Funniness Negates Wrongness
Friday, April 02, 2004
Midgets. They’re Not Just the Small Tootsie Rolls
Editor's note: Today's blog has been guest-written by our good buddy Jimmy (aka Adidajs)

Midgets. You’ve seen them on television programs, the cinema and, most often, in circuses. Verne Troyer is probably the most famous one at the moment thanks to his role as Mini-Me, the three-foot-something genetic creation of Dr. Evil, the arch nemesis/doppelganger of Austin Powers. Then there’s Gary Coleman, who’s not really a midget, but instead has some weird kidney disease that somehow affects his stature—isn’t biology nifty, kids? You might remember him from his recent campaign for Governor of California. Or his cameo as a security guard on a fairly-recent episode of The Simpsons. Personally, I know him best as his brief stint as one of the rarest Beanie Babies—Whatchootawkinboutwillis.
How does one make a midget?
Assuming we’re still not talking about Tootsie Rolls, whose recipe is proprietary, making a midget is somewhat easy. First, you conceive a baby. This may be done in a lab setting, but the bedroom and the backseat of a ’76 Pinto Grenada have been known to suffice. Then, you genetically alter said baby so that it’s pituitary gland produces not growth hormone, but rather makes Nerds, Runts and Everlasting Gobstoppers (which, incidentally, is why Willy Wonka keeps the Oompa-Loompas around). Congratulations, you have a baby with hypopituitarism. You’re very lucky, because only about 1 of every 10,000 people have this condition, so you practically have a collector’s item. Think about it—there are only about 25,000 more like your baby in the entire United States.

You’d think that with 25,000 of them, you’d see more midgets running about. But you don’t. But trust me, they’re out there. They’re just really hard to see because they easily hide behind things, waiting to jump out and frighten small children, just like anyone with a handicap. I’ve also discovered, based on empirical evidence gathered from Lord of the Rings that they like to live in caves or in hillsides. You never seem to see them living in your own neighborhood or apartment complex, mainly because they prefer abodes with circular doors, and unless you live in a place designed by Salvador Dali, you probably don’t have a house with a circular door.

In the middle ages, in addition to rats, midgets carried the bubonic plague, so be warned if they cough on you. Slightly less known was that midgets were also believed to hold the power to remove warts, as illustrated by this recipe from the March 1997 issue of Martha Stewart Living:
How to Remove Your Warts
Ingredients: One Midget (preferably ugly) (aside: as if there are any other kind)
One Pike
Instructions: Take your midget, impale on pike in the sunshine. As midget shrivels in the sunshine, so shall the wart. Expect results in 7-10 days. Dispose of midget. If you have several midgets, you can add two scoops of them to plain bran cereal and have a reasonable facsimile of Kellogg’s Midget Bran.

Midgets in public are a rare occurrence. If you see a midget try to catch them (they’re spry fellers) and rub their bellies. If they’ve been blessed with a sunny disposition, they may grant you a wish (I just wish for more midgets). Remember: UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES STICK YOUR FINGERS IN THEIR MOUTHS. They have a vicious bite (my neighbor in Tyler. Dr. Dailey once lost his thumb in a tragic midget accident). If you can’t catch them, at least try to follow them and find out where their pot of gold is hidden.

When my friends here in Gainesville, Florida (Home of the Gators—another mouth you shouldn’t stick your fingers in) heard midgets were coming to town to wrestle (or “wrassle”, as the backwoods Floridian calls it), we jumped at the chance. So, on Saturday night, we saddled up and headed out to a local country bar called 8 Seconds (a semi-humorous reference to the time it supposedly takes a hot girl to reject your advances, though I usually last at least ten). Once there, we lined up at the door, only to find that we were four hours early. To pass the time, we headed across the street to watch some NCAA action at a lovely (Gaelic for shit hole) Irish bar called Durty Nelly’s, which was named after some drunk and illiterate Irishman (as if there’s any other kind). Being that we were at an Irish bar, we kept a look out for leprechauns, hoping to

The game ended and we decided to sauntered over to 8 Seconds. As we approached, we caught glimpses here and there of what we thought might be midgets, but they can be so quick that unless you’re looking at the spot exactly where they appear they’ll disappear. (Who’d have thought that the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle would also apply to short people?). Finally, I met my first real-life midget, Pitbull, who seemed almost “normal”, except for the fact he came up to my diaphragm (well it was higher than my waist and lower than my chest, ok?). He showed us a picture of him with the Rock, a famous wrestler, who’s had some success in the cinema of late. As the wrasslin’ began we caught several short, but tough matches between POD and the terror Toad. POD fell out of the ring and started bleeding on his head, to which the announcer started screaming, “Midget Blood Has Been Spilled! Midget Blood Has Been Spilled!” (which, for some reason, reminds me of “The first transport is away!”) In the end, POD was victorious. We later caught Meatball, who weighs 2.5 regular midgets, fight Lil’ Killa from the Bronx. Lil’ Killa whipped his ass. Finally Pitbull Patterson entered the rink against John E. Fresh, who was wearing a gay University of Kentucky (bastards that kicked UofF in blacksketball a few times this year) jacket. He kept gesticulating toward his jacket, to which people retorted, “Fuck you Midget”. And really, who wouldn’t want to fuck a midget? We had an intermission, where midgets could pose with someone for a couple bucks. Initially I thought that our wrestling evening was over, but much to our relief they returned in all their fury. The “World’s Smallest Wrestler” Blixx started getting his ass beaten badly until all the wrestlers came out in a free-for-all, in which Blixx somehow won. Here are some pics from our evening. If I learned anything from this evening, I learned that midgets are people too…well, mostly (at least 2/5 a person) and midgets were created for our amusement. Just like all of the disabled people. God has a sense of humor and sometimes he lets us in on the joke. Just look at ‘em. You can’t help but giggle and laugh. All midgets should be in show business and history proves from the infallible films on the middle ages, where midgets are portrayed a jesters to modern-day Troyers and Pitbull Pattersons. Midgets no longer carry the plague, and they’ve all been spayed, so they’re fun for the whole family. To paraphrase Veruca Salt, I want a midget and I want it now. I wonder if they’re available on eBay…