Wednesday, December 12, 2018


Dirg: ready?

Stan Lee: i was deathed ready. i will die ready.

Dirg: delay be not proud. just follow my lead. my instructions are can't-miss.

he leads the old codger up from his forelimbs and onto the peeling walls of his dank dark mansion, this man lit with the watercolor eyes of an old man who had lived too long to see the good world he had built sour.

Dirg: you're doing it, massa!

Stan's both hands and feet stick to the walls with no help. he looks and feels a little funny at first, but Stan's excitement overrides his sense and he begins to maneuver the sideway lanes of the wallpaper, he is really doing it, he is carving a new ancient aquarelle avenue! he's floating on air! well, sticking. he is moving like Spider-Man, he can stick to sides and enable around edges and his reach exceeds his grasp for the egress now is unlimited and as high as a skyscraper. he is a parkourist without a parka or mountain climbing boots with spikes and his only poles are his legs whittled to nothing in his old age. a trickle starts from the cocktail onion of his eye and begins to damp the carpets. Dirg tries not to see cos he wants to be strong in these trying situations and seeing his mentor cry will turn him into a mentee manatee.

Stan Lee: kindness. i'll never have to jump again.

Dirg: don't get all Doctor Who on me, old timer. that's later.

Stan Lee: no, kindness. remember: kindness. but for you, it was kidness.

Dirg: *non-awkward pause* so do you want me to continue? with the lessons. you want me to film practice?

Stan: i feel like an athlete who can throw around dollars! i never played football. i would have gotten killed.

Dirg begins uploading the practices online to the official university website. it grows such an audience in four minutes and there is such demand for more in the subreddits even though they are only words the comments peal with loud doombell sounds in Dirg's ears. like wedding bells but funeral bells. he gives in not cos he ever wanted to be popular but because he wanted to be left off the hook.

Dirg: does this clear me? am i out of my contract?

Stan: you always were. college shouldn't be a prison. a box of section comments. but i hope we continue. outside of school. i want to date you, let's see each other out of the classroom. do you feel accepted again? that's not the same as validation, only i can validate you.

Dirg: well followers are fickle but i am relieved i have full access to the Marvel youtube comments again, i do my best work there, i really feel i'm contributing to society molding those maggot minds over there.

the first practice is livecasted at 3PM on a lazy Wednesday afternoon before Finals and all the park benches roll their peels back up like fruit rollups. it gets so many views and hits the internet breaks and shuts down cos everybody and everypony are literally hitting their computer screens! Dirg goes without dinner chewing two slices of gum instead preparing the next broadcast.

Dirg: the first broadcast was you, Stan, moving around the walls of your mansion, not venturing outside though all the bay windows have no glass, teasing like a good broadcaster and moral host and thumbing around the edges and proving the impossible true, especially to your young viewers. you even added a tag where you gave some nice anodyne biblical good-natured cheer advice for the holidays and a hot-cocoa powder mix packet recipe to end the video. you say add a strawberry in your hot chocolate for Spider-Man. it got a million views but more importantly it broke the million-comment barrier for a single youtube vid. we beat that puerile and prurient punk princess PewDiePie. he's not a cutie-pie and should eat a non-woman pie and die, whoa i just got that. i know i'm jealous, he films his sex scenes on Swedish-craftsmanship kitchen tables with his girlfriend that week like it was some ordinary porn to stream to his kid fans. in the second vid, i had you spider on the ceiling of the mansion, you even had requests from female fans wanting you to negotiate the chandelier and possibly ride it upside-down. that vid got a billion views and a billion comments, extending our Guinness record. Guinness is still a non-beer thing? i thought all colleges now invest in near-beer to avoid lawsuits. what could we possibly do for the finale that would top it off?

Stan: it's not about getting bigger and bigger, son, it's about getting smaller and smaller. limit your orbit to goodness, not popularity, but i think i am really for the fall. for the plunge. i'm gonna venture outside like a good little Venture Brother. take my chances as the cast of the wind, @ the wind! caveat emptor! *quietly* i mean excelsior *raised white-hair fist*

Dirg: okay wait i dunno we're moving too fast. i don't think a trillion is possible on this planet, not enough folk on this earth. i mean if you really want to the potion will hold i mean your spirit will hold. you onto the ceiling. you want to go outside? and do what?

Stan: just feel my bare knees against the brick laying of the outside mansional walls. wave hello to the beautiful humanity stationed outside waving at me. i want to wave back and smile.

Dirg: your smile will fill every kid's balloon with warm air. eh, as long as we're not handwaving this thing. it will be a spectacle of spirituality. it will be lovely......okay, do it, just be careful. don't wear shoes, it heavies you down. i won't be around, i've got errands and stuff. i'll set up the camera from my drone on a pod outside sticking to the smokestack of the roof, that should capture all your motions. see ya see ya wouldn't wanna be ya! peace and kisses.

the two meet at Good Times at Davey Wayne's on campus. the bros and the crones. yellow exterior, looks like a peeling wooden surf shack with no nails from the '70s. the interior of the club an exact representation of the brothers' dad's shaggy-carpet living room and fuzzy furniture and glass ornaments from the swingin' married family man's bachelor pad. and nachos.

Dirg: cool place. very indie L.A. club vibes look. quick scan of the menu and i'll have the hallacas. and agave lemonade? cauliflower pizza? okay, whatevs as you guys say.

Individual Brother #1: us Asians?

Dirg: no you cool guys who get all the chicks. you young entrepreneurs who get to own a club right out of college. heeeeeey, now i get it!!! you guys are the REAL crazy rich fresh Asians!

Individual Brother #2, who's a twin: funny you should say that. L.A. the two Coasts are the same, we borrow from them. we use only the freshest ingredients, daily catch.

Dirg: i like the ceramic dog, replica of someone special? i'm in a rush, go.

Laertus: i was just thinking of how the neighborhood used to be. remember before the endless construction? you had Do Re Mi Music on the flip corner, which is gone now. where am i gonna get all my Smashing Pumpkins and NIN albums now? those are the only two albums i actually buy as a material now, for the booklet cover art. the rest of the bands i stream free.

Diorg: hear ya. yeah, all the old pizza places are gone. Pizza Factory. why do stores close when the construction hits, isn't that a bit counterintuitive? are you noticing less traffic? these new lanes are supposed to help with bikes.

Doryce: speaking of, we're here, too, and want some service form those two handsome brothers. take your shirts off like in the old days in sunny L.A.! ooooh pizza, i am so horny for pizza. pizza is like horny food for females.

Gladyce: dear these will tide you over. get it? it's a new box i got at The Store.

Doryce: oh these are heavenly! Cheezit New Flavor. Cheezit that are cheese-pizza-flavored! these are the greatest squares i've ever eaten. and i've eaten my share of squares in my long short life. i've already eaten the whole box. and i'm still horny!

Gladyce: i got something we can order only here. it's gonna be delicious and delightful and surprising and you're gonna think why didn't they think of this before? from the Orient after all.

Dirg: the traditions are fading and no one cares. you're gonna miss them when they're gone. Subway Meatball Subs using garlic bread for the bread. Holiday Pie from McDonald's. you know i remember when my dad took me to Do Re Mi to get my first Rush record, our first, well his first, it was gonna be a bonding moment because the Rush record was so long we had to have a conversation to fill the time of the awkward silence. tht's all i remember, i blacked out, or the music did, i don't want to remember it anymore, he was trying to go over all the cryptic symbols and D&D monsters used in the lyrics but they weren't as cool coming form him, you know how kids are. anyway i just remember the white Pinto drive over to the Do Re Mi when they still had that cul-de-sac where you could hang your Pinto pistols kept on display in full view in the backseat visible from the small circle window back there. hey you getting on okay without your computer? i have to use it for very important matters.

Laertus: no worries. i'm using the ones in the computer lab. i go at night so i won't get spotted. i'm using my new friend's computer over there.

Dirg: oooooh, i must meet her if she exists someday. sucks now. whenever i try to reboot the movie again the hot illegal-bride bridey Russian lady with the ass the size of a Russian count's dining longtable no longer appears, it's just some chick from BeenVerified giving the intro that is always in mute.

Laertus: exists.

Dirg: *touches his shoulder then his own shoulder* gotta go pal, drinks on the house and i am the house, i'm practically a doctor now, i can pay for things, anything, i'm suddenly youtube-rich!

Madame Pons: you seem groggy, you okay? there's no more left, you used it up in one sitting. or standing. on a ceiling.

Dirg: i was practically on drugs when i started out. i had to get the hang of it myself. i was climbing the ceilings and bouncing off the walls trying to figure it out. literally. at night cos he slept during the day. it's okay, i can handle it, my head has always been airy.

Madame Pons: you still have the vaginal egg inside you?

Dirg: this whole time. i'm juggling a lot of balls but that one has remained firm in my body. i'm clenching it like a vise with just the one string of my cockhole. the X of a normal glans to pee has been opened into the gaping maw of a cuttlefish. forget it, screw it, i don't need to pee. i don't drink, this is how i really am.

Madame: i can tell. i can see your aura in front of you even if you can't. you're feeling feelings more. deeper. it's time you confessed. you did nothing wrong. i know i'm not your only friend. or even one. you have a better one. a longer one.

Dirg: best. advice. ever. okay, i know, i'll do it. if Stan can Man can. i'll do it later tonight when it's quiet at out cabin in the woods.

Madame: when you finally confide, the weight of hate is lifted into a stream. you find yourself with fins talking again, and writing. it's your best work cos it flows out of you. inspiration doesn't know which term it is. and plus, you shoulder the burden of responsibility onto another person who now shares your pain, it's kinda fun that way, gives them the responsibility.

Dirg: passing it off on someone else, like a blunt circle. taking no responsibility for one's actions, i like it. hey it's not my fault, right? laters, therapy toots.

Dirg: can we make the call from here?

Laertus: sure, it's all normal now.

Eye Luggage: go. Doctor Who finale.

Dirg: underwhelming. next series get rid of Yaz, she's worthless.

Laertus: you are too cruel for school.

Dirg: then when Team Fam is wondering why Yaz has suddenly disappeared from their close tightknit group, Jodie will clamly explain that Yaz has became her own grandmother from the Punjab episode.

Eye: no Family Guy Christmas special this year, bummer. tribute to Carrie made up for it. i've since learned to fish. you know eventually all my sisters with the purple lightsabers raised and the Princess Leia RESIST signs will become in reality the Resistance to what's happening in reality. it will no longer be a film with blue in it, it'll be a blueprint. okay, fam, i'm off next week, the pod will be cast in cooling blue. the relatives and descendants are descending on town, which means i need to come as soon as possible and leave...

President Bump is in a smock, painting away in the Cream House Green Wing. he is so splotched with the rainbow of caterpillar colors a mustache of paint forms below his nose.

Katy Tur: sir, i don't know what to make of these baby clothes you gave me. i didn't invite you to the baby shower.

Bump: thought it was another kind of shower. what, they say BANANA REUBLIC STUFF, i thought it was cute, love that brand of clothing. Secret Service while shopping at a Baby Gap alone was a logistical nightmare. surfer, right?

Katy: at this point i would have rather one of your paintings, even if it's a dark Gumball painting. you might surprise and bush us.

Bump: i'd wear a beret but my hair......hey what happened to Robin Meade on HLN!? she's not there anymore! replaced by two chicks who wore the same red dress that one day, that was hilarious! she was an HLN Deal! what's up with Cohen? he looks so sad. he looks exactly like if the Sopranos were a real thing. very smart, bringing in his family like that for the first time at his sad-sack sentencing. that's very mob and mob-moll. hot daughter with the fur Tiny Tim crutch to influence the judge. how are you holding up, Theresa May?

Theresa May: literally not well. i'll put it to you this way: before Brexit, i didn't have a hump in my back. the MPs are snickering behind my humped back and coyly calling me Esmeralda.

Bump: i wish you were Nancy Pelosi, you're a nice woman, she is very nasty.

Pelosi: sir, stop mansplaining everything, i'm a crone, i've been around the block.

Bump spreads his legs more open on the sofa in the meeting. Pence has a glazed look in his eyes on the loveseat.

Pence: sorry, i didn't read my lines for today, the script changed. i'm like DeNiro, i can't do impromptu live tv, i need a lot of preparation.

Chuck Schumer: H is for hell. the trick is to look directly at the camera.

Amy Motta: hello everyone! i am welcome at the Red Table!

Aisha Moodie-Mills: bitch whatcha doin' here? just cos you're an A like me? the only think you're known for is that insanely freaky and scary white smile of yours! what else do you do? you're just teeth. eat yo applesauce bitch!

Stephen A Smith: *making the eating-with-a-spoon motion* okay, i'm not panciked yet. the Cowboys are in the Super Bowl. but there's still a chance for them to lose EVERYTHING.

Laertus: yeah, pass me the blunt...

Stephen A Smith: you smoke?

Laertus: when i see red. i want to live in a world that is justified for Julia Ioffe to exist peacefully and sexily with her puns. and to coexist with symbols on a T shirt. i am attracted to Maureen Dowd's frog mouth and weird middle-class accent and movie quotes and screwball comedy and reportette repartee. is Paganism our post-Christian future? Maureen is the sexiest dowdy person i know. you know she's a pistol in bed with her wit and bleeding charm. when everyone likes something, there must be something wrong with it. i want to travel the world and stop and stay in India and experience that fascinatingly insular exciting Indian cricket culture that is like Bollywood for sports, that stays secret to their sky, bright lights hidden by the city. that whole inroad where all the cricket stars marry Bollywood actresses and have babies who become cricket gardeners. i want to report on cricket like that English actor. the real cricket played in India. i want to be well-rounded and an all-rounder. i don't want to strike-rate out with the right person. that is the fame of family.

Bump: going to a Scientology Clearing. thank you, next. hello? Piers? who should be my Chief of Staff?

Piers Morgan: i really think it should be Ariana Grande. yeah, she has the ear of the public and she pulses when she dances. tremendous sway on that one, she really knows what they want and are after. the new voters, the young voters. she's so old she won't turn down the job. i can already see her plastic-surgery lines under my hot lights.

Mueller: i thought that was me. *Mueller kisses Comey on the lips* this is the ultimate Resistance. to Russia. btw, never noticed Ashley Parker's huge tits before till i saw that Washington Post article where the three all lined up as phalanx warriors for that The Front Lines press-pool feature. she always wore a parka with me.

Bump: you two disgust me! take that stuff to a college campus!

Comey: oooh, a new technique you learned from Melbourne? you're helping me get over, get off, get through, and get a divorce tattoo. Ash to ash. and that ass. when are you gonna finally invite me to dinner, Bob? i heard you got a mansion...

Mueller: you're not treating my star witness too roughly, right, Mick? no paddywagon pummels?

Bump: Butina? don't yous worry, she's not being tortured, she's just really into BDSM. pommel horse is a different thing in her country. we even took her blindfold off so she could see the Geminid Shower. again, different shower.

there's a rumbling at Davey Wayne's. like an earthquake that lasts forever. the roof starts to shake. the neon arrows which normally point to Live Nudes have been replaced with a neon sign, and one part of that sign crashes to the ground below in calm palm palmetto bushes. the graffiti which remains under the piece of sign reads:


the crones and bros and Reds all look up from their coffees.

Doryce: what happened? something happened.

Dirg races back home. then he gets a running start. then he hits the ground running.

and he finds Stan Lee has died. or is in the process of dying, Stan has fallen off the roof on the outside-bricklayed layer of the Mansion and he plunged into the green recycling bin. he lays. still. still quivering. Stan's head is no more, there is only his heart. Stan's placid face is now all smiles and is ready to give his last column of advice, cos he never considerd his Last Words. he always thought of others, not the finality of himself. when you help, you extend yourself. he pulls a gaped Dirg in close with his sweater hand and hugs him to get close to Dirg's ear. meanwhile the spectators assembled are horrified, they saw this live! and in the livestream! in real time! they are hopping mad, they jump up and down and throw soy bombs in Dirg's face. then they storm the purple chainlink fence made of stone paper rings, pouring soy sauce all over Dirg's face and body so he is an unrecognizable venom monster.

mob-rule crowd audience: YOU ANIMAL! TAKE HIM OUT OF THE TRASH!!!

Stan Lee doesn't want to be helped out of anything. he kisses Dirg's ear.

words of wisdom are to be whispered.

Monday, December 10, 2018


i've appreciated the Stones more now that i'm an old man. always thought they were just Beatles wannabes.

The Beatles=Nirvana
the Rolling Stones=Pearl Jam
the Who=Soundgarden
Nirvana the British '60s band=Alice In Chains

shit, even that is a generation removed. i am not a millennial...

1. which do you make more of, phone calls or text messages? i only have one phone in the house, a telephone magneto. i was into X-Men long before anyone watched the '90s cartoon, before all'y'all. have you ever tried to sext on a rotary phone call? it's like Scott Van Pelt stuff cept i don't get paid handsomely to sit behind a handsome desk and be handsome and talk sports all day and throw in an Aqua Teen reference now and then. how much analysis does sports need? Tiger Woods is jealous of Scott cos Tiger can't pull off the bald look as Tiger gets older. Tiger actually requires glasses but he lasered them cos the nerd image wouldn't have been good for Tiger's image. he wants people to forget he went to Stanford.

2. before making a phone call do you rehearse what you are going to say? why? cos i want to be like that credit-card commercial. and cos i'm training to be an actor. that's the thing, never monologue out loud not in front of a mirror, people will think you're crazy. they'll think you're talking to yourself or to your imaginary friend or that you're a vampire, no one knows of the three which is worse. keep those strange thoughts which pass your stem like a night wind every so often to yourself in their root where they belong.

3. name three things you and your partner appear to have in common. eyes. ears. hair down there. oh wait, i forgot to put on my glasses…...nevermind, i'm a werewolf...

4. name three things about which you and your partner completely disagree and often causes disagreements. politics. religion. sex. i think Perot would have made a great president, i only adhere to religions with black in the title, and i only want to have sex in my furry suit. she thinks Perot was "running for President" just as a statement and never would have REALLY become President, hint hint, she thinks my religions are racist, and says sex in the furry suit damages the suit's value at auction. we love each other and agreed to be asexual magi together, that was festive.

5. 74% of new couples buy a new mattress when they begin their relationship. as you embark on a serious relationship would you require your SO to buy a new mattress or would you buy a new mattress if your SO asked you to?

can i disembark? the waters are getting choppy. i'll use our waterbed as my paddleboat canoe.

only if the mattress was blue, with fleurs-de-lis and was soaked......okay NOBODY got that reference unless you were reading my Instagram or here-blogged stories. i'll try another reference: only if it's in a long smoking pipe and PURPLE

or if it had a metal ribcage choking it and was a yellow non-stained mattress from a '70s motel and ate up all your elongated arcade tokens. magic fingers just means metal fingers, right, Logan (Wolverine)? he gives the best rolling backrubs.

bonus: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about your future would you want to know? never. no. never know. watch sc-fi. and fantasy. never find out you when you're going to die. or how. never uncover your final last age. that's wikipedia wicca stuff right there. crystals should only be used on your backbone. or to make dark Muppets with one magic stitch…



Friday, December 7, 2018



* this is probably not the best thing to watch around Christmastime...

* Hunky Boys Ding Ding, that's what i thought the title was...see i was okay believing they were hunks just thought they were too hungry for ding-ding dinner for their own good like a pavlovian COME AND GET IT bronzed triangular dinner bell with an aspergillum to shake it with.

* this looks like the spooky start of that other Cartoon Network show pilot that didn't get picked up...

* Emo Philips, more goth than emo. you can tell from the haircut he paints.

* the problem was the bent weathervane. that's what doctors always told me would cure my depression, i just had to have my jaw realigned.

* nobody appreciates the fine art of typewriting while in a biker gang, or writing whilst dipping one's quill pen into a chandelier. Liberace was liberated, o why can't i?

* i've never died before...i'll be sure to DM you the selfies i take...

* don't look at the cameras, ruins the illusion

* why is everyone in such a hurry to die? haven't you read Sagan's assistant's letters? you ain't gonna be seeing Grandma again. as for Grandma's pussy...

* oh, hydraulics…...thought you said Hydra Headed

* it's all fun n games till someone gets an eye poked a noose

* see this is the Looney Tunesization of death, making it all seem not so serious and camp and everyone comes back for the next cartoon

* Plympton it possible for a taxidermist not to be creepy?...they say what we're all looking for in a sexual mate is the opposite-sex version of ourself

* maybe we shouldn't have built this house on the foundation of a single rope.
God: no, that was brilliant, it forced you three magi to work together whether you hated each other or not. who says you die alone?

* this is no time to work out

* your eyes actually do bug out like that

* life

* remember the days when game shows weren't sinister?

* this game not an invitation for a four-square foursome

* Transylvania has the strictest gun laws on this side of earth for obvious reasons

* the tv studio is conveniently located next to our shack out in the middle of nowhere on a hill where it eternally rains and the lightning (like the stars) is so close you can touch it with your nose

* i'm a librarian and this blindfold was for our Fifty Shades In Fifty States promotional tour where we went around rest homes getting our senior citizens to read more.

* just looking for my true Sid

* Emo: this is the type of poetry only those with a high IQ would get. you know, like Rick and Morty viewers.

* if you take out all the philias and phobias, it really is quite the romantic love story

* we've been through this, Total Recall II would never work. don't you recall?

* that was sublime ventriloquism, even if the camera panned down

* think of me as Bart Simpson when he first burst onto the scene with that skateboard

* who is spraypainting all these Broadway backstages? Banksy?

* there is only Hologram Happiness

* love the lie...
God: this guy gets it.

* i have it on personal authoroity that Chaucer HATED the lute

* good seeing John Goodman getting work after Roseanne

* Chaucer actually came up with the phrase "what's your damage?" but no one noticed

* this is what youtube stage directors don't understand

* delayed reaction to the penis...

* so we needed Hitler to get Einstein? why is life so profoundly and prodigiously cruel?

* Bart: wait, is the man me or the woman me the real me?
God: both.

* it's a traditional Heathcliff Roger Rabbit candlelight dinner over a trashcan lid

* love hurts.
Bieber: i swatted you guys...for real.

* kissing yourself is like kissing your cousin. OH it's the Outkast Kiss where a kiss on the lips instantly makes the woman pregnant! i always loved that alternative take on life, nice and clean, fresh and clean even, less messy without all that sex messiness, very sci-fi fantasy human evolution.

* never trust a man with a potted plant as a hat.
Stevie Nicks: what can i say? i'm a gypsy, i need to be free.

* that saw makes me sad

* the lightning-round of every game show is rigged, you know that, right?

* fuck you maggot hearse Hava Nagila garam masal paint your wagon identical interests: i always trust the black guy in these situations

* Paint Your Wagon was when Clint Eastwood started to get angry...

* we're all God's doll parts, right, Courtney Love?

* woman: the devil tricked me! i had too much freedom! i choose the Pokémon Movie! but what if my brother is my soul mate? okay i'll go to Hell, but that humidity is gonna be hell on my already-frizzy hair.

* well at least we get to see three babes before our pants are pulled down to our humiliation.

* Jesus was lonely like the rest of us so he started a band...

* priest: it's not polygamy if it's sanctioned by the Catholic Church. marriage is a sin, i can say that as long as i keep this white collar on.

* we need our guns, we don't have drums…


happy weekend, my babies! this weekend we're a Bacon Maple Chicken sandwich family at Wendys. what's your favorite holiday sandwich?

Wednesday, December 5, 2018


the crones have spruced up quite nicely for their date. Gladyce has even put on a spruce tree as her dress. Doryce has gone the more traditional route wearing rainbow-striped anklesocks which stretch right into her cooch inside the folds. and a smoking tophat. she's obviously gonna be the one paying.

Doryce: i'll pay. no sudden moves or i'll know. it's a killer to walk in this but this is what i do for you for beauty. let's go, it's a walk in leaves wetted by freezing rain. it's been awhile since we've been back to the homefires, Obec is looking rainy and damp.

Gladyce: tis the season. i am so excited! i've never actually tasted lox before. i've seen bagels and lox since Night Court since forever everywhere on screen but this is my first time. i'm a bit scared, what is it exactly?

Doryce: i do all the fishing in this relationship, huh? it's like thinly-sliced veiny Heathcliff-fishboned barely-tasteable orange fish that won't scar you the way anchovies do with their pungency and eyes and paws. by night's end it will own the key to the lock of your heart. it looks like bacon but everything looks like bacon.

Doryce: huh, we're at the Bagel Bakery, it's a fancy restaurant, yet there is no line. i swing the door open like a swinger...

Euroclydon works here. her face is pale despite being dark and she wears her tangerine hair up in a high beehive to match the piles of food she serves on a silver tray. the mood is atmospheric with purple and blue dinner music being played surrounding-out the boarded-up Barded-up windows. the food is aligned in neat rows of wood for the public to pick at. overhead yellow lamps on swings heat the food and set the light mood to a dinner-light dim.

Doryce: wer're the Bagel Bakery Broads! oh my! you are one hot babe, dear!

Euroclydon: thank you. i'm getting used to blushing practicing for my wedding.

Doryce: do you mind if i turn you around, dear---watch the tray and your tray of tits---so i can get a gander at that insane ass you have tightly wound in jeans? i mean that thing is strings pulled up to perfection! your ass is bigger than your entire body yet smaller than your head, it's a miracle!

Euroclydon: not offended despite my cohort. i've been called worse here. it's nice to hear a compliment every once in a while even if it's couched in the old language. besides, you two are legends of the greatest generation we owe our freedom to you guys! i'm gonna blog this encounter when i get home.

Gladyce: oh you have a destination blog, too? you young people how you have to pay for college now, traveling from Puerto Rico. i'm guilty, too, but mine is murder. in order to publish a cogent post i have to skip lunch every Tuesday. yeah. bad for a batty like me but i'm sure your young butt bones can handle it, dear. you've got a figure to look after after all, it's good for you.

Doryce: don't explain, maintain. the old language? Euro? are you by chance from the Old Country!?

Euroclydon: everyone's from the old country. now what the hell do you want from me? sorry there's a lot of stress in the air like hay fever.

Doryce: *winking* gotcha, yeah it's true, it's like life was a certain way since the beginning of time and suddenly these last three years a blue-bolted swinging door came in and changed the fundamentals of how we walk on a street.

Euroclydon: what'll it be? i've lost my black pencil.

Euroclydon comes back and forth many times to that table offering many more views of the ass. for condiments and napkins and stuff. she returns with on her tray a huge long pile high up of their specialty.

Doryce: looks like a lot of hamburgers. they're halved but there's nothing in the buns, unlike you. oh no please, no more black dots on the bread i can't do that anymore, had that episode.

Euroclydon: all seven of these poppy bagels stacked high have a hidden compliment condiment in them, inside their buns, spread on in like butter, schmear. see i was called the Schmear Queer here for the longest.

Gladyce: kids are cruel. people are cruel. everypeople. luckily we're not most people. in fact we're not really people. in the classic sense, more the Classical sense. this is delightful dining, dear! thank you for all your hard work which goes unnoticed daily.

Euro: *smiling* thank you. my wedding will be a thumb-to-the-chin in these times. i wear my SJW as my badge of honor instead of my nameplate.

Doryce: well that's a lucky woman *lazy grin, tongue out* i smelt you a mile away, you were sisterhood from the start. good luck on your real destination. may the world bend to your love. in order to change the culture, you have to change the culture. and change it back. when it inevitably strays. that's your job on this planet, caretaker. take care.

Doryce: oh and for dessert on the way out the door, how about two well three of those green-tea boba shakes?

Euro: um those are actually drinks.

Doryce: *drinking* oh these little cute gummy roundabout brown balls, they look like my poo pellets back home in our home toilet......oh wow, how many of these boba things are here in this cup? i've already counted 100 bobas. there are fucking 1000 bobas in this damn cup! i can't eat them all, they're starting to replace the lining of my stomach they're too gummi! i think i'm gonna be sick, i'm gonna have to spew out the rest of the bobas like a Ms. Pac-man who realizes she's eaten too much for her frame! it's cool, right? you won't have to worry about us putting the bagels on our dicks and eating them that way taking each bite counter-clockwise and chewing.

Doryce: don't wash that floor for like an hour, like the bathroom. wait for it to spic then span. so was it good for you?

Gladyce: you paid the bill?

Doryce: sure i wrote something down. bagels and drinks all total came to 2 hundred bucks. the lox interestingly was not the most expensive, they catch 'em local. bread and water. but it was a steep price well-invested in order to eat well and to look well. as in looking at that ass the whole time was worth the money.

at the MSNBC Studios, Katy Tur is crying.

generic had-it black woman: i'm sorry for earlier at the vote booth, it's stressful down there. especially in Florida, you have to take your gun with you or you won't get registered. packing for progressives. can i make you some of my aunt's tater tots?

Katy: i'm crying cos i'm pregnant...

generic had-it black woman: oh no you dint! i thought that was your tit! i just thought your tit was that big and no wonder you were so popular!

Mueller: it's not mine, it's time. i don't have time for that, i'm standing up for the men and women of my FBI who do the work and get none of the glory on tv. they simply quietly go about their day doing their damn job, i'm proud of each and erry one'em! i mean can you imagine the stress of having to catch that crazed mailbomber BEFORE the fucking election!? i mean we couldn't catch him ON Election Day that would have been too suspicious for FOX. it's like suddenly our troops had this lifetime assignment they had to complete in a week! it's like studying the Bible and the Breaking Bad bible for a live televised debate that same Christmas Day wth Santa Claus himself Daniel Dennett. all of my men (and women) didn't have time to vote this cycle they were that busy. but we still won.

Katy: what's with all the black markings on your face, Bob? they look cute.

Mueller: this thing is far from over! hey ho tally ho mystery! i can do Skull and Bones, too. and keep digging for skullduggery. i've discovered my passion for art just as this thing was drawing to a close. i'd been writing discursively and typing fruitlessly for years but then i took out my black sharpie pen and started DRAWING! a whole new world opened up for me, i'm never gonna quit drawing!

Dirg: i know, right? the more you do it the better you get at it. the lines start to come naturally with erry stroke. shapes form. in your mind...

Bush 43: i started painting, that's how my drawing led me to salvation.

Chris Matthews: *interviewing Amy Klobuchar* you'd make a good President, run. more than anything else, not your mien or moxie or mothering, it's that you're hot. no i'm serious, now that i've got you up close and i get a good look at you under hot lights without your glasses on you are a fox! a real fox, not those FOX fakes. you come from the Genie Bouchard line of androids, right? i mean left. clobber 'em, Amy!

President Bump sits down at the pew and hands Michelle Obama a roll of stamps.

Bump: i'm giving these to you but you're gonna have to pay for them. they're fresh off the mint, no percentage price label on them yet. but they're legal.

Michelle really thinks about running at the moment of that handshake.

Bump: the only thing i remember about Bush 41 was the broccoli thing. if the President hates broccoli then i didn't have to eat any! oh and he was on SNL but so was i and i did it better and higher-ratingsier. i declared a Week of Mourning cos i just wanted a vacation from all this shit. plus it's raining. i just put it out there into the universe as we all do...

Laertus: sir you are a Squishy Wizard.

Dirg: stop trying to fit people into boxes with package labels to ship them off. enough with the lazy nerdoholic TVTropes, break free and through from tropes with TNT. or Trent Reznor's TVT label. if anything, our President is a black swan, there, that's more elegant, more ballet.

Bump: what is it with me and my administration and green vegetables? let's focus on the blue, i was looking at the map the other day and see all this blue everywhere all over the place and i'm like, so where's the global warming?

Laertus: sir that was the electoral map. the Denocrats took control back of the House. blue wave?

Bump: i catfished on that wave. looking for George Clooney. hoping our ally Japan would help us out with that wave, hoping it would wipe out Alaska so i wouldn't have to hear Palin's squawky voice on the phone again. Alaska is one of our trade partners, right? hoped it wasn't too big or bad so i wouldn't have to get out there in my surfer trunks for a photo-op with babes uh babies uh babies on boards. and did you see the strong calves on Gina this morning? she needs to workout those knees of hers to support her weight! her tit weight!

Laertus: sir, that wasn't a weather girl, that was Gina Haspil. maybe you should go to the hospital.

Bump: Erica Grow makes me grow.

Molly Qerim: back at First Take, how are you this fine morning, gentlemen? i'm happy cos Stephen A. is on remote location at some fleabag motel somewhere paid for by ESPN miles away from Bristol Connecticut, i got Max all to my lonesome self. everytime i look into his baby blues i am starstruck! you were in Creed II!

Stephen A. Smith: Molly the fleas are teaching me how to act. whenever i throw a brick at them, heehee.

Molly: you were born to act, Max! you were in Dirty Dancing my favorite movie of all time! i always wanted to do the Lift but i was always too ethnic for that, you know. us fatbottom girls.

Max: i'm not that Max Kellerman, though Jerry Orbach as you might suspect was a huge fight fan. he once boxed S. Epatha to a draw, she recounted as such at the Red Table. fat girls out there watching, just wait, you're young, eventually you'll grow into your body. all that fat will be transferred into your curves as an adult and you won't be able to fit into dresses, it'll be great!

Molly: you are so wise, Max. you came clean and talked about hitting your wife, that was so brave.

Max: i could cos there was no video of it. right, Bump? you bastard.

Bump: my sins?, just audio, no video. hello, Piers, my old friend, where the hell have you been?

Piers Morgan: you deported me back to Britain after Brexit, remember? left me on a lonely pier. the Plum Boys got scared of a foreigner on their soil broadcasting to Americans and flipped their shit and their Undercut wigs. i'm here with Ariana Grande...i've already won, debate over, my name's on the Twitter Trending. do you blame me? NOW snooty snark is acceptable, i'm just cashing in on my career.

Ariana: thank u, next. i don't remember you being this much of a wimpy wanker, you toned it down to honor Larry King which i watched with my Nan. didn't your mother ever...well ever? you watched Victorious? you better have a daughter. *smiles showing her sparklehorse gold teeth*

Piers: my mother taught me to seek truth and the falsehood of copy, not to speak it. you know, it was very surprising what happened after Victorious. the star of that show was supposed to hit it big, or even Liz Gilles in a Santa hat, but it turned out to be YOU. where is that Vega chick anyway now?

Ariana: MTV, the coffin of cuties.

Laertus: oh PLEASE let Liz Gillies and Matt Bennett be a thing! that would be a true babe-nerd pairing that would last! and a triumph for puppet freaks everywhere! Liz should do SNL.

Pete Davidson: what's the deal with getting breakup tattoos? what's the point of that? seems a bit counterintuitive. the love tattoo is cos you want to remember the person forever in permanent ink. why would you want a permanent reminder on your skin of a failure? a constant Memento you can't escape. your body is not allowing you to forget and move on.

Ariana: at least they weren't divorce tattoos.

Federer: speaking of SNL, i'm ready to do my podcast Detail now, my voice is relaxed and rested from the one-month offseason we get for opening Christmas presents. each year my wrapped Christmas packages are always in the shape of tennis racquets i can immediately tell what they are. racquets in not-so-good-shape. can't you tell how eased and easy my speaking voice is? and *push* the button with my ringed finger.

Chrissie Evert: like butta.

Federer: you're finally coming around. when it's just the two of us it's like a proper date. so how was your SNL experience?

Chrissie Evert: Dennis Perkins ranks me as one of the best sports hosts ever on SNL. after Joe Montana's masturbation nothing-in-his-head-but-echo-chamber skit. i had a Martina in mine and murdered Martina but it was all fun cos murder means nothing now. i wish the real Martina had been my scene partner but she wasn't cool enough yet then like she is now. i had just quit tennis then and really thought i was gonna be an actress...

Dirg: i don't care what nobody says, Perkins has the dream job, he watches tv because the shows offer him illegal rips of the show from the studio a week in advance, he went to his preppy East Coast quaint small-town Stephen King college to gain all those vocab words, he studied hard there and didn't watch tv, all so he could watch tv now. didn't have a tv in his dorm room all four years.

Laertus: it's not worth the soul-crushing comments he has to read which challenge his manlihood, livelihood, and leftyhood.

Federer: should i do SNL? there's no Swiss SNL late at night, just softcore cheese commercials with long pipes starring Mike McCarthy.

Chrissie: of course, Roger! Roddick sucked, take it from me.

Judge Judy: you know when people say my name now, all they think about is the obscene amount of money i make. it's not good for my image nor my tribe's. somewhere along the way i think i took the wrong track.

Bump: you should have been meaner, that's always the right tack. thumbtack up your doggy soggy bottom.

Judge Judy: i mean shouldn't i be a Chief Justice or something? like I should be Ruth Bader, not Ruth Bader. i look like Ruth Bader...without glasses...

Bump: it's yours if you handle Mueller for me. get me off on a tv technicality or something, like Mueller shouldn't have done that tv interview.

Eye Luggage: okay go, great show, why am i getting so many brochures at my doorstep? in the middle of my shrimp toast and kommunist kombucha from the Bouchard assembly line here at my desk, my mouth is a mess right now, looks a mess, my teeth are turnt, thank goddess for radio.

Dirg: fresh take: the little girl in the latest Doctor Who episode couldn't act for shit.

Eye: dude, the girl is BLIND!!!

Dirg: so? don't all you freaks want to be treated equally?

Laertus: i quite like how Chibnall hasn't used ANY of the classic Who monsters yet, let's hope that continues in the series finale, which doesn't mean the same in the States as on the Pond. that would be a fresh take on the franchise. and was that the first Doctor Who ever set in Norway?

at LUSh Dirg is on the blue bed in the private room apart from the soaps rack. needs a skeleton key to get in through the wooden sliding door, a skeleton key with the head of The Pope wearing a skullcap. he is lain there with his arms and feet in a cross, looking up and witnessing the myriad of dizzying blue-spark spells whizzing by his nose which Madame Pons activates with her wand wildly swinging back and forth causing the ceiling to rumble. bits of dried dusty concrete fall onto Dirg's catching tongue like a Slayer concert in a rainy white storm squall.

Dirg: i don't think this is working, Doc, you're freaking me out with all these ghosts but all i see are stars. the bed is soaking wet but i'm not feeling wet in my front.

Pons: you got the vaginal egg inserted in your dickhole?

Dirg: yeah but nothing. let me try something.

he stands up on the mattress and positions his penis into Pons's mouth pushing her down by her pointy shoulders getting his ringfinger stuck in her head of auburn wasp's-nest of fried coiled curls.

Dirg: it's okay. for science. it's not threatening cos i have an egg penis now...…...what if you join me? insert a vaginal egg into yourself and join me on the bed. we'll hold hands and not look at each other and everything, side-by-side.

Pons sweats it out but does exactly that. but she does turn to look at him on the bed.

Pons: anything for my patients. and my patience. hey, look at me, you've never looked at a woman before have you? i mean at her face. in her eyes.

Dirg: no. i don't get that in porn during the blowjob, it just freaks me out. those wiggling pupils while sucking.

there is no more action up top. only their words breathing a topsoil layer onto the chippy ceiling.

Pons: the zucchetto. the cap of skull. like a tight dress. capped off with a skull.

Dirg: and i like zucchini, it's as Italian as the Pope, looks like a cock. that should be the cap of Life not death.

Pons: fillerup?

Dirg: fill him up.

at the Mansion Dirg cannot be seen dropping two drops of Purple Stuff into Stan Lee's Coca-Cola cup. cos Coke is dark and hidden. Dirg is moving with his spindly ringfinger the dot which moves the cursor on Laertus's laptop desktop on Stan's desk. a Russian woman in a Mister Rogers sweater with an impossibly large model ass is asking silently if he can undress her?

Stan: *unparching* oooh that's good on a chilly night.

Dirg: pimp cup. Coke for the Bloke. a young person's beverage. yeah it's basically long-island iced tea.

Stan: where's your cup? aren't you thirsty?

Dirg: always. just look at the screen.

Stan: who's the woman?

Dirg: she's not important, i'll explain later. this is a foundational film about foundations. a guide not a gimmick generating geoducks with geodon inside. a manual not a movie. for form and function not fun. showtime...

Monday, December 3, 2018


1. lingerie---do you like to give it as a gift or receive it? it was a gift, Judge Judy, not a loan. i was a young hotshot reporter fresh outta law school. my first assignment was on the local-courthouse beat for the biggest decision since Marbury v. Madison. Judge Judy was gonna determine whether or not The Two Coreys could be legally divorced. sure, Feldman and Haim agreed they were shacking up in sin in that house carved into the Hill for that reality show, but who exactly owned that Malibu mansion? the company? the estate was awaiting ruling. the three of us were called to chambers. inside the interiors of Judge Judy's private room the walls were carpeted. there we three were greeted with a treat: Judy stood on top of her desk and disrobed to reveal nothing but black lingerie underneath. we had long suspected and the rumors proved true. that was the first time an official procedure of any matter was steno'd with the word gilf. and the first time GILF was used to headline the front cover of a New York Times broadsheet, top half, best 8th.

2. what's a good date-night movie? i wouldn't know. because i had a thing for John Ritter in those days i went to see Stay Tuned in theatres. big mistake, despite it being a '90s film this was not the best. my date turned her head to me mid-showing and told me it wasn't deep. the only part worth seeing was that Chuck Jones animated interlude, there i learned for the first time the thing with the electronics in the bathtub, i didn't want my date to see that part just in case we had wine or port afterwards. Tim Burton turned down this movie to direct Batman Returns…...i think he made the wise turn for his career. years later, the only thing i remember about that night was the theatre's long winding spiral staircase carpeted with red felt and Ancient Roman stone and it was raining outside so hard it seeped into the carpet fibers. many fell down those stairs. i dropped my paper cup full of ice on the stairs and no one noticed. it was playing at an unusual filmhouse at the way outer edge of Los Angeles town, we had to drive a long distance out-of-the-way to see it, was the only place screening it. the bus driver did most of the driving. my date was so bored thoughout the whole affair she looked down at her gold legs the whole time and had time to invent the Thighmaster. my date was Chrissy Snow.

3. when your partner asks you "what's wrong?", do you most often say "nothing" when something clearly is wrong? why?

cos that's what all humans do, have you noticed? that's the default defacto position answer whenever someone asks you, "how are you doing?", we say "nothing" in a kneejerk jerky fashion.

for me this spreads to everyday life. i answer "nothing" when people ask me "what is your name?" "what is your favorite color?" "what time is it?" "what are you gonna do with your life?" "are blue raspberries a real fruit?"

i have no friends.

4. to keep the fires burning and the relationship fresh you send your significant other just one text. what is that text?


but see, it will get misunderstood as i am. she'll think it's me like saying fuck me like my life sucks. not fuck me i want to have sex in your holes. in the holes in her Santa Fe-style adobe bone desert home. so she'll agree (not on the holes part) and hang up the twitterer. so i'm left with nothing, alone and cold. and so i send out the text FUCK ME meaning the second meaning this time...

bonus: what was your last grand romantic gesture? stood outside the fluttering window of her two-storey cottage house on the browning lawn in the middle of windy October and held up a boombox with both hands. my arms started to hurt and she wasn't home anyway, she never is. the cops later arrested me as i stood on the spot cos they had never seen a boombox before and thought it was a terrorist bomb.

doble: and then there was the time i had it all set up at the Philadelphia Flyers game to announce Will You Marry Me? on the big jumbotron screen but Gritty the mascot hit a puck right into my tits deflating them. it somehow got past the glass plastic screen it was that fast, Gritty is a nightmare with a stick and will strike you down. you know if you get up close to Gritty, you can smell the sawdust on his breath, it's like the mouth-section of the muppet costume was never finished…


Friday, November 30, 2018



* i know i know, tech and cars

* Chris Hardwick: i'm trying not to blame my name for my troubles. but it's hard. see? sorry.
Dick's: don't blame us. we offer sports equipment mostly for boys. what did you expect?

* Croce: that band stole my song! i can travel time you know. i'm coming to get you!......dammit my bottle broke when i was playing 99 Bottles on the hull of a pirate ship!

* that baby chair is not good for serving food…

* remember the '70s?: the basement was used to do laundry. caves were still in nature. the washer and dryer were still separate but equal, they only made circular glass for that one item, you could see your dirty clothes spinning in bubbles and it was like cheap therapy, saved on drugs. the arcade was in the laundromat, that's where the idea for quarters came from. inchworms after rain were set free, not stepped on.

* mom and dad: remember our faces. we're gonna be wearing wigs.

* sister: dad, why does everyone in the Seventies wear rainbow-sleeved yellow sweaters?
dad: two words: Jim Croce.
sister: mom, please, no more watermelon in my lunchbox. the kids are starting to make fun of me.

* sister: dad, the kids are starting to make fun of me at school! why can't i play REAL tennis?! you got this table-tennis set at the board-games section of Toys R Us!
dad: only rich people play tennis, dear, we're not rich people. i run an arcade in the afternoon.

* dad: now honey, i want you to take this weird small racquet made of many bubbles and smash your brother's face in. like you're hitting a real tennis serve. don't worry, your brother is wearing glasses.

* brother: felt?
sister: not yet...……….oh you mean the court...

* tv down in the basement with stacks of ATARI cartridges never turned on in favor of ping pong. laundry basket for ping-pong balls only.

* mom: honey, where did you win all these trophies?
dad: the arcade. video-game sports.
mom: one day that really will be a profession. but not today, me and my hair are stuck in the '80s. my mother wanted me to marry an athlete…

* sister: dad, what do you think?
dad: blue paint, bold choice. Bison? are you hunting behind my back again, missy!?
sister: no that's just our sports team at school.
dad: Alexis For President, nice. who the fuck is Alexis!?
sister: your stupidity made me spill the blue paint all over the goddam table-tennis table it's ruined!!!
dad: one day all the real tennis courts won't be green , they'll be blue...

* sister: how'd you win? i'm smarter and taller than you.
brother: i'm shorter yet stronger than you. i know, it's not fair.
sister: at least i still got my Harlem Globetrotters basketball and you got your roller skates...we're a progressive family.
brother: watch: table tennis was so good to me i grew instantly into the body of a college student!
sister: how'd you get the money for college?
brother: i joined a frat.
sister: there are no frats for girls.

* sister: wait, what is this? the low-humming blue light? the red cups? but this is still the basement.
brother: yeah there were no table-tennis scholarships in the '90s and dad retrofitted the basement to become my "man cave" and we pretend i'm in college and this is a hostel party.
sister: wow. they even hung STATE flags and everything, this is one big snowjob.
brother: hopefully later tonight. we couldn't afford to wash our togas.

* brother: how are you getting by life?
sister: i won a rollerblading scholarship to a junior college. i invented the sport by retrofitting your roller skates. became a mogul. they wanted me to be a machinist and marry up to the ATARI guy but i blazed my own trail. it wasn't dorky for girls to rollerblade in the '90s, it was cool.

* sister: how are you getting by life?
brother: completed college by suing that dude that broke the table-tennis net.
dad: son, here is your brown cardboard box. get used to it, you will be fired many times. now forget what you've learnt on tv, all you need for college is two bigass giant gallon-bottles of both ketchup and mustard and TONS of socks.

* dad: let's see, ORNAMENTS. is it Christmas already again, dear?
mom: yep, i can tell by that cheap plastic surgery on your face and bad gray dyejob on your head.
dad: sigh. that WEDDING box, never got to use it...
mom: for the tree ornaments this year, dear, just use your ben wa balls.

* brother: hey sis, want a game? WHOA what happened to you!? why are you Hispanic now?
sister: game? LIFE is a game. look, i can't tell you where i live, work, teach, and audit, but let's just say my name is Suri Cruise now. and this is my son Little Tom Cruise. he's wearing the snow sweater of course.

* sister: this is perfect cheap therapy. i'm gonna beat you the fuck down, brother. get out all my aggression and disappointment about the way my life went on you!
brother: that's okay. that's what brothers are for. this is how love was shown to us by mom and dad, you're only a mirror. as you can see, i never left this basement. and we root for the Jacksonville Jaguars. we don't get out much.
dad: that white wig looks so ugly and fake on you.
mom: fuck you, dear.
dad: fam, for Christmas this year i got us the table-tennis court fixed!
brother: *checking his phone* no buyers yet cos it's lost all its nostalgic value.
Napoleon Dynamite: sentimental value: one million dollars in elongated coins. actual intrinsic value: fitty cent.


happy weekend, my babies. don't you want to be a fly on the palatial wall of Nick and Priyanka's wedding this weekend? or at least an inchworm? watch, eventually that palace will overtake the Taj Mahal as the greatest constructed symbol of love. it will be the only thing up to code when The Big One hits. Priyanka Chopra, not Deepak Chopra, made me believe again......i took a dip in the Ganges, opened my third eye which was red from the chlorine of the spirit---it hurts to heal---and i have never bathed since.

Wednesday, November 28, 2018


Stan Lee: *spiritedly* please, son, no more swear words, my grandfatherly ears haven't the wax nor hair enough to take it on the tender skin.

Keya's eyelids are holding too much salty water and about to break but he helps the old codger up by the reinforced leather elbowpads of Stan's maroon smoking jacket. Stan blows a kiss in his general direction imitating a cigar which Stan never smoked. Keya fixes the affixed paper rose on Stan's laminated lapel.

Stan: cry, son, cry. let it all out. there is nothing more beautiful and more human than crying. what a wonder crying is! i mean you just start turning red and bustin' out with fucking water dripping from your eyeholes and noseholes, it's a bit alien! let that dam break, we all return to cradles and boughs.

Keya: thank you for the second, well third, chance, sir.

Dirg builds up his potential energy by swinging his forearm in a circle till it becomes an invisible Flash and just plants his dress-shoed foot on one of Stan's many carpets and just WALLOPS THE FUCK out of Keya's face, smashing it into billions of pieces of wet clay and tooths. the poor dude goes flying out the window with a crashing glassing sound even though there is no window on the high arched rectangle. he tries to hang on and shoot something from his cut wrists but they aren't developed yet and Keya can only shoot spit on the way down to his doom. landing in a trash bin which converts anything to a dry recycling product cube and tranforms like Bumblebee into a black rolling cart with 4x4 tires that tho black is still Autobot and gets transferred to the nearest recycling plant in the center of the sea on a conveyor belt in the vast Asian sea.

Dirg: see i don't trust recycling, it all has to go through China. never liked the name Autobot, auto implies automatic responses, like it's communistic, without thinking for oneself.

Stan: what the fuck, son. that nice boy was just about to tell me how he had taken care of me all these years…

Dirg: it was a gaslight, sir. he was just using you to further his career. to sell his script.

Stan: he kept telling me not to trust the woman...

Dirg: women are good at being nurses in porn but not in real life. and especially not YOUR nurses. those were obvious set-ups and clearly certain scams. and honeypots. and just plain honeys. i wonder how those women feel about what they did to you now? so close. I am your Full-Time Boy now! count on me for anything. ask me anything, not in the reddit way, in the way that i shall serve your every need.

Stan: every? i'm so old i don't care anymore. faces change but my place remains the same.

Dirg: Keya was feeding you drugs in your tea to keep you down. so he could have a hold on you till you'd owe him your debt and your death. you'd have to agree to sign on the dotted line before your eyes went dotty like a thought balloon. but not even deliberate drugging could keep down the spirit of your Force and your general cheery attitude about people. you trust too much, so that is why i know you can trust me on this.

Stan: maybe i'm being selfish...yeah has to...i'm just a selfish dottery old man who has been an old man even when i was young...always with the simple view on life...i'm never satisfied despite everything...i've been lucky, so lucky, too lucky...but...well...will you help an old man fulfill his final fantasy?

Dirg: *making weird hand gestures* i'd do anything fo' you, pops. i mean pop. fo sho. even give up my life. as a nerd. you're my father. thank you, uh does this mean i can clear all the other applications off the glowing green screen of your old-skool computer?

Stan: who's there? other people applied?

Dirg: just Bill Maher…they cancelled his show again...

Eye Luggage: hello everypony! i hope you slept non-drug-induced well. this long holiday weekend. Thanksgiving is the worst, right? you're forced to cramp in and fit in like sardines with these strangers you've never met in your life! these strangers called family! you have nothing in common with these people the DNA tests must be wrong! i mean what are you supposed to say to them? of course your life sucks and there are no updates! your carefully-constructed cartoon schedule is suddenly upended in favor of some strange communal meal that starts at 3PM, no other meal will ever start at 3PM again! even anime wolves have the courtesy to eat the anime foxes on time! and in some cases some of my poor brothers and sisters and thirds listeners have sardines instead of turkey! no thirds nor seconds!

Laertus: romaine calm and carrot on. *he eats a carrot like Bugs Bunny* i've entered the chat. on the food front.

Eye Luggage: i trust all of my followers out there got a good dose of my livestream during the ENTIRE Thanksgiving weekend to give you a little bit of me to keep you warm like a glowing flatscreen. little bit of home, your e-home. a little excuse bathroom break you know, to stay plugged in to your real family during those awkward pauses and trying times. when you're trying to throw up.

Dirg: yeah what was that? my imagination ran the gamut of rampant tryna come up with it. it was you and your cute face and cute freckles popping out of a wedge of your huge blue fuzzy weighted blanket. but the viewing screen was a wedge, too, it was just this little sliver of lifecasting livestream that barely covered a column vertical. and every so often around noon and lunch and 45-minute intervals you'd smile and giggle and moan and an oddly-shaped hammerstick would rise the blanket like a teepee and go back down and you'd gasp with your eyes closed.

Eye Luggage: oh that was my Harley hammer under there. but it's not what you think. that blanket was covered in lice. had to poop under there.

Dirg: are you sure that wasn't your elbow-padded elbow that looked like it was armor-crested by a valkyrie?

Eye Luggage: today we have very special guests, in an effort to draw more viewers to my totals...

Dirg: you mean black voters. the urban collection. the UPN conglomerate cohort. and some woke WB whiteys in tightie-whities. to boost your sagging ratings with falsies.

Eye Luggage: show will feature those with black features. my soul sistas! i'm so excited, finally my webber is cool! we've even...yes as you can see here. hear's being rolled out right now like a wedge of cheese, thanks Jerome...

Jerome Corsi: part of my labor...

Eye Luggage: the famous and infamous Red Table all those cool black chicks gab on with their famous Hollywood friends on tv on bout the lesbian skinny REAL real talk when it comes to love and family and marriage. i can't get enough of this shit, it's the hot shit, and it's what keeps my troubled fragmented millennial mind wired to some good old-fashioned ancient spiritual wisdom from my Nubian princesses straight from the Homeland Hinterland Herself, Africa!

Dirg: this is hot shit! come on, you have Will Smith's wife here. she's not even anything spiritual, she's a Scientologist, that was the first cult in Medieval times, you know alchemy? anime, anyone? they even admit out loud that they're the Proud Illuminati. though i will say their headquarters are very filmic, bigass cracklin' neon letters to the sign with a S and a Y for psi on top of the Marriott Hotel where they filmed all the '30s movies. what happened to that dude's wife? Leah Remini wants to play her in the tv-movie.

Eye: hello, Jada. excuse the mess in the studio, just move the books from the background, Jerome, like you had to do with your show. make sure the red table fits in and replaces our old newsdesk. that's it. looks great up in here. how have you been? how's Will in his slim-fit pants? and your will? and the kids?

Dirg: the kids are ruining Pokémon.

Eye: your show is the best, so fresh and honest and unblinking, you get down to the nittygritty about life, you even talk about black depression, and you don't let Will off the hook at a wedding!

Jada: spit fire ho, welcome. i'm praying for you, EL. just feel it's time to talk. talk prevents wars, within families, which lead to wars. and misunderstandings. oh those motherfucking misunderstandings, they can last a lifetime.

Dirg: everyone and everything is misunderstood. but each side is too proud to admit it. your auditing is cool, unlike the stupid IRS.

Jada: that's why i'm brutally honest with my kids at the table, no peas but graphic depictions of me and Will's sex positions. i want them to learn about life, how it really be. we talk about my movie career and how i had better green lyrics than most California rappers but was not given my chance to shine on tape and how 2Pac was better in bed as a Hologram.

Dirg: speaking of hot shit, damn girl, you my chocolate sister! you hot fudge! what is your name, sweeties? you look like those bus-tour college students in Alabama with long skirts and even longer books who stopped giving a shit in the '60s. with butterflies in your hair and nets over your eyes in the Deep South.

Aisha Moodie-Mills: don't talk to me, i'm moody. i am wise beyond my years which i will not divulge my age and i make many cogent points but my smile is shy and i do it in a quiet coy catlike voice.

Dirg: break rye bread. i know, that's what makes yous sexy!!! you're black goth! your husband is a lucky man, does he have an instagram? i can get into your bed okay i can get into this show now, for manufacturing jobs! *Dirg raises the black-power fist* who else you got here guesting? Robin Roberts with the name that rolls off the tongue in a nest, with balls the size of robins-eggs, you are brave and ballsy and inspired me to truth, say what you said to that fake republican again, it was hilarious!

Robin: Omarosa legally changed her name at the courthouse to Felicia cos she wanted the rights and the royalties so she could be royalty to get paid on B.E.T. everytime that name appeared on a tv line. i talked her out of it cos Omarosa is such a distinguishing beautiful African princess native name. she's royally comed around.

Eye: and we welcome Mia Love, who got no love from the President. see, we're bothsidesism here, too. all that matters is that you're cool, so what happened with your race, Mia?

Mia: my political race, right?

Dirg: it was right. but you aren't appreciating the President's calculus. he sees that one thing about you and runs with it, regardless of party or named party. he's a maverick thinker. btw i know i say this to every woman i meet and encounter, but with your name you really should go into porn. or at least women's wrestling, which is a separate thing from men's wrestling, one is fake.

Eye: oh, here we go again, i can't block him for security reasons. the President has entered the chat. Mia Love has left the chat.

Bump: leftist. okay folks, country, i did it, i dared and you can eat romaine lettuce again like a man. i put out the fires myself, i went to each coast, the top and bottom of California…

Eye: you ruined all of our Thanksgivings!!! when it finally rains it rains on Thanksgiving?! come on! and then it rains again a second time on Black Friday!? that can't be a coincidence.

Bump: it's not good to buy too may things, that leads to consumerism and a bad economy. besides, the only water which matters came out of my penis, i watered down all the lettuce on the central coast and purified the romaine with my magic yellow pee. i made sure to save this precious water for that instead of the fires. and then i took a joint-shit with Adam Schiff into the soil ground of the largest lettuce farm in the world in the largest doublewide outhouse in the world which helped heal the rows more. see? bipartisanship. i shaked each farmer's hand afterwards.

Mueller: hi. hi, guys. what are you doing to me, guys?

Corsi: this is for sending those Mexican actors to the border of my courthouse location at my trial-set date to razz on me like i was a comedian or something. Honduran hecklers. they interviewed some dirty kid named Tres Leches holding up a sign saying Coming To America, You Old Fuddy-Duddy! i took it to mean he thought i was a Neil Diamond fan.

Mueller: those were some classic NYC signs.

Corsi: i'm a coarse negotiator. and a shrewd liar. anyone can write a book, just rub off the section. hi hi! there are no standards to publishing anymore, the printing press was a miracle but it's since lost its keys. it's called self-publishing, bitch! it's good that you thugs picked me up, it's good for my image and my listeners to have that Kenyan vase you broke over my head in anger for the back-out.

Mueller: i should have known better. never call to the carpet of my office a self-incriminating and lazy witness who has his own radio show, he's just gonna go back to that damn radio show and blab his fat gut and spill the beans he knows are Mexican and shouldn't spill cos they'll jump at ya. does a sealed indictment mean nothing to you? you're not supposed to talk about it, talkie! learn from my weird mouth! so much time, so many still hours, the case was airtight till you let the air outta the thought balloon! this ain't the latest sportsball game score, airhead, puck you! i burned your book at a university, we had an office party to relieve all the shouting tension.

Eye: okay, friends, that's it, make sure to take your rolled-up brown headband in your totebags by your waxed legs i left for you as gifts, not a Judge Judy loan. don't worry, there's a blacklight in there but no blackfishing line. ugh, those instagram influencers, amirite? all night long, is it lunch already?

Dirg: *his hands clasped in prayer and bowing with eyes shut* meet me in the Panther's Cage after the aftershow, my Dora Milaje.

Laertus: it's like Dennis Perkins from AV Club being called out by that latest Simpsons episode about tv-recappers.

Dirg: that was classic and brutal. his headline read The Simpsons Made Me Kill Myself. his review wasn't at all about the episode or if the drama was earned, but a kind of note to his doctor. he really reevaluated his whole life after that.

Laertus: i hear he's on the Spongebob beat now. his first assignment was the obituary for Stephen Hillenburg.

Dirg: Hillenburg, Hillenburg, sounds Jewish…

Laertus: no, Hillenburger, get it? died on the hill. of his real passion. that whole revolutionary cartoon was sneakily teaching us about marine biology.

Dirg: and sponges, guys don't know about that stuff. when he was showrunner Spongebob was adult swim. after he left, it became Nickelodeon.

Laertus: speaking of Nickelodoen, Amanda Bynes…

Dirg: wow, a Bynes sighting! a non-fat Bynes sighting! hey you having your dinner now?

Laertus: yup. my breakfast. drunk noodles. Thai-style. hear my slurping sound through the large mic?

Dirg: wish i hadn't, killed the mood. i was thinking of Amanda in her glorious prime.

Laertus: give the girl credit, she didn't blame twitter for her problems. and she is a veritable schizophrenic success story! i mean she actually overcame her mental illness instead of drowning to it to her dank detriment, coughing up cash and pearls of cum and coke instead of wisdom. parents, not pills, is the answer, they have psychiatric hold and influence over her. now she's ready to act right. she had a thing like Britney with the shaved head and a wafflehouse but it was less-publicized, more Mueller. it's never too early or late to throw it all away.

Dirg: i want to see her in binds. gotta hand it to Dan Snyder, somehow his toesucking survived the MeToo era. but what is she gonna return to? All That for adults? yeah, that's the ticket, have the show still be on Nickelodeon but the cast is all adults, that's the only way for Nickelodeon to out-Nickelodeon itself.

at the Tiger Woods/Phil Mickelson livestream, the only thing being filmed is not the golf tournament but the two blokes behind a desk parsing out and separating and dividing and divvying up and halving all the prizemoney in clear glass Deal or No Deal suitcases. the audience at home and crowd there live are less than enthusiastic and generally disappointed.

Tiger: thanks, Chuck, now my swing looks like yours, you couldn't keep talking the whole time and ruined my concentration during the tournament.

Charles Barkley: no problem, *belly laughing* i'm just turrible like that. *hits cigar on course*

Phil: *waves his hand to his face* oh you are so terrible, Chuck!

Tiger: i'm dead serious, can't you tell from my expression? i can't drive anymore, either. like a car. i picked a nice restaurant for us to post-celebrate, not that KFC on the corner who are just tryna sell out on the backs of our people. my back hurts. want some real waffles?

Bump: hello, i just came from lunch there at KFC...

and then the rest of the broadcast stream is just Phil trying to get Tiger to get him a date undercover with one of the Perkins waitresses. Phil has been lonely ever since his caddie Bones turned to bones. Phil still wants to be the family man taking pills on tv like Tiger, he wants it both ways. adding those pills on tv ads. Phil orders with his left hand.

Phil: waffle waitresses are the best…

Tiger introduces Phil to Dennis Perkins…

Gladyce: have you tried these Lindt chocolates, dear? they are so luxurious! cream in a bowl!

Doryce: oh my!

Gladyce: can't say that anymore...

Doryce: you are right! they are balls! good balls. remember when fudge was a thing? to eat and to play with in the bedroom? what mien! they taste like a mean match of European double-dutch rope! not double-dutch chocolate. the old country. when the name has a dt, you're in decadent territory!

Gladyce: i love all their wrappings and trappings, so festive! and they look like little mini Death Stars. they have the small indentation circle at the top of them and everything.

Doryce: cos chocolate is the enemy. death by chocolate. i have a middle waist that needs to be rounded up and go round and round like that Death Star laser. i need to do more exercise, more round and round on the double-dutch to swing my ass into dough ropes. speaking of the old country, wanna bagel?

Gladyce: are you asking me you want to eat out? on a date?

Doryce: truffles are Nature's way of telling us to have our bacon and eat it too.

Madame Pons: i'll be right with you, sir. have a seat in my backroom barbershop chair, sit back, it pumps up and down with air! like Air Jordans! you're my best customer, so best you're my client! i've been working hard for you!

Dirg: are you sure no one can see me here?

Pons: don't worry, everyone's in class it's the middle of the day in broad daylight! want a refill on those three there Erlenmeyer flasks you brought into my lush shop impressively holding all three with just your one hand?

Dirg: please. i love those long necks. do it under the counter, the physical counter so no one sees. you got that red spray that detects cameras in a room? if only Erin Andrews had had that spray she'd still be poor. and when you're done potioning please drop three drops of purple food-coloring into it, Purple-Drank scent. and can you trade the flasks with those Medieval glass bottles with the cork stopper that look like a Smurfs vinegar set? the ones Gargamel always used, the fatbottoms.

Pons: i just got the green Gargamel bottles. you stole these flasks from the college chem lab didn't you.

Dirg: project. pop-culture project. i saw the vaunted pilot of Breaking Bad's good but would not watch the second episode...did you know drugs make you thirsty for anal?

Pons: yeah they dry out your mouth. now please, sir, gently insert the egg into your dickhole. it should feel like a prick at first, but then you'll expand like female thought.

Dirg: oh. *breathes heavy and tries to look up and down* oooooh. ahhhhhh. agh. don't tell nobody but this is the best orgasm i never had!

Monday, November 26, 2018


it was always so special cos you never knew what you were gonna get: sometimes the Garfield would be color, sometimes black-and-white. and Drabble, never forget the brilliance of Drabble. Drabble got this tennishead into golf. and made me take a second look at Jon Arbuckle. as a design for a man, the nose and everything, big head caused by having his beltbuckle cinched-up too tight. now when i talk to kids they don't even know what paper is. i have no kids of my own, so i bother my weird uncle's kids on the phone. they each live out-of-state. and out-of-country. and out-of-world.

these are gonna be awkward to answer...but i'll do 'em anyway. i don't do long...

1. if married, had you slept with any of your wedding guests not including the person you married? how many of the guests had you slept with?

weddings are always tricky affairs, wink wink. you gotta bring together and handle with hot glue two differing groups of people, folk on either side of the love spectrum, not willing to give the other side a chance, thinking their guy or gal is too good for you, without it turning into warring factions and devolving into a nuclear holocaust. at least for those 30 minutes of the ceremony.

i remember my wedding...i think. it rained the whole time, right? some thought that lucky, others unlucky. Alanis wrote a song about it.

i remember my weird uncle slept with my newly-minted wife's sister...that's when the weird moniker got attached to him the first time. i think i married the wrong woman, yeah the priest asked for the mother of the bride to come up to the ivory steps and say a few words and i thought this was the ceremony starting and i wed the mother instead. i was really out of it that day. good news is the in-law visits are never awkward.

2. weddings again---ever gone to a wedding and hooked up with another guest? yes. but it's okay cos it was a wedding i crashed. that was back in those days when i drank a lot of champagne for some reason and still thought Ashton Kutcher was cool.

3. do you get along with your partner's family? why or why not? Yoshi's family have been nothing but kind to me, i love them as my own. it's more than tradition with them, it's trust. they let me sit on their egg and everything. from now on, all music commemorating any of our family functions will be honored with Utada and enka. Utada, i didn't know till now, god bless you.

4. who in  your romantic relationship is usually the first to apologize after a fight? oh wait...……...long-distance doesn't necessarily mean long-term relationship...…i was wrong about this and i am sorry, i got confused…….I LOVE YOU, BABY!!!, she knows who she is...

5. when was the last time you dreamed about your partner? was it a good dream or a nightmare? i'm dreaming of him right now...………….after many centuries of meditation i've mastered the secret technique of never having to sleep again...……….you see i simply LUCID DREAM FOREVER....i'm constantly in that state------it's like a spiritual enlightenment in which i never close my eyes...….

my partner is Freddy Krueger so it's both.

bonus: do you think that fate or destiny play a role in love? no. it's all very scientific, cos the universe and the stars are scientific. the folk in the Middle Ages had the right idea, and they were forethinkers when it came to science. those weren't witch-dunkers you saw by those boggy ponds by the thatched roofs, those were the first prototypes for seesaws. you know bobbing for apples? well they'd take the apple, skin it alive, and leave the skin---the red apple rind. you place the long curly apple rind over the back of the woman's bare shoulderblade. it was hard to see cos all women back then had long hair. the natural apple string will point to the lucky bloke the maiden is to marry. backwards, cos all the villagers are staring at her butt. even Alan Cumming.


Friday, November 23, 2018



* i'm doing this instead of experiencing Macy's Black Friday at a Macy's. Black Friday was rained out today...i live in California.

* the Macy's's in the commercials are always nicer than the Macy's's in real life. not to throw shade or nothing but the trees at my Macy's are brown...but they still provide shade just the same's okay.

* woman: i look like Monica Lewinsky. isn't it TIME? i mean, come on, let's all move on, this is the one thing from the '90s we DON'T want back, we all watched the A&E special. let's get this look back to Parisian-chic where it belongs. have you noticed no one ever actually eats breakfast at Tiffany's? and btw, why do i spritz the perfume on my front wrist like this? when did that tradition start?
counter girl: suicide-prevention thing. late '70s, first sighted at a The Good Earth restaurant in Fresno. also where the first furry con happened. yeah, at the old Oakland A's stadium by that dude's farm's green creek, the first furry con wasn't filmed...

* man: my Spidey-sense is working overtime...i have my Spider-Man pajamas when i was a little kid still on under my Tommy John underwear and business sweater.

* woman sneaks in on him with snow in her mittens.
man: see one you like?
woman: what? how?
man: this dog is a Golden retriever.
woman: wait, how? like that's impossible for you to know. why'd you let the dog go?
man: he was telling me he really hated this job and was too young for this and to be tied down like the job and the leash...and just wanted to run on the beach before his puppy days ran out. i took no offense. see one you like?
woman: maybe that one.
man: sorry. this lot is not a lot. it's simply the forest, we're in the middle of a forest clearing and none of these trees are for sale. they're just here for us to see and enjoy. nature: don't mess with it like men do.
woman: this should have been a bigger snowball, like that one that Jets player threw at the fans.
man: why exactly do you still root for the Jets? at least my Giants are sometimes good. why are we together again?
woman: you had a cute butt, you reminded me of the Butt Fumble.
man: cute butt, that is so '90s. hey i'm a cool guy and all but i'm jus' sayin', most guys wouldn't like their ladies walking around and sneaking around and steppin' out with white stuff in the palm of their hands.

* man: you're back.
woman: how do you do that?
man: what's with the red bags?
woman: Macy's.
man: but why are there seven red bags? i was listening to music on my headphones.
woman: exactly. you are impossible!
man: they're Beats by Dre. they're Aaron Rodgers's favorite, so. yeah, they don't work. i didn't get into Cal like Aaron did so that forever makes me hate the two coasts.
woman: brah, how was he supposed to answer such a clown question?
man: folks, look at my pretty woman and not my eyes.
woman: as you can see, we got the tree anyway...illegal lumberjacking...

* woman: honey, what happened to all my perfume?
man: drank it. and melted the diamond glass bottle for spare parts and recycled arcade tokens.
woman: next time ask me. i don't like to be reminded of all the empty vessels in this house.
man: OMG this orange juice tastes like shit!!! it's all vinegary!!!

* counter girl: here, sir, like this?
man: i LOVE this smell, it smells like my wife's cooch. i mean couch. are you Asian?
counter girl: yes. but hot Asian so it's okay. i have green eyes.
man: i just don't want to get ripped off.
counter girl: i'm not the Car Fox. not all Asians are into furry anime tropes.
man: it's just that this smells awfully familiar like Blue-Flavored Otter Pop. do you perchance partake in the writing novelizations of Steve Martin? who's known as a book author?
counter girl: the guy with the arrow stuck through his head?
man: don't tell my wife about this...

* woman: how did you know this was my favorite perfume?
man: a woman's favorite perfume is always the most expensive one on the diamond glass shelf.
woman: that's sweet, a hug...…………… can let go of me now.
man: just one more sniff of the back of your neck...………..this isn't creepy, i'm blind.
woman: okay but it still is kinda shuddersome and unpleasant.


happy weekend, my babies. yeah, i'm with the Amazon strikers, imma just walk out on the third-busiest day of the business year. and go to a brick-and-mortar and buy my shit there. Small-Business Saturday, right? cwoissant. does anyone even do that, though? i mean you're either gonna shop at a small business or you're not the rest of your life, right? this entire whole holiday week is nuts. the Amazon workers ain't stupid, they're sophisticated, they watch high-brow sci-fi like the rest of us, they saw that Doctor Who epsidoe "Kerblam!" and want New York City to return to when it was cool in the '70s with the porn theatres and soda stains everywhere. can you believe that was the first Doctor Who episode with an exclamation point? <---question mark to exclaim my point