Centaur Sleepover

Game 4

2011-05-06T13:18:00.003-04:00

Game 3

2011-05-04T13:47:00.001-04:00

USA

2011-05-02T20:25:00.010-04:00

In Washington, a man assembles his Cabinet for an intense evening of playoff hockey on VERSUS.

To kill some time between periods, they watch with token interest as a SEAL unit halfway across the world provides a decade's worth of closure to a great and angry nation hungry to find its way again in times of trouble:

Meanwhile, someone on a bucolic little street outside of Philadelphia designs another bad t-shirt over a bottle of craft beer and the smell of freshly cut grass:

Welcome to Earf.

Are You Not Entertained?

2011-04-30T21:02:00.008-04:00

Hello, Centaurs. Let us face a few facts - as men, and as horses.

This once-great blog has been reduced to something akin to the Jundland Wastes.

Time, life, obligation, wandering interest - all foils to our noble endeavour.

To paraphrase the late, great, Jack Napier: "You've changed things."

Blazers do this as well.

What is to become of this barren landscape in its postlapsarian days?

Pheewrap knows.

I will tend to it, as a lazy gardener tends to a drying patch of forgotten glories.

Weeds will grow. Sharp edges will soften. The vibrant blooms and verdant greens of the halcyon days will not be quite so lush.

But there will be life.

Oh, yes. There will be life...

Day Forty-Two

2011-04-21T18:28:00.002-04:00

Day Forty-One

2011-04-20T13:41:00.001-04:00

Day Forty

2011-04-19T09:22:00.001-04:00

Day Thirty-Nine

2011-04-18T19:19:00.002-04:00

Day Thirty-Eight

2011-04-17T11:01:00.003-04:00

Ethos

2011-04-16T13:35:00.007-04:00

"Do you suffer from depression? Well, if you don’t, you probably should, because the world is an ugly, violent place - and the only people who can’t see it are idiots and the blind. And believe me, brothers and sisters, blind people can smell how bad it is out there..."

Phoodie Phriday

2011-04-15T08:17:00.010-04:00

Excerpt from CNN.com

For the 46 days of Lent, J. Wilson is forgoing solid food and only drinking beer and water - just as Bavarian monks did hundreds of years ago. Wilson is a husband, father, newspaper editor and beer enthusiast. The 38-year-old is the proprietor of the beer blog brewvana, where the motto is, "An ideal condition of harmony, beer and joy." "That pretty much sums up our lifestyle," Wilson told CNN.

He is practicing a Lenten fast with Christians throughout the centuries who typically give something up from Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday (April 24 this year) to remind them of the sacrifice they believe Jesus made on the cross for them. Typically, Christians give up something such as alcohol or sweets.

Wilson knows his sacrifice is bit extreme. He said his wife, Michelle, has been completely supportive. In his experiments as a home brewer in Iowa, he said Michelle "puts up with a yeast blow up on the ceiling." There are doctor's visits during the fast, and he did copious research before he began. He even bulked up beforehand, knowing he would lose weight. "I wasn't running into this half-cocked," he said. "I didn't wake up on Ash Wednesday and think, 'Wow this would be a great idea.'"

It helps that his boss at the Adams County Free Press is on board, because he keeps a keg at the office. Each morning, Wilson pours himself a 12-ounce Illuminator Doppelbock for breakfast. Then another at lunch, a 3:15 p.m. snack and finally a beer around 7:15 p.m., once he is home and settled in with the family. Each beer has about 288 calories and is about 6.7% alcohol he said.

The hunger stopped during the first week, he said, and he has no designs to break his fast. "No question, I'd have to get hit by a bus to stop." From here on out he said it would be, "just an exercise in discipline."

Suggested pairing: Baked Eggs

2011-04-14T17:23:00.001-04:00

Shall we begin?

Day Twenty-Six

2011-04-05T16:26:00.001-04:00

Day Twenty-Five

2011-04-02T15:00:00.000-04:00

Day Twenty-Four

2011-04-01T16:20:00.001-04:00

Day Twenty-Three

2011-03-31T21:04:00.003-04:00

Day Twenty-Two

2011-03-30T22:27:00.002-04:00

For A Couple True Comrades:

2011-03-30T12:28:00.004-04:00

May we shout for joy
when we hear of your victory
and raise a victory banner
in the name of our God.
May the LORD answer all your prayers.

Day Twenty-One

2011-03-29T22:25:00.001-04:00

Day Twenty

2011-03-28T21:54:00.003-04:00

Day Nineteen

2011-03-27T23:07:00.001-04:00

Day Eighteen

2011-03-26T13:42:00.002-04:00

Day Seventeen

2011-03-25T23:59:00.000-04:00

Day Sixteen

2011-03-24T23:24:00.000-04:00

Day Fifteen

2011-03-23T22:27:00.000-04:00

Day Fourteen

2011-03-22T23:26:00.001-04:00

Day Thirteen

2011-03-21T22:33:00.002-04:00

Day Twelve

2011-03-20T23:34:00.000-04:00

Day Eleven

2011-03-19T21:09:00.001-04:00

Day Ten

2011-03-18T23:26:00.002-04:00

Day Nine

2011-03-17T23:16:00.000-04:00

Day Eight

2011-03-16T22:13:00.000-04:00

Day Seven

2011-03-15T21:22:00.000-04:00

Day Six

2011-03-14T21:08:00.000-04:00

T-Rexes Aren't Known For Their Posture

2011-03-13T23:54:00.005-04:00

This is moot.
He founded 4chan many years ago, and is currently championing a new site.
It is called canv.as and it is fun. It is essentially a real-time MSPaint session for editing images. He spoke about it during a keynote speech at a web-development conference below the Mason-Dixon Line, and I caught the whole thing in a stream. Unfortunately, infamous as he is, the presence of moot leaves something to be desired...he has terrible posture. Like, the worst posture ever. And he kept doing this shit with his hands as if he were rubbing them in malicious plotting or keeping the cold out like a rheumatic old woman. I thought he looked like a dinosaur.
So I captured a revealing screencap of him at his most T-Rex and posted it to canv.as...

The following edits came in a storm:

My post is now the most popular post on canv.as.
What I show you here is simply a taste of the 100+ edits that have since been born.
To put it lightly, friend:
I have reached my peak and been dethroned in a single sweep.
Just sign up for canv.as.
You don't need me anymore.

Day Five

2011-03-13T21:37:00.002-04:00

Day Four

2011-03-12T20:04:00.003-05:00

EBRBRBRBRBRBRBR!

2011-03-11T22:23:00.001-05:00

Akira Kurosawa's Dreams are coming true.
There will be a nuclear meltdown on the island of Japan, and the future lack of vomit porn and animated child rape will be suffered with iron resolve: I'm calling it. This is how Pokémon will be born. I, for one, welcome our new Demonic Asian Overlords.

8.9 MUTHAFUCKA!
Gotta get to the West Coast and get my surf on
before the FUN arrives.

Day Three

2011-03-11T12:45:00.004-05:00

The Things We Do For Love:

2011-03-10T23:27:00.003-05:00

Post creative dark humor for several months [x]
Shit gold on Sundays [x]
Never masturbate on Sundays [x]
Cleverly weave funny links [x]
Continue WINNING [x]
Share long-repressed memories [x]
Get you to care [ ]

Day Two

2011-03-10T19:11:00.004-05:00

Silly Boys!

2011-03-09T23:06:00.005-05:00

Hands off! Heeheehee!
I know what I like and what I DON'T like, okay? I'm strong and I don't need a bunch of icky NERDS ogling ME! I do what I want when I want, are you scared? You wouldn't even know how to handle someone like me...gosh!
Let's see...I love killing Jews, putting glass shards in the eye sockets of my raped and murdered victims, physically consuming famous works of art, tricking my brother into unleashing the Kraken, you know!
CUTE STUFF!

Well, boys, I should really be going to bed. /wink
Don't spend all night looking at pictures of me, that's gross and such a turn off! YUCK.
I should could use a massage, though...
/wink
/kiss

Day One

2011-03-09T20:38:00.008-05:00

No Booze? Psh. No Problem!

So far nothing out of the ordinary. No shakes. No curling up in a sweating heap in the corner of my kitchen, doubled over like Nic Cage in Leaving Las Vegas. This shit is going to be easy, right? I sleep five feet from an unopened bottle of Johnny Walker. No matter, I haven't been glancing at it every 20 minutes or so. When I was mixing tuna salad for dinner I didn't think about how great a big cold domestic light beer would be. No big deal.No big deal. No big d-

What Is This I Don't Even

2011-03-08T22:42:00.003-05:00

I am being sued.
I am behind on my reading.
I am disheveled.
But I feel grape. Fat Tuesday, bro...Doughnut Day.
But we've had this dance before, and stranger ones await.
Pause. Reflect. Do you even realize the magic of that image?
We've got a young girl, a fencer, as clever allusion to a scene in my fantasy book.
We've got a BP sponsor in the background. Wow, don't even need to go there.
And yes, we've got the Olympics. You know which one, with the logo that looks like Picasso's rendering of fellatio?
The sword bending slightly to the right? Think about it. I just made most of the men reading this blog feel funny.
I knew a kid in high school who fenced; real douche.
This is getting absurd, disjointed, and I should stop.
I should stop before this gets anything like Dave Legeno's biography: a must read.

Mazel Dog

2011-03-07T22:30:00.005-05:00

Is there any way to celebrate besides hot dogs? Sure, some people prefer champagne, or cigars, or confetti and bare breasts. But is there anything so wholly satisfying as small cooked tubes of ground beef and pork and lordknowswhat? I submit that there is not. Mazel Dogs can be covered in diced onion, chili, or slaw, then slathered in kethcup and mustard and served with beans and old bay frnech fries. It's the only way to welcome a new era of paying tolls and accruing debt. Mazel dog, man. They grow up so fast.

"Winter Is Coming."

2011-03-06T22:26:00.001-05:00

I mean, I absolutely love it, but...
Kiss my sword, indeed.

The Beam

2011-03-05T23:26:00.000-05:00

Kiela had no words to express the nightmare beyond.
Kethel breathed, swearing, the grip on his hot pistol loosened by shock. But even his reaction fell short of understanding.
They stood in the doorway of Dorn's chamber aboard the dreadnought Saber. There was a sucking vacuum, something orbital, that maintained a fractured perimeter of air and light. At the center of the room, floating and twisting in thin blackness, was Dorn: a mutated infant, the size of a grown man but soft and frail, crowned with a pulsating skull both grotesque and enormous.
His giggles echoed everywhere.
But before Kiela could scream, the shrieking emptiness converged on Dorn. And in that sudden silence, the levitating thing she once called friend dove into her mind and started speaking.
Welcome, welcome! Welcome, old flame! Don't be alarmed. This is just a change. I'm changing, you see, thanks to our red friends below! So much planned...we must be alone to speak. No more of your new friend, just you and me!
She turned in time to see Kethel raise his weapon. Dorn wasn't even in his sights when the General paused, gulping and belching. What could have been a cry of pain or surprise became gelatinous and buttery, like the bones in his face that Dorn was liquefying. General Rae collapsed, hands clawing to maintain the structure of his own head. His hands cupped and cradled and accidentally clawed into his brains, and when he hit the floor the entire mass popped and spread like a balloon full of soft pink cream.
Dorn laughed in Kiela's mind.
She turned back to him, willing herself away from Kethel's twitching stump of a body, mouth agape with sorrow and fear and confusion. She started running toward Dorn.
Stop, dear. Stop this. I've so much planned for us! You've no idea the things I've planned for us! Stop and let me tell you.
Kiela kept running.
Let me show you what I've built here, dear. I know the secrets of the star above! Use these secrets with me...we can remake so many worlds together!
She was close now, fists clenched in full sprint. The tears in her eyes did not keep her from reading his dark patterns. She knew where he was and what he was. Kiela knew what the freak wanted, and she would kill him.
Stop! Ha-ha! Stop now!
And as she leaped, the beam crushed and folded the outer hull of the ship. When she set her curled fingers for Dorn's eyes it pierced the chamber. And before she could dig into his weak, horrible flesh, it struck them both. Dorn was vaporized, every particle of his newly omniscient self razed and sliced by the mental laser. Kiela, however, was enveloped. The warm blue light showered upon her. Memory flooded every sense, every strand of hair, and swallowed her into sweet, immortal comfort. Then the beam plowed onward. On and on, so close to its unintended target. For years of flight, it had traversed the empty space with one unknown goal. Yet when it entered the heart of that local star, Finnis...when it stalled the sun's hot and mysterious clockwork...when the solar gears shifted and reversed, the beam simply faded. It felt peace, for the first time since it illumined the stratosphere of a world left to waste.
Finnis folded. It fell and bled into the surrounding space. When it had leaked most of its strength, there was a flush of crimson light in which the Nim'roh basked and prayed.
From the inner-galaxies, had they dark skies, there was a faint glow.
The news came quickly via Earth Forces Wire that a certain fringe system was lost.
Although being little danger to altering navigation, the various merchant guilds saw no gain in pillaging the exploded area.
And somewhere on Earth, the warm bones of a man and his friend were slowly turning to ash.

In Defense of Dragons

2011-03-05T21:20:00.005-05:00

Look, I can't go over it enough. Dragons are an awesome concept. They are like unicorns, except for there is no folk song about how they were too busy frolicking to be taken aboard Noah's ark. Instead, there is a folk song about one dragon who lives by the sea and befriends a boy, but then become bored and depressed when the boy grows up and loses interest in him. AND THIS IS OUR NICEST STORY ABOUT DRAGONS. I remember the first time that a work of art moved me to tears. I was in 4th grade, and the book was Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher. A book that that I can only paraphrase from 17-year-old memories as Sophie's Choice with dragons. So yeah, as a crying 8 year-old, I can now see why I read books about dragons as I approach 25. I don't expect anyone who did not read Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher at age 8 to understand. Whofleck was right, in some worlds the dragons fuck with us, and sometimes that world is our own and we are children in it. So yeah, I like dragons. Even Spyro. Why? Because they touched me as a child.

I Don't Even Know How To Title This

2011-03-04T19:36:00.003-05:00

I was recently given a book by a friend.
It is a book, so I am told, in which thrones cut men and wolves are dire and the numerous maps given are not just geographic but spiritual in nature. I am, needless to say, very aroused.
This will be my first adventure into high fantasy in quite some time.
Since my pimpled days of questing through literary landscapes of Northern jungles with mysterious histories and invented myths, most of my fantasy escapades have taken place in video games. I enjoy video games and their lore. I refuse your pity, and submit my sexual activity since puberty as evidence that I am doing okay regardless of my questionably basement-dwelling hobbies. These stories, accentuated by gameplay similar to that of ye olde tabletops, are engrossing...I am engorged by them. They feed me in equal doses of subtlety and extravagnce.
I make devils fall and gods ascend. How cool is that?
The game with the most spectacle in regard to story and universe must be Morrowind. It does not simply break the fourth-wall, you see; it hovers above it in cross-legged divinity. The cosmic and time-altering implications of this one pixelated romp alone are embarrassingly good. I have just linked an excellent study of the game's metaphysics, as well as a necessary short sermon by a divine character in Morrowind who, allow me to paraphrase, fucks the god of rape and then rapes that god and then fucks everyone and everything including time to death until he rapes the essence of rape so hard that he banishes rape from existence.
You stumble upon these short lessons and tomes while playing, completely out of context. They are like gentle slaps to the face by some inter-dimensional fantasy-fist, blessed and cursed, inviting and ruinous. The universe of this game is so frayed yet tangible, so broken yet magnetic, that the characters who inhabit it reference historic instances of time simply shifting and breaking down entirely. They believe that the stars above them are holes where the gods burst through when they accidentally made everything...and they are absolutely correct.
During rants like this, Jaybro is fond of telling me to "stop with the fucking dragons."
The irony, friends, is that...in some worlds...the dragons are fucking with you.

Boy I hope this book is good.

Ohboyohboyohboyohboy

2011-03-04T16:49:00.004-05:00

It's Drinkmas Eve, when all the little children gather around the hearth in the hopes that St. Drunk will soon arrive. Oh to drown in the boozy yule fuel! This weekend shall be a mirror to shine upon my ugliest parts, like that time Father Maloney caught me through the emergency exit window on tha back of the school bus. THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT FATHER! STOP SAYING AC-A-ME IN YOUR HOMILIES! I used to think beer was terrible. "Eww daddy beer is gross!" The key to getting your child to not drink is to give them terrible small sips of lukewarm domestic light beer. "I'll never like beer" the child thought, not knowing he was 10 ounces away from experiencing the siren's call of splatterfaced.

Answer the call, children. He can tell who has been naughty and who has made ice.

Jesus Christ! Doc, You Disintegrated Whofleck!

2011-03-03T23:22:00.004-05:00

Calm down, reader, I didn't disintegrate anything.
The molecular structure of both Whofleck and the blog are perfectly intact.
Where the hell are they, you ask?
The appropriate question is when the hell are they? You see, Whofleck has just become the world's first time-traveler. I sent him...into the past! Three days into the past to be exact.
And at precisely 11:59pm and 59 seconds, he shall catch up with us and the time-blog.

Seriously, now. I wish not for this to be a cool denial of yet another of my failings.
My founder and sponsor was kind enough to speak quietly on my behalf, but there is a new Whofleck in town. He is an educated man. He is a busy man. But he is not without regret, nor mistakes or short-comings.
This is no place for excuses, so consider this repentance:
I have sinned. I have put the blog behind myself, and in doing so raped any meaning my original oath may have held. I beg, and submit, that I shall live for your forgiveness. Fear not; I am no battering husband. I refuse second chances, just give me your open minds.
Things are going to get weird.

Dear Blog,

2011-03-03T10:21:00.002-05:00

I write on you so often, but I write to you so very, very little. I was almost afriad to say this to you, but I knew if I didn't type it here, you would never know how I felt about you. You see, Blog, I've taken you very seriously, and sometimes no more seriously than the nights when, in a panic, I post a music video or a dick joke just to know that I have posted on you. "Why so serious?" some might ask. But I've neglected you these past few days, I've deserted my watch. To think of what terrible wraiths may have stormed your walls while I was off foraging for supplies or bedding the cold mistress that is graduate school makes me shudder. And to think that my negligence spread like a cancer to Whofleck and caused him to lay down his torch (torchdown) and wander off into the desert of UnBlog sickens me. I have no words for him but "It's all my fault". I've abandoned my child, I've abandoned my boy. So Blog, dear Blog, I'd like to come back, if you'll have me. I know there's no way you can ever really let me know. But I hope my return will inspire Whofleck to finish out his term as well. So we can link hands and amble out of this cold wet winter as we began it on December 2nd. You see Blog, I don't plan on stopping this time. The leaden load of looming lent aims to crush me, and you might be the only place I can come to re-create the fever dreams bourbon. So Blog, I have returned from UnBlog, and I need you to take me back. Things are about to get weird around here, I have so much repenting to do.

I give you.....BRUNDLESHEEN!

2011-03-02T20:26:00.003-05:00

Everythingwentbetterthanexpected.jpg

2011-02-28T22:33:00.000-05:00

I Am Mr. Big

2011-02-28T21:00:00.004-05:00

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

School District of Ridiculousness

2011-02-28T17:59:00.005-05:00

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?

I've Killed Myself So Many Times

2011-02-27T15:28:00.004-05:00

I don't even exist anymore.

AND YET I CANNOT FORGET IT.
ANY OF IT.

edit:

BECAUSE THEY JUST KEPT COMING.

Forget Science Fiction:

2011-02-26T23:11:00.001-05:00

I'M BUSY.

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

I SAID I'M BUSY GET OUT OF HERE!

Worst. McDonalds. Ever

2011-02-25T23:13:00.003-05:00

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!

2011-02-25T20:03:00.002-05:00

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!

I'm Salty as Hell

2011-02-25T16:28:00.002-05:00

Happy Purim?

2011-02-24T23:56:00.001-05:00

"Take Courage! It Is I."

2011-02-24T23:31:00.002-05:00

And the night whispered, "I'm coming for you."

2011-02-24T23:02:00.002-05:00

Narcotics Purchase: San Diego Edition

2011-02-23T23:58:00.007-05:00

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

2011-02-23T21:13:00.003-05:00

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!

2011-02-23T19:52:00.006-05:00

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!
...

"Hey, Kimmo! KIMMO!"

2011-02-22T23:32:00.005-05:00

"Great job in overtime, Kimmo!"

Eat dirt, Chris.

This Is Just A Punk Rock Song

2011-02-22T23:00:00.005-05:00

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

2011-02-22T20:37:00.006-05:00

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

Wasted Days, Dreamless Nights

2011-02-21T23:59:00.000-05:00

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!

2011-02-21T20:05:00.004-05:00

Jacob's Ladder

2011-02-21T10:36:00.006-05:00

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.

Look Whofleck!

2011-02-20T23:59:00.000-05:00

Just Another

2011-02-20T19:03:00.003-05:00

Lonely Pacific Northwest Dogswim.

I should have painted a frame.

m4t

2011-02-20T00:42:00.001-05:00

Definition two.

Becoming

2011-02-19T22:55:00.005-05:00

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.

I Have A Flask...

2011-02-18T23:19:00.007-05:00

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

2011-02-18T22:44:00.005-05:00

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

Infinite Foods

2011-02-17T23:40:00.002-05:00

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!

2011-02-17T22:00:00.005-05:00

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.

That's Not a Knife...

2011-02-16T23:56:00.000-05:00

THIS is a knife.

Hold On To Your Butts

2011-02-16T23:18:00.001-05:00

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

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

2011-02-16T23:02:00.004-05:00

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?

SHOOOOOOT HEEEEEEEEERRRRR!

2011-02-15T23:58:00.001-05:00

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.

2011-02-15T22:26:00.010-05:00

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

2011-02-15T16:05:00.007-05:00

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!"

You Thought I Was Kidding?

2011-02-14T23:44:00.003-05:00

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

2011-02-14T22:43:00.002-05:00

DON'T LOOK AT ME

2011-02-14T05:48:00.002-05:00

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.

How Chemical Castration Saved My Marriage

2011-02-13T22:19:00.004-05:00

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

2011-02-13T12:40:00.012-05:00

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.

Live and in Three Dee

2011-02-12T22:26:00.006-05:00

A Song:

2011-02-12T20:20:00.003-05:00

NEKRON!

I Knew It Was Crazy

2011-02-11T22:55:00.001-05:00

I had no idea just how crazy.

Tested

2011-02-11T14:23:00.003-05:00

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!

2011-02-10T23:01:00.002-05:00

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!?"

2011-02-10T10:10:00.010-05:00

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

A Wasteland

2011-02-09T23:59:00.000-05:00

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.

Best Interview Evar

2011-02-09T21:54:00.002-05:00

"So do you have any questions for me?"

/asks question

"There is no answer to that question the way that you have posed it to me."

Other than all the terrible and awkward parts, it went just fine.