Monday, February 28, 2011

Everythingwentbetterthanexpected.jpg

THIS KID

I Am Mr. Big



The funniest thing that ever came out of you...was me.

School District of Ridiculousness

So, back in November I got a "job offer" from Ridiculous School District.

Two days later I got an e-mail from the Principal informing me that their HR department filled the position and I was out of a job. /Sorry

Today, I got home to this e-mail from their HR department in response to my sending them some general information back in August. It basically asks me to send them the same things I brought them for my interview in November.

show details 4:10 PM (32 minutes ago)
Good Afternoon:

I have received your application for employment with the School District of Ridiculousness for Teacher of FUNFUN. We are always looking for talented professionals. We hope that you will understand our commitment to selecting the best qualified applicants and the time required for such a thorough process. Can you let me know what your certification status is for the content areas listed above?

The School District’s current hiring practices are in compliance with the requirements of both No Child Left Behind legislation and state law. The School District requires documentation to verify that you possess a valid certificate. In order to secure a position as an appointed teacher with our district, you must be able to provide documentation supporting that you are certified or are in the process of becoming certified. Please scan/email me a copy of either of the documents below in your response to me.

The following documents are acceptable as proof of certification :

1. A copy of your Instructional I or Intern certificate

2. A printout from the Dept. of Education web site (Certification Status) that verifies that you have a Instructional I/II or Intern certificate. (Certification status must be listed as Approved or Assigned on Hand).


If you do not meet either of these requirements, please e-mail me your status regarding Certification.


Additionally, know that we will be happy to assist you with any questions or concerns that you might have.

Best Regards,
Insane Lady

HR Business Partner Office of Really Slow Teacher Finding
School District of Ridiculousness

"Tell me and I'll forget. Show me, and I may not remember. Involve me, and I'll understand". - Native American Saying



I Replied with anger:

Hello Lady,

I am replying to your inquiry into my certification. I currently hold an Instructional I FUNFUN certificate and a SILLINESS program specialist. I am currently working as a long-term substitute until the end of May 2011. I would also like to let you know that I already interviewed with Dr. Old Man at Crazy School in November. While he originally made an employment offer, he informed me via e-mail two days later that Human Resources filled the position he offered me. Both Old Man and Human Resources should have all of my information as I was under the impression that he was sending my paperwork to HR. Please let me know if you have any more questions or need any other paperwork.

Respectfully,

Jaybro

Respectfully?

or disrespectfully???

(we all know which one)


Also- Maybe if I involved them, they'd understand?



Sunday, February 27, 2011

I've Killed Myself So Many Times

I don't even exist anymore.



AND YET I CANNOT FORGET IT.
ANY OF IT.



edit:


BECAUSE THEY JUST KEPT COMING.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Forget Science Fiction:

I'M BUSY.



Awww yeaaa, that's it Ching-Li...
Get under the fungus.
Yesss.

I SAID I'M BUSY GET OUT OF HERE!

Friday, February 25, 2011

Worst. McDonalds. Ever

McDonalds Restaurant, San Diego Airport, San Diego, California.

At least four errors committed by the serving staff in the three minutes I was standing there waiting for my delicious, nutritious Double Cheeseburger and 6-Piece McNuggets for the bargain bottom price of $7.92. Airport pricing is bullshit.

These errors included:

- Mistaking an "apple juice" order for an "apple pie." (Though why the woman who ordered didn't just point to the apple juice is a wonder to me. Wasn't she curious as to why her apple juice was taking so long? Did she think they were fresh-squeezing it?)

- Mistaking a "double cheeseburger" ordered for "two McDoubles." (2... = 2.... except when it equals 4? THERE'S TOO MANY PATTIES!)

- Reading the order # "35" as "Three-Oh-Five." Loudly. Over and over again. Louder and louder. Shouting into the airport concourse. And then getting huffy when a gentleman walks over, from right next to the counter, to claim order number "thirty-five." (Though, again, why he didn't jump in sooner to inquire instead of letting them yell into the ether is beyond me.)

Show Me Your Moves!

Big night tonight big night alright gotta get ready gotta focus an---
Hey there whoah there who you think you are huh pussy-face?
You know what I got planned I got a long night banging ladies;
Throwing bills around like a sultan so you better get out of my way mister---
What did you say your name was again?
Listen bro you better stop copying me like I says I got a lot of trim;
Tons of trim and I've got no time for little prim posies to slaughter.
So get on out of here shoo fly don't piss me off or else---
What? What did you say to me quit dancing around and I'll show you.
Let's dance okay you like to dance I can dance shit I need the practice;
For tonight you know oh yea you know take this!

4gifs.com

I'm Salty as Hell

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Narcotics Purchase: San Diego Edition

DUDE: Hey bro.

BRO: Hey dude.

DUDE: So, I was thinking of going and buying some illegal drugs.

BRO: Dude! Great idea.

DUDE: I know.

BRO: Whatcha thinkin'? A little cocaine? Some ecstasy? Maybe a little Ell-Ess-Deeeeee?

DUDE: Nah, bro. I'm thinking some marijuana. Some weeeeeeed.

/record scratch

BRO: Dude.

...

DUDE: Why are you looking at me like that?

BRO: That's. Not. Cool.

DUDE: What's wrong with weed.

BRO: NOTHING.

Catual Encunters

Lady: Hey, mister, can I ask you a question?
Me: /keeps walking
Lady: Please! It will just take a second!
Me: Okay. What.
Lady: Look, I'm really sorry to bother you, and I know you were walking but could...
Me: /turns around and resumes walking
Lady: OH FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU I HOPE YOU GET HIT BY A FUCKING CAR!

This woman was not homeless. And this was the middle of a crowded sidewalk. And she screamed it.


DJ PUSSY POSSE SAYS "NOT COOL"

Smile Through The Pain, Kids!

Alexander: Hey, Judy! Ever hear of Time Study?
Judy: Sure haven't, what's that!
Alexander: Well, Judy...with the invention of many of our fine electric appliances, modern engineering and sociology have combined into a utterly stupid examination of how our mechanical and industrial masturbation can be used to simplify and automate many of the daily chores that we used to consider the definition of character in industrial human civilization.
Judy: But Alex, won't that displace hundreds of thousands of jobs requiring skilled labor in the national workforce?
Alexander: Ha, well of course Judy! But thankfully, those jobs are all held by Negros, Orientals, and the more undesirable European immigrants. We swell, white, upper-class Americans with our double-standards and casual disregard of reality risk only the promise of easier living and the degradation of motherhood over the value of good, hard labor; none of which we do!
Judy: That all sounds dandy, Alex, but I can't say I understood any of it.
Alexander: Naturally, Judy, because you're a woman. Your smaller, weaker mind is too busy worrying about what's in the oven and how fertile and attractive you are. I, on the other hand, benefit from innumerable male-focused advantages our culture affords me, at the small cost of my soul and any critical thinking skills! That allows me to wander aimlessly into made up professions, like Time Study for example, to squander my years of steady and extravagant income in the pursuit of alcoholism and sexual repression.
Judy: I don't mean to seem like a tart, Alex, but you would be interested in heading to the dance with me? You could suggest going steady and then grope me against my will in that shiny new Cadillac of yours!
Alexander: Judy, you had me at "tart." But unfortunately I've got to run upstairs and give your big brother the fucking of his lifetime! If you hear his soft whimpers later on, don't be alarmed. It just means I decided to finish in his throat and then break his stupid nose.
Judy: That's a Strawberry Shortcake, isn't it?
Alexander: Oh, Judy! I would shut that smart mouth of yours unless you want to be deemed a lesbian and lynched!
Judy: Okay!
...





Tuesday, February 22, 2011

"Hey, Kimmo! KIMMO!"

"Great job in overtime, Kimmo!"




Eat dirt, Chris.


This Is Just A Punk Rock Song


Take the 18 minutes and treat yourself. You've... you've earned it.

UPDATE: Okay. I just started watching this video and I actually had to close my eyes and just listen to the song. The person who made the video just cobbled together images of right wing things and then evil things (catch the cartoon "The Penguin"!) to make... some... point? It's so wonderful when stupid people go out of there way to make fun of other things for being stupid and end up coming off stupid themselves. I'm as liberal as the next theater-kid but videos like this are what makes me want to vote for Ron Paul, buy a shotgun and spend the next 15-30 years claiming my own personal secession from a mountaintop in Oregon.

/doesn't know where Oregon is
//doesn't know how to operate a shotgun
///would miss gummi bears and the Internet in a week

Wanted : Archaeology Professor

Oxford University
Office of The Registrar
--FOR ADMINISTRATIVE USE ONLY--

NAME:

Last: Jones

First: Henry

M.I. : W.

Suffix: Jr.

EDUCATION:

B.A., Linguistics, University of Chicago

Ph.D., Archaeology, Universite de Sorbonne

EXPERIENCE:

Professor, Whitperson University

Researcher, Peru, Egypt, Shanghai, India, Spain, Italy, England, Jordan

Colonel, Office of Strategic Services

PUBLICATIONS:

How to dig in the right place : A longitudinal study of shifting Egyptian sandmasses: Jones, 1966; Journal of Archaeology and Field Science, pp. 44 - 56

Ethical issues in field research : Jones, 1964; Standard Practices and Guidelines in Modern Academia; Whitperson University press, pp. 127 - 146

Indian cultures and the impact of prolonged field studies within nativist subsettlements : Jones, 1959; World Forum on Archaelogy and Anthropology; vol. III, nbr. 7, pp 15 - 31

REFERENCES:

Dr. Marcus Brody
Dr. Abner Ravenwood
Sallah Mohammed Faisel el-Kahir
Top. Men.

OTHER RELEVANT SKILLS:

Punching, Kicking, Swinging, Biting, Drinking, Eating, Fucking, Swearing, Punching, Yelling, Screaming, Punching, Whipping, Driving, Running, Swimming, Jumping, Disguising, Punching, Shooting, Flying, Driving, Selling, Hiding, Stealing, Punching, Talking, Reading, Writing, Punching, Rescuing, Surprising, Overcoming, Hanging, Researching, Remembering, Teaching, Thinking, Punching, Cooking, Mapping, Floating, Sleeping, Healing, Hurting, Reloading, Falling, Thwarting, Avenging, Laughing, Joking, Punching, Riding, Pursuing, Evading, Digging, Climbing, Jonesing

Monday, February 21, 2011

Wasted Days, Dreamless Nights

I slept until 5:30 PM on Saturday.

I haven't done this since I was a teenager.

It's probably just mid-level depression. But there it was. I slept for 15 hours in a night. WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE LATELY??? HUH? WHAT?? FUCK YOU.

True, I wasted a whole day at a time when I barely have a minute to spare to write for the Sleepover. True, I'm now so far behind on my work as to render "catching up" a completely meaningless thought experiment. But I slept till 5:30. I didn't see daylight. And I did this without the aid of drugs or alcohol. It was absurd.

Thank god that it's Benjamin Franklin's birthday so that I can catch up a little today.

Free Concert Tonight!

Jacob's Ladder

OY!
Cap'n Firebeard at'chor service, me hearties! And how can a gentle man borne as me be worthy to such a fine crew? A story!? A tale uh some weathered sea dog to whet'chor Southern lust! So be it.
Sit thee down and listen well...
There was I, four feet to danglin' from the hempen halter! The hangman, a salty one-eyed son of a bitch, grinnin' gold and ready to brand me into Davy Jone's eternal service was all twas keepin' me neck from straightenin' out sum'pin fierce. Yars truly was starin' into the frothy yawns of a world about to pass, no schemes to spare. It was the end, lovelies!
The bastard's seaweed lips parted and sum'pin came stinkin' up. "Let's see ya hoist that rag now, pirate-slime!" he belched. Oh, I was done in! One off! So many songs unsung! Do ya hear it, chil'ren? The final desp'rit gasps uh yar beloved hero!? Ya're not alone, lil' lubbers.
Hornswaggled by Death 'imself, I cast off a final prayer...a bargain to whatever gods would take and warrant my pitiful soul!
"Spare yar humble servant!" I bellowed, "AND ALL ON MY ACCOUNT BE YOURS!" Sum'pin greater than we must've been listenin' that day, my babbies! Must've known all I'd stashed away in me years of freebootin' and plunder! 'Cause not a moment 'fore I was to come tumblin' back to the maker than did a 'orrible gust rise from the tidewaters. A gale blustered me would-be murd'rur off the gallows and he was dashed upon the rocks; his neck and not mine snapped on that sacrificial platter! The same magic wind sliced me free uh me grim collar, and sooner than you could seal a hogshead were I back with me duffle, jaw full'a steel and climbing that long ladder to me vessel and the oceans uh freedom beyond!
Since then, young lads, I hammer the drums uh thanks to that phantom in the winds. I beat on, bless'd immortal by sum'pin wit no name. And if ya listen good, ears high to the whistlin' dark, you just may hear me gamble repeated.

...And all on my account be yours...

Be warned, young picaroons: ya make a deal with devils, and ya just may become one.


Sunday, February 20, 2011

Look Whofleck!

Just Another




Lonely Pacific Northwest Dogswim.
I should have painted a frame.

m4t


Definition two.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Becoming

Dorn set the Amplifier back in its casing and reclined. It felt good removing its tight weight from his grotesquely enlarged skull. He stared at it fondly, smiling. He was proud.
Then he noticed the dead clumps of hair that had come off along with the device and the moment was spoiled. Then they were burning, in his mind and on the desk. With a controlled fit he extinguished his rage and waited as the ribbons of stinking smoke dissipated. Although visibly vanished, the matter that once was a part of the organism Dorn Ricker, something of them was hovering. Dorn recognized this remnant after a moment of study and reacted as swiftly as he had before. He removed the atmosphere from his office with a ear-shattering howl.
Much better, he thought.
This minor holocaust reminded him of his efforts upon the demons in the caves. Oh, the mental gymnastics employed to make them turn upon the hiveminders! The irony of uniting broken minds in unity against an entity that sought the very same! His earlier pleasures regained, Dorn searched to enjoy this moment more thoroughly and removed the gravity.
Sweet weightlessness...his blood flowed in steady bursts with a heart long robbed of unconscious function; it was in Dorn's control now, like as nearly everything else. And, in time, just everything.
He was above his desk, floating near the ceiling in peaceful reflection. These breaks were still necessary, but less so than in cycles past when all of this was first set into motion. Total Awareness is exhausting, he thought, upside-down three feet in the air. I deserve this.
But then the Earth-lights caught his tiny eye and the halos of fuzzy light upset him so he shut them off. He vanquished all light in his office and wallowed in its absence. Back, he thought, back back back. Dorn spun himself in such a way that the top of his head became the centrifugal focus. He was rotating upon his enormous mind, the room around him; the ship, the stars, etc. And with things just the way they would be, Dorn was very happy.
He would not need reading or even the promise of writing. His Amplifier was just a crutch, part of the rehabilitation for his changed mind. His work now required no deciphering of exterior minds or cramping them under the will of his own. Dorn needed only feel what things become, and that would make them so.
"Great-Father, praises be." A grin showed.
"Ha-ha ha! And blessings in the red sun see!"
His hysterical laughter set Dorn spinning faster and faster. The blackness created began to swirl and spill into the whirlpool of glee. Light bled in.
He heard a strange pop but hesitated, too enthralled to prematurely cancel his joy. Instead he succumbed to it. He savored it like a fine orgasm. He let himself last there, a mutated and fleshy simulacrum of all black holes, his pleasure forever corralled in his own event horizon. Dorn ignored the seeping light for his own indulgence.
And it was all the time they needed.

Friday, February 18, 2011

I Have A Flask...

I have a flask that says somebody loves me.
I have a flask and it is never full.
I have a flask, but I keep it hidden when the company comes snooping or ladies are about.
I have a flask that says, "Forget the past and the women and the phantom failures."
I have a flask and it is my flask and it is my life.
I have a flask. Not a jug or a glass. I don't need to spell things out for my flask.
I have a flask, and I think I should not have a flask.
I have a flask that says:

Craigslist Matchmaker : Jesus Christ, Come on You Guys Edition

Posting an ad on craigslist is not like sending an email. You have to go through a whole registration process to prove you're not a robot and prove you're not trying to sell an infant. I use "prove" in the loosest, most general way possible here. But still, people bothered to post these ads.


Nookies And Cookies - 29 (NYC)


Date: 2011-02-18, 7:56PM EST


Anyone want my cookies during our nookies! Lets get drunk! Probably one of the more genuinely appealing ads ever posted.

tgif - 25 (Downtown)


Date: 2011-02-18, 12:06PM EST


I am in need of affection and a lot more . So I am seeking a ltr from a loving mature that's funny and looking to start a relationship with a cute plus size female. Bring out the loving mature, paw. Plus size = normal size + years of nookies and cookies.

AND FO DA LAYDAYSSSSSSSS

Last-minute Friday night plans - 29 (Midtown)


Date: 2011-02-18, 10:14PM EST


I was considering staying in, and now I'm serious about going out. Is there another fun, spontaneous, attractive person who's interested in meeting someone new and having a conversation? I'm a six-foot tall, fit, white guy with some style and class. To prove you're not spam please write Spontaneous in the subject line. TRY TO KEEP UP!!! TEEHEEHEE! /does taxes SO CRAZY!

Seeking Victoria's Secret Model (West Village)


Date: 2011-02-18, 10:10PM EST


If you are reading this then this warning is for you. Every word you read of this useless fine post is another second off your life. Don't you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments? Get the fuck out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. STOP porn and masturbation. Prove you're alive, lively up Yourself
stop posting idiots posts, on here "i want a tall, dark and handsom man, +6'', succesful, must make over 75,000, smile with dimples", WAKE THE FUCK UP!!!, if you dont change your attitude, you gonna stay single, the rest of your life, like the rest of women out here, If you don't claim your humanity you will become a statistic. You have been warned. I just liked this one. But still...why take the time to warn these people? Oh. Because you want to get laid. Damn bro, FRESH ANGLE. PLAYAZ GONNA PLAYYY




    Thursday, February 17, 2011

    Infinite Foods

    Foods I can eat an infinite amount of:

    1.) Drunk Pizza
    2.) Goldfish
    3.) Beef Jerky
    4.) Wheat Thins
    5.) Carrot Sticks
    6.) Grapes
    7.) Saltines with Ginger Ale
    8.) Skittles
    9.) Ziti with red sauce
    10.) Jedi

    The above list comprises ten foods that, if put in front of me, I will devour until they are gone as if willpower was the Dutch word for "transducer" and thus never came up in conversation in Dutch, which is a language I don't even speak. It is shameful to admit these things, even more so that this list came so quickly to me. I think I'm going to start recording my disgraceful lapses in willpower here. BECAUSE WHAT IS A BLOG IF NOT A REPLACEMENT VESSEL FOR LAPSED CATHOLICS? I promise tomorrow will be funny. I mean, I promise I will try. As long as there aren't any of these foods around to stop me.

    Goonch!

    RIVER MONSTERS!
    Ha-ha, just kidding. We don't need to do that again...but check this out:

    This is our old pal Jeremy Wade with an Giant Indian Goonch Catfish.
    It began like any other typical River Monsters episode.
    Slowly.
    Apparently, something was dragging dirt-poor Hindus under the water. Jeremy was there to play White Knight and catch the beast, ONLY TO LET IT FREE AGAIN.
    That's right folks; after spending six weeks chasing an enormous breed of catfish in the middle of fucking nowhere, a catfish he learned was eating the half-cremated dead of the local village and reaching over 9 feet in length, after hooking one in the middle of a monsoon and jumping into the rapids and swimming downstream with his rod to grapple the leviathan back on land, he put it back.
    "I'm not convinced this fish eats people (even though it definitely eats dead people). I'm not comfortable damning its character to satisfy legend. Let's toss him back, he's starting to wake up."
    You were chomped on by Alligator Gar.
    You were splattered with the newborn young of a 700lb. Stingray.
    You were almost murdered by villagers who thought you were a bad omen.
    Just mount these water gods and be done with it.
    What do you think the primitive cultures remember you for? Solving a scientific mystery or PUTTING THE DEATH BACK YOU PUT THE DEATH BACK.
    Look at what you thought deserved to live:


    Jeremy Wade:
    What the hell is wrong with you.

    Wednesday, February 16, 2011

    That's Not a Knife...

    THIS is a knife.

    Hold On To Your Butts

    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD
    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD
    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD
    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD
    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD
    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD
    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD
    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD
    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD
    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD
    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD
    AH AH AHHH, YOU DIDN'T SAY THE MAGIC WORD

    "I Didn't Fail Them...I'm Not Afraid!"

    Guuuhhhhh...
    You will be...
    You will be...

    All of this studying
    Mind and not bone
    Has made the body weak;
    It craves the otter's tone,
    the lean physique.
    Get your swell on.
    Stir your precious soups.
    And when they're gone,
    My little dynamo,
    I'll be your blood.
    I'll be your blood.

    I got A's on all of my initial exams.
    Last one tomorrow.
    I'm the best.
    But will I finish what I began?

    Tuesday, February 15, 2011

    SHOOOOOOT HEEEEEEEEERRRRR!

    In the Hundred Years War, the British had the advantage of archers. The French did not use archers because they didn't believe in egalitarianism or the value of non-noblemen, which all archers were, on the battlefield.

    Not much has changed.

    The French still don't use archers.

    And the British still use them. I think. This is something of an amateurish version of history and I'm very, very high right now.

    Doesn't the guy in the background on the right in this picture look like an early KKK member? Seems racist to me. So much for English egalitarianism, amiright? Uh? Uh? John Locke can go ahead and suck a dick. A big, fat, veiny, utilitarian dick.

    /confuses two English philosophers
    //excuses self
    ///wastes Ivy League education
    ////brushes teeth and goes to bed


    ...


    ...


    /////plagiarizes from Pheewrap

    ...

    //////unsuccessfully hides shame
    ///////worst use of convention in blog's history

    YOU THERE.

    I was walking down to the subway from work today when I noticed my friends in the NYPD had set up a little table and a sign. Because I walk very quickly and with a backpack, I was ripe for the plucking. Also, being a large Caucasian with blond hair and blue eyes made me a shining example of anti-profiling. LOOK HOW GOLDEN BUTTERY HE IS! NO TURBANHUNT HERE! A portly Italian officer with an awesome brooklyn accent- okay, this cop was basically Joe Pesci. It will be easier if you just imagine Joe Pesci. I know I started to imagine him as Joe Pesci even as he stood in front of me, clearly not forcing Sharon Stone to blow him. he pointed, then jerked his thumb over his shoulder "sir, please step over here to have your bag searched". OH IT WAS ON. I didn't even mind. If this is the price I pay so Mubarak doesn't assume power in America, I pay it gladly. Being led over to the table, the colorful rainbow of people streaming past me, the harpoon'd white whale being dragged finally to Ahab's poop deck, I looked at the other cops waiting at the table. It was at this moment I had the most irrational thought I remember having in a while- "what if there are drugs or guns in your bag?" UHH- WHAT? There's something about being led to a table of cops to be searched that just makes yoru mind go to this place. The place where you are sure you are Kurtwood Smith in Robocop and that you are carrying a duffle full of burnt cash and shotguns rounds. NE NE NE NE NE NE NE NE BOOM MURPHY! The officers took my bag from me. The jig was fucking up, friends. They were on to me. Upon opening my stylish Jansport backpack they discovered me to be...THE WHITE URBAN THREAT.



    .........



    .........




    ........


    .........


    "Uhh...you can go."



    THIS IS A TEST - THIS IS ONLY A TEST - I REPEAT

    Exhausted Bowie is exhausted.
    Four exams down, one to go.
    At least it's not the harde-
    4 FILMS, FIFTY PAGES OF NOTES, HALF OF TEXTBOOK, THREE POUNDS OF BLOOD, NO BREATHING, FINAL DESTINATION.
























    "QUACK, QUACK, QUACK, QUACK, QUACK
    MISTER DUCKSWORTH!"

    Monday, February 14, 2011

    You Thought I Was Kidding?


    I've got a joke for ya:
    What's green, malevolent, and has a miasma
    of horrible noxious delights at hand to torture you with
    until time ends?
    Give up?
    It's me; Gof' ulthun,
    Frog God of the Fetid Fog,
    New Master to your unworthy fate.
    ...get it?

    Grammy Awards 2012

    DON'T LOOK AT ME


    Do you have any idea how I feel when I look in the mirror?

    You don't. You fucking don't. You idle penguin-fucking cocktease. You don't have a goddamn clue what it feels like to be me. MY FACE LOOKS LIKE THE INSIDE OF JACKIE CHAN'S ASSHOLE. What? I don't know what that means either. FUCK YOU. Someone get me a goddamn spice worm ASAP. You! Yeah, you, get over here.

    Holy fuck you look fabulous. Do you know what it's like having to stare at your perfectly sculpted body every day? Every day I look at your tantric, sexy form and then I see my herpetic face in the mirror and I want to throw up. Why do I even keep you here? You with your rippling ab muscles, your toned, taut flesh, your tiny sci-fi briefs...

    I'll be back in a minute.

    Sunday, February 13, 2011

    How Chemical Castration Saved My Marriage


    IT REALLY WASN'T ALL THAT BAD WHEN I LOOK BACK ON IT, YEAH, I KNOW, IT SOUNDS ROUGH BUT ACKCHULLY I GOTTA BE STRAIGHT WITH YA, PAL, AFTER THE THE FIRST FEW TREATMENTS THE SEARING PAIN IN YOUR SCROTUM DOESN'T LESSEN SO MUCH AS YOU GET USED TO IT, ONE THING I CAN SAY FOR SURE THOUGH IS THAT YOU DON'T GET HORNY ANYMORE SO WIFEY LOVED THAT, JUST A LOT OF DARK CHOCOLATE AND MATLOCK RERUNS AND ME SWEATING THROUGH THE NIGHT WITH AN OLD LEATHER BELT BETWEEN MY TEETH TO BITE THROUGH THE SLEEPLESS UNCEASING PAIN, ANYWAY THE GUYS DOWN AT THE CLUB HAVE REALLY NOTICED HOW I DON'T COMPLAIN ABOUT MY WIFE ANYMORE, BECAUSE I AM JUST SCREAMING CONSTANTLY AND YESTERDAY I BROKE A TUMBLER IN MY FIST AND TRIED TO FEED IT TO MY THROAT BUT CARL STOPPED ME AND SAID I SHOULD JUST WATCH THE GAME AND HE WAS RIGHT, I SAID TO THE DOCTOR THIS MORNING "DOC" I SAID THIS MORNING "DOC I REALLY GOTTA HAND IT TO YOU, I THINK THIS WHOLE THING IS ACKCHULLY WORKING" I SAID THIS MORNING TO DOC, AND HE JUST LAUGHED AND SIGNED THE PAD AND TOLD ME TO KEEP GETTIN 'EM FILLED, RIGHT ON YA DOC, ACES I SAID, TONIGHT I THINK I'M FINALLY GOING TO GO THROUGH THAT BOX OF OLD THERMOSTATS FROM THE SEVENTIES IN THE BASEMENT AND SMASH THEM ALL ON THE FLOOR, THEN I'LL JUST ROLL AROUND IN THE PAINTED GLASS AND LOOSE MERCURY THAT SPILLS OUT OF THEM, JUST TO PASS THE TIME TO MAKE THE NIGHT MORE FUN, I THINK I'VE ALREADY SEEN TONIGHT'S EPISODE OF MATLOCK AND IF I HAVEN'T NO BIG DEAL THE BOYS DOWN AT THE CLUB WILL JUST FILL ME IN TOMORROW AFTER WE'RE DONE WITH THE LOTTO TICKETS

    Unhinged -or- The Frog Of War

    I drew this a few days back out of boredom and worry while studying for that miserable, virginal exam:

    It was cute and renewed my spirits.

    A minute ago I finished another little piece. I used it to distract myself from studying for a while, and centered it on a beanbag frog that I keep on my desktop. Goldfleck made it for me when she was little(r). Anyway, view and risk your sanity:



    /crashing waves
    //seashell-crowned beanbag menace
    "I AM THE GOD OF FOG, WHY HAST THOU SUMMONED ME!?"
    "I am bored. I do not wish to study any longer."
    "THE LIVING DARE DISTURB THE SLEEPING DEAD FOR SUCH A TRIFLE!? I BANISH YOU TO AN ETERNITY OF STUDY! GWAH WAH WAH WAH!!!"

    I am currently insane.

    Friday, February 11, 2011

    I Knew It Was Crazy



    I had no idea just how crazy.

    Tested


    This is what awaits me
    on the path to my first exam.
    I am concerned.

    History. American History. I have mastered you, I believe, and am prepared to be examined. I enter the classroom to find a handful of other students seated and studying in their final moments. I follow suit. A gaggle of asshole wanders in shortly after, making laughter and ruckus.
    Fuck the police...keep studying, Whofleck!
    Our professor enters and hands out the work. After a cursory scan of the outline I begin to fill in the appropriate bubbles associated with intelligence. After a few minutes, Dr. Best Lecturer Ever speaks up:
    "It's hot in here, right? Too stuffy. Would someone mind opening a couple windows and letting some fresh a-"



    FIRE ALARM FIRE ALARM FIRE ALARM
    EVERYBODY GO STAND OUTSIDE NOTHING IS BURNING JUST DO IT
    FIRE ALARM FIRE ALARM-

    We march outside, most of us laughing out of surprised and soon-to-be defeated spirits. We stood there and got cold, scribbling like maniacs against the crawling loss of potential review. When we do eventually reenter the building, we have lost about half of our allotted time.
    Our professor explains that ten minutes will be given at the beginning of Monday's class to finish the exam. For now, she says, keep going.
    I keep going. I molest the multiple choice. I eradicate the true/false.
    I rape two of five short-answer essays.
    Time. Is. Up.

    Excuse me, Dr. B.L.E., but would you be opposed to me bringing in my finished three short-answers and just tacking them onto my exam?
    "YES."
    I just don't feel like I could physically write the remaining answers in ten minutes, and we lost more than that outside.
    "YOU CAN DO IT."
    Okay.

    /shakes fist at sky
    FUCKING ISLAM!

    Thursday, February 10, 2011

    BATHOS (Grk, "depth"): Not to be confused with pathos, bathos is a descent in literature in which a poet or writer--striving too hard to be passionate or elevated--falls into trivial or stupid imagery, phrasing, or ideas.

    "Honey! Where Are The Servants!?"

    Since there's no help, come let us twist and fart,
    Nay I have done, you get no more of me;
    And I am mad, yea, mad with all my heart,
    That thus so poorly I myself can flee;
    Shake fists for ever, cancel all our rants,
    And when we meet in any hell again,
    Be it not seen in either of our pants
    That we one Lot of former love retain.
    Now at the last gas of love's morning breath,
    When his pulse flailing, passion shameless lies,
    When faith is screaming by his bed of death,
    And innocence is closing up his [something funnier than eyes],
    -Now if thou would'st, when all have buried him under,
    From love to hate thou might'st him tear asunder!

    Sonnet LxXxI, Michael Gayton

    /personally beloved poem
    //mocked into meaningless gore
    ///open the door
    ////get on the floor
    /////everybody walk the dinosaur


    Wednesday, February 9, 2011

    A Wasteland

    This is the way the world ends:
    Not with a bang but a whimper.
    And a finger in the tush.

    Poetry is fun.

    Tyger, tyger burning bright,
    In the forest of the night,
    Someone get a fire extinguisher.

    I am Ozymandias, king of kings,
    Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair!
    For all we are is dust in the wind.


    What have we learned? Anal makes everything more fun.