Death Rays and "We have no idea..."

I'm not a news junkie. Not by any stretch of the imagination. I like skimming headlines, reading the first two paragraphs of a story that catches my eye, then moving on. It's not ADD, or ADHD, and I'm not lazy. I just don't like reading depressing stories, tales of corrupt politicians, frontline exploits of a war that never should have been, and whatnot. It's heart-breaking, and we've all got too much on our plates right now to keep shoveling that down our pipes. So I don't ignore it, but I don't dwell on it either. I know what's going on, but my having detailed knowledge of every little shred of information will not improve the situations, so I keep my level of interest to the maximum that I'm comfortable with.

But then something pops up that just strikes me as funny, insane, stupid, or a mad scientist's amalgam of all of the above. The first story that caught my eye was found on Yahoo. It was written by Brett Michael Dykes and posted on September 29. The headline reads, and I quote, "Swanky new Vegas hotel's 'death ray' proves inconvenient for some guests." OK, color me tickled...

Apparently, the new Vdara hotel in Sin City is a concave-shaped building whose exterior is all glass. These two facts, coupled with the oh-so-brutal Nevada sun, creates this "sort of magnifying-glass effect" that has burned guests in the pool area and melted plastic. Anticipating this possibility beforehand, the designers placed a film over the glass. It hasn't helped. So here's my question: Seriously? No one thought that placing a giant magnifying glass in the freakin' Nevada desert might create a small-scale Death Star and fry us poor ants looking for some quiet in between the all-you-can-eat buffets and progressive slots? OK, they put a "film" over the glass...big whoop. Isn't that like using cling wrap to look at a solar eclipse?

To compensate, the hotel has put out large umbrellas in the pool area until they can fix the problem. I say don't fix the problem. I say use it. You've got a "death ray" that can melt plastic, and the whole thing beams right down into a pool. I say that's a good start for some great outdoor cooking. Can you imagine how many lobsters and shrimp they could fit in that pool? Add some pulled pork and ribs stations around the edge of the pool area, LOTS of beer, and enough salad fixin's to choke Harvey, and you've got one helluva party. And, bonus!, no one would complain about Darth Vdara zapping their skin off.

Or maybe I should just stop talking...

The other thing that caught my attention this week was a commercial I saw on TV. Now, usually I don't pay heed to what's on during commercial breaks. Like most of you, I find commercials tedious at best. But while I'm sitting there waiting for my show to come back on, I hear this commercial for some new drug. (Don't know the name, don't care.) It's your standard "this is why we're so amazing, and these are the NUMEROUS side effects we cause, but use us anyway, please?" drug commercial. But here's the kicker. At one point the narrator actually used the phrase, "Fukytal (name changed cuz it's funnier) is thought to work by..." Um, 'scuse me? It's "thought" to work? You spend millions of dollars developing this drug, getting it through the FDA, marketing it, and you don't KNOW how it works? What, exactly, was your testing like?

"Here, Bob, (sorry, Dr. Bob) try this pill."
"Tastes like an M&M."
"OK, try this one."
"Tic Tac?"
"Very good. And this one?"
"Haven't had this before, but all my problems are solved. How'd you do it?"
"I'm not sure, but I'm glad you ate the M&M first. Just in case."

I'm sorry, but if you're a pharmaceutical company developing new drugs that you expect us to buy and use continually, then please, for the love of whatever God you pray to, do not go on national television and tell us you don't know how it works. It's fine if you don't, just don't tell us that. I don't need to know how a cow became the porterhouse I wolfed down yesterday to know that I enjoyed it. Consequently, I don't need to be told that you don't know how your own drug works. Lie to me. Tell me it works by putting rainbows in my head and making everything smell like Chunky Monkey ice cream. I'll know you're lying, but I'll accept it. You tell me you don't know, and our relationship is over.

At least, that's how I think it works...

So for now, those are the two stories that have me entertained. More will come. They always do. If you've heard of any, please share. Include links if you can; I'm always looking for more ways to laugh. Aren't you?