Some people are hard to get. Others are easy. Some people like to be got and stay got. Some people would rather do the getting and avoid getting got. Some people get one person and stick to them forever. Some people want to get as many as they can while the getting’s good. Some people are very picky about who to get and by whom to be got. Some are not. They just take what they can get. Some people just don’t get people. Some people read books and attend seminars on how to get people. Some people only get their own gender. Some people only get the opposite gender. Some get both and are kee-razy sex rebels. Some people are not happy with what they got. So they try and go get something else. Some are rendered gotten and rebel against their getter by getting ungot and getting someone else to be their own gotten which really is just a way to get back at the person who got them in the first place. Some people get tired of getting each other and get away from it all. Some people think there’s more to life than getting each other and are hard at work trying to get whatever it is they’re trying to get instead. And some people have realized that people and things and basically everything in life is fundamentally ungettable so there’s no reason to try so hard at getting them. Get it?
The pessimist says the cup is half empty. The optimist says it’s half full. The pragmatist says its liquid contents are at 50% capacity. The ironist says it’s half full of air. The plumber says the cup must be leaking. George Carlin says the cup is too big. The Starbucks employee says it’s so you have room for cream. The conspiracy theorist says aliens took the other half. The baseball player says his cup is definitely full. MacGuyver says he can build a powerful explosive with it. The psychoanalyst says the cup is your mother. The punk sitting next to you also says the cup is your mother. The romance novelist says the cup is a willing receptacle to the wild gushing torrents of pure passion from the hard chiseled urn. The zen master says, “There is no cup.” Pamela Anderson says her cups are definitely full. And me, I say, “Waitress! Refill!”
Imagine you’re in a forest. You come across a cup. What kind of cup is it? Do you keep it? You move on and you see a key. What’s it look like? What does it open? You walk deeper into the forest and you arrive at a house. What kind of house is it? Does anyone live there? You press on and come to a body of water. What’s it like? Do you dip your hands and feet? Go for a swim? Finally you move out of the forest and come to a gift shop. You walk in and a clerk says, “Thank you for playing our Psychological Test! Please choose from our wide selection of memorabilia to remember your visit! Souvenir cups! Key chains! How about this handsome number: ‘I Took A Pyschological Test And All I Got Was This Stupid T-shirt.’ Tre chic!” Do you buy anything? Ask to see the manager? Or do you kick the clerk’s ass and trash the joint?
At some point in your life you make such a monumental ass of yourself that you can’t escape the thought that perhaps you are a total idiot. Maybe you get smashed at a party and pass out in the jacuzi, but not before you put on a bubble wrap toga and run around asking the ladies to “pop” you. Not that this happened to me. Cuz it didn’t. Really, it didn’t. Anyway, it’s at this moment, when you stop and realize what a fool you are, that you approach something called wisdom. It’s sort of like a hazing ritual for enlightenment. You must endure much embarrassment before you achieve enlightenment. Before you can know yourself you must first learn to laugh at yourself. Except me. I have no embarrassing stories about me whatsoever. All that stuff about getting smashed and bubble wrap togas–not me. I just made it up. Really.