Colin Powell

Colin Powell was a little strange, but he was a good guy.

Colin Luther Powell (April 5, 1937 – October 18, 2021) was a cheerful colored man who showed up at various times to dispense useful advice. It was never clear exactly where he came from or how he got in your house, but the advice was usually moderately welcome.

Powell would rarely advise you on major life issues, such as whether to take a promotion in another city or whether to kill your wife. However, if you were having trouble installing a chin-up bar, you could expect a visit from Colin Powell.

Facts about Colin Powell

He really knows how to carve a bird.

Last Thanksgiving, my grandpa was just about to carve up the turkey, when all of a sudden Colin Powell walked in from the kitchen and said "No, no, no. You're doing it all wrong." Then he took the knife and schooled us all on the art of poultry carving. "Wiggle the drumstick to locate the joint." "Don't try to saw through the bone or you're just going to make a big mess." It was the most succulent serving of turkey I've ever had.

He had an encyclopedic knowledge of Fallout 3.

Sometimes, when I'm playing Fallout 3, Colin Powell would show up in my room and say something like, “You know, the ‘Here and Now’ perk seems like a good deal now, but when you consider the level cap, it's only going to hurt you in the long run.”

Thanks, Colin Powell!

He enjoys scrambled eggs.

For those without comedic tastes, the so-called experts at Wikipedia have an article about Colin Powell.

Once, I was sitting down for some scrambled eggs, and looked over, and there was Colin Powell, behind the couch. I told him I really didn't need any egg-related advice, and he said “No, no, I just like scrambled eggs. Are you going to finish those?”

Actually, I was going to finish those, but I shared them with him because he'd been so helpful last week when I was overfeeding my fish and he showed me how to unclog my filter.

His advice is occasionally bad.

Hermes helped me look for the WMDs, but he didn't find anything either.

A couple months ago, Colin Powell told me there were weapons of mass destruction hidden in my couch. Now that got me pretty worried. I mean me and my buddies can move around a lot when we're playing Wii and what if all that motion causes a warhead filled with nerve gas to suddenly explode?

Well, I tore that couch apart looking for them, but all I found was $2.65 in change and a condom wrapper. I don't trust Colin Powell to deliver WMD-related advice anymore.

Also, this isn't exactly "bad" advice, per se, but I hate it when Colin Powell gives me porn-related suggestions. Like, I'll be sitting in my room looking at suicidegirls.com, and I'll look over in the corner, and Colin Powell will be there, and he'll say, “You know, you can get all that stuff for free from /rs/ on 4chan.”

I guess it saves me a few dollars, but it's a pretty uncomfortable situation.

I think he might not actually be black.

One time, Colin Powell showed up to teach me that it's easier to light a cigarette facing into the wind than with my back to it. Then, I offered him a Newport, and he looked at me like I was out of my fucking mind.

Also, one time he went to use my shower after helping me change my oil, and I swear I could hear him whistling a Barry Manilow tune.

So I think he might just be a white guy walking around in blackface. That would be pretty culturally insensitive, but I'd forgive him. After all, now I can smoke on even the windiest days!

Sometimes he can be a little annoying.

I think the fact that he showed up to give out advice makes him feel like he can just show up and start talking about anything, whether you're interested or not. Like this one time, I'm at the pub, and he shows up and tells me to try this little microbrew. It was actually pretty good. But then, he starts complaining and complaining about how these guys at his job made life tough for him. Apparently, he had a really important presentation and these guys at work gave him some facts to present that weren't true. After about ten minutes, I'm just thinking, jeez, just let it go, man.

His first name means “large intestine”.

It's true. I looked it up. I really don't know why any parent would name their child after the large intestine.

But, all in all, that's one of the more insignificant mysteries about Colin Powell. I'd rather know how he keeps getting in my bathroom. But, to his credit, the shaving cream he recommended really does give me a closer shave.