My Life as a Walking Series of Awkward Situations

I love writing. I like blogging. I like to think I do it well. But the truth is, I sound much smarter on paper than I do in real life. That's because I can pick and choose what I write. In life, I have no such filter. I have a disturbing tendency to say what I think. Plus, I'm rather large (a big, burly 6'4", and a hefty one at that). On top of that, my motor skills are limited. This makes me quite awkward.

(no, this isn't me. I make this guy look cool)

Realistically, I could list awkward moments starting from my birth to five minutes ago, but my memory doesn't serve me quite that well. So I will just tell you about a few of the most recent standouts.

Situation #1 - Waist-High in Whatsit

I served a Mormon mission in Brazil, where I spent most my time in the northernmost states of Pará and Amapá, an area where the sewage system runs above ground (I can't speak for the rest of the country, I honestly don't know). In northern Brazil, it also rains almost every day. There are two seasons in northern Brazil; summer (which is very hot and rainy) and winter (which is very rainy and hot). One day, after a particularly rainy lunch, my companion and I were walking some sisters home from lunch. We were used to jumping puddles, but today there were full ponds of poo to cross. When we came to a certain, large puddle, one of the sisters sarcastically suggested I "step on that white rock." The said "rock" was actually a piece of styrofoam, and I knew that. But I thought there was something to support it beneath it. So I stepped on it and immediately fell into filthy rainwater and human excrement. Feces.

I walked to our apartment cussing under my breath, whereupon I threw away my pants and shirt, left my shoes out to dry, and took a long shower. I was in no mood to preach. What's important to note, however, is that my companion and I were teaching a nice family, and we had an appointment set up with them for that evening. As nice as this family was, they had their grandmother living with them, and she hated us. This isn't all that rare an occurence, but she downright loathed us. We're talking Westboro Baptist-style hate. She'd already doused us in a couple of liquids (milk and this liquid vitamin that tasted like combination of urine and butterscotch) and even pulled a knife on us. So as much as she hated us, I hated her.

After much persuasion, my companion and I nervously went to go teach. And true to form, after about 2 minutes, she doused us in ear medication, getting some in my eye. I got up and walked out, screaming obscenities. I may have overreacted, but to be fair, I had just fallen into human waste. After a minute of coaxing, my companion (ever loyal and the voice of reason) got me to settle down enough to finish the lesson, under the condition that he would do the talking and hurry it along. After the lesson, I told him we were done for the day. He obliged.

Situation #2 - Suppose it's a Suppository

Another mission story. Fast forward toward the end of my mission. I was within a month of going home. I had been plagued with illness from the beginning, but I had made it this far, and I was doing pretty good, all things considered. Until I noticed blood in the toilet. Note: I am not a woman. It is important to note this, as it ties into the story later. So, considering I wasn't on my period, and considering my diet was high fiber (rice and beans every day for the past two years), I called the doctor to see why there was blood in my stool. He said it may be an ulcer, and gave me the name of a medication to buy at the pharmacy. He gave me the specific name, and I wrote it down carefully. He warned me, however, that it was a suppository. So going into the pharmacy, I was already not very enthused.

After I made my purchase, I returned home, opened the package, and... it was in a tube. What kind of suppository was this supposed to be? I exchanged confused looks with my companion who said, "I'm not going to help you apply it, dude." I imagined sticking a tube up my rectum, and said "I don't want your help!" and called the doctor back. I regaled him with what had just happened. After a thoughtful pause, he said, "It sounds as though they sold you vaginal cream."

Now I was truly angry. I called my mission president and the first thing I said was, "President, I'm gonna ask you something, and I want you to be honest. Do I look like I have a vagina?" After a brief explanation, president was laughing at my misfortune. In a final interview before I left Brazil, he told me "Elder Orgill, I know you've been through a lot, but I just want to let you know... I've really enjoyed it." And he laughed his contagious laugh.

Situation #3 - Dark Times

As I've mentioned, I work at Subway. And I like to think I'm a pretty decent Sandwich Artist. But I'm just as awkward at work as I am anywhere else.

I was closing with a certain coworker one night. We share a similar sense of humor, which makes it so much more enjoyable. We talk about things as complex as relationships or as simple as The Dark Crystal. She's fun to work with.

On this particular night, we were discussing out mutual love of Dave Chappelle, especially his too-short-lived Chappelle's Show. We were quoting the famous "Charlie Murphy Hollywood Stories: Rick James" sketch back and forth. She had suddenly stopped talking when I yelled "Darkness!" (Rick James' nickname for Charlie). I turned around and saw a small group of black women entering the store. Dammit. I don't know whether or not they heard us, as they were very nice and fun to talk to, but it felt incredibly uncomfortable all the same. I mean, what are the chances? Black people in Utah?

Situation #4 - Sometimes I Can Be Retarded

Did that last Subway story make you cringe in discomfort? Wait till you hear this one.

One day, we had just finished serving some young men with Downs Syndrome, accompanied by a caregiver. I was working on making a sandwich for another young man, and had just finished making my third or fourth mistake when I yelled "I'm so retarded!" I instantly realized what I had done, and was met by a sour look from the caregiver sitting in the corner.

I went back to the fridge, presumably to catch my cool (actually, to sob as I ate my stockpile of meatball subs). I felt bad, but when I use a word like "retarded," I don't use it to refer to the disabled or handicapped. It's the same way I use the word "gay" to describe something unfortunate or unseemly or somehow otherwise regrettable. I mean no offense to my homosexual friends by it, and they know it. But for some crazy reason, "retarded" is taboo. And that's just retarded.

Situation #5 - Thpeech Pathology

The following is a Facebook exchange, posted on a friend's wall, for the world to see;

Friend's wife: Love you.
Friend's sister-in-law: No "I"?
Friend's wife: No, no "I"
Me: What she meant to say was "Brent love you." And that's just bad grammar.
Friend's wife: My mom's a speech pathologist, I'm allowed to have bad grammar as long as my mom's not around.
Me: Yeah, and thpeak with a lithp, haha. My thithter'th a thpeech pathologitht, too.
Friend's sister-in-law: Her sister has a lisp.
Friend's wife: My sister has a lisp.
Friend's wife: Speak of the devil.
Me: ... Well, don't I just feel like a giant douche. I'm going to go into hiding for awhile.

Really? This one seems very ironic. I mean, a speech pathologist that has a daughter with a lisp is kind of like a firefighter having a kid that's a pyromaniac.

I assure you, this post could go on for days. But I'm done embarrassing myself today. I'm going to go to the basement and weep into my pillow for a while.

Intelligence for Dummies

In 1991, Dan Gookin wrote an instructional book called DOS for Dummies, and ever since, many other titles added to the For Dummies catalog, ranging from crosswords to chess to Norwegian cuisine (that last one may not exist, but it probably will someday. There's gotta be some idiot who wants to learn how to make lutefisk). I myself have one about screenwriting that I have yet to read. Of course, by "dummies," they mean the general American public. But somehow, Obscure French Films for the General American Public just doesn't have the same ring to it. Each book features a triangular-headed little dummy that looks like this:

But that doesn't seem like a very accurate picture of the typical American, now does it? I believe these guys better represent Americans:

(they do wobble, but they don't fall down)

As many of these that have been supposedly written for stupid people, I find it hard to believe no one's wrote one on intelligence, or at least feigning intelligence. If there's one thing I know, it's how feign intelligence. The following is a guide for you, my fellow Americans.

First things first. If you want to seem smart, there are a couple of things you must not do to appear less stupid. You must;

a) avoid wearing anything with the Hatchet Man or anything associated with Psychopathic Records on it. With all due respect to juggalos (and I say this from the outside looking in, so maybe I just don't get it), if you really want to look smarter, please avoid this. It just comes across as tacky. It's like wearing a pot leaf symbol to a job interview. If you have any hats or clothing with the Hatchet Man on it, gather them up and burn them immediately. If you have a tattoo, the same rule applies.

b) stop watching Dane Cook. He takes potentially funny material and makes it less funny. Consequently, if you have any potential for intelligence, watching his act will greatly decrease any likelihood of you ever developing any intellect or a winning personality. Then again, if you listen to Dane Cook to begin with, the only thing you probably read anyway is the back of cereal boxes.

Now that we've determined what to avoid doing, here are a few things you can do to fake it when your brainpower just doesn't cut it.

Wordpower
There is no denying the power of words. Anybody can speak, but if you know how to really use words, you will appear much smarter. People often confuse articulation with intelligence. First, engage in a conversation about current events (note; do not talk about the latest Twilight movie). Then, at opportune times, stroke your chin and say "indeed" as though you actually care what the other person is saying. Also, try to use big/complicated words. If you don't know any, here are some of my favorites you can borrow (also note; be sure you are using these words correctly, otherwise you'll just look dumber):
indubitably - undoubtedly; kind of like indeed, but harder to pronounce.
loquacious - talkative. I'm not gonna lie to you, the opportunity to use this one doesn't come up very often.
onomatopoeia - the naming of a thing or action by the vocal imitation of the sound associated with it (think See 'n Say, i.e. "the cow goes 'moo'"). This one comes up even less, and if you can use it without sounding like your trying to come up with an excuse to use it, you deserve a medal.

Multilingualism
As in English, so it is in other languages. If you can speak two or more languages, people seem to think you are incredible. The more languages you speak, the smarter you are (seem). I speak English and Portuguese and a limited amount of Spanish, so I seem smart and a half. But I realize not everyone can speak multiple languages, to I'll give you a few simple words and phrases you can use in your day-to-day lives:
guero (Spanish; pronounced "wear-oh," with the slightest roll off the r; guera feminine) - white or fair-skinned person
l'chaim (Hebrew; pronounced "luh-[loogie-hocking sound]aye-im") - to life!
hajima (Korean; pronounced "haw-jee-maw") - don't do that/knock it off
Kashyyyk (Star Wars Universe; pronounced "ka-sheek;" also known as Wookiee Planet C) - the planet where Wookiees live, but not Chewbacca.

Appearance
For those of you who have been indoctrinated to believe otherwise by shows like Barney & Friends (no wonder we're so stupid), appearance does, in fact, matter. That's the first thing people notice about you, and as such, you will be judged accordingly. If you want to seem smart, you must look it. There are many variants of dressing the part. Facial hair can seem smart when properly groomed (males only). But for those of you like me who cannot grow any credible facial hair, the most important part is... the glasses. People see me and assume I know a thing or two about math and/or science. I don't, but that's not the important thing. The important thing is that people think you know it. That's what this is all about, after all.

If, after all this, you still struggle to make yourself seem smarter, know this; you are not alone. There are alternatives. Find a support group. Hang out with dumber people. Or, you can just learn to accept it and go back to listening to Dane Cook.

Music That Will Make Your Ears Scream

In my last post, I talked about how music has dropped in quality. Well, at the same time, it has raised in quantity. For every Beatle, we have about twenty Hansons that pop up on the radar just long enough to make ridiculous amounts of money and fade into obscure pop culture references. That's a lot of crappy music to be made. A lot of crappy music. I can say it again, if it will help get the message across. And you know how I can tell when music is going to suck? Aside from sonic qualities, lyrical prowess, and sex appeal, there are two main ways you know a band is going to suck;

1) They are called "the next Beatles." Way to jump the shark, guys. This never works. It didn't work for Oasis, it didn't work for The Arctic Monkeys (who?), and it sure as hell didn't work for The Jonas Brothers. There will never be another Beatles, so stop trying.

2) The band describes themselves s "indie." For those of you not in the know, "indie" refers "independent label," meaning they are currently unsigned to any major record label or they're just on an unknown, unimportant, underground label. Of all the genres you can use to describe what your band plays, you're going with indie? The only people you're going to impress with that are hipsters, and nobody likes a hipster. So you play "indie music," huh? Basically, that tells me you can't think of a better way to describe your boring, whiny, three-cord, pre-teen poetry. I'm going to be listening to Metallica. Or is that too mainstream for you? It is? Good. Stay away from me.

So, we know that there's crappy music. It's just a fact of life. But what music is the worst of it is completely subjective. Most people I've met like "We Didn't Start the Fire," by Billy Joel. I hate it. I heard it every day in my dance class in the sixth grade (or maybe it was my singing class). I hated that class. I hated the sixth grade. And with heavy repetition, even good songs can quickly become bad.

But I can tell you subjectively the worst five songs ever made using objective reasoning. These songs are based on tone, overall message, and the messenger/artist. So, although there may be songs with worse sonic quality (such as Rebecca Black's "Friday" or anything by Ace of Base), these songs are rationally worse.

5) "Baby," by Justin Bieber
I know it seems easy to start the list off with Justin Bieber. And believe me, it is. But just so you don't think I'm big bully, just read a sample of the lyrics; "My first love broke my heart for the first time / and I'm like, 'baby, baby, baby, no!' I thought you'd always be mine." No, Justin Bieber. You aren't in love with this girl. You're only 17. Making you 15 or 16 when you wrote this piece of crap. Plus, you sound like a chick.

4) "God Bless the USA," by Lee Greenwood
I am a patriot. I love America. And Mr. Greenwood's awful voice aside, I even like patriotic songs. But this is like a jingoistic tribute to everything from the grounds we walk on to the sky above us (because, ya know, the sky above our country is way better than the sky over a socialist country like Denmark). And did I mention he made a Canadian version? 'Cause he did. It's like "I'm proud to be Canadian, between shifts of being American." What a tool.

3) "Christmas Shoes," be New Song
I can't say it any better than Patton Oswalt, so let me paraphrase. "There's a guy in line. He's a little cranky on Christmas. God looks down and sees this. 'Somebody in a bad mood on my son's birthday? Give that kid's mom cancer, make sure he's in front of him in line, make him seven cents short for the shoes, this guy will by them, then he'll be in a good mood.'" Can't argue that logic.

2) "Jesus, Take the Wheel," by Carrie Underwood
Basically, this song is about giving up. Yeah, I get it. You've had it hard. You know who else has? Everyone. There are kids starving in Africa. God helps those who help themselves. So get up and do things for yourself. And while you're at it, why not make a small donation to feed those starving children in Ethiopia? Brownie points.

1) "Miracles," by Insane Clown Posse
A horrorcore rap group that sings about stabbing people in the butt and sprays the audience with an off-brand soft drink. They might be hilarious, if their fans, affectionately called "juggalos" (a portmanteau of "gigolo" and "juggler," because clowns sometimes juggle, get it? Get it?...) didn't take themselves so seriously. So after all the juggling and butt-stabbing, they clearly made the logical decision and wrote "Miracles," which is either the most elaborate parody song ever or the most idiotic song about God ever (spoiler alert; it's the latter). I'm a spiritual guy, but this is four and a half minutes dedicated to not knowing how things work. Apparently, their way of inciting intelligent debate is accusing scientists of lying.

Movies are Way Better Than Real Life

Everybody loves movies. Kids love movies. Adults love movies. Geriatric old folks like Matlock (and, I suppose, movies). Nothing closes the gap between generations like movies, I would argue even moreso than music, simply because music is devolving. I'm not going to argue this, just accept it. We've gone from The Beatles to The Jonas Brothers. With a few exceptions, modern rock music has become a joke set on repeat, diminishing in quality with every new band. But movies have already hit their highs and their lows. You'll find as many great movies from each generation as stinkers (which I've already admitted I love).

So I find it incredibly annoying when I'll occasionally hear about how "impossible" movies are. Of course they're not realistic; they're movies. So, you're telling me that if I spill an energy drink on a hot tub, it won't take me back in time? That's exactly what I'm telling you. Nor do I believe a robot will be sent back in time to assassinate the mother of a revolutionary who leads the crusade against the machine uprising. But this doesn't make necessarily make them worse than real life. In fact, I would argue that it makes them much better. Here are just a few reasons why;

1) Are you stupid? Don't worry, that comes across as humorous on the big screen.

2) Are you fat? Don't worry, you're probably the best friend. Plus, you're hilarious.

3) Do you have some disfigurement or some kind of debilitating disease? Don't worry, you'll overcome those adversities and somehow manage to become the most popular guy in town...

4) ...unless this is a horror flick, in which case you're probably the killer. But don't worry, I don't blame you. Society has put you in a fragile spot, and you're just reacting like any normal, depraved murderer.

5) Are you in love with an impossibly attractive guy/girl? Don't worry, you'll probably end up with them. And if not with them, then with somebody else of equal attractiveness.

6) Are you gay? Don't worry, even if you're not accepted, you're hilarious (but be careful around the fat guy, you'll be competing with him for the laughs).

7) Do you ever get sick of the monotony of your hum-drum, boring, everyday life? Don't worry, you'll probably have to foil a terrorist plot or fight ninjas or robots or aliens or something.

8) All your conflicts are resolved in an average of 2 hours (unless there's a sequel).

Life is Like a Palindrome

I'm just gonna dive right into it; sometimes life sucks, but you gotta find reasons to keep living and ways to enjoy it. And although family and friends are a good support system, you gotta make your own fun. What you do with your life comes down on one person, and that person is you. No matter how good a friend, how influential a colleague, it's on you to live your life. Here are four things I can take solace in that make me happy.

1) Movies. Everyone enjoys a good movie, but I also enjoy really bad movies. Not so much that "trying-to-be-good" bad movie, but the real, unapolgetic crap. I love B movies. They're a perfect combination of kitsch and campy, often laced with gratuitous, over-the-top violence. And I really love the garbage Syfy puts out; Raptor Island and Planet Raptor (both pretty self-explanatory), High Plains Invaders (think pre-Cowboys & Aliens, minus the budget and star power), the previously mentioned, immortal Sharktopus (which shall forever be one of my favorites), and the upcoming - wait for it - Piranhaconda! The only thing I enjoy more than actually watching these movies are the promotional posters. I think it's due in part to the campiness, but I also find novelty in the fact that by simply looking at the poster, you know all you need to know about the movie. For example, Forrest Gump is an Academy Award-winning movie with brilliant performances by all actors involved. But the promotional poster is Tom Hanks, in character, sitting on a bench. Big woop. But with Syfy and other B movies, well... just look;

(I wonder what this is about?)

2) Food. I enjoy all types. Who doesn't? But with so much Italian and Mexican to go around, I often wonder why Arab food isn't more popular. I guess it's one of those things that doesn't sound great on paper (mostly because most Americans can't pronounce them), but it tastes great. My first exposure to it was through a good Syrian friend. Then I got a second exposure to it in Brazil, in fast food form. Sfiha and kibbeh made to order? Yes, please!

(I'm not sure who Habib is, but I believe the man wearing a fez winking at you is Muhammed the Profiteer*, who delivers falafel to me and my friend Eskimo Bob)

3) Writing. Well, probably not very shocking. I mean, I have a blog that I keep pretty well updated. What you might not know is I dream of publishing novels. Good novels. Original novels. Morbidly humorous novels. I've even toyed with pen names. I was thinking something like Scott Gonzales, but we'll talk about that another day.

(although, obviously, nothing I write can ever be as good this self-help book featuring some James Van Der Beek-Zack Morris hybrid and a guy rocking jheri curls)

4) White trash culture. I don't mean to sound condescending, but I really don't know how else to put it. For someone who spends much of his time making of hardcore conservatives, I spend a lot of time bumping elbows with them. I enjoy rodeos - try telling me the majority of that audience isn't corn-fed FOX News Republican. I went to my first demolition derby recently, and I loved it. I love those down-home ma-and-pa diners. Steak and eggs with a side of grits. You're not likely to find any Keith Olbermanns here (you may spot a Hunter S. Thompson, but they tend to keep to themselves) Oh, and I like guns. I don't really use them for anything productive. I don't hunt. The thought of waking up at the buttcrack of dawn to sit and wait for something to show up to shoot sounds boring and frustrating. But boy, they sure are fun to shoot. Reach down from Heaven, Charlton Heston! High-five me!

(I guess even the KKK is raising breast cancer awareness these days)

*The profiteering Muhammed is the intellectual property of Eskimo Bob and eskimoboblives.com, and in no way relates to Muhammed the prophet of the Muslim faith

The Thing Nightmares are Made of...

So, I like movies. A lot. They're kind of a big part of my life, and have been since I first saw Dumb and Dumber. It started within the belly (wherein stored the most laughs, you see), and worked its way up into my skull to nest in my brain. Movies play a role in some form or another in my everyday life. In writing, I like to sometimes imagine how my stories would play out on film. Sometimes I reimagine certain events as if they were a motion picture. And I often wonder how my life would be as a biopic (probably really boring, what with the lack of sex, death, and action - but, I digress).

I also have respect for the people who make movies possible. Being a writer, I really respect the writers/directors that came up from nothing and made a name for themselves, like Quentin Tarantino and Kevin Smith. I admire (and kind of envy) the actors; not just the big A-list celebrities like Brad Pitt (who is both handsome and talented, which kind of makes me want to hate him) and rising stars like Shia Lebeouf (who is fugly and not talented at all, accept for in minor roles), but the stars with both good work ethic and credibility, but still remain (or at least seem to remain) down-to-earth, like Christoph "Hans Landa" Waltz.

(he plays such a charming villain, plus he looks like a Presidential candidate - but maybe I'm just being redundant. too bad he's foreign born, though. I'd vote for him)

Yes, there are many great directors, but I've recently discovered John Carpenter. He's well-known for his horror films, both good (Halloween, The Fog) and bad (Halloween III, Ghosts of Mars). But his (arguably) best is The Thing.

The movie stars Kurt Russell (a frequent John Carpenter collaborator), Wilford Brimley (yes, that Wilford Brimley), and Keith David (sound familiar? no? probably not, but I'm sure you've seen him in something. he's just one of those actors). It's about a group of American researchers in Antarctica who fall prey to an alien being. Sound familiar? Of course it does. Did I mention it's a shape-shifting alien? Still not impressed? Then you haven't seen the movie. This Thing is terrifying!

(insert muffled scream/dryheave sound here)

And if that's not enough for you, to give you some perspective, this movie was made in 1982. The special effects were latex and corn syrup with puppetry and stop-motion effects. That's way more impressive than James Cameron's Avatar! Here's a fun idea, watch it with a date, and enjoy them clinging to you for nearly 2 hours. As a bonus, if one of you poops yourself, and you manage to stay together, you know it's meant to be.

(also, if he or she doesn't poop their pants, it speaks volumes about their colon control, which may also mean that your meant to be)

Seriously, I've read and watched some pretty creepy stuff. H.P. Lovercaft is tells macabre tales that also screw with your mind. Black Sabbath has sung songs about Satan in first person. Shows like Silence of the Lambs or Dexter have you rooting for a serial killer, for crying out loud! But The Thing is the creepiest creep to which standard creepiness is measured... or at least it should be.

This Week Bites

So, first off, a true story. This past week we celebrated my niece's second brithday. My whole family was over for the weekend (apparently, turning 2 is a pretty big deal). As we were left my parents' house for the party, my brother left with his kids with me trailing behind. My nephew obviously didn't know it was me following them, as he pointed out to his father "That white boy is trying to catch us."

So there you have it. Even to my own family, I'm "that white boy." I heard it a lot in Brazil, but I've been called "white boy" since high school - ever since other white people started calling me that. It's often prefaced by a descriptive term, usually something like large or awkward. But never great. And why shouldn't I be "great white"?

Probably 'cause I'm not an awesome shark.

(not pictured; me)

It's shark week, everybody! One of my favorite times of the year! And why is that?

Did you not hear the title? Shark week! We can break it down, if you still don't understand. Shark, being a big, carnivorous fish, and week, being a period of seven days. Seven days of big, carnivorous fish! If watching large, aquatic predators kill and eat seals and other small creatures isn't enough to hook any man, I don't know what is. But okay, we'll pretend that's not enough. Here are are a couple of fun, family-friendly activities to help you get the most out of your week.

I know what you're thinking; well, I've already got my butt-groove warmed up on the couch and my stockpile of meatball subs in the fridge, but what am I supposed to do in the wee hours of the morning when I can't find any shark-themed shows? Honestly, the only good shark movie out there is Jaws. But that shouldn't stop you from watching that crap Syfy puts out. They're all pretty bad, but if you want epic bad, I suggest Sharktopus. Its bad-ness goes beyond just the shark-vs.-man genre, but it's a good place to start. To give you an impression of how bad it is, its biggest stars are Hector Jimenez (most famous for his portrayal as Esqueleto in Nacho Libre) and Eric Roberts (most famous for being Julia Roberts' brother). The plot is pretty self-explanatory; a half-shark, half-octopus (genetically engineered by the U.S. Navy for combat by the morally bankrupt Eric Roberts, just in case you were wondering) goes on a rampage off (and on) the coast of Santa Monica, California. Apparently, the sharktopus can use its tentacles to walk on land, 'cause, you know, that just makes sense. Oh, and it can impale you with its tentacles, too.

(nah, dude, it's completely different from Jaws... except for the poster... and the plot, kinda)

Now you're probably thinking my meatball subs are all gone. What shark-themed foods can I make for me and my family (and by family I mean cat)? That is a swell question. I wouldn't recommend going out and buying shark meat, because I don't know what it tastes like, and shark fin soup is rather costly, assuming you can find it. How about some shark-shaped kid's meals? I think you can find fish sticks or chicken nuggets. And if not that, be creative. Make a sandwich and try cutting it into a shark shape yourself (or get your mother's assistance).

There are a number of other things you can do, assuming the resources are available to you. You can visit the aquarium You can visit the beach (although, after Sharktopus, you're probably not going to want to go the beach). But, chances are, if you're like me, you'll spend much of shark week watching sharks on TV... where they belong.