Monday, August 31, 2015


recount your sexual biography:

not much to tell really


i was like Garp, i was growing up fast and wanted my initials to mean Totally Sexy, not Totally Shy. but i was a clueless social butterfly cos i was totally shy. i was a social buttershy. the only thing which gave me confidence was trains. i was an expert on trains in my own mind. i would spend the entire day deep in the basement alone with my model trains and my cute tiny little bushes. the cities i created were more alive than the city i lived in.

one day i was wearing my conductor's suit and hat and i pulled the chain and the train whistle blew smoke up my ass. and then Santa (i think that's how he pronounced his name) appeared in the smoke and told me of the legend of the 7 kisses: throughout my life i would be kissed seven times, each one connected to the previous. the seventh person to kiss me would be my soul mate.

* i ate a whole bag of Hershey's kisses one day after school after getting a B+ on a test. it did not make me feel better, i felt sick. Santa told me that that either didn't count as a kiss or it counts as all seven kisses and the game is over.

* my first real one: i was a punk in high school after it was cool. i went to Degrassi. i had blue hair and everyone made fun of me, even the cool teachers. the only soul (clue i missed) who was kind to me was a young woman named Clare. Clare never went to class, she just loitered the halls all day. she was the hall monitor so it was cool. she kissed me on the cheek and told me my blue hair would be cool some day. it took a longass time but finally this new Dragon Ball Z thing is coming soon.

* my third and fourth involve robots. i was really into Terminator and was told i was being set up on a blind date with a female terminator, in an MMORPG. i must have misread the email cos Linda Hamilton, not her, just a random person named Linda Hamilton, was my date. we had a hearty meal of virtual huge unstuffed pasta shells and then i thought i would break the ice with the classic Terminator line, "fuck you, asshole!" she thought i was propositioning her and slapped me. Santa said that counted cos sometimes love hurts. next i was set up with one of those robots in that Bjork "All Is Full of Love" video. i really got into Bjork after that.

* 5th was MY kiss. i kissed my girlfriend named Linda Hamilton, another one, it's a common name.

* 6th: Santa kissed me cos he said he wanted to check something. smoke blew out of my ears upon contact. my ears literally became train whistles. i always thought that was just a thing in cartoons but apparently it's real.

* my final test (or so i thought) was the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. i strapped on my proton pack and knew that "kiss" here meant giving that overgrown campfire candy the what for with my stream. but Santa said that's not what it meant and i crossed the streams even though you're not supposed to. i read the initial email wrong, it hadn't finished loading, my damn computer is notoriously slow, the legend is actually SEVENTY kisses. i was done, i didn't have time to be the Wilt Chamberlain of kisses. i donned back my conductor hat and left but i got lost and spent the rest of my life walking in circles on rings.

bonus: have you ever masturbated on public transportation? why? no, that's what private transportation is for. did you know that folks back in the day used to have their own private railroad cars? i saved up my money from my youtube channel and got me one. i had all the privacy in the world in case i ever had to go. cos when you need to go you need to go. but y'know my railroad car was named the Abraham Lincoln so i never had any privacy, a spirit in a stovepipe silk hat sat next to me wanting to tell me a joke all the time under the dining table cover which was gonna be my space.

my friends, to honor the genius of Wes Craven, please watch his Twilight Zone episode "Her Pilgrim Soul." and bring your Yeats book and tissues with you.


Friday, August 28, 2015



* wait, this is easy, use the perpetrator's fear of heights against him.

* Luffy from One Piece is a great character. his entire body is completely rubber...

* kids don't try this at home. adults, too. never lift a barbell over your head with just one hand unless you have a spotter who wears a giant R on his or her chest nearby.

* Captain Barbell: i wanted to get the new Playboy calendar but it wasn't extra-big. i need my calendars to be extra-big. if i get a date wrong, someone dies.

* this will not work with dumbbells. *Neil deGrasse Tyson remains seated*

* Captain Barbell: i hide my magic barbell under my bed so no one will locate it and feel that uncontrollable urge to exercise. the problem is i sleep on my stomach so i have never had a good night's sleep in my life. i know that justice is its own reward but can like someone i saved buy me a Sleep Number bed?


have a super weekend

Wednesday, August 26, 2015


the beautiful lion spirit roams his prairie in the abundant sunlight. while the rest of the ants on Earth fry, here the weather is always just below temperate, it's always a bit cool to remind folk of the bodies they once had, to always feel, cos once you stop feeling, you're dead. but mostly it's cos nobody, no spirit for that matter, can totally take in all of the light that's here.


Manny: i tried to once, i thought i almost had it contained but that was folly in hindsight. we really do a lot of retrospection where we look back at what we've done and it's like how could we even conceive to do or say such a thing?! it would all be so silly tweren't so tragic. you look up and must immediately look down, the light forms as a ball so at first you think you can play with it but soon the round sides of the ball become decidedly pointy and too sharp to the touch before expanding into no sides at all.

Manny is in a huge gilded cage licking his chops. the lion approaches with the key in his paw and lets the giant out.

Manny: thank you. i actually feel more secure in the cage but it's alright. you're new here, huh? but you're a legend so i know you. i also feel i know your name. Leo?

Leon: Leon. i'm usually the cool cat but man these ants got me in a way. i mean they are so stupid. i would feel the same way if it wasn't me who was killed for no reason by some dumb professional. i mean what are they thinking? this is the LAST time i help them, they'll rue the day i left. underappreciated and overworked. why is it that you only miss something when it's gone? do they not care for beauty? it's staring them right in the face but they never see it.

Manny: i feel ya. i was perturbed for awhile at my demise at the hand of an ant that had simply lucked into superpowers. powers should only be given to those that deserve them. but you come here and it changes. believe me, i tried like hell to hold onto my anger but it dissipates against your will after your first sleep here, it scatters away like bits of star, you see it actually happening cos it's your first genuine lucid dream.

Leon: should we save them? what's the point? they're all doomed to the core.

Manny: from the start, sure. but it's never quite finished. there's always a good one in the rotten bunch that spoils the set theory. snow is falling on us, that is our signal. that is the hope, the new hope, that is what keeps people going to see the latest film, trying out something new, entering that dojo.

the hairs of Gora's ridiculously long beard play the strings of a sitar which is the size of a mighty oak tree. and yes, the sitar is situated right next to a mighty oak tree. irony is not lost here, it is manufactured here. he clicks both his heels together and the music is so bad it's good. the happy old man jumps on top of Leon's head.

Gora: kitty kat! you are so precious! can i keep him? i'll love you forever and forever. i'll let you smell all the catnip you want, it's all we grow here. you'll be the judge in the chair when Vara and i play tennis. i was a little sullen this morn but suddenly i remembered my dream from the night before and that's what lifted my spirit. it's so good that we remember all our dreams. i remembered a huge sitar and i got excited cos i'd never played a huge sitar before, or a sitar before. look to your dreams for inspiration when you run out of ideas.

Vara is pregnant with Tror. a huge black veil covers mother and daughter, not a funeral of ultimate death, rather as protection from ultimate life. as she floats about from staff of wheat to staff of wheat eating for two, she cracks some rocks along the way and is greeted by those rocks with just the right amount of squirt of milk made golden honey by the sun.

Vara: the real liquid gold. and i descend from 49ers. and macaroni 'n cheese is my favorite dish. hubby, stop messing around and....oh never mind, that's why i fell in love with you in the first place.

Gora: y'know i still want to ride you, Manny. you're the ultimate goal.

Manny: i'm working on the baby jane doe case. so sad. poor kid. but we needed a new queen. she's gonna need that absolute lack of human love as she ascends to the throne in the Coal Realm where everything and everyone is hardy. it's a fucked up system. isn't there a better way than karma?

Leon: this has stumped our scholars for the millennial edges of Now for centuries. the centuries are on the other side of Now. the thing is when you start to involve feelings rather than beings it gets all messy. these ants are something. when an unspeakable murder happens, it immediately beomes a national tragedy and everyone mourns and scours the land to find the perpetrator. but as the case gets cold and the decades pass, it becomes more of a novelty, the answer to a trivia question in a game show. what happened to the outrage? time doesn't exist. oh to forget. oh how anger fades into mush.

Manny: what's confounding me even more than explaining her death is explaining the life of Aslan, i mean Atalan.

the grass tennis courts burn in the light, washing away all the brown worn-away area at the baselines and cutting the blade perfectly. Gora can't understand why he's not winning any points but then he realizes Vara is playing for two, it's Tror who's feeding her strategy.

Gora (twirling his racquet on his pinky): nice scissor-kick overhead smash, Vara. or rather Tror. got another Serena upcoming. what's this on your side of the net, on that point i always keep aiming my shot toward but missing?

there's a clump on the grass court that's elevating the dirt up.

Gora: see? i knew i wasn't this bad. i've been improving. this will not be a suitcase-slammer weekend.

there's a green hardcover library book in the hole. Vara snatches the book away from Gora before he has a chance to do god knows what, eat the pages or something.

Vara: sorry dear, but our baby einstein needs to learn.

Vara's eyes switch to Tror's and she speedreads the contents of the book but there's always one more page she can never get to.


on tv at the PGA:

Zach throws his clubs into the ocean and is interviewed right after he does this.

interviewer: i know this is still fresh but what happened to you this week?

Zach: i don't get it. i win the British and play like shit here. is there such a thing as momentum? can one thing influence the next thing or is it all random? i can't talk right now. let my action do the talking. go talk to someone more worthy, like Rory or Jordan or Jason. it's Jason's Day.


let's sneak a peek at another entry in Binny's work diary:

i can't. i mean where's the peak? y'know i was trying not to think of more ways for the powers that be to give me more busywork to do but i accidentally thought of something new: flip the words around, APPLE becomes ELPPA and on and on. you'd think ELPPA doesn't mean anything but it might. and what's the deal with everything i look up on Google Translate being some form of "fuck", "penis", or "breast"?


Mickey Bump arrives at the football stadium in his private jet. he jumps out of the plane with only a parachute, it opens on time but the rounded edge of the half circle gets caught in a rotating propeller wing and he comes crashing down to earth:


the crowd cheers.

Bump crashes into his dais, completely destroying it. Bump through the huge pile of rubble gives the peace sign reversed.

Bump: so much rubbish. so much pain. is my hat okay? oh thank god. thank you all for having my back cos i don't anymore. it's okay, we're gonna be okay, the apparatus of my campaign broke my fall. how is everyone today? okay so the stadium didn't fill up but that's not my fault, your football team stinks.

angry voter in the crowd: i usually don't confront in real life but i feel i can talk to you. you're like everyone's uncle and grandpa. should we continue helping them? why?! what's the point? get rid of them all i say! i mean this week do you know what i had to put up with? i had to go through them forgetting to take my trash on Friday and calling them about it and my trash piling up and piling up not fitting my bin anymore ruining my weekend and i'm like if they won't do their job, who will? i was exasperated pulling out my hair on Wednesday and then Wednesday morning i hear the wheels of the truck and i'm so happy and the guy finally comes, knocking on my door no less, he comes in a special truck i've never seen before, a cool one with mechanical arms, and he even gives me a cool new black bin as a consolation for everything, replacing my tired green one. i said thank you thank you and we mutually smiled. i shook his hand, i was so thankful for his visit.

Bump: see? anger never lasts. folks we are America, we are so powerful we can't see the full measure of our might, it's blinding. if we want to go over there and take their resources it already happened yesterday. as you slept safe and sound a giant hand swept across the night and took everything, destroyed everything, and made a deal. call it the invisible hand if you must, it all balances out. no loss of life, all computers. drones that fucking work, am i right? (crowd cheers.) oh, my back feels like it's been back-broke by King Slender. NES Pro Wrestling? anyone? i always liked King Slender cos he was strong but kept slim.

Bump is carried away on a stretcher.

Bump: is this the same stretcher they used for Alex Trebek? i notice these things.

Bump stares straight into the sky. it's weird. it's overcast but so fricking humid. the clouds are bogarting all the moisture for themselves using it to make something else. it's a trick of the sky. the sweat on everyone's face is grayer than the sky. more so with Bump cos his head is big. it should be pleasing and cool to be outside but it's not.

Monday, August 24, 2015


1. do you speak anything other than English? i speak fluent Destinos. also, i speak a patois of English and surferspeak called Phoenixese, like for example: "what up broseph, did you hang that gnarly empty wave at the infinity pool as the sun wailed before eating all those fish tacos?" which translates to something about physics and being a ladies man and the rest is in a silent pitch that can only be picked up by phoenixeseseseseseseses.

2. if yes above, are you fluent? what was your first language? this is my greatest shame, that i'm not fluent in my mother's tongue Spanish. excuse me while i rewind my Destinos tapes again. i speak fluent tvtropes, like i know what hammerspace is, but y'know when you bring up your tvtropes expertise in casual conversation everyone just thinks you're a dick.

3. did you study a foreign language in school? retain any of it? has it been useful? can you speak it or only read it? i asked my college professor if i could get College Spanish credits from all those hours i spent growing up watching Destinos. he saw right through me and accused me of only liking Destinos cos Raquel was hot.

4. if you were gonna learn another language, which one would it be? French, the language of love. i know how to say one French word: hamburger.

5. do you have relatives who speak a language different from your own? oh yes. i feel bad when i can't know what they're saying. words mean and feel different in their native tongue than as their boring English-translated counterparts. they're richer and cooler and have a deep connection to history as their original voiced pronunciation, lilt, and accent. like we all know saudade means saudade, that ineffable Brazilian melancholy. if you look up saudade in English, you get fish taco. thanks Google Translate

6. have you been to a country where you didn't know the language? how well did you cope? all i remember was waking up and i was so cold and sticky. and this giant furry man was trying to eat me. i tried to communicate with him but he was having none of it. i felt bad cos i know what it's like to be so hungry you could eat a tauntaun. food is the universal language. he finally calmed down after he ate me and we had a lovely conversation where we discussed his religion and his politics. btw, he's Vader and Trump. i love that wampa.


Friday, August 21, 2015



* Aquaman: every hero gets beaten up, it's part of life. whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
Captain Atom: what?
Aquaman: nevermind.

* Aquaman: you think Batman is a C-lister? he's obviously a B-lister, B for Batman.

* Aquaman: POPPYCOCK!
Captain Atom: language.

* Captain Atom: dead resurrection? now that's the coolest power. which hero does that?
Aquaman: a personal friend of mine named Jesus.

* Captain Atom: oh Aquaman before i forget, a group of Wiccans swung by Headquarters yesterday wanting to join the Justice League. they have the power to commune with nature, they're very attuned to Mother Earth. i told them you were in charge of membership.
Aquaman: were they hot?

* Aquaman: so, after that do you feel roused?
Captain Atom: yes. is that what they call it?
Aquaman: Captain Atom, why are your pants shrinking?

* i'll never forget the critique my professor wrote at the top of my first college paper on Nietzsche: not sexy enough.

* on my initial viewing of this i laughed so hard and so long at Captain Atom's line at the end, "what was that?", that i missed the rest of the episode.


happy weekend

Wednesday, August 19, 2015


Erneste: my friend, my brother, i ask you one more time: the crying.

Cotard: i'm shaking right now but not as much as back then. at my lowest point, i was as simple as could be. things were less complicated, a mama's boy and his mama, symbiotic for me. she was my only connection to a world that had rejected me. they say a grown man shouldn't cry but i decided to test that as i was always a scientist first and foremost. she would leave to do her exercises or get some milk from the buttercow or something, i had nothing to do all day and would wait for her. i would think back to all she had done for me, i was nothing without her, if she hadn't changed that diaper that one time i wouldn't be standing here today, i'd be crawling like the little helpless baby i am. when i would think of all the groceries she got, the unneeded video games, the haircuts, those special black pencils, the cool skater backpacks, and her signature chicken soup---that combination of Lipton sauce mix and her carefully peeled and boiled potatoes from the old country, it never came out any other way than when she made it, it was savory when it hit my lips, immediately connecting me to the past with an atomic shock---well i cried. i would get down on my knees and cry until she came home. when she got home and noticed me wiping something away on my face, she knew i was in trouble and would call the family-doctor-sanctioned psychologist. i kept telling her it was cathartic to cry but i could tell she had been secretly crying and was exhausted.

Erneste: good, good, that's the ticket, little did you know that something from your past would come back in such a big important way. all of this is building memory muscle that you will use later on.

Cotard: how?

Erneste: you are growing as a person, irmao, most do not take the time to be with themselves, they constantly pierce the silence with outside noise. the more you delve in, the deeper it gets and the deeper you get. you start to build an impenetrable wall around yourself. the loner will save the masses. here, drink this.

Cotard reluctantly takes the trembling cup to his dried lips and cocks back after one half sip.

Cotard: you spiked my tea! i knew it!

Erneste: with butter. all the monks are doing it. it loosens up the memory and sparks the imagination.

Erneste has since grown stronger since meeting his brother the monk. he takes Cotard over his arms and interlocks his fingers to form the perfect pallet to carry him to the top of the glass case with the rest of the figurines so Cotard can get in a good snooze.


Atalan: i see it now, i see past this minor setback, sure i didn't win, that punk idiot savant won, youth was served today, but experience wins in the long con. see i knew the name of that painting but i didn't ring in on time. so, what does that make Yayray? on speed, sure, but that's it. plus i just didn't know the name of that painting, i also think back to how that painting affected me in college, it essentially swerved my train tracks from basketball to the arts. it got me interested in putting my nose in a book rather than in a noseguard. when i looked at that painting, i saw the colors swirling not just on the canvas but on the artist's oval palette with the circular hole chainsawed through for the thumb. i saw how he designed the piece in his head, i can see the inner workings of his mind, they are exactly like the clockwork sprockets you see in cartoons, i see the first seed of the woman he is about to draw. i see that his first draft had her with fuller lips but he thought that was too risque for a portrait of his mother.

Atalan is just about to drown. he has been standing straight up in the mud of the bottom of the pond at the back of the Jeopardy! studio. the unusual deluge of rains---it's always unusual, never just right in this area---really did a number on that otherwise simple hole in the back of the lot that no one paid any mind to. now the eyesore of a crater that looks like the site of a nuclear bomb is filled up with water probably before Ata knew it, so spaced out is he, staring at that piece of coral and the plastic treasure chest there underwater but not really staring at it, locked into a Proustlike tangent. bubbles are coming out his nose, mouth, and head.

Codrus just happens to be walking by at the break and manages to fish Ata out by the shoulders.

Codrus: wow. lucky. i usually have my submarine's metal arms do this or something but it's good to get dirty. down in the mud with the folk. i have so many ideas floating around in my head i need a physical break.

Ata: whoa, what happened? i whited out. thanks, mister. oh, it's you. sorry i couldn't win. not that you care. you probably got the right man.

Codrus: shame we'll never know what you were watercoloring.

Codrus points up ahead in the middle of the pond where Ata's canvas and stand and utensils and painter's cap have all surfaced. whatever was being painted on the canvas has long since dripped and run together.

Ata: huh, it actually looks better than what i was thinking. man this sucks. it sucks like swill through a straw.

Codrus: i know. hey burn yourself out but don't bum yourself out. there will be plenty opportunities to help the revolution. i need everyone. every s-i-n-g-l-e one or it doesn't work. you're different than Yayraj and that's good. you're the second winner. you see things differently.

Ata: it's just...everything now is references to other things. there's no one thing that stands on its own anymore...i mean i don't need another iteration of the thing, i need the source of the thing.

Codrus: i feel ya, homie. goth french fries slathered in black sauce are cool and all, but sometimes you just want to bite into the potato. this is the thing, the thing i've been learning, each person interprets the thing in their own way, it reflects back to their stored pond of knowledge deep within their being. that place deep inside is the truly original thing, it's the one thing that can't be taken away from you because only you have it, that's where snowflakes are formed. take your parent, or uh, rather like i'm the parent to three kids, well they aren't my kids, more like my minions, okay take one of Imzhan's kids or someone, the point is let's talk about cartoons. one kid sees the cartoon and veges out. another kid sees the same cartoon and gets all the references cos he's one of those weird kids that's older than he should be. the final kid sees the cartoon only as an inspiration for her to make a better cartoon, her cartoon. kids look up to parents, the next door neighbor sees the parent as one thing but only the son or daughter sees the parent as that one thing. not that i'd know. i'm just a noob.

Ata: did that word come from novice? you're pretty humble for a megalomaniac.

Codrus: kid, why don't you join me? i know that's not in the rules but rules are meant to be broken. there would never be any progress if nobody broke rules, so at the end of the day, it's the ones who make the rules who should be most glorified. you can help me out in secret.

Ata: i don't know, i have nowhere to roam nor return to, so yeah, i guess, maybe. why does everything have to be secret?

Codrus: ah i love these rains. rain washes away and starts over as it covers over. the dew is newing. such a change from my home where it was so arid we spent the day cracking rocks to see what would spill out. oh, well, we need to have secrets, we can't survive without privacy, man needs codes to break, things must be kept hidden in encrypted computer lines and blacked-out white papers, it can't all be revealed at birth, where's the fun in that? more importantly, where's the life in that?


the heavy rains---


have not sopped the huge crowd gathered at the first big state fair to see Mickey Bump's first major bumped stump speech. The Mickey stands out in the open on stage and doesn't get wet. he raises his hands to raucous applause blocking the view of a giant campaign poster with his face in multicolor with big block sans comic letters above the artist's rendering of his face reading:


Bump: let's get this shit over with. oh was my mic hot? folks it's not cocaine (crowd laughs), not cocaine. so anyway, i'm leading in the polls so i might as well continue. i was reading in the New York Times that the Whitney and the Robot spinoff is getting canceled after one season? for shame, i loved that show. they don't make em like that anymore. why was our youth so much better than our present day? it can't all be nostalgia. why is it that the only thing these flying periodicals with hardline wings report on is when shows are getting canceled, i mean they have polls like predicting when the show is gonna end. that's not fair to the actors and especially the writers. the writers always get shafted. not mine, i pay my writers a pretty penny (crowd laughs), i'm rich by the way, like really rich. i mean you look at Sesame Street, right? why can't they allow unbleeped shit and fuck, i mean parents say it all the time, it's natural to the children. they're allowing shit on tv now, so why not? i mean you go to deviantart, i don't cos i'm not a deviant but you go to deviantart and you see the most scandalous pics of these poor sesame puppets in all sorts of positions and you wonder what's going on with the human mind? on the one hand you have this innocent show that's on the other sparking all of this wild content, like can we please unite these two halves, America? (crowd cheers). i mean we're all thinking it and the characters on the show are all thinking it so why don't we say it? it doesn't do any good if it remains a thought. what's the difference between a thought and a spoken word? wouldn't it be cool if it all just became streamlined? let's cut the bullshit and make it happen. let's do it, i have the means. y'know sometimes a Big Bird's gotta slap a Snuffy right in the nose for actin' the fool. and that's okay to show. show, don't tell. with words i mean, words, i don't condone any violence of any kind. these are the issues America cares about. right, kids?

the three kids from Codrus's mothership are in the crowd. Stew's hair is brown. Mohd looks like a man. Angie points somewhere off far in the distance, like to an unknown sea, or maybe she's pointing at Bump, it's hard to tell in the driving rain.

Angie: mister, are you Batman?

Bump: no but i have the costume in my bedroom. kids love Bump. and y'know women love Bump. your mothers they all love me cos they see that i care for their care. i want them all to look healthy again. but still slim. words are just words, it's actions that activate. i'm here at this silly fair, isn't that proof? it's the shit we have to do, nobody likes it but it has to get done, and i am the man to do it. think of me not as a man but a superman. i mean look at these extra-long corndogs here, they're ridiculous.

Bump puts two very long corndogs into both his ears.

the press corps laughs. Bump can feel his breath in his nose it's so loud.

Bump: this is to keep you nasty unfair press corps out. hahahahahahahaha, but i heard you just now, i can hear you laughing at me.


on tv, Alex Trebek is resting comfortably in his hospital bed being interviewed.

Alex: i mean that shit is cold, but the nurse was hot, so y'know. yeah i'll probably vote for Bump, he's got the one thing that piques my interest: he's new. i don't have any friends but i have tons of followers. friendship is like lemon chicken, good for you but sour.


at her work station, Binny is starting to reconsider. she looks out her window pelted unviewable with droplets and types in her journal:

this will kill me. i can't do this anymore. these computers, all this tech has broken my humanity. i mean i'm working on this little ipad mini and i type in the thing at the top and wait for the blue line to go all the way around or it won't get to the next page. i swear that blue line is alive and mocking me. i mean it starts off great, gets halfway through, and fucking stops. then it just sits there laughing at me. and then the screen goes dark cos i've taken too long and i light up and light it up again and the internet connection is lost and i have to push the button on the side and start over. the keyboard is so small when i look up GATE i type GAFE so then i have to urbandictionary GAFE (and GAPH just to be sure). and i forget to look up GATE. something about scandal or something. oh and i try to type TRANSLATE but google offers up TRAP QUEEN instead before i have a say. i swear i've memorized that song and video when i never had any intention to. oh oh and words that could be words but you're not sure, like i misspell AGREE---or rather the tiny keyboard types AGREA, why did it have to be a maybe-word like AGREA and not certain gibberish?---and i'm like that can't be a word but i google translate it anyway and it means favor in Romanian? all this off a misspelling? wait, type another letter and it tells me it means another foreign word so i look up that foreign word. azedo? colocando? loco. everything i do is loco. i need to think back. i need time to think at all.


at the burger joint, the human is gone but the talking raccoon greets a visitor, a small duck. the raccoon waves his hand over the human's eyes.

Favor the raccoon: hello, anyone home? that's good but don't give up yet. don't be scared, we're here to help, we've traveled a long way. we have a customer. i'm Favor, emphasis on the vor. hey Rubber, how's kicks, how's kicks?

Rubber the duck: not good. i'm learning to rely more on my wings, i'll be flying soon. that's good.

Favor (on the phone): yes, ma'am, i believe i can grill up that egg burger for ya. how do you want the egg for your face, hard or easy? hard tastes better.

on the computer screen meant to take orders on the counter:

a girl in a red Elliott-from-E.T. hoodie is staring foward starting up her first video on her first youtube channel:

hello world! i'm shy but youtube makes me feel my worth. soon i hope to feel my oats. i don't know what to say. i don't know how i'll be different. but i have a lot of ideas. just not the tools to spread them. i'm different. i'm just like you. i guess what i'm presenting here is me. look at me. i'm only me. unique. i'm cute, i think. well you tell me. let's start the conversation. this is my tenth time uploading the same video, i don't know what i'm doing. sorry you can't see my face, probably should untie my ties on my hoodie less tight. who do i think i am, Bill Belichick? hahahahahahahah homan. see my eyes now? see my nose now? hear me breathing? see me breathing? i have to go now, to the bathroom. think of this as a pause in the conversation. i'm gonna get a drink.

the video is weeks old, the only one on her channel. it has 0 views, 0 comments, 0 likes, 0 dislikes, 0 subscribes.

the raccoon and the duck are glued to the screen, their mouths dripping drool, as the blue line of the video goes all the way to the right and stops and repeats again from the left and from the top over and over. the two creatures become especially still when the hoodie girl in the video breathes out her nose.

Monday, August 17, 2015


1. when you first skied down the slopes of love with your SO were you a) bunny hill beginner b) seasoned ski bum c) black diamond risktaker pulling out all manner of trick and inversion?: i was a seasoned bum. i lost my taste for snow after the Frosty thing. when you see a live snowman melt into a puddle and die right before your eyes it changes you. i can never drink water again.

2. if you had a sexal encounter in a taxi and the meter was running, costing you $1 per minute, how much would that cab ride cost you? a penny. but a pretty penny, all nice and shiny and buffed up and rubbed.

3. who has the better sense of humor, you or your SO? my significant other, who doesn't exist. *cries*

4. what is the weirdest part of your nightly bedtime routine? i for one have never believed in sleepwalking. i mean that's just a thing in cartoons, right? no way that's real. *ugh* what? i've just been roused awake. who's shaking my shoulder? Frosty, is that you? whoa, this whole time i've been typing up my TMIT i was really sleepwalking...

5. fill in the blank. i can't stand to be called_______Peewee. i know that was a cool name like back in the 1920s but not now. however, if you do dare call me anything, remember one thing very clearly, i will NEVER EVER want to be called late for dinner.

thanks, Johnny Carson, for all of 5 :)

6. what household item do you use and never put back where it belongs? my root vegetables..........................if you know what i mean

bonus: was the first bed you ever had sex in twin, double, queen, king, or other? as Family Guy teaches, if you have a twin mattress, you're pretty much a failure as a human being.


Friday, August 14, 2015



* but they are roommates.

* Jim Henson is teachin' 'em how to Dougie in his grave.

* OMG i had a rubber ducky when i was a kid. did you? he was my friend. my best friend. my only friend. he talked to me, told me of the horror of having his soul trapped in a mold of plastic, he just wanted to return to the lake of his youth and eat breadcrumbs again, this was Duck Hell. i never bathed again.

* i got a rubber butt..............know what i'm sayin'.

* i walk with a limp..........still recovering from being laid up with my bad ankle. i got a cane.......and an instrument that helps me walk........know what i'm sayin'.

* Elmo will NEVER be First Generation.

* that ducky does not want to play the trumpet, he wants to play the drum machine. can't force arts on the youth, has to come naturally. piano lessons flashbacks anyone?

* look for more of this when the franchise moves to HBO and is rebranded Tha Streetz.


happy weekend

Wednesday, August 12, 2015


Atalan: i stand here on the precipice, on this podium but i don't know why. is it of my own volition? or am i just a cog? am i the good guys? yes i feel that i am, i feel it deep inside, that's my only criteria, the only one i need. but what's the point? if only we could live inside. but we live in the external world that's rigged. i knew that answer. and that one. but he'll always ring in first. it's destiny that Yayraj and Codrus will win. it's a long time coming. we are all desperate for change. real change. but will will they bring?

Alex: YES! he's done it, folks! say hello to everyone's little friend, your new second-in-command...whatever your name is! i'm too old for this shit. he didn't need to play Final Jeopardy but he did it anyway and bet everything and was correct! pandiculation! spelled correctly? well i can't read your handwriting but let's just say it is!

Yayraj takes out a bottle of cerveza he'd been keeping chilled behind his stand and pours it over Ata's head and all over his station.

Yayray: no disrespect, bro, just tradition.

Yay jumps around the studio like a little kid, stretching and yawning at the same time. Alex Trebek tries to pandiculate but hurts his back and is taken out of the studio in a stretcher. but he gives the thumbs-up sign before and the studio audience gasps a sigh of collective relief.

Alex: am i getting older or is the shit getting shittier?

none of this was televised. the drones are malfunctioning.

Codrus (exasperated): this is a travesty! how dare that wannabe from Murica upstage me! does he know who he is? Yatta, start making up for what you did right now, call the drone garage.

Kenyatta: my hand instinctively went for my phone


y'know i actually have no idea how i would help you without my phone. how would that work, contacting other people and other offices and agencies to help you? without a phone. like, smoke signals or something? speaking of, i need a vape.

Codrus: why is it that technology breaks down at exactly the wrong moment?


at the ranch, Erneste slowly helps Cotard up from the floor.

Erneste: my brother brother, how do you feel? in the sleep of sleep, what dreams may not come as the sign that you had a good night's rest.

Cotard: i'm laggy but energized. i don't languish, i relish.

Erneste: not for long, mang. we need you to keep thinking of your mom.

Cotard: oh dear. well. when i was having my mental problems it was all a haze. i would lie to make myself seem sicker for sympathy. but then one day i woke up and i was as sick as i had been purporting. for real. the psychiatrists told me i had a lying problem, that if it wasn't nipped in the bud now it could become pathological. i told them i was just an artist. which was a lie. then. now i fancy myself quite the skilled painter. and i love listening to music so that makes me an artist. i would sit the poor woman down on the table/pool table and explain in excruciating detail what i was going through: that i was crazy all the time, had no friends ever, my future was a farce, and there was no hope. i kept repeating this over and over again for one to convince myself but more importantly to have a built-in excuse why NOTHING would ever work, i was the special case that would be immune to all pills and therapy. my mom learned what to do after awhile. she would just sit there quietly, never saying a word, until i was done with my spiel, fifteen minutes to an hour depending on how much energy i had that day. most of the time i was my standard low-energy. then she would leave. she had heard it all before and realized anything she offered as a suggestion would be immediately shot down by my passion, so it was this eternal standstill. infuriating. made more infuriating by the fact that i clear-eyed and knowingly was orchestrating the whole thing.

Erneste: ah. as the rains come down this is the perfect time to segue to that thing you were talking to me about in the bug. your crying or something?

Cotard: thanks Baba Wawa, this is gonna make me cry. i was at my lowest point. all i would do all day was play the video game Zelda. it was fun. i would lug the two large speakers in the living room over to my cramped bedroom to get maximum sound whenever i slashed my sword or solved a riddle and that riddle-solved jingle would sound. brains and brawn. had to feed my ego loudly cos i sure wasn't feeding myself loudly on campus with those bottom-ramen noodles that always tasted just past the expiration date. this is what i looked forward to whenever i knew i was going home for a weekend from college, not getting married or anything mind you. i continued the tradition after i quit college. or college quit me. the one thing that's always been there for me is imaginary worlds. Link's been a bro.

Erneste: it's better than drowning in beer. or is it? libation doesn't improve hand-eye coordination.

Cotard: but libation is a holy act. when you pour beer over the dead, that's the greatest honor one can receive. the amber of the beer is the color of the sun. video games are the things of the devil's Player 2.

Erneste: my bro, are you still mentally ill?

Cotard: of course but i'm a monk now, it's all been swallowed up with the religion so it's fine.


Ata (thinking so hard it almost comes out out loud): yes, painting, i always wanted to pursue painting, it seems harder than the rest, takes real skill and real patience, can't just be bullshitted with photoshop the way writing can. i was gonna start taking lessons with Cotard before everything blowed up, most depressingly twitter. i believe there are two tracks of knowledge: memorizing wikipedia and a deep internal experience with things that you can't learn with your nose in a tablet. reading is useless, feeling is the final frontier. i'm seeing red on the canvas, i know it's red but it's not red to me until i feel the red dripping through my fingers, until i squeeze the tube and it crusts and hardens before i have time to splash it on my picture of an apple. this is the real instagram. insta is not better just faster.  i wish i would have used the red paint more artistically before it dried. is virtual red still red? i knew that answer of that obscure painting by that Master who was actually van Gogh's pet pigeon in disguise. just wasn't fast enough, Yayray clicked the light first and i still maintain he totally guessed it and it was the luckiest guess in the world. you could tell from his voice and the street slang he used. he don't know. i'm seeing red at this whole Jeopardy! process. but i'm remaining calm. nobody can hear me think, right? nobody knows what i'm really thinking, only i do. and my creator obviously. i'm thinking right now, right? not speaking? it's always calm inside my head, nothing can hurt you when you think, there are no damaging thoughts, it's all just voices in the wilderness. my safe place where i can go forever.


at the burger joint next to The Store. raccoons have been keeping the neighborhood awake all night with their rummaging the large trash bins out back. nobody complains cos this is the only fast-food burger joint in the entire hoity-toity area. Zavier now works the fry station while one of the raccoons takes orders at the register. Zavier once played pro football but something happened at camp. but then who likes camp anyway?

raccoon (with Kenyatta on the other end of the phone): no ma'am, i'm afraid we don't serve the The Thing Burger here. try Denny's.

Kenyatta: thank you. just trying something out. too bad there's no Denny'ss anymore. thanks Codrus.

raccoon (slipping his cute paperboat fast-food hat off to reveal his unusually long handsome springy ears): you okay, my only man? you have the raccoon eyes, i'd recognize them anywhere.

Zavier (drooling): i used to be called Big Z but now the New York papers call me Big Zero. it was an accident. i didn't mean to punch him but i did punch him and doing always gets more press than thinking. should be the other way around. he instigated it but i shouldn't have instigated it. it takes two to tango but more courage to walk away and become the alone wallflower. if it's any consolation my jaw hurts worse. but that's cos i don't brush my teeth nearly as thoroughly as i should. my dentists tell me this all the time but i never listen cos it's too expensive to listen. this is why i'm drooling right now, it's not that i'm stoned and have no future and hate my job here at Burgers "R" Us or whatever this place is called. i wish i were Stoned.

the white drool empties from Big Z's mouth into his paper cup of half soda. he looks to see how the ice is but the ice has turned into crystal clear space ice still contained in the small cup.

it's the lunch rush. the joint is empty.

raccoon: ah, the Milky Way, i'd recognize it anywhere.

Monday, August 10, 2015


soy un perdedor...

1. how do you hang your toilet paper? end over the top or end around the back at the bottom? whichever one is the wrong way. but i make sure my toilet paper is always folded into tips for my guests.

2. do you use a new towel each time you bathe or reuse? i've used the same one towel i've had since before i was born. it's older than me. it's the towel my mom used to swaddle me in after my baby baths. my nostalgia is pungent.

3. do you use a washcloth bathing or soap directly onto your body with no washcloth? no washcloths, too fancy for me. you're not supposed to eat the bar of soap, right? it just looks so good.

4. bra removal: arms out of straps, inch around your body, reach and undo clasp OR contort your arms and reacharound and unclasp? contort. i'm nothing if not a contortionist.

5. rinse/prewash all dishes before loading into the dishwasher or just load? i wash my good china plates against the peeking rocks of the creek below my house on stilts the way my ancestors did. the rushing water is nature's spray arm. i have no more plates.

6. breakfast cereal in bowl first then milk or milk first then cereal? mom didn't want to die getting swallowed up in line trying to get a Cabbage Patch doll for me at Toys "R" Us in the '80s, so she got me the next best thing, Cabbage Patch cereal. i had Gremlins cereal after midnight but nothing happened. i had Donkey Kong cereal but i didn't get a girlfriend that looked like the nice lady on the box the next day at school. i tried to tell our playground babysitter i had it bad for her but she was married or something. i was always into older women. i had some E.T. cereal but wasn't allowed to see Michael Jackson. his lyrics were a little too raw or something. the key was the milk. i ate all these cereals without milk on top. the milk is what makes the cereal sing. the milk activates the magic. the Cabbage Patch cereal box is still creepy tho.

7. squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom or the middle or where? squeezed it from the bottom now i'm still at the bottom. mom taught me about that trick of squeezing it from the bottom, there's always more toothpaste in there but people are in too much of a rush, they think there's no more left but there's always tons more left, you just always gotta be squeezing that bottom. i use that philosophy in bed, too. i've had the same one tube of toothpaste since before i was born, there's STILL some more paste at the bottom there.

8. do you put condoms on your lover or does he put it on himself? himself but he insists on making balloon animals with them first.

9. condom disposal: in the garbage bin or flush down the toilet? we gather round the toilet bowl and have an official funeral ceremony like we do with our beloved fish.

bonus: write your own bonus question and tell us in intimate detail about you or one of your habits:

which habit of yours is breaking you? i tend to exaggerate. it's the nature of blogging. i can't help it, i'm a writer, i live in the fantastic, anything to combat the boredom. i'm just an ordinary kid. i just want to be loved and not judged like everyone else. despite how i look i'm just like you. truth is, something did happen to me when i ate the Gremlins cereal after midnight. it's not my fault, why do they call it midnight snack, then, huh? it's confusing. anyway, let's just say that i now have a rad mohawk.


Friday, August 7, 2015



* Johnny (drops and wraps his towel around his neck): i'm completely naked here on stage. i'm fucking Method.

* reporter: where did the whole patting-each-other-on-the-butt thing come from?
player: Ancient Roman stolen from Ancient Greek, players back then had notoriously bad eyesight, it was meant to be a high five with the hands. the high five wouldn't be invented until years later by a secret cabal of volleyball players on the crazy west coast...

* reporter: would you consider yourself a baller?
player: too early for that term.

* reporter: where are the other players?
player: i'm the only one. this is the JV.
reporter: do you mind having a woman here with you?
player: i'm shy. normally it's just me and mommy. she'll be here any minute with my juice box and orange slices. wanna carpool? you gotta pay for gas, though, there's an energy crisis.

* reporter: what's the deal with your switch hitter?
player: he bats .400 with the right and .399 with the left. he's an invaluable asset to this team. without him we'd be relegated to JV.

* reporter: i thought golf was the game of inches.
player: i have a small penis.
reporter: it appears you've recovered from your knee operation.
player: yes but that's not the problem.

* reporter: do you appreciate the fans?
player: absolutely. i use their money to get me the drugs i need to continue putting on a show for them.

* reporter: what brand of catcher's mitt is that?
player: that's not a catcher's mitt, it's my face.
reporter: your name is Peewee?
player: they said i was the greatest tee-ball player they had ever seen.

* reporter: where do you want to be traded?
player: anywhere i can expose my talents.
reporter: you're not big but you're known for your speed.
player: yes, i have the record: half a second.

* Betty White enters the shower and drops and flings her towel.
Betty: i'm Method, too.
Johnny: i love acting.
Betty: so why do they call it Head & Shoulders?
Johnny shows her.
Betty: ohhhhh, that's why.

* don't worry, Kermy and Miss Piggy gon be okay. hey, if all else fails: threesome, that's always helped me.

happy weekend


Wednesday, August 5, 2015


flippin' between channels

Atalan at the lanes.

Atalan: i love coming here and dunking my head under. i can escape this crazy world. until you need a breath again to survive. that is so cruel. can't escape the connection. perhaps it's my namesake but i feel more comfortable in the water than on land. i am so bummed i wasn't able to continue with the free-throws thing, the next locale would have been in the middle of the ocean, that would've been bonkers. but it seems the good-intentioned always leads to ruin. coming together, uniting, comes at a price. if it's not interesting, it won't get the ratings and will be dropped like anything else. the medium is the message and the message is the tv show. but enough of this edgy blabber, i'm here to show off my silly side. time for some butt bubbles.

Atalan jumps into his lane, making sure to always stay in it, and contemplates the show in a few hours. time stands still underwater, and you tend to think serious thoughts, you contemplate cos you're seeing a whole blue perspective, it's not really the time for a fart joke. not even the silly foam duck webbed-foot flipper paddles that crowd the bottom of the pool is good for a long chuckle, just a short one before more air is needed.

before Ata can make his first reverse-dolphin-kick-flip-pushoff-turn manuever at the wall of his first lap,


Atalan: i'm tired of thinking for myself. i feel my talents are being put to waste. what if i lose? what then? i wish a businessman in a nice suit would swoop down and offer me an offer i couldn't refuse cos it would be my only offer. i want someone else to tell me what my life is for.

JUST THEN Ata sees what seems to be a bulky husky haughty man with square shoulders and a stern maw and the weirdest wet hair extend his hand where he holds a retro phone with a coil cord out to Ata. the cord is a bit off as it seems to have a mind of its own and slithers out past where you would think it could go without an extension cord.

all of this is of course happening underwater


on their phones of course

Kenyatta: girl i'm speaking to you with just the speaker, that's all that's left of my phone. did you get all that? the lion spirit? could be useful down the line. spirits are suckers of drama. gods tend to be grandiose. wait, which one am i speaking to?

Binny: the one that doesn't call trouble.

Kenyatta (wet): just call me for dinner. man o man i love to eat even more now, i don't take it for granted, no more twig and berries for me. yeah i'll eat anything to get my butt all nice and big, it's getting more attention than me.

Binny: so each word we come across at work or at play we are to learn, look up the wiki article and in the wiktionary, see if there are any attendant youtube videos, look it up on the map, and memorize. and then we are to deconstruct each letter of the word to see if it'll form other shorter words, put those through the ringer, look up the urbandicitonary definition, on google type "means" after the word and see what pops up, go to google translate to see if it makes more sense as a foreign word, and finally write it down on a piece of paper in case we forget it. Codrus says there is so much more paper in the world now that everybody does everything online.

Kenyatta: that's why i became a workaholic, eliminated one whole half of the work i have to do.

Binny: Quinny and i are scared of the market. whenever we go get groceries on Wednesdays we make sure to deliberately not look at The Store sign as we enter or any other writing on shelf cans, pasta pouches, gum packets, 2-in-1 mop buckets, hammocks, Solstice cards, tulip displays, farm-fresh family food, illegal drinks, cigarettes both under and over glass, frozen meat, liquid eggs, chips and crackers, dried-out cereal and dry cereal, big water jugs, periodicals at checkout, not even cool designs on customers' T shirts for fear of clever words being underneath. if we happen to glance and catch a word we pray to god that we happen to forget it. and large awkward cardboard beefcake musclemen trying to sell us the latest enlightened unisex flavored mineral water, that's the hardest one. we simply steer clear of the foreign food aisle, that would be a nightmare. we don't want to learn any new words or new phrases for food and drink cos that's just more work for us.

Kenyatta: you're saving the rainforests, dear, proud o' u. catch you later, the preliminaries are about to start, the lights have been hushed.

Binny: yes, oatmeal, too. and the coffee always with those beautiful Swedish brand names. it's such a shame, i hear Swedish spoken more than english, the head grocer is from Sweden, headed the only Swedish branch, came back here cos business was bad, they wanted to hear more english, but i can't get involved, i have to shy away and not look, whatever you do, DON'T LOOK AT LABELS. i'm too busy learning world culture to get cultured with a sample of cultured Swedish yogurt.


Alex: the category is "F"UCK THIS HOLE THING.

Yayray: 100, keep it 100

Ata: inb4 my signal thing is bad, i can't lock in.

Alex: this F is a group of folk who take liking a tv show WAY too far.

Yayray: what are freaks, fans, con booth people, fandom, folk

Alex: we'll accept any of those but watch your language.

Yayray: i fucking hate nerds.

Ata: brah-

Yayray: well no, i hate what nerds have become. a nerd used to be cool and beat-up, now it's the nerd- industrial complex.

Alex: is that like the prom-industrial complex? i didn't go to prom, have always been a fan of the prom.

Yayray: i don't hate the Player 1 or the Player 2, i hate the system. fuck the system. please get rid of all the online, all the messageboards, the events and the forums for people to pay for something and then that gives them the right to force the author of that something to write it exactly as they say.

Ata: that's why i don't have original thoughts anymore. i have all sorts of ideas for sci-fi/fantasy miniseries in my mind but i realize the end result will be having to cater to a group of seven-year-olds who shouldn't even be watching this mature content instead of my original origin story. and worst of all i'll have to speak to these children on twitter.

Alex: will you be my Player 2? that's what i would have said to my prom date.

Yayray: let's make it a true Daily Double. if i get the next one wrong, i forfeit my 100 to Ata.

Ata: i'm looking at my tally board at my station and it doesn't seem to be working. it just registers nothing. 0. it's black not bright blue. i am unable to accept money.

Alex: for 500: this is where and when doughnut holes were first invented.

Yayray: Kepler about a million years ago give or take a parsec. in the original Branson at a hotel made of Ancient Egyptian stone. the real Ancient Egyptians. who were really aliens. they took over their bodies. this is where they are originally from.

Ata: i knew that.

at Final Jeopardy, Ata tries to manuever his magic light pen to write his answer but his screen goes blank. but it's not just him this time. Bump's majestic face takes over the transmission as Codrus, who was secretly in the darkened audience next to Kenyatta, was about to get up and announce himself and clap one time to wish everyone good luck on this most momentous of occasions to determine the right-hand man of a philosophy that will drive humanity for eons and aeons to come.

Mickey Bump glows, his moneyed teeth are never shown, he seems to be frowning all the time but it's just his resting face, confident and steady, a yellow radiance steadily emanates from that most beautiful mane of flowing hair of his that seems to draw everyone from what they are doing to him. he looks like a lion. the look on Codrus's face says it all: he is not amused.

Wolf: alright, let's get this shit over with. welcome to the first debate.

Bump: thank you, Tiger. you're the moderator, right? i know i slipped under the door an envelope for someone this morning. there are so many unused envelopes in the world now. have you noticed that America's name doesn't get mentioned when it comes to world events anymore? i'm about to change all that.

Codrus: you defy me, little blond man?

Kenyatta: chill, dude, get some water, i know i'm not your favorite person right now but i see it from both sides. he'll do all the damage himself.

Codrus: how did he manage this? i have all the drones.

Kenyatta: he made a phone call.

Monday, August 3, 2015


1. why have you not done that thing you've been dreaming about for so long? cos then it wouldn't be a dream, it'd be a reality and reality sucks. btw my dream is to be the paper merchant of a small chain of stationery shops stocked with perfumed stationery. i want to get people writing letters again. and then we'll do the whole Lay's thing where fans send in what type of smell they want next on the paper. currently our biscuits-and-gravy paper is selling like hotcakes. hotcakes is our next smell. i'm coming for you, David Brent.

2. would you take advice from a porn star? if yes, what type? yes, from Sasha Grey, my all-time favorite. i just want to write/be in a cool indie atmospheric cinema verite like The Girlfriend Experience. when i ask for a GE, most think i'm talking about electricity. i am but not the kind they think.

3. what is the sexiest thing about your boss? that he's me. i move up the corporate ladder every night with my boss. hehe, we're under the covers together right now...

4. name something you need for a foursome (and i'm not talking about golf): three gilfs and i'm set. i slowly sexily fold out that beige folding table and get to business. we start off with a little fourplay foreplay and then right into the bridge boinking before ending with the 'core canasta copulation.

5. what is the brand of condoms currently at home or on your person? the brand where you tie the ribbon around your penis to keep it small i mean snug. love 'em, so cute.

bonus: tell us a sex act/behavior you simply will not do. why? trees. i love trees. i hug trees. and i smoke tree. but...y'know...we're just friends.