Thursday, December 14, 2017



President Bump at the Cream House Hanukkah Party:

Schumer: hello, sir, you still like me?

Bump: where's Jared?

Schumer *eyeglasses on his nose and holding a drink*: remember, sir? you sent him to the Wailing Wall on a mission.

Bump: shoulda went.

Schumer: he kissed the wall and the wall collapsed. he still has that strong voice whenever he opens his mouth.

Schumer morphs into Jared.

Bump: AAAAH! i think i'm going crazy.

Jared: it's okay, pops. i ate a Golem while i was over there and gained shapeshifting powers as well.


at the North/South Korean Border, a spy is making his escape into the crowd of the upcoming Winter Olympics.

South Korea: halt! *whistle* we see you! what is your purpose here?

Kim: please, i'm not that hot. i haven't decided. i have no plans. i was scouting locations. going on a college tour. seeing which university was the right fit for my specific needs. namely, i want to go to a real university and learn actual facts. you know, like real history which can be verified by another country. they say the premier Olympic athletes all train on campuses. otherwise i'm doomed to repeat second grade.


Anderson Cooper sits in his robe in his mansion by his phone next to the deep ruby-green potted plant by the scooped-out Hefner cigarette black ceramic ashtray. not only is Anderson the last major anchor to have a landline, he is the last one who still smokes.

he is in a frightful state. he has hit a roadblock in his pristine mind and the quandary is making him stroke his chin internally.

Anderson: whom do i invite to host New Year's Eve with me this year?

he plays with three white business cards on the backs of which sit three phone numbers. he taps his polished oak desk with the card corners and resolutely picks up the receiver. that warm dial tone pipes in.

Anderson: i've made up my pristine mind.


Auverin touches my jeaned knee which juts out like a sore thumb oak-tree branch that is sickly and knotty and needs to be buzzsawed off to save it. that is the first time to my recollection that she has ever touched me.

she waves her hand over the too-low coffee table in the periodical room. her butt in those jeans matches my twin excitement.

Auverin: when's your shift start? i saw you the other day trip over a book on the floor cos your head was in the clouds. that was funny. nobody does that anymore. is it strange to you to see Sports Illustrated in fawn-colored cardboard-paper jacket dustcovers looking like cheap Catholic textbooks?

me: i got fired. or i quit. doesn't matter. i think it looks classy.

Auverin: i mean the point is mag covers are in existence to be seen. your boss was my roommate until that early suicide rearranged the dormroom seating chart. got me a single.

me: the coveted single. privacy. but loneliness. you talkin' bout Tori? the fat D'arcy from Smashing Pumpkins?.......whoops, sorry

Auverin chuckles under her bred feminist breath.

this is a miracle! i never saw this girl smile once. she was always so stern in Faulkner Class. she wore lipstick but no one ever noticed a color cos all they saw were her lips tight.

Auverin: what's in the bag? i'm hungry.

you know, i can't seem to recall what was in that brown bag. sorry.

me: you know we're not supposed to bring food in. even though that's rarely enforced. muffuletta. can you believe it? the deli was out of sourdough but had muffuletta for everything. and only one topping: celery.

Auverin: i could go for some cranberry-nut bread. that is so this college scene.

me: who is this fat guy that's on every ad i read and tv show about radio headphones i see? with the beard. he speaks so confidently like he's the king of some quadrant queen city but i've never heard of him.

Auverin: DJ Khaled. he is the everyman. he's on apple music. he's done something, collaborated with some song you've heard. he's a father now. he speaks with the hip-hop tenor of the streets. he's been around forever tho you've never heard of him. been behind the scenes. just coming out now. he talks with the authority of a man who's seen it all, done it all, lived it all in his one year onscreen. he's making the most of this year. he's got a butler.

me: did you hear about Mr. Maldark? that was a wild scene.

Auverin: bubble fenders. scholars are still trying to piece together his final words. i heard he took his last piece of bacon out his backpocket, dabbed the grease of it to his both eyes and two nipples and bellybutton for good measure. scholars love to tell symbolic stories. it appeared he was crying and Codrus asks him if he's crying and trying to hide his crying cos he's dying and Maldark exclaims that he's crying happy tears cos he now won't have to see his cats die in front of him. then Maldark makes the dab pose to his class and waits to disappear.

me: apparently it really went down like this: Maldark is wearing his famous long shirt. Halwa asks him if that shirt is a shirt or a skirt. Maldark answers with his famous response. he says, "this is neither a housedress nor a shirt. it is a smock." that's it. that was his last word and action.

Auverin: when does your semester end then?

me: i'd rather not think about that. i can't say. i'm focused on today, right now. still have one more final to go. that's why i'm here. not really. i just like the chairs here.

Auverin: just came. from there. it was easy. i breezed through it half-asleep. easy breezy. you'll do fine. is that a coffee in your pocket? why yes it is. can i have some of yours?

well how bout that. y'know i can't remember ever being in a position where i'm sitting in a chair and i'm looking directly across the room into the eyes of a girl sitting in a chair the same type as me directly opposite me in a straight line. just kind of a quirk of mine. did i say girl? i meant person.

o Auverin. o girl not yet a woman. i need to describe just how beautiful this person is. how beautiful she is to me. but i'm too distracted pretending to be deeply interested in what's going on in the newspaper. the newspaper is the perfect fence for me to rest my nose and peep over to take a look. and hope she isn't looking back. academic and all that.

Wednesday, December 13, 2017


it was simply and without reservation the defining day of my life.

the library was my sanctuary. from myself, my school, and my stupid dorm room. i hated people and university life just reinforced that notion. the only good part was i could eat top ramen seven days a week which was my dream finally fulfilled. i was not meant to be with people. to hang around them, engage them, exchange handshakes and fluids with them. i was a social butterfly net. but i love intimacy. i love cramped quarters. i love an enclosed room. makes me feel safe, snug, protected. i imagine what it's like outside, the cruel world outside full of newspapers of the latest empty scandals and power grabs, and me inside blissfully unawares of the evil machinations which keep the dirty coin rotating, reaching for an arizona weave blanket as i pore over a gluey tome of forgotten lore.

the Gardner Main Stacks were a bitch, i used to work here. shelving and reshelving and deshelving and rotating those stupid silver behemoth stacks, large rectangles on train wheels one by one, with that stupid silver spoked captain's wheel, rolling and rolling to find the correct letter-and-number combination. those stupid rolling carts with the one squeaky wheel, always the one wheel. the masking-taped-up collection bins like beige trash cans so massive they had to be elevatored. looking back, it was all so silly. and made me mingle with people. why did i do it? money? i had my parents for that. credits? i was an English major, none of that shit mattered. i mean this was all towards an English degree which was a useless piece of paper in and of itself, what's the big deal? just cos everyone got a job when they entered college? to pay for weed? i suppose. maybe i lost my mind for a split second and actually harbored the crazy notion that i didn't want to die alone.

the only good which came from holding down a job for a month before i feigned a life-threatening illness over the phone and quit on the spot on a whim one Monday, these things always occur on a Monday, was it familiarized myself with the terrain. this was a huge cavernous byzantine library as befitted the second most illustrious institutuion of higher learning on the planet, so it had to play the part of the academic tower of ivory. well, marble. you know you're big time when your book shop is held up by fluted marble colonnades. honestly there were books stacked up and stickied together with dust three rows deep the likes of which i had no idea of. i mean there were elevator shafts going to places inside here that were filled to the brim with unmarked books and heavy map books (not my problem anymore) in bins full of information that could have been alien invasion plans and porn for all i knew. i was only a small part of this, i worked in the student section away from the main commotion of the important students, the scholars with the free rides and frat captains making a name for themselves. it was always harder when you didn't have a past relative as a sponsor with an apostrophe-two-number-year by their side to guide you with money and prestige, you felt like a stranger in a strange land, which is exactly how i have always felt everywhere.

but the one area i memorized was this passage-away right by the main entrance. though it was right at the front no tourists notice it the first time, the entrance is blocked by a huge planted plant, an indoor palm tree. i love intimate spaces. small spaces lit by fake electrical light. beats an outdoor space anyday, too country, everyone can see me, the world can see me, too open, lit by a dying star. when i'm in a room that indicates that a building was built, four walls with definite set dimensions, a place, i can let my guard down and run around in a circle like a freed buck-toothed chipmunk. i loved my little corner nook in this grand edifice of learning. my little piece of the lighthouse. it was like the first stop of a hotel tour, the clerk with all the keys to the land hung around him. you know i know there was always someone manning the counter here but for the life of me i can't remember what any of those people looked like, men or women, which is a real shame. and for that i am sorry, they were probably grad students looking for credits like me and everyone else, too. i guess my focus was lazered on other things.

it's weird coming back to the place you used to work. as a free man. not under the stress of punchcards or whether your boss with the pink blonde hair is too cute to work for that it's a conflict of interest. like eating at McDonald's after working there, the hamburger tastes extra long. this morning as in each morning i would stroll onto campus, i probably had classes of some sort but that is of no concern at the moment, i'd hide my coffee cup, they were small enough to secret in pockets, remember that lid!, and crawl into the first chair i found empty. the chairs were weird, they were like lounge chairs on the beach but of '70s pleather and long oval uncomfortable silver poles straight out of a Y community pool. they were hard to sit in but easy to sleep in. by the used Reader's Digests sat the bank of newspapers, so college-bound. each newspaper was bound, coiled into the beaded spine of a long hollowed-out bamboo pole. you didn't flip through a series of ink pages, you rotated the pole and circularized the circular as you read it. this was my favorite thing to do, pick up one of these bamboo poles and rest it back on its hinges.

Auverin: it's just rain, dude. not snow. spare me your English-major dramatics.

me: i'm always creating an atmosphere.

Monday, December 11, 2017


1. with whom would you like to take a bath? my cats. and Noops my dogfather.
2. you are in a motorcycle riding hard down a country road, wind in your hair. who is the hottie on the bike with you? are you riding or driving? that Flo Progressive commercial huh. it's not a true country road unless there is no road. i'm bald but i still break wind. a sunglassed Flo is in front of me driving and that AT&T girl with the big...names is in the back of me for protection. Milana Vayntrub, too much woman for me, too many exotic names, i can only peep her from her vain tub as she swims up to heaven. i am scared of driving cars, so...that's like asking Garfield to suddenly start eating eggplant lasagna. do i ride bitch? yes, yes i do.
3. baking naked---who is kneading your dough? Mary Berry. i waited that entire two hours watching the Christmas special but i never saw her soggy bottom. very disappointing. i thought PBS was more progressive than that.
4. come sail away, come sail away, come and sail away with me! who is joining you for a sexy sea adventure? Christopher Cross. i heard he only takes off his stetson when he makes the sign of the cross. he never makes the sign of the cross shortly before getting out on stage with his double-barreled guitar (which does look kinda silly), he only prays when he sails cos he admitted in a magazine once he doesn't know how to sail and only wrote that song cos SpongeBob blew his mind the first time he watched it.
5. "i got your back." hands down who do you fully support? stick by no matter what, who are you willing to help at all costs? my chiropractor. to keep my costs low. he said my insurance premiums would rise if i didn't do everything in his rider. when he puts his hands on my back they're always sticky. i need this. microfracture surgery is too expensive. Tommy John is dead. all i know how to do in this world is play tennis. i boxed myself into a corner when i beat that Russian boxer. i forgot the match was fixed and went all out and won. I was supposed to lose. it was fishy how my opponent just stood there on court like a dead fish and never went after anything. now i have to play in the Olympics even if i think tennis is starting to get boring. this isn't like the old days when Chris Evert walked onto some muni court in Pomona with a literal tree branch for a racquet and the crowd was just happy to be there cos they were listening to Band of Gold for the first time.

bonus: belly button---inny or outty? are you going to show us? inny. really inny. my bellybutton is an electrical socket. wanna see? there. see it?


Friday, December 8, 2017



* i broke my fingernail. excruciating pain. i may not be able to type some words

* ooooh, PG S. waiting for the Sex. PG-rated sex is always an odd duck, it's always something you don't expect (in the dialogue or something)

* it was island nudity.

* Adventure Time meets Sergio Aragones large and colorized. Adventure Time is an odd duck, you want it to go on forever cos the world and time zones allow for that but at the same time you're kinda looking for it to end to take its place alongside that fanciful Regular Show sonder which hit your mind whilst walking down the street.

* btw i'm eating Lucky Charms in a bowl without milk. found out this morning my gallon of Trader Joe's milk soured two days ago...

* books now only exist as graphics. hey, remember maps?

* is it a UFO or a baby's toy?...

* projector basketball net

*...or that sour candy shaped like a UFO, filled with harmless powder

* is this it? it can't just be computer shapes and shit, you gotta try

* the brain is yucky-looking but important. it still freaks me out to see the human body without skin. the red membrane with the muscles and sinews and blood vessels and eyes popping out. disconcerting. skeletons are charming by comparison, at least they offer you a flower before they dance.

* don't think out of your ass

* the Sword of Saad

* wanna get away? the coconut milk will be yellow.

* emojis are birthed from worms. they dry out much like the honeycomb of bees...

* have you ever wondered why Hot Tamales look like pills?

* inside the DNA of emojis? birdseed.

* i need one of those trash cans that open up by pushing a step with your foot at the bottom in my bedroom.

* censoring eyes

* Roger Federer will play for the Chinese Table Tennis team at the next Olympics. Roger is not giving up his dream of winning that individual Gold.

* Demi Moore: doing some exotic training with my Chocolate Man here gearing up for that G.I. Jane sequel. as you can see, this time Jane will have hair i made that clear to Ridley. where have i been? don't tell Madonna but i'm now a fat soccer mom.

* is working out at a gym really somebody's idea of paradise?

* the Tachikomas want to stand. they want to dab. they want to tap-dance like the late great Gregory Hines.

* when the fat-suit sticks to you on a hot day

* Garden of Eden. you knew this was coming.

* huh, never thought of that. use the apple to spit-roast the snake. good job, Eve!

* what do you do when The Sims starts glitching? and how can you tell?

* see? the googly eyes. eyes really need a face for them to look normal.

* don't smoke, kids. leave those cigarettes to sway in nature like plants.

* be heart-healthy. don't date a smoker. he'll just break your heart.

* dating is hell

* there is only one Nebula that matters. the Crab Nebula.

* Business Dracula. works at Hot Topic. i entered a Hot Topic last Black Friday for the first time in decades. it's so weird going there as an adult vs. a desperate teenager trying to impress. when you go there as a kid it's just a place that sells Morty shirts. whatever you think of the show, it's impressive. it achieved worldwide acclaim being on adult swim, not FOX or any of the other big-brand channels.

* devil with horns: satanic. devil without horns: Marilyn Manson

* Tool videos look strange in preproduction. this one will be a musing on Harley Quinn.

* perv bees

* Star Wars preproduction looks like manga...

* when manga comes to life. but is not anime.

* all a woman really wants is a good facial. a good mud facial.

* Leslie from Gumball is definitely a lesbian...

* valiant effort, but this one just didn't take. Dave, if you're listening, it's time to start doing these yourself again. i'm all for guest animators, growing the brand, but be honest, you only did this cos you were sick of doing all the work.

* that being said, i will say that "Paradise" is just about the most obtuse and opaque subject of all time. i mean it's simply an impossible topic to illustrate. let's get back to basics. "Water" still hasn't technically been done. "Power" is doable...maybe. "Cookies". not "Cookies".


happy weekend, my babies

Monday, December 4, 2017


1. what do you find sexiest in a woman? her mystery. you're never gonna know what she really is thinking. it's probably better you don't know. everyone is in a rush to learn how to read minds but i'm not sure that's such a hot idea. it would make first dates even awkwarder. first, in order for humanity to evolve, we must move to another planet. that's the only way we can really start over. the most beautiful thing ever created is women. all things were created by God. thus it would figure that God is a woman. it's all falling into place...

2. what do you find sexiest in a man? the most beautiful thing in this world is watching a grown man cry.

3. have you ever been the other woman or man? would you do it again? yes. it was fun. for a while. i ran around town like a secret snake spending every damn last penny i had. on booze, women, and movies. then i started thinking about whom i was hurting and i started to cry. it was the most beautiful thing in the world. everyone in the world stopped what they were doing in their tracks and stared at me.

4. who puts more into a romantic relationship you or your significant other? i can't offer much. i'm always tired. i always need a hat. i have no money. but i can write you tons and tons of poems, that's romantic, right?

5. do you have a work wife or office husband? this is my only incentive to have a real office job. he or she will probably end up being the best relationship you ever have on earth. you spend the most time with them, moreso than your spouse. and it's real love, pure, no messiness. nowadays there REALLY is no messiness going on.

bonus: are you in a healthy relationship? what makes you think so? we do yoga together. we pretzel ourselves into positions that are only possible to achieve with two people.

bonus bonus: is the "work spouse" strictly a U.S. American anomaly (they do spend an insane amount of hours at work)? one study found 32% of Americans admitted to having a work spouse. we cannot keep dividing ourselves like this. we must not continue to see things in terms of Americans, Brits, and other. we must work in concert. it's the only way the species will survive. when we are offered a job offer in kindness, we must not slam the door in the person's face and literally kick them out to the curb like in Outlaw Star. come together, right now, over me. we can't dance in the stars till we learn how to dance. we REALLY need to locate that new planet, time is running out on Earth...


Friday, December 1, 2017



* i seriously need to get to a spa. don't necessarily need my nails did tho i wouldn't refuse. i want to be pampered with pillows. i want a pillow for my feet. i want a pillow just to lay my wrist on. i want to rest my head in one of those spa chairs with the circle cut out so i can place my face in there and look at the floor tiling. get me to a Swedish hot spring. i need a spa day.

* not porn

* can i be stuck in the middle with you?

* woman: my neck hurts.
me: that's the thing with yoga. good for your mind, bad for your body.

* woman: why are all these pervs filming my ass?
crew: we're doing an Off the Air.
woman: oh.

* crew: hey man, you didn't see that drone flying straight toward you?!
man: no, i had these Google Goggles on my face. blind as a bat.

* ever since Steve Jobs's passing, life just isn't exciting anymore.

* never meet your heroes. never meet the team who designed your favorite video game.

* Zordon is taking his first night off in 3000 years.

* THE TALKING HEADS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! y'know the full unedited music video to "Once in a Lifetime" is harder to secure than you may think. i had to use Croatian youtube.

* programmer: i need to hump the floor to test the low sensors.

* AB. does AB come after A but before B or after B?

* oh look! it's the fortran blueprint of that '80s Russian-American Embassy that was rigged with listening devices. bring back the Cold War! lines were clearer back then. movie villains were cheesier. video games were more innocent. everything was more mutual and zero-sum. everything's too muddled nowadays.

* ipads are cool and everything but the computer reached its apex with the Macintosh.

* i think it's high time we finally complete the 1980 Moscow Olympics. let's see how it would have been if every country participated. all drugs allowed.

* Harley's original three hyenas

* i keep telling people. Sims becomes really boring after a while.

* our pets have it right. the most interesting thing about unboxing videos is the box.

* Edward Scissorhands 2: Winona's daughter steals some clothes and only she can discipline her cos Ed still has his scissorhands.....................y'know nevermind, let's let that film remain a solitary classic.

* stop littering our natural world with invoices! stop buying stuff!

* Tom Peterson watch...

* stop with the animal abuse! all you existentialist filmmakers can still make your point without harming animals!

* this would have worked better as a silent film. the black cotton shirt, the checkerboard kitchen tablecloth, Charlie Chaplin stuff

* Sasha Grey is not returning to porn. she is auditioning for the Legend of the Seeker reboot.

* if you feel you've gone crazy, if you're in a nightmare world with no escape, you still have an out. a set of Star Trek: The Next Generation hologram doors will suddenly open up where that tree used to be. that hologram-door sound is the most beautiful sound in the world.

* don't enter a door unless it's lying flat on the ground

* even with all this technology there's nothing to wear

* Sasha: the only thing real in this world is my ass.

* cat: you see your universe, i smell my universe. you people stink.

* Scratch N Sniff is a scam

* sadly, in today's world, you must be wary of shirtless dudes wielding hammers and knives and shit wearing backpacks and sandals in the snow and Google Goggles.

* if The Wild Thornberrys were on adult swim

* the whole Five Nights at Freddy's thing passed me by...

* the UR looks like an ass

* you're the only one. you're not real. you're a robot. but you're at a Mel's Diner. i hope you like tofuburgers.

* this'll just hurt for a moment...

* if you're ever confronted with a button that says END SIMULATION, don't push it. it's tempting but don't.

* at least there's air conditioning.

* in the future, all the pizza cutters will be sex toys...

* whenever i see those neti pots i just want to make tea.

* nothing, and I mean NOTHING, beats '70s Doctor Who.


happy weekend, my babies. do your Christmas shopping tonight. your 2018 Christmas shopping.

Wednesday, November 29, 2017


Kelechi is mesmerized. she picks up the Sword of Saad. her arms are burning with yellow fire but her cells are already dead so she doesn't feel anything anymore. she takes the point of the sword and fits it into the keyhole of the locked trunk of Mr. Maldark's car. perfect match. inside is his manifesto and a large collection of driver's permits and tests taken by him and scored 100 and land deal deeds and replacement licenses and stamped algebra homework and FBI files on FBI members and a hobbit stick and everything that could ever help his students, all signed by Maldark who forged the signatures of each of his class.

Kelechi: that man was class. gather round, young and old and god alike.

the students form a circle and sit down outside. Kelechi reads Maldark's final note the best she can, many scribbles fitted into two sides of one sheet of paper.

Kelechi: basically what Mr. Maldark was getting at was he thought all of the world's problems stemmed from everyone driving. cars are tools of destruction. he thought the only way to bring all the people together verily once and for all was for us to ditch our cars and start walking again, everywhere, hand in hand. it would create long conversations again. we would have to rely on strangers again to see us through our journeys. stop in a weird house and rest your head on a sawdust pillow. soothe your aching feet in a swamp. be in favor of furloughs. close all the grocery stores and bring back the barter system. he does not address the problem of milk. social media has destroyed society, we've forgotten how to talk in favor of typeface. we swim in scandal, not speech. that is what will bring the environment back. even Ron. he proposes the construction of a permanent pedestrian mall, despite recent events. repave over all the streets and replant all the roads. then the middle section gets a bit rambly and dicey and crazy i won't bore you with the details. he finishes strong with this final note:

my people, I hope where you're going, there are never roads...


Kelechi puts down the note and climbs into the backseat of the Pinto crackling with yellow electricity. it flies in a split second to Myanmar, flapping its gullwing doors. Codrus is still laughing and doesn't notice the Saad.

at Myanmar, the Pope is visiting for the first time.

the Pope: Rohingya. there, i said it.

the Pope plants a filthily wet passionate kiss on Kelechi's lips.

the Pope: was that inappropriate?

Kelechi: *stunned* yes. but you are the Pope.

Lawrence O'Donnell is there, too, working on desks for young girl students.


Pope: need a few more bent nails. we all fall short of the glory. and a saw that sings. why are you here?

Kelechi: to take us all back to Burma...


at the studio, Brian Williams is on-air with shades on and is air-drumming to his own show's theme.

Brian: is there anyone left to do the news? can i do the drums for real one time? producer? forget it, you have to be drunk to play drums. dammit where's Matt? he said he'd join me for a drink after work. that's not cool to ditch me like that. where's Lawrence? our first guest is, wow, President Bump. well sorta.

President Bump is a hologram now.

Bump: yeah give it a rest, Tom! whoa, what happened to me? i'm transitioning. where are the bubbly British babes from the BBC? don't tell them i'm blue.

Black Widow stains a towel with red brine and tips it onto a long spear. she then sops Bump's mouth with the substance.

Bump: what is this, wine?

Black Widow: cranberry sauce. as you can see, you're on a cross lying flat on the ground. you cannot rise.

Brian: here they are! we share a desk. no buttons. well i'm quitting. no one fun is here anymore. i always wanted to be a drummer in a band. my college had one band. Project Veritas will allow me to be anything i want to be, that's what they told me.

Rajini: Murder on the Mere! film at 11. or on your whatever anytime. would you like some cream tea, Mr. Bump?

Bump: that is one kinky drink. better not in this climate. you are so beautiful.

Rajini: that is a fact. we all know this. let's move on.

Bump: what are you wearing on your lapel there? that pin? it is so beautiful. it's an apple. Apple has taken over the world. my favorite apple is the crabapple. i love sowing Malus. i first grabbed her from behind a tree. the blonde girl.

Rajini: it is the Poppy. from the War.

Bump: you can call me that.

Rajini: anything else i can do for you this final evening?

Bump: now that you mention it: a blue squall parka, one of those Tempur Cloud pillows, Dametra, Pretzelmaker, Pretzel Time will do, some Nueske's Pork, and a red-wine smile on your face.

Rajini: Joker smile?

Bump: hey the French call you guys rosbif as a joke.

Rajini: never discuss roast beef with a woman.

Bump: my cook went AWOL.


the words of Maldark's final will and testament were lost to time. nobody remembered what was his important final document on this earth. just the general sentiment of it. the students went their separate ways, not merrily. everyone took a moment out of their busy schedules to think back on what Mr. Maldark meant to their moving forward. they each took a step back.

Less works for Autoglym valeting cars. he's starting to get into the program Top Gear.

Less: i'm not into cars, but i can see that if i were into cars this show would be my orgasm. i'd watch repeats when the new ones weren't on. the grand tour will be the last tour. i would watch this, nothing else, no game shows or nothing, any hour i wasn't sleeping. they picked the three best hosts for the job. perfect fit. self-effacing Brits are the best.

Deen grew tired of surfing and instead drained all the water in all the oceans to use for water gas. he took over as the de facto owner of the Papa John franchise and bulldozered every last Papa chain store on the planet. retired early off the water gas. he now makes pizza in his kitchen and just recently became a father.

Intendo became President of SEGA cos he realized that it wasn't the distractions from his job, his job was distractions. most of his sales come from Less.

Eli Manning plays for the New York Giants.

Maldark's home location is now a patch of California wildflowers cropped up which grew to such a powerful Super Bloom that it could be seen from outer space.

Halwa calculated the safest distance a pedestrian could walk without getting hit by a car, especially one which sped up suddenly, from the grocery store to the mall. turns out it was the same all around the world.

Mr. Maldark hugs Halwa.


Comey: Ashley cracked the case! you two bumbling idiots could have never accomplished what only Ashley could.

Mueller: hey! i resemble that remark. it's not about achievement, it's about getting the job done. i tried to be spicier but you can only work with what you've got.

the tiny guy raises his arms, which no one can see. the spotlight trains on him and almost burns the poor mini-man to death.

Steele: i am Christopher Steele.

no one in the circus knows who that is.

Ashley: my son! sorry, it's become a reflex at this pont.

Steele: the famed spy?

Comey: that would be me.

Mueller: we had a backup plan y'know. if all else failed we would have disguised Chris here as a bowling pin and joined the circus bowling team.

Comey: they discontinued that act last Wednesday. turns out none of the clowns were good athletes. that's why they were clowns and not acrobats.

Mueller: we got Pitino, so.................i'm ready for a drink.

Ashley: not so fast, buddy, you're driving. you promsied me a ride.

Mueller slunks in his grey blazer.

he takes the couple and his faux son up the woods to the midland meadows of a quaint little aqua-walled lean-to overlooking the onlook overlap of crimson trees and buried apples by the millpond. there, the water is black and the wheels are turning.

Ashley: we're not so green anymore. but we stll try to harmonize our living space with nature. borrowed scenery.

Comey: i know. i live here.

Comey rings the bells. on the floor of the porch.

a woman slides her eyes in the mail slot.

woman: password.

Comey touches his penis.

they enter.

Comey: no, i only did that cos my dick is still sore. meant no offense. reflex. the password is 720.

Comey's wife outstretches her hand.

wife: Jim was always a failed skateboarder.

Comey: still pouring water at the lodge?

Mueller: let's all have a seat on the sofa. Chris can serve as the seatcushion.

Ashley kisses her wife on the mouth.

Ashley: i conducted an undercover sting on you, Jim. for that i am not sorry. within this current climate it was my only recourse. no affair is current. we women won't take it anymore. you were cheating on this poor woman with me so i went covert to see who she was and in the process of interviewing her and gathering dirt on you in case you ever triplecrossed me i fell in love with this noble sweet lady of a past age. and for that i am sorry. between Virginia wheat and afternoon tea i fell in love with her love for you.

Comey: did you wear a wire in your blouse everytime we made love? cos i'd like to buy those tapes off you for posterity. and your posterior.

Comey: wait a minute, you long-conned me? me? the ultimate spy? America's first spy?

Ashley: journalism needs to be painstakingly thorough these days. purposeful journalism. painful journalism. i got tripped up on her downhome charm and farm witticisms i could never understand. but you know me, i researched it and i have a solution.

Comey: i can't believe i didn't see it before. you wore all those ties to the roller derby. what color are your eyes, Ashley? brown or blue?

Ashley: it doesn't matter, just kiss me, you fool. my face is not as fresh anymore.

Ashley kisses Comey and sits inbetween him and his wife on the couch.

Ashley: i'll marry you and your wife! it could work. throughout the course of this caper i stopped hating you, Comeycakes. i really am in love with you. and your wife what's your name again? it doesn't matter. i just can't decide between the two of you, it's a tie.

Comey: who gets the ring?

Ashley: me. all three of 'em. we shall live in wedded bliss. the three of us under one rustic roof. my prairie-home companions. it's just i don't want any secrets among us anymore, you know? let's do all our cheating out in the open.

Comey: is this legal in our state?

Ashley: Washington's not a state.


Lourdes Figueroa comes in to work the next morning in a red wig and doesn't show her butt once while reciting the temps. the climate has changed.


back at the house, Maldark does not pick up one thing. he sees the garbagemen milling about the hole that is his domicile.

Maldark: you were once garbage men. now you are trashmen. i proudly missed you on Black Friday for Friday pickup.

the men: yeah we figured the Black Friday insanity would clog the roads and our big trucks could never get through. so we came on Saturday. except we didn't. we're officially on strike. we don't pick up trash anymore.

Maldark: so you're quitting your jobs at the FBI?

the men: yeah we want to become surfers. nice tennis shoes.

Maldark: just pick up my trash, aye?

Maldark waits for them to circle out of it and slides up the flagpole at the front of his home. except it is not a flagpole. it is a stick of truth. it is the Sword of Saad, blended perfectly with its surroundings. it glows fiercely upon contact with Maldark's skin. a yellow as starry as the sunniest star. he affixes the Sword under the axel of the DeLorean and flames it to the starting line. the Bentley Azure has joined the proceedings. Maldark finished the race the moment he touched the Sword. the speed of light is now new and incalculable and infinitesimal.

the class race to hug their teacher.

Kelechi: what did you do?

Maldark: oh added some cherries. when everycar else was turning their horns into klaxons which only spouted that song about the racist cockroach who ate ice cream, my horn played Mozart's Turkish March. and other stuff. music is my fuel.

the driver of the Bentley Azure brungles out and removes his motorcycle mask. his footsteps are doom. it is the mind-trembling facade of Codrus.

Codrus: got you. i knew you'd crawl out of your hole eventually. i have a sixth sensor about these things. you couldn't bear to let your class or the facility faculty bear witness to the awesome power of the Stones. that Sword is mine!!!

Mr. Maldark runs. he runs and runs and runs. past the Los Angeles Gate and around the entire globe to the Peking Bridge and the orange-heart buoy which divides us all. he runs so fast and out of frame the picture has a hard time catching up. he uncorks cloverleaf highways and turns dirt roads gold. he takes a moment for a special step from the top of the chainlinked edge of the school proper to the outside street property, a culvert now dry with vegetation that is a tricky jump to land. after all his running in the opposite direction he takes one last leap to the finish line and runs right into Codrus's arms back at the school.

Codrus laughs one short ugly laugh and smiles with a sniggering slimeation. he is a normal-sized person but appears to have a humongous head that is the image of a vision. he takes the flag which flew courageously and hesitatingly atop Maldark's roof and burns it openly on the school grounds with a snap.

Codrus: how does it feel, Maldark? to see the flag burning.

Maldark: it is my flag. i completed it. i sang the entire Anthem on the way over here. in my head.

the Sword drops from Maldark's hands onto the pavement.

Mr. Maldark disappears.


Kelechi: Mr. Maldark, what are you doing?

Mr. Maldark is sitting in a pool of his own soda. lines upon lines of crushed cans of Mojave Rattler encircle his head on the floor.

Maldark: i am drunk but clear-eyed. i know what i must do. i have been preparing for this all my life. it feels good to have purpose. we all end, it's good to end on your own terms. if i cannot eat i will drink.

Kelechi: oh Mr. Maldark, i hate to see you like this. what would the kids say?

Maldark: it's fine it's just my bladder is a little full. this is all false energy, i know from whence the real power flows. i'll be sure to use my two toilets before we leave.

Kelechi: do you have any advice for me? my time is up.

Mr. Maldark yanks the Power Balance watch from his wrist and hands it to Kelechi.

Kelechi: how will you check the scores?

Mr. Maldark points to his head.

Maldark: with this bracelet i thee wed. please crush this Power Bracelet under your mighty hand Link-style. you don't need tech, no one does. you'll be fine. believe in me if you don't believe me.

a horrible hiss comes from behind the finished fence.

Maldark's two purple lynx cats each stretch as far as their slender bodies will take them, forming into two Cs of fur.

Maldark opens the latch on the gate. the crying cat is wary at first but notices the C-stretch surrendering cats on the ground and sniffs their whiskers using his whiskers. he leaps over them to any apparent food. Maldark has laid out a bowl of cat pellets and a bowl of wood litter, each glinting from the two silvery moons.

Maldark: don't confuse the two now. i better show him, teachers are examples, not explainers.

Maldark gets on all fours and begins eating the food with his mouth.

Maldark: this is yummy. i've decided. i can live off cat food. i'll shop every MONTH now! o the money i shall save!

Kelechi gives him the Kelechi look.


at the track the second race is heating up. it's Kelechi in the modified DeLorean vs. a zamboni. there was a third contestant, a litter, the vehicle that's called a litter. but the sign said NO LITTERING.

Kelechi starts off quick as she always does but quickly slides back to the pack, which is only the one other. the zamboni catches a wave and inches ahead, then begins shooting out orange cones from its rear bumper so any smoothness of the road it causes does not benefit Kelechi from behind. and to top it all off the rain continues just to spritz, never form outright, so ice forms instead of snow. it's a slick raceway instead of the thing being postponed for a snow day. Kelechi loses it by a nose.

Kelechi: *huffing* i'm so sorry, Mr. Maldark, i let you all down.

Maldark: cry not, child. your water will just evaporate. why are you huffing? is the car okay?

Kelechi: the cam engine's shot.

Intendo: and so are your hopes and dreams. i draw no pleasure from this, cos i can't draw. shame. i was looking forward, really wanted to see you in inaction, Maldark. fight for your love.

Maldark calls out across the way to the rich university on Elm with his indoor classroom voice.

Maldark: what do you say? two out of three?

Intendo: we already have two. you didn't major in math.

Maldark: are you scared? are you chicken?

Intendo: no but i could go for some fried chicken right about now. from now on i'll only eat food on sticks.

Maldark: if i can break the time record, the school keeps the money. i don't care about my house.

Less: you can live with me.

the universities, which are all now simply arms of the Government, are interested in Maldark's offer. information is power. especially when he convinces them that by "time record" he meant setting a new record for the speed of light.


Ashley Parker uses her catlike reflexes to slide against the tent sides of the circus until she spots her prey, the keys which dropped out of the backpocket of Intendo when he rose his head to glare at the spotlit fucking taking place on the tightrope wire.

Ashley: got 'em! now for the combination.

she slinks to the back office, strangely located at the front, and jimmies the key in. with a little jiggle from her fingertip and her boob, it locks into place. she types in the code on the databank with her newly-varnished nails like she was an '80s heroine using a payphone.

Ashley: 7-2-0. yes!!!

Comey is still balancing letting his penis rest and relocate.

Comey: or it might have been 730. i crunched it before.

Ashley looks confused.

inside this office is a whole lot of nothing. it is so antiseptic not a drop of dust collects on the stark sterile steel folder encased in manila sleeping in the center of the room.

Ashley: oh i get it. the room itself was the vault.

the dossier is just as the world had suspected. it contains embarrassing revelations about the Bump family that he was mortified would ever get out. apparently Bump's ancestors come from a long line of clowns. performers who wore white paint and made fools of themselves in front of Roman god-emperors.

Mueller and Chris Steele arrive just in time. late.

Monday, November 27, 2017


1. why should you have sex on a first date? cos she won't have sex with you once she gets to know you.
2. why do you dislike giving oral sex? who says? i love it like Tony Soprano loves it God rest his soul *sign of the cross*. cumming in her mouth is my greatest pleasure, so her cumming in my mouth is only fair in love and war. i love tasting that Trader Joe's Green Plant green food juice blend fruit juice with all those exotic herbs she waterfalls into me. when the spinach hits the back of your throat, there's nothing spicier, not even life itself. i feel so pure and organic. "plant juice" is our safe word.
3. tongue or no tongue? explain. no tongue with a twist. industrial accident. Kiss was performing at the site of the industry. Gene Simmons felt bad for me and gave me a big-kiss swirlie down my throat. it was like magic whenever those guys performed. JUST THEN my tongue SUDDENLY grew three sizes that day! it was two sizes too small.
4. would you have a sugar daddy or sugar mama? can't. too sugary. i can't eat candy ever since my know now that i take a hard unvarnished stock of my life, i realize all of my girlfriends have been sugar mamas...
5. what's a sure sign that you need to get laid? i've been having bonechilling nightmares lately. sex is my only comfort. i wake up in a pool of lukewarm sweat. i barely escape these dusty dreams. i have to yowl and yell and yelp my head off just to switch to the living world like a hard reset. i look at my watch on the dresser next to the dollar bill and check the scores and yelp reviews. i am so cold in the sheets. of course this could have to do with the fact that i don't wear clothes anymore.

bonus: right this very second, which do you prefer---to make love or to fuck like a wild animal? CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK