Cesarean Sections are Overrated

Piss on the shitdick who says Omar Bricks doesn't have any culture; I went to the opera last weekend. I picked up a ticket from some guy in a pillow-quilted jacket down by the bus station on the way home on Friday, and Saturday night I was there at the opera house, dressed to the nines in the flashiest translucent shirt any of those crusty old shits had ever seen.

I told whoever's grandpa it was taking the tickets that I wanted to be seated in the Cesarean Section, because I hadn't had time to stop by the sporting goods store to pick up any binoculars on the way over and Omar Bricks doesn't pay good money not to enjoy an opera with all four senses. I'd wanted to swing by Kleggman's to get a pair of those gigantic 'nocs you see the cops use in the movies, the ones that are so damn big you can see what the dude ate for lunch when he hits those high notes, you know what I'm talking about? Now that's fuckin' opera. But my bus doesn't swing over that way and I'm not about to hoof it ten blocks just so I can count the fat rolls on some chick in a Viking helmet. And there's no point in wasting a night sitting up in the nosebleeds where you'll never see the beer guy again after the first act anyway.

Turns out the crusty old bastard thought I was kidding, as if Omar Bricks looks like he couldn't afford the good seats. Which is totally true, but where the hell does he get off? Lucky for him he reminded me of the dad from Diff'rent Strokes or else I might have had to egg his mansion. We discussed the matter for a while and conferred with some security personnel before we all decided to settle it with a footrace. I got to the good seats first, fair and square, with only a minimum of old-lady-pushing involved, but they turned out to be sore losers and I spent the rest of the night in a bar down the street.

Some guy I was talking to at the bar was telling me that a Cesarean Section is actually an operation where they surgically remove the baby from a pregnant chick's stomach. That was about the nastiest thing I'd ever heard in my life and I was sure the guy was making it up, but turns out he was right. I hope he knew I was kidding about his sister's porn career. But seriously, what in the hell is the world coming to these days? Are people now even too lazy to shit out the baby when it's ripe?

Next thing you know we'll all have colostomy bags so we don't miss any of the funny commercials on TV. Then everybody will be happy as sperm whales until they're in the middle of a Seinfeld when they realize their shit bag's topped off. We'll have to invent some kind of reverse pizza delivery guys to come around and pick up the bags on demand. "We'll be there in 30 minutes or less, or your dialysis is free!" What a life. Sure, it'll make for some funny soccer bloopers, but talk about your messy Armageddon-style bicycle accidents. Or skydiving mishaps, yeeich.

I don't know, it may sound like a utopia to you, but I think it'll end up being more trouble than it's worth. All of a sudden they'll be kicking you out of the opera because your shit bag doesn't match your tux. Sound hard to believe? They're already closer than you think, and I should know. If Prince can show up at the MTV Video Awards with his ass all hanging out, who are these guys to say shower sandals are inappropriate attire for their lousy little opera? It's not like I was performing or anything.

But that's the future for you. A couple of fatasses up on a stage, screaming in Italian while an army of old farts sit in the audience, benignly crapping away in their color-coordinated shit bags. Jesus. I'd move to Canada if it didn't mean going metric.

You can go on ahead and go softly into that goodnight if it suits you, but the bastards can have Omar Bricks' voluntary bowel movements when they pry them from his cold, dead fingers.

Bricks out.

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