to return the dead to life. Naturally, he uses this power to solve murders and complicate his own love life. This show looks like nothing else I've ever seen on TV. It's getting great reviews, but must have a truly staggering production budget (and rumors circulate that director/producer Barry Sonnenfield has gone waaaay over-budget and angered studio execs), so I suspect that it will get the axe as soon as ratings slip even a little. See it while you can.

It suddenly occurs to me that both of those shows circulate around the concept of death. But then, so do CSI (and most other crime dramas), House (and most other medical dramas), and Law & Order (and most other detective shows). So let's not get carried away with calling me a goth, okay?

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