Monday, January 30, 2017


1. your current home: house? apartment? trailer? condo? other? jungalow
2. which is bigger, your childhood home or your current home? please. i can't. whenever i think of my tiny little beige only-child childhood home with the beige windows and beige lawn in Van Nuys i cry. that's where i first met Link. and the Princess when i got older.
3. which is better, childhood or current home? my current home won't allow smoking.

4. what was your favorite subject in school? (high school, college, grad school) why was this your favorite subject? imagining. cos i could be Link. what's grad school? oh i just found out grad school is a place i can keep imagining...
5. are you currently working in a field you studied in college? sure. i mean i'm a blogger. i minored in herbal science. i don't use that one unless i get really sick.

6. describe your first job. Burger King bathroom...
7. what was your favorite job and why? Burger King. cos i got the key to the bathroom.

bonus: what haven't we talked about in TMI Tuesday that you would like to discuss? i want to read everyone's secret family recipes. i'm hungry. and thirsty. all the time


Friday, January 27, 2017



* how'd he get the answers?

* sick as a dog. these friday night writes are my favorite therapy but they come after a long week. i need a chicken soup bone.

* John: all this shaking my head?
Jamie: it's about your religion.
John: what?
Jamie: shake your head to get rid of all the crazy ideas. to make room for the scientology.

* Jamie: don't look at my ass in this '80s leotard.
John: i'm not, i'm looking at the mirror.

* Jamie: sweat on my chest in the shape of a cross. i'm clearly the leader........don't stare at my chest.

* John: this isn't cheesy to me. it's nostalgic. this is the way it was. the exercise revolution. all the moms flooding the zone in their beige station wagons and pink legwarmers after school. a brown chewed-up soccer field and long, well-lit aerobics studio on every block. running in place at the bus stop.
Jamie: even this '80s music?
John: it's not '80s music. it's just music.

* Jamie: i'm sure you're used to all this what with your Grease partner being the leading proponent and global face of the movement.
John: yeah i greased up Jane Fonda good last night.

* John: bro what's up with the cutoff tanktop? you might as well just take your shirt off.

* Jamie: the swan...the metronome...the hat tip...
John: the pelvic thrust...
Jamie: what's that?
John: sex
Jamie: i don't do sex like that

* Jamie: your little man is showing.
John: what can i say, i'm a mama's boy.

* John: i see you. okay. you're cute, too.
Jamie: that was gas.

* John: is this exercise or soft-core porn?
Jamie: all exercise is good for you.

* Jamie: class, class, gather round, i want to show you a new thing from the East. watch me as i do the downward dog.
class: that's just silly.

* John: just delocated my shoulder.
Jamie: told you to keep breathing.

* Jamie: okay class this next thing we do when we're all on our backs with pointed knees looks like we're in a cult but i assure you there will be no drinking of kool-aid here...
John: did you say Ensure?
Jamie: no, Activia.

* John: what are you saying to me? are you mouthing the song lyrics?
Jamie: no. really bad gas. even now i need some Activia.

* Jamie: you think i'm a bitch? well watch me as i get on all fours and kick you in the nuts with my dogleg.

* Jamie: the leotard's holding in front, right Producer?

* Jamie: how do you feel?
John: i'm exhausted.
Jamie: pretty good warmup. come back in five minutes and we'll start the class.

* Jamie: what paper do you work for again? is that the one with the indecipherable cartoons? i only subscribe to Kerrang!

* John: i broke the cardinal rule of journalism: i am not a journalist.

* Jamie: pretty good for a New Yorker.
John: we don't exercise in New York. there's no space for a mat. we don't lift dumbbells we punch dumbbells in the face. our meditation is when we overanalyze everything.

* Jamie: it's a date.
John: what do you want on your pizza?
Jamie: organic lettuce and soy cheese.
John: oh.

* John: why are these Los Angeles health clubs so popular with single people? what does this have to do with your inner psychology, lack of confidence, fear of settling, body-image issues, dying to be thin, and the futile striving to be perfect in an impossibly imperfect world?
Jamie: wrong scene.
John: oh.


this weekend as you watch the tennis you will feel that you've gone back in time. a tennis timewarp, a tennis time machine if you will. relax. remain in your hot tub and sip your iced T. you are in the Tennis Twilight Zone.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017


Musculo is squatted in the desert, staking his claim, claiming his land no matter what's come before. he won't let loss define him. he strips his baobab of its trunk, silvery in the quiet moon. he begins to shape it using his shaver. there is nothing around except ghosts. echoes of ghosts.

"they stir, don't they."

Musculo: who's there?

"the Solihull Moors. or Almaty. or Grosvenor Circle. are you from Joisy? do you need a Jersey passport? would you prefer me in a white halo dress?"

Musculo: you're the woman of my dreams?

"i think you mean in your nightmares. i can be. i prefer to be. maybe then i'd get some respect around here."

Musculo: show yourself.

"why? we can escape our past but we can never escape the echoes of our past. you could have anything you desire. any exotic food you want, forbye any erotic drink you want. any coupling. or are you simple and prefer an impossible woman?"

Musculo: you sound short.

"well fuck me i can't win"

a demon dwarf emerges from the stones. he has a horrible nose. and it's not just from a cold.

O: call me O. that's nice and easy. and the most complicated concept there is. hand me that staff young man and we'll talk. o yes, such strong fiber, grey befitting a moorish sky. the power in it is magnetic. it blows me down and i'm no foreigner to strange magic. why i'd say from experience that this has the hand of the Creator himself.

Musculo: the boss. that C?

O: o but you shouldn't stain it with your dulled knife. cheeks are meant to be cut. this is the pulp that will define the story for the rest of our lives. it is quite simply the starting stalk of soup. it is meant to be fashioned, crafted by hand like amber beer, into a weapon the power likes of which will never be seen or heard from again. the engine of the universe. it is all the old legends rolled into a new one. he, or she, who wields it controls the future.

Musculo: sure, buddy. how do i know you're not a Russian spy? hand it over.

O: dear boy you must stop thinking so provincially! get out of earth, or Kepler, orbit and expand your mind, man. you don't need the Stones to do it. at least think about the money. have a quotidian aspect to you if not a quality one. now what was your favorite food again? i can prepare anything on the menu. i was a cook before the crisis.

Musculo: i dunno, cheese pizza.

O: you have no idea how glorious that answer is! extra-cheese would have been all-time perfect. now follow me into my lair, uh, dining den. it's in the hole you created from removing the trunk. leave the bark on it, it adds flavor. that's it, hack away the bushes and sempervivum to reveal the location. quite the jungalow. you like cascade hops? or a nice vietnamese drip? black-tea latte? silly me, drinks are always the dessert. how bout while we wait for the stove to work i provide the entertainment.

O begins pounding quietly on a water drum.

Musculo: uh, yeah, that's enough of that, my heads hurts as it is. let's wade in the silence shall we? y'know you're not really a scary dwarf.

O: was that...i don't understand, i'm a dwarf not an ogre. we're the good guys. my eyes are naturally red. it seems like forever. when is the food gonna be ready! (amirite?) i'm starving! look outside, padawan.

Musculo raises his heads and senses the bitter cold of an unsuspecting wasteland. large cracks of thunderous energy dawn into thick sticks of blasting vapor on the desert surface.

Musculo: i hate thunder! i'm okay with lightning but i hate sound.

O: oh that's not lightning. that's a gamma ray burst ready to take out another thousand civilizations or so. life is so fragile. we named this storm Winter Storm Beerus. yeah kind of a running joke around here, it's like the Extreme Weather Channel. but with no spanish babes telling you to remove layers. sorry.

Musculo: i will win. i just have to learn to talk. like Bump. like i was crafting this tweet yesterday, see what you think:

i don't care about humans. i only care about money.

O: he's, we're, you're, we're gonna destroy the world aren't we? break it down and fashion it in our image. shape it with our searing slurpiness. our defiant debauchery. it's about time we were free. y'ever when it gets this cold go out and blow some bubbles? the ice crystals are instantaneous and the bubble forms into a hard glass ball. frozen bubbles. they're really bubble nebulas.

Musculo: yeah, my dad and i used to hunt together. makeshift PULLS!

O: of course. i'm sure your mother would have kneaded you more. you would have responded the other answer: in another timeline, i mean in another time you would have told me the story of how your mother took you out gardening at the first fall of snow before it was too late. she'd gently pick up the fragile root of a dying brown leaf and hand it you. you'd spin it round and notice its prominent blue veins. your mother would inform you that that was ice forming on the leaf, nature's stencil. she'd peel apart the white layer leaving the impression of the leaf in ice. instant art. and art no matter how cheap is so important. dessert bowl? i know this isn't Hawaiian Brian's...

Musculo: you got your courses mixed up again little man.

O: blind me! well cucumber and cantaloupe always go well together whenever. what's the strategy, are you gonna break the alliance and take Olteanu in a surprise treaty which strips the host city into your home base? Operation Olteanu has a nice ring to it.

Musculo: what?

O: here's your ca phe da you ordered.

Musculo: that's against my religion.

O: that's racist.

Musculo: i'm searching for clean living. cash me outside...

O: wait, we've hardly just begun. let us at least chat about our favorite tv shows.

Musculo: i gotta work on my dates.

O: dates are good. i prefer fruits. and nuts. it's ready, it's ready. o the treasures that come to those who wait! i used a fork instead of a spoon to stir. here! jersey royals potatoes circling a couple of day-old siopao dipped in ginger dressing. now that's a main course! with some nian gao for dessert in the desert. soon, a new year.

Musculo: like a fat kid who likes cake, i prefer real food. the food of the common man. of the worker. i am a man of the people. where is the crab feed?

O: we have a carb feed every spring...crabs are full of carbs.

Musculo: where's the meatball parm? i got big buns to feed. i am steaming right now!

O: you're hangry. please, turn on the tv. turn the acorn dial to the right...


Herlina is having a complicated pregnancy. she's having complications. she lies on the ground next to the Wandering Wave in pain both external and internal. by her side holding her by the hand with his Lego minifigure C-fingers hand is a confused Starscream.

Starscream: what shall i do, my love?

Herlina: fuck you for doing this to me!!! get me water! water is life!

Starscream: the Wave is being stingy at the moment. it has a stiff body. it's being a stiff. it's all at the top of the foam. it needs something to jolt it down.

though the beleagured couple can't see it, they hear the roiling of the water internally within the Wave. there's some rumblings inside that it's starting to boil. but will it boil over?

JUST THEN a small man in a sloppy dated Halloween dwarf mask that has the hairy nose of an ogre pops out of the bushes, startling Herlina enough to move her hand from her puss to her puss.

Herlina: *with her hand in her mouth* eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!!

Starscream screams into the stars.

the cats both shrivel up and arch their backs and go "reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" like their hind paws were naughtily all over a computer keyboard.

O: wait it's me...

before an afterbirth placenta of nuts, out pops the child: it's a SpaceX rocket.

Herlina: son! son! give mama a big kiss! it was all worth it i think.

Starscream: we love you, son, no matter if you kill us. as a man and father i want to be the first to actually say to my son, i love you. i love you, Spacey.

SpaceX: um can we go with X for my name?

X opens up all his wingjet flaps and portals, attracting the stuck water droplets finally off the Wave and into his systems.

O: just needed a major force to counter. love.

all of this creates a massive mass of steam which permeates the lands. the cloud covers Kepler in a cloud more whitish than grey as the Wave finally learns how to loosen up.

X fires up his rockets and flies straight into space.

X: fuck. i can fly!!! hot as

Starscream: fuck. come back, Spacey! you don't have a license yet!

Herlina: let the boy live, pa. be loose. well our roles are set. i'm gonna obviously live through him the childhood that was denied me the first time.

Madchen: hello. i'm royally late. i mean fashionably late. what did i miss? oh, congrats on the squid. our legends are dying left and right. it's gone beyond curses. we need to fill up our ranks with more strong women. in hats. we need to make new legends. i love spunk.


Musculo: do you not have ears you lughole!? i've got five! release me immediately! do not entrap me! that's a violation of the Emoluments Clause!

O: Logan Act actually. news junkie, too? see? okay okay. done with the dirty chai made from riverwater. i hear ya, i hear ya, i'll call McDelivery.

Matthew Chris: where the action is.

Matt and Trey: what?

Matthew Chris: we're joined exclusively in-studio by Mark and Rey from Star Wars. so who's the last jedi? Snoke, right? i love movies more than politics.

Matt and Trey: we're Matt and Trey from South Park.

Matthew: i don't watch that trash. i watch movies. new tech. need a big screen. that small stuff's played out. why are you here?

Matt and Trey: you invited us. you said you were doing a special on Anger in 2016. well we two are the most pissed-off people on the planet. no, Denver's pipes are made with American Steel thank you very much. we're mad that our brilliant series this year which was a collection of episodes that was one long-ass strung-out episode crumbled when Bump won. we are so strung-out right now. we had so many pretty Hilary bows to tie up loose ends. endings for days. instead we had to rush an ending that made the whole thing suck. what a waste of a year and our sizable talents. we had, like, the worst Christmas ever.

Matthew: you mean Life Day. will there be lightsabers in this one? not training, an actual fight?

O: it's all in the delivery. you have to be smooth like Bump, move like Jagger, walk like, well a normal person. your tongue is a slip 'n slide and your suit is made of snake. when Bump says it it comes off as airy and light and as arch as his eyebrows. it has all the fatalistic funny of an inside joke. when you say that twitter line, and by the way bless you brave for actually pushing the SEND button, it comes off as disgustingly despotic. you can't be alarming in an empty theatre.

Musculo: i guess i'm just not cool. it's cold outside but i'm not cool. i want to be cool. teach me how to cool.

O: o man that is the eternal question of all men. it's really quite simple actually. as easy as meat falling off the bone. like butta. so imagine you have a huge-ass piece of meat in your hand or foot or whatever. with your considerable blade you slice and dice it like a ninja, spread the silky steak fillets like a pack of cards, then you get in the prone position, lift your glistening elbow to the sky, tip your sunglasses to your stache and


Musculo: i don't trust me, i mean you.

O: my son, i mean son, follow me. sit down and close your mouth. get in the lotus position. or any flower is fine. you won't be flowering anymore. or deflowering. i want you to imagine you are a drip i mean drop in a raging river. you are cool. you are flowing with the tide, effortlessly, with no pain or comfort. you don't think you just move. you close your eyes to see and prick up your mind to listen. sasta and shastra and sastra and shasta cola come easily through your pores and arteries. you are water the source of all life. with soppy bread.

Musculo imagines and his lungs begin to fill with water. sprouts in the wooden planks of the hut begin to wilt and spring.

O: wow i was wrong this stuff works. what do you want to do with your life? where do you want to do it?

Musculo: i want to war and havoc and cause chaos. i like Russian trance music.

a blue bubble encapsulates and captures Musculo and turns him upside down so his feet are his hands. it's all the river, which is really all the Wave's leg. the Wave has entered the hobbyhole. mud turns into birthday cake. lilypads flip over to reveal frogs. the underground is front and center.

O introduces one more drink, the one he's known for throughout the galaxy, his famous scorpion bowl. made out of coconut shell. he slides it into the bubble and it turns into a scorpion...which Musculo eyes closed takes a bite of and chunks it down his throat before he's bitten!

O: well damn. wasn't prepared for that. no backup. just have to trust in the ether. do your thing, Wave, i don't control you. it's fun to work without a boss.

Musculo fights with all his might and manages to crack the bubble's skin and pop through though the bubble doesn't pop. into the air he scurries his way to the outer banks and slips on the path. he tries to run but immediately crashes into the poor dude on the red McDelivery bicycle. burgers go flying everywhere. drop in the river where the fish appreciate a dry burger pattie. get stuck in the trees where the cats find them and spit them out.

McDelivery driver: dude i know what i look like but i can drive. that was your fault. that's a waste of Big Macs man.

O: i know but it's for the greater good. charge it to the DNC office.

Musculo is doused again and this time he drowns. all of his rage bubbles out of him and heats the water. it slowly but surely cools without a master to guide it. O takes the block of bark and begins hammering at it with his sickle staff. tink tink tink. the foam ball of the Wave acts as a temporary anvil. O works fast and opens Musculo's watery eyes one last time. Musculo's mouth is parched.

Musculo: you won this time. i'm dead. but i'll come back. it never ends. i need this water if it kills me. water is life. i need this resource for my people. to feed my armies. to win the war. to turn the tide. i will not rest until all my lives are completed. i will fight to the death for this reflecting pool, this fountain of youth.

O delivers his running soliloquy trying to keep his small feet in step with the running water and addressing the man side by side:

O: look at me. you see this? this is a sword. it's a fucking sword you understand me? i'm a progressive and this is the ultimate Name Your Price tool you tempestuous tadpole! i've been able to craft a veteran veneer of calm from the chaos. it is the ultimate weapon. it is the ancient weapon of all disputes. it's not a garish gun or pusillanimous poison. it's regal and elegant and worthy of purple. it's the civilized way to die, to be slid under like a smooth tongue laced with Marlon Brando butter. this sword doesn't belong to you. it doesn't belong to me. it belongs to the universe. so here, take it! with this ring i thee wed. i am but part of the chain not the chain itself. you would have liked me, i'm an instigator like you. we work for different sides, we have different faces, but we're part of the same coin.

O opens his opponent's hand with forced coercion. he squeezes the charcoal hilt of the handsome blade into the ugly hand of Musculo's bony palm, cracking open the ball of Musculo's white fingers, making sure Musculo takes ownership of the weapon before a wave from the Wave covers him in a blue blanket and lets the salty water wash him away for good.

the blade itself is at once black, clear, and cosmic latte.

but not before Musculo's one last question:

Musculo: i have one last question don't i? one more? more? a final request? a final meal?

O makes an O face like he's orgasming.

Musculo: you're a liar. you had another job. what is with this black hilt i'm holding? what did you make this sword out of?

O: you left before completing your meal. always finish, finishing is the best part. why that's burnt toast. didn't you hear? burnt toast causes cancer.

Monday, January 23, 2017


1. at work, what sets you apart from others? the fact that i actually do work.

2. when it comes to sex appeal, what sets you apart from others? i got a good mouth. also, moths are attracted to my afro. my hair my hair my hair is on fire.

3. what are the big imbalances in your life? sleep. sleep. precious sleep. my country for a nap. i'd give up masturbating for more sleep. even though masturbating helps me sleep.

4. what is it that your family and close friends cannot do that only you can do? fly

5. are you flexible enough? i'm double-jointed. that's the best kind of sex.

bonus: what was the best news you received in 2016? that it was over. (technically this occurred in 2017)

as Lucy would say, uh buh-byeeeee


Friday, January 20, 2017



* YES! finally. this is what i mean. THIS is what i'm talking about. what we artists do to scrimp and save and steal and sober up. the meals we forego, the suppers we skip, the Bantam Bagels we bypass, the real-life red corvettes we reject in favor of lyrics, the breaststststs and Mercedes Benzzzzzssssss in favor of bread and bones, toiling nights away though we are not insomniacs, sleeping in school, cast aside by critics, scorn for solace, crying for caring, our dignity damaged, our passion peed on, our name neutered by nepotism and nipped by nothing, our burnished being burnt by a billion blogs. it's for a piece of art like this that will endure when religion is relegated, faith is flattened, and the desire to demigod is dead.

* i'm not on drugs but my back is killing me.

* this has nothing to do with what you're thinking. unless you're thinking that. art can't exist in a bubble. or can it?

* confessor: your sins?
Jude Law: i have the best name in show business. i have no sins.
confessor: that American accent is a sin.

* Pope Jude Law: don't stick your cock in my face.
altar man: it's just the microphone, sir.
Pope Jude Law: congratulations. *raises arms* is it raining?
altar man: no.
Pope Jude Law: look! see the sun coming up over the cloud there? i did that.

* Pope Jude: i am God.
rival Cardinal: or Satan.
Pope Jude: same thing.
Cardinal: how did you get elected again?
Pope Jude: thinking outside the box.

* Pope Jude: for my first edict i hereby pardon Salman Rushdie.
Cardinal: here we go...

* Pope Jude: relax they're candy cigarettes.
Cardinal: i can see the smoke.
Pope Jude: Jesus smoked.
Cardinal: how do you know?
Pope Jude: cos he was cool.

* hot nun: why is your nose bleeding?
Pope Jude: please don't touch me. all i'm wearing is this robe.

* Pope Jude: what's with all the vans?
Cardinal: lifetime supply of those thick communion wafers you like. the company is going out of business.

* nun with glasses: i see Christ's reflection in you.
Pope Jude: hey you're Diane Keaton! how's Woody?

* Pope Jude: i saw a vision.
Cardinal: are you sure you weren't hallucinating?
Pope Jude: i may be on drugs but i'm also deeply religious.

* turn the sprinklers off, i'm reading The Gay Science!

* Pope Jude: i can hold my breath for like an hour..................i really picked the wrong line of work.

* evil Cardinal: knowledge is power.
Pope Jude: i know. i forced you to tell me that.

* evil Cardinal: show me on the map what country you want to conquer first.
Pope Jude: this is a map? why isn't it square? i thought this was a playground roundabout. come on, just one ride. papal please?

* Cardinal: they're called Papal Bulls.
Pope Jude: bull!

* hot nun: the plane's gonna crash!!!
Pope Jude: why did we stop walking everywhere?!!

* Cardinal: why are you so angry? what did the world ever do to you?
Jude Law: look i'm not good at relationships okay?

* Pope Jude: Revolution.
Cardinal: miss that show. meanwhile Teen Titans Go! keeps going.


make, uh, happy weekend

Wednesday, January 18, 2017


history repeats itself this is true, but not usually at the same time.

Madchen sits on her throne looking at her apple watch.

Herlina: what time is it?

Madchen: doesn't say. *wearily* where is the new information? i need the new information NOW!

Herlina: the people aren't happy with you. they don't agree with your cabinet. it's all rich women.

Madchen: *lighting a cigarette* not rich women, people who are rich because they are women. it's the end of the world, i'm only choosing the most qualified. what would they have me do? i have to have people i can trust. the ones who will work well with me, the ones who work better together.

Herlina: *scrolling* ugh, everywhere i scroll it's pics of babes who write as their caption below their gym selfie how they shouldn't have eaten that donut. it's making me guilty for eating that donut this morning.

Madchen: you should feel guilty. donuts aren't healthy. that's not a breakfast. you need to get meat on your bones, have a breakfast corndog! sausage in pancake batter.........well you need to get stronger anyway.............i'll be in my chambers, i tire of royal life.

Madchen gets up just as a blade comes between a slit in the seat of her throne and shoots upward. Madchen spots Eefus by the side of the long rug shaking her head at Madchen constantly.

Madchen: what's got your goat? you frisky or something? cuffing season? or you just have fleas?

Eefus: it would behoove you to behave. your majesty is my majesty. it's all a straight line.

Madchen: riddles are good in the morning, get your mind right. by evening all we want are straight answers.

Madchen retires to her grooming room as the two-tailed goat fidgets with her jowls.

Eefus: *under her breath* i can't say. but i hope to Cotard you figure it out. where's my sugarcubes?

Herlina: what?

Eefus: sorry, i guess i was still undering my breath. sugarcubes?

Herlina: great band. itunes.

Eefus: no i need my strength.

Herlina: oh. eat my donut tomorrow morning. i don't need it anymore.

Eefus: y'know i think i'll take an adventure. i need to graze.

Eefus finds a couple of brown sugarcubes by the door which have soaked up the ceaseless rains. she takes one lick and expels them like cud cos they taste like floodwater. she tries to flick them off the pythons of her elbows like salt bae but she finds she can't cos she doesn't have the same powerful pythons, just four sticks.


Matthew Chris: *on an alternate tv* so it turns out Director Coney was the mole. he was the one working for Vlad. he was Nina Myers. Bump was a red herring. the reason CNN got that shot of Bump and Vlad eating red herring together at the Kremlin was cos they both like their herring with ketchup. it's still unclear who's playing whom but that doesn't mean you have to let a good meal go to waste. i believe i had that. i win the office pool. and now i am going to go to the pool, strip naked, and get this pale-white masshole blue-whale carcass in there and wash between the ridges. you can interview me from the pool like Johnson did. i still like the press. it's obvious now, right? coney, triangle, illuminati, illuminaughty.


Harfi is having a crisis of faith. for most this entails a questioning of sexuality or gender or race or identity-politics or general philosophy. it doesn't usually entail one questioning whether they're human or not.

Harfi has been hanging out in caves for months. everyone's worried.

the cats: take off that colorful blanket. it's not native, it's hipster native.

Harfi: i warm my hands by the base campfire but feel no warmth in this world.

the cats: you're wearing mittens. only kittens should wear mittens.

Harfi: it's like i'm holding two diametrically-opposed ideas in my head at the same time.

the cats: that's the definition of insanity.

Harfi: it's like being a militant vegan but still liking the trailer for that new McDonald's movie. i feel everything i've been fighting for up to this point has been a lie. i feel i must sublimate into another being in order to be happy.

Eefus: there's no finding happiness. you either find happiness or you find the truth.

Harfi: who said that? a ghost?

the cats: we know but should we tell her? these type of things you need to discover for yourself.

Harfi: i shall lie down on this appropriately-cold floor and sleep. that's the best way to evade hunger, by sleeping. when i would be sent to my room without supper by my mom i took that as a blessing. but i was training back then for stupid foolish wars. now i know. goodbye.

the cats: y'know there is such a thing as too much sleep. learn from us, we take catnaps throughout the day. we're always frisky. yes when you're tired all you can think about is being tired. but when you are rested the last thing you want to do is sleep, you want to live finally.

Eefus transforms into herself from a painting of a brown outline of an ancient bull on the cave walls. she breathes thick blue smoke from her vibrant nostrils. it's not just a cold day.

Eefus: i'm getting it back. i tracked you pretty easily.

the cats: ehhh, we weren't trying. we could beat you if we wanted but we're lazy. Codrus made us that way.

Harfi gets an alert on her phone which wakes her up from her precious slumber. she jostles and stumbles to find her way in the dark. the lit screen helps.

Herlina: i sent you an app. gonna be wet for five days straight. get yourself protected. i'm not talking about sex. im talking about the incoming flood.

Harfi: thanks, babe. the little tsunami symbol? it's so tiny. i can barely touch it.

Herlina: we get it, you have soldier's hands. want me to come with? i really need to get out of the castle. can't be raised in too much stuffiness. it'll be good to take the baby out for a walk.

Harfi: aren't you nine months? my watch doesn't tell time. sure, what could go wrong? hey wait, the blue flood symbol is blinking blue...................*apple reset tone*............i go to touch it with the tip of my thumb and time stands still, flowing in slow's like the chasm between the screen and reality is closing in.............the little icon shakes and swirls upside down and pops leaving the screen.........jumping into my eye.........and my eyes are transformed into oval cateyes! golden like the sun! i smell things! despite my cold. and i'm not tired anymore.

Harfi gets on all fours and sniffs the ground. she races away through the cave, breaking open another wall and creating ANOTHER drafty hole.


Carmen has been living on her own for weeks now. everyone's worried. on a patch of land she dubbed Mullumbimby after hearing the name in a dream she had, named after her ancestral home. every morning at crack she gets up, skips breakfast, and gets on her cute little bicycle. the quaint villagers all notice the same thing, they are the Lutum hive-mind after all, they see an old hag negotiating brown hills and dirty streams to get to market to sell the fresh eggs from her hen parties. indeed Carmen has aged quite a bit in a short time. she does this all on her own.

Carmen: without that bike i don't have a life. i need a means to escape. the authorities. my broom doesn't fly in the strange gravity of Kepler like it did on Earth. this won't be published anywhere, right?

Wolf: just online.

Carmen sees a strange wolfman charging at her from the distance and starts to pedal but soon realizes it's only Gordon.

Carmen: whajuwant?

Ramsay: *panting heavily* i'm panting heavily. i can't run like my soccer days. i have express orders from the bitch, i mean witch, herself. you're to come back home. let's cook together at the castle. i cleared the cobwebs off the carving board and everything. besides...

Ramsay cracks a few eggs in the wire basket hanging off Carmen's bicycle.

Ramsay: see? look at the yolks. dripping wet and bright orange. ORANGE. they're the special eggs. this means something.

Carmen: i..........i knew they were orange.

Ramsay: sure. magic. but i gleaned it off chef's intuition. human stuff, babe, you should try it.

Carmen: and the same glint that comes off your michelin stars. well let's go, gentleman.

Ramsay: so your bike?

Carmen: no, you carry me on your back!


at the private quarters the mortar stones are basically now gray cubes of ice. Madchen runs her slender finger along the face of the skull on her desk, the one that reminds her of her mortality. the skull wears a pointy joker's hat. the image of Lysander squeezes blue into the face of the skull and laughs. he wags his tongue and writes DAMAGED on the forehead of the skull with Madchen's feather quill. he turns back without her noticing. another body's presence is felt in the room.

Madchen: go. i need to meditate.

Mozart wheels in his piano. he is all blue like his songs. he begins to play Chopsticks and stops.

Madchen: that's it?

Mozart: yep.

Madchen: well that was trash.

Mozart: but it was ME playing Chopsticks.

Madchen: just proves my point. it's about substance, not celebrity.

a dripping Ramsay barges in and drops Carmen like a sack of day-old potatoes.

Ramsay: pardon your miss but what is your pleasure?

Madchen: i don't need no man. i saw a recipe online. Russian pelmeni. go with that.

Ramsay: at once, my liegess. and Carmen will help me.

Madchen: great now we're harboring a criminal. i should turn you in but i am the authorities and the paperwork is messy. just keep her entertained.


at the galley.

Ramsay: i'm so fucking tired. i'm just gonna take a quick nap on the cutting board here.

Mozart: you aren't seriously entertaining the idea of making those dumplings? that traitorous pelmeni? i consider you a cad.

Ramsay: of course. it says right here on the ticket Putin Pelmeni. and those dumplings are so cute they can't be that bad.

Mozart: for shame. Europe had a better sense of things when i was in it. what's the point of a lineage? you've let us all down.

Ramsay tries to flick the salt into the batter salt-bae-style but is too exhausted. Carmen does it upside down.

Ramsay: whajureckon?

Mozart: they taste like dog balls.

Ramsay: *tearing up* okay, hold on, let me make you a treat i know you'll love, mozartkugeln.

Mozart: the fuck?

Ramsay: it's good chocolate with gooey centers, like your gooey heart.

Mozart: it tastes like dog shit. but more egregious it LOOKS like dog shit. you have the balls to name this after me?

Ramsay: dammit man you're gonna make me cry.

Mozart: aw widdle ol' effeminate me in my sock tights and powdered wig makes the big strong man cry?



Madchen sits down finally.

Madchen: i don't see what the problem is, Lysander.

Lysander Skull: oh you see me? you know i'm here?

Madchen: i got Maike as my Secretary of State-Run Housing and Truus as my trusty sidekick in charge of glass cannons. i'm writing my inaugural address as i speak. here's the galley proof.

Lysander: ma'am this is a constitution. you're writing a constitution.

Madchen: i need a man. to balance things out. i wish my son were here. how many were in attendance at my Inauguration?

Lysander: zero. it did worse than ESPNEWS and an afternoon television showing of the FIFA movie. this could mean one of two things: either nobody watches inaugurations anymore, or...

Madchen: streaming. it's killing television. i see all. i am the Seer.

Lysander: the Regular Show Seer?

Madchen: okay well i'm not as hip. btw see if the Seer is doing anything after the finale, we need her on our team. *lighting a cigarette* oh and close the door wouldya? it's too bright in here. i'm starting to see ghosts.

for a split second Madchen thinks she sees Hartwin leaning against the door's jar.

Lysander: can't. not a door. a hole. these walls are like glass.


the rain in the hyrulian countryside is starting to drop upwards and turn to gas in space. the bushes yield no fruit when slashed. the hunting party scours all sides for a solution. they come upon a deserted mountain flush in foliage. Harfi, still on all fours, gets her foot stuck at the foot of the mountain.

the cats: it's not a mountain. try to get out of it.

Harfi stands upright and jumps.

Eefus: this isn't a joke. look carefully. see what you have never seen before.

Harfi sniffs hard. her foot was stuck for a reason. there's something lodged between them. it's a tiny icon in the earth unearthed from all the shaking.

Harfi: wow. it's the flood emoji from instagram. but the thing is, it's exactly the same size as my flood-emoji icon on my phone. like it's tiny, 1 centimeter on all sides.

the cats: computers are getting more realistic these days.

Harfi holds the small square in the palm of her hand. a rumbling begins at the base of the boulder.

Herlina joins the chat.

Herlina: *panting heavily* wow. i just jogged over here. my knees hurt like the motherfucking dickens. they're killing me!

Eefus: you did it, child! you pulled it off. you finally saw beyond. there was always an extra layer to life, you just had to recognize it and peel it off. this goes for all you girls. you spent your whole lives


a massive wellspring of water bubbles from underground. it rises up and swirls inside the catastrophic cavities of the dormant volcano's interior. a tuft of green ash is all at the top preventing the eruption from blowing its lid. and it *apple reset tone* CRASHES the party. the deep abiding water spews up in a straight line, cold, freezing cold, covering the sky with its own blue. it forms into one gigantic wave which overshadows the entire massive planet of Kepler. it remains steady, steady height and steady width, and it solidifies into not only the center of the planet's core but the core of the universes themselves. the frilly white fingers of foam at its apex edge dance like comets. but then it slows down and you can see that it has a mind of its own. then it speeds up again. then it goes back and forth like an instagram BOOMERANG video.

everyone is moist. Eefus celebrates by gladly taking a long sip at the blue base of the wave's tail.

Eefus: this is it! the Wandering Wave. this is the real resource here, not me. you had to find it for yourself. you had to be led by your feelings. now i will be strong again, this is the liquid elixir i need to sustain for a billion years. no need to war over me anymore, i'm yours!


Musculo in the desert. he swings at the air with his grand sword. the winds are so strong they are able to batter the flat rough edges of the sandy plains, smoothing them out. Musculo sees the apparition of the white woman in the distance. he runs to her as fast as his cloud under him can take him, outlasting and outplaying the offing. he lunges at her with his sword.

Musculo: shake my hand, miss, please.

the white lady giggles, loses her face, and turns into a rock.


at that exact moment, the moment of the eruption is the same moment Herlina is not paying attention to the world.

Herlina: my water broke!

Herlina faints but luckily it's into the waiting tail of Eefus, who wraps both lives equally, carefully, and warmly. Eefus sighs hard externally through her nose and uses her other tail to wag furiously happy.

Monday, January 16, 2017


1. if you were forced to wear a warning label, what would yours say? Slippery When Dry
2. if you were a Sesame Street character, who would you be? AN ORANGE MAN I LIKE, CLICK HERE
3. if you could have an endless supply of a candy or baked good, what would you get? CLICK HERE

by baked you mean baked, right?

4. who is your favorite villain? why? Beerus. i know he destroys halves of planets and everything but he's a cat, a precious little adowable little beautiful pretty kitty little kitty kat on my lap
5. are you more in tune with sunrise, daytime, sunset or nighttime? I LIKE MY COOKIE MONSTERS HOW I LIKE MY MOONS, CLICK HERE

bonus: if you took a job out of your current career path, what job would you take? cat-cafe owner. two of my favorite things combined. i've never had a job but i love cats and i love coffee so it should be alright. i'm subscribed to Starbucks on youtube so i know how to make all their drinks in my basement. their new cascara latte might be a problem cos apparently you have to wait five years in South America or something and i don't have a passport. i accidentally clicked on cascara while looking at makeup videos. let's build it on the beach so we don't have to worry about kitty litter.


let's see if Eileen saves the universe in the series finale.

love today. put your hate in your pocket. at least for today. love today.

Friday, January 13, 2017



* diversity...........check. don't talk or we'll have to pay you...........check.

* pitch: Tron meets Mad Max

* the headband both protects from the dry summer heat and prevents the brain from imagining many mirage oases along the endless desert tundra

* Ace is dead. you pushed the wrong button. it's hard with gloves.

* this is why we lost the war.

* damn. okay, pay you with a check not cash........check.

* tell that to Sully.

* in the future, David Cassidy led a ragtag band of reject musicians who missed their auditions. they called themselves The Apostles...

* in their defense, back then the green screens were painted with green lead paint.

* okay but you can't see the wires, right?

* that aircraft carrier's not really there.

* shit, i just looked at myself in the rearview. i really need a haircut.

* if i get out of this, i'm gonna name my firstborn Will Ferrell.

* come on, man. i know you're under a lot of pressure but there's no need for the Nazi salute.

* floating head. my head's in the clouds. from imagining this script. or it's all that Hollywood blow i keep doing at key parties.

* damn it, the wire messed up my grand entrance! i wanted to look cool in front of Elizabeth Taylor.


happy weekend. the de facto Super Bowl will be played this weekend...

Wednesday, January 11, 2017


this has got to be the surrealist Inauguration ever. and i don't use surrealist painters lightly.

Madchen: my fellow Lutum, the world is a scary place. and it's only gonna get scarier. now more than ever you must hold on to the few friends you have, clutch to their pearls and hang on for dear life. this isn't a new order, this is a new disorder. not a blue monday but a permanent seasonal affective disorder which lasts for four seasons...

Musculo gets up there each time and tries to string together a couple of words to get through it, but it's hard when you're the leader with an approval rating of zero. since the Lutum vote en masse there's no point keeping numbers. Musculo just happened to win at the exact moment the people's temperature was on his scale. they picked a good time to take it. of course later that night the Lutum had swung to Madchen as evidenced by the popular vote. he won but didn't:

Musculo: my fellow Lutum, um, so it's my duty as your sworn leader to look into any election shenanigans and shady dealings from that hack Putin even though that would undermine my legitimacy. i don't know how to proceed.

the crowd is weird. the Lutum in it are not so much supporters as observers. i mean he won but when you canvass the area you can never find one who actually voted for him. but perhaps it's just the Resistance making all the noise.

one thing is clear, though, resistance is fertile. it is one person, one vital person, or should i say one revitalized person. Carmen has found a purpose anew late in her life, though she is still a young woman. she preens in the middle of the bloodbath she caused. each time the time loops, the body count multiples and the streets run red with alien blue blood until she is the only one in the crowd. Musculo sees her in the crowd but it's not a love-at-first-sight thing, quite the opposite. at first glance, it seems Carmen is the generaless of an army of Lutum doing her bidding at her command. for they hang on her every word and stick their necks where they don't belong. but upon further inspection Carmen is so lightning quick with her pricks of her safety pin to random various folk's necks in the crowd it's not noted that she and she alone is doing all the killing. it's mass murder. ninja-style. her eyes are fixed in a tranceful gaze and but one devastating mantra falls from her lips over and over, a spell from one of her wiccan books in the forbidden backsection with all the unverified footnotes and sources. she lunges toward the stage with a zombie's alacrity:

Carmen: i hope he gets assassinated. i hope he gets...

in some timelines Musculo is just able to make an escape by sacrificing his female slaves as meat shields but all loops feature the same deranged man at the foot of the stage clapping and buckling his shoes, the only audience member who tallied the vote at the end:

Russell Brand: one plus one equals two. remember my friend, you must fight for what you believe in. never forget this. you must always fight. you must never concede. the fight must never end. fight!

it is not clear to whom Russell is speaking.


so it doesn't take long with Harfi's handiness and accidental-virus facebook friendship with Norm Abram's hologram to transplant all the campfire timber and nails and hammers and old wives' saws and mortar and paste and relocate to the


in the old establishment. new designs and patterns are put up as is wont for a new administration, and nothing is wanting. the tables are swept. and swept for bugs. and swept for terrorist bugs. the courtyard begins to grow fresh fruit, not just hamburger plants. and croquet comes back in fashion. and croquettes, Ramsay's hologram prepares the croquettes. the curtains are blue, actually, not pink.

Queen Madchen: blue was my sister's favorite color.

Madchen doesn't wear the crown cos it only fits a man's head size.


downstairs there is an eternal custody battle going on. for Herlina. Musculo barges in, breaks down the heavy creaking castle door demanding to take her back from Starscream, who sighs deeper and deeper and more internally with each timeline.

Musculo: wait, i don't want this pig. i was gonna flip this table but forget it.

Herlina: *cries* the baby's not yours! i can tell, it's metallic!

Maury hologram: YOU are the father. i don't know which one. i forgot. i don't think anymore.

Starscream: that's so metal! do i have to throw you on your rumps again?

Musculo: no, it hurts more each time. wait, i do want a son, i need an heir or my life has no continued meaning. um, honey, i can prepare you anything you want to eat, remember? how about a buttermilk pie? or an exotic melktert?

Ramsay: don't try to get european around me, french pig! first course, magische suppen.

Musculo: spanish actually. from the other side of the galaxy. the old old aeons old country.

Herlina: yummy. better than the Stones. magic is chicken soup and a boyfriend.

Starscream: let me write that down. can you get that soup at the Store?

Ramsay: don't bother with musclehead over here. looks like a dog's dinner.

the cats mew.

Ramsay: second course, caprese salad.

Herlina: yucky. i ain't vegetarian and i ain't gonna start now. i got a mouth to feed. and a baby.

Ramsay: third course, branzino, a decidedly european seabass.

Herlina: coat it in Fish Shake 'n Bake and you've got yourself a deal, scary sexy stranger.

Ramsay: all washed down with some orange juice 'n Coke, spezi, mezzo mix.

Musculo: okay, so i obviously know mezzo, i'm spanish.

Ramsay: don't confuse the borders. keep them brightly defined. yeah you know coke. i've dealt with cokeheads in my life. i'm definitely going to throw you out. get out!

Musculo slinks out and returns to his star fort on planet 2 Pallas.

Musculo: if i can't have offspring no one can.


Harfi witnesses the cats playing with each other in the open court area of the royal rope line. by which i mean the cats are wrestling with each other. when one gets tired, the other chases his or her own tail. Harfi finds the concept of chasing one's tail heartbreaking and begins to cry.

Harfi: i mean, it's this part of you that you define as foreign. it's a symbol of going after something you will never ascertain. you'll never get it no matter how hard you try. and it's a part of you so you'll always feel incomplete.......................the future is furry............


Hilary is first in the rope line as always.

Madchen stays planted on her throne.

Madchen: so what you been up to, mama?

Hilary: *giggling hard* no i call you mama. what's up, babe?

Madchen: that's queen b. i'm worried about all my subjects. how they're gonna make it. but i need you to be my friend. i must be friends with all powerful women. i need you to be in my inner circle.

Hilary: you're supported fine by that throne. well i was the one who did it. Bill...

Madchen: wow. black widow. props department. how are you with wearing a black latex pantsuit?

Hilary: *Jenna Marbles face* no, Bill and i started dating again. and well, i was the one who changed the Hollywood sign to Hollyweed. black-flag operation. no need to thank me, universe. not all heroes wear capes.

Madchen: nor much else. i see you're still wearing that ridiculous space-sex-slave uniform. don't tell me you're a cosplayer, too. you haven't sunk that low have you? are you stoned right now?

Hilary: *Hilary laugh* hey at least i did something for the cause, right?


Madchen: where is my fooder? summon him at once!

Ramsay: what you want, your royal highness slag.

Madchen: your food is horrible. i want Carmen back in the kitchen.

Ramsay: that's sexist! i quit.

Madchen: you're already a hologram, mah dahlin.

Ramsay cries for only the second time in his life.

Ramsay: leave me alone! i see the witch sometimes. late at night. not like that. i have a wife. and some kids. i see Carmen skulking at the waterwheel near the old mill. i summon her over to give her a lesson but she's not hearing it. she's either very determined and laser-focused, or she's a strong independent woman. she spends all her time at that wheel. it's like she's eating it. it glows gold. she casts her fingers on it but it just goes backwards from the rushing river. looks like a wheel of yellow cheese.


at the fort. on 2 Pallas. at night:

Lutum: boss, what are you planning? canvas the castle?

Musculo: already did. why do you have a male voice? no matter. don't wait up for me. i'm going for a long pee.........


Penyelamat is next in the rope line for Madchen to entertain. Penye is entertaining just by being so small. he whispers something in her ear and leaves.

Penye: i'm still right here actually.

Madchen:...remember, people, talk to each other, don't argue over the internet. the internet has destroyed more societies than wars. cyberwar is the future. my mentor Penye added that line for me...

Penye: it's true, i hate the internet. i had to recruit from wikipedia. i can't get a date cos i always have to lie about my height.

Madchen:...when i reflect on all i have lost, i shed a tear. internally. i will not cry. i will be steely in my resolve and dry in my eye. it's over. it's all over. we must be vigilant. i got that line from the internet. avoid all permanent alliances and outside influences. i got that line fed to me by my buddy Vlad...

Starscream: you're welcome.

the new Queen sits squarely on her throne and lies back.

Madchen: if you'll excuse me i'm in need of a shit and a shave. well at least a shave.

Monday, January 9, 2017


1. true or false: falling in love is a serious thing to do. explain. it's a serious addiction and must be thought of as such. i mean even Elvis himself couldn't help himself.

2. finish this sentence: i never knew _______ like this. pain. i mean rain. no flooding yet though the river has crested and the banks overtopped. they keep telling me about the flood threat but so far it's been just a threat. fingers-crossed emoji. cutting into my cartoons but whatever. i got sandbags and put them along the street curb. my next-door neighbor made fun of me and said the sandbags belonged against my garage door. that was the first time my neighbor paid me a visit in ten years. ten years ago he knocked on my door in the middle of the night to inform me the back sliding door of my volvo trunk was wide open. before i could thank him with my cottonmouth he got into my vulnerable volvo and sped away.

3. would you rather swim with sharks you know have recently bitten people or swallow live worms? why did you make that choice? the trick is to get the sharks to eat the worms. sharks are more afraid of you than you are of sharks. they just don't show it. they're very glassy-eyed. remember Fear Factor where you ate worms for money? now Joe Rogan does MMA which is kind of the same thing.

4. what is beautiful and most appealing about you? i had a banana right now to think about this one. i promise to refrain from any banana-peel puns.

5. what time is it RIGHT NOW? what were you doing before you started to play TMI TUESDAY? The Eternal Moment of Now. had a banana. that banana from before was my second banana. i'm always the second banana.

bonus: are you a little bit damaged? how so? somewhat, CLICK HERE


Friday, January 6, 2017



* do not watch this high.

* that's NOT oregano...

* happy belated National Spaghetti Day or whatever

* cheese or dandruff? sorry. Anthony Bourdain really fucked me up. he writes a hell of a comic book though.

* Smokey the Bear sued for copyright and lost. he started smoking. don't worry, it's once a day after breakfast just to take the edge off.

* Pasqually from Chuck E. Cheese's also joined in the lawsuit.

* this is authentic Italian. unless pizza and spaghetti were invented in China.

* big guys can still be connoisseurs. they just have to learn how to spit.

* i just realized i've never had wine with pasta...

* parmigiano? no? reggiano? no? dandruff? si.

* and the diet experts said pepper was harmless. oh shit, i'm starting to doubt experts, this is not good.

* that meatball seems to have a mind of its it's sentient...

* under a bush...too soon...

* i mean the meatball's still good, right? it's bacon bits now but it's still good. time to get back to work, you wasted your lunch break.

* me: so Lt. Cmdr. Data, was the meatball sentient?
Data: inconclusive. he said his name was Meatwad but he garbled the rest.
me: why are you dressed in a long flowing coat and white derby and toting a tommy gun? not all Italian bistros are mob hideouts.
Data: that's enough holodeck for today. i gotta get out more.

* me: waiter...
waiter: my name is not Mario.
me: i'd like a scallion pancake and some Chinese noodles...................
me: .................Marco.....
waiter: yes?
me: you're supposed to say Polo.

* i just realized my hands are frozen...



happy weekend. hopefully we don't get Flooded.

Wednesday, January 4, 2017


cat 1: what's your name?
cat 2: i don't know. i remember it, though.
cat 1: i feel it being changed on my tongue. but this soul feels comfortable no matter the breed.
cat 2: yeah i'm definitely gonna see that movie about the buddhist dog when we get out of this.
cat 1: do you feel the compression of your fur?
cat 2: yeah, the timelines are pushing into each other. won't be long now.
cat 1: i can see everything, everywhere, everytime, at once.
cat 2: but do you see me? that's all that matters.
cat 1: no wonder my eyes are so big and constantly sniffing.
cat 2: and let's be honest, this is cos our creator is lazy.
cat 1: that's definitely for sure.

the cats enter a celestial butthole in the stars. unawares of what they just did. they follow the path up the dark tubular canal clutching onto each others' paws and curling their tails together. so cute.

cat 1: like the dank abandoned underground subway tunnels we all used to congregate at in old york.
cat 2: how old do you have to be before you can't be cute anymore?

Musculo has been mortally wounded on the stage. he's lost two-thirds more blood than is necessary even for an alien. Carmen continues to stand next to him redhanded as it were holding the bloody safety pin. she must move but it's like she's been caught in a time warp. the screams of the crowd are muffled by both parties which begs the question and confirms the answer, no one can hear your screams in time.

for Musculo's part, he eases in and out of planes of existence always trying to look at his hand for a gauge. he likes it when he's in the cracked desert and talking to Codrus rather than when he's sleeping.

Musculo: there are no trees here but i don't feel cold.

Codrus: cos it's raining. and there are trees. you realize you lost. but you will be propped up in all timelines.

Musculo: uh, thanks. but i want to win. wasn't that the deal?

Codrus: excuse me? there are no resolutions. there are no christmas presents. you are either alive or you are dead. but please complain some more. non-gods i swear. we shoulda made cats the most intelligent. i told Fuerza to.

Musculo: that hurts me, boss. oh yeah, there's my tree. my sponsor. the one that keeps me up. that beautiful baobab yonder.

Codrus: the Grand Oak's cousin. pretty but not with enough gravitas.

Musculo: it's such a cool tree though.

Codrus: Madchen got the weeping willow. she wins. a real old soul who's seen real pain.

Codrus spits from his mouth a golden wad on the rocky ground and it lights up a makeshift campfire. he sets out the humble meal for the night. he splits the unleavened bread with his slave and his charge.

Codrus: i dunno but i bread.

Lieu: you like Oprah.

Lieu is careful with his laugh. he keeps in a squatting position dusting the sand off his shins.

Musculo: i don't eat.

Codrus: you gotta eat. no matter what you're going through. you must make time to nourish yourself. that's why you lost. for shame. we have all the ancient grains at our fingertips. you dishonor your ancestors. everyone's ancestor was a farmer. they raised us. the matzah and the roti and the, i mean you don't even like your native tortillas?

Musculo: i think i tried a flatbread pizza once but i spit it out.

the only thing which moves Carmen off that stage is a vision of a blue Russell Brand who gives the double thumbs-up to her and smiles so wickedly she can't help but laugh. Russell continues beaming, swishing his cheeks full of air back and forth and gesturing with his hands that he is steering the heavy wooden wheel of a pirate ship. he even covers up one of his eyes.

Musculo is seated on the toffee bottom of a cushion at a musty tea parlor. his slaves are now someone else's slaves as they serve stale tea in stained frilly french maid outfits and coiffed white wigs. but no one in that room cares about food, they are having too good a time. the atmosphere is smoky but no one is smoking. the Nutcracker Suite plays tinnily in the background out of creaky cranky heirloom musicboxes with ceramic ballerinas spinning with their eyes covered up in cheesecloth.

Bump and Vladimir Putin are shirtless and bro-hugging each other after each tweet they send to the other. they are laughing so hard you can see both their adams apples.

Bump's tweet: YAWWWSSSS
Vlad's tweet: LOLZZZZ
Bump: i don't know what i'm thinking from moment to moment. it's a moet moment.
Vlad: *smiley with the laughing tears* vodka my comrad, a real drink for a real madman. no need for sponsors.
Bump: Korea can suck it.
Vlad: can't find it. which one? *smiley tears*
Bump: bumpcare. come in to my office and i'll take care of you. or you'll get bumped off.
Vlad: i heard about you and playing doctor. we have socialized medicine. so we have no medicine. just vodka. vodka for Russian winter. *smiley tears*
Bump: i'd bro-fist you across the pond but it's a frozen lake!
Vlad: come visit. stay forever. winter is 9 months. our brisk cold air for good health. Russian winter is best.

Bump ends the session with an ominous one-word tweet: god

to which Vlad responds: ..............i don't know what that is.........

Musculo slumps his shoulders to fit the outline of his chair and hangs his jaw but soon finds he can't find the words. he is emblazoned in a lieutenant's uniform being held up by the shoulders with his frilly epaulettes.

Bump: get this man a stiff one. with LEMON. yellow lemon. what do you see up there, sir?

Musculo: a plane. of existence. a yellow submarine flying in the clouds.

Bump: *heavy accent* oh dear. you must get out of the cheese cupboard, little mouse. you don't see the timeline in front of you? clear as day. well i know things others don't. your army makes a preemptive strike and falls and fails. Carmen and her lady parts, they outwit the men with their magic and


Lieu: *whispers* ready for your inaugural address?

Musculo: what? it's my first time.

Musculo looks out onto the sea of people all looking at him blankly. this is not like those other times he practiced at a mirror. they are mirroring his ennui and lack of fun. the Lutum instinctively know where the action is and they all turn to a local cafe with a protester outside. except the protester is a Bump voter.

the protester is an average-looking short pudgy white male with straight sandy hair, an untucked blue shirt, and beige slacks. he saunters into the place with a new-found confidence and orders his coffee black with just a hint of salt. Russell Brand working the counter doesn't quite get the order right and grins devilishly. he looks good in that green apron, though.

Russell: fudge. i added some fudge, mate.

protester: i'm allergic to cocoa. you better do what i say! you're the help. i voted for Musculo.

that's when Carmen, who's in line trying to calm down with a caffeinated drink, goes off and gores the protester in the neck with her pin.

Carmen: the fuck you say. like that means anything. voted for Musculo like that's a credit to your family name. just makes you a moron. one of the duped. you thought you were part of the revolution but you joined the wrong one. oh the joy in resisting! get the fuck outta here. i'll throw you out myself little man. kick. war on. onto the sidewalk with the rest of the deplorables. time to diversity your portfolio.

Vlad has positioned two of his armymen in line behind Carmen to strike up a timed conversation and camera-phone-film the whole thing.

agent 1: so miss, that felt good, huh? defeating your enemy like that.
agent 2: it really gets your hairs to stand on end. like a cringing cat you're let loose on the wild. once you get a sniff of's the ultimate food.

the agents begin licking the palms of their hands and using those palms to scratch their temples.

Carmen: yeah you're right. i feel it in my bones! more than any chicken bones i used as a witch.

Russell: girl we gonna need a beverage babe for tonight. can you cover my shift? i'm being knighted.

Carmen: sorry, sir, i'm gonna be busy. i'm the Leader of the Resistance! *closed fist*

Russell taps the mic as Musculo drools into the podium and it seems Carmen's stony visage has been transferred to Musculo's gray face.

Russell: you caught a cold. hello? anyone home?......well of course someone's home...

Musculo strainedly gets out, "i had a dream..."

Russell: okay, let's get this ceremony crackin'. Your Highness, if you will.

the Queen of England glissades onto the dais like a snail. she is not looking well but still proper.

Queen: smooth along. is this for the band Queen? that Freddie Mercury has the sexiest moustache.

Russell: no ma'am. knighthood. me, Andy Murray, and the black guy.

Queen: well of course. tut tut and all that. hand me the sword.

the thin iron sword is so heavy the Queen breaks in half and turns to dust but not without leaving a parting shot. she coughs into the face of Russell Brand leaving him covered in phlegm.

Russell: blimey. guess i'm king. on with the show. i got a real sword.

Russell pulls out a lightsaber from an air pocket or something in his plaid jacket and activates it. it makes the familiar SHEATH sound (like a cat) and crackles and vrooms with blue energy.

Andy Murray is first in line and he bows down to accept the sword on his shoulders.

Russell: oh but you Scottish, aye mate?

Andy: well, uh, yeah i guess.

Russell lands the lightsaber on both of Andy's shoulders, burning them.

Andy: ooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! still less painful than haggis.

Russell: arsemunch. *laughs* just kidding. sorry, mate. 'tis a flesh wound. a singe. alright, i hate tradition, i'm in the business of breaking tradition but let's go back to the play-sword for the time being. next. Hilary?

Hilary: *bowing in a sex-slave outfit* it's better than nothing. i love this carpet.

next to her is Bernie.

Hilary: *whispering loudly* where have you been?!

Bernie: had some clams at Cafe Rio and was in the bathroom for a month.

as Bernie makes his way down the greeting line another dignitary takes the reins and does the honors. he is a midget dressed in a long flowing green robe.

Penyelamat: little person. except i'm not a little person. i'm a small man with a large heart.

Penye bops Bernie on the head with his knotty staff knocking out the last of Bernie's white hair. Bernie's Brooklyn accent really comes out and becomes more pronounced.

Bernie: wha, wha? i'm walking here! i tried, i tried.

Penye: not hard enough. you could have saved us from this mess. next time take at least one trip to Russia.

Hilary breaks the fourth wall, bites her finger, and looks into the camera with a pensive, "Penye!"

Russell Brand begins dancing on stage. he gesticulates as only Russell Brand can. he begins to form in and out of various blue shapes. first he's Jesus then a fox before he settles on Lysander. but he finds Lysander boring and jumps up and down and runs to the ceiling of the domed roof where he stands motionless. he transforms into his final form, the Trickster, before scampering out a hole. Lysander comes crashing down and almost dies but rubs his head anyway.

Lysander: what happened? ouch. remind me never again to turn into Russell Brand.

at the real Inauguration a week later the drone cameras are set up in the air of the open-air ceremony at the base camp. a campfire burns as always shining a rather peculiar light on the proceedings. ominous but cool. the two cats come out of the mouth of the Sphinx on the shifting sands and sit down in loaves on the head of the mythical beast with a perfect overhead view. Madchen sits on her makeshift throne of sticks and stones. she tries to sound important. she sounds like a mother.

Madchen: um, i didn't want this but tragedy always strikes at the wrong time. it is my destiny and my death. but i promise i will never leave you. i may not be in this form but i am me, throughout all of time and space. i am universal. as big as my butt. we all have butts. we are losing artists and gaining politicians. like my son always said we must return to art. war belongs in paint, not in practice...

the cats jump down from the Sphinx's head and slide down its tail. they glide along till they reach the stage. seated to the right of Madchen is Carmen. to the left is an empty tuffet, Herlina is on leave.

cat 1: what is your name?
cat 2: Ese.
cat 1: seriously?! my name is Siam.
Ese: why i gotta be stuck with Ese?
Siam: hahahahaha. ese. vale ese! que tal vato!
Ese: i used to think that was funny.
Siam: that movie will ALWAYS be funny! come on, be proud, there's no harm in owning your roots.

the cats jump onto Carmen's lap and purr. they do not look at Madchen. Carmen has tears in her eyes for the first time in a while.

Carmen pets them but the cats recoil.

Siam: we tracked you.
Ese: by the blood on your hands.
Siam: only pet us once.
Ese: you must save our heads.
Siam: we must be preserved for all generations in all times in all places to find comfort.
Ese: our hair must last.

Musculo finds a warm place on the other side of the desert by his baobab tree. he sits under it and finds himself there most nights whenever he loses consciousness. it's never cold, always slightly humid. stirrings of Beatles songs always lose themselves over the mountains.

Musculo looks out onto the expanse. he always sees in the distance a white woman gliding along the hard sand. and Codrus with a hand.

Codrus: y'know a white lady is both a ghost and a cocktail. you mean you don't drink, either?


Monday, January 2, 2017


1. how is your year going? not good
2. did you go out on NYE or have a New Year's Day celebration? once i got my hands on a couple of tallboys i blacked out...
3. ah yes those pesky New Year's Resolutions. how did you do with your 2016 NY resolutions---did you keep them? there are no resolutions. there are no christmas presents. you are either alive or you are dead.
4. year 2017, are you carrying over any resolutions from 2016? what? i always try to be a better person but it never works out
5. what new experiences are you hoping to or planning to have in 2017? Instagram Stickers!!!

bonus: did you see fireworks on New Year's Eve? take that any way you want *winky face*

i'm on instagram. it is not an exaggeration to say that on New Year's Eve i saw a billion explodings of fireworks. if i see another firework again i will become a firework.


happy something something. let's all just hope for the best.