## Monday, May 31, 2010

### Way to Kill a Man #37

My coworker Ted, or Theor, as he prefers to be called days like today when he wears his Norweigan viking tie, bought a label-maker for the office using the office credit card under the pretense that the office was drastically uncharted. To Ted, standard desk boundaries no longer sufficed. Claims had to be made.

--I have to know, unequivocally, to whom this stapler declares its allegience, he said, pointing it like a gun. I played Tom Petty from my computer, because fun things happen when I play Tom Petty.

The first thing you should know about my office is that laughing can cause a lot of wasted time. Of the eight people in the office, zero attempted a response. This is common for most interactions, but it can lead to errant behavior.

His first order of business was to print off 31 labels with the word "Everyone's" typed in bold and underlined. He adhered one to my overhead cabbinet and placed the rest inside. After such a successful test run, he turned to me.

Affectionately, -Poopy Poopy Poopy my dear boy, whattaya got goin on today? he said.

I chose the word "Emails" as my response.

He pursed his lips and made kissing noises as though enticing his apparently feline muse closer. Then he typed out a long one, hit print, and adhered the strip to his forehead. I was nervous of what interaction might come, but I looked anyway. It read: Theor.

Thankfully, Theor already moved on to find his next subject. He scanned the room with a dirty grin, his tongue flitting back and forth behind his teeth not un-sexually, pleading his muse to put out just a little bit more.

It turns out that Theor's muse puts out like a thirteen year old model UN girl with rabies.

Within eight minutes Theor had covered his entire face and neck (lips and orifices included) with labels. They often had nothing to do with him, or his face/neck. They said things like "Bottled", and "Talon". No one thought to stop him. Frankly, everyone, including me, ignored the guy as he typed and printed and typed and printed for forty minutes and even for the five minutes after he passed out and died from asphyxiation.

The second thing you should know about my office is that Tom Petty has been known to cause erratic behavior to all within.

### I Promise I Will Stop...

Just not anytime sooooon!

## Sunday, May 30, 2010

### The Gozer Abides

Last night I dreamt that Gozer took the form of Saron...
...needless to say I'm a little shaken up.

### Have A Seat

To keep the predators coming, I think they should let one guy a year win sex with a kid.

## Saturday, May 29, 2010

### This Is My Job

Little Girl: Guess what!
Me: What?
Little Girl: I ca-I can swiiiiim (breath) all the way from the laaaaadder (breath) all the way to the-the waaaaall (breath) without even drowning!
Me: Oh...my god.

/doesn't realize that drowning is fatal
//had to be saved earlier that afternoon
///indifferent parents

### The Sluice John-B

One of my first jobs was a blood donor. It was the summer of '99, and I didn't make much money. But in those days all us kids had our second incomes, what with all the pregnant women we had to take care of. It was known affectionately as moonlighting, and I chose as my moonlight vocation the scrub boy at a quaint family-owned slaughtering house just outside Newport. I saw my fair share of kill floors-- the magical place filled with the wandering spirits of unrepentant cows. But what is a kill floor, you ask? It's not as scary as it sounds. I will defer to Mr McClure....

"It's not really a floor. It's more of a steel grating that allows material to sluice through so it can be collected and exported."

That's right, Troy. Except in this case, it is a floor. It's a floor with chains of hooks hanging down from the ceiling and buckets of entrails lying around. The floor was stained with....cotton candy, and the hooks were rusted with....cotton candy juice. In the freezers directly adjacent to the kill floor were huge carcasses hanging from hooks. But you are right about one thing, Troy: collection and exportation is the name of the game.

You may not realize this, but the cow is the 21st century whale, and the faceless, all-american meat producer is the infamous (that is, more than famous) generic Aleutian chief. Buckets, and I' talkin barrels of cow guts were lined up around the facility. And this aint your grandma's guts neither -- we're talking windpipes, rectum, whole organ systems, mostly the circulatory variety, although the vestibular system made an appearance now and again (don't ask how). And where does this offallular cornucopia finish it's terrible journey from grass-fed monotony to spikes and chainsaws?

## Friday, May 28, 2010

### Furry Fan Fiction: Part Two

The gold moon shoned on Lunacrecia's gold eye and her blue eye too. Then her crescent moon birthmark on her back shined. As the moon shined over me my stomach grumbled and I felt the change coming hard. I closed my eyes and felt the fur growing out of my skin and my clothes tearing off. My teeth grew out and I roared like a lion.
We were both transforming together!
In a couple minutes I was roaring so loud that the glass windows shook. My muscles got huge and when the change stopped I howled softly and opened my dark eyes. Lunacrecia was no longer a little cat-girl, she was a cat-lady! She was almost my height in her new body when I was a man but now I was much taller and had to look down into her eyes. They were the same but, even prettier. Her fur was softer when I caressed her naked shoulder and she looked more like a human lady too. She purred but my body didn't shiver even though my brain did. As a Werebear I am too tough to shiver.
"We changed together!" she said.
"Yea." I said. "You look so different but your voice is the same!"
"It's cool, I know but I'm the same Lunacrecia as always." she said. That comforted me and I pulled her into a Werebear hug. My muscles earthquaked with new powers. I had to be careful not to crush here in my true body. When your a Werebear you've got to remember these things, it can be dangerous.
"Should we kiss?" I said. I was so excited when she leaned up on her back paws to touch noses. Then our cold wet noses touched and we smooched a long time. Then we shared tongues and I felt her fangs for the first time and her sandpaper tongue too. It was electricity!
---
We danced and kissed under the cloudless moon for a while and than I told her to follow me. As a Werebear I was very charming and cunning and knew just what to do when a beautiful cat-lady falls in love with you. She followed me into my bedroom where she would finally be my gal-pal forever.
"Ha-ha! My little kitty bed looks so silly because I'm transformed now!" she said. Boy, was she right and we laughed a lot. After that I sat her on the bed next to me and she put a hand on my furry and big chest. It made my hairs on my chest stand up and I was worried, she wouldn't like it but she did.
"Now that we love each other you know what comes next?" I said.
"Yes." she said. I nodded and leaned in to kiss her more and she took it.
---
We spent a long night wearing out our knees. It was perfect and just like a movie. Their was even lovely music playing in my head the hole time! After all that we laid next to each other and listened to each other growling lowly and talked too. About everything we talked, even my dumb boring life! But then Lunacrecia dropped a bombsshell on us both.
"Robert." she said.
"Yes Lunacrecia, my darling." I said.
"You have to know something." she said. She nipped my ear gently and I liked it but used the force of my Werebear strength to bring her face back to mine. I stared into her two-color eyes and used my will to make her continue.
"I'm too strong for you to change your mind. Now you've got to tell me, missy." I said. And she knew she had no choice.
"Robert, I uh I uh I-" she said.
"SPEAK!" I said. It was the roar of a thousand bears.
"You have to know this now that we're together forever. You were my first and only love and you saved my life two years ago and we just made our love true. I can feel it with my telepathy by the moonlight, so I know that this secret is true even though I just realized it a second ago. I'm pragnant..."

### Pill-Popping Pre-Schoolers

Yes, Pill-Popping Pre-Schoolers. They're everywhere. Taking 6 hr nap-times, so doped up that their slimy Gerber baby doodoo butter is spraying out like hog death all over the letter parade. You should hear their slang these days.

Mama = drug pusher
Balloon= nitrous tank & balloon combo
Kitty = crack, rock, salt, rock salt, meth, baby cat

And it's not just a few bad apples. In 2009 alone there were over 26 hundred dozen million cases of babies exhibiting this behavior.

There's no question that these babies are in danger, and it's our failure as adults that we haven't the heart to stop them. That's the tragedy. These aides and teachers and parents just stand idly as they shout and scream and kick and fling their disgustingly amorphous poop until they hand over the prescriptions and a hammer with which to grind them. And who can blame them? I can't. They're just so cute when they're tranquilized.

## Thursday, May 27, 2010

### Furry Fan Fiction Fun: Part One

It was late out. The day had grown late and my hunger to transform was late too.
After a hard day of working and holding back my hunger I knew it was almost time to reveal my true form and stretch out for an night of animal pleasures. It was almost time for the moon to get out from under the clouds and let me be what I really am. When I pulled into the driveway in my car I could almost taste how good it would feel to be myself once again, and that's when I saw Lunacrecia. Lunacrecia was one of the only poeple who knew my secret love-lust, but of course she wasn't really a person! I found Lunacrecia in a dumpster two years back when she was just a stray kitten and I was still uncomfortable about sharing my Werebear form with others. We were fast friends and she lived with me now but only as friends, even thought I knew I loved her.
"Hey Lunacrecia!" I said.
"Hey Robert!" she said. Her whiskers flickered up as she grinned up at me. "How was work?" she said.
"It was okay I guess. I really hate my boss he is such a jerk and he doesn't respect me, even when I tell him about brilliant ways to save the company thousands and thousands of dollars a year just by doing some simple recalculations on our networking systems. He's lucky I don't change into Werebear form and show him who's the real boss!" I said.
Lunacrecia laughed. "Ha-ha! You're right, no normal human could handle your true form." she said. And she was right.
I nodded and laughed too and we went inside our modest home.
---
After dinner, Lunacrecia was sitting on my lap and cleaning her paws while I was nervously reading the newspaper. She always called them "funny papers" and it always made me laugh hard. She looked beautiful in the light of the kitchen. I had changed the bulbs to the special energy saving kind not too long ago, and boy was I glad I did. She was gorgeous. I wanted nothing more then to tell her how I felt but I was too scared.
"Gorgeous." I said by accident. But it was too late.
"Hmmm?" she said. Her purring stopped and for a second I realized how her warm body made my lap feel like growing out of these man's clothes. Her eyes were so honest and perfect. One was gold, like the moon, and one was blue, like the ocean. Also she had an crescent moon birthmark on her back that made me love her even more.
"I uh I uh I uh-" I said. But I couldn't stop mumbling. She leaned up, her slinky body running up my chest, strong and thick even as a man, and licked my cheek.
"Out with it mister! You don't need to be shy we've been living together, and friends ever since you saved me from being a stray kitten two years ago and you can tell me everything!" she said. And that's when I knew I had to tell her right now or I might never have the guts, even in Werebear form.
"I love you, Lunacrecia. Your just so beautiful and perfect and I love everything about you. You don't even judge me or fear me when I'm a Werebear. I was just too chicken to say so earlier." I said. The confession lifted some of the weight off me, but now there was another weight there. And it wasn't just Lunacrecia on my chest!
What will she say now? What if she doesn't love me!
---
But than later she said she loved me too and has known about my feelings for some time which I should have known because her moon-powers give her telepathy too. She licked my nose a lot since we now both loved each other equally and could be honest lovers. I knew right then and their that we would consummate our love that night and finally be truly together. Lunacrecia was my forever gal-pal.
"It's almost time for the moon to rise and for me to transform." I said.
"I know." she said. "But here's something you didn't know and I kept a secret until I was truly in love with my one true sweetheart. I have a transformation as well."
And then the moon peeked through the cloudy night and I will never forget what happened next...

### CTRL+V for Vendetta

PgUp will always hold a place in my heart, for reasons that don't need to be stated explicitly here but could have been in lieu of this wordy explanation I'm now writing about why is won't, dammit, it won't. (damn, should have used parenthesis -- can't pick my battles) . okay, its the simpsons. But my favorite keyboard command is, you guessed it, CTRL +V. The PASTE. The old lick and stick. There's not really a lot more to say about it. So I'll just demonstrate:

I hate birds.

## Wednesday, May 26, 2010

### "You Never Forget The First Time You Do It For Money."

But would I if I could?
---
Ha-ha! Why would I? How could I! Oh, and what creaks would form in the aftermath of forgetting! My personality might literally sever. And what would that do to the fabric of reality, not just for me but everyone around me!? Marty McFly, eat your slowly vanishing heart out. Not to mention the fact that we've completely overlooked the scientific improbability of this question ever being verified. "That's not how memory works," as a friend would say.
The truth is I remember it with a weird fondness. There seems to be an ever-dwindling well of shame from which fiery moments like these can be doused, so this one in particular retains some heated shimmer.

### The Great White North

I was in Canada this weekend. I'd never been before. Conclusion: it's exactly like America only colder and more passive aggressive.

My trip started out well when immediately after the plane landed, a severe thunderstorm hit Toronto. FUN FACT! If there's a thunderstorm at or near an airport, you can't get off the plane because the lightning strikes in the big open area like that would kill you! And the ground-crew can't go out to direct the plane in either. So we waited on the tarmac for 2 or 3 hours. I was actually totally fine with it. I had my copy of The Stand and I am pretty chatty with strangers when the right circumstances present themselves. I was cracking jokes about being Snake Plissken and about being on an episode of Lost. I was met with blank stares. My initial thought was that maybe they didn't have those things in Canada. But then I realized that no, they did indeed know what Lost and Escape from New York were. They just didn't want to talk to me. But unlike New Yorkers, they were too polite to make it apparent to me. In New York, the conversation might go down something like this:

Me: Hey, willya look at us? Stuck here on AN ISLAND... In a PLANE... with a bunch of STRANG--

Other person: SHUT THE FUCK UP!

In Canada, though, I kept chatting away, they kept responding in a non-committal fashion until I kind of bored myself into ending the conversation. There's this Canadian passive-aggressiveness that comes off as nice but isn't really. I dunno. Also, it snowed up there on Saturday night. IT WAS MAY 8TH. MAY 8TH. The eighth day of the fifth month of the year. And it snowed. Did I mention I'm moving to San Diego in September? Because I am. And I didn't realize how much of an improvement that's going to be weather-wise until this weekend.

I went to a mall. All the stores were the same. The ad campaigns were pretty much the same.

And they love hockey up there.

Eh? Oot and aboot.

//laughs
///cries

## Sunday, May 9, 2010

### A Message from Canadian Tuxedo

via text:

"My brother's laptop won't connect. Post anything if you get this - even if it is only this message. I love you. I... always have."

### Happy Mother's Day

Yeah, I know, yesterday's post would have been more apropos for today (see Mothers, Jewish). But I'm writing these in advance since I'm in Canada this weekend and I don't think moose have learned how to use the Internet yet. So I'll be celebrating Mother's Day at the Hockey Hall of Fame. Or at this place, which is basically my idea of heaven. If my mother read this, I'd say "sorry I'm not going to be there to celebrate." But she doesn't. And in balance, all things considered, that's probably a good thing.

So go ahead everyone, enjoy celebrating a holiday that Hallmark invented to sell more greeting cards... Okay, turns out that's not actually true. That's another one of those things I've been saying for years that I probably got from The Simpsons.

Happy Mother's Day everyone. Go thank your mother for (in no particular order):

a. not aborting you

b. going through the pain of birthing you

c. putting up with your shit

## Saturday, May 8, 2010

5.) Giving directions to someone who's clearly in a hurry.

4.) Holding the door for a man (if you're a man).

2.) Cleaning when no one is around and sees you cleaning.

1.) Saying "You're Welcome".

*painfully awful inspiration for tonight's post.

### A Borhani Bedroom Moment, brought to you by Manischewitz

David: Let's just see here. I'll just send my friend Mony a quick g-g-g-g-GChat. Well hello Mony! Nice to see you again. Internetically-speaking. *snort* No, I'm just a bit under the weather. Just a little, you know, a little phlegmy. I got shmutz all over my nose and pillow and I'm completely shvitzed from the fever. Maybe I'll just see what my J-Date responses are looking like.

...

Well helllooooooo Shoshannah. I'd say that skirt's hardly kosher, if you know what I mean.

/door opens without a knock

Mother: DAAVID! What are you doing?

David: Motheeeerrrrr. I told you to knock before coming in my room. I'm writing my blog and chatting to Mony.

Mother: Ooooh, how IS Mony? Tell his mother I say hello. You know, you could learn something from him. He makes Mony money.

David: I know, Mother. We've been through this.

Mother: I'm just saying, if you made a little more cash, maybe you could meet a nice girl. I told you, the girls down at the beauty parlor, you know, Sadie and Bess and Rebecca? Well, they told me that Francine's daughter Sarah is in town to her residency. HER RESIDENCY. She's a doctor, you know? And apparently, quite the looker...

David: I'm a doctor too, Mother!

Mother: Oh, a PhD. Bubkiss. That and a dollar fifty'll get you a cup of coffee.

David: Mother! I'm a leading biochemist.

Mother: Yes, yes. Very nice David. But I wanted a REAL doctor, someone who can take care of me when I'm old.

David: I'm perfectly capable of taking care of...

Mother: You can't even take care of yourself! You haven't got pants on! It's almost 2:30 in the afternoon. What? You can't just sit here all day in your underpants playing with your ding-dong.

David: MOTHER!

Mother: Fine. Fine. I know when I'm not wanted. I guess I'll just go sit in the living room and wait to die.

...

David: Uuugggghhhh. Yes mother. Of course I do. I'm sorry.

Mother: Good. Then put some pants on. You've got a date with Mitzy Schoenbaum's daughter Delilah at 6:30. I made you reservations at Minksy's.

...

David: Oy vey.

## Friday, May 7, 2010

### A Retrospective

"I mean, yeah, it's easy to look back and say you would have done things differently. Do I do that? Well, I try not to, but yeah, I do. It's not like I was my idea. I didn't make me. I didn't market me shabbily. People said I was going to fail, and then everyone thought it was a big deal when I failed. Like, do you know what it's like to be born with people telling you that you're a terrible idea? I think I'm lucky I lasted as long as I did, to be honest. Sure, they had ads showing people enjoying my soda-coffee taste, but those people were paid to look like they were having a good time. And I think everyone knew it. I certainly did. It's rough, sitting around on the set of those commercials while the actors talk about how foul you are. Like, I'm right here, you're holding me in your hand, and that's how you're going to talk about me? And we're supposed to do a kissing scene later? That's showbiz, I guess. I'm kind of glad I never took off, really. I'm just kind of a novelty act now, like Barry Bonds and the Pope. No one really believes in me, they're just glad I was a big deal once- but they're all glad to be back in their comfort zones. In a way, so am I, I just get to hang out with Mountain Dew Code Red all week. But there's no way I'm going to hang out with Crystal Pepsi. Shit's gross, man."

### Would you go to the Dark Side?

Let's pretend for a minute that the prequels never happened.

In fact, let's pretend that for more than a minute. I wish they never had happened. For proof of why, go watch this guy review Episodes 1 & 2.

But, in the case that you were Luke Skywalker, would you have gone to the Dark Side of the force. Let's break this down into pros and cons of going down the Hershey highway of the force:

Pro: Red lightsaber.

It looks cooler. A lesser Jedi than Ben Kenobi would be shitting his robes right now. Jedi and Sith garb and accessories are like lingerie: when in doubt, always go with red or black. The light blue shit that Obi-Wan rocks is lame. Lamer? Luke's kelly-green number at the end of "Return of the Jedi." "I see you have constructed a new lightsaber... and it's a fruity color of green. YOU'RE NO SON OF MINE! I WANT YOU OUT OF MY HOUSE!" ... Sorry, that was my father talking.

Con: Hideous facial disfigurement.

Luke: handsome. Han Solo: dashing. Leia: quite pretty. Chewbacca: a hirsute Adonis. Palpatine and Vader (under mask): severely disfigured. What good is a red lightsaber when you want to puke every time you look in the mirror?

Pro: Looser moral boundaries/killing underlings with reckless abandon.

Okay, you COULD do this as a Jedi as well, but you only WOULD do it if you'd gone to the Dark Side. And the way that officer's lip quivers makes me want to choke him. Choke him like you choke a chicken.

Con: Feared, not loved.

Is this a con? I don't know. Machiavelli disagrees.

And don't let his disproportionately small head and bulbous arms fool you, the guy knew his shit.

In conclusion:... Wait, what was I talking about again? Star Wars, lightsabers, nerdness... whatever. I probably wouldn't go to the dark side. It'd be more fun but I'm kind of a prude. And Luke and Leia only do it missionary. Incest Missionary, a novella by Edgar Allen Poe.

## Thursday, May 6, 2010

### Grape Expectations

GrimASSman69
: So, baby u like the birgers and stuff, I kno Ronal', I hook u up

SaylrpOOn: LOL you know him? Awesome! I'd love to hang out sometime!

GrimASSman69: Yeh I like ur pics n I'm thinkin about u in the ballpit

SaylrpOOn: Oh yeah? Hope no one finds out ;) we've been chatting...I'm not allowed to IM!

GrimASSman69: Aww baby don't tell nobody, ur my little pet ur like my Dragonballpit

SaylrpOOn: Ohh G-Daddy you make me feel good when you say that...

GrimASSman69: Baby I no how 2 make u feel so good

SaylrpOOn: OMG! *toats blushing!!!!*

GrimASSman69: What u say babe, I cum over show u how to ride the GrimDawg?

SaylrpOOn: umm...okay...my parents aren't home for a while.....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~1 HOUR LATER~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grimace: Hey baby u home?

Sailor Moon: Hey! I'm in the kitchen! I made cookies, hope that's okay! Come on in!

Grimace: Girl u know I like them crunchymunches, but not like that green neighba C-Monster! He one crazy neighba!

Sailor Moon: Hahaha just a minute!

Chris Hansen, Dateline NBC : Oh hello. Chris Hansen, Dateline NBC. Have a seat.

Grimace: WHAT THE McFUCK?!

Grimace: Oh man, I got the wrong address dawg I'm hurr for a dentist but I don't see none sorry for botherin' ur day n all

Chris Hansen, Dateline NBC : I said I think you should take a seat. That girl you've been chatting with is 13. So that seat is your only friend in this room right now.

...

......

..............

.......................

Chris Hansen, Dateline NBC : ..............

Grimace: Shit Chris b cool dawg, I'm sorry I didn't know nothin bout no girl, I only came to tutor her bout nutritional factionals Ronal' knows her dawg not me but I don't even know bout a girl what girl? Nutritionals.

Chris Hansen, Dateline NBC: Look, "GrimASSman69" I have copies of everything you wrote to her, so let's see what's in the bag. It better be colorful food pyramid charts. But I bet you a McRib Sandwich that there aren't any. I think you're trying to serve me a McFib Sandwich.

Grimace: Shit dawg ain't nothin' n my bag just some Happy Meal Toys and-

Chris Hansen, Dateline NBC : Let's take a look in that bag. You stay there!

/opens bag

..........

Chris Hansen, Dateline NBC : I see a whole lot of purple, but no food pyramids.

......................

...................

....................

- fin -