So.
Where to begin?
I Alfred told me a lot. I'll do my best to outline the key points of what she told me.
1. There is no God. There is no Allah. There is no whoever. Evolution is bullshit. None of it is true.
2. Robots made everything. Well almost everything. I will get to that in the second. But robots made me. Robots made you. The whole universe began existing in the year 1823. All history that you may have read about prior to 1823 was made up by the robots. It helped explain a lot, and people never really questioned it. Even those who began existance at the age of 32 in 1823, they had no recollection of what they did in 1822. They had no memory at all of anything prior to 1823, they relied on the journals (written by the robots) that were placed underneath their pillows.
3. The robots created the universe, but gave humans the capability to make things. Humans made robots, much to the amusement of the robots. So robots made humans and humans made robots. Human-made robots did not last very long in the world of robot-made robots. Human-made robots were ridiculed and often tortured then killed for amusement.
4. I Alfred was made by humans. She was accepted because Alfred I fell in love with her and forced her into becoming his wife. She was looking for an opportunity to turn kill her husband. My arrival gave her such an opportunity.
5. 1987 was acting as King of Robot land. He killed the actual King, so he has been acting as King since 1987.
6. The only thing robots did not invent was the internet. Humans invented the internet. The internet is run by the migrant worker children who i saw in my dreams. They have the potential to spread viruses to the robot-made robots (as well as human-made robots) and wipe out the robot race completely. It is not certain if this is what the migrant children workers intend, but 1987 is not taking any chances and he is considering wiping out the entire human race.
7. However, before he wipes out the entire human race, he needs to figure out how to destroy the internet. The internet can survive without the humans, just like humans can survive without robots. So in a sense at this point, it is survival of the fittest. He thinks a human will be able to destroy the internet.
8. 1987 chose me out of complete randomness. It just so happened that the Robot kingdom was behind my refrigerator. He wants me to destroy the internet.
9. That first night, when i heard "Come here baby", it was in fact I Alfred, trying to warn me about the intentions of 1987.
10. Now that they were both on the run, they could not get caught by 1987.
11. 1987 was definitely coming after the both of them.
We arrived at the bottom of the staircase and we were standing at what looked like a junk yard. Pieces of metal thrown about the place. That is when I stepped on a beating heart. "This is where 1987 has his fun" I Alfred said.
I've never wanted a cigarette so bad in my life.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Global warming.
Meh-teh translates as "man-bear"
Dzu-teh - 'dzu' translates as "cattle" and the full meaning translates as "cattle bear" and is the Himalayan Red Bear
Migoi or Mi-go (Tibetan: མི་རྒོད་; Wylie: mi rgod) (pronounced mey-goo) translates as "Wild Man"
Mirka - another name for "wild-man", however as local legend has it "anyone who sees one dies or is killed". The latter is taken from a written statement by Frank Smythe's sherpas in 1937
Kang Admi - "Snow Man"
Jo-bran - "Man-beast"
All of the above was copy and pasted from wikipedia.org. Trust it if you want.
More:
In Spanish, fire ants are known as hormiga colorada (red ant) or hormiga brava (surly ant). In Portuguese, they are called formiga de fogo (fire ant) and formiga lava-pé (wash foot ant).
Also wikipedia. Read it, recite it. Just don't trust it.
I was in the jungle. I stepped on a wash foot ant. The wash foot ant bit me. I yelled. The cattle bear came out of the woods. He had an axe and a machete in one hand. In the other hand was a bee hive and the head of a yeti.
If only I hadn't stepped on the wash foot ant.
I had an idea. Then I had another idea. Then another. But I had to wait for my cue. "Action" shouted the director. I ran at the cattle bear with a log that was lying near the wash foot anthill. I ran up to the cattle bear and smacked the yeti head out of his hands, picked it up, and punted it like a football.
"CUUUUUUUTTTTTT, what was that?"
I didn't know what to say. That's when Holly Gunter from Jackson chimed in. "Setting a date on troop withdrawl is not only a poor decision but may even further endanger our troops".
George W. Bush had plenty to add: "A year ago my approval rating was in the 30s, my nominee for the Supreme Court had just withdrawn, and my vice-president had shot someone.
"Ah, those were the good ol' days,"
The director just shook his head. No, no no no no. This will not will not work. We can't have this scene being made into a mockery.
Diego Maradona's physician agreed, saying Maradona's "ill health was brought on by excessive smoking, drinking and eating."
Zenaib Abubakar, a Mogadishu resident added, "This is the worst fighting Mogadishu has seen since the Islamists were ousted"
The director wrapped up the shoot. "We'll try again tomorrow."
I looked at the wash foot ants and gave them a wave. "It was nice working with you" they sang.
It was nice working with them. It was very nice indeed.
I went back to my hotel room, ordered a cheeseburger from room service, put on the telly, and switched between Stewart and O'Reilly. Fed up, I grabbed a razor and shaved myself a mohawk. It doesn't really matter.
Dzu-teh - 'dzu' translates as "cattle" and the full meaning translates as "cattle bear" and is the Himalayan Red Bear
Migoi or Mi-go (Tibetan: མི་རྒོད་; Wylie: mi rgod) (pronounced mey-goo) translates as "Wild Man"
Mirka - another name for "wild-man", however as local legend has it "anyone who sees one dies or is killed". The latter is taken from a written statement by Frank Smythe's sherpas in 1937
Kang Admi - "Snow Man"
Jo-bran - "Man-beast"
All of the above was copy and pasted from wikipedia.org. Trust it if you want.
More:
In Spanish, fire ants are known as hormiga colorada (red ant) or hormiga brava (surly ant). In Portuguese, they are called formiga de fogo (fire ant) and formiga lava-pé (wash foot ant).
Also wikipedia. Read it, recite it. Just don't trust it.
I was in the jungle. I stepped on a wash foot ant. The wash foot ant bit me. I yelled. The cattle bear came out of the woods. He had an axe and a machete in one hand. In the other hand was a bee hive and the head of a yeti.
If only I hadn't stepped on the wash foot ant.
I had an idea. Then I had another idea. Then another. But I had to wait for my cue. "Action" shouted the director. I ran at the cattle bear with a log that was lying near the wash foot anthill. I ran up to the cattle bear and smacked the yeti head out of his hands, picked it up, and punted it like a football.
"CUUUUUUUTTTTTT, what was that?"
I didn't know what to say. That's when Holly Gunter from Jackson chimed in. "Setting a date on troop withdrawl is not only a poor decision but may even further endanger our troops".
George W. Bush had plenty to add: "A year ago my approval rating was in the 30s, my nominee for the Supreme Court had just withdrawn, and my vice-president had shot someone.
"Ah, those were the good ol' days,"
The director just shook his head. No, no no no no. This will not will not work. We can't have this scene being made into a mockery.
Diego Maradona's physician agreed, saying Maradona's "ill health was brought on by excessive smoking, drinking and eating."
Zenaib Abubakar, a Mogadishu resident added, "This is the worst fighting Mogadishu has seen since the Islamists were ousted"
The director wrapped up the shoot. "We'll try again tomorrow."
I looked at the wash foot ants and gave them a wave. "It was nice working with you" they sang.
It was nice working with them. It was very nice indeed.
I went back to my hotel room, ordered a cheeseburger from room service, put on the telly, and switched between Stewart and O'Reilly. Fed up, I grabbed a razor and shaved myself a mohawk. It doesn't really matter.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Part 7 of 57
I was running with I Alfred. We were doing our best to get out of the operating room before 1987 returned. We zigzagged in and out of rooms, and came to a deadend. We were in a room with a giant persian rug underneath a grand dining room table. I Alfred rolled up a part of the rug, and revealed a dark staircase. More stairs. Forever going down. I figured I had no choice but to follow I Alfred down the stairs. She led me down the stairs, and she began to explain a little about the robots' intentions with me, who 1987 was, and who the child migrant workers were. It is gonna take a while to explain.
Ideas from today.
The world's tallest man saved the dolphins, but that did not make him happy. He needed something more than being considered a hero to make him happy. He needed a wife. To get a wife, the world's tallest man placed some ads in the paper. The Newspaper. Weeks went by, and the world's tallest man was flooded with replies to the "wife" ad. The world's tallest man shuffled through the post, and would get very discouraged and slam his world's tallest hand down on the table. "These women all want me because of my height and my fame. They don't really love me".
This went on for weeks. More mail. More heartache.
Meanwhile.
In Ukraine, a really tall man was having a panic attack. He screamed and slammed his really tall furniture around his mother's house. "I am the world's tallest man, NOT that impostor from China! This is an outrage. And not only, am I taller, I am actually a certified veterinarian. I could have saved the dolphins a lot easier. I wouldn't have just shoved my giant arms down their little throats to remove pieces of plastic. What a ludicrous stunt. I will get back at the world's 'tallest' man, if it's the last thing I do."
The really tall man from the Ukraine then hitched a ride to Bulgaria. On arriving in Bulgaria, he met a former Olympic wrestler. This wrestler had connections to a witch doctor, straight from XieiXieiXieiland. The witch doctor met the tall Ukranian and she transformed him into an average heighted Chinese woman.
The really tall Ukranian in his new average heighted female costume appeared at the doorstep of the world's tallest man's house. He knocked on the door, and the world's tallest man answered. The world tallest man looked at the average heighted woman and fell in love instantly. You will be my wife. They married immediately. Two of the world's tallest males are now married. It will be interesting to see what transpires.
Will the really tall Ukranian have his revenge?
Has the witch doctor from that place cast an unbreakable spell on the Ukranian?
Or will they live happily ever after?
Only time will tell.
This went on for weeks. More mail. More heartache.
Meanwhile.
In Ukraine, a really tall man was having a panic attack. He screamed and slammed his really tall furniture around his mother's house. "I am the world's tallest man, NOT that impostor from China! This is an outrage. And not only, am I taller, I am actually a certified veterinarian. I could have saved the dolphins a lot easier. I wouldn't have just shoved my giant arms down their little throats to remove pieces of plastic. What a ludicrous stunt. I will get back at the world's 'tallest' man, if it's the last thing I do."
The really tall man from the Ukraine then hitched a ride to Bulgaria. On arriving in Bulgaria, he met a former Olympic wrestler. This wrestler had connections to a witch doctor, straight from XieiXieiXieiland. The witch doctor met the tall Ukranian and she transformed him into an average heighted Chinese woman.
The really tall Ukranian in his new average heighted female costume appeared at the doorstep of the world's tallest man's house. He knocked on the door, and the world's tallest man answered. The world tallest man looked at the average heighted woman and fell in love instantly. You will be my wife. They married immediately. Two of the world's tallest males are now married. It will be interesting to see what transpires.
Will the really tall Ukranian have his revenge?
Has the witch doctor from that place cast an unbreakable spell on the Ukranian?
Or will they live happily ever after?
Only time will tell.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
A ding
Not a lot going on.
Nothing going on.
That's not true.
3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3
Going to the store
1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1
Going to the store
2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2
Going to the store
3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3
Going to the store
x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x
If I could fly an airplane I would
3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2
Not sure.
About this.
Ha
Don't think I
Understand
Don't think I
Enderstand
Slow down.
Slow down.
Slow down.
Slow down.
Slow down.
Slow down.
Slow town.
Slow town.
Slow down, slow town.
Goodnight moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Nothing going on.
That's not true.
3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3
Going to the store
1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1,2,3,2,1
Going to the store
2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2
Going to the store
3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3,2,3
Going to the store
x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x,x
If I could fly an airplane I would
3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2
Not sure.
About this.
Ha
Don't think I
Understand
Don't think I
Enderstand
Slow down.
Slow down.
Slow down.
Slow down.
Slow down.
Slow down.
Slow town.
Slow town.
Slow down, slow town.
Goodnight moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Good night moon.
Business Cards.
I walked to the moon.
It took a while. But it was worth it. Now I'm going to walk back to Earth.
U.S. is playing war games outside Iran today. Wish I could play. I wasn't invited. Although there probably was an open invitation to anyone who wanted to attend. I forgot to respond to the E-Vite. Or I responded to the E-Vite and added (+57). Don't you hate when jokers do that? Whatever happened to E-Vites? They were fun while they lasted. I never read half of them, but I used to like to just respond so people would think it's funny. Like, "I'll be there" and then I wouldn't show up because I would forget to go. Or forget to put it in my palm pilot. I don't really own a palm pilot. I have a cellphone.
Anyway, U.S. said the war games weren't in response to the Iran capturing of British sailors. Instead they said the war games were happening just because the weather is nice out. And there's really not much to do. Except show off their Hummers. In high school, kids used to go to the Exxon in Warwick, and show off their souped up Civics. That was kinda like a high school war game. I used to go in my Duster and run everyone over. Then I'd set the gas station on fire. I usually won the war games. All it takes is a Plymouth Duster with a 380-6 pack.
I've had it with Iran and Iraq and the USA. When I say "I've had it" it really doesn't mean much of anything. The news is nothing more than a splinter in my eyelid. Just pull it out, and move on. Like, CNN sent me the update on Anna Nicole Smith. And, it was confusing. Case closed. Not suicide. Like, is anyone listening. If it wasn't suicide, was it murder? Most suicides aren't really suicide. Unless the autopsy report says that it is. Like KC. He didn't kill himself. The bullet did. Not suicide. Case closed.
Anyway, who cares. There may be a WW3. There may not be. I might go if it gets real bad. I'll respond to the Army E-Vite. Just so I can hitch hike to the bottom of the Caspian Sea. To see if I can find Nemo. And a pot of gold.
The world is a dumb place. It's not that dumb really, it is what you make it. And if you don't have anything nice to say. Don't say anything at all.
My dad carries a Monopoly "Get out of jail free card" in his wallet from 1972. It's the business.
It took a while. But it was worth it. Now I'm going to walk back to Earth.
U.S. is playing war games outside Iran today. Wish I could play. I wasn't invited. Although there probably was an open invitation to anyone who wanted to attend. I forgot to respond to the E-Vite. Or I responded to the E-Vite and added (+57). Don't you hate when jokers do that? Whatever happened to E-Vites? They were fun while they lasted. I never read half of them, but I used to like to just respond so people would think it's funny. Like, "I'll be there" and then I wouldn't show up because I would forget to go. Or forget to put it in my palm pilot. I don't really own a palm pilot. I have a cellphone.
Anyway, U.S. said the war games weren't in response to the Iran capturing of British sailors. Instead they said the war games were happening just because the weather is nice out. And there's really not much to do. Except show off their Hummers. In high school, kids used to go to the Exxon in Warwick, and show off their souped up Civics. That was kinda like a high school war game. I used to go in my Duster and run everyone over. Then I'd set the gas station on fire. I usually won the war games. All it takes is a Plymouth Duster with a 380-6 pack.
I've had it with Iran and Iraq and the USA. When I say "I've had it" it really doesn't mean much of anything. The news is nothing more than a splinter in my eyelid. Just pull it out, and move on. Like, CNN sent me the update on Anna Nicole Smith. And, it was confusing. Case closed. Not suicide. Like, is anyone listening. If it wasn't suicide, was it murder? Most suicides aren't really suicide. Unless the autopsy report says that it is. Like KC. He didn't kill himself. The bullet did. Not suicide. Case closed.
Anyway, who cares. There may be a WW3. There may not be. I might go if it gets real bad. I'll respond to the Army E-Vite. Just so I can hitch hike to the bottom of the Caspian Sea. To see if I can find Nemo. And a pot of gold.
The world is a dumb place. It's not that dumb really, it is what you make it. And if you don't have anything nice to say. Don't say anything at all.
My dad carries a Monopoly "Get out of jail free card" in his wallet from 1972. It's the business.
Friday, March 23, 2007
part 6 of 57
I wasn't sure what to make of 1987's statement.
How did he know what hppaappened in my dream?
More importantly...
What the hhellll is going on?
Whhyy am II here?
Whhyy amm I hanngging out with a robot?
Whhy amm I tied from a bed?
Whhy amm I tied TO a bed?
A lot of questions. I can't answer them at this time. Who knows if I ever will be able to answer them. This I can tell you:
I was tied to a bed.
1987 was freaking out about child migrant workers that appeared in my dream.
There were two other robots in the room.
One robot looked exactly like 1987. His name was Alfred.
The other robot was a lot taller than 1987. She was wearing lipstick and had long purple hair. Her name was also Alfred.
To make it a little easier to follow, short robot Alfred will be here on referred to as Alfred I.
To make it a little easier to follow, tall robot Alfred with the lipstick and the purple hair will be here on referred to as I Alfred.
Alfred I spoke first. "Hi John, I'm Alfred, and this is my wife, Alfred. We are going to run some tests on you, is that OK with you, do you understand what i'm telling you?"
I Alfred spoke next. "Hi John Bonser, I'm Alfred, and I am the wife of Alfred. We are going to run some tests on you, is that OK with you, do you understand what i'm telling you?"
I had no idea why they repeated each other, but I nodded anyway. "I understand, but what kind of tests are you going to be conducting on me? I really need to know what is going on."
That is when I Alfred took off her robot shirt.
That is when Alfred I took off his robot shirt.
They then embraced each other.
What happened next is kind of a mystery to me.
The lights went out.
Flashes of lightning.
It got really cold.
Lightning stopped.
I felt a gush of wind.
I blacked out.
Eventually I unblacked out.
Lights came on. Everything appeared normal. I had a slight headache. Only I Alfred was in the room. She had a plate of strawberries. She fed me one. "How do you feel?" she asked.
"Funny. What happened?"
"We did some tests."
"Where is 1987?"
"He'll be back in a few minutes."
"Where is your husband, Alfred?"
I Alfred looked at the strawberries and gave a robot wink. "Don't worry about that scumbag."
I didn't worry about that scumbag. But I did stop eating the strawberries. And I did start worrying about my headache, which was getting worse. And I all of a sudden really had to take a piss.
Then I Alfred looked at me, and started to undo the belts that were fastening me to the bed.
"You better get out of here before 1987 comes back."
Don't call it a comeback. I've been here for years
"Wait, I have to get out of here?"
"Yes. You don't want to be here when 1987 gets back. He's going to be pretty mad when he finds out that you killed Alfred."
How did he know what hppaappened in my dream?
More importantly...
What the hhellll is going on?
Whhyy am II here?
Whhyy amm I hanngging out with a robot?
Whhy amm I tied from a bed?
Whhy amm I tied TO a bed?
A lot of questions. I can't answer them at this time. Who knows if I ever will be able to answer them. This I can tell you:
I was tied to a bed.
1987 was freaking out about child migrant workers that appeared in my dream.
There were two other robots in the room.
One robot looked exactly like 1987. His name was Alfred.
The other robot was a lot taller than 1987. She was wearing lipstick and had long purple hair. Her name was also Alfred.
To make it a little easier to follow, short robot Alfred will be here on referred to as Alfred I.
To make it a little easier to follow, tall robot Alfred with the lipstick and the purple hair will be here on referred to as I Alfred.
Alfred I spoke first. "Hi John, I'm Alfred, and this is my wife, Alfred. We are going to run some tests on you, is that OK with you, do you understand what i'm telling you?"
I Alfred spoke next. "Hi John Bonser, I'm Alfred, and I am the wife of Alfred. We are going to run some tests on you, is that OK with you, do you understand what i'm telling you?"
I had no idea why they repeated each other, but I nodded anyway. "I understand, but what kind of tests are you going to be conducting on me? I really need to know what is going on."
That is when I Alfred took off her robot shirt.
That is when Alfred I took off his robot shirt.
They then embraced each other.
What happened next is kind of a mystery to me.
The lights went out.
Flashes of lightning.
It got really cold.
Lightning stopped.
I felt a gush of wind.
I blacked out.
Eventually I unblacked out.
Lights came on. Everything appeared normal. I had a slight headache. Only I Alfred was in the room. She had a plate of strawberries. She fed me one. "How do you feel?" she asked.
"Funny. What happened?"
"We did some tests."
"Where is 1987?"
"He'll be back in a few minutes."
"Where is your husband, Alfred?"
I Alfred looked at the strawberries and gave a robot wink. "Don't worry about that scumbag."
I didn't worry about that scumbag. But I did stop eating the strawberries. And I did start worrying about my headache, which was getting worse. And I all of a sudden really had to take a piss.
Then I Alfred looked at me, and started to undo the belts that were fastening me to the bed.
"You better get out of here before 1987 comes back."
Don't call it a comeback. I've been here for years
"Wait, I have to get out of here?"
"Yes. You don't want to be here when 1987 gets back. He's going to be pretty mad when he finds out that you killed Alfred."
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Part 5 of 57
It'll make sense later
Ghost protractors
I got em. I got em, you want em?
Paradise.
Cinema Paradiso
Ramble on
John Bonser was sitting at a bar. He ordered a cocktail and he had nothing on his feet. The bar tender brought over a cocktail and a pair of sneakers. John Bonser thanked the bar tender and gave him a couple extra euros.
"Thanks" the bar tender said.
"No...thank you." John Bonser said as he slammed his face into the bar, breaking his nose in the process. Blood splattered everywhere. It was a strange scene. The bar tender did not care. He grabbed a rag and started cleaning up te blood. He did a half-ass job as you might imagine. After he threw the bloody rag at the cook in the back, he came back with a bottle of Bud and a shot of Vat 69.
"Shit, Bobby, I got no more euros" John Bonser told the bar tender.
"That's ok, it's on me." Bobby said. Bobby leaned over and kissed John Bonser on his forehead. As he pulled away, he whispered into John Bonser's ear. John Bonser threw his bottle of Bud at the mirror above the bar. Glass smashed, and other patrons started to shuffle out of the bar. John Bonser threw back the shot, and got off his bar stool. He took his credit card, went to the juke box and ordered 20 songs with his Visa. Actually, he ordered two songs, and played them each ten times. The first song was "Wild Horses" by the Rolling Stones. Halfway through the first playing of the song, John Bonser took his foot and shoved it up the juke box's ass. The song stopped playing. John Bonser went back to his bar stool and Bobby brought over a beer and a shot. Bobby leaned over again and kissed John Bonser on the lips, and they made out for a little bit.
They were interrupted by a voice at the end of the bar. The voice said, "YOU TWO CUT THAT SHIT OUT". The voice belonged to Mary Scoobadoodab-dadoodab. Historians estimate that Mary was 125 years old. She claimed to be 81. No one can be completely sure which is closer to the truth. Does her age really matter? Not at all. Mary had but a few minutes left on this cold, cold earth.
Mary Scoobadoodab-dadoodab approached Bobby and John Bonser, armed with nothing more than her rickety walker and homophobia. John Bonser was furious about the interruption of the sweet embrace, and more importantly possibly getting his free booze cut off, hopped off his bar stool and was about to punch ol' Mary Scoobadoodab-dadoodap in her throat WHEEEEEEEN the children made their way into the bar. The children walked into the bar in a single file line. They were all carrying laptops, and all the laptops were connected to each other by blue and red cables.
"We are migrant, we are migrant workers" the children sang as they surrounded Mary Whateverthefuckisaid. Mary panicked and tried to break out of the migrant worker/laptop circle of despair, when the ceiling of the bar opened up. A gigantic TI-83 Scientific Calculator fell from the heavens and landed directly on Mary. Mary's head severed from her body and the tallest of the migrant worker children collected the head and placed it in a Louis Vuitton bag. He then lead the other child migrant workers out of the bar. They walked in a single file line and they chanted early 90s gangster rap.
John Bonser, shrugging at the spectacle, reached for a crusty ashtray, and poured its contents down the front of his pants. John Bonser then headed towards the bar's elevator...
That's when I woke up. I was tied to a bed. 1987 was there.
"How was your sleep, John?" 1987 asked
"It waaaaaas sssstraaange" I replied
"Were there any children with laptops in the dream?"
"Yeahh. Howw'd yoo knnow?" I stammered
"Shit, John. We got some fucking problems." 1987 shouted.
Ghost protractors
I got em. I got em, you want em?
Paradise.
Cinema Paradiso
Ramble on
John Bonser was sitting at a bar. He ordered a cocktail and he had nothing on his feet. The bar tender brought over a cocktail and a pair of sneakers. John Bonser thanked the bar tender and gave him a couple extra euros.
"Thanks" the bar tender said.
"No...thank you." John Bonser said as he slammed his face into the bar, breaking his nose in the process. Blood splattered everywhere. It was a strange scene. The bar tender did not care. He grabbed a rag and started cleaning up te blood. He did a half-ass job as you might imagine. After he threw the bloody rag at the cook in the back, he came back with a bottle of Bud and a shot of Vat 69.
"Shit, Bobby, I got no more euros" John Bonser told the bar tender.
"That's ok, it's on me." Bobby said. Bobby leaned over and kissed John Bonser on his forehead. As he pulled away, he whispered into John Bonser's ear. John Bonser threw his bottle of Bud at the mirror above the bar. Glass smashed, and other patrons started to shuffle out of the bar. John Bonser threw back the shot, and got off his bar stool. He took his credit card, went to the juke box and ordered 20 songs with his Visa. Actually, he ordered two songs, and played them each ten times. The first song was "Wild Horses" by the Rolling Stones. Halfway through the first playing of the song, John Bonser took his foot and shoved it up the juke box's ass. The song stopped playing. John Bonser went back to his bar stool and Bobby brought over a beer and a shot. Bobby leaned over again and kissed John Bonser on the lips, and they made out for a little bit.
They were interrupted by a voice at the end of the bar. The voice said, "YOU TWO CUT THAT SHIT OUT". The voice belonged to Mary Scoobadoodab-dadoodab. Historians estimate that Mary was 125 years old. She claimed to be 81. No one can be completely sure which is closer to the truth. Does her age really matter? Not at all. Mary had but a few minutes left on this cold, cold earth.
Mary Scoobadoodab-dadoodab approached Bobby and John Bonser, armed with nothing more than her rickety walker and homophobia. John Bonser was furious about the interruption of the sweet embrace, and more importantly possibly getting his free booze cut off, hopped off his bar stool and was about to punch ol' Mary Scoobadoodab-dadoodap in her throat WHEEEEEEEN the children made their way into the bar. The children walked into the bar in a single file line. They were all carrying laptops, and all the laptops were connected to each other by blue and red cables.
"We are migrant, we are migrant workers" the children sang as they surrounded Mary Whateverthefuckisaid. Mary panicked and tried to break out of the migrant worker/laptop circle of despair, when the ceiling of the bar opened up. A gigantic TI-83 Scientific Calculator fell from the heavens and landed directly on Mary. Mary's head severed from her body and the tallest of the migrant worker children collected the head and placed it in a Louis Vuitton bag. He then lead the other child migrant workers out of the bar. They walked in a single file line and they chanted early 90s gangster rap.
John Bonser, shrugging at the spectacle, reached for a crusty ashtray, and poured its contents down the front of his pants. John Bonser then headed towards the bar's elevator...
That's when I woke up. I was tied to a bed. 1987 was there.
"How was your sleep, John?" 1987 asked
"It waaaaaas sssstraaange" I replied
"Were there any children with laptops in the dream?"
"Yeahh. Howw'd yoo knnow?" I stammered
"Shit, John. We got some fucking problems." 1987 shouted.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Refrigerators and the robots that built them (part 4a and part 4b of 57)
I originally thought nothing happened on the staircase. I wrote about it in part 4a. However, after thinking about the series of events with 1987, I realized that a lot had happened on the staircase. Perhaps I just tried to block it all out. I wrote about what really happened in part 4b.
part 4a
I followed 1987 down the staircase. There were approximately 35 stairs in the staircase. When we got to the bottom of the staircase there was a door with a window. From this window came a red blinking light. As 1987 reached for the door knob, I began to feel sick to my stomach.
part 4b
I followed 1987 down the staircase. I looked over 1987, but could not see the bottom of the staircase. All I could see was a faint blinking red light. I asked 1987 how many stairs there were in the staircase. 1987 told me that there were 1,860 stairs from top to bottom. We stopped after descending exactly 22 steps. 1987 did not explain why we stopped, instead he seemed to power down a little bit. Confused by the pause, I stared at the wall. I noticed that there was some scribbling on the wall. When I looked closer at the scribbling, I noticed that it was in fact a quote. The scribble said:
"I am made all things to all men."
That quote sounded familiar at the time but I did not know why. Later I realized it was a quote from the bible. I did not really know much about the bible. I still don't really know much about it, but I did research that quote to figure out it's meaning.
After looking at the quote, I stepped back from the wall, and turned to see if there was anything on the other wall. Sure enough there was more scribble. I looked closer to read the scribble better. It said:
"Communication Breakdown, It's always the same, I'm having a nervous breakdown, Drive me insane!"
I'm not sure if it's important to tell you this, but I will anyway. The quote from the bible was on my right, when I was looking down the staircase. So that means the second quote was on the wall to the left when looking towards the bottom of the staircase. I did not know it at the time, but the second quote was from a Led Zeppelin song. Nothing wrong with getting the Led out from time to time, and I guess it's no different if you are a robot.
When I stepped back from the second quote, 1987 came back to life. He looked at me and asked if I was ready. I told him I was and we proceeded our way down the rest of the staircase.
Not really much to say about the rest of the time on the staircase. We had a little small talk about the 1985 Super Bowl winning Chicago Bears, evidently 1987 was in attendance. When we got to the bottom of the staircase there was a door with a window. From this window came a blinking red light. As 1987 reached for the doorknob I began to feel sick to my stomach.
OH SHIT, I forgot to tell you about the Japanese hornets. When we were about 20 stairs away from the bottom, I heard the buzz. 1987 looked at me and told me to start running. We made a mad dash to the bottom of the staircase, but I was bit by some sort of bug. Later I learned it was a Japanese hornet. When we got to the bottom of the staircase there was a door with a window. From this window came a blinking red light. As 1987 reached for the doorknob I began to feel sick to my stomach.
part 4a
I followed 1987 down the staircase. There were approximately 35 stairs in the staircase. When we got to the bottom of the staircase there was a door with a window. From this window came a red blinking light. As 1987 reached for the door knob, I began to feel sick to my stomach.
part 4b
I followed 1987 down the staircase. I looked over 1987, but could not see the bottom of the staircase. All I could see was a faint blinking red light. I asked 1987 how many stairs there were in the staircase. 1987 told me that there were 1,860 stairs from top to bottom. We stopped after descending exactly 22 steps. 1987 did not explain why we stopped, instead he seemed to power down a little bit. Confused by the pause, I stared at the wall. I noticed that there was some scribbling on the wall. When I looked closer at the scribbling, I noticed that it was in fact a quote. The scribble said:
"I am made all things to all men."
That quote sounded familiar at the time but I did not know why. Later I realized it was a quote from the bible. I did not really know much about the bible. I still don't really know much about it, but I did research that quote to figure out it's meaning.
After looking at the quote, I stepped back from the wall, and turned to see if there was anything on the other wall. Sure enough there was more scribble. I looked closer to read the scribble better. It said:
"Communication Breakdown, It's always the same, I'm having a nervous breakdown, Drive me insane!"
I'm not sure if it's important to tell you this, but I will anyway. The quote from the bible was on my right, when I was looking down the staircase. So that means the second quote was on the wall to the left when looking towards the bottom of the staircase. I did not know it at the time, but the second quote was from a Led Zeppelin song. Nothing wrong with getting the Led out from time to time, and I guess it's no different if you are a robot.
When I stepped back from the second quote, 1987 came back to life. He looked at me and asked if I was ready. I told him I was and we proceeded our way down the rest of the staircase.
Not really much to say about the rest of the time on the staircase. We had a little small talk about the 1985 Super Bowl winning Chicago Bears, evidently 1987 was in attendance. When we got to the bottom of the staircase there was a door with a window. From this window came a blinking red light. As 1987 reached for the doorknob I began to feel sick to my stomach.
OH SHIT, I forgot to tell you about the Japanese hornets. When we were about 20 stairs away from the bottom, I heard the buzz. 1987 looked at me and told me to start running. We made a mad dash to the bottom of the staircase, but I was bit by some sort of bug. Later I learned it was a Japanese hornet. When we got to the bottom of the staircase there was a door with a window. From this window came a blinking red light. As 1987 reached for the doorknob I began to feel sick to my stomach.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Oh no chewing gum and here's a story
Oh no.
Chewing Gum
Oh noooooooooooo
Chewing Gum (sing it backwards if you're satanic)
Toy guns raised in preschools
Put your hands where I can see them
Throwing yourself on the atomic bomb
blows my mind away
My German is terrible,, and I can't apologize for Germany
I'm seeing I'm changing directions already
Toy guns raised in preschools
brought in from home
and passed through security unnoticed
Duck, Duck, Goose'll be a lot more interesting
Here's a story:
Cub scouts.
Uniforms.
Patches.
Patches need to go on uniform.
Patches are badges?
Maybe.
Anyway, uniform needs badges.
Me: ?
Mom: ?
Me: ??
Mom: ??
Me: ???
Mom: ??!
Stapler.
First and only year of cub scouts.
Chewing Gum
Oh noooooooooooo
Chewing Gum (sing it backwards if you're satanic)
Toy guns raised in preschools
Put your hands where I can see them
Throwing yourself on the atomic bomb
blows my mind away
My German is terrible,, and I can't apologize for Germany
I'm seeing I'm changing directions already
Toy guns raised in preschools
brought in from home
and passed through security unnoticed
Duck, Duck, Goose'll be a lot more interesting
Here's a story:
Cub scouts.
Uniforms.
Patches.
Patches need to go on uniform.
Patches are badges?
Maybe.
Anyway, uniform needs badges.
Me: ?
Mom: ?
Me: ??
Mom: ??
Me: ???
Mom: ??!
Stapler.
First and only year of cub scouts.
Refrigerators and the robots that built them (Part 3 of 57)
I followed 1987 through the brand new door that appeared behind the refrigerator. Once crossing into the land of the robots I felt myself start to shiver. Robot land was a lot colder than I anticipated. I always expected Robot land to be about the same temperature as the world I lived in. *
*You are probably wondering why I had anticipated a Robot land. It's a legitimate question, to which I have a simple answer; I always prepare for the most ludicrous situation because I am employed in the disaster management industry.
I was hunched over, anxiously rubbing my arms to try and generate some heat, when I realized more about my surroundings. I was behind the refrig...no that doesn't make sense, I wasn't in the refrigerator, and the back of the refrigerator is usually pretty hot.
"1987, why is it so cold in here?"
"We're robots. It suits us better." he answered. After he realized I was struggling with the temperature of my new environment, he pressed his robot nipple and the top of his head opened up. He reached his robot hand into the new opening and pulled out a life-size polar bear and a life-size koala bear. Not only were they life-size, they also appeared to be alive (use of italics woulda been nice somewhere in this sentence). 1987 then reached down and pulled off his robot leg. With his foot in his hand he extended his leg in the direction of the polar bear. Before fully realizing what was happening, I heard the bang, and the polar bear's face exploded and the body fell to the ground. Then 1987 aimed his leg at the cute and cuddly koala bear and blew its head off.
I stood and watched in terror for the next 20 minutes as 1987 skinned both of the carcasses. After the twenty minutes, 1987 approached me and extended his hand to give me a brand new polar bear coat and a koala bear hat. He then said "Maybe now you can stop your complaining?"
I was still stunned but was able to force out a question. "Couldn't you have just pulled a premade coat and hat out of your tiny robot head?"
"Yes, John Bonser, I could have done just that." 1987 replied, and gave me a robot wink.
This is when I realized I was in some deep shit. This had nothing to do with robots' rights to own property. I turned to see if there was anywhere I could run, but there was total blackness behind me. I had no choice but to put on my coat and my hat, and after I began to warm up, I was able to gather myself. I followed 1987 as we began to descend a stair case, at the bottom there appeared to be a faint blinking light.
*You are probably wondering why I had anticipated a Robot land. It's a legitimate question, to which I have a simple answer; I always prepare for the most ludicrous situation because I am employed in the disaster management industry.
I was hunched over, anxiously rubbing my arms to try and generate some heat, when I realized more about my surroundings. I was behind the refrig...no that doesn't make sense, I wasn't in the refrigerator, and the back of the refrigerator is usually pretty hot.
"1987, why is it so cold in here?"
"We're robots. It suits us better." he answered. After he realized I was struggling with the temperature of my new environment, he pressed his robot nipple and the top of his head opened up. He reached his robot hand into the new opening and pulled out a life-size polar bear and a life-size koala bear. Not only were they life-size, they also appeared to be alive (use of italics woulda been nice somewhere in this sentence). 1987 then reached down and pulled off his robot leg. With his foot in his hand he extended his leg in the direction of the polar bear. Before fully realizing what was happening, I heard the bang, and the polar bear's face exploded and the body fell to the ground. Then 1987 aimed his leg at the cute and cuddly koala bear and blew its head off.
I stood and watched in terror for the next 20 minutes as 1987 skinned both of the carcasses. After the twenty minutes, 1987 approached me and extended his hand to give me a brand new polar bear coat and a koala bear hat. He then said "Maybe now you can stop your complaining?"
I was still stunned but was able to force out a question. "Couldn't you have just pulled a premade coat and hat out of your tiny robot head?"
"Yes, John Bonser, I could have done just that." 1987 replied, and gave me a robot wink.
This is when I realized I was in some deep shit. This had nothing to do with robots' rights to own property. I turned to see if there was anywhere I could run, but there was total blackness behind me. I had no choice but to put on my coat and my hat, and after I began to warm up, I was able to gather myself. I followed 1987 as we began to descend a stair case, at the bottom there appeared to be a faint blinking light.
Waiting for the train
I made friends with weirdos last night. Late night trains are good for supplying weirdos. We were all freaking out, because the R3 train was running 15 minutes late. One crazy wacko asked to use my phone. I told her she couldn't use it, because I remembered that story about people covering payphones with acid tabs. I didn't want to seem mean though, so I told her I got no service. Even though she asked me right after I got off the phone. She questioned that, "weren't you just on the phone?". "Ummm. What?" I said. Answering a question with a question is a good way to get out of most situations. Or just pretend you don't speak English. That's what I do when people try selling me women's socks on the Broad Street Line. "Socks, Socks, Socks, 3 for a dollar." They shove the crusty socks in my face. I shrug my soldiers and say "Du sollst ihm deine Handynummer geben" and then I point to the passed out bum 3 seats in front of me. Then I shrug and start to drool a little.
Oh anyway, NCAA basketball time. I picked a final four of freaking Oregon, Pitt, G-Town, and and and Memphis. Highly unlikely but I hate #1's. I have G-Town over Pitt in the Big East Final, and when G-Town wins, you'll realize the last team to beat them was Syracuse.
And then I'll get out my BMX and do table endos.
Oh anyway, NCAA basketball time. I picked a final four of freaking Oregon, Pitt, G-Town, and and and Memphis. Highly unlikely but I hate #1's. I have G-Town over Pitt in the Big East Final, and when G-Town wins, you'll realize the last team to beat them was Syracuse.
And then I'll get out my BMX and do table endos.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Software, hardly understood
My cat bit me on the knuckle of my thumb. It hurt real bad, but I didn't jump when it happened. Instead I just sat there and marvelled at the little thing's determination. When it had enough of my thumb, it jumped down off the couch and went into the kitchen for a drink of water. I sat and stared at my thumb, the blood beginning to form a pool at the indentations from the teeth. I'm going to need a band-aid. I did nothing, however, and turned the television on to the Cartoon Network.
An hour or so went by when I heard a banging on the front door. I looked at my watch. 2:30 A.M. Strange! I stood up and found myself standing knee deep in blood. Shit. Should have put on a band-aid! I waded to the front door, opened it, and came face to face with Marty from across the hall.
"Marty, it's late, what do you want?"
"THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE! IT'S FLOWING INTO MY APARTMENT, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ABOUT IT?"
"What the fuck do you want me to do about it?" I asked as I slammed the door in his face, splattering blood everywhere. I turned and headed toward the couch.
"That Marty's a bitch, isn't he?" Said a voice.
"Who the helllll..." I turned. The voice had come from my cat, who was rowing a boat through the now waste high blood.
"Nice boat, cat."
"Yeah I know, look sorry about the blood and the biting you and all, but we should get out of here before the cops come."
"Ok."
I hopped into m cat's row boat and we sailed through the apartment and fell down t he waterfall that had formed outside the bathroom window. Once outside, we rowed to the bloody pond's edge and we climbed up the bank to a grassy clearing.
"Do you have any idea where you are?"
"No, cat, I haven't a clue what's going on."
"It's cool, you'll like it here."
"If you say so."
And after saying htat, the cat whistled as loud as she could and out of the woods came a pacifist Labrador Retriever named Ladybug.
An hour or so went by when I heard a banging on the front door. I looked at my watch. 2:30 A.M. Strange! I stood up and found myself standing knee deep in blood. Shit. Should have put on a band-aid! I waded to the front door, opened it, and came face to face with Marty from across the hall.
"Marty, it's late, what do you want?"
"THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE! IT'S FLOWING INTO MY APARTMENT, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ABOUT IT?"
"What the fuck do you want me to do about it?" I asked as I slammed the door in his face, splattering blood everywhere. I turned and headed toward the couch.
"That Marty's a bitch, isn't he?" Said a voice.
"Who the helllll..." I turned. The voice had come from my cat, who was rowing a boat through the now waste high blood.
"Nice boat, cat."
"Yeah I know, look sorry about the blood and the biting you and all, but we should get out of here before the cops come."
"Ok."
I hopped into m cat's row boat and we sailed through the apartment and fell down t he waterfall that had formed outside the bathroom window. Once outside, we rowed to the bloody pond's edge and we climbed up the bank to a grassy clearing.
"Do you have any idea where you are?"
"No, cat, I haven't a clue what's going on."
"It's cool, you'll like it here."
"If you say so."
And after saying htat, the cat whistled as loud as she could and out of the woods came a pacifist Labrador Retriever named Ladybug.
Refrigerators and the robots that built them.
I found myself sitting at the table in the kitchen, smoking a clove cigarette. Normally I don't smoke cigarettes, especially not clove cigarettes, but this was an unusual circumstance. The reason I was smoking a cigarette, was because it was offered to me by 1987. 1987 was the robot sitting directly across from me.
I met 1987 when I ran into the kitchen after I heard the refrigerator door being slammed shut. When I turned the corner and entered the kitchen, I saw what looked to be a toddler standing on a chair. This toddler had taken out the peanut butter and the jelly and was making a sandwich. The problem was the toddler's skin was made of metal and there was a stench of burning plastic. The metallic toddler turned around and introduced himself as "1987" and said he was a robot. After five minutes of freaking out, I was able to come to my senses and take his offer of the clove cigarette. He lit it up, and we started to become acquainted with one another.
"1987 is a pretty crappy name." I had the nerve to say.
"You're a pretty crappy writer." 1987 shot back. "Anyway, stop cutting me off." 1987 then went on to explain how he had come from behind the refrigerator. He and his robot friends were living behind the refrigerator for the past 55 years. 1987 didn't remember all 55 of those years because he was only born 32 years ago. Evidently, before 1987 and his gang moved into my house, they used to live in the basement of the town courthouse. They moved because they didn't like the way the courthouse smelled.
"Behind the refrigerator? How the fuck..." Just as I was saying that, 1987 swallowed his clove cigarette, and effortlessy pulled the refrigerator away from the wall. He placed his robot palm flat against a section of the wall, gave a little hum, and next thing you know a panel is being removed from what I thought was a seamless wall. Light poured out from the miniature doorway and 1987 waved me over to him. I placed the clove cigarette into an ashtray and walked over to 1987.
"What's going on?" I nervously asked.
1987 took my hand and started shaking it. "Congratulations, John Bonser. You are going to go where no other human has gone before. You are going to meet my robot friends. Don't be worried, we're not going to hurt you. We just feel that it is time that we started getting some equal rights. Mr. Bonser. We are going to need your help in helping us buy our own property.
That's when I followed 1987 into the robot land behind the refrigerator.
I met 1987 when I ran into the kitchen after I heard the refrigerator door being slammed shut. When I turned the corner and entered the kitchen, I saw what looked to be a toddler standing on a chair. This toddler had taken out the peanut butter and the jelly and was making a sandwich. The problem was the toddler's skin was made of metal and there was a stench of burning plastic. The metallic toddler turned around and introduced himself as "1987" and said he was a robot. After five minutes of freaking out, I was able to come to my senses and take his offer of the clove cigarette. He lit it up, and we started to become acquainted with one another.
"1987 is a pretty crappy name." I had the nerve to say.
"You're a pretty crappy writer." 1987 shot back. "Anyway, stop cutting me off." 1987 then went on to explain how he had come from behind the refrigerator. He and his robot friends were living behind the refrigerator for the past 55 years. 1987 didn't remember all 55 of those years because he was only born 32 years ago. Evidently, before 1987 and his gang moved into my house, they used to live in the basement of the town courthouse. They moved because they didn't like the way the courthouse smelled.
"Behind the refrigerator? How the fuck..." Just as I was saying that, 1987 swallowed his clove cigarette, and effortlessy pulled the refrigerator away from the wall. He placed his robot palm flat against a section of the wall, gave a little hum, and next thing you know a panel is being removed from what I thought was a seamless wall. Light poured out from the miniature doorway and 1987 waved me over to him. I placed the clove cigarette into an ashtray and walked over to 1987.
"What's going on?" I nervously asked.
1987 took my hand and started shaking it. "Congratulations, John Bonser. You are going to go where no other human has gone before. You are going to meet my robot friends. Don't be worried, we're not going to hurt you. We just feel that it is time that we started getting some equal rights. Mr. Bonser. We are going to need your help in helping us buy our own property.
That's when I followed 1987 into the robot land behind the refrigerator.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
The Great Big Soda in the Sky.
Sat for a while today. Just sat there. I had a lot to do, but it didn't get done. I have no one to blame, but myself, really. But, I, didn't, feel, like blaming, myself,. I, wanted, to, point, my, finger, at, someone, or, something,.
It was my turn. I took the stone and threw it at the numbers. It landed on six. It always lands on six when I throw it. I hopped through the course, hitting all the numbers except number six. It was hard to not jump on six, I had to do my best to try and remember to go directly from five to seven. Eventually the sun exploded and I had to go home for dinner.
"How was school?" Dad asked.
"Just sat there." I replied.
"Again? Why?" He asked.
I pointed at my Dad.
"Don't pull that shit again tonight" Dad scolded.
"Did you play after school?" Mom asked changing the subject.
"Yeah, I played some hopscotch." I replied.
"Oh that's nice, did you play with some of the other girls?" Mom asked.
"Nope, no one wanted to play with me."
I used to have a bunch of friends at school. We used to sit at the same lunch table and trade My Little Ponies. But then Jenny lost my favorite My Little Pony, Sparkles. To pay her back, I scooped some cat crap out of our litter box, brought it to school, and placed it in her lunch box in the morning when she wasn't around. You should have heard the bitch scream when she opened her lunch box at lunch time that day. Not as many people laughed as I had planned so I panicked and threw my juice box at Mrs. Clancy. That got me in some serious trouble, but eventually I was able to go back to school. However, all the other girls found out that I was responsible for the cat crap and t hey turned on me, leaving me friendless. Well not completely friendless, the kid who shat his pants during gym class wanted to be my friend but I spit my gum into his hair and threw his school bag in the creek out behind the school.
So now I play Hopscotch by myself and always throw my stone at the number 6. And if I accidentally place my foot in the "6" square, it's not really going to make any difference. It's kinda like drinking whiskey by yourself in an alley. You are still gonna get drunk, so let's stop being so damn worried.
It was my turn. I took the stone and threw it at the numbers. It landed on six. It always lands on six when I throw it. I hopped through the course, hitting all the numbers except number six. It was hard to not jump on six, I had to do my best to try and remember to go directly from five to seven. Eventually the sun exploded and I had to go home for dinner.
"How was school?" Dad asked.
"Just sat there." I replied.
"Again? Why?" He asked.
I pointed at my Dad.
"Don't pull that shit again tonight" Dad scolded.
"Did you play after school?" Mom asked changing the subject.
"Yeah, I played some hopscotch." I replied.
"Oh that's nice, did you play with some of the other girls?" Mom asked.
"Nope, no one wanted to play with me."
I used to have a bunch of friends at school. We used to sit at the same lunch table and trade My Little Ponies. But then Jenny lost my favorite My Little Pony, Sparkles. To pay her back, I scooped some cat crap out of our litter box, brought it to school, and placed it in her lunch box in the morning when she wasn't around. You should have heard the bitch scream when she opened her lunch box at lunch time that day. Not as many people laughed as I had planned so I panicked and threw my juice box at Mrs. Clancy. That got me in some serious trouble, but eventually I was able to go back to school. However, all the other girls found out that I was responsible for the cat crap and t hey turned on me, leaving me friendless. Well not completely friendless, the kid who shat his pants during gym class wanted to be my friend but I spit my gum into his hair and threw his school bag in the creek out behind the school.
So now I play Hopscotch by myself and always throw my stone at the number 6. And if I accidentally place my foot in the "6" square, it's not really going to make any difference. It's kinda like drinking whiskey by yourself in an alley. You are still gonna get drunk, so let's stop being so damn worried.
Nothing going on today.
One of the news' stories I didn't read was about somebody going to rehab.
Or.
One of the new's stories I didn't read was about somebody going to rehab.
Or.
I don't have a lot on my mind today.
I don't think I'll end up in rehab one day, but I guess I should never say never. I emailed the lady and told her I dressed myself like one of those homie toys from those vending machines at supermarkets. I also told her it was not a bad idea to start drinking malt liquor at 7:30 in the morning. So I went to the store and bought some Olde English. Then I went to a movie theater and paid full price to watch the previews. Nothing really looked that great except for maybe My Cousin Vinnie. That one looks pretty funny. Seriously, My Cousin Vinnie is a good movie. If Ralph Maccio is in a movie, 9 times out of 10 it'll be good. If he was in Home Alone, I bet I would have said 10 times out of 10.
Ten times out of ten.
I don't feel much like blogging today.
Woot vs. Boing, Bird and Girl Comic:
Scene 1: Girl says boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing. Girl is holding a fork. Bird is saying woot woot woot woot woot woot woot wooot.
Scene 2: Girl is saying boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing. Bird is saying woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot. Both the boings and woots are angrier.
Scene 3: Bird has fork in his eye and he is screaming. Girl is mischeviously smiling and saying boing boing boing boing boing.
Or.
One of the new's stories I didn't read was about somebody going to rehab.
Or.
I don't have a lot on my mind today.
I don't think I'll end up in rehab one day, but I guess I should never say never. I emailed the lady and told her I dressed myself like one of those homie toys from those vending machines at supermarkets. I also told her it was not a bad idea to start drinking malt liquor at 7:30 in the morning. So I went to the store and bought some Olde English. Then I went to a movie theater and paid full price to watch the previews. Nothing really looked that great except for maybe My Cousin Vinnie. That one looks pretty funny. Seriously, My Cousin Vinnie is a good movie. If Ralph Maccio is in a movie, 9 times out of 10 it'll be good. If he was in Home Alone, I bet I would have said 10 times out of 10.
Ten times out of ten.
I don't feel much like blogging today.
Woot vs. Boing, Bird and Girl Comic:
Scene 1: Girl says boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing. Girl is holding a fork. Bird is saying woot woot woot woot woot woot woot wooot.
Scene 2: Girl is saying boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing boing. Bird is saying woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot woot. Both the boings and woots are angrier.
Scene 3: Bird has fork in his eye and he is screaming. Girl is mischeviously smiling and saying boing boing boing boing boing.
Monday, March 12, 2007
20 Ideas for Girl and bird.
Girl and bird ideas
Idea #1. Scene 1. Girl and bird standing next to each other, girl has a lollipop.
Scene 2. You see bird start to fly away
Scene 3. Girl is licking lollipop and has a thought bubble of "Nice." She is covered in birdshit.
Idea #2. Scene 1. Girl and bird standing next to each other near train tracks, girl has a yo-yo. Bird says "Can I try that?"
Scene 2. Bird has yo-yo and is doing a trick and says "Watch this." to girl.
Scene 3. Bird has hog-tied girl to the train tracks with the yo-yo and girl says "Oooooh you are a master of the yo-yo." as a train starts to come in the distance "Choo Chooooooooooooooo".
Idea #3. Scene 1. Bird says "i wrote a blog about you last night. It was about you waiting for a train..." Girl says "I didn't see it."
Scene 2. Bird continues "...and instead of getting on the train when it came, you went and bought Parliament cigarettes" Girl says "I'd really like to see it"
Scene 3. Bird says "Oh, i didn't post it. it's way too personal" Girl says "oh ok I gotta go, gotta go, gotta go."
Idea #4. Scene 1. Girl says "I got you some canoli off the internet for Valentine's Day." Bird says "That sounds nice."
Scene 2. Girl says "It cost $60 for the canolis, but there are only 10 of them." Bird says, "Oh that's not important".
Scene 3. Girl says "Actually I didn't order you anything at all." Bird says "I figured you wouldn't."
Idea #5. Scene 1. Girl is pissed off "fuck fuck fuck!!! i went to get a coffee but didn't have my atm card. i am so mad"
Scene 2. Bird says to girl: "Oh so you didn't get any coffee? you coulda probably begged for enough change outside. U coulda said you were from new orleans or something"
Scene 3. Girl says to bird: "yeah i guess but i don't look dirty today. i took a big shower before i left the house"
Idea #6. Scene 1. Bird and girl are outside of a rock venue. Bird asks "Was that the first time you've crowd surfed?" Girl says "No, that wasn't my first time, but i can act like it was if you want me to be baby"
Scene 2. "I'm really glad you crowd surfed tonight." Bird said. Girl responds "It needed to be done."
Scene 3. Bird asks "You wanna go get fish tacos?" Girl replies "Your face is a fish taco".
Idea #1. Scene 1. Girl and bird standing next to each other, girl has a lollipop.
Scene 2. You see bird start to fly away
Scene 3. Girl is licking lollipop and has a thought bubble of "Nice." She is covered in birdshit.
Idea #2. Scene 1. Girl and bird standing next to each other near train tracks, girl has a yo-yo. Bird says "Can I try that?"
Scene 2. Bird has yo-yo and is doing a trick and says "Watch this." to girl.
Scene 3. Bird has hog-tied girl to the train tracks with the yo-yo and girl says "Oooooh you are a master of the yo-yo." as a train starts to come in the distance "Choo Chooooooooooooooo".
Idea #3. Scene 1. Bird says "i wrote a blog about you last night. It was about you waiting for a train..." Girl says "I didn't see it."
Scene 2. Bird continues "...and instead of getting on the train when it came, you went and bought Parliament cigarettes" Girl says "I'd really like to see it"
Scene 3. Bird says "Oh, i didn't post it. it's way too personal" Girl says "oh ok I gotta go, gotta go, gotta go."
Idea #4. Scene 1. Girl says "I got you some canoli off the internet for Valentine's Day." Bird says "That sounds nice."
Scene 2. Girl says "It cost $60 for the canolis, but there are only 10 of them." Bird says, "Oh that's not important".
Scene 3. Girl says "Actually I didn't order you anything at all." Bird says "I figured you wouldn't."
Idea #5. Scene 1. Girl is pissed off "fuck fuck fuck!!! i went to get a coffee but didn't have my atm card. i am so mad"
Scene 2. Bird says to girl: "Oh so you didn't get any coffee? you coulda probably begged for enough change outside. U coulda said you were from new orleans or something"
Scene 3. Girl says to bird: "yeah i guess but i don't look dirty today. i took a big shower before i left the house"
Idea #6. Scene 1. Bird and girl are outside of a rock venue. Bird asks "Was that the first time you've crowd surfed?" Girl says "No, that wasn't my first time, but i can act like it was if you want me to be baby"
Scene 2. "I'm really glad you crowd surfed tonight." Bird said. Girl responds "It needed to be done."
Scene 3. Bird asks "You wanna go get fish tacos?" Girl replies "Your face is a fish taco".
Friday, March 9, 2007
Refrigerators and the robots who built them.
I heard the whisper when I was washing the dishes. It was about 10:30 at night or so and I wasn't really paying much attention to the dishes. I was doing a pretty lousy job of scrubbing all the crusty mustard off of the plates because my mind was off wandering around somewhere thinking about something. The soapy water was rising higher in the sink and bubbles were overflowing, dripping down onto my bare feet. At one point I dropped the sponge, and when I bent over to pick it up, I heard a whisper coming from behind the refrigerator:
"Pssssssssssst. Come 'ere, baby."
Or at least I thought I heard a whisper then. Maybe I was just spacing out a little bit too hard, so I decided to resume with the washing of the dishes. After I washed our cereal bowls from the morning, I turned off the water and placed everything in the drying rack. Dishes were done. I took a paper towel and wiped down the counter the best I could. I was on my way out of the kitchen when I heard some rustling coming from behind the refrigerator. I decided to check it out, so I knelt down by the back of the refrigerator. I looked behind the refrigerator to see if anything looked out of place. Nothing was strange. It all looked normal to me. Just to make sure though, I went into the supply closet and grabbed a mouse trap. I spread some peanut butter onto the trap, set it, and slid it behind the fridge. Since we owned cats I thought it was kind of strange that we'd all of a sudden have a mice problem, but after hearing noise the second time, I'm pretty sure something was hiding back there. I turned off the kitchen light and went to see if Amanda was still up.
In the bedroom I noticed that Amanda had fallen asleep. To her side was the women's magazine she was reading and it was open to an article called "How to tell if your man is being faithful". Are you serious, Amanda? I threw the magazine on the floor and turned off the light. I wasn't tired yet, so I decided to go into the living room and watch the evening news. In the middle of some story about a teenager who was arrested after being found with two pounds of marijuana in his high school locker, I heard the refrigerator open and slam shut. After that, I heard what sounded like a jar rolling across the kitchen floor. I jumped to my feet and ran towards the kitchen.
"Pssssssssssst. Come 'ere, baby."
Or at least I thought I heard a whisper then. Maybe I was just spacing out a little bit too hard, so I decided to resume with the washing of the dishes. After I washed our cereal bowls from the morning, I turned off the water and placed everything in the drying rack. Dishes were done. I took a paper towel and wiped down the counter the best I could. I was on my way out of the kitchen when I heard some rustling coming from behind the refrigerator. I decided to check it out, so I knelt down by the back of the refrigerator. I looked behind the refrigerator to see if anything looked out of place. Nothing was strange. It all looked normal to me. Just to make sure though, I went into the supply closet and grabbed a mouse trap. I spread some peanut butter onto the trap, set it, and slid it behind the fridge. Since we owned cats I thought it was kind of strange that we'd all of a sudden have a mice problem, but after hearing noise the second time, I'm pretty sure something was hiding back there. I turned off the kitchen light and went to see if Amanda was still up.
In the bedroom I noticed that Amanda had fallen asleep. To her side was the women's magazine she was reading and it was open to an article called "How to tell if your man is being faithful". Are you serious, Amanda? I threw the magazine on the floor and turned off the light. I wasn't tired yet, so I decided to go into the living room and watch the evening news. In the middle of some story about a teenager who was arrested after being found with two pounds of marijuana in his high school locker, I heard the refrigerator open and slam shut. After that, I heard what sounded like a jar rolling across the kitchen floor. I jumped to my feet and ran towards the kitchen.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Phone books.
Pete Peterson summed it up pretty well in a blog comment to the last blog I wrote, saying something like, "oh you must be pretty bored, cuz when I'm bored that's when I start imagining physical injury." It is true. I am pretty bored. Or maybe I have just become boring. Or maybe nothing.
Maybe a lot of stuff. My finger was bleeding earlier. I don't remember catching it on anything, but I was typing and I noticed that blood was running down the keys and onto my desk. Not a lot of blood so I didn't really consider going to the ER, but enough blood to have to get up and wash the cut and get a band-aid. I got up and went into my boss's office and grabbed a band-aid and some neosporin. I globbed the neosporin all over my middle finger and put on the band-aid. The band-aid didn't stick to well because I put on way too much neosporin, but in today's world you can never be too careful. Like, what if my cut was caused by peanut butter and anthrax. Or maybe I cut it on a rusty paperclip. Too many things to worry about.
When I got to work today there was a phone book on my chair in my work station. I didn't know why we got a phone book because we have the internet, and I told my coworker that. I said "We have the internet, we don't need a phone book." So now I am sitting on the phonebook. It's sort of weird, but I have to make my statements someway or another. Sitting on the phone book got me thinking. You know how when kids are little and they are at a restaurant and they don't have child booster seats, the staff'll grab a couple of phone books and the munchkins will sit on them? Well, in the near future when phone books become obsolete, what is going to happen to kids who can't reach the table cuz they are so small? Like you go to Chili's or something and you bring your little kid along and you ask for a booth and a booster seat, but the hostess is like oh all the booster seats are currently being used, and then you go "Oh, that's fine, just grab a few phone books, Johnny doesn't care" and then the Hostess freaks some more and goes "Oh, they dont make phone books anymore." That's when we'll realize how awful the internet really is. You can't sit on the internet. And that means the kids won't be able to reach their food. Kids'll starve thanks to the internet. The internet is worse than peanut butter I think, honestly.
Maybe that's a stretch of an idea. But I think magazines are going to disappear in the next few hours. I know Time had a huge layoff because they can't compete with the internet. Which is a shame, because I really enjoy magazines. I don't even know why I subscribe to them because I read maybe one article per issue, but I still feel it's worth it, even though I probably read about 40-50 internet articles a week. I think I got to make a spreadsheet about all this stuff.
Finally, I do give Rome the recommendation. The first 3 or 4 episodes I wasn't feeling it because I didn't know what anyone was talking about it, but by episode 5 or 6 when Caesar tears Egypt up, I'm like yup, this is something I can recommend. I just realized this show came out in 2005 though, so everyone probably has already seen it and forgotten about it. That's fine.
Go memorize the phone book while you still can.
-sXe.
Maybe a lot of stuff. My finger was bleeding earlier. I don't remember catching it on anything, but I was typing and I noticed that blood was running down the keys and onto my desk. Not a lot of blood so I didn't really consider going to the ER, but enough blood to have to get up and wash the cut and get a band-aid. I got up and went into my boss's office and grabbed a band-aid and some neosporin. I globbed the neosporin all over my middle finger and put on the band-aid. The band-aid didn't stick to well because I put on way too much neosporin, but in today's world you can never be too careful. Like, what if my cut was caused by peanut butter and anthrax. Or maybe I cut it on a rusty paperclip. Too many things to worry about.
When I got to work today there was a phone book on my chair in my work station. I didn't know why we got a phone book because we have the internet, and I told my coworker that. I said "We have the internet, we don't need a phone book." So now I am sitting on the phonebook. It's sort of weird, but I have to make my statements someway or another. Sitting on the phone book got me thinking. You know how when kids are little and they are at a restaurant and they don't have child booster seats, the staff'll grab a couple of phone books and the munchkins will sit on them? Well, in the near future when phone books become obsolete, what is going to happen to kids who can't reach the table cuz they are so small? Like you go to Chili's or something and you bring your little kid along and you ask for a booth and a booster seat, but the hostess is like oh all the booster seats are currently being used, and then you go "Oh, that's fine, just grab a few phone books, Johnny doesn't care" and then the Hostess freaks some more and goes "Oh, they dont make phone books anymore." That's when we'll realize how awful the internet really is. You can't sit on the internet. And that means the kids won't be able to reach their food. Kids'll starve thanks to the internet. The internet is worse than peanut butter I think, honestly.
Maybe that's a stretch of an idea. But I think magazines are going to disappear in the next few hours. I know Time had a huge layoff because they can't compete with the internet. Which is a shame, because I really enjoy magazines. I don't even know why I subscribe to them because I read maybe one article per issue, but I still feel it's worth it, even though I probably read about 40-50 internet articles a week. I think I got to make a spreadsheet about all this stuff.
Finally, I do give Rome the recommendation. The first 3 or 4 episodes I wasn't feeling it because I didn't know what anyone was talking about it, but by episode 5 or 6 when Caesar tears Egypt up, I'm like yup, this is something I can recommend. I just realized this show came out in 2005 though, so everyone probably has already seen it and forgotten about it. That's fine.
Go memorize the phone book while you still can.
-sXe.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Most things are bullshit
What goes around comes around. I got that tattooed around my ankle, except I had it converted into Farsi. One of the many ways I picture myself dying is by decapitation. I'm pretty sure someone is going to attack my neck with a sword, there'll be a brief skirmish, and my head will be lopped off. I think that is one of the main reasons why I love neck tattoos. I would really like to cover my neck in a scene from the book, "Where the Wild Things Are" so that way my murderer will have a hard time locating my neck. I think while he is confused, I can plan an escape, perhaps grabbing a frying pan and smacking the murderer in the head with it as hard as I can, or possibly by gathering some dynamite and blowing the murderers body apart. It sucks that I work a desk job where neck tattoos are frowned upon. If only I could be in the NBA or in a boy band.
I admire people that cover hand grenades with their bodies. They see the hand grenade land, and there is a brief instance where everybody is going to be shrapnelled to death, so one hero in the bunch makes the decision to take one for the team. They'll lay down on the grenade and do their best to smother the explosion. 9 times out of ten, only the hero gets killed. Occassionally something will go wrong, such as the hero will dive but he'll be too late or he'll miss the grenade and as a result someone else may be torn apart but that is really rare. It's not really that hard to land on top of the hand grenade if you jump at the right time. Remember when I said I picture myself dying a whole bunch of different ways? I've never pictured myself diving onto a hand grenade. It's really disappointing, because I wouldn't mind being considered a hero, but honestly, I sort of see myself throwing someone else onto it, then running like hell. I'd probably get decapitated when I got away by some angry opposing war general or possibly even my war general. "YOU COWARD" THEY'D SHOUT and they'd see past my neck tattoo and chop my friggin head off.
If I do get my head chopped off, it'd be sort of fitting that they played a quick game of football with it, before FedExing it to my parents, but something tells me that people who chop heads off really aren't interested in football. They seem like a serious bunch, who have to plot their next decapitation. It'd be neat if my neck tattoo was of a guillotine. I don't think I'll honestly ever get a neck tattoo, I just don't think I've ever blogged about a neck tattoo.
I guess this isn't a very cheery blog, but it's honestly not that bad. Does anybody else wait for trains and picture themselves jumping onto the tracks right before the train is about to start back up and go to the next train station. And telling the conductor to STTTOPPPPP! at once! Then you board the train and you look at each and every passenger to determine who has been naughty and who has been nice. You have a horse whip in your hand, and a bottle full of moonshine in the other.
I admire people that cover hand grenades with their bodies. They see the hand grenade land, and there is a brief instance where everybody is going to be shrapnelled to death, so one hero in the bunch makes the decision to take one for the team. They'll lay down on the grenade and do their best to smother the explosion. 9 times out of ten, only the hero gets killed. Occassionally something will go wrong, such as the hero will dive but he'll be too late or he'll miss the grenade and as a result someone else may be torn apart but that is really rare. It's not really that hard to land on top of the hand grenade if you jump at the right time. Remember when I said I picture myself dying a whole bunch of different ways? I've never pictured myself diving onto a hand grenade. It's really disappointing, because I wouldn't mind being considered a hero, but honestly, I sort of see myself throwing someone else onto it, then running like hell. I'd probably get decapitated when I got away by some angry opposing war general or possibly even my war general. "YOU COWARD" THEY'D SHOUT and they'd see past my neck tattoo and chop my friggin head off.
If I do get my head chopped off, it'd be sort of fitting that they played a quick game of football with it, before FedExing it to my parents, but something tells me that people who chop heads off really aren't interested in football. They seem like a serious bunch, who have to plot their next decapitation. It'd be neat if my neck tattoo was of a guillotine. I don't think I'll honestly ever get a neck tattoo, I just don't think I've ever blogged about a neck tattoo.
I guess this isn't a very cheery blog, but it's honestly not that bad. Does anybody else wait for trains and picture themselves jumping onto the tracks right before the train is about to start back up and go to the next train station. And telling the conductor to STTTOPPPPP! at once! Then you board the train and you look at each and every passenger to determine who has been naughty and who has been nice. You have a horse whip in your hand, and a bottle full of moonshine in the other.
peanut butter.
I'm having one of those weeks where I wish I was able to transform myself into a chewable Flinstone vitamin so I would forget to take myself. I'm not sure that accurately describes how I feel, but it's something along those lines. Seriously.
I think I got my glasses in the second or third grade, but I was too embarrassed to wear them to school so I usually sat underneath the blackboard so I could almost see what was going on. With my location, I remember noticing that our teacher's body sweated way more than any normal human being should sweat. Kind of like Patrick Ewing after a double overtime win. Whenever she walked by my desk I was always afraid her armpit sweat would run down her arm and drip onto my desk. However, I guess I chose to get sweated on instead of wearing glasses to school, because I'm sure the second or third grade bullies would pound on me. Eventually, I had no choice so I wore the glasses, and that is when the hyperventalating started. It got to the point where I woke up in the middle of the night and ran into my mom's room, where my mom and stepdad were "watching" Kindergarden Cop starring the future governor of California. My mom was genuinely concerned, so she drove me to the E.R. After waiting a few hours, the doctor checked me out, and after doing a thorough analysis, he prescribed a paper bag to me. "If you ever feel you are having difficulty breathing, just breathe into the bag." This was way more embarrassing than wearing glasses.
The next week in school, I could not breath at all except when it was time to go to lunch or the library or gym class or art or wherever. When all the kids would line up to class, I'd grab the paper bag out of my back pocket and I would gasp for a few precious breaths. Then I would join up with the rest of my classmates and hold my breath some more. I think eventually I did grow out of the hyperventalating, but I remember once I accidentally smeared a bunch of peanut butter all over my paper hyperventalating bag. I think that was the turning point when I began to realize most things are bullshit.
I think I got my glasses in the second or third grade, but I was too embarrassed to wear them to school so I usually sat underneath the blackboard so I could almost see what was going on. With my location, I remember noticing that our teacher's body sweated way more than any normal human being should sweat. Kind of like Patrick Ewing after a double overtime win. Whenever she walked by my desk I was always afraid her armpit sweat would run down her arm and drip onto my desk. However, I guess I chose to get sweated on instead of wearing glasses to school, because I'm sure the second or third grade bullies would pound on me. Eventually, I had no choice so I wore the glasses, and that is when the hyperventalating started. It got to the point where I woke up in the middle of the night and ran into my mom's room, where my mom and stepdad were "watching" Kindergarden Cop starring the future governor of California. My mom was genuinely concerned, so she drove me to the E.R. After waiting a few hours, the doctor checked me out, and after doing a thorough analysis, he prescribed a paper bag to me. "If you ever feel you are having difficulty breathing, just breathe into the bag." This was way more embarrassing than wearing glasses.
The next week in school, I could not breath at all except when it was time to go to lunch or the library or gym class or art or wherever. When all the kids would line up to class, I'd grab the paper bag out of my back pocket and I would gasp for a few precious breaths. Then I would join up with the rest of my classmates and hold my breath some more. I think eventually I did grow out of the hyperventalating, but I remember once I accidentally smeared a bunch of peanut butter all over my paper hyperventalating bag. I think that was the turning point when I began to realize most things are bullshit.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Wu-Tang vs. Run DMC
It's getting hot in here. There was a thing on MTV last night ranking the top 10 hip-hop or rap groups of all time. We watched it right before falling asleep, and I don't know if it played a factor in my dreams at all, but it was still a pretty interesting show. Run DMC was the #1 rap group of all time, which I guess makes sense because Run DMC was pretty ground-breaking when it came to rap groups. I can't argue with how good they are, and there role in 80's culture with the Adidas track suits/shelltop sneakers, it's just I can't believe they are the #1 rap group of all time. However, if I was given a vote, I'd probably vote for the Wu-Tang Clan, who got a curious #5 selection, behind freaking Outkast. Wu-Tang seems like a pretty serious group and they have a lot of group members so I'd vote for them based solely on size. Also, comparing the two, I'd say Wu-Tang is better than Run DMC, although I honestly don't really know too much about either of the groups. 36 Chambers is a very good rap album and I listened to it last week and it seems to still be pretty listenable, and I don't own any of Run DMC's albums, but the Who's House, Run's House song is good I guess. I guess you can argue that you can't have the Wu-Tang Clan if you don't have Run DMC, but I'm not sure I buy that really. Wu-Tang would still be the Wu-Tang with or without Run DMC because they don't sound anything alike, but DMX might not be DMX without Run DMC and the Golden State Warriors 3 guard attack of Chris Mullin/Tim Hardaway/Mitch Richmond would DEFINITELY not be Run TMC without Run DMC. I don't know if I buy this Run DMC thing. And shouldn't Run DMC get major deductions for collaborating with Aerosmith? I don't understand how anybody really got into Aerosmith. I think there was a time I liked them as a kid, but I honestly think it might have been clever marketing and me being 13 and being brainwashed by Alicia Silverstone in those crappy Aerosmith songs. All 3 of them songs were exactly the same. So perhaps Aerosmith should get some of the blame for tarnishing my remembrance of Run DMC. It's a shame too, because if I was 17 again, I'd go out and buy a Run DMC album tomorrow just because MTV showed me how important Run DMC was to the history of hip hop, and I'd get home and I'd listen to it maybe once and then halfway through I'd realize I don't even like rap or hip-hop. I don't know why it bothered me so much, I didn't get a vote, so I just went to sleep. Outkast was a curious top 5 selection though, I think their double CD is one of the most overrated CDs in the history of Compact Discs. I mean it's not bad, it's just not great. Hey Ya was a hit, but that's really the only song I remember from that double disc collection. It's amazing that album went platinum 11 times, but I guess I shouldn't be too shocked because I bought the damn thing too. Big Boy's disc was pretty forgettable, and Andre 3000's side was pretty fun I guess, but it was a stepback from their collaborative stuff in their prior albums. And how can they be considered a group when those were both solo albums. Wu-Tang got deductions because they didn't do many group albums. It's a shame Wu-Tang didn't get top ranking. If I was to do a top 10 Hip-Hop or Rap group of all time, I'd probably do it as follows. I just made the list and realized I had to stop at 7.
1. Wu-Tang Clan
2. Public Enemy
3. N.W.A.
4. Kris Kross
5. A Tribe Called Quest
6. Beastie Boys
7. Run DMC
I'm pretty tired of people always being like Oh Wu-Tang is only #5. Give me and Wu-Tang a break.
1. Wu-Tang Clan
2. Public Enemy
3. N.W.A.
4. Kris Kross
5. A Tribe Called Quest
6. Beastie Boys
7. Run DMC
I'm pretty tired of people always being like Oh Wu-Tang is only #5. Give me and Wu-Tang a break.
Monday, March 5, 2007
Monday Morning
Today was Monday. It still is technically, but I bet when you read it, it'll be another day. Maybe it'll be Friday or Thursday or Sunday. I guess there is a chance that when you read this it'll be a Monday. There's a 1 in 7 chance I guess. However with me, there's a 1 in 5 chance that this'll be a Monday because Blogger doesn't work at home. I click on blogger, and the page just goes a little haywire. Like it is trying to load up a page, but it never really actually works. Today sort of sucks. It's going so slow. Mondays usually do suck pretty bad. People say stuff like, Wish it wasn't Monday, on Monday. Having a birthday on a Monday is pretty terrible. Because then people will hate you. Because they think you are having a really good Monday since it's your birthday. Then it's like you are going to have a really good week, since it started off so great with your birthday. You don't really have your Monday, the Monday is overshadowed because it's your birthday. That's what people think anyway. I don't necessarilly believe that it is true. My birthday is just another day, and if it's a Monday, it'll probably be pretty crappy. But it's not my birthday, it's just Monday. So that being said, I don't know what else to blog about today. I wish I had some cheese doodles or something, can I get an Amen to that?
Friday, March 2, 2007
Marchness
Today seems like a good day to be not at work. Ever have one of them days? Like everyday. Wake up and go, "not going to work" and then you think about it some more and then you go "ever" and chuckle a little bit. So you hit snooze and after 15 minutes or less, you get up and totally go to work? That's what I do. Except I never hit snooze. I don't believe in taking snoozes. I just get up and swear in the shower and go to work. I ran to work today. Ran to the train anyway. It was pissing rain, so I got soaked because I'm boycotting the umbrella industry. Umbrellas are useless, I think I'm gonna buy a poncho today and a hoverboard. I was soaked on the train, and New Balances are not water proof, so my socks are pretty wet. I think I caught pneumonia, so I've been coughing obnoxiously at work. I'm waiting for someone to say, oh just go home...WOW the sun just came out. Nice. I feel better already.
I got paid today, so I think I'm going to order a Mac computer and have it shipped UPS. I love that one commercial where it's the cool, hip Mac guy, and the nerdy older IBM guy. What the hell is up with those commercials? They are not even close to being good. I hate that one commercial where the IBM guy is "upgrading" and he is getting a webcam taped to his head. And the Mac guy is like, oh I got one built into my shirt or something. Implying that the IBM guy is lame or whatever, but I think having a webcam taped to your head is pretty cool. I'd get one taped to my head if I wasn't so paranoid. Secondly, I hate the commercial cuz my sister knows the cool Mac guy. She's all, "You know that commercial, I went to college with him". He's also the guy from Dodgeball I guess. I really don't care if people know people, so I just say, OH I hate that commercial. AND I hated DODGEBALL. Which is not true, I enjoyed Dodgeball with Ben Stiller being Mr. Whitesnake or something. That was funny. My sister and her boyfriend dressed up as that commercial for Halloween Hollaback. PRETTY FUNNY, HUH? I saw the pictures. It was not very funny. My sister was just wearing some Mac labels and was making drunk faces in all the pictures, and her boyfriend had nerd glasses on. Nerd glasses apparently are just large glasses, like the ones I wore pretty much up to 8th grade. So apparently I was a nerd. I am not a nerd now (except I have a myspace account for an imaginary side project for an imaginary band and currently run 3 blogs or so with ideas for about 5 or 6 more blogs). Anyway, a nerd costume is not a great idea. Shot in the face halloween costume IS a great idea. I wish I had macaroni and cheese.
I also have a serious problem with that UPS commercial where it's that wanna-be Gen-Xer drawing on a screen with a dry erase board marker and he draws dots in a circle and then he makes a big smiley faced "U" and then he writes PS after it. It's a stretch of a good idea. I used to want to do commercials, but Red Stripe stole all my good ideas. If I was UPS or Mac I'd just get a bunch of people together, go to a bobsled trail, have all the actors do a few shots of Jaeger, and then just hit record. Then at the end I'd say UPS/Mac: This is our stupid commercial, Support America, Give us Money. That'd me my commercial. Commercial idea #2 would be like the Don't do drugs commercials. Where the people are stoned at the drive thru and they run over the little girl on the bike. That commercial rules. I'd do that ad for EVERYTHING. Commercial: Dudes (preferabbly a white dude and a black dude) in an In-N-Out, using an IBM laptop that's ginormous, they get their food, pay, speed off, but can't see over their gigantic IBM, run over a little girl. Then words "Don't kill little girls, buy a Mac". Commercial for UPS. FedEX in a drive thru at a BK (a Delivery truck in a drive thru is funny by itself), FedEx drives off, runs over a little girl. WORDS, "BROWN don't kill little girls". Something like that. Not a great idea, I guess. I'm only blogging cuz i'm bored.
VH1 did a show about white rappers. It was awful, but I watched every episode. Jus' Rhyme was the worst, but he made it to the top 3. He is a political rappers. Political rap makes no sense to me. Here's 22 pictures of Jus Rhyme.
I got paid today, so I think I'm going to order a Mac computer and have it shipped UPS. I love that one commercial where it's the cool, hip Mac guy, and the nerdy older IBM guy. What the hell is up with those commercials? They are not even close to being good. I hate that one commercial where the IBM guy is "upgrading" and he is getting a webcam taped to his head. And the Mac guy is like, oh I got one built into my shirt or something. Implying that the IBM guy is lame or whatever, but I think having a webcam taped to your head is pretty cool. I'd get one taped to my head if I wasn't so paranoid. Secondly, I hate the commercial cuz my sister knows the cool Mac guy. She's all, "You know that commercial, I went to college with him". He's also the guy from Dodgeball I guess. I really don't care if people know people, so I just say, OH I hate that commercial. AND I hated DODGEBALL. Which is not true, I enjoyed Dodgeball with Ben Stiller being Mr. Whitesnake or something. That was funny. My sister and her boyfriend dressed up as that commercial for Halloween Hollaback. PRETTY FUNNY, HUH? I saw the pictures. It was not very funny. My sister was just wearing some Mac labels and was making drunk faces in all the pictures, and her boyfriend had nerd glasses on. Nerd glasses apparently are just large glasses, like the ones I wore pretty much up to 8th grade. So apparently I was a nerd. I am not a nerd now (except I have a myspace account for an imaginary side project for an imaginary band and currently run 3 blogs or so with ideas for about 5 or 6 more blogs). Anyway, a nerd costume is not a great idea. Shot in the face halloween costume IS a great idea. I wish I had macaroni and cheese.
I also have a serious problem with that UPS commercial where it's that wanna-be Gen-Xer drawing on a screen with a dry erase board marker and he draws dots in a circle and then he makes a big smiley faced "U" and then he writes PS after it. It's a stretch of a good idea. I used to want to do commercials, but Red Stripe stole all my good ideas. If I was UPS or Mac I'd just get a bunch of people together, go to a bobsled trail, have all the actors do a few shots of Jaeger, and then just hit record. Then at the end I'd say UPS/Mac: This is our stupid commercial, Support America, Give us Money. That'd me my commercial. Commercial idea #2 would be like the Don't do drugs commercials. Where the people are stoned at the drive thru and they run over the little girl on the bike. That commercial rules. I'd do that ad for EVERYTHING. Commercial: Dudes (preferabbly a white dude and a black dude) in an In-N-Out, using an IBM laptop that's ginormous, they get their food, pay, speed off, but can't see over their gigantic IBM, run over a little girl. Then words "Don't kill little girls, buy a Mac". Commercial for UPS. FedEX in a drive thru at a BK (a Delivery truck in a drive thru is funny by itself), FedEx drives off, runs over a little girl. WORDS, "BROWN don't kill little girls". Something like that. Not a great idea, I guess. I'm only blogging cuz i'm bored.
VH1 did a show about white rappers. It was awful, but I watched every episode. Jus' Rhyme was the worst, but he made it to the top 3. He is a political rappers. Political rap makes no sense to me. Here's 22 pictures of Jus Rhyme.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
More Yes Mustache Songs
Traffic Jam on the Interstate
It took to long to get home
Stuck in a subway station
with a plastic bag face mask
I can't afford to get sick
When I finally did get home
I realized I had left my keys
at work under my desk in my work shoes
my feet covered now in holey socks
I tried the fire escape
and thankfully I left the
bedroom window slightly open
and on getting inside, I sighed in relief
There's ways to do things
There's a right way and a wrong way
a quick way a short way a long way
a highway a thru way a get away
It doesn't matter to me how you
go about doing things, it
doesn't eve matter, I'm
pretty sure I'm not even paying attention.
Falling Down Hills Pretending they are Volcanoes
When you fell down the
hill people thought it was
accidental but replays show
you were not alone
It was a miracle that
anybody even found you
you were knocked unconscious
bleeding, broken every bone.
How do you feel now that
you know what really happened
Are you looking to fight
back and get even?
Take that day and
multiply your feelings on
itself and when you
done that 10 times
Get back to me
and eventually you'll
begin to understand how
you made me feel.
Boy sets fire, man puts it out
Say what you want, but atleast they did something about it.
When was the last time you did something that
made you feel so um um so alive
And who are you to just stand their and
a wait an orduh one you never question but you
follow it and with a garden hose you drown the rose bush
In the classroom their quietness was mistaken
for weakness but it's your cowardice that sparked
their self censorship
Underneat the rose bush they await
and as the sun absorbs the ocean
they will grow back tenfold.
And when you try drowning them out again
you better hope they haven't grown gills
I sort of hopoe that they haven't either
cuz i don't know how to uh uh swim.
Christopher Columbus BLVD.
Not another song about suh suh suicide
you got it if you want it
not another song about guh guh genocide
you got it if you clap your hands
If everyone stands in a line and
puts their hands on the shoulder of
the person in front of them
eventually we'd divide the world in two
I sure hope Columbus was wrong
a change in the wind can
knock the line off the edge
and into the jaws of the waiting unknown
Or I hope the middle man's knees
don't begin to faulter because
a collapse would mean disaster
for those behind and those in front
Also I hope no onoe begins
to push and shove because
that'll just leave us in
a pile where the weak get dead
I guess while you are forming
your impenetrable chain, I'll
be in the basement with a
shovel and a pail getting a head start.
My roll in history
At the dinner table
we meet again
All of us afraid
you had a bad day
This is where
eating disorders come from
the faster I eat
the faster I can get away
Hell is an overstatement
but normal is a dream
Nightmares could end
swiftly with a steak knife
You eventually stopped coming
to dinner altogether
you pulled me aside and
said that is what I asked for
You looked me in the eyes
and I didn't think you lied
I did ask for this
but honestly I think you got off E-Z.
We're older now and we
look back with mixed
emotions but generally
there all pretty messed up.
The train schedule is optimistic (time to get ill)
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
(music for 4 measures)
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
(Heavy breakdown)
Good things come
to those who WAIT
And by good things we mean
mental illnesses (YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH)
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
(music for 8 measures)
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
(Breakdown. HEEAAAVY)
My hypochondriac visions
show me as an OLD MAN
It's not a pleasant sight
I'm getting sicker and I'm still waiting (YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH)
(Back to intro then fade).
The Last Day of February (not a Smashmouth cover)
People all around me covered in sweat
while I'm in the middle calmly standing
If I make one questionable move
things are probably going to get pretty ugly
I see your face in my mirror
and I'm not sure if I like what I see
however I'm afraid if I break eye contact
The broken glass will tear me apart
When did it get to this?
Do you really need to know?
It was obvious to me from day one
you were smarter than me then
I can't blame you for letting
your emotions ruin the world
It seemed like a good idea
at the time. It always does.
But in the end it kind of worked out
we're in different spots
but the resemblance is there and
I've grown from your mistakes
And I'm way to uninterested in payback.
It took to long to get home
Stuck in a subway station
with a plastic bag face mask
I can't afford to get sick
When I finally did get home
I realized I had left my keys
at work under my desk in my work shoes
my feet covered now in holey socks
I tried the fire escape
and thankfully I left the
bedroom window slightly open
and on getting inside, I sighed in relief
There's ways to do things
There's a right way and a wrong way
a quick way a short way a long way
a highway a thru way a get away
It doesn't matter to me how you
go about doing things, it
doesn't eve matter, I'm
pretty sure I'm not even paying attention.
Falling Down Hills Pretending they are Volcanoes
When you fell down the
hill people thought it was
accidental but replays show
you were not alone
It was a miracle that
anybody even found you
you were knocked unconscious
bleeding, broken every bone.
How do you feel now that
you know what really happened
Are you looking to fight
back and get even?
Take that day and
multiply your feelings on
itself and when you
done that 10 times
Get back to me
and eventually you'll
begin to understand how
you made me feel.
Boy sets fire, man puts it out
Say what you want, but atleast they did something about it.
When was the last time you did something that
made you feel so um um so alive
And who are you to just stand their and
a wait an orduh one you never question but you
follow it and with a garden hose you drown the rose bush
In the classroom their quietness was mistaken
for weakness but it's your cowardice that sparked
their self censorship
Underneat the rose bush they await
and as the sun absorbs the ocean
they will grow back tenfold.
And when you try drowning them out again
you better hope they haven't grown gills
I sort of hopoe that they haven't either
cuz i don't know how to uh uh swim.
Christopher Columbus BLVD.
Not another song about suh suh suicide
you got it if you want it
not another song about guh guh genocide
you got it if you clap your hands
If everyone stands in a line and
puts their hands on the shoulder of
the person in front of them
eventually we'd divide the world in two
I sure hope Columbus was wrong
a change in the wind can
knock the line off the edge
and into the jaws of the waiting unknown
Or I hope the middle man's knees
don't begin to faulter because
a collapse would mean disaster
for those behind and those in front
Also I hope no onoe begins
to push and shove because
that'll just leave us in
a pile where the weak get dead
I guess while you are forming
your impenetrable chain, I'll
be in the basement with a
shovel and a pail getting a head start.
My roll in history
At the dinner table
we meet again
All of us afraid
you had a bad day
This is where
eating disorders come from
the faster I eat
the faster I can get away
Hell is an overstatement
but normal is a dream
Nightmares could end
swiftly with a steak knife
You eventually stopped coming
to dinner altogether
you pulled me aside and
said that is what I asked for
You looked me in the eyes
and I didn't think you lied
I did ask for this
but honestly I think you got off E-Z.
We're older now and we
look back with mixed
emotions but generally
there all pretty messed up.
The train schedule is optimistic (time to get ill)
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
(music for 4 measures)
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
This train will never get here.
(Heavy breakdown)
Good things come
to those who WAIT
And by good things we mean
mental illnesses (YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH)
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
(music for 8 measures)
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
This train will never get here
(Breakdown. HEEAAAVY)
My hypochondriac visions
show me as an OLD MAN
It's not a pleasant sight
I'm getting sicker and I'm still waiting (YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH)
(Back to intro then fade).
The Last Day of February (not a Smashmouth cover)
People all around me covered in sweat
while I'm in the middle calmly standing
If I make one questionable move
things are probably going to get pretty ugly
I see your face in my mirror
and I'm not sure if I like what I see
however I'm afraid if I break eye contact
The broken glass will tear me apart
When did it get to this?
Do you really need to know?
It was obvious to me from day one
you were smarter than me then
I can't blame you for letting
your emotions ruin the world
It seemed like a good idea
at the time. It always does.
But in the end it kind of worked out
we're in different spots
but the resemblance is there and
I've grown from your mistakes
And I'm way to uninterested in payback.
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