Poll: 99 Percent of Americans Support Happiness

any purported to be surprised by the results of a random poll Thursday of living Americans to find high numbers in support of happiness and/or general well-being all around. While the poll results don't show express support for the administration or opposition to the war on Iraq, many responders suggested that happiness for everyone was something they favored.

On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being "most strongly agree" and 1 being "most strongly disagree," nearly 99.3% answered with 10 the question, "Would you like for everybody to be happy?" With a 3% margin of error, .6% ranked between 1 and 9 in their responses to the same question, while .1% were undecided on whether they wanted everyone to be happy.

According to the report, the results were clear across demographic boundaries. Republicans, Democrats, and independents were all generally in favor of happiness for everyone, as were women and men, most whites and members of minority groups. Incomes ranging from high to very low, even poverty levels, responded similarly, as did Christians, Muslims, and those of other faiths. In general, uncertainty was expressed among 28-year-old white middle class Christian men named Trevor Bancroft, who sounded like they might have been drinking a little.

A very high number of respondents also expressed a distaste for bad things. Many stated that if they had their way, they would do away with bad things altogether, while a small number expressed a philosophical opinion that bad things might be sometimes necessary for the twain purposes of breaking up monotony and making good things seem better.

While varying numbers expressed support or disagreement with military action in Iraq, high numbers again responded in favor of everyone getting along with each other. Some suggested putting aside differences in favor of working together in harmony, but their suggestions were batted aside with sarcastic statements that the poll wasn't a democracy.

The poll results follows a confusing month for pollsters, who have been reporting seemingly contradictory results that show Americans have strongly supported U.S. troops and at the same time have been against war. Polling companies are saying it's a pleasant change to find so many Americans agreeing on the subject of happiness.

Poll experts, which we are assured exist, are describing the high numbers as a rare artifact in polling. Such high similar responses in a poll have not been reported since 1995's poll on whether or not child abuse was good, 1992's poll on whether or not people were afraid of dying, and 1985's poll on who preferred Pepsi to Coke, taken by the Coca-Cola Company as part of an advertising campaign.

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Time to face the facts, Omar Bricks loves Mexican food. I am a certified Mexican Food Freak. Not to be confused with a Certified Mexican Freak, that's some kind of license you need to wrestle down there, keeps them from losing all their wrestling jobs to people from Tennessee. It's all a part of NAFTA.

Part of the fun of Mexican food is pretending you speak Spanish. Because what the hell do those people know, you could be Juan Fuckin' Valdez for all the waitress cares. She just wants to get back into the kitchen to do another line of crank before the buzz wears off. So you can really lay it on thick, rambling off some nonsense about chimichanga presidente allegro amigos. It's a blast. Sometimes you can even pass for a local if you order everything BellGrande and don't ask for mustard. They don't put mustard on shit down there, don't ask me why. Another trick is to put your exclamation points upside-down, if you happen to be writing something down. That doesn't come up much when you're ordering food, I know, but you'll impress the shit out of everybody if you can pull it off.

Sometimes I like to really do it up and go in there wearing a blanket with a neck-hole cut in it and some kind of crazy garage-sale hat. The busboys love that shit, I come in and it's all "Ah, gringo! Chinga tu madre pendejo!" It's like Cheers, it's awesome. One time I came in strumming a mariachi guitar I found in the trash and those guys had to hold each other back from coming over to high-five me. They love it when they see white guys who are down with their culture.

Mexican food is great because it's all interchangeable. You can order anything off the menu and it's no worries because it's all the same shit. They might put the cheese on top instead of on the inside or it might have rice and beans instead of beans and rice, but it's not like they're suddenly going to whip out a tray of duck's nuts or anything like when you're fucking around with the menu at an Asian place. About the worst thing that can happen is you get shredded beef instead of ground beef, I guess they have a lot of problems with turbo-prop planes crash landing in cattle fields down in Mexico or something, I don't know. But overall the risk factor is pretty much no promblemo.

The biggest problem I ever had with Mexican food was one time in a restaurant when I wanted to re-enact one of those scenes from the Westerns where the big fat Mexican guy is sitting there with chiquitas on his lap and he's drinking beer and eating grapes or whatever. You know the guy, always laughing at the white guys, never takes a shower, gets shot at the end. Anyway, I wanted to be that guy for the course of a meal, but the waitress just wasn't down with it. Why she'd rather be busting her ass carrying hot plates instead of sitting on somebody's lap and eating grapes is anybody's guess, maybe she wasn't really Mexican.

Come to think of it, I don't think there are too many big Mexican families in Wisconsin that are cranking out blonde waitresses named Gwenyth these days. Shit. That's the last time I'll eat at Chili's.

"Authentic Mexican" my ass. Bricks Out.

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I'm a ravenous collector myself—be it shoes, dresses, slacks, blouses, socks, or jewelry, if you can wear it and it impresses people, I can collect it. But it's not just limited to normal collectible items. I also collect strange and fun items that most people don't know about.

For quite a few years now I've collected valuable birth control pills. It's a peculiar market that takes a lot of time and effort to learn about, and I've expended the time and effort. My agent even jokes I've spent so much wasted time on my hobby I could've been taking acting classes or pursuing more auditions—he's a terrific kidder.

Birth control pills become collectible when they're not taken and result in pregnancy—obviously birth control pills that are taken cannot be collected, at least not without grotesque invasive procedures. Birth control pills that are not taken and have no consequences are plentiful, especially when taken by people who are not having sex. The real diamond out there is the birth control pill not taken and ends with a baby. I started out collecting them after I found out my mother said she already had one, though she never told me the full circumstances of how she got it and how she knows it resulted with pregnancy. Since I already had that one to start me, I started seeking out other valuable birth control pills to start a collection, not only for fun, but to provide some financial security in my golden years, 35-40.

It's a hard market to get in on, I know that from experience. People look at you like your crazy when you ask them if they have any valuable and rare birth control pills for sale—by my best guess they either don't know the market or are hoarding their own private stock. But a few guys, who at first glance seem pretty unreliable and swarthy, in fact have a great collection that they're occasionally willing to part with, for the right price. From one guy I got six different pills of differing value, one resulted in the birth of Freddie Prinz, Jr., and several others led to the births of the members of O-Town, though they're obviously not as valuable as, say, the birth control pills that caused N*Synch—birth control pills both despised and priceless.

The most treasured in my collection—and I'll never tell where I keep it or how I got it, though a drug addict down the street hooked me up with it, that much I'll tell—is the birth control pill that failed to prevent the birth of Prince Charles of the Whales. It's a real rare and old birth control pill from early in the century, back when they made them to look and smell like Altoids. And I got it real cheap from the guy. What a sucker!

My birth control pill collection has grown so much that I had to give up some of my other hobbies to concentrate on it, namely my collection of Who's Your Daddy? memorabilia, which office nerd and financial wizard Ramrod Hurley actually said is worth quite a lot of money now. Still, it didn't mean as much to me as my new collection, although I hate the idea of all that lost money.

I had it all, too— Who's Your Daddy? bedsheets, Who's Your Daddy? pressurized cheese, Who's Your Daddy? "cast sings the blues" CD, and Who's Your Daddy? birth control pills. Too bad I couldn't cross over that collection with my latest in some way, but those damn things work too well, from what I've heard. Anyway, that stuff was so rare that some of the items fetched a price between $100 and $2,000, so I almost wish I had held on to some of that stuff. Instead of selling it to Ramrod Hurley. But hey, a collector's pride is in adding the rare and hard-to-find to your collection, not in financial payoff. At least for me. Ramrod Hurley seems happier with his new Lincoln Towncar.

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