Somebody’s Gotta Relate
There’s something I have to say, for anyone out there who watches cable television.
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Unwrapped is like How It’s Made for pussies.
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The Badgers and the Elephants
This is a cute little poem I wrote while waiting for some friends in a coffee shop the other day. I was going to add more, but I think it’s pretty done.
The Badgers and the Elephants
Had fought since Long Ago
For land, and pride, and history
On sea, and sand, and snow
They fought because their parents fought
(Their parents did the same)
And so on back through centuries
They’d fought in heaven’s Name
The problem with this story was
(Which neither would admit)
That though they fought for the great Name
No one remembered it
‘Twas written in the Ancient Tongue
Not spoke since Long Ago
And since they studied only war
No one was left to know
You Haven’t Had Enough of My Excuses
Hey all-
I haven’t been posting much lately, and for that I’m sorry. I’d planned on writing up a storm once I got back from school, especially since I’ve now got a job which involves long periods of sitting in front of a computer, but it hasn’t happened. In addition to my natural laziness, this is because I’ve been working on a few personal things. “Personal,” by the way, means you don’t get to see them. Anyway, those should be slowing down soon, and hopefully then I can get back to entertaining you all with half-assed fiction and interminable lists of nothing. Until then: courage, baby, courage.
A Partial List of Scents
I’m sure any product with one of these names would make you irresistible. If it didn’t, well, that’d just be your fault.
1. Manifest Destiny
2. Pine Zone
3. Left Hook
4. Fire and Ice
5. Plasma Energy
6. Dark Matter
7. Red Tide
8. Slow Burn
9. Earth, Wind, Fire and Water
10. Ancient Mist
11. Lavos Core
12. Citrus Hell
13. Heterosexual Musk
14. Lazer
15. Smell of Gambling
16. Mountain Dew
17. Cro Magnon
18. Burning Rubber
19. Smell You Later
20. Bam!
Star Wars-Themed Yo Mamma Jokes
These were written by Nick, Roger, and myself.
-Yo mamma so fat, she’s like an AT-AT, as opposed to the smaller, more maneuverable AT-ST scout transport!
-Yo mamma so fat, many Bothan spies died to bring her her dinner!
-Isn’t yo mamma a little short for a stormtrooper?
-Yo mamma so fat, she fell to the dark side, and kept falling!
-Yo mamma so ugly, she’s a scruffy-looking nerf-herder!
-Yo mamma so fat, she’s no moon, she’s a space station!
-Yo mamma so wretched and scummy and villanous that we must be cautious!
-Yo mamma far too trusting. We’ll deal with her rebel friends soon enough.
-Yo mamma so fat, the odds against not finding her fat are approximately 3,720 to 1!
-Yo mamma so old, she fell to the dark side and couldn’t get up!
-Yo mamma so slutty, she let me fuck her! I am your father!
-Yo mamma so fat, she’s got the death sentence on 12 systems!
-Yo mamma so weak-minded, I got her to take me to Jabba without using a jedi mind trick!
-Yo mamma so fat, she chew on power cables like a mynock!
-Yo mamma. Powerful jedi was she. Powerful jedi.
-Yo mamma look strong enough to pull the ears off a gundark!
My Sister
As far back as I can remember, I’ve always had memories. And my oldest memories, the ones from my youngest days, are of my sister. She was the light of my life, the apple of my eye, and my sister. Julia. From the moment she was born, and my mother gave birth to her, she was a baby. But not for long. I remember my mother bringing her home after giving birth to her, placing her in my arms, and letting me hold her, after she’d brought her back from the hospital, and thinking, “My god.” She wasn’t my god, but she was my sister, newly born. A baby. Julia. I held her in my arms, looked down at her little wrinkled baby face, and never wanted to let go. She had just come back from the hospital, and her little baby face, wrinkled after being born, made me think, “My god.” We were inseparable.
From that point on, we could never be separated. Every day after school, I would run home to spend time with the baby, my sister, Julia. I would run home, greet my mother, now long back from the hospital, at the door, and spend time with Julia, my baby sister. She was just a tiny baby then, so I would do the playing for both of us, waving stuffed animals at her, reading her my favorite books, and watching her stare, uncomprehending, with her wrinkled baby face. She wouldn’t participate much in the playing, being a tiny baby, but I took care of that. I would read her my favorite books sometimes, or even wave stuffed animals at her, to try and get a reaction. But she would only stare, uncomprehending.
I was there when she spoke her first word, too. How couldn’t I be? We were inseparable. We’d spend all our time together. In fact, one day, after I’d run home from school to spend time with her, she looked up at me and spoke her first word. What a pivotal moment. I had gotten so used to her as a silent figure, just a little wrinkled baby face staring uncomprehending at me from her crib as I waved my favorite books at her, that I was totally unprepared for her to speak her first word. She did, however, one day, after I’d run home from school to spend time with the baby, her. Julia. My sister. It was magical.
The magic was to last, however. As she continued to be a baby, she spoke more words, becoming, ever so slowly, a talking baby. At first I couldn’t believe it. I mean, I could hardly believe it when she spoke her first word, that fateful day I ran home from school to spend time with her, and so when she started talking all the time, ever so slowly, it was a whole shock unto itself. I was simply shocked. Before long, she started talking all the time. From her first word, that fateful day, to the point where she started talking all the time, I couldn’t believe it. She was developing a real personality; I could really get to know her; she talked all the time. She was also developing a real personality, a real vision of the woman she would become.
Before long, it was her first day of school. My 5-year-old sister, looking so grown-up despite her 5 years. That is, until she started to cry. There I was, right there, thinking she was so grown-up for a 5-year-old, and she started to cry! Right in front of me! I cleared the tears from-her-five-year-old-face and told her to cheer up. She was so grown-up, and yet she cried. I tried to cheer her up, telling her to, but I for one don’t think she ever forgave me for abandoning her. She felt that by making her go to school, my parents and I were abandoning her, and so she felt abandoned, and I didn’t think she would ever forgive me, for one. But she did.
I remember teaching her to ride a bike. It was a crisp Fall day in the Fall, and the Autumnal weather signalled to me: it is time to teach her to ride a bike. Teach who? My sister, Julia, no more a baby, but a child. On her recent birthday, my parents had recently bought her a bike as a birthday present, so it was the perfect Fall day to teach her to ride a bike. We went outside, chilled Autumnally, and she rode a bike for the first time. I taught her to. It was magical. Pretty soon she was biking everywhere, on the bike I taught her, just as before she had started talking all the time after I heard her say her first word. That fateful day.
As time went by, we grew older, and aged. I became a young man, and after some intervening years had put time in our lives, so did she. I had my first date, and caught Julia spying on us through the keyhole in my door. Boy was I mad. I mean, she knew I was on a date, my first one, and yet she still felt the need to look through the keyhole in my door during my date! I was livid. Boy was I. I got over it though, until she had her first date. I was mad again, boy. She was my little sister. A baby. Julia; and she was going on a date?! I didn’t think so. She did think so, however, and even I soon had to acknowledge my sister, Julia, was becoming a woman. I didn’t think so. But it was true.
That was when we started to drift apart at that point. We no longer had so much in common. These days we hardly ever speak, having little in common. I was there on that fateful day when she spoke her first word, and after that for the duration of her beginning and continuing to talk all the time, and now we barely ever speak at all. I guess we just don’t have that much in common anymore. Like that time I taught her to ride a bike in the Fall. Those times are over. I guess we’ve just drifted apart, my sister Julia and I. I do remember her, though.
It’s “Tip,” Actually
A friend of mine, Nick sent me an old recording of me describing the Wizard of Oz books to another friend of mine, Mike, from some years ago. It is embarrassing, but I promised to post it if he agreed to type it up. So here it is.
Maπ: Tick Tock was a character from one of the Wizard of Oz books… actually a couple of them.
Mike: How many were there?
Maπ: 14.
Mike: Oh I thought there were only two.
Maπ: Uh-uh. [negative]
Mike: Are they… they’re all about original characters? I mean, like… individual characters.
Maπ: Um, no. But they have different characters. Only like 3 of them have Dorothy in them.
Mike: Oh.
MaÏ€: And not the first three — like, scattered.
Mike: So why did that one become popular?
Maπ: What?
Mike: Why did that one become…
MaÏ€: That’s the first one.
Mike: Oh, it is the first one.
Maπ: Mm.
Mike: So the first one didn’t… DID have dorothy in it?
Maπ: Yeah.
Mike: Oh but not the first three.
Maπ: No…
Mike: Cause the second one had Tock…
Maπ: Mm-mm. [negative]
Mike: Top.
MaÏ€: Is it Top? I think it’s something like that. And in the end he becomes Ozma.