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Proposition #309

In light of the New Year resolving, people struggling to "get in shape" and adhere to their rigorous dietary standards, the thought that we are one year away from 2012 (and our Mayan based doom) happened to cross my mind. Though I'm certain that I'll live to see 2013 like most people, doomsday accounts do make one question his own mortality. Like all flying birds, (excluding the phoenix) I too have a limited lifespan, but rather than dwell on the tedious funeral plans, the sadness, the loss, and all those weird relatives, I've got a systematic approach that will be implemented upon my demise.

I proudly present Proposition #309: Shark Funeral.

Cremation? Burial? It's such a hassle. If there weren't such "ethical" concerns I'd be a strong proponent for taxidermy, but since those conservatives won't cut me a break, I've devised this plan. I mean, cremation is good and all, but if that urn tips and the wind catches it right, you can end up with a mouthful of grandma. Caskets are way too expensive plus I hate zombies; so being buried isn't an option. That's where the shark funeral comes in.

It's a new spin on the burial at sea. (Like the old throw'em over board approach, but better.) Let's be honest, funerals are a hassle anyway you look at it. People die at the most inconvenient times. Then you're expected to go because if you don't you'll be the bad friend... or child. But whatever, I digress. Anyway with Proposition #309 everybody wins. Now you're probably asking yourself, "It's a funeral, how can everybody win?" Well wise apprentice, just like any good stand-up routine, rock concert or intervention, it comes down to audience participation. You might still be drawing a blank so I'll spell it out.(don't worry, with time you too can be as knowledgeable as I). 

C.H.U.M.. That's right chums, the answer is chum.

My corpse has to be disposed of somehow, and my final wish is to be devoured by sharks. So what better way to remedy the situation? This is where the attendants' participation comes in. Everyone can grab an arm or leg, or a cup of gut juice, and feed it to the sharks.  Preliminary results have shown that camaraderie is produced through traumatic events. Therefore, my chums feeding the sharks chum will help bring closure and resolution to feelings of loss.

And let's be honest, it be a pretty memorable time. Granted this is hasn't been done before, at least not intentionally, but I feel the shark funeral would make the best out of a bad situation. Pizza will also be served, and there will be a pretty awesome music mix as well. I can't put a direct location on it as of yet due to the fact that migratory patterns of sharks fluctuates slightly over time, but I can guarantee that it will be in a warmer climate such as the Caribbean. 


You're all invited. BYOG (Bring your own gloves)


-The Falcon

Proposition #223

With the national debt growing ever higher, millions and millions of dollars at a time, it makes one think towards the future and retirement opportunities. Yes, even The Falcon will have to one day fly south for the winter. But rather than worry about retirement, 401K's, and denture cream, I've got an unconventional retirement plan that will be carried out before I die. 

Some might call it a "bucket list" but that's way too lame for The Falcon. I'm implementing what I like to call DEFCON: OMEGA. Basically, this is a list of wicked awesome stuff that I plan to do in place of rotting away in a nursing home.

Which brings me to number one on the DEFCON: OMEGA agenda, Proposition #223: Bear Punch

So there it is. Number one. Bear Punch. What better way to say, "Take that Mother Nature, I ain't dead yet!"? 

I know you're wondering how in the world this is going to be possible. And before you ask, no I'm not some bear hatin' left wing nut job. I would just like a challenge before I die. Look at all those big macho hunters who fly up to Alaska for "hunting" as they sit from a safe distance, pick off a bear with a high powered rifle, then pat each other on the back and try to pose for a new facebook profile pic. Bleh, makes me gag. They probably don't even eat it. What a waste. But I'm not like that. I'm in it for the sport. Unlike those flamboyant matadors at bull fights that lack all chivalry, (you know, the "fights" where the guy has a sword and the bull has blunted horns), I will battle with honor. That's why I've set up several guidelines for Proposition #223 which include:

• The bear must be found in the wild. No cage matches, zoos or otherwise.
• I must be alone. Mono a mono, with the bear. 
• Male or Female is inapplicable. (Females tend to be more vicious when protecting cubs, hence a better fight).
• The bear must be at least as tall as me when standing, I'll fight bigger if needed. No baby bear. 
• I will not crouch down in the fetal position unless dead. I'm no quitter. 
• Pandas don't count.
• Fisticuffs only.
• If the bear retreats, the match is over.
• If the bear dies, the match is over.
• If I die, the match is over.
• I will formally address the bear with my intentions before attacking; I'm no savage.
• In the event of the bear's defeat, ending in the demise of said bear, while leaving behind cubs, I assume responsibility for raising them as my own. But I will kill them if I have to, during their angsty teenage years.
• Video rights will be negotiated and propagated solely by BEAR PUNCH LLC.   

I feel that this will be the best possible course of action for The Falcon to take before finally roosting in the big nest in the sky. Provided I live, I will move on down the list of DEFCON: OMEGA.


Stay wise. 

-The Falcon

Proposition #187

I was robbed the other day at the gas pump, by the gas pump. Three dollars a gallon is quite excessive in my opinion. With the push for greener, more sustainable, and more awesome modes of transportation, Americans are once again turning to their foreign counterparts to remedy the solution. Imported cars have long been superior to American made vehicles in the realms of fuel efficiency and burgeoning technology; however I propose that America needs to re-engineer the solution. We need something that says “BAM! Eat that, I’m America!” 

This brings me to Proposition #187: The Komodo Dragon Chariot.

Now, let’s be honest, what could be more epic than a chariot pulled by Komodo dragons?

…Exactly.

You want foreign policy, BOOM! Have The President cruise through North Korea on one of these things. But in spite of the sheer awesomeness that would make Chuck Norris blush, it also has a very practical application.

What could be greener than Komodo Dragons? First off, they’re lizards. Green lizards. Also they’re low maintenance. I’m pretty sure that goats by the pound are cheaper than gas by the gallon. And since they don’t have a natural enemy, they’d make excellent guard …lizards. Imagine someone trying to jack your ride while you’re in the 7-11. With a car, a crook would have about five minutes to break in, hotwire, and drive away. You’d be stuck filling out police reports and would be lucky to ever see your car again. Now imagine you have a Komodo dragon chariot. Instead coming out to find a stolen vehicle, you see your pals chomping on the half-eaten corpse of the would-be thief: justice, security, and fuel all in one. That being said, the KD chariot would also alert you when it’s low on fuel. When you suddenly veer off the road as your lizards devour the neighbor’s dog or that courier cyclist, you’ll know it’s time for a break.

I know what you’re thinking: “How would they be able to shuttle the obese population of America?” The answer, like all things: steroids. Juiced lizards would give your engine a turbo function, just hang a frozen chicken from a fishing pole in front of them and watch your investment pay for itself. Granted, it might not get you up to 70mph, but when you’re rollin’ dragon style, why not savor every mile?

With lethal bacteria-laced saliva, these vehicles would have excellent military application as well. Not to mention, give the troops a massive morale boost.

After several tests, blinders are recommended and winter driving ends up being a bit sluggish. Don't get attached to small children.

-The Falcon

Proposition #136:

This wintry season makes me ever thankful for my abundant facial hair; however growing one can be a rather arduous task for some. In the end, after weeks of cultivating seeds of manliness upon chiseled cheeks of testosterone, a patchy beard can steal every manpoint in a single glance. In this proposal, I will be devising an expedient measure for rapid beard growth.

Behold! The Sneeze-able Beard:

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Now, I do not profess to be a doctor or play one on TV, but I feel like a legitimate solution could soon bring this theory into reality. I plan to develop a solution that will be able to increase male facial hair growth with every natural sneeze. Finasteride or dutasteride steroids will be injected into the male’s skin though the release patch temporarily adhered to the skin. Over time the body will build up a natural tolerance to DHT, a testosterone byproduct, which will promote a beard friendly environment. The second stage of patches will be an isolator that will seal the chemicals into the follicles of hair themselves, much like forensic science utilizes drug analysis, I will retro engineer this principle to create Super Hair. From that point, a third patch regimen will allow for the culmination of the triggering growth to come from the normal sneeze. Ideally, the male facial scalp will be saturated with Super Hair follicles, bursting from the roots, seeking release. Therefore, a sneeze will provide a proper force, from a physics standpoint, serving as a catalyst of freeing the hair and enhancing the bushiness of one’s beard.

Many tests are still pending as the first string of candidates went bald. But don’t worry, they’re also sterile now so they can’t pass on the mutation.

An expense for science.

-The Falcon

Welcome

Greetings gifted follower. If you have stumbled upon this fountain of knowledge, you are one of the privileged few of the sacred generation. In days to come I will invite you to join me in the free flowing stream of consciousness that exists in the brain of The Falcon. I intend to use this portal as a chance enlighten those who have fallen from social circles, been stuck by The Man, and probably a following of lame hipster wannabes. 

The Falcon's laboratory is dedicated to highly experimental research that defies convention. Some may write it off as a waste of humanity's time, or perhaps just the ramblings of a madman. ...But, to you few believers, you who have faith in the cause of redeeming inspiration from the bowels of society, you will be saved from yourselves. I intend to spell out numerous experiments, tests, and operations that will save humanity from the mundane by using unorthodox and highly theoretical principles of "science."

Ultimately my aspirations may be nothing more than symbols of text on a server somewhere in the North American continent. However, if one pupil learns to defy reason and gain a new sense of logic, my task will be complete.

I thank you for your time.

-The Falcon