Friday, January 29, 2016



* 111: Illuminati Just Starting Out

* postnuclear nuisances suck, but if you have a picnic basket you can at least get rid of the bear.

* narrator: Vault Boy, what are you doing? why aren't you shooting the enemy soldier at the location we've specified for you will be a 100% success rate?
Vault Boy: i'm lookin' at those magnificent hearts underwear he's got on. hey, enemy soldier, where'd you get those snazzy shorts?
enemy soldier: Macy's.
Vault Boy: haven't worn clean underwear since before the War...

Vault Boy: relax, it's root beer.

* enemy policeman: hey sonny, what's written on your bag there? LOOT?
Vault Boy: TOOL, TOOL! i'm a huge fan. best music videos around. Tool and Bjork, that's the list.

* child: you stole my candy and comic book!
Vault Boy: they're both bad for you, kid.
old woman: you stole my dentures!
Vault Boy: it's fun to eat steak through a straw.
injured soldier: you stole my crutch!
Vault Boy: your leg will grow back. with all this radiation around, none of us are humans anymore.

* Vault Boy: i have an extra eye.
narrator: that's good, Vault Boy, you're learning. the third eye, the sixth sense, you're growing spiritually.
Vault Boy: no, the eye is floating above my head.
narrator: oh. you're crazy then.

* Vault Boy: i'm not a good sniper.
narrator: just takes practice. and for you to turn cold.
Vault Boy: is there anywhere else to practice besides this completely barren desert? it's kinda hard when you have to hide behind the one small cactus here. are there any buildings?
narrator: what about your Vault?
Vault Boy: i don't like to take my work home with me.


happy weekend

Wednesday, January 27, 2016


the door...........................was locked all along.

Cotard: i can't get to my mother. but i can see her. she's slumped over on the bed, wrapped too neatly in her covers, forever, never to move again the darling. i want to be with her, but not like this. i want to comfort her and hug her forever but i don't want to see her. if i stop waiting, the hours will stop, too. i'll be locked in a blissful state of timelessness.

Cotard looks through the tiny peephole of the doorknob. it's dark so you can't see anything. he takes out a pebble from his invisible robe but decides against ingesting it. instead he places the pebble to cover the hole. light breaks but you still can't actually see the hole.

Cotard: never knew where that thin slanted metal key that looked like a bent lead pipe that opened that room was, Mama hid it well and keep the secret to her grave. funny cos there never seemed to be anything between us. we were connected, no secrets, that's what familia is. of all the things i'll remember, the most were the times i could deeply feel her love of me, it emananted from her lips like no love ever before or since. we were one human being. when i scratched she itched, and scratched. when she saw me ram my head into that couch with the metal buttons pretending to be Super Grover, she did that unique thing Spanish mothers do when they cry eghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh and breathe inward hastily through their slack tongue. no, no, that was just her, uniquely. that was my mom. fuck Sesame Street. and her and finding things, finding solutions. she was the practical one, Dad the intellectual. i took after Dad but i had my mom's face. and her deep-seated humble religion despite my forays into self-righteous smart. i absorbed both and adsorbed none, the only film left was the one i played out in my head. even in her old age, she infirmly one-upped her son in the street-smarts department, one last time to rub my nose in it. my ipad mini suddenly faded to black. at the worst time. right when i was in the middle of the church bake sale. without those profits from the pandan cakes i make when i'm bored i can't keep living in the Sanctuary. it's not the electricity, it's the need for brand-new lead pipes. don't drink the water. my pandan cakes are special, they're both lime AND strawberry. i was pissed off for the last time, my energy had run out. i gave up. for the last time. gave up my dreams. died. but Mama Fuerza kicked me out of her bed and suggested that it was the white wire, it had been chewed to bits by the cats. and her tablet and the same white wire with the white bulb, perhaps it could work. it did!

Fuerza: see? mama, mama.

Cotard: and this woman knows nothing of computers. that was Dad. her love saw her through. always.

Cotard returns to the ballroom where Fuerza is eternally slipping up and down on the spot.

Cotard: rub me in it, dear madre, rub me in your glory. o that i could hear you wail EGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH one more time.

Cotard kneels down before the wet spot and lays his head for a nap.

Cotard: i need a nap date.

but instead the still water runs deep and Cotard's head falls through what he thought would be a pillow into more of a dunking of his head. his tongue overmoistens with unexpected dark water and shrinks like a sponge. Cotard is now fully up and awake.

Cotard: she's always knowing what's best for me.


on the screens...........somewhere: Camera Guy: what are you doing now?
Donald Rumsfeld: app. and not the ones at TGI Friday's senior menu. i decided to take an ancient game out of antiquity and introduce it to millennials. it's like solitaire but you use two decks. cool, huh?
Camera Guy: so this is how you're retiring? after all you've done, it's just about cards now?
Donald Rumsfeld: sure, everything else in the world is too complicated. i like things simple and to the point. cards. cards are comforting. i'll be playing cards on my porch when the world burns.


Codrus is now a ten-year-old boy. the morning light hits his eyelids and fries his eyelashes. the boy is very distrusting, more like a feral animal, as he negotiates the sandy terrain. his heart is pumping furiously, and leaks of gold begin spilling out his many pores. the white even sands have since become stained and are now more brown and red and dusty in his presence. he retreats to his pile of rocks and begins stacking them into various people. Angie, Mohd, and Stew approach him.

Angie: hello, little boy, wanna play?

Codrus: my, someone, told me not to talk to strangers.

Mohd: that's good policy.

Stew: how's it feel to be on the other side of the age gap? you can't boss us around anymore just cos you're taller. i mean, yeah, i wish somebody had taught me about


Stew: but don't worry, we'll treat you harmless. take our buckets and shovels, like the oceanwater it's all free. we learned compassion somewhere. we recognize your pint size and realize you are a defenseless animal, we don't take pleasure in hoarding our height over you, we'll take care of you.

Codrus hisses and jumps in the middle of his circle of stones. he's leaking oil constantly but he manages to quickly arrange his stones into a stone mama wearing a leaf wreath, a stone dada wearing a crown, and a stone sister wearing a lowcut dress and tiara.

Angie: that's good craftsmanship. they look so realistic.

Mohd: and that cloud of smoke that was going on while you were working, it shows. everything is so polished, no rough edges in sight.

Stew: i've seen better stuff on youtube. it just goes to show that quality has nothing to do with how large your audience is. i swear fame has nothing to do with justice.

Codrus: *with an official voice* before you is Me, of the Royal House of Stone, uh, Henge. our family started everything, we were the first humans, the first humans with magic anyway. that's my dad, i'm SECOND-in-line to the throne cos of my stupid sister who brushes her pony's hair more than hers, and my beautiful mom, only learned of that word recently. we've always been hanging out. there's no hole to fill as you can see, the circle is quite complete.

Angie: are you serious, kid? where's your real mommy?

Codrus: i know your tricks. i was told never to talk to outsiders, they'll confuse you with their questions. yes, yes, don't talk to nobody ever again, they're scary. let no one in, everyone out there is trying to have what we have, they're trying to infiltrate our harmony. trust no one. not even yourself. only rely on yourself. hate others, they always lie. only you know if you're lying to yourself. only when you're completely alone will you feel it. nirvana comes only to the lonely. art isn't pain, pain is art. those who are fat can never know the motivation of those who are skinny. which is ironic. that IS my mommy! i know me better than any else selves. i've only ever known myself...

Mohd turns the boy around and looks directly into his eyes made hard by the constant glassy winds.

Mohd: whoa, he's serious. his heartbeat is calm for being so racing. you know what they say about children, they believe, they're the true believers.

Stew takes a gander at the boy as well.

Stew: yep yep yep yep yep, boy's got that look i had as a child after a few pints in me, that malaise glaze after buying that overpriced video game, bargaining it down to 50 bucks and celebrating with a box of fruit punch, the good kind of punch, and some hard-as-stone animal crackers. they never seemed to serve fruit punch at the bars in my youth. shame, always had the hair color for it. my childhood was something.

Codrus doubles over in pain. the heart pumping gold is fast and furious and coming out of his chest, literally. Codrus steadies his mind but it's like his string of fate, a wire, has been cut. he tries with all his might and Stone drugs in him to reshape his bleeding heart. he molds it back with his mind into more of a manageable ball of mass. the mass grows veins and soon becomes a brain which he replaces with his own.

Codrus: mind of matter.

with that, Codrus poofs back to his old self again.

Codrus: hahahahahahahahahahaha. you can't kill a god that easily!

Codrus spins his finger at the sandcastle he was working on and traps his three former children inside.

Codrus: three bums trapped in a small space.

the three bums: we're used to it.

the clouds above turn green and begin chirping. it appears they are just moving with the tide in the sky but they are in fact sprouting wings and flying away. Angie, Mohd, and Stew transform back into Sid, Glidden, and the cigarette-smoking man. the cigarette-smoking man has to cut a piece of his lit cigarette every so often with his Scissors cos the cigarette never lessens into ash with each drag.

Glidden: i thought my pink hair would be joyous for him. kids don't like clowns?

Sid is drinking from a pint glass.

Codrus: you, you're too young to drink. and you, drop your cigarette butts somewhere else or help clean up my beach. get your butts outta here!

Codrus floods the castle by breaking the dam and drawbridge and letting in all the moatwater.

Codrus: just call this my last act of government malfeasance.

the three don't drown in the bad water but they can't communicate with each other underwater, either. they all point up and surface.

the three bums: we really got to work on that. we're surfers after all.

a dripping cigarette-smoking man: wait, let me try something.

CSM turns Codrus around and looks deep into his eyes.

CSM: who's your daddy?

Codrus points to the stone father.

CSM: fascinating. adult. he's an adult. he's trying to adult anyway. he's not lying, i can see his heart pumping out of his chest, literally. it's all in his head. it's viciously pumping but in a very truthful way. he would pass a lie-detector test. it's more that his heart and mind are about to explode. too much pressure. it's not good to be king.

Codrus starts to rap and point his fingers downward:
you got nothin' on me
i'm a different class of villainy
what you think you see
you don't see
you'll never see me
cos i am free
you can't pin my work on this or that
i am new, that's a fact
you debate, you contract
i contemplate like a brat
reduce me and you reduce you, fool
you box in, i box out
you don't know what i'm about
you will smile, i will pout
i'm angry for the sake of it
i complain cos there're stakes in that
i'm a different class of villainy
(and i am classy)
beyond good and evil and psychiatry
it's not that i want to see the world end
but how 'bout we just start all over again?

liquid gold streams out of Codrus's ears, nose, and throat. he's making a mess on stage.

Codrus: mac 'n cheese, my favorite. just like Mom used to make.

when the liquid spill reaches his eyes, Codrus is transported to his private movie theatre where also sits Cotard and Fuerza.

Fuerza: let's sit in the middle row. not too close, not too far.

Codrus: what was i saying?

Codrus is on screen. literally. he's in the movie playing on the screen right now.

Fuerza: you were probably in the middle of a rant, mijo.

Codrus: why you calling me mijo?

Fuerza: everyone's my son. it's a mommy thing. you take care of your son and your son's friends. you'll learn when you become a mother.

Codrus: yes, i remember now, i invented, i invented everything. i was in the middle of my speech. i was angry but i forget why for. inflamed in fact. something about math, the uselessness of it. yes, i was showing a pie chart divided up into sections, showing this graph to dispel graph theory. there is no perfect graph, no claw-free graph, there is always a claw, didn't you watch Inspector Gadget when you were a kid? my sister always had it on. the brute-force search takes brute force. proof by exhaustion is exhausting. there is no mathematical star, i am the only star, i make the stars. and then something happened, something always does, and i got mad. i don't remember the beginning, or the middle, but i do remember the end, we always remember the end. i ended with a declaration, i turned around and said to...

at this precise moment Cotard joins Codrus up on film. Cotard is right at the end of his rant, and the two men say and stay in unison as they point pointedly at Fuerza:

if you remember

Binny: i swear these ipad minis. i just don't get it. that was the one thing that struck me when i finally got mine. the fact that you needed to power them up constantly. that was the stupidest thing in the world. why couldn't they just work? run on free energy, the same energy of the universe that fuels our cars and craft. do we want to be beholden to foreign electricity?

Wolf: hi guys, what's happening? been talking heavily with Baleen on insta again. they call me the Gram Grandpa now. he's not doing well, not in a good place. whatever he was high on before, be it cocaine, heroin, the Stones, or life, it's over. crashed. always seem to crash eventually. he's back to being depressed. he's lonely again.

if you remember one thing, one damn thing about me and all of my life living, when you remember me, when you see my face in your dreams, you remember that i hated my life. in fact, i hated life. yeah, yeah, i hated the concept of life. you inscribe that on my tombstone. and leave the dates off.

Cotard sheds tears which flow upward. the fluid out of Codrus's tear ducts is dust dribbling out and disappearing.

Fuerza: boys, boys, stop arguing, stop talking over one another, i can't understand either one.

Monday, January 25, 2016


or did they? another episode tonight!

1. when did you last sing a love song? what song? did you sing it to someone? the Toni Braxton biopic's trailer's got me singing "Another Sad Love Song" when i bake apple pies by the window sill. a little birdie lands on the sill and says i'm a little pitchy. always loved Toni Braxton, she deals in heartache, she ain't like those others, she deals in pain.

2. how do you want to spend a special day with your lover? stopping the venal conspiracy of a few elite men taking over America then the world. ISIS, Russia: smokescreens. Roswell: smokescreen. using the energy of the universe as fuel, scoop scars, the whole deal. and then afterwards we have some scoops of Baskin-Robbins mint chocolate chip.

3. what is the ideal number of texts/calls a couple should exchange in one day? why? the Mulder-to-Scully plan, you text one time a day just to let them know you're still alive, still breathing.

4. with regards to work, what do you enjoy doing again and again? getting abducted by aliens. each time i see the face more clearly. i'm different from the others in my rehab circle, i don't get the little green or grey men, i get abducted by one short balding man each time who looks like the top pic above. have you dreamt that man? yeah, me, too. that's what God looks like. God is going bald, that explains so much. or it could be mental conditioning, social engineering, dream manipulation by the government secretly putting fat into our sodas. classical conditioning was started by the Russians. just sayin'.

5. are you on track with your work career? are you where you want to be with education, training, position? ever since i could dream i've wanted to be a pop star. my best mates Punch and Judy went on to become a nurse and Air Force pilot, respectively, but i instead opted to stay in my basement my whole life with a microphone in my face eating apple pies that tasted like sawdust. one day i'll earn that bird's approval.

6. what do you want to avoid in your job/career? peaking too soon. i want my first #1 single to come when i'm 100 years old so i'm mature enough to handle it.

7. money---do you have enough? as long as i have enough money to care for my cats, i'm good. and like maybe one indulgence per week, one KFC Nashville Hot Chicken a week, the tenders with the pickles. biscuit game buttery. when i can't eat well i can at least watch Daym Drops on youtube.

8. on Valentine's Day do you usually buy your loved one a romantic gift or a practical, usable gift? both. the Red String of Fate..................................which can also be used for shibari.

9. are you being paid fairly? yes seeing as i do nothing.

10. what's the most money you've ever given away? one million dollars, loan to Trump.

bonus: what's the biggest personal change you've ever made? the day i said fuck it and shaved my head. i felt free for the first time in my life. i started getting into religion again, i watched Bill Maher religiously. i started getting into politics again, 24/7 with 24.


Friday, January 22, 2016



* E=mc2, formula for beer, right?

* Fred: there's a lotta bush gonna be sold!
Barney: so we're at the bar right now, right? not the prostitution den? it's just i don't want to get on Betty's bad side.

* Barney: 5 o'clock. quitting time.
Fred: there's a quitting time? the afterwork rush is upon us. let's get behind the bar and serve these people.
Barney: but why do we have to do this?
Fred: just go with it.

* Barney: the beer business is hard work. got a smoke?
Fred: here you go, one of these cigarettes is like smoking 20 of these cigarettes.

* Mr. Slate enters. Fred and Barney dress up in disguises.
Fred: what kind of beer, sir?
Mr. Slate: um, you're clearly not women, you're just affecting really weird, halfhearted accents.

* Barney: how about some raises for your key men? here, have some Busch, stranger, it'll do you good. don't worry, it's not spiked.

* magical woman's hand appears above and rubs Mr. Slate's head.
Mr. Slate: wow, you have a really seductive voice. but i'm married.
woman's hand: i know, i'm your wife!
Mr. Slate: oh.

* Barney: have some more Busch, stranger, it'll do you good. this one is spiked.

* Mr. Slate: Fred, Barney, don't be late tomorrow morning!
Fred: but sir, why did you stick around if you knew all along?
Mr. Slate: for the handjob.

* Fred: *trademark laugh* Busch is the best!
Barney: i don't know, he seems kind of low-energy to me.

* Fred throws the bird like a dart.
dart bird: you do realize i'm a baby pterodactyl, right? i'm gonna grow up and eat you. karma is a new concept in these times but it's still a bitch.


happy weekend

Monday, January 18, 2016


we are all special snowflakes. we are all different, that's what makes us all the same...

1. what are your sexual strengths and weaknesses? i'm a good sucker. i suck.

2. as a couple, what are your sexual strengths and weaknesses? i'm not a couple but i've been called a couple of things in my time. for the purposes of this question let's say i married someone. online. in a MMORPG. not saying i did, just saying for the sake of saying. it's like say Mario is El Chapo, Kate del Castillo is the Princess, and Sean Penn is Bowser. a lot of pipe was involved. would i do it? for Kate del Castillo, yes, she's adventurous. i'm not saying when Sean Penn mugs to the camera without makeup he looks like Bowser...

3. how do you make intimacy a priority in a relationship? send it through Priority Mail. the Post Office still exists, right?

4. how has your sex life changed in the last five years? no change. though i've found i'm a better overall typer, i make less typos which is good cos when you mean to type "nice shot" on instagram but type "neverending shit", you start to lose followers.


5. has blogging helped your sex life? how? tricky. blogging for me has always teetered on the edge. i look back on all that i've written over the years, the sheer volume of it, and wonder if any of it MEANS anything in the end. or is it all destined for the ether. i have met some awesomesauce folk through it, though, that's for sure. and some saucy folk. and some sauced folk.

bonus: has loneliness or emotional hunger ever caused you to "fall in love"?: what is love if not loneliness? what are emotions if not cancer-causing bacon burgers? what is flying if not falling? this sounds less lame when put to music. unfortunately my electric guitar's in the shop. along with my ipad mini. it's gonna come back as an ipad guitar with the naked fretboard and the ipad screen as the sound hole and strings, like that dude from Muse.


Friday, January 15, 2016



* narrator: don't stick out your tongue, Vault Boy, that's not falling malt balls!

* narrator: the fallout will turn ordinary citizens into decrepit rotting beings who've lost their ability to reason.
Vault Boy: politicians.
narrator: they will be without common manners and quick to anger.
Vault Boy: voters.

* narrator: enthusiasm will only take you so far. do you know the percentage chance of shooting that zombie?
Vault Boy: yeah, 100%, but i don't feel like shooting that zombie today. from now on, please address me as Vault Emo Boy.

* narrator: let's try that again.
Vault Boy: nobody understands me. i don't care about this stupid video game. holy fuck, did i just come back from the dead?! now REALLY nobody understands me.
narrator: tell you what, finish the rest of these promos and i'll give you Lazarus's number.

* narrator: watch your penis there, Vault Boy, there may be a Vault Girl...

* Vault Boy: i'm a fuckin' underground ninja.
huge mutant rats attack Vault Boy.
Vault Boy: why, Master Splinter, why?

* Vault Boy balances himself above with his finger plugging the mouth of the bottle.
Vault Boy: this is my yoga. this is also how i avoid becoming an alcoholic.

* Vault Boy assaults an unsuspecting dreamer.
unsuspecting dreamer: i am you sleeping! you just killed yourself.
Vault Boy: that's deep. but this is all a dream, right?
unsuspecting dreamer: yes. now go out there and live your dreams!


happy weekend

Wednesday, January 13, 2016



Codrus: it's gonna get real sad.

Yayray kicks up the white sand and crouches in a footballer lineman's position ready to strike one-punch. the green bird tries to chirp around him.

Yayray: ain't got no time for bird sex. take care of this fool and my virgins await haha.

Codrus: ah but you see that's where i got you by the scrotum. i've already won cos i know your motivation. you wanna get neck. you want pussy in cars like any young man do. it takes down the most powerful of human male. don't matter how much wealth you attain by avoiding smarting by smartly keeping conservative in your gambles and never uttering an untoward word, your conservative values will break your dam once that hot actress starts paying attention to you out of the blue. the more famous the actress the heavier the flow of your cum river. i mean what's the point if you don't get something for all your hard work, right?

Yayray: that is why El Chapo did it, ultimately. i'm young but i get it. i've sat on my own balls before. i had to grow up fast unfortunately.

Codrus: El Chapo? *looks down* ah yes, i get it now. it's cute to know that alternate dimensions are carrying on without me. but not for long.

Yayray: i represent all the anger of the world, all the unfair slights, undeserved deaths, and virgins like me who were never allowed to shine. all the injustice that was never overturned. it all burns into a giant fireball which i embody. i spit out the fires of heaven onto you, foul demon!

Yayray tranforms into a giant red crab with scary sharp super pincers. his fire eyes belie the cute sputtering he does with his many frilly legs along the seashore.

Yayray: i can see the entire fight in my fire eyes. it's already already happened. i know his weak spot. this is for you, aunties, video games weren't a waste of time, they saved my afterlife.

Yayray boxes right, left, and right again onto Codrus's vulnerable chest. all 10 times. and 100 more, each time the flame coming out of his claw grows steadier, surer, and purple when he really gets frustrated and fatigable. each time Codrus simply shapes his own blocking fist into the shape of the perfect hole for Yayray's stroke, in and out, in and out perfectly.

Yayray: i'm taking the gloves off!

Codrus: you ain't got no gloves, son. what, you got little red claw-shaped gloves on ya? that would be cute. and videogamey. look at that perfect symmetrical fit, no matter where you go directionally i have the answer counterbalanceally. i'll keep this particular poetry from the Dead Writer, it was just too good!

Yayray: what's the matter? your weak spot moved?

Yayray looks up to meet Codrus's powerful gaze. bad mistake. Yayraj immediately clutches his chest, with his pincers so it hurts doubly, as a heart attack kills him again.

Codrus: what's matter? you can't attack my heart. nobody can touch my heart. my heart is gold, literally. i only give my heart away to a very special least for now. when i leave it, you'll know.

Yayray: where am i?

Codrus: same place, i control where folk go now and i haven't designed the room yet. there's a huge backlog of people and aliens i put in a space cube that're just there in suspended animation, like a casting-call cattle-call in a warehouse, looking for a ton of dark-haired dancers for the next Grease. you'll see a white film forming on your eyes.

Yayray (weakly): yeah...

Codrus: that's what everyone sees when they see the light. this film is blocking all your petulant anger over earth matters, dousing your eyes like a summer shower across a campfire. i know, mom always said i was a wet blanket. you'll find yourself calming now and not a moment too soon, all your misguided erratic steam and misplaced rage would have taken out a few solar systems in a blaze of selfish inglory. do you play for the NFL or something?

Yayray: i wish i could have. i wish i could have done a lot of things. i wish i had a billion dollars so i could live the life. i wish i had a girlfriend. sure it's pure sex but now that i'm on this other side i would have cherished a good woman by my side, IM'd her, i would have hugged her side when she cried and thanked her for cooking our oxtails and offered to do the dishes by hand with the sweat-stained towel around my forehead. and afterwards we'd have a conversation that was half-profound and half-silly. i'm young but i understood all that, i knew that that was what was what. i'm fading...

Codrus: embrace that you are Yayraj...

Yayray: you know i still can't talk to my folks. my aunties are too busy with their gadgets.

Binny: we've decided to just make our own homemade churros.

Quinny: you know when you look something up online? like Vietnamese. it gives you places of Vietnamese food, not the Vietnamese people. but what's the point of food if you can't share it with people? what are you eating for? oh i miss people. i miss when we had people.

Yayray: and my grandmama remains strangely silent.

Codrus: you're not at her level yet. she was so sickingly good she is literally made of stars. she could talk to you but what would you two talk about? she is of a past age.

Yayray: i want some advice. from any -man who came to earth, lived another culture on mars, had a pet spider. i understand that now, parents are just helping, they do know more simply because they lived longer, it's annoying but true. and changing customs don't affect the basic core of humanity, they don't chip away at what we all want, what we all deserve, what we all think we deserve. i want to have it easy for once...

Codrus holds up the Dragon Balls which were scattered but have come and fallen together quite conveniently next to each other in a circle artfully indenting the pristine white sand of this place.

Codrus (spinning them on the sand by twirling his finger): these are the only powerballs you need. my version of them. the lottery is a scam, after taxes and dead relatives and live relatives which end up dead, you're left worse off. stoned. another in the long line of life disappointments which begins and ends with God with Santa in the middle.

Yayray: i feel truly lonely for the first time. i can't talk to the universe anymore. there's nowhere to turn. i reach for the void to see if it wants to chat, even chaturbate. but it remains silent as always. it's not cool to play hard-to-get. not anymore. surely you have something to say, void. and don't call me Shirley. my name is Yay...raj. i wish there were celestial beings my age, i want to play...

Yayray's crab-shell body turns pale opaque spiritless white as his blood turns inward. his penis shrivels up and disintegrates. and he tips over and stays upside-down as he begins to float away into the sky.

Codrus: there are no second lives in politics. right Bump mah boy. and politics is a lot like life, just more glorified.

Cotard sees that there's a floating turret hovering on the hill.

Cotard: i'm excited i'll be able to see the Surf Club again! i can sense the Shack but i can't see it, it's just off my range of vision. but i sees the hill, that's good, that's enough, patience for the other stuff, but man that's got to be an invisible castle or something, right? i mean there's just that one turret sticking out flying in the sky, where's the rest of the castle?

Codrus: it's a prop. for learning. didn't you love when the teacher brought visual aids? you won't be seeing those bums again, i'm in charge now, they've been put away permanently. *sigh* it seems i can't kill them yet.

Cotard: or kill whatever they represent. thanks for ruining my mood.

Codrus: you ruined your own mood or have you forgotten? remember when the teacher would use the overhead projector? i miss that piece of equipment, it was regal and elegant and most importantly ahead of its time. it did the best job of explaining things that no stupid computer screen which followed would ever. that was real tech, evolved from my beautiful ancient Greeks' using of tree branches and leaves. and what were those films called?

Cotard: blue?

Codrus: no, those clear pieces of wobbly paper that the teacher would write on with a smelly blue marker? i always loved it cos this was the only instance where we saw math done in ink.

Cotard: i was too busy getting rapped on by nuns with yardsticks. and then the nuns at my particular school would rap. with sunglasses on. it was their way of letting off a little steam. transparencies?

Codrus: yeah, transparencies! viewfoils. for this guest lecture, i'm gonna let a very special teacher take over. he's come all the way from San Francisco. the alternate-dimension San Francisco. i'll just be the Supernintendo Chalmers in the back grading the teacher, which i know the students love.

Sid and Glidden and Rumi have taken their seats in the back row of the classroom, the only students in the room save for Cotard and the Monty Python French medieval soldier guarding the castle. Sid takes a straw out of his third eye and shoots a spitball which lands perfectly on top of Codrus's precious hair but Codrus doesn't notice. Glidden and Rumi are generally rabblerousing and horseplaying with each other, wrestling on the floor which hasn't been swept in ages. neither does Codrus notice when Codrus sits down on the seat currently occupied by Sid. Sid smiles wide. Charles Darwin takes to the overhead projector in the front of the class and takes out a shitload of transparencies from his modern faux-leather suitcase and begins inking his Theory of Evolution first step by last step. it takes a lot of transparencies jotting everything down, each species with elaborate illustration, lines of lineage, connecting this gene to that,

Darwin winks at the students in the back, he sees them...

Darwin: ...but i'm focused. is everyone in the class getting this, seeing this? in the back? a teacher is like a mom, eyes in the back of the head, an extra pair of eyes willing to look at things differently.

Codrus (clapping): there's nothing in this room. except for the smell of blue ink in the morning. and the smell of that smelly Frenchman. what you have done, mon frere Charles, is systematically, thoroughly, methodically, detailingly, clear-eyedly destroyed God. that's beauty, brother, pure. that's a de-lovely destruction. and now for the kicker.

Codrus removes the last transparency from the overhead projector, tears at the edges of it, rips it in half, and crumbles it up into a ball Big-Bang-style. and he gives the whole projector box a strong knock-knock which reverberates its strong hollow emptiness inside.

Codrus: all that work, Charles, for nothing. what did you get out of it? what did you get? you see this film? filled with all your equations, all the known and even the unknown equations, but they're all the earth equations. the universe equations, the religion equations, the religiously universal equations, the one new faith for all. that's all that was in front of you, that's all you ever knew, that's what was projected to you. but it's not the real deal. see the condenser lens up top? that's the devil making sure everything is compacted to its lowest basest form. the stage glass, my favorite kind of glass, is god, now the old god, full of light and the see. the fresnel lens is now me. and the light which shines through, the bulb? *puts ear to the base* i'm hearing the dregs of its battery running out.

Codrus takes the whole of the heavy projector and kicks it out the turret window into a crag of seaside rocks way down below. at that precise moment Codrus turns into a little boy against his will. he's seen on the shore playing with the newly-cut-off shards of gray rocks. he seems to be making people out of the piles.

a moonlit spot graces the water outside the turret window but there is no moon. but the yellow on the water is soothing, natural. there Cotard confronts his mother Fuerza.

Fuerza: son i want you to get the bag, you know the bag, not the small one or the large one or the just-right one, least you can do, take out the saveable trash, put it in the bin, you should always recycle, even yourself. then i want you to get me my tea. and make sure to spread out the frijole. i was spread for nine months cos of you. then do this, and that, and this.

Cotard: DAM, MOM! COS OF YOU I MISSED STAR WARS! by the time you healed it wasn't in theatres anymore! it's not the same netflixing it. no chill. now you tell me what's the point in living anymore. i mean if a young man can't have his Star Wars, what other frilly thing walking down the street can mean anything? what has that shine? what smells better than a walking carpet? speaking of, WHO dies?! DAM, MOM, SPOILERS! ruined! you ruined my life! i hate you and i hate me and i hate this. i need to get the fuck outta here. i literally need to go to a monastery to get some verifiable peace and quiet. if i don't go to a monastery i will die of stir-craziness inside this insane asylum you call a household.

Cotard (living this but also watching this from a second body): but y'know, there would always be periods of calm after the blowups. my anger jags seemingly went on forever. but they didn't. the moon would rise and quiet the air. and no matter what hurtful things were said in the day, at night Mama would always politely ask me to do the windows.

Fuerza: close all the windows, mijo, i'm turning on the heat.

Cotard: i loved doing that job. i'd go around the house methodically pushing in all the windows. a simple task. the best kind. it focused me. it was something to do other than fret. and when i was done, i was enclosed and safe and secure in my mother's hearth. i never felt the heat from the air conditioner, i felt the heat of her warmth as i drifted off to sleep...

in the memory, Cotard kicks his laptop through the yellow spot in the water and up into the window of the turret through inside the invisible castle. the laptop smashes into pieces. Cotard does not play with the pieces.

but then that day came

cotard: i felt so small. after another one of my off-my-anger-medication rants, mom had had enough and she sheltered in place in her room, locking the door. hours passed. no mail. no dinner. she didn't ask me to do the windows. had she fallen asleep from my exhaustion? or.........was this the last time? had i actually let my mother pass away without first telling her i was sorry? i didn't want that answer. i twirled into a frenzy, flapping my wings and chirping on the inside. forgiveness is hard, but regret is stone. my tears turned to sweat.

Cotard stalks his mother's bedroom door, leaning into it but not opening it. he grabs hold of the knob, slowly turning it right but then back left again. it seems he can't quite bring himself to open the door.

Monday, January 11, 2016


1. why do you fall in love? tits. they cushion my tongue when i fall. do you know why men are attracted to tits? it's cos they look like butts. David Brent taught us all that.

2. what makes you fall in lust? i'm Ricky Gervais, i'm on the edge all the time. the greatest example of lust in human history of course is that between Ricky Gervais and Mel Gibson,


chemistry can be created, but true tension cannot be faked. do you know what these two lustbirds discussed that was censored? sugar tits.

3. if you are in a monogamous sexual relationship and your significant other has sex outside of your relationship, will you forgive them? yes. cos we are all human. actually that's not true, we are all ziggy stardust.

4. what do you idolize? religious people who swear like sailors (after all, Jesus loved his fishermen), French actresses who go their entire careers without appearing nude on camera, and huge husky burly NFL linemen hugging their scrawny kicker when the kicker misses an easy field-goal that abruptly ends their season.

5. where are your erogenous zones? my butt that looks like tits. also, i get really hot when you slide your stick across the palm of my hairy palm cos it means i got my writing pencil in my hand and can get back to work.

bonus: what is the strangest or most unique thing you've tied someone up with or been tied up with? why were you tied up? the Red String of Fate. yeah the fortuneteller told me in between puffs of vape smoke whilst taking off her hoop earrings that i was the only case in history where the Red String tied me to the wrong person. so that kinda sucks cos that string is like really hard to take off.



Friday, January 8, 2016



* Barney (talking to himself): Betty's beating the fuck out of that rug. don't get on her bad side. just a mental note.

* Fred: the wives sure do work hard, huh?
Barney: yeah. wanna go help them?
Fred: nah.

* Barney: i'm bored all the time, Fred. no matter what i do, nothing energizes me. i'm dying, buddy.
Fred: *trademark laugh* nah, nobody every died of boredom. it's just life in the Stone Age.
Barney: do you think life will ever get better?
Fred: sure, once we get more technology. here, have a Winston Cigarette. now don't you feel better?
Barney: no, but i look cooler.

* Fred: yeah i know Winston, they come in all these delicious flavors like Fred Flintstone Fruit Punch, Wilma Watermelon, Barney Rubble Rhubarb, Betty Blueberry, and Dino Dill.
Barney: all i know is that my dad smoked.

* Fred: hey Barney ol' pal, what does the 20 on the box mean?
Barney: one smoke of this stuff is like smoking 20 cigarettes. also it takes 20 workers to make the tobacco specially selected and specially processed.
Fred: those 20 workers are living the dream...

* Wilma: are you trying to kill me, Fred?
Fred: WILMAAAAAAAAA! why would you say that, honey? i love you. let me light that cigarette for you.
Wilma: okay. just no more singing. you can't sing.


happy weekend

Wednesday, January 6, 2016


the homesteader is sitting slanted quiet brim of his hat covering his entire body. every so often an arm outstretches from the hat's ribbon to turn over the stick that's puncturing a hole in his can of beans over his open fire. Codrus tries not to make a sound as he approaches.

Codrus (chewing on a stalk of wheat): more for i don't want to disrupt the beauty of all this pristine white sand. now how the hell you make it all out here? where's your family?

homesteader (rubs his bald head): well now buckaroo i could ask you the same thing. a moonshiner's got to keep some secrets close to his overalls. let's just say we took the crazy train. can't you guys just leave us alone? the fact that you asked shows you got some growing to do. and that there are still pockets of resistance. *clinks his own gold teeth* cheers. escaping the gubmint wasn't the only reason we retreated to this rock. there's Stones in them thar hills. and might i say thank you for your aesthetic, this planet's mighty purdy. i think i go get high art anow, by gum. mostly i appreciate that it's barren.

Codrus: some of my best work. my only work. early work? there are pockets of adoration, too, i'm sure. i hear i'm huge on the Gram. but you can't keep running forever. soon the only wide open spaces left will be in your head.

homesteader: thank you kindly, sir. oh it's not so much a militia as a movement. i'm but a farmer tilling for new soil. my corn crop is my identity. i am corny, i make no dinosaur bones about it, ayephehehhee.

Codrus bellies up, waves his hat, and shouts YEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWW as loud as he can.

Codrus: wow, there really is no reverberation here at all. you lucked out, as flat as ancient Earth.

homesteader (rubbing his belly): don't feel good, huh? doesn't feel right, right here in your medicine chest. when it's not yours. the smell of corporate takeover is of a staining coat of texas tea. devoid of history, richness. we are the real muricans. you have to admit, it's just not fair, when you guys always have all the power, by which i mean central heating. you'll always have the upper hand, the most resources, the most time, the most warm homes, the only guns. you have the heroic snipers, we have the cowardly ones. what are we on the other side to do? even when we win we lose. are we to trust you have our best interest, have all the answers? now if i could look you in the eye over a steaming succulent supper of hog and cob i could see how much mud was in there. i could spitshake and that'd be that. but you're always wearing those sunglasses, afraid to look at your horizon. *pats belly* yep yep yep yep yep, flat as daddy's belt, better to see you gubmint-men astalkin'...

the homesteader empties the full can into his mouth. there were no beans in there, only bullets.

homesteader: pardon my loud chewing. *separates the coals with his two-pronged twig then slowly looks up at Codrus* you don't come back now, ya hear?

Cotard: enough sleep, i'm bored. (*singsong*) whatcha doin'?

Codrus: divested a sunspot till i got down to beyond its essence in subatoms. i got Particle Fever! i saw processes running that were so tiny that got embarrassed when they were gazed upon for the first time by any entity that they hid and ran for cover. i'm telling you, it was due for a rewrite but a lot of this stuff is brand new, it's a shame to shelve it. don't worry, i'll incorporate it and be sure to give credit to the author with a link. if only humanity had lived to see...

...see what i'm working on presently? i'll show you number 3 of 8 concurrent projects i'm up to. see that white comet over there? go ahead and reach for it, touch it.

Cotard feels his hand engulf with a warm-but-not-in-a-good-way goo that smells of embarrassment.

Cotard: ew. i was expecting the notes again. what is this stuff?

Codrus: it's all me, baby. the universe is all me now. i miss my kids.

Cotard makes the Jenna Marbles face.

Cotard: dude, bad segue.

Codrus: i'm sure they made it off. kids see things in such different ways, ways adults can't. kids are supercharged with ready-and-willing imagination. kids are short, see, they can't see beyond the horizon so a tall building becomes a giant, a lush valley a German wood, an infinity pool the secret entrance to Atlantis. i'm sure they went off to fight the good fight, make good by me, emblazon my name across the galaxy. you know what? i can't take the suspense anymore, i know the college visit isn't until next weekend but this college thing is killing me. i need to know now. hey i'm just a product of my age.

Codrus pushes his hand long into a leftish quadrant of the universe and pulls out a box with four sides of different patterns of stars which eventually become the same pattern as they're manipulated around and the box opens with three college kids inside. the hand takes a long time to come back. in the meantime Cotard is noticing that outer space is raining, but it's disorienting, the rain is coming from downward, it's unclear where it's coming from.

Cotard: it's just not the same when the raindrops keep falling on my chin.

the hand becomes a giant foam finger in the black sky as it passes an asteroid where sits 5 Pointz. all that glorious graffiti, art, portraits of dead artists, those valuable memorizable illuminating dates of a creative artist who is gone save for anything he did on those walls and word of mouth, the history of hip-hop. Codrus takes a nearby white comet, they're everywhere lately, and squeezes it until white paint ejaculates out and whitewashes the whole of 5 Pointz.

Codrus: sorry, but it all has to go. fresh start. it's better to complete than compromise. less messy, less sticky on the hands than having to avoid certain lines.

Yayray (hiding in a secret location): skateboarding is not a crime. now who's the vandal? i'm all for blatant symbolism but this one hurts. this was our place, the man.

the hand turns into a hamsa with an eye in its palm. it gazes down upon the planet Kepler. there Codrus sees a woman in unusual medieval fatigues riding a goat with two tails back and forth, back and forth forever.

Codrus: she wears a battledress. by which i mean a battle skirt.

Codrus crumples up some stars and forms an ear constellation.

Codrus: i'm still able to hear soundings from a past-gone age.

commercial: tired of having to watch those annoying commercials on your favorite shows? now you don't have to! it's all recorded commercial-free somewhere. the catch is you have to wait for it in this form rather than watch the show at its appointed time like everyone else. who has the time? there's always some distraction to keep you from your shows, everybody is busier than ever these days with their youtube channels and being a scroll troll. fuck that advertising money. art is free. so just sign up today for this service. brought to you by Kiss's Kibble. if Kiss the Kitten's not sticking out her tongue at you on the front of the package, it's not Kiss's Kibble.

Codrus: how quaint. what's this, i don't recognize these voices:

Sid the Kid: i'm not all about looks but she needs to be hot. but mostly i'm looking for something that will take me offline forever.

the waiter: still got this atrocious hangnail. it's growing! i tried out some white-sand therapy to no avail, closed my eyes and stuck my hand in the sand but that didn't work.

Codrus: ah, you've all been properly cooked, my three amigos *upside-down exclamation point* you can come out now, my little darlings! what's this? there's the boy and the boy and the girl. you all look so gloomy. you're wearing all black so i can barely make out your profile in outer space. girl, what are your names again?

girl (monotone): we all got different names when we disowned you.

boy (monotone): um, all the kids on my campus are green. i don't fit in. i mean i'm Greek but i'm not THAT olive-skinned.

other boy (autotune): yeah, the army sucks. my drill sergeant particularly hates my music. who invented war anyway?

Codrus: gah! no it's worse! i see your colors now and they're not black, they're blue! you're all members of the Blue Force? the Blue Force?! why not the Red Force?! you joined the opposition, the traitors? you're breaking your old pa's heart!

girl: yeah i dunno, i like that the uniforms are blue, they match my soul of eternal despair. hey you got money for the bus?

Codrus (sweat on his brow): hehe, tell you what, i'll give you a free ride back. and i won't helicopter you anymore, the chopper blades always get stuck in this atmosphere. i'll let you breathe, i won't visit again till the Festival of the Singing Sun.

girl: what's that? sounds made up.

Codrus: yes, i just made it up. i can do that now. it's somewhere after Christmas but before Christmas. everyone dreads a new year.

Codrus hastily puts the lid back on the box with the kids inside and messes that operation up. the lid doesn't quite square up and catch and hits the corner of the box and tilts the box into a spinning freefall from which the young adults never recover. it just spins up and down but never left and right, never forwards or backwards.

Codrus: whoopies. that wasn't supposed to happen. i don't know how to stop this. that's gonna leave a mark. by which i mean quite a few lashings for the scientists in the church congregation. those poor souls are REALLY gonna be confused. oh well. cie la vie. live and learn. gotta leave the nest some time. probably won't be much snow forming. too many snowflakes anyway. not everyone can get into AP Chemistry.

Cotard is upon a glorious vacant sprawling ballroom adorned with heavy roped amber drapes. there's an aura of banana and cream and daisy. the lights are chartreuse and the tiles on the floor are maize. the overhead lights are little spinning ufos. Mama Fuerza alights on her tippytoes, her toes form into slippers. her beautifully florid flowered dress is made of straw. by which i mean is of silk of the color straw. the spotlight comes in and out but when it's in it dances lightly to Fuerza's many movements as she twirls herself throughout all the four corners. then she reaches the center of the room and trips over her excitement and lands on her shoulder, separating it. Cotard was already generally aware and miffed today but now he has a solid excuse.

Cotard: dammit, mom, i told you not to do unnecessary things! you're too old!

Fuerza: i'm too old to have fun? to live? i am to wither away, let my whiskers grow, and become a housecat? i may be decrepit but i shall dance! i shall be the decrepit dancer! that's all i ever wanted to be when i was a little girl working slave labor on the homestead back in the country of old. i could never slip into a tutu then so i slip now. never stop dreaming, son.

Cotard: dammit, mom, i'm having a bad day! God ate me. and now this happens. the hip surgery, once was enough. i can't go through this again, taking care of you, waiting on you hand and foot. it's more piling on. i'm already on pills. my thoughts can't bear more weight, i'm already draped in depression. i'm busy. too busy. i have important work to do. LET ME WATCH MY SHOWS ON TIME! when will this work happen? you only did this for attention!

Fuerza: i can't speak for my subconscious, but no. i'm old, mijo. i did it cos everyone does it. everyone wants to belong. and everyone wants to be free from belonging. after all i did for you, mijo? clothing you, feeding you, bathing you for 18 years....or actually, till right now and in the future. i kissed your booboos and got you into Boo-Boo Bear. i checked up on you and sent you my checks when you were low on spaghetti money. who got you your first gun? the one for Duck Hunt. that was such a terrible game in retrospect, bad influence, it got you hooked on videogames. and from there it was priest or bust. okay, then, who let you climb on mama's rosary and let you swing on it till all the beads came apart and scattered all over the floor? who let you keep all those beads you had to clean up? it's not a big deal. a little tit is not so much to ask for my tat.

Cotard: please, ma, i don't want that image in my head. i starve when i'm in charge of food. it's so unfair, you'll always have the upper hand which never raised up to me. you raised me spank-free. you showed me love, which is something i wasn't thinking about when i was born. i could never repay you, you own me with your kindness.

the spotlight turns bright and burning and focuses on Cotard.

Cotard: oh for god sake, enough with the lights! *squeezing Fuerza's shoulders* mama, do i have to shake it into you? will this jog your memory? is your skull too thick? DON'T LEAVE THE LIGHTS ON! AND DON'T LEAVE THE OVERHEAD ROTATING FAN ON ALL NIGHT! the screws will come loose! those blades are unpredictable. it's a waste of electricity. and it's a sign of the end.

Fuerza: i was not yet a woman much less a mother. but, mijo, mothering transforms into an instinct after awhile, you're thrust into it and you adapt. you learn the secrets from an invisible book. you let your pupils settle on the brightness of a tiny spirit so small and helpless and hot and with all of its fingers and toes it gives you quickie lasik surgery at the mall when you aren't looking. you'll learn these things in time. i don't believe in too much light. seeing it is just the beginning. seeing is believing. if you won't help me, i'll help myself. what else is new, huh? don't worry, i won't bother you anymore. i can only be me...

Codrus: let's see, think i'll make a happy little planet over here. oh, it looks like a cloud *squeezes more white juice from neighboring comets he summons from all across the galaxy* yes, nice and messy, into a big sticky ball, forming the core...

Yayray (coming out of the forming planet): you slimeball! it's one thing when you're young but when you're old still doing it...

Yayray touches with two fingers Codrus's shoulder, lightly brushing up on Codrus. Codrus feels extreme bitter cold, like a glacier smushed into an icepick that was sharpened as much as it could be, a freezing pencil. the planet has turned into a solid block of ice.

Yayray: what did you do today? thanks for caring about me, granmama, well nothing much, just


Codrus (unfazed): everytime you don't kill me.............*brrr* think i need to borrow Cotard's robe.

Yayray (smiling): that's not cold you feel. and not cold you see. it's just that, well, it's just that i'm so hot, so incalculably flamey, that the hot has nowhere to go but down, it's as high as it can be, so it turns to cold. burning cold. weather, huh? unpredictable. i love how it's designed like that, i appreciate that about it the most.

Codrus: where's the music? i shan't dance without music.

Kepler, the ice/fire planet, and the spherical moon-on-a-stick that Codrus is sucking on all start playing music. they are all remixes of the original music played by the Singing Towers of Darillium a time ago.

Yayray (head tilted): let's tussle.

Fuerza gently wriggles herself loose from Cotard's iron grip, grazing his fingernails with hers. Cotard cries a river that coagulates into the spot on the floor where Fuerza slips. Fuerza slips back and forth on that spot forever.

Monday, January 4, 2016


becoming ye olde year...

what is sexier?
1. arms or shoulders? shoulders. shoulders are boulder holders.
2. ass or legs? Assy McGee is the sexiest combination of both.
3. pussy or dick? why? now take a look up there. you tell me cos i sure can't choose. cat or duck, both are cute in their own way. more importantly, they feed off each other's cuteness until there's an overload. we need more of this kind of overload in the world, not another terrorist bomb.
4. feet or hands? why? one word: hamsa. why? cos a hot babe has a hamsa tattoo on her side, that's all that really matters.
5. muscles or brains? why? the brain is a muscle which must be worked out or it will deflate and die. except in my case. i have a cyberbrain that's controlled by the CIA. shit, i wasn't supposed to tell you that. i now expect a knock on my door from the muscle come from Washington wearing black fedoras and sonic sunglasses and lead pipes. they'll say they just want to talk but i know they really want to take me to the cleaners. while my good suit is being pressed they'll run me through the car wash. of course i'm not sure if this is really happening to me or is a program running in my brain. i can't answer the door cos i'm all plugged in.

folks, sexiness is a gift from God. we, you and me, those who are blessed with the gift have a duty to spread our sexiness around the globe. shed some of that extra glitter to others so the world will be a happier, better, more stylish place. one day the dream will be realized. every single one of us living on this planet now or before will walk out our doors proudly wearing our latex pants and heels. all this hotness will cause a seismic shift and bring the dinosaurs back to life. only they won't be the dinosaurs we learned about in school. these dinosaurs will be wearing eyeshadow. and moisturizer for their rough scaly skin.

bonus: do you think you're sexy? come on sugar let me know. actually don't. i'm sorry. i've been living a lie this whole time. honey, you're sweet. that's just it. that's the problem. i've been a prick. please don't let me know. i can't take you anymore. i want to but if i love you more i'll die. i have the diabeetus.


Friday, January 1, 2016



* so the Next Big Bang's coming. but y'know, as long as the explosions are in rhythm with the music, i'm cool with it. destruction's gotta have a beat. there's no creation without creativity. still haven't seen that show.

* Lady Gaga's origin story. she was too colorful even for the other colorful birds in the woods. she ended up becoming the first cosplayer. this is what killed the dinosaurs.

* believe it or not, there was a time when people drank coffee without zarfs. they used these bigass mugs and stone tankards and sometimes they just cupped their hands.

* personally, i think having an imaginary friend is healthy. it's not a sign that you're crazy. in my experience, this is just me now, but my imaginary friend: best sex i ever had.

* see? Bigfoot's not scary. all Bigfoot wants to do is shred the gnar like everyone else.

* Google Maps: want to help us out?
Phoenix: fuck yeah! where are you paying for me to go?
Google Maps: New Jersey.
Phoenix: oh.
Chris Christie: hello there, young man. my name is Chris Christie. i'm running for president.
Phoenix: oh, that's nice. Chris Christie, that's gotta be a stage name. do i have to answer three riddles before you let me cross your bridge?

* God was the first drone. but for whom was God collecting information?

* damn that Gandhi got buff.

* BELIEVE pickup truck with the flame decals and the tire fire: Mulder's truck. i'm not naming any suspects but this is why smoking cigarettes all the time is bad.

* did you know that if you arrange all the continents on Earth you can form a chicken?


happy weekend. another year already? what took so long? i'm an old man. i look old for my age...