The Metaphor of the Pet Fish

Try to pull a life lesson or sophisticated metaphor out of this:

At the beginning of this semester my brother agreed to take care of three guppies when a girl he hardly knew said her landlord wouldn't let her have them. So, we, or should I say I, ended up caring for these fish. I kept their tank clean, changed their water, fed them, and did all the normal fish care essentials. Unfortunately, I had to leave for winter break. While I gorged myself in holiday dinners and moped around my parent's house, the fish were back at school, all alone. I told a friend of mine to feed them and water my plants, and thought not much of it.

Then I returned. One of the fish was dead. Another was doing strange acrobatics and water Tae Bo that led me to believe he was also near the end of his days with us. A few days later he died. They were of course given their due respect with a proper fish burial, involving a net and a toilet. So now I have one fish. He has remained chipper, and one might even say "plucky." He eats well, swims well, and seems to enjoy being the king of his domain. 

So I suppose my question is this: Which fish are you? 

Are you like my last remaining fish who held on with faith until after the master returned and still lives in harmony on his fish throne?

or

Are you the fish who died before his return?

or

Are you the fish who held out long enough to see the master, do some stupid tricks to either save yourself or impress me, and then die shortly thereafter?

All Hail Lord Obama!

Well, it's finally over. We can now sing praises to our new King. Obama the mighty savior of the USA! Now we won't have to pay for gas, the financial crisis will disappear, we won't have to pay for healthcare or mortgages and we will all work for the new national civilian defense force. If that weren't enough we will now have no sadness. Every single person is guaranteed absolute happiness through master Obama's new proposals.

Our mighty new Emperor will bring prosperity to all. He is leader. We all serve him with one heart and mind. He knows best. We will all get everything we ever wanted for our birthdays, and other holidays. A new holiday will be added to the calender: Lord Obama's birthday.

Your tap water will turn into your favorite drink. Your refrigerator will be automatically refilled with your favorite food, courtesy of Obama's intangible, but real love for all of us. You will become more physically fit by watching his speeches. Your yard work will do itself. You will receive twice your salary for half the work. You can have 27 wives or 32 husbands regardless of sex (you can also have both options). 

We will party all day wading in a velvet sea. And this could be our new anthem.

Paris

One thing that I've always found interesting: Every woman wants to go to Paris.  It is like the world's Mecca for women to go to find themselves. I've had a lot of my lady friends go there recently. And, I have nothing against the city, but I get very skeptical about its mystique and amazingness when almost every ridiculously overt and entirely unmitigated and trusting endorsement comes from the mouths of women. And, generally they call it wonderful and exciting before they even set foot there.

The truth is, Paris is kinda cool, but very dirty. There are great museums, shops, gardens (but you can find that in other parts of France minus the filth, sleaze, and weirdness). I just think we should broaden our horizons a bit. Women need to stop letting their fantasies control them. Paris is the metrosexual son of King Priam without cajones that started the Trojan war by kidnapping Helen. Paris is the daughter of the Hiltons who has no taste or class, and no intelligence. Almost all the cities named after Paris in the US suck (like Paris Idaho). And Paris in France is only a little better than all those aforementioned Parises.  

Picture found here.