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.

No comments: