I have been against the Stimulus check since day one. In fact, I was against it back in 2001. However, boy am I enjoying it. Below is a list of things I purchased with my Stimulus check.
I have no doubt that a Stimulus check does nothing for the economy. However, I was wrong in my assertion that a normal person (like me!) would only use it to pay off credit. I did pay off credit with my normal paycheck, but I couldn't have purchased any of the following without the Stimulus check. What does this say about the nature of the check?
Well, I would wager that it's evil by the Christian standard of the phrase. Take for instance the beer, the gambling, the canned Martini - but, I've said too much. See below. No particular order.
Stay at a Casino: 220
2 Bottles of Collins Mixer: 5
1 Bottle of Vodka: 11
1 Canned Martini: 3
1 Case of Corona: 25
1 Sixer of Heineken: 8
1 Can Sapporo: 3
Contact lenses: 20 (with voucher)
Dry Cleaning: 8
Coffee: 20
1 Jumbo Jack Meal: 5
1 Yogurt: 3
1 Order of Goat Cheese and Bacon Jalepenos: 9
2 Heinekens: 9
2 Grape Kneehighs: 10
Tip: 6
1 Coke: 4
1 Burger Meal at McMinnimins (spl?): 9
1 Wilted Spinach Salad: 9
1 House Salad: 5
1 Order of Fries: 2
1 Hour of Gambling: 100
1 12 Pack of Bud: 10
1 Baquet of Bread: 4
Fontina Cheese: 5
Butter: 4
Gas: 10
5 Packs of Cigarettes: 30
4 Pillows: 14
1 Taco Salad: 6
1 Coke: 3
1 Movie Rental: 5
3 Budweisers: 15
So, as you can see, sure I stimulated the economy, but at the expense of my body and my morals. I guess one way of looking at it is that I showed the most famous proponents of the Stimulus check (Barrack Obama and George W. Bush) may cringe knowing the very unChristian things I did with the governments money.
You see that hour long gambling binge? That's Uncle Sam.
See all that beer and booze? That's another plunge in the national budget.
So, I guess I can say that maybe I did all the above to give Jesus freaks like Obama and Bush the finger.
Well, that would be untrue. I did it to get drunk and have a good time. But, I hope that someday my children's children will look back at the Stimulus check of 08 and say "Damn, that dude got drunk."
Thank you
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Pearls of Love
Flower Stories About Love
Where is All the Love?
Have you ever wondered where all the love went? I mean, like nine years ago, there was all this love all over the place. I'd walk down the street and all these people would be making love all over the place. Even the ducks and the swans would make love all the night long. It was in the trees as well, when they would drop their love seeds down onto the ground and make love to the Earth. Then all these baby humans and ducks and swans and Earths would all be born and then they'd love their parents and grow up to make love and have baby humans, ducks, and Earths. But not anymore. Now everyone's like "I hate you" and "Let's go to war" and stuff like that. So, I'm just saying why don't we make love, Beth? I'll drive you home after?
Let's Talk About Us
Honey, have a seat. I want to talk about us. We've been having sex for about three weeks now and I think we need to talk about where this sex is going. Are we going to have a baby? No, probably not, as I can only finish on your stomach or face. Are we going to get married? No, probably not, as I have told you that I'm currently married to my wife, Betty. Are we going to continue having sex? Yes. I think that's important. I'm glad we had this talk.
She's Having My Baby
There's a special feeling when you find out that your wife, girlfriend, or coworker is having your baby. It's like finding out that you won the lottery, only that you get paid over 18 years, and you really actually pay the lottery ticket, but you see that the baby gives you love, so it's kinda like getting paid in love. OK. So, it's not really like winning the lottery. It's kinda like finding out you have moles.
My First Girlfriend
My first girlfriend's name was Heather. We met at a roller rink and immediately fell in love. After skating she offered to take me out for ice cream. We ate ice cream and I told her over and over again that I loved her. That night she put me to bed and I dreamed of her. When I woke up she made me breakfast and drove me to school. I lived with her for 18 years and she still writes and calls me on Sundays and stuff.
When a Man Loves a Woman
There's that song about how a man loves a woman and how it's so special and it's pretty popular. I agree with the sentiment that the love a man has for a woman is pretty interesting and worthy of a song. However, have you thought about how special a man's love for the planet Uranus would be? Think about it. You got this guy that's so into astronomy or physics, that he loves his subject: Uranus. Or Jupiter, for that matter. My point is, this isn't an "anus" joke. This is a joke about how this guy – this isn't even a joke. This is about how killer it would be if a man fell in love with something cool and from outer space. Because, then it'd be like he get all this awesome data about the planet through his intense love.
Love Knows No Boundaries
Lately, I've been seeing a lot of couples of different sexes. Men with women and women with men. And I approve. I don't think there's anything wrong with a man and a woman being together. Sure, they are from completely different sexes and they have completely different backgrounds – but love prevails. I have this friend Jim, who's all like "Look at that disgusting guy kissing a goddamn woman." I said to Jim "Maybe you just feel threatened that a woman could be loved by another man and maybe you won't have as many men to love because there's like 20% more women on the planet." Jim just smiled and punched me in the face. I guess it's going to take awhile to get people to understand that love has no boundaries.
The Last Story About Love
I guess the last thing I want to say about love is that it's truly a good feeling. One time I fell in love and it cured my debt problem. Or, this one time I fell in love and soon I was having sex a lot more often. Or, another time I fell in love and all of a sudden I had TWO cars. What I'm trying to say is, America (the only country capable of love), go out there and fall in love. Do it a bunch. With multiple people. Do it again and again until you have all the love in the world. Then commit suicide to make sure no one ever gets all of your love.
The Year 1384
In the year 1384, there lived two teenagers with a forbidden love. They had met wherever teenagers met in 1384 and found out that their love was forbidden. Soon, the town or whatever was the place that they lived, or people lived in 1384 found out about their forbidden love. Then all the townspeople got all mad and they hunted down the teenagers with weapons that could only be found in the year 1384. I don't know what happened after that, as I'm still researching this.
The Daughter of Uncle Ben
Most of you might think that Uncle Ben is just a myth and that rice really comes from the ground and not an elderly black man. Well, let me tell you a story about Uncle Ben's daughter, Daughter Pearl. Daughter Pearl started a pea company in 1921. Her peas were magic and they came from her knowledge of the black arts, from her Uncle Ben. Her peas were spontaneously made when Daughter Pearl walked. A trail of peas would follow her and then her underlings would pick them up with toothpicks and put them into bags of Pearl's Peas. Then she sold them. So, magic does really happen.
Love Story
Gloria and Bobby met one night on the shore. She was dying of cancer and she told Bobby and he felt bad. He still had sex with her, though. See, she wasn't dying of a contagious disease. She was dying from cancer. So, Bobby made love to her and the following morning, he found out that he wanted to make love to her again. And again. And again. Then she died. So, you can see how ruinous love can be to Bobby.
Where is All the Love?
Have you ever wondered where all the love went? I mean, like nine years ago, there was all this love all over the place. I'd walk down the street and all these people would be making love all over the place. Even the ducks and the swans would make love all the night long. It was in the trees as well, when they would drop their love seeds down onto the ground and make love to the Earth. Then all these baby humans and ducks and swans and Earths would all be born and then they'd love their parents and grow up to make love and have baby humans, ducks, and Earths. But not anymore. Now everyone's like "I hate you" and "Let's go to war" and stuff like that. So, I'm just saying why don't we make love, Beth? I'll drive you home after?
Let's Talk About Us
Honey, have a seat. I want to talk about us. We've been having sex for about three weeks now and I think we need to talk about where this sex is going. Are we going to have a baby? No, probably not, as I can only finish on your stomach or face. Are we going to get married? No, probably not, as I have told you that I'm currently married to my wife, Betty. Are we going to continue having sex? Yes. I think that's important. I'm glad we had this talk.
She's Having My Baby
There's a special feeling when you find out that your wife, girlfriend, or coworker is having your baby. It's like finding out that you won the lottery, only that you get paid over 18 years, and you really actually pay the lottery ticket, but you see that the baby gives you love, so it's kinda like getting paid in love. OK. So, it's not really like winning the lottery. It's kinda like finding out you have moles.
My First Girlfriend
My first girlfriend's name was Heather. We met at a roller rink and immediately fell in love. After skating she offered to take me out for ice cream. We ate ice cream and I told her over and over again that I loved her. That night she put me to bed and I dreamed of her. When I woke up she made me breakfast and drove me to school. I lived with her for 18 years and she still writes and calls me on Sundays and stuff.
When a Man Loves a Woman
There's that song about how a man loves a woman and how it's so special and it's pretty popular. I agree with the sentiment that the love a man has for a woman is pretty interesting and worthy of a song. However, have you thought about how special a man's love for the planet Uranus would be? Think about it. You got this guy that's so into astronomy or physics, that he loves his subject: Uranus. Or Jupiter, for that matter. My point is, this isn't an "anus" joke. This is a joke about how this guy – this isn't even a joke. This is about how killer it would be if a man fell in love with something cool and from outer space. Because, then it'd be like he get all this awesome data about the planet through his intense love.
Love Knows No Boundaries
Lately, I've been seeing a lot of couples of different sexes. Men with women and women with men. And I approve. I don't think there's anything wrong with a man and a woman being together. Sure, they are from completely different sexes and they have completely different backgrounds – but love prevails. I have this friend Jim, who's all like "Look at that disgusting guy kissing a goddamn woman." I said to Jim "Maybe you just feel threatened that a woman could be loved by another man and maybe you won't have as many men to love because there's like 20% more women on the planet." Jim just smiled and punched me in the face. I guess it's going to take awhile to get people to understand that love has no boundaries.
The Last Story About Love
I guess the last thing I want to say about love is that it's truly a good feeling. One time I fell in love and it cured my debt problem. Or, this one time I fell in love and soon I was having sex a lot more often. Or, another time I fell in love and all of a sudden I had TWO cars. What I'm trying to say is, America (the only country capable of love), go out there and fall in love. Do it a bunch. With multiple people. Do it again and again until you have all the love in the world. Then commit suicide to make sure no one ever gets all of your love.
The Year 1384
In the year 1384, there lived two teenagers with a forbidden love. They had met wherever teenagers met in 1384 and found out that their love was forbidden. Soon, the town or whatever was the place that they lived, or people lived in 1384 found out about their forbidden love. Then all the townspeople got all mad and they hunted down the teenagers with weapons that could only be found in the year 1384. I don't know what happened after that, as I'm still researching this.
The Daughter of Uncle Ben
Most of you might think that Uncle Ben is just a myth and that rice really comes from the ground and not an elderly black man. Well, let me tell you a story about Uncle Ben's daughter, Daughter Pearl. Daughter Pearl started a pea company in 1921. Her peas were magic and they came from her knowledge of the black arts, from her Uncle Ben. Her peas were spontaneously made when Daughter Pearl walked. A trail of peas would follow her and then her underlings would pick them up with toothpicks and put them into bags of Pearl's Peas. Then she sold them. So, magic does really happen.
Love Story
Gloria and Bobby met one night on the shore. She was dying of cancer and she told Bobby and he felt bad. He still had sex with her, though. See, she wasn't dying of a contagious disease. She was dying from cancer. So, Bobby made love to her and the following morning, he found out that he wanted to make love to her again. And again. And again. Then she died. So, you can see how ruinous love can be to Bobby.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Gnometown
Letters to My Father
Dear Dad,
Remember that one morning when you told me there was a Gnome riding a duck in the backyard? And when I went out into the backyard, you slammed the door and locked it? Well, I just wanted to tell you that I forgive you. Years later, I would find out you had a prostitute in the house and you wanted to have sexual relations with her. As a man, I can now say that I understand your needs and I understand why you needed to act the way you did.
The thing I still can't understand is how could you know years later I would actually come upon a gnome riding a duck. For, just today, I opened my door in my country house and there was a gnome on a duck "Ahoy!" he said. "I've brought you some muffins!"
I've never killed a gnome or a duck before, but I can only find closure in apologizing to you.
Yrs,
M
Dear Dad,
I'm glad you didn't write me back. You see, I believe some things are left unsaid. Like the story about the time you bet your friends I couldn't eat 11 hotdogs. I was so positive that I couldn't either, but you kept feeding me hotdogs and telling me in that grim voice of yours "You better finish!" That's the type of thing that's better left unsaid.
In your new life, I hope you have another son who can eat 12 hotdogs!
Yrs,
M
Dear Dad,
I was out in the hot springs this morning. I live on a mountain in a glorious country house I built from cardboard and pallets. It's not really altogether legal for me to be living out here, but I have many creditors and ex-wives that I need to escape. Kinda like you when you fled the country after murder. I'm not sure who you murdered, but I'm sure you had your reasons. Like, maybe he couldn't eat 11 hotdogs. I'm not really sure. Another gnome was out in the yard today on a duck.
Yrs,
M
Dear Dad,
There is a small army of gnomes on ducks in my front yard. The leader gnome has been knocking on my door and asking if I might have seen Jilly Bill. I tell them I don't know anything, but they persist. I'm not sure what to do. Maybe if I had that anti gnome spray you told me you owned. The kind that would keep you safe from gnomes and what I found out was really a butcher knife you used to slay five in a Boston warehouse in 1986. Anyway, the gnomes are calling again.
Yrs,
M
Dear Dad,
The gnomes have granted me immunity for the deaths of Jilly Bill and Garden Horse the duck. I told them my story and they feel that years of abuse at your hands had driven me to murder the gnome. I feel validated. This will be the last letter I write to you, as the gnomes are taking me to a far off land called Gnometown. I can't guess what Gnometown and my new home for me might entail. Maybe there's a place where you and I can finally make peace. However, Gnometown is not that place, for you are reviled as an evil despot and killer of gnomes. I thought you should know.
Yrs,
M
P.S. Do you still have that BMX bike I had? I would really like to have it back.
Dear Dad,
Remember that one morning when you told me there was a Gnome riding a duck in the backyard? And when I went out into the backyard, you slammed the door and locked it? Well, I just wanted to tell you that I forgive you. Years later, I would find out you had a prostitute in the house and you wanted to have sexual relations with her. As a man, I can now say that I understand your needs and I understand why you needed to act the way you did.
The thing I still can't understand is how could you know years later I would actually come upon a gnome riding a duck. For, just today, I opened my door in my country house and there was a gnome on a duck "Ahoy!" he said. "I've brought you some muffins!"
I've never killed a gnome or a duck before, but I can only find closure in apologizing to you.
Yrs,
M
Dear Dad,
I'm glad you didn't write me back. You see, I believe some things are left unsaid. Like the story about the time you bet your friends I couldn't eat 11 hotdogs. I was so positive that I couldn't either, but you kept feeding me hotdogs and telling me in that grim voice of yours "You better finish!" That's the type of thing that's better left unsaid.
In your new life, I hope you have another son who can eat 12 hotdogs!
Yrs,
M
Dear Dad,
I was out in the hot springs this morning. I live on a mountain in a glorious country house I built from cardboard and pallets. It's not really altogether legal for me to be living out here, but I have many creditors and ex-wives that I need to escape. Kinda like you when you fled the country after murder. I'm not sure who you murdered, but I'm sure you had your reasons. Like, maybe he couldn't eat 11 hotdogs. I'm not really sure. Another gnome was out in the yard today on a duck.
Yrs,
M
Dear Dad,
There is a small army of gnomes on ducks in my front yard. The leader gnome has been knocking on my door and asking if I might have seen Jilly Bill. I tell them I don't know anything, but they persist. I'm not sure what to do. Maybe if I had that anti gnome spray you told me you owned. The kind that would keep you safe from gnomes and what I found out was really a butcher knife you used to slay five in a Boston warehouse in 1986. Anyway, the gnomes are calling again.
Yrs,
M
Dear Dad,
The gnomes have granted me immunity for the deaths of Jilly Bill and Garden Horse the duck. I told them my story and they feel that years of abuse at your hands had driven me to murder the gnome. I feel validated. This will be the last letter I write to you, as the gnomes are taking me to a far off land called Gnometown. I can't guess what Gnometown and my new home for me might entail. Maybe there's a place where you and I can finally make peace. However, Gnometown is not that place, for you are reviled as an evil despot and killer of gnomes. I thought you should know.
Yrs,
M
P.S. Do you still have that BMX bike I had? I would really like to have it back.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
More Stories About Your Face
Meanwhile, in the Cave of the Flavor Savers
"General! The vents are locked."
"Blue and yellow?"
"Made green."
"Alright. Ipson!"
"Yes, General! How's that cheese?"
"Sir, we're losing the end."
"Does the family simply cut the end off? Or do they throw the entire cheese out?"
"They throw it out."
"CODE RED!"
An Army of One...Middle Finger
Have you got what it takes to beat the odds and find adventure in life?
Has the War on Terror left you behind because you were too fat, stupid, or lazy to pick up a weapon?
Do you believe that the Army, Navy, and Air Force require you to fight on foreign sands?
Well, not any more.
If you have a middle finger, and you share the Bush Administrations values, WE WANT YOU – to flip off protesters from your car.
Imagine, traveling to exotic cities like San Francisco, Boston, or Seattle…to flip people off.
It takes 30 hippies to create a protest – it takes one middle finger to say "Hey, f@ck you!"
Be the finger that makes a difference – WWW.ARMYOFONE.COM.
That Time I Robbed Your House
Hey, man. It's funny that you stopped by. I wanted to talk to you, too.
Yeah, I heard you got robbed – listen, I wanted to talk to you about that. I robbed you.
I know that's what you thought. Let me explain. I had this really good burrito the other day and I was sitting there thinking "Man, I could really use another burrito like that." So, I figured I'd go down and get a burrito. Then, I realized I didn't have any money. So, I was like "Why not rob Kevin?" So, there you go. I figured I'd be –
Yeah, you'd be amazed how little you get for a wedding ring. I think it bought a burrito and then, like, there was 70 bucks left.
I know, I know. Look, I have the 70 bucks. I just owe you four bucks. Wait –
OK, you're not going to believe this, but I've been robbed. All of those 70 dollars are gone.
So, we can call the cops, like you're saying, or we can let Karma complete its cycle. You lost 74 bucks, and I lost 70.
I knew you wouldn't see things my way, Kevin.
Same to you.
The Dolphin Castle
A lot of people ask me about the Dolphin Castle I visited in Florida.
I can understand the curiosity, but c'mon. Some things are private.
Astronauts that Live in My Basement
What's the first thing you think about when you think about astronauts? I know, me too: space. But you wouldn't think of my basement, would you? I guess the title probably grabbed a few of you by the eyes and pulled you in for more.
Well, there is more.
About two years ago I was down in my basement and I heard this "Shhhhh." I kinda looked around and noticed that three astronauts were hunkered down behind an old couch.
I knew they were astronauts because they had those puffy suits and the face shields and stuff.
They kinda looked at me and I just nodded. I could see what they were up to. My basement looks much like the moon, except for the couch and the collection of old parkas on the couch. Plus there's a Coca Cola sign from 1987 on the wall. Otherwise: moon.
The astronauts told me not to tell anyone about their fake moon landing, but it's my basement.
I Would Like to Extend an Olive Branch to You, Other Race Guy
Working in an office can be extremely political these days. You have people of all walks of life, be they red, yellow, or Mormon. It's very important to step around these people and make sure that you don't slip up and say something that they might take offense at.
Like the other day, I was in the elevator and this Communist got on and we started chatting.
I knew he was a Communist, because we were chatting about how much I hated Communists.
Before I knew it, I had insulted this man and his religion.
So, you can see how you need to be careful about people of other races – especially dirty Communists.
And that got me to thinking: isn't there a better way to go about dealing with people that you don't agree with or look like or shop at the same malls as?
There is!
That's why I'm extending this olive branch of peace to everyone who is different.
Yes, the olive tree is an elusive one and I found myself traveling all the way to my neighbor's lawn to acquire it.
Now that Thursday is here, and I have to go back to work, I will be brining the olive branch in, so that the next time someone gets on the elevator and they are different, I will point the olive branch at them.
It just makes sense.
I Don't Know About This Iran War Thing
I don't know much about all this Iran war business, but I will tell you this: I'm not about to start going to war for someone's oil and junk. I mean, what's the big deal about going to war for oil? You don't see people going to war at gas stations over it.
Like the other day, I was at the gas station and there was this car ahead of me and I started really laying into my horn, thinking this would make the guy hurry. It didn't.
That's how I know you can't get oil with pressure and stuff.
So, the next day I went to the gas station and no one was ahead of me. So, I couldn't prove anything. But the next day, I went in with my tank completely full and there was this guy ahead of me again. So, I pulled up next to him and I motioned for him to come up to my car.
He kind of gave me a look and I said "Hey, take a look in here." And I pointed at my gas gauge. "I don't need your oil, Sam!"
And then I drove off.
Therefore, I think there's always a peaceful solution when it comes to oil.
I'm Already Fired
I understand you want to talk to me about some of the things I've been doing around the office?
Oh, really? Well, listen: I've already been fired.
You look surprised? Well, don't be. Someone higher up than you fired me just an hour ago, before you even invited me in for this One-on-One meeting in the security podium.
It doesn't matter who did it. It's been done. I've been fired. And not by you.
No, the person who fired me was 100% more qualified to do the job. They listed the large spreadsheet full of infractions, my attendance, and nine other counts of why I am an inept worker and need to be taken away from this company.
So don't even try it.
Sure, I'm confident that you too could make a good case for having me fired. The point is: someone made a better one.
That someone wasn't you.
Yes, of course, by all means, escort me to the door – but it's not the first time. I was escorted to the door just a half hour ago, and therefore am too tired to fight back.
The biting and snarling that accompanied my previous departure was something to behold. But not this time: you didn't anger me in the least.
Sure, you can pepper your dialogue with "crazy" and "nuts" and search my pockets for contraband, but it's nothing compared to the thrashing I received when one of your betters hauled me out the door and told me to return all that copy paper.
Let this be a lesson to you.
Who I'm Voting for and Why
To all those concerned, I want you to know I made a decision today. I have decided to throw my vote in for a man who best represents what I stand for and what I believe the United States should stand for.
This is no ordinary man, you won't find him on CNN every night debating about the war and oil and stuff. This man is different.
He believes in things I believe in. Like the time he believed in me.
That's right, that man is my plumber.
He was over the other day fixing my toilet. I was watching old Newhart reruns and drinking. I offered him a beer, but my plumber refused. He said "I have job to do."
I applauded his morals and finished my beer and then made some pizza. I stood in the doorway of my bathroom and watched him work.
With my mouth full and beer dribbling down my chin, I asked "You need some pizza?"
He didn't understand me, so I asked again "Woo Wee Won Weeza?"
He looked at me and nodded. I went to the kitchen and remembered that I had eaten the last slice. I came back with the news.
He told me he was just about done. He was so classy he didn't even acknowledge the fact that I had teased him with pizza.
I sat back down and pulled out a can of paint and began huffing as he continued to toil in my bathroom.
This was a man that would work for America. I've seen America, and it's full of drunk, overweight men who huff gas and masturbate with tanning lotion. This was a man who would work for America, when America can't work for itself.
Eventually, the man came out of my bathroom and said "Is done!" I smiled and walked up to him and shook his hand. He flinched, but I grabbed his arm and made him shake hands with me. In this way, he proved that he wouldn't take my friendship naively, no he knew that he had to work for it.
He showed me the toilet and the new whatsajiggy that he installed. He flushed the toilet and we both watched the water in the tank rise to greet what was a new day.
"Thank you, Kenny." I said.
He smiled and told me his name was Sam. I told him it didn't matter, I would still vote for him no matter what his name was.
He didn't really believe me, or maybe he was just shaking his head at the olive branch I had pointed at him.
Either way, Sam is my choice for 2008.
"General! The vents are locked."
"Blue and yellow?"
"Made green."
"Alright. Ipson!"
"Yes, General! How's that cheese?"
"Sir, we're losing the end."
"Does the family simply cut the end off? Or do they throw the entire cheese out?"
"They throw it out."
"CODE RED!"
An Army of One...Middle Finger
Have you got what it takes to beat the odds and find adventure in life?
Has the War on Terror left you behind because you were too fat, stupid, or lazy to pick up a weapon?
Do you believe that the Army, Navy, and Air Force require you to fight on foreign sands?
Well, not any more.
If you have a middle finger, and you share the Bush Administrations values, WE WANT YOU – to flip off protesters from your car.
Imagine, traveling to exotic cities like San Francisco, Boston, or Seattle…to flip people off.
It takes 30 hippies to create a protest – it takes one middle finger to say "Hey, f@ck you!"
Be the finger that makes a difference – WWW.ARMYOFONE.COM.
That Time I Robbed Your House
Hey, man. It's funny that you stopped by. I wanted to talk to you, too.
Yeah, I heard you got robbed – listen, I wanted to talk to you about that. I robbed you.
I know that's what you thought. Let me explain. I had this really good burrito the other day and I was sitting there thinking "Man, I could really use another burrito like that." So, I figured I'd go down and get a burrito. Then, I realized I didn't have any money. So, I was like "Why not rob Kevin?" So, there you go. I figured I'd be –
Yeah, you'd be amazed how little you get for a wedding ring. I think it bought a burrito and then, like, there was 70 bucks left.
I know, I know. Look, I have the 70 bucks. I just owe you four bucks. Wait –
OK, you're not going to believe this, but I've been robbed. All of those 70 dollars are gone.
So, we can call the cops, like you're saying, or we can let Karma complete its cycle. You lost 74 bucks, and I lost 70.
I knew you wouldn't see things my way, Kevin.
Same to you.
The Dolphin Castle
A lot of people ask me about the Dolphin Castle I visited in Florida.
I can understand the curiosity, but c'mon. Some things are private.
Astronauts that Live in My Basement
What's the first thing you think about when you think about astronauts? I know, me too: space. But you wouldn't think of my basement, would you? I guess the title probably grabbed a few of you by the eyes and pulled you in for more.
Well, there is more.
About two years ago I was down in my basement and I heard this "Shhhhh." I kinda looked around and noticed that three astronauts were hunkered down behind an old couch.
I knew they were astronauts because they had those puffy suits and the face shields and stuff.
They kinda looked at me and I just nodded. I could see what they were up to. My basement looks much like the moon, except for the couch and the collection of old parkas on the couch. Plus there's a Coca Cola sign from 1987 on the wall. Otherwise: moon.
The astronauts told me not to tell anyone about their fake moon landing, but it's my basement.
I Would Like to Extend an Olive Branch to You, Other Race Guy
Working in an office can be extremely political these days. You have people of all walks of life, be they red, yellow, or Mormon. It's very important to step around these people and make sure that you don't slip up and say something that they might take offense at.
Like the other day, I was in the elevator and this Communist got on and we started chatting.
I knew he was a Communist, because we were chatting about how much I hated Communists.
Before I knew it, I had insulted this man and his religion.
So, you can see how you need to be careful about people of other races – especially dirty Communists.
And that got me to thinking: isn't there a better way to go about dealing with people that you don't agree with or look like or shop at the same malls as?
There is!
That's why I'm extending this olive branch of peace to everyone who is different.
Yes, the olive tree is an elusive one and I found myself traveling all the way to my neighbor's lawn to acquire it.
Now that Thursday is here, and I have to go back to work, I will be brining the olive branch in, so that the next time someone gets on the elevator and they are different, I will point the olive branch at them.
It just makes sense.
I Don't Know About This Iran War Thing
I don't know much about all this Iran war business, but I will tell you this: I'm not about to start going to war for someone's oil and junk. I mean, what's the big deal about going to war for oil? You don't see people going to war at gas stations over it.
Like the other day, I was at the gas station and there was this car ahead of me and I started really laying into my horn, thinking this would make the guy hurry. It didn't.
That's how I know you can't get oil with pressure and stuff.
So, the next day I went to the gas station and no one was ahead of me. So, I couldn't prove anything. But the next day, I went in with my tank completely full and there was this guy ahead of me again. So, I pulled up next to him and I motioned for him to come up to my car.
He kind of gave me a look and I said "Hey, take a look in here." And I pointed at my gas gauge. "I don't need your oil, Sam!"
And then I drove off.
Therefore, I think there's always a peaceful solution when it comes to oil.
I'm Already Fired
I understand you want to talk to me about some of the things I've been doing around the office?
Oh, really? Well, listen: I've already been fired.
You look surprised? Well, don't be. Someone higher up than you fired me just an hour ago, before you even invited me in for this One-on-One meeting in the security podium.
It doesn't matter who did it. It's been done. I've been fired. And not by you.
No, the person who fired me was 100% more qualified to do the job. They listed the large spreadsheet full of infractions, my attendance, and nine other counts of why I am an inept worker and need to be taken away from this company.
So don't even try it.
Sure, I'm confident that you too could make a good case for having me fired. The point is: someone made a better one.
That someone wasn't you.
Yes, of course, by all means, escort me to the door – but it's not the first time. I was escorted to the door just a half hour ago, and therefore am too tired to fight back.
The biting and snarling that accompanied my previous departure was something to behold. But not this time: you didn't anger me in the least.
Sure, you can pepper your dialogue with "crazy" and "nuts" and search my pockets for contraband, but it's nothing compared to the thrashing I received when one of your betters hauled me out the door and told me to return all that copy paper.
Let this be a lesson to you.
Who I'm Voting for and Why
To all those concerned, I want you to know I made a decision today. I have decided to throw my vote in for a man who best represents what I stand for and what I believe the United States should stand for.
This is no ordinary man, you won't find him on CNN every night debating about the war and oil and stuff. This man is different.
He believes in things I believe in. Like the time he believed in me.
That's right, that man is my plumber.
He was over the other day fixing my toilet. I was watching old Newhart reruns and drinking. I offered him a beer, but my plumber refused. He said "I have job to do."
I applauded his morals and finished my beer and then made some pizza. I stood in the doorway of my bathroom and watched him work.
With my mouth full and beer dribbling down my chin, I asked "You need some pizza?"
He didn't understand me, so I asked again "Woo Wee Won Weeza?"
He looked at me and nodded. I went to the kitchen and remembered that I had eaten the last slice. I came back with the news.
He told me he was just about done. He was so classy he didn't even acknowledge the fact that I had teased him with pizza.
I sat back down and pulled out a can of paint and began huffing as he continued to toil in my bathroom.
This was a man that would work for America. I've seen America, and it's full of drunk, overweight men who huff gas and masturbate with tanning lotion. This was a man who would work for America, when America can't work for itself.
Eventually, the man came out of my bathroom and said "Is done!" I smiled and walked up to him and shook his hand. He flinched, but I grabbed his arm and made him shake hands with me. In this way, he proved that he wouldn't take my friendship naively, no he knew that he had to work for it.
He showed me the toilet and the new whatsajiggy that he installed. He flushed the toilet and we both watched the water in the tank rise to greet what was a new day.
"Thank you, Kenny." I said.
He smiled and told me his name was Sam. I told him it didn't matter, I would still vote for him no matter what his name was.
He didn't really believe me, or maybe he was just shaking his head at the olive branch I had pointed at him.
Either way, Sam is my choice for 2008.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Dino Stories
Giant Dinosaur Story
Back in the olden days, dinosaurs were as plentiful as bears. In fact, the revolutionary war was not only fought between the British and the colonists of Northern America, it was also fought using French and Native Americans. This has little to do with the dinosaurs that were all over the place, but it's something to think about.
My Anti Drug Message to the Young People
It's been my experience that drugs are bad news. I've used drugs on several occasions and LOOK OUT – DINOSAUR!!!
The Patriot Act is Out of Line
As an American, I hold true the values of our country. From the Flag Day to the Labor Day, I'm always proud to hang stuff up in my yard. However, I don't feel it is necessary to instill fear and paranoia in our nation for the sake of – LOOK OUT - DINOSAUR!!!
The Lonely Island of the Last Dinosaur
Dinosaurs had been extinct for more than 50 years and on one lonely island, the last of their race was left. Which, when you think about it makes it so that they weren't quite extinct yet. However, seeing how the last dinosaur couldn't breed, extinction was in the air.
The last dinosaur stood proudly on a mountain top and watched as the sky burned from the meteor that had run afoul of the Earth, some 50 years beforehand. She reflected on her 50 years of isolation and thought to herself "Giving live birth and nursing would be disgusting."
Tony and the Pterodactyl
Tony was only two when he accidentally got into his father's time machine and blasted off into the past. There, in the period where pterodactyls lived, he found himself face to face with a giant pterodactyl. He looked up at the flying lizard and cooed. The pterodactyl squaked back. This went on for some time until a friendship was established. Soon, the pterodactyl let Tony ride on it's back as it flew the Earth looking for food and other pterodactyls to hang out with.
Then the meteor hit.
The Revolutionary War's Interesting Visitors
It's a long forgotten fact that the revolutionary war was the only war to include dinosaurs. No, not those kind. I'm talking about the kind that were rock legends in the 70s. It seems Tony's father's time machine ended up being used quite a bit. And, I'll be pig tied and sacked, if Foreigner didn't show up during the Revolutionary war and rock it like a hurricane. Just like the Scorpians in Vietnam, and Led Zeppelin during the Spanish civil war. Time machines are cool.
Why Didn't the Devil Ever Buy Any Dinosaur Souls
Think about it. I mean, a soul is a soul. It doesn't matter how big your brain is. So, I ask you: why didn't the devil ever buy any dinosaur souls? I could just imagine it. This nice brontosaurus comes up to this T-Rex and it's all like "Wait, before you eat me, let me buy your soul for unlimited bronto meat?"
The T-Rex would say "Awesome." Then the devil would pay him in all this bronto meat and then when T-Rex died he'd go to hell and burn forever and then when you or I went to hell we'd be able to see real life dinosaurs burning in hell.
That would be sweet.
The Dinosaur's Wedding Toast
Good evening Al, Linda. Thanks for inviting me to what I can honestly say is the third most important event in my life, after my marriage and the birth of my son Chris.
What can I say about Al? He's the only raptor that I've ever been friends with. I guess I learned a lot about their species and how friendship has no boundaries.
And Linda. I have to admit, she gives my wife a run for her money. Just joking, Justine.
Anyway, I just want to congratulate Al and Linda and I am honored to be a part of their circle of friends.
I don't want to tear up, so I'll give the microphone to Jordan, who's going to say a blessing.
The Dinosaur's Walk In Closet Monster
Did you ever wonder if dinosaurs were afraid of monsters and what those monsters would look like?
Would they look all extra scary or would they be more like bunnies or something that we would find cute?
Well, where's the part about the walk in closet?
Back in the olden days, dinosaurs were as plentiful as bears. In fact, the revolutionary war was not only fought between the British and the colonists of Northern America, it was also fought using French and Native Americans. This has little to do with the dinosaurs that were all over the place, but it's something to think about.
My Anti Drug Message to the Young People
It's been my experience that drugs are bad news. I've used drugs on several occasions and LOOK OUT – DINOSAUR!!!
The Patriot Act is Out of Line
As an American, I hold true the values of our country. From the Flag Day to the Labor Day, I'm always proud to hang stuff up in my yard. However, I don't feel it is necessary to instill fear and paranoia in our nation for the sake of – LOOK OUT - DINOSAUR!!!
The Lonely Island of the Last Dinosaur
Dinosaurs had been extinct for more than 50 years and on one lonely island, the last of their race was left. Which, when you think about it makes it so that they weren't quite extinct yet. However, seeing how the last dinosaur couldn't breed, extinction was in the air.
The last dinosaur stood proudly on a mountain top and watched as the sky burned from the meteor that had run afoul of the Earth, some 50 years beforehand. She reflected on her 50 years of isolation and thought to herself "Giving live birth and nursing would be disgusting."
Tony and the Pterodactyl
Tony was only two when he accidentally got into his father's time machine and blasted off into the past. There, in the period where pterodactyls lived, he found himself face to face with a giant pterodactyl. He looked up at the flying lizard and cooed. The pterodactyl squaked back. This went on for some time until a friendship was established. Soon, the pterodactyl let Tony ride on it's back as it flew the Earth looking for food and other pterodactyls to hang out with.
Then the meteor hit.
The Revolutionary War's Interesting Visitors
It's a long forgotten fact that the revolutionary war was the only war to include dinosaurs. No, not those kind. I'm talking about the kind that were rock legends in the 70s. It seems Tony's father's time machine ended up being used quite a bit. And, I'll be pig tied and sacked, if Foreigner didn't show up during the Revolutionary war and rock it like a hurricane. Just like the Scorpians in Vietnam, and Led Zeppelin during the Spanish civil war. Time machines are cool.
Why Didn't the Devil Ever Buy Any Dinosaur Souls
Think about it. I mean, a soul is a soul. It doesn't matter how big your brain is. So, I ask you: why didn't the devil ever buy any dinosaur souls? I could just imagine it. This nice brontosaurus comes up to this T-Rex and it's all like "Wait, before you eat me, let me buy your soul for unlimited bronto meat?"
The T-Rex would say "Awesome." Then the devil would pay him in all this bronto meat and then when T-Rex died he'd go to hell and burn forever and then when you or I went to hell we'd be able to see real life dinosaurs burning in hell.
That would be sweet.
The Dinosaur's Wedding Toast
Good evening Al, Linda. Thanks for inviting me to what I can honestly say is the third most important event in my life, after my marriage and the birth of my son Chris.
What can I say about Al? He's the only raptor that I've ever been friends with. I guess I learned a lot about their species and how friendship has no boundaries.
And Linda. I have to admit, she gives my wife a run for her money. Just joking, Justine.
Anyway, I just want to congratulate Al and Linda and I am honored to be a part of their circle of friends.
I don't want to tear up, so I'll give the microphone to Jordan, who's going to say a blessing.
The Dinosaur's Walk In Closet Monster
Did you ever wonder if dinosaurs were afraid of monsters and what those monsters would look like?
Would they look all extra scary or would they be more like bunnies or something that we would find cute?
Well, where's the part about the walk in closet?
Monday, May 19, 2008
Here's what's affecting me:
Geraldine Ferraro, notorious loser and feminazi has decided to sell out her party for the sake of her vagina. Geraldine would be an unemployed lesbian in a kinder gentler nation.
Conservatives everywhere are rejoicing in the slow death rattle of Ted Kennedy. Rush Limbaugh won't be happy until Teddy gets an undersea burial in a car with a dead hooker.
In redneck news, Hillary Clinton had a stare down with a preacher who just can't stop clowning around.
"He's eating my brain."
Maybe it was this big and had this written all over it.
This shit has got to be good. I don't care if I have to navigate a Scholastic Jr. Book Series page.
You fat fuck – take these pills.
Feeling sick? Too lazy to swallow? Try this.
Actual email to entire IS department:
Hello.
I have once again delivered a new and exciting solution for the developer community.
Just saw the guy walking in the hall with his chest boosted out like he was the cock of the walk. I'm actually impressed with the idea that anyone has an ego this large. Smaller egos must orbit him like so many moons around a douchebag.
Weisberg came out Saturday night and we boozed it over at the Joker. I was already drunk by the time he picked me up. He and his brother dropped in for a few beers beforehand and I believe I was at 8 around that time. Over at the Joker we played pool and saw Norm Charlton and….last name starts with an "R"…black…I 'm too lazy to look him up. They were Mariners. Not the seafaring kind.
Earlier that day Josh and Monica came by so that Monica could tell me everything I did wrong with my furniture in the apartment. Don't get me wrong; I asked for it. After that we went to Chilis. Monica got mini burgers, Josh got a whole cow with a pig on top, between two buns and I got tortilla chips and mooched off their food. We were taking bets on whether Josh could finish his burger. He couldn't and was pretty much sick the entire day. I tried a mini burger and I have to say Chili's meat is too fatty. It was like eating the fat off a steak with mayo. We got a beer there, then went to Coho and got a beer there where Monica compared me to the fat guy on the Office. I cried for awhile and then we went to the Joker for a couple of beers. It was 90ish out and I pretty much felt high with all the sun and beer. Then we went to Barnes and Nobel to look at comic books.
Introducing the new man of the family: Jeff. Jeff will marry my sister next year and because I wanted to play poker and get drunk, I had Jeff, the old man, and Brad over for poker, pizza, and beer on Friday. It was a splendid occasion. I believe Brad won, but it could have been a Yeti. I ended up at Red Robin drinking Jaegermeister, so who knows.
Sunday morning I stopped by Ma's. There was a crisis. As she explained to me Mike cleaned the filters in the air conditioner, so the air conditioner stopped working. Then, the TV was working, but the circuit breaker said it shouldn't be and…I had to put together a fan.
Sunday night I went to Jenny's and hung out with Jeff, Cary, Eli, Maddy, and Brad. Eli was in a foul mood and wasn't happy until we let him pretend he was a robot while eating his chicken. We also brought out Jeff's Magnum Opus: Fritos with little smokies. I created a new dish when I was able to load a Frito Scoop with a little smokie, some chili, and a jo jo. If you were ever wondering, yes, I am fat.Speaking of
Your house is dirty. You're ashamed to have a dinner. Your spouse and kids have deserted you for a Sizzler. Who's gonna clean up the mess? Purex, you dumb cunt!
Yesterday my nephew and I watched the Japanese version of Star Blazers. It still entertained him. I, on the other hand, was more interested in the Frito/Sausage boats. But, the animation is spectacular. I feel sorry for children these days. I mean, there's millions of reasons, but the main one is that their cartoons are fershit. Take any cartoon after 1990 and you have the biggest load of colored shit since you ate Play Dough. CG? Fuck CG. Most movies looked more real without. Egotastic, bloated megaloads like George Lucas have turned Sci Fi movies into garbage. Again, I'm only saying this for the children.
The Geriatric Senator from Arizona is beating American Idol contestant and showboater, Barrack Obama by a whopping 1 percent. Sorry, I'm behind Obama 100%, but there's a bit of November left in me that thinks 50% of his soul is being voted on by troglodytes that equate Gap commercials with public health. I guess I'm just cynical from Kerry, but it really seems more and more evident that the leader of the world is being voted on based on good looks, a winning smile, and some nod to a lobbyist. However, I feel that there's a small chance that Obama could be 15% of what Roosevelt was to our nation, and I'll take those odds.
The Inquisition leg of the Catholic church is at it again. Should I go with a letting sexual deviants take Communion joke or a Is Will Smith excommunicating Scientologists for not enjoying I Am Legend joke? Your ball. Your court. You make the call.
This Guy Is Totally Wrong Dept.
Today in This Guy is Totally Wrong, we'll explore this guy's take on the Republican Party.
Talk about jerking yourself off. I don't think Democrats or liberals (people with common sense and decency) are winning. What's going on is that we're selling out our values to become centrists. Which just makes us the party of John McCain. The Democrats aren't getting any new blood, they've just become Republicans. The guy who won the Mississippi deal was a Pro-Lifer and gun guy. What's the difference between this guy and a Republican?
Like Hitler grazing Poland.
Rock star?
The more I see this stuff, the more I want to believe. Like a retarded Moulder. However, I do think it's possible we're seeing something, but pompous asses, like Bad Astronomy guy, won't for a second even think the possibility is in the cards and therefore do everything to disprove it. Asses like him are what make Newton's and Copernicus' of today live in shadows…and drink beer all day and eat Hotpockets.
The piranha one surprises me. However, I feel like they prove and disprove this crap constantly to keep us unhinged. "They" being the same people that put that statue on Mars. The lemmings one is a good way to get into an argument with someone. That myth is so embedded in society that Harland Ellison (who sucks, more later) even included it in a book.
More Indy movies? More Shiloh whatever your name is? Lucas: you're killing me violently with your song.
Conservatives everywhere are rejoicing in the slow death rattle of Ted Kennedy. Rush Limbaugh won't be happy until Teddy gets an undersea burial in a car with a dead hooker.
In redneck news, Hillary Clinton had a stare down with a preacher who just can't stop clowning around.
"He's eating my brain."
Maybe it was this big and had this written all over it.
This shit has got to be good. I don't care if I have to navigate a Scholastic Jr. Book Series page.
You fat fuck – take these pills.
Feeling sick? Too lazy to swallow? Try this.
Actual email to entire IS department:
Hello.
I have once again delivered a new and exciting solution for the developer community.
Just saw the guy walking in the hall with his chest boosted out like he was the cock of the walk. I'm actually impressed with the idea that anyone has an ego this large. Smaller egos must orbit him like so many moons around a douchebag.
Weisberg came out Saturday night and we boozed it over at the Joker. I was already drunk by the time he picked me up. He and his brother dropped in for a few beers beforehand and I believe I was at 8 around that time. Over at the Joker we played pool and saw Norm Charlton and….last name starts with an "R"…black…I 'm too lazy to look him up. They were Mariners. Not the seafaring kind.
Earlier that day Josh and Monica came by so that Monica could tell me everything I did wrong with my furniture in the apartment. Don't get me wrong; I asked for it. After that we went to Chilis. Monica got mini burgers, Josh got a whole cow with a pig on top, between two buns and I got tortilla chips and mooched off their food. We were taking bets on whether Josh could finish his burger. He couldn't and was pretty much sick the entire day. I tried a mini burger and I have to say Chili's meat is too fatty. It was like eating the fat off a steak with mayo. We got a beer there, then went to Coho and got a beer there where Monica compared me to the fat guy on the Office. I cried for awhile and then we went to the Joker for a couple of beers. It was 90ish out and I pretty much felt high with all the sun and beer. Then we went to Barnes and Nobel to look at comic books.
Introducing the new man of the family: Jeff. Jeff will marry my sister next year and because I wanted to play poker and get drunk, I had Jeff, the old man, and Brad over for poker, pizza, and beer on Friday. It was a splendid occasion. I believe Brad won, but it could have been a Yeti. I ended up at Red Robin drinking Jaegermeister, so who knows.
Sunday morning I stopped by Ma's. There was a crisis. As she explained to me Mike cleaned the filters in the air conditioner, so the air conditioner stopped working. Then, the TV was working, but the circuit breaker said it shouldn't be and…I had to put together a fan.
Sunday night I went to Jenny's and hung out with Jeff, Cary, Eli, Maddy, and Brad. Eli was in a foul mood and wasn't happy until we let him pretend he was a robot while eating his chicken. We also brought out Jeff's Magnum Opus: Fritos with little smokies. I created a new dish when I was able to load a Frito Scoop with a little smokie, some chili, and a jo jo. If you were ever wondering, yes, I am fat.Speaking of
Your house is dirty. You're ashamed to have a dinner. Your spouse and kids have deserted you for a Sizzler. Who's gonna clean up the mess? Purex, you dumb cunt!
Yesterday my nephew and I watched the Japanese version of Star Blazers. It still entertained him. I, on the other hand, was more interested in the Frito/Sausage boats. But, the animation is spectacular. I feel sorry for children these days. I mean, there's millions of reasons, but the main one is that their cartoons are fershit. Take any cartoon after 1990 and you have the biggest load of colored shit since you ate Play Dough. CG? Fuck CG. Most movies looked more real without. Egotastic, bloated megaloads like George Lucas have turned Sci Fi movies into garbage. Again, I'm only saying this for the children.
The Geriatric Senator from Arizona is beating American Idol contestant and showboater, Barrack Obama by a whopping 1 percent. Sorry, I'm behind Obama 100%, but there's a bit of November left in me that thinks 50% of his soul is being voted on by troglodytes that equate Gap commercials with public health. I guess I'm just cynical from Kerry, but it really seems more and more evident that the leader of the world is being voted on based on good looks, a winning smile, and some nod to a lobbyist. However, I feel that there's a small chance that Obama could be 15% of what Roosevelt was to our nation, and I'll take those odds.
The Inquisition leg of the Catholic church is at it again. Should I go with a letting sexual deviants take Communion joke or a Is Will Smith excommunicating Scientologists for not enjoying I Am Legend joke? Your ball. Your court. You make the call.
This Guy Is Totally Wrong Dept.
Today in This Guy is Totally Wrong, we'll explore this guy's take on the Republican Party.
Talk about jerking yourself off. I don't think Democrats or liberals (people with common sense and decency) are winning. What's going on is that we're selling out our values to become centrists. Which just makes us the party of John McCain. The Democrats aren't getting any new blood, they've just become Republicans. The guy who won the Mississippi deal was a Pro-Lifer and gun guy. What's the difference between this guy and a Republican?
Like Hitler grazing Poland.
Rock star?
The more I see this stuff, the more I want to believe. Like a retarded Moulder. However, I do think it's possible we're seeing something, but pompous asses, like Bad Astronomy guy, won't for a second even think the possibility is in the cards and therefore do everything to disprove it. Asses like him are what make Newton's and Copernicus' of today live in shadows…and drink beer all day and eat Hotpockets.
The piranha one surprises me. However, I feel like they prove and disprove this crap constantly to keep us unhinged. "They" being the same people that put that statue on Mars. The lemmings one is a good way to get into an argument with someone. That myth is so embedded in society that Harland Ellison (who sucks, more later) even included it in a book.
More Indy movies? More Shiloh whatever your name is? Lucas: you're killing me violently with your song.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Square the Alley
Can the wicked thing in the alley stop moving. It’s made of heads. Blue, black, red, and yellow.
I walk by it and I’m stopped by the need for mercy from this fragile wound in my hand. About the color of hair and red.
“My dear friend.” It’s these damn robots again.
“There’s something in the alley full of heads.” I say.
“That’s been there, he’s dead.”
It’s a fullback, it’s a fucking real mean, big one; you know what I mean. Jesus! These things grow to the size of tree fronds. They’ve been issuing the Bill model after some of the old history. Fucking large nose and a head full of toupee hair.
I sneeze and it looks at me and leaves. Something in the air.
I keep walking and eventually armored cars come buzzing down the streets.
Streets have street meat.
I walk down the alley and there’s a hotdog vendor. I walk to the stand, put my two cents in, and
Hotdog flavor up through the vents, hits me in the face and falling back, this mustard smell comes to my lips and the vendor forks some fake, plastic dead skin from the hide of a beached whale up my mouth. I start gnawing at it and he pulls away. I fall on the ground and the waiter draws me away convulsing. “The street lamps have timber like music.” I say as they load me into the alley.
Here. Some sort of this land.
Plug you through with drugs. Some say sugar and some say hugs.
I’m impartial, and stuck full of hotdog smell, skin, and the drug they keep pumping into the monitor. It’s full of static and flowers.
Another robot this soon. It looks like an aging football player with a toupee. They keep having these toupees. And I want to cry; it asks me what’s this.
It’s pie in your eye.
Later in the home of this woman: She had Nilla wafers and there’s a storm outside. I’m getting cold. This woman gives me cookies and paces up and back.
Upside down later…I have a sundae cake.
This dead body in the alley keeps changing colors.
It’s hard to say how this happened inside out of the colors.
I’m afraid to say I’m a detective. I’m on the case of some William Burroughs alien fiends that keep attacking the gravitation fields within my close understanding of spare ribs and antlers. You see how this had
The colors.
The robot walks up and has another Sylvester Stallone wig and picks me up and lobs me into the movie theater.
Had the line, but couldn’t use it.
When we had the truck we used to get to the lake.
Dead beach dwellers come in and out.
I sleep at night, in a GI Joe hole.
The robots come back in Arby’s clothes. I’m thinking about rap music and hoes. I’m thinking about how this awful smell that smells like rats smells like home.
This car I had used to drive. These smells I had they don’t equate. And this car is up for grabs.
I’m thinking
These colors…
“This is a very unusual set of clothing and hair for a something like you.”
“These are my ways of expressing my lust for city and state.”
“We don’t like it.”
The robots scatter. I’m looking around at the game booths and the meat stores. I’m thinking that no matter what happens, this is not happening.
The colors of the police robots - just upbeat bots. They mean nothing. But what I’m saying to you is that there was something after me.
They had it in my head this place where I was dead.
I tried to examine the pills that I took, but I took what I was given, and I taked what I could took.
It’s always explaining hard to understand that the drugs make you aware of the reality of the drugs and therefore prove to show that there is no reality and then you wake up back at the same bed with the same fish, crackers, and this one blender that you never use.
All the time.
The music is killing my head.
Gha
Gha
God
And under a spell we ride along and these men say nice things to the sky and we rest aside the grape fields and the forgotten sea.
I walk by it and I’m stopped by the need for mercy from this fragile wound in my hand. About the color of hair and red.
“My dear friend.” It’s these damn robots again.
“There’s something in the alley full of heads.” I say.
“That’s been there, he’s dead.”
It’s a fullback, it’s a fucking real mean, big one; you know what I mean. Jesus! These things grow to the size of tree fronds. They’ve been issuing the Bill model after some of the old history. Fucking large nose and a head full of toupee hair.
I sneeze and it looks at me and leaves. Something in the air.
I keep walking and eventually armored cars come buzzing down the streets.
Streets have street meat.
I walk down the alley and there’s a hotdog vendor. I walk to the stand, put my two cents in, and
Hotdog flavor up through the vents, hits me in the face and falling back, this mustard smell comes to my lips and the vendor forks some fake, plastic dead skin from the hide of a beached whale up my mouth. I start gnawing at it and he pulls away. I fall on the ground and the waiter draws me away convulsing. “The street lamps have timber like music.” I say as they load me into the alley.
Here. Some sort of this land.
Plug you through with drugs. Some say sugar and some say hugs.
I’m impartial, and stuck full of hotdog smell, skin, and the drug they keep pumping into the monitor. It’s full of static and flowers.
Another robot this soon. It looks like an aging football player with a toupee. They keep having these toupees. And I want to cry; it asks me what’s this.
It’s pie in your eye.
Later in the home of this woman: She had Nilla wafers and there’s a storm outside. I’m getting cold. This woman gives me cookies and paces up and back.
Upside down later…I have a sundae cake.
This dead body in the alley keeps changing colors.
It’s hard to say how this happened inside out of the colors.
I’m afraid to say I’m a detective. I’m on the case of some William Burroughs alien fiends that keep attacking the gravitation fields within my close understanding of spare ribs and antlers. You see how this had
The colors.
The robot walks up and has another Sylvester Stallone wig and picks me up and lobs me into the movie theater.
Had the line, but couldn’t use it.
When we had the truck we used to get to the lake.
Dead beach dwellers come in and out.
I sleep at night, in a GI Joe hole.
The robots come back in Arby’s clothes. I’m thinking about rap music and hoes. I’m thinking about how this awful smell that smells like rats smells like home.
This car I had used to drive. These smells I had they don’t equate. And this car is up for grabs.
I’m thinking
These colors…
“This is a very unusual set of clothing and hair for a something like you.”
“These are my ways of expressing my lust for city and state.”
“We don’t like it.”
The robots scatter. I’m looking around at the game booths and the meat stores. I’m thinking that no matter what happens, this is not happening.
The colors of the police robots - just upbeat bots. They mean nothing. But what I’m saying to you is that there was something after me.
They had it in my head this place where I was dead.
I tried to examine the pills that I took, but I took what I was given, and I taked what I could took.
It’s always explaining hard to understand that the drugs make you aware of the reality of the drugs and therefore prove to show that there is no reality and then you wake up back at the same bed with the same fish, crackers, and this one blender that you never use.
All the time.
The music is killing my head.
Gha
Gha
God
And under a spell we ride along and these men say nice things to the sky and we rest aside the grape fields and the forgotten sea.
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