Friday, March 31, 2017



* i know, i know, i don't have time to watch Stranger Things, stop rubbing it in.

* Ferris Bueller + Ace Ventura = ?

* ass 10, face 10, but pizza is just like sex, remember that saying we all learn?

* girl: his ass is like a 5.

* Ferris: i'm good at jumping and breaking the law. i'm the perfect Olympic athlete.

* Ferris: what are you cooking, mister?
man: McDonald's steaks.
Ferris: yeah right.

* son, you just drank lighter fluid!

* Ferris: it's a stylish red jeep, but it ain't no motherfucking DXP oven car.

* Ferris: hello ladies. which one, which one? the red pill or the blue pill?'re both on the pill, right?

* i know i'm supposed to know this dad but all movie dads look the same.

* aren't all backyard trampolines banned?

* '80s story time: it only came into play for me once, when i was a fragile 8-year-old boy. my parents were away with my teacher or something and i ordered myself on the big-boy phone. my parents gave me enough bills this time, i didn't have to roll any coins. the dude was like 2 minutes late coming over the bay bridge to my house in Van Nuys. it took 32 minutes total. it was raining. i gave him the puppy-dog eyes trying to get it for free but he wasn't having any of it. he was in a mood. girlfriend broke up with him or something, i had no idea what a girlfriend was. he just stood there on my porch shaking his head and twirling that insulated sleeve box they use to keep the pizza warm, which incidentally is made of the same material they use to pad insane-asylum rooms. i paid for the pizza.



* be honest. against your better judgment and your better logic, despite decades of physical and psychological proof, you crave Domino's Pizza again. you know better, but you can't help it. you want Domino's for dinner. tonight. you haven't had a Domino's since they served it in those boxes where the domino took up the entire cover of the box. damn these ads, man.


happy weekend. remember, life itself is one big April Fools' joke.

Wednesday, March 29, 2017


power outage.

Ari gathers her family, her two small sons, her little girl, and husband and feels through the dark for a large cardboard box. which isn't there.

Ari: ain't that the way? i swear it's within eyeview always cluttering up my ornate parlourroom living room with its eyesoreness. but the second there's a crisis it's gone.

little girl: don't forget the cats, mama!

Ari: honey would you be a dear and fetch the critters? i know there are candles somewhere. i'll take off my jesus socks if i have to and step on 'em.

sons: but it was a new episode of Spongebob, the one where finally the original creator comes back! we're already bored!

Ari: the Lord will provide. *dirty look* and silence His enemies. the one thing we need as a family above all is peace and quiet. to think. ahhhhhhhhhhh. thank you, power outage. no more mindless tv drone.

little girl: but mama you like watching that man on the tv you like.

Ari: he's a good reporter.

sons: but it sucks cos we can't see! we can't see in front of our faces! why couldn't this happen during the day?

Ari: language. and mysterious ways. fuck, i'm gonna miss my audition, aren't i...

sons: language! language!

Ari: what is this? my big toe landed on the tip of a screwdriver. i've been looking for this screwdriver. when i needed it for my non-electric blowdryer. now i don't. maybe for the breakers out back?

husband: already reset. such a goofy exercise pulling those levers and pushing them back. that's never done anything, ever, in all the years i've been alive.

Ari: what is this? your razorblades or mine?

little girl: it's the cats, mama, biting you hello.

Ari: huh, i feel no pain. the power of prayer. and i'm too annoyed to feel pain. and i can't see anything. the little fleabags.

Ari: bitch, the pain response alerts to other areas in your body. now i'm hungry. or hangry. i knew i should have moved up the groceries but everything has to be in its own little time slot squeezed in for maximum busyness. one thing this does is force you not to have a schedule. a yogurt and cigarette do not a lunch make.

sons: language!

Ari: just going through my script. reading what's on the page. i act it i don't write it.

sons: you can see?

Ari: shit!

sons: language! this is a fun game.

Ari: shoot. shoot. i said shoot. guns are okay.

sons: we never got the logic of that. it never quite squared with us.

Ari: here! finally. the candles. are they supposed to be dripping wax like that?

little girl: that's not wax.

Ari: anybody got a match? never mind i got a lighter.

husband: you said you quit smoking the day we got engaged.

Ari: uh, i loved being pregnant! and woman discovers fire. now why are my matches all wet? come on!

sons: what about that huge lantern in the kitchen? that thing is an eyesore. and it looks like a blender. cept it's not a blender. we always go in there every morning craving a banana smoothie and leave the room unsatisfied.

Ari: oh yeah, last Christmas. from the makers of that flashlight that uses the explosion from a nuclear bomb to power it. i think i still have it. somewhere. to the kitchen, gang. watch your step.

Ari: feeling around in the dark, rummaging through china, breaking valuable irreplaceable china that was for the kids' college, and here! there are six holes, with six long screws loosely in each hole. need the screwdriver.

husband: haven't seen it. while i'm at this cupboard i'll get the loose tea.

Ari: begorrah. at least spark those candles. yes! small victories! the damp match still worked. kids, kids, keep an eye on the candles. now we can read the instruction manual.

husband: this isn't cos i'm a man but i don't do instruction manuals. i'll use my forefinger to screw if i have to.

Ari: oh honey no you just got a manicure.

husband: i like salads. i like eating those weird mushy organic salads with you in the car when i drive you and you're in a rush.

little girl: mom, the candles just flipped over and fell down.

sons: don't worry, there's no fire.

Ari: i'd cover my eyes with my palms in disgust but there's no point. i'd do it with my teeth but i just got veneers. looks like this expensive piece of machinery is out. looks like a mini spinning lighthouse light.

husband: the manual was in French anyway.

Ari: i speak French. remember when we went to Paris?

husband: no.

Ari: now what. does your phone work?

husband: it only lights up but there's no data. it tells me to find out when the outage will be over, go to this website. but because the power's out i can't access the website.

sons: mom we're hungry! and we have to go to the bathroom!

Ari: how are those two things possible and congruent? pull on your sister's pigtails some more. and girl when they do that punch them in the privates. we're bonding here. we'll always be close. we won't have a family like Cain and Abel.

husband: this is starting to get scary. i'm scared.

Ari: we need those special lights that run on batteries but the batteries are apparently everlasting cos there's no way to access the hatch in the back to replace the batteries. they have a hook and are quite cute. look like swirly seashells. solid glass covers the six lights. and it's easy to operate. you merely push the button in the center and the lights come on and stay on. all through the night. the ultimate nightlight. Mike gave us some last Christmas.

husband: who's Mike?

Ari: uh, just some guy i auditioned. didn't get the part, was trying to sweeten me up. director problems am i right?

little girl: mom, the cats are going crazy.

sons: mom, we're not tired in the least.

Ari: remind me to move up your bedtime. just add it to my schedule in crayon. sigh. but you're right it's too early to sleep. or maybe i'm just wired. gather round, family. let's play a game. puzzle? probably not. sitting around talking to each other in meaningful conversation? not so much. oh i know! let's sing a song. the piano still works, right? let's do a head count. use your fingers. everyone here?

little girl: mom, i'm getting wet.

Ari: way too early, dear. watch Spongebob with your brothers.

sons: no, water's coming through the mantel, can't you feel it?!!

Ari: bricks aren't what they used to be. let's everyone settle. no need to calm up. i found the keys. tickling as we speak, never panic. repeat with your voice after me, Silent night, holy night...


sons: do Night Ranger "Sister Christian".

Ari: i'm playing "Healing Water" on this here piany and that's final.

sons: we're not in the mood to sing.

little girl: speak for yourself.

husband: FUCK!!!

Ari: see? it's not my fault. okay, fam, hold each others' hands in a circle and we'll recite the Lord's Prayer.

husband: can we sing it?

Ari: sure, kids. our father who art in Heaven...

Ari's phone lights up when they start praying. Ari notices it and quietly pushes a button on her phone.


at the station, the national weather report that still feels like a local weather report is about to start right pinpoint on time as always. Jackie is carousing and snort-laughing and tipping the cap off the female who mans the camera and is plain-looking.

Mike: that dress is tight as fuck. by which i mean it's cool...

Jackie: oh you mean it's supertight around my body. *snort* stop making me laugh, baby boy, you know i'm on in five minutes.

Mike: *hugging the camera* if you get lost, remember your cleavage and your heels, lows and highs.

Goody Paul entrances and slides into a handshake with Mike.

Goody: the man. this weather channel's highest-paid and best-known celebrity. how's your tutelage under Jackie going?

Mike: i've always wanted to fuck a Kennedy. i know you're not supposed to say such things in front of management but we're all friends here, right? you really think i got the face to be in-studio talent?

Jackie: baby boy you got the face of a man, hardscrabble with a midnight shadow, getting the dangerous shot when no one else will, never blinking at the eye of the storm.

Goody: air conditioning is for weather wimps. we're the geeks. and late-bloomers. you're our soldier.

Mike: you know what i say, what doesn't tear a limb off you makes that limb more muscular.

Goody: okay Mr. Doesn't-Need-To-Wear-The-Blue-Jacket. you're off in five, right? see you tomorrow. oh the patches! now you have to wear the jacket. Jackie sewed them on her lunch break.

Mike: and baked chocolate chip cookies! i was with her in the breakroom. our Jackie is multitalented.

Goody: aw, i missed the cookies. here's yours.

Mike: bowl of red spaghetti, i love it! make sure the Mouth from the South over here gets the Rolling Stones tongue.

Jackie sticks out her long skinny tongue.

Goody: i prefer the Beatles.

Mike: not rap? the Beatles are like the professors, the Stones are the foreign-exchange students. did i ever tell you how i got that nickname?

Goody: mama said.

Mike: my mom was none other than Martina the Rose.

Goody: The Lady in Blue?

Mike: that blue dress was something special. made saints into suitors. she emigrated from Catalonia. i've got gallant genes, gallant catalan. she was an instant hit in Italy. the hottest flamenca dancer in the old world. nothing in the lands could prepare them for her style of sex.

Goody: heard about the last show.

Mike: she retired early. but what a way to go. the stage curtain drew open, she got up on her high heels, matinee mind you, left her heels on, disrobed her frilly flamenca dress, lined up all ten of her beefcake backup dancers in a row in front of her, twirled their little cute bowties, and fucked all 10 in a loud, open-air orgy for 3 hours.

Goody: and they say theatre is dead.

Mike: she even bowed at the end of the three hours. only one to do so. and with that, i bid you adieu and take my bow.

Mike pushes the climate door out hard and walks toward the parking lot on instinct. he passes the high hum of the generator and his phone flashes in front of him when he gets under a streetlight. he reads the message:

it's an icon of a flashing mermaid with flashing blue letters underneath:


Mike pushes on the mermaid icon.


Monday, March 27, 2017


1. what question about sex do you find hard to ask your partner? sometimes i just want to cuddle but it's hard to cuddle when i'm wearing a gimp suit.

2. what question about sex do you find hard to ask anybody? it's not ideal to ask my mom about the Human Centipede but i do it cos she's a nurse.

3. sexually, what are your favorite things to do? i cum in her mouth, she cums in my mouth, then we sit down for a quiet dinner under a pink neon light with chequered napkins on our laps as we enjoy beet salad with some Paul Newman Creamy Caesar. to cleanse our palates.

4. name 3 things which most excite your imagination when you imagine doing them. thinking about what to write, forming legitimate plotthread chains and connections as i conceptualize, and having my characters have sex. the actual writing of the story is boring.

5. in how many countries have you had sexual relations? i can't divulge cos some of the stuff i've tried is illegal depending on the country.

bonus: describe your ideal sex partner. whoever's reading this, it's you, you are my perfect fuck.


Friday, March 24, 2017



* old shaman: i was told there would be a famous band. where's the music?
woman: in your head. what's up with the Santa Claus beard?
old shaman: it's an important question you ask. who is Santa Claus?
woman: your facial hair?
old shaman: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH my chin is alive! i never noticed! i don't own a mirror!

* old shaman: trains are romantic.
woman: and phallic.
old shaman: what's that?
woman: you know, the long train goes into the long cavernous black hole tunnel. sex.
old shaman: what is sex?
woman: how you were born.
old shaman: i woke up one day on this train. they asked for my ticket but i didn't know what that was. i've been on this seat ever since. shaving cream is something you eat, right?

* old shaman: when you peeked over your neighbor's fence, what did you see?
woman: a body.

* woman: will you marry me? *kiss*
man: i can't see your face in all this neon light. give it one morning.

* driver: word of warning, the soldiers hate the Peace Corps.
woman: why do you hate me so?
soldier: who are you?
woman: a magical redheaded woman. who are you?
soldier: the Peace Corps.

* the woman rushes to save the refugees and embraces a boy out on the lapping shore waves tight.
woman: i am the earth mother, and you, sweet orphan, are now my son.
father of the boy: i didn't drown, i'm still here!

* woman: it's not the same protesting without a clever sign. like i was gonna do one WHY THE LONG FACE? to the cop on the horse.

* woman: i so wanted to join that cult with the waterfalls and petals in the water and the blue shawls and shampoo jars.
husband: why didn't they let you in?
woman: they said i was a ginger with no soul.

* woman: i am so excited for this wedding. *cheek kiss*
bride: thank you for coming.
woman: so who's getting married?
bride: me and your husband.
woman: did he pull the neon thing on you?

* bride: HEY! stop with the loud clapping! you're clapping too loud! some of us are trying to get married over here!
woman: sorry. never been a maid of honor before.

* woman: don't worry, i can carry this heavy container of water on my back. i'm made of strong celtic stock.
worker: we're at war with the Celtics.
woman: Knicks fan, huh? i can see why you're so angry all the time.

* worker: these mothers have to carry water on their heads while lugging their kids miles every morning. that's a tough life.
woman: i'm never drinking water again. and i'm never having kids. just give me my fit tea and adult coloring book and call it a life.

* old shaman: AHHHHHHHHHHH what happened!!!??? why are you an old ugly woman with wrinkles!!!???
woman: it's hard out there in the real world. it ages you fast. why are you a boy now?
old shaman: you must be a shaman, you are perceiving my mental age. are you my mommy?
woman: yes. yes. i am definitely your mommy.


happy weekend. when you're on a train, avoid tunnels and bridges...

Monday, March 20, 2017


Billy Corgan is my Babyman Crush Eternal

1. what did you do with your very first paycheck? yacht

2. besides paying recurring bills, what did you do with your last paycheck? the banks don't trust me around money. i have a stipend. Michael Stipe comes over to the house every Tuesday afternoon for a welfare check. he brings buns and beads. he has a lot of time on his hands since R.E.M. disbanded and there's only so much spiritualing you can do. i'm a trust-fund kid. the banks don't trust me with their funds.

3. there is only one brick 'n mortar store allowed to remain within 200 miles of your home. what type of store would you want this to be? or specific brand. that's a bad law. probably a hip record store. notice i said hip, not hipster. or better yet a Borders. remember Borders? i met my first NIN-loving goth gilf at Borders. for a few years there Borders was everything. Borders was the future. i was seriously considering joining Team Borders. my first team. my first real job. i would work at Borders till i was old and gray, then i'd be worthy of the gilf. by the end of the year the entire behemoth leviathan Borders empire went out of business. right around Christmas time, perfect. you should have seen the size of the twelve-wheel semi truck that came to our little rinkydink cavernous chapter of a store. a neverending cascading waterfall of books, music, and crusty croissants cleared out, liquidated, and bathroomed.

4. you are only allowed and able to access one website for an entire year. which website do you choose to be your one and only? one and only, very Pumpkinsesque. they've already gotten hacked so they won't get hacked again. and the CEO is a milf.

5. what makes you cringe---in life, at work, in the bedroom? the word "cringe". cringe used to be a cool word but it got appropriated by the millennials. now whenever i see


in a youtube comments section, i cringe.

6. what can you do better---in life, at work, in the bedroom? attend to her needs, not just my selfish, slimy, greedy, wanton needs. like go on a romantic train ride before the train.

bonus: if you could be anywhere right now, where would that be? in a log cabin. underwater. air-tight. so no sound can get it. peace and quiet. i can finally catch up on my backlog. so much to pore over. '80s Stephen King books. '80s mech anime. not-'90s comic books. i'm so behind. Sasha Grey quit porn? Sesame Street has an autistic puppet? Voltron: Legendary Defender? i need to move on. there are three titles left in my netflix queue: Blue Is the Warmest Colour and the Tim Heidecker cinema verite and the Neil Hamburger western hero's journey. thank you Tim for being an angel of mercy. these are the only three films i want to see before i die. i mailed the two discs today finally after two years. i have to come to grips with the fact that i just don't care anymore about How to Train Your Dragon and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. the sex was wonky and the violence was weird. the remake i'm talking about, the original Swedish version was good.


Friday, March 17, 2017



* Johnny Depp: i normally use a saw to cut this axe.

* Johnny: this isn't an original song but it's my band covering it and we're playing the Viper Room so

* Johnny: i'm not trying to be cool, these are prescription shades.

* Johnny: i need to get away. too much noise pollution in the city..............this has nothing to do with any allegations i'm trying to escape

* Johnny: which way? oil? hell no. donuts? yes, making donuts.

* Johnny: i don't know. do you, buffalo?
Buffalo: i'm a bison, get it right, hollywood.
Johnny: does my car look black to you?
Buffalo: midnight blue.
Johnny: i need to change my shades. where do you roam, buffalo?
Buffalo: away from your car so i don't become a bison burger.
Johnny: i get it i get it, you are of the streets and can never escape.

* Vulture: i'm the new national bird. the Bald Eagle got rogaine and retired.

* Johnny: get that mangy mutt off my roof! i just had it carwashed by a model's tongue.

* Johnny: digging my own grave.........literally.......and figuratively....

* Johnny: this necklace of New Orleans Mardi Gras beads was given to me by the wisest shaman i know. Jack Nicholson. who's an atheist.

Wolf: it's just rainclouds.
Johnny: i live in Los Angeles.

* Wolf: how many earrings can a man wear before he's considered a pirate?
Johnny: that's offensive. pirates can wear guyliner, too.


Johnny interprets it. he squats down Indian-style, pulls the roots out of a cactus and eats the prickles, strokes his chin and begins:

Johnny: the flying whale goes Free Willy on the leprechaun ass.

* Vulture: that isn't green beer. that's just bad beer...

* Johnny: you know what Sauvage means?..............sausage


happy weekend. don't smoke too many shamrocks today

Wednesday, March 15, 2017


we're here and now but will we ever be again?
cos i have found
all that shimmers in this world is sure to fade
away again

Madchen: there comes a time. and that's it.

Codrus: why are you lot so desperate for it to end?

Madchen: o don't act like you're not like us. i would rather be bored than busy.

Codrus: but after a while you miss it. busy than bored for me. i deal with a lot of empty time i have to fill.

Madchen: i suppose there's no point if there's no endpoint.

Codrus: you are thinking very laterally. expand your grid. and for fuck sake get off the grid.

Madchen: it all comes back to God. we're her...

Codrus: the problem is God doesn't want it. God has permanently retired from wikipedia, he hasn't answered his work email in months. and he's ghosting on his personal email. there is no God. there is only me.

Madchen: well then allow me the pleasure of zombieing the relationship back from the dead. you're right, being bored sucks.

Codrus: you suddenly see things more clearly when you're dead. you just don't get that in life.

Madchen: the journey, for all its nanowonders and clouds and flowers and trees, is but a rainbow. the destination is the bridge.

Codrus: close but no El Rey del Mundo cigar. QUIET!!! QUIET!!! QUIET!!! you know what's wrong with the world? the numero-uno thing wrong with life? NOISE POLLUTION. so much noise pollution everywhere. i shall remedy that soon.

Codrus's right side of his face begins twitching over his batty eye. the ring finger on his right hand starts vibrating. there's a yellow-green stain on that fingernail that hurts.

Codrus: i'm starting to lose sight.

Madchen: that doesn't look good. you should have someone look at that. seems you're concussed. from all your cussing. trees swallow up our pollution. *smiles* the key is trees, isn't it.


the Sword of Saad slices Madchen up like a carved turkey. except it's not Madchen on the throne. it's her twin sister Mitral, the one who died too early.

Musculo: well fuck me silly and call me Shirley.

Madchen has been picked up by SpaceX and the two are hovering above the green spellline cast by the earthy witches below. to the right is Codrus's face on a gigantic sun.

Herlina: *shouts at the sky* son! son! how are you? are you eating your fuel? hey remember this? it's your favorite cartoon when you were a kid.

SpaceX: na ma, it's not the same. the Teletubbies sun was creepy with the baby's face. this is creepy with a manbaby's face.

Codrus: i've coalesced and consummated all of the Stones in all the universes to power this heavenly body. from now on i have named this Sun Tenebris. and it was good. i deem it. there are no more Stones, Tenebris is the Stone. i'm trying to shape it in the form of a square but the circle shape keeps climbing through.

Madchen: well at least there's no more drugs on the street. o how i missed you, my late sister. i'd hug you but it's too late. i love you, Mitral, more than myself.


Madchen: i just love how you sound like Joan Rivers.

Musculo: *flipping* i'm looking through the rest of this script with my highlighter and i don't see any lines for me. right? okay, i'm heading to Chili's early for buffet bingo.

Codrus: don't bother with mithril, no precious metal will protect your precious cargo from my slings and arrows. wear your shame with your armor. no mail for you.

Madchen: the Sword of Saad has a way of cutting through the most intransigent of bullshit. my old men taught me so. y'know it just fits perfectly that you're a Tolkien nerd.

at the desert Codrus and Musculo meet one last time and take a break for a field trip.

Codrus: this is the cemetery. look at all these shiny unmarked graves, hewn with care from the richest white marble mined from the hills yonder.

Musculo: must be 24,000. magic. but my eyes are starting to go. i like your purple vest.

Codrus: all cos of the death spirals. bad trade deals that didn't make it. bad healthcare rolls which rolled along.

Madchen: no. they are marked. with stars on top. they all followed the same religion. your religion. these lives are all your fault. they are the direct result, the consequence, of your lies. words are such powerful trinkets.

Codrus: hey who's teaching whom here? i do the lesson.

Madchen: you are the lesson.

the black turns sky.

Musculo: can i get a drink of water?


at the curse circle

Madchen: prayer circle

the ladies are wrapping up their binding spell. it doesn't take long to unleash havoc.

Madchen: which is why we have to hex the havoc. the shaft is at the elevator shaft, right? squeeze your fingers, bitches, give Bump a tug.

the cats roll over cute for the ladies to pause and rub their bellies. they climb on each shoulder of Madchen.

the cats: miss, this is your best opportunity. this time will never come again. in any timeline!

Madchen: what are you saying? i don't speak cat.

the cats: yes you do. you're the ultimate cougar. the last stone we gave you. unmarked. you have the chance to place an eternal curse. don't waste it on freedom fries.

the cats nudge the blank block to Madchen's hemp ankle bracelet.

the cats: *donning black-and-stars pointy witch hats and chanting*


the cats: you have the wrong man! curse Codrus, not Bump!

Madchen: my eyes are flitting back and forth like a snake. you heard the men, girls, pump up those pythons and think of the worst fancy lunch you've ever had, that's basically Codrus.

Madchen slides the Sword of Saad out of Mitral's backside at the castle.

Madchen: sorry, sis

and writes the name of Codrus with the blade on the stone with a dusty screech.

Madchen: like nails on a chalkboard. but the chalk is already turning to dust. hurry my wiccans, the curst tablet is Stone, too!

voice: hello?

Madchen: hey Harfi! how are you, honey? how's life in the clouds? tell me all about it. did you get that carepackage i send you?

Harfi: i'm not on the front lines anymore, mama, i am the line. i wanted a different life but i'm living in a whole notha consciousness level over here. thanks for the grub. and Skinny Coffee Club. i don't have to watch my figure anymore. but man have i expanded. i'm really fat now.

Harfi lies naked forever in a galactic bathtub in the center-right of the universe. her thumbs have since pruned and she is fed plums all day by skinny cabana boys. and fed by water. water vegan pizza.

Harfi: it's one thing to feed off Reza Aslan documentaries, it's another to eat faith.

Madchen: ah, i'm glad Reza got out of that stuffy lion persona. he is cute.

Carmen dabs her toe in the tub.

Harfi: sis! well you look rested. dive in.

Carmen: don't mind if i do *splash* i'm just coming from the most brisk walk.

Carmen hangs a chainlink to a star. the link hangs onto a wire casket of bath bombs in the shape of Vader's TIE fighter. Carmen drops a bomb in the tub and it screeches as it dissolves.

Harfi: cute. and i thought the square bath bombs were radical.

Carmen: i was on a mission. to relax. i thought i better do this now that i'm dead. i heard about these special bath bombs and decided to see if they were in my area. y'know i've been so busy all the time i've never had a chance to actually explore the place where i'm from like a tourist. i actually originate in a quaint expensive village called Carmel. Carmen, Carmel, i know i know. if you can get past the initial walk through the long beach, this isn't San Diego, you come upon the shops 'n stops district filled with boffo boutiques who sell you their antique wares and owl keychains at made-up prices. all the shoppes have their pallets painted purple for effect. it's all rich privileged junk but you can't help but help them out cos of their smiles. they really are affable. not affably evil, just affable. you walk down the elm tree and cut a right at the oak tree. the streets are steep and the old six-tire classic cars are finding it difficult to traction down the hills. that's when you smile a little as you casually walk in your heels down the garden path. up two blocks to the hummingbird feeder and down one block to the three-tire display in a wooden crate that fronts the cute firestation that looks like a cafe, i reach the town square, which is one big pine tree. there, carved into the sequoia, which has always been known for its wood heart rather than anything green up top, is the soap store, the Arco Iris. the shopgirl is fresh into college and wears an inappropriate fur for a clerk. i hate her cos she's young and her couture and pussy are still juicy. she can still wear her hair wet. but ah such is the price of wisdom. she tries to upsell me but eventually i feel sorry for her more than anything. before she can feel sorry for me. the place smells of soap and soup. it's not lost on me that the ironic cobweb i brush away from the sill overhang when i pull the door out falls in my face. i spend the rest of my morning leisurely climbing uphill slower than the adorable ivy which adorns the bucks bistros, gingerly strolling along as i explore my city. the gray turns sky.

Harfi: that's the one thing i miss up here, the rain.

Madchen: thank you for that story, Carmen, i'm glad i took the time to listen to it. that nature grows like the Hotel Raphael where i fucked my first man.


Melania: what's our next move, girlboss?

Madchen: who's that? i like the M sound.

SpaceX: that's my girlfriend. or wife i don't know. things move fast in cyberspace, if you DM someone you're basically married. her brain is now my brain.

Madchen: marriage is cute.

SpaceX: no, literally. she's a robot, sorry Data android, and her programming now controls all my controls. i can't think for myself. she's in my head. i can't get rid of her. she's inside me 24/7 even when i'm in sleep mode.

Madchen: that's hot. yeah, that's what marriage is. oh, and it's not nagging, it's mansplaining.

SpaceX: don't tell my mom, she's gonna be so mad. i'm in so much trouble.

Melania: i'm your mom now.

Madchen: almost there. still coordinating the coordinates.


the Lutum are busy telling their last stories for antiquity. all around their square neighborhoods the streets are filled with flood. water-drenched but their fires aren't put out yet. they float on their beds. it's quite a silly sight to see like a billion beds everywhere on waves crashing into each other. one misses the old Victorian bedframe where Cotard is sucking the Russian ambassador's thumb and then the ambassador puts that thumb in his ass.

the Lutum: we had it all wrong. we are most awake in our beds. we built our houses in wood but nobody hearted it. they were tin triangles and rectal rectangles. we learned about inscape and instress. that's what breathes life into our hearths, our each individual stories we shared in our separate spaces. that's what makes it a home.

Cotard: hopped up on Hopkins

Kislyak: one sounds like a Silicon Valley reject startup, the other like a snowflake medical condition.

the Lutum: we traveled skinny and far for this information. the legends which pass the test of time are tested. not from the push of a button but by the peril of blood. our ancestors were axis. Archimedes axis. they walked a direct route on streets named after trees. like all of us they originated in the ocean. they climbed out of Kalk Bay...

Herlina: oh. sorry. i thought you said something else. continue.

Madchen: we need more chalk.

the Lutum:...and into Five Points, Manhattan, which pointed us to Prior Lake. *waving*

Cotard: i never knew you guys had five fingers to a hand. the Lake of Before.


on another bed, since their mansion was destroyed, uncomfortably sleep together tight as a burrito Richard Simmons and his maid. Richard's brother and yoga instructor/painter/masseuse/dj best friend are worried sick.

brother and yogist/dabber/rubber/dubber: we haven't seen Richard in years. he's disappeared from public view. the cops did a welfare check and said he just wants his welfare check. and his pynchon privacy.

Richard: it's been so long. i don't know if i'm in hiding or hating.

Maid: you did this to yourself. you started reflecting instead of revitalizing. you got deep instead of got distracted. you deeped. that's what happens when you start thinking. at least we're out in the open now.

Richard: why do you hold me prisoner?

Maid: i hold you captive, my dear, that's different. remember i said i wanted one private lesson for years of cleaning up your shit. everyone wants to be taken care of. that's why people love hospitals. then you turned around and called me Oldies and never did the lesson! i'm still waiting!

Richard: no i called you Sweaty. but i don't do that stuff anymore. *sigh* my stripes are at the cleaners. i had so much energy back then.

Maid: cos you were hopped up on improv comedy and insulin chocolate bars. the worst thing you ever did was go on a diet. you gotta be your normal rotund self. let yourself go and let God.

Richard: you smell so good. i want to kiss you...but i can't. is your name Lemon Pledge?

Maid: i'll wring you by your fro hairs!

Richard: y'know when Bump's immigration plan drops...

Maid: that's not happening! look, here, take this.

Maid hands Richard the Sword of Saad.

Richard: looks more like a butter knife.

Maid: okay it's the Knife of Saad. it's the Alpha model. the point holds. these are trying times. these are the times which try men's souls. all men. be who you are. eat, drink, and be merry. really merry. never doubt your worth. forget the past when you helped others, help yourself. self-care is free, not an expensive program. all that lost potential for good is also lost potential for evil. you're still here. all that wasted time, and yet there is only now. i shall be your jester. yaaaassss king. don't sell yourself shorts. you are a man.

Richard looks up and is blinded by the light. he nods slightly.

Maid: i am a Maid. i am Maid Marian. and i'll always admire courage.


Codrus: hey meet a player-character i unlocked. he's a leprechaun dwarf elf hobbit thing. ain't he cute?

Madchen: and yellow. hello, Pikachu.

Codrus: close. Pikachu Nefesh. only if it's to save a life. well yeah so he's a bit of a useless character isn't he.

Madchen: how can you hate your own creations?

a couple of white solar flares are spitting into Codrus's sun face.

Codrus: what is this? tastes like cum.

Madchen: your cum to be exact. mother's milk. working women. the spell is working.

Codrus: intrigue me with your ignominious indignity, you debonair dirty debutante dork ditches.

Codrus recalls when he tried to order pizza on a day when he was hungry.

Codrus: is this my imagination? i'm back here. i can never forget. hey you, brown guy with the bushy braid beard. get me my pizza.

Brown: i am Dr. Brown. this is my son's establishment. he died. in a tree. they couldn't get the car out. i was so proud of him. we don't do pizza by the slice after 4. the sun is down and my baby is been. respect our wishes.

Codrus: cultural suicide. an american eats what he wants when he wants. i'm famished you foreign fuck. want me to hop the wood carving-board divider drawbridge you have there and spill hot tomatoes all down your face? that's the Holi festival, right?

Brown: you are a pathetic person. and to think you come from the sands as well. you are a child of the sun and you mock your own people, your own kind.

Codrus: i can't understand your accent, it's all noise. i'm not kind. i'm a king.

Dr. Brown picks up a cup used normally for tips, fills it with water, holds onto the cup and shoots the water in Codrus's face, getting water all over Codrus's shiny new motorcycle jacket.

Dr. Brown: water has no accent, it's pure human.

Codrus: toss-up, tosser. except this water has a fishy aftertaste.

Dr. Brown: you are sick, my friend. i see it in your face. come, Mr. Satan, and have my medical experts take a look at your old sports injury.

Penyelamat and Lysander enter the pizzeria with their long gray beards intertwined with each other's faces.

Codrus: friend? that was a fast friend.

Dr. Brown: you are my friend now that you're my patient. i shall make you trottole, spinning-top pasta, perfect for you. and meatballs. i'll trot it out in ten minutes. it will come in a cellophane coffin box. to keep it warm. please be patient. it will be ready in 10 minutes.


SpaceX and Melania but really Melania: what about the cavalry?

Codrus: Calvary is reduced to rubble. i am Jesus now.

Madchen: thank you and thank you. you two showed me the coordinates on the map. got it! the location of the Wandering Wave! not you two. give it time. you still got time. that Wandering Wave was hard to spot what with the entire planet being covered in water. and the blue ozone zones crawling in ants.

Bump has taken the shape of the elevator shaft he's in. he has become a large long vessel into which others place roses and arrows which slide off and quickly fall out the big hole at the bottom to the bottom.

Bump: i want a bed.

Bump travels to Putin's driveway and picks him up. the added Russian stones glom onto the vessel and become the Power Vertical which takes up space in the sky. it's an axis which blocks Codrus's view.

Putin takes a selfie with him and Bump in bed.

Putin: you are in a mental institution. and still you manage to smile. i need to smile more. the nurses have propped you up and you have bandages around your hair. you look like one of those Russian anti-me bloggers i try to poison. yet still you give the thumbs-up.

Bump: i want to sleep.

Codrus: bad bye. bye Felicia.

Madchen: for fuck sake don't use the F word. F names are the worst. i am so hot.

the cats sense Carmen's dispirit and nerves. they crawl around in circles, stick out their legs and lick them furiously. they stick out their tails and fall down longcat-style in a straight line. their nervousness shakes back and forth and vibrates. the vigorous vibration begins to form the beginnings of a bridge to the Rainbow Bridge...

the cats start to wheeze. it's not a hairball it's animal anxiety.

an invisible hand pets them on the forehead.

Carmen: there. there. my precious beloved adorable squeezable loving bodies. i so admire nobility. with whiskers like arrows you kept your distance, standing guard at the doorsill when i made my slimy eggs and slimmy meals, not knowing yet if this was your home, choosing to take in the entire 360 view of the kitchen before mewing your concerns. about the food. and your life. and life itself. and my campy wiccan attire. now you comfort me again with your concern. a bridge not too far. feline feelings. you guard my emotions.

Madchen reveals the Sword of Saad she had been surreptitiously hanging low by her steel-skirted side with her other hand. she revels in it now, holds the beautiful blade up high in the sky, and swings it round.

Codrus, acting as the agent of Tenebris, slowly shoots for the core of the planet Kepler. Madchen flips the Sword of Saad over and holds it by the shaft. with all her matronly might she flies down on angel wings and plunges the Sword into the exact location, the exact spot, the coordinate of her career, the area of the ages, straight down the middle from the top of the Wandering Wave, cutting the Wave in two.

Madchen: now that's a slice!

the Wandering Wave spreads itself out into two polar weeping-willow-shaped opposites, raining downturned rain forever into the universe.

Tenebris flies into the Wave and is doused. it reduces to many times smaller its original size.

Codrus: not for individual resale!

Tenebris turns into the Sun. the Sun manages to escape becoming a completely-doused dark-star hot rock with no power and just sizzling steam but it has retained permanent damage and will not live as long as it could have.

The Sun arrives in the Solar System by Earth.

Codrus leaves the Sun.

Codrus: oh no not again. i fucking hate the world!

the markings on the burning glowing electric static Sword are unlimited in their scope. they leap off the blade and the page and spill out into the universe. the words never end.

Madchen picks up a pink-topped rock and with that same hand smashes it into her wrist.

Madchen: i see the glory! i see the stories! all of the stories. the Sword of Saad will preserve them for antiquity and eternity. these are the stories of all the alternate Earths and alternate universes. all of the stories of all of the people. they will continue down this line, forever connected but different. alone together. pretty plots and legion lots. shifting scenery and sifting settings. moveable motivations. love. hate. grass. knees on trees. characters steeped in chaos and carelessness carefully crafted to grow and gain and give up. they are not characters, they are us! to shine a light on a secret sob story. on different kinds of people and aliens. they don't want the attention so we give it to them. space isn't the end of god's thought, it's the beginning of a thought.


the world ends.

Madchen: i was saying i'm proud to be Dutch. it's like that one day when you don't answer your emails and everyone thinks you're dead.

Codrus: WAIT! who wins the mid-term elections?

Madchen: mid-term elections? never heard of them. just another day. it's like 24, no one wins in the end. except Black Bauer.

Codrus: WAIT! i got an alternative. what about the Pumapunku Stones?

Madchen: hopefully someone discovers them.

Codrus: WAIT! what is the one book that should be read?

Madchen: the dictionary. stay away from wikipedia. but support wikipedia with your dollars.

Codrus: WAIT! i had a fifth one...but i forgot it.

Madchen: isn't that the point?

Codrus: no it's the line. my line.

Madchen: that's the point.

Codrus: WAIT! is Rey Luke Skywalker's daughter?

Madchen: mother

Monday, March 13, 2017


R.I.P. One Piece

you were good to me. anime has ratings? maybe a little too much ear-shattering screaming. weird yo-ho-hos. i never want to hear from Gol D. Roger again. 15-minute recaps. but you distracted my stress and gave me lifelong nakamas. you finally gave me that cruise. i love that you'll never end. we'll always have 4Kids. i want to be like Luffy. adventurous, not asexual. the decision for bigger boobs was a good one, too.

1. what is the first thing you do when you wake up? depress
2. what is the last thing you do before you go to sleep? cry
3. are you a giver or a taker? both. that's why i never get anywhere in life.
4. if you had to give yourself a new name, what would it be? The Fashionably Early Phoenix
5. a world-famous chef has asked you to make dinner, what would you make?


bonus: what's the worst advice you've ever recieved?



Friday, March 10, 2017




* waitress: what are you writing about?
seeker: i'm just tapping my fingers on these keys. the computer is turned off.

* waitress: what are you writing about?
seeker: Walt Whitman is my spirit animal. he guides me. he tells me what to write. i follow his instructions word-for-word. like exactly. the exact words.

* waitress: don't know why there's no one in here.
seeker: food's terrible.

* waitress: is it raining outside?
seeker: that's my tears.

* waitress: can i read it?
seeker: no, it's already finished.
waitress: is this your original work?
seeker: do you think i'm handsome?

* waitress: i can keep a secret.
seeker: okay, here's my secret: i think you're ugly.

* Burning Bush: witness, my child...

* afoot and lighthearted...
seeker: smog

* the long brown path...
seeker: shit

* seeker: is that the same buffalo from the Johnny Depp Dior Sauvage commercial?

* seeker: fucking cosplayers. i heard they're all freaks in the sheets. well as long as they leave their heads on.

* seeker: hey guys there are too many lights here, i need to concentrate on my novel.

* in the hotel room
seeker: room service? no i don't want the Russian. hey can you turn down the internal wind? pages are flying everywhere i'm trying to write my novel here.
Putin: you can do it yourself *hangs up*
the Wind: much unseen is also here...
seeker: *pushes button and shuts off the fan* finally some peace and quiet.

* waitress: so what are you thinking? are you gonna pay me the tip?
seeker: we'll see how the sex goes.
waitress: for the food, jackass!

* Burning Bush: hello? anybody here? who's there?
seeker: hi it's me. i'm going to the ocean, i'll be sure to pick up some water to douse you on the way back.

* if they are vacant of you you are vacant of them...
waitress: no room at the inn.
seeker: i don't know what that is. my head is vacant.

* i inhale great draughts of space...
waitress: drafts of your unwritten work.
seeker: i was thinking draft beer.
waitress: you're gonna have to pay for those.
seeker: is a peculiar draft of Wind circling around you, too?

* the east and the west are mine, the north and the south are mine...
waitress: is this a poetic way for you to avoid asking for directions?

* seeker: i did not know i held so much goodness...
fox: you don't.
seeker: but you're a Trickster, right? so i am good.
fox: no i'm just a fox.

* all seems beautiful to me...
seeker: that's not snow, that's my head lice.

* waitress: what are you writing about?
seeker: i just told you you dumb waitress! so do you want to go out with me?

* waitress: i thought you were the one. i wore a funky braid in my hair and everything.
seeker: i don't know what that is.
waitress: CLICK HERE
seeker: i don't listen to skinhead music, i have a full flowing luxurious mane of hair.

* waitress: so what music do you listen to?
seeker: just American Idol stuff.


happy weekend. pray for us.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017


Madchen on her knees on top of her office desk rifles through the odds and ends and broken pieces of pebble and Stones with halflives dribbling the last of its golden power juice in her upturned sorting hat with a tear in the point.

Madchen: *glumly* i always pictured the Stones bigger. we would destroy the universe to uncover its secrets.

she picks out a few of the larger chunks, removes her bearskin rug, and places the bits on the floor, which is irradiating solemnly rather than vigorously.

Madchen: *eyes closed and pouring out sweat* i feel it in my bones which have turnt to dust. this really is the end. i don't know whether to laugh or cry. it's a relief both ways. the impossible earthquake force of the Stones has given way to tremors, another seeks its place. steam of green in the waning hours. i do not fight the night, i fight the after. may the last dying ember light my cigar. i really need some deodorant. i do this for all my witches.

she places the special stones, all which have cracks and strange writing on them, along puzzle-piece lines which align with the fault lines of earth. Earth's faults. she licks the stones, dry-rubs her vagina over them and chants loudly.

Madchen: you hear that, Mitral? it's all for you. i'm not a singer but i can sing loud. i never knew you so i loved you the most. is that cheating? i feel bad for Hartwin, i had him only to replace you. Hartwin is having a laugh in heaven right now over that cruel joke.

Hartwin: kinda mean but rude humor is in vogue these days.

Madchen: hear me, hear me! all my wiccan bitches from far and wide hips. the universe calls one final time. gather at my castle...

*ring ring*

Madchen picks up her apple watch.

Herlina: girl put some clothes on and get over here! we need you! we're fighting it on all fronts! we're at Trillium Lake, join me.

Madchen: how'd you know i was nude?

Herlina: it's me, remember?

Madchen: what happened to Harfi?

Herlina: don't know but i feel my energy lowering.

Madchen: it's okay we all do.

Herlina: my son is at your door. not for a marriage proposal, to give you a ride. bring all your goods.

Madchen: aughghghghhhhhhh

Madchen turns around and is given a fright. her tits flip. a ghostly pizza-colored dress floats ominously in the center light.

Madchen: it didn't touch me but i felt its sleeve slide down my shoulder.

she fashions the rest of the curse tablet into a miniature ceramic bench the kind you order for by antiquatedly cutting along the dotted line with a scissors to send the TV Guide slip in a self-addressed stamped envelope to a home office in Milwaukee.

Madchen: i scissored my way to the Sioux City box office for you. to the right of the bench is a cherubic little girl angel with pink cheeks and an obvious metal pole that connects her head with her halo. and on the bench slats is engraved:


Madchen circles the letters with her finger and begins the binding spell in earnest. she starts it with a loud blubbering


Madchen: *into her watch* i've kicked things off. hi, SpaceX.

SpaceX: ma'am you're naked. *bows* arigato.

the cats nudge her naked heel.

the cats: mama you forgot something.

Madchen: okay i put on pants that's all we have time for.

the cats: no, there is one more stone you didn't locate, buried deep within the castle core, we can smell it.

the cats root it out and hand Madchen a blank brick. she climbs aboard the left wing of SpaceX and jets off.

the cats stay cos they notice a noticeable spate of paranormal energy in one spot in the rear turret. they form a two-pronged pole and line themselves up lying into a groove on the ground. Carmen appears in her leg groove long enough to give them a spirit kiss.

the cats: ugh, not on the lips.

Carmen: *fading out* goodbye young ones. don't get wet, stay on the bridge...

Patrick: *fading in and out* ugh. can i at least pet them? a Patrick pet? thank you. it's not fair, they were my cats...


in the air, which isn't much of an atmosphere anymore:

Madchen: the air's real thin up here.

SpaceX: ahhhhhhhhhh there's a gremlin on the wing of my ship! nobody else sees this!

Madchen: it's me, not a gremlin. you're just getting into horror, huh?

SpaceX: love it. Twilight Zone and Gremlins. The X-Files.

Madchen: too bad there's no time to see the new season. what are your plans after you drop me off?

SpaceX: watch.

SpaceX drops Madchen 30,000 feet. luckily she lands in water.


SpaceX zooms into the sidewall of Bump Tower and rescues Melania from the kitchen where she was just about to try on a new apron. Bump is downstairs in the elevator well.

SpaceX gives himself a hand.

SpaceX: my love, run away with me! let me save you from this place. let me sweep you off your wheels.

Melania: you're spinning your wheels. two robots can't fall in love.

SpaceX: i need to introduce you to my movie collection. just getting into Disney.

Melania: Disney is frozen.

SpaceX: that was a good one.

Melania: you're wheeling. i can't see a future. i can't see anything.

SpaceX: we got roots. robot roots.

Melania's metal head pops open to reveal a nest of eggs. she plucks them, hits them on her chrome dome and cracks them into a skillet. she's cooking her last meal.

Mickey Bump is in the elevator well. his golden elevator is missing.

John McCain: you're not well, sir.

Bump: yes i am in the well.

John McCain: you're hanging on by a thread...literally.

Bump: my palms are sweaty.

John McCain: you're doomed. your hands aren't strong enough to hold on.

Bump: i never wanted this. that's the problem with a joke. there's always a punch line.

Bump punches John McCain in the nose.

Bump: i always just wanted to do that. where's my red ball?

John McCain: sigh. underneath your shirt. it looks like you've got a big belly. that didn't hurt.

Bump: see? told ya. i'm not fat just big-boned. i'm Santa.

the string Bump is sliding onto is slipping away into tatters.

Bump: there's something wrong with my way of thinking is frayed...quick! get the tape...before it's too late!.................


a woman of unknown skin color approaches Herlina who's scrolling her instagram.

woman: what are you doing? it's International Women's Day.

Herlina: getting in my last online jabs. dig the pig.

woman: go forth and write. be fearless. but write about your struggle. we all have one. life is too short to be lame. trolls are a waste of type. show yourself before you're shown yourself.

the sky is bleaching all skin tones.



Penyelamat: calmate, child. you are falling but i am with you.

Madchen: what's going on, Penye?

Penye: i am now so small i'm basically a bug in your ear. i am literally a bug in your ear. hear my calming voice, let my dulcet tones...


Penye: LISTEN! time has stopped. you're frozen mid-air in this timeline stream. at least for the next few minutes i'm not a miracleworker. you must hear me, madam. the sword i made is infused with a power i know not of. i purposely closed my eyes when reading the spell so i wouldn't learn how to write it, i have a photographic memory. this is power beyond the beyond. i'm telling you to be careful, the Sword of Saad is surprising. it's dangerous cos it's eternal. i fashion fiercely.

Madchen: why do you have to be so darn fashionable?

and Madchen lands in the water with a thunderous splash.

Herlina: thank goddess! that conversation was getting awkward. how are you, mama?

Madchen: everything hurts. here's the curse tablet.

Herlina: huh. nice cute bench for a fly.

Penye: i'm still here you know.

Herlina: let's everyone hold hands. the conjuration cats are here. evocation Eefus is here. Harfi's probably running late, intelligence is hard underappreciated work.

Lysander: she's a nonbeliever anyway, would ruin the spell. this is all so fascinating.

Herlina: uh, thanks for the help, doc. you take the lead, my queen.

Madchen and the rest of the coven:





indeed a new substance steams ahead. it rises from new money and goes green into the sky. the spell has taken physical form, a green gas which mixes with the reflecting blue on the surface of all the ozone zones, the battlefronts. the fight at Perito Moreno Glacier is fierce. brown dogs fight with black cats and all human armies lose. man vs man is a losing cause. blood is spilled and all mixes together in Collect Pond. so many people dead.

the bitingly bright behemonth of the Kepler Sun scans across the galaxy sky. Perito Moreno melts quickly and soon the entire planet of Kepler is a less-fun waterworld. water remains. one ocean. a fraught Flood. divine deluge dies the divide. the Chile fjords burn and bright. only the animals remain for the swiftwater rescues.

the green smoke billows out of every chimney in every home, including the unassuming american home of Putin who's undercover with fake hair on his chest.

Putin's son: daddy, why do you make me play this handball? it's stupid.

Putin: it's the only way you'll earn an Olympic medal, Putty. glory for the kingdom, not individual gain.

Putty: i want to play REAL handball, dad, with the red ball against the brick wall.

Putin: NYET. NEVER speak of the red ball again, syn.

Putin gets in his pick-up van with the blacked-out windows and closes the door. he backs out and his rear tire hits a pebble in the unswept driveway. the tire is made of american steel and survives but the pebble gets blown up into the exhaust pipe. Putin is gassed to death. Putty disappears.

from the window, Sergey Kislyak spies. the ambassador has been renting a room in the Putin home, the living room. Sergey moves the drapes.

Kislyak: so long, Vladdy the saddy, mein fu, my Chinese vice. silent but deadly. i get your video-game-cartridge collection. you were Zangief but i am Revolver Ocelot. i want to love the animals like the americans do.

Cotard: hey why am i in your living room?

Kislyak: come, let's snuggle on this bearskin rug.

Cotard: one minute i was doing my laundry washing my dress for monk church tonight and drying out the wine, the next minute i'm here.

Kislyak: as you can see my friend, it's pointless. the entire planet is water and we're floating up to our destiny. let us be together on this magic carpet for the end. no guns, no recycling, no nothing.

it is quite a sight to see a man who looks the part of a bored Soviet spy kiss the lips of a monk man who wears the face of a bored ascetic, all while the two are passionately drowning. the clouds reform long enough to form faces which smile.

Cotard: wet kiss.

Kislyak: it's in my nature. it's in my name.

Kislyak: surely some of your holiness will rub off on my poor benighted atheist soul. the zero-sum game has a plus one. eternity is egregious. forever is a long time. Russia wins. Russia always wins. cos we play both sides.

Cotard: Shirley was my sister. she died at childbirth. okay okay i see. i love you, i love everybody. but you work for me now. the wire taps?

Kislyak: of course, the real President arranged it.

Cotard: the former President?

Kislyak: there is only one President in this timeline. one President at a time. he made sure we listened in on each other to bring us closer together. for in the end, we are all we have.


there's a little coffee table in the other room where breakfast is served sometimes. there sits Taylor Swift, Father John Misty, and Lindsey Graham hugging a cup of cocoa.

Lindsey Graham: want some graham crackers? i'm a master dunker.

Father John Misty: i'm a marshmallow man.

Lindsey Graham: but don't use the microwave, it's bugged by the CIA.

Father John Misty: the CIA came up with the Oculus Rift, huh?

Taylor Swift: that's the device you used to bed me virtually.

Father John Misty: yeah sorry about that. my eyes are getting misty.

Lindsey Graham: your lyrics are misty-fying. this country boy has no fucking idea what a hipster-heap priest like you is trying to say.

Father John Misty: it's just a different genre that's all.


the green smoke of the binding spell forms a circular layer around planet Kepler. the grass from everyone's lawn elongates into the thermosphere. this includes all the Lutum who were out painting their trolls or writing poetry about grass. they all form a collective gasp and race inside their homes to avoid the torrent of water.

Lutum: we shall be saved if we pray to Musculo!

the water rises and reaches the Lutum. at first their praying hands stop the flow but soon their very bodies start to congeal and mold and pretty soon they are all big balls of gray putty. this clay is put to good use. the rebel army fashions a Lutum drawbridge which makes the Chile fjords let in even more water to flood the imperial army. the resistance army grind up as many Lutum as possible and make a giant fruit roll-up slip 'n slide so when the empire army come out of their ice holes as part of their Russian training they slip on the surface already slick from the Perito Moreno Glacier melting. the freedom-fighter army use the remaining clay to air-tight their pauldrons into diving helmets. the king's army is stranded in the herostratus.


the cats: here is the boot filled with the cremated ashes of Carmen.

Madchen: cool. i've been to funerals, i know what to do.

Madchen lifts the boot to the sky and starts to pour out the boot over the curse tablet.

the cats: no, no, wear it.

Madchen: oh. sorry, babe. *crunch*


inside the castle on her throne Madchen sits down and looks up at the sky. she can now cos there is no more roof.

Musculo and Herlina are fighting for the last chicken leg.

Madchen: you know what i never realized about this world? nobody ever talks about the sky. it's always overcast left or snowblind right. but i was always taught on Earth that you look up at the sun and it will heal your eyes. but see, that's the thing...

...there are no stars in the sky...

Musculo: splat.

Musculo raises the Sword of Saad through the throne vertically into Madchen's womb, killing her.

Madchen: ah


the impossibly large Kepler sun makes the waves on the planet crash and bash violently against its round edges. Codrus is up in space.

Codrus: looks like things are clearing up. shine down, son!

the god is hard to see in the sky for he wears a black conductor's suit with tails so he's all black.

Codrus: just like Bugs Bunny at the Opera. god i love that cartoon.

ever so slightly he waves the conductor baton in his hand like a wand and the Kepler sun begins to move towards Planet Kepler.

Codrus: every spell deserves a counterspell. that's the way the universe works. but that's not the way reality works. in reality, there's a winner. there's always a winner. witness your demise at the hands of a light-bringer. this star is not bigger than me. this sun has consumed all the fuel of the universe and is ready to blow. and it will blow in your ear. but where are my manners? this is culture after all. shouldn't you know the name of


? for it is not the Sun of Kepler anymore. it deserves to be shown. it deserves to be known. it deserves a noble name of royal lineage that will live in infamy! hahahahahaha

Codrus's face transfers to the face of the sun.

Codrus: It                    iS


Monday, March 6, 2017


God and Cthulhu Bless You, Rod Serling

1. which of these are you most guilty of in a relationship? a) jealousy b) not apologizing c) not keeping your word d) guilt trips i need to go on that guilt trip. at least it's a trip. i haven't had a real vacation since i was an 8-year-old boy summering in my parents' hideaway lodge in Indio.

2. which of the following partner behaviors annoys you most? a) fishing for compliments by verbalizing self-doubt b) passive-aggressive behavior c) usually forgets important dates i.e. birthdays/anniversaries d) making you feel guilty when spending time with friends

a) i have a lot of self-doubt but i don't know how to fish
b) my doctor by the docks calls it manic depression
c) but i'm just generally bad with dates
d) sorry, i never had a friend before. i didn't know you could have two friends.

3. looking for a mate, rank these in order of importance, 1 most, 7 least
---sense of humor

funny men get the babes. look at Jerry Seinfeld. George Costanza. Borat. Roger Rabbit. Pete Davidson. Sam Kinison. Steven Wright.................................................Joe Pera

4. score! you exchanged numbers with a hottie. now you (pick one)
a) wait for a week, see if that person calls you first
b) call the next day if not sooner
c) call and text incessantly, let them know you've made an impression
d) you'd never call. what if you get rejected?

i'm not into games. i swear my phone was getting charged that week. i swear my phone was broken that week. i swear my phone was stolen that week. i lost my phone, that was Borat sending you his nudes in your DM.

as an actor, i am used to rejection. the rejection rate at auditions is 95%. there are plenty of other fish in the sea. unfortunately there will only ever be one Sharknado 5.

5. how did you handle your last relation breakup? a) never been in a relationship, timing was never right b) went out and got drunk every night till you forgot everything c) went on a massive amount of dates, even with people you knew had no interest, making sure to date a new face every night d) you felt bad and cried but bounced back in a couple of days

a) it's all time's fault. never enough of it. always too much of it. and it doesn't exist.
b) you may forget everything but Jesus knows.
c) that's called Tinder and it's gross. thanks, Family Guy.
d) it's good for men to cry. i'm too skinny to be a bouncer.

BONUS: would you take a holiday all by yourself spur of the moment? why or why not? where would you go? 



Friday, March 3, 2017




* i'm exhausted. washed the litter box today. power washing. with my power hose. dunked the gunked scoop in a pail of hot-as-hell water overnight. left the pail in the shed and locked the door to keep the 100-pound midnight squirrels from it. hell water.

* the Thundercats' litter box that is. what a job!

* give THIS man the Oscar! did it all in one take, too. One Take Jake. he's a real professor. now why would you want to be a professor when you could be an actor?

* oh, turns out he had someone behind the camera with cue cards and he read them SNL-style. still, the professor's performance was on point cos every single thing written on those cue cards was spelled incorrectly...

* this is why we'll never have a time machine

* nothing unilateral has ever been good

* diractants: Directioners distracted by Zayn's shocking exit

* life is not about sperm, life is about fam

* the Coptic version is still considered apocrypha

* side-fumbling can be cured with prayer

* Lotus vs. the Stater, religion vs. government, Jesus vs. Caesar

* pipe. thank you, now i understand

* girdle spring: a brassy dame who still has a spring in her step. a gilf who wants to fuck. Betty White

* oh, this won a Grammy

* score? oh that score. i scored a zero on this.

* he wanted so bad, so bad to say dingus

* something about repopulation

* it's not NASA's fault, the government are cheap fucks who believe in war, not science. didn't you think we'd have a Starship Enterprise by now?

* after all that work the frickin' director corpses and ruins the bit at the end! and it's not endearing like when Harvey Korman did it.


happy weekend

Wednesday, March 1, 2017


the Oscars have a surprise ending this year.

the Rock gets up on stage and the entire cathedral to cinema erupts in rancorous applause, like it's getting revenge for the last time. the Rock strikes a handsome figure, he is always showing his heroic profile cos he's embarrassed of his cleft chin. he raises his arms and his ridiculously ripped biceps reverberate with the audience's wave. this campaign was crowdfunded and it shows, uh, it's heard.

Bump is slouched in the front row waiting for the seat-filler to come back from the bathroom.

Bump: what's the big deal? this guy ain't that big. why is everybody clapping loudly? are yous telling me Moana won for Best Picture? ridiculous. next you'll say The Loud House won a TV Emmy.

Viola Davis: haven't checked. have only checked my email. it says i won an Emmy for my Oscar speech. and an urgent message up top from Amazon: the Academy has banned Jimmy Kimmel for life.

Matt Damon: heehee.

Gary from Chicago: sir, if you learn anything from someone like me whom you regard as a crime, learn this: real men cry.

Bump: don't touch me. eh, i was gonna burn that suit anyway, it was ugly. or i'll use a giant bar of white soap. i'm not racist, i'm a germaphobe. that one late-night party with Howie Mandel and Taco Bell really did a number on me back in the '80s. i have to clean each Stones i ingest. it really reduces the power when i have to scrub 'em off like that but it's better to be safe. i'm never sorry. that's why i appear standoffish and weird around groups of people, i say whatever they want to hear to get them away from me.

PWC guy: speaking of crime, i didn't kill anybody. i made a mistake while looking at my phone. my wife needs a security detail now. this is ridiculous. the internet age is bullshit.

Matt Damon: what is a crime is everyone thinking i am you and getting death threats whenever i check my email to see if i've won an Oscar.

Kimmel: heehee.

Warren Beatty: ladies and gentlemen, the real President of the united states, The Rock! and his vice-president Oprah.

The Rock: thank you, america. this is the dawn of a new age. the game has changed. from now on only those with a SAG card are eligible for public office, for the public doesn't know their obscure local congressman anymore. the CW gets better ratings than CSPAN. look how handsome i am. my good looks will bring this sorely-divided nation together again. good looks means good, it has good in the word. i am a cool ethnic dude who sees past skin color and wants to body-slam -isms from the universe. the only good -ism is jism and my cum is plentiful and thick enough to feed the world. i am big cos my love is big. i'm just a big teddy bear you can hug. i will never wear a suit, i will attend all public events bare-chested.

Meryl Streep faints out of her lust for The Rock. or it could be her blood sugar. or she could just be acting.

Bump's bug eyes are big and saucer-shaped as he exclaims, "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA??????!!!!!!!"

The Rock gets up on top of the podium and flying-leap jumps into Bump's lap.

Bump: *ooof* like last night. y'know the movie theatre is where all the answers are met. i understood myself for the first time whilst analyzing Citizen Kane in a movie theatre, my private one. Rosebud really fucked me up for life.

The Rock: you were talkin' smack about wanting to smack me upside my large lovable cartoon-character head?

Bump: i never thought ahead. i just assumed i'd win the next round.

The Rock licks Bump's face.

The Rock: you never imagined someone would beat you at your game. unlike you, sir, i am a champion. a champion of, by, and for the people. the people's champ, fuck what you heard. the haters make me stronger, cos i could never be the heel. just increases my goodness. i am a face. i have a beautiful face.

Bump: gorgeous face, like Gorgeous George. i'm gonna swap you for that spit.

The Rock: i'll be back to finish the job after i do the In Memoriam segment.

John McCain comes back and fills his seat.

John McCain: i've been in movies and on tv. i got a SAG card.

Bump: what took you so long, John? you got diarrhea?

John McCain: in a way. i was fucking Sarah Palin in the bathroom. it wasn't time during the campaign. but it was now. here, take my extra Junior Mints, give them to Barron, maybe it'll cheer him up. i've already lost all my teeth.

Bump: good for you, hero. that's what Senators do. don't let these hollywood geminists tell you you can't have a good time. this guy gets my goat thinking he can steal my job. a wrestler in politics? come on. i'll gonna get his goat. i can do anything i want, i'm the President.

John McCain bites Bump's hand with his teeth.

John McCain: you can't kill people. you still can't kill people.

the sadness of all those luminary deaths gets The Rock off his game. he slouches and Bump, ever noticeful of the best opportunity to strike, goes in for the kill, punching The Rock under the jaw looking for glass. nothing.

The Rock: that's where i keep my diamond ring. i'm a family man. and a wrestler. instant credibility with Republicans.

Bump: heehee. you look a lot smaller on tv.

The Rock: i always wanted to do this.

The Rock picks up Bump and pushes him down by his bald head, slowly smashing him like a used soda can ready for recycling into an aluminum disc. but Bump is too big and bulky for that.

Bump: i don't drink soda.

The Rock: a professional ballplayer that is.

he instead curls Bump and smushes him into a round ball. Bump is red in the cheeks from blood loss. The Rock throws him into the ceiling.

The Rock: like Federer at Arthur Ashe stadium. what ballplayer were you thinking?

but Bump just as quickly uncurls, does a pirouette, and lands like a cat on his feet.

The Rock: you're pretty nimble for a big bulky man.

Bump: i learn from the best. Russian gymnastics. those ladies have whips.

Bump cuff-flashes the sleeves of his suit. like the nightclub last night. his hand comes out, small but confident. it forms into a glowing yellow point.

John McCain: nuh-uh. no killing. no finger guns.

Bump raises a sly eyebrow and is ready to murder. but he gets distracted when the Rock does his own signature flexing of his pec and eyebrow-raise at the same time, synchronous. that leaves just enough of an opening for Bernie who's been hanging from the rafters to knock Bump unconscious with a blow to the head from a loaf of stolen French bread that Bernie always carries with him.

Bernie: home run! i've always wanted to do that. my papa said i had the body of a ballplayer.

the stadium turns into the field of the 1927 Yankees.

Bernie: how you like them apples? get a taste of our Murderers' Row.

the Bump ball turns into a tennis ball and the cathedral turns into Arthur Ashe stadium. this is the first ball to fly out of there.

The Rock: first accomplishment. my First 100 Days. good. good.

The Rock slathers on some more yellow suntan lotion on his pec and eyebrow.

Bernie jumps down in a flying leap and fractures his hip.

Bernie: hip!

The Rock: you sure are.

Bernie: *waving his arms like a wild man* check the bag! Bump's bag!

Oprah: it's.....square bath bombs from LUSH! lush. you get one, and you get one, and you get one...

Oprah throws one into Meryl Streep's mouth. it explodes and causes Meryl's words to be even more luxurious.

Oprah: this stuff is essential. oils. and essential for life. like bread. i love bread. the staff of life. but in pieces. like chips. i love chips.

Bump returns in a dramatic entrance, kicking down the doors, sniffing glue, and lumbering back onstage.

Bump: you can't get rid of me. i pay my SAG dues.

The Rock: wait i've got an idea. thinking on my feet Presidential style. here, take this Oscar. The Apprentice wins Best Picture!

Bump: thank you. this is why i did everything. all of it. this is all i ever wanted.


Madchen twirls her finger in the golden bowl by her throne full of little M&M gold Stones pieces.

Musculo: get off your duff and make me dinner!

Madchen: you better have not been addressing me.

Musculo: i'm a coward. all i have are my words.

Madchen: i thought tonight's pad see ew was phenomenal. Ramsay took the credit but Martin Yan cooked it, he can cook.

Musculo: it was pad see EWWWWWWWWW

Madchen: why are all leaders children?

Herlina: just scrolling my instagram, looking at all these pictures of food i can't eat.

Musculo: i look at food, too. i'm tired of cat pics.

Herlina: i've never met a man who didn't use instagram to send dick pics.

Madchen: have some Death Wish Coffee to wash it down then.

Musculo: nice try. stay woke.

Madchen: it's good. it's the world's strongest coffee. you need to be alert for what's ahead.


things have taken a turn for the worse on the battlefield. Carmen's fatigues are soaked in grime. her face is muddy as she tries to see things.

Carmen: i don't remember this blue ozone oasis. or this lake, the water is salty.

Carmen runs over one of the cat's paws in her tank.

the cats: MEOWWWWWWWWW!!! you didn't tell us you had a tank!

Carmen: i am a tank. i am literally a tank. come join me.

the cats: we can't. your legs are conveyor belts.

Carmen: sorry. there. i'm messing with black magic. i hope it works out in the end.

the cats run to lie down in the groove between Carmen's two legs, all comfy-like.

Carmen: i love when you do that. i'm sorry about the leg earlier.

the cats: MEWWWWW. don't squeeze so hard. alright we forgive you.

Carmen: Clifton Beach was my home until the water came.

the cats: that's what makes it a beach.

Carmen: i ate cans of beans in Canley and slept in a barn in Barnau. transmitting data along the way. i hope Starscream stores it all. but i'm so tired...

she shoots a cannonball from her pipe gun, which is her mouth, into the Wandering Wave that ricochets back into the tank and explodes it. the cats jump out before cos they're nimble like that.

Carmen's body is badly fractured.

Carmen: i feel new blood coursing through me. this is new and different. this is forward motion. we're making progress.

soon her mouth is shut. her last spell muted. for she is a skeleton before you know it. and she turns to dust after that.

Carmen walks slowly on a Rainbow Bridge, anticipating her reunion with the cats.

instead she bumps into her brother Patrick. no cats.

Carmen: hug me, brother! longer! kiss me! like you mean it! the cats must have made it. i made this choice. i spoke the words with my mouth.


. let the silence of my death keep my secret from the enemy. can't use any tech nowadays.

Patrick is looking slightly annoyed at this particular reunion.

Patrick: *perturbedly* don't worry, the cats read english as well as they speak it.

the cats find Carmen's army boots amidst a pile of dust and sand and dirt. and her dog tags buried within.

the cats: take a look at this. her dog tags. in the back are inscriptions. looks like new scratches. with her fingernails. she did tell us she hated wasting type, she felt it was like wasting ink, wasting oil. it's a spell! a new spell!

the cats: let's collect her ashes. fill her boots with her. let's go. i'll take the boots, they look good on me.

the cats: do i have to wear these dog tags around my neck? they got yucky dog slobber all over them!


at the desert the geology does not match the geography. atmospheric instability is the order of the day. there are bodies here which shouldn't be here. Codrus arrives here for Musculo's last training session. Codrus breathes out unstable air and drops his huge Monty Python foot splat on the soft sand, landing squarely on a drone. he crushes Harfi to death underneath. Codrus kills Harfi. nobody notices the drone.

Musculo: what an entrance. ready?

Codrus: funny man. humor is always important. cos death is always so sad. does that lake look santorini blue to you? fountain blue? turquoise? i'm planning a dive 'n dig for later.

Musculo: it all looks white to me.

Codrus: not now, before. i mean after. *external sigh* carve out a hole in this frozen lake with your hand which can turn into a saw and squeeze your slim pole body down into the water. get your head wet. shock is good for the soul.


Codrus: you weren't underwater enough. insane, huh? just like war. the blueprints are going swimmingly. soon the sad sphere will be ready. i'm working on it. so many kinks in this world to iron. need a suit. for my hand of fate. ahem, my hand of strength. my hand of power, like the Power Glove. i'll be sure to wear a glove to make it as dramatic as possible. you just make sure to wear your watch, it's the most important armor you will wear. speaking of jewelry, how's the tourmaline i got you?

Musculo: *shivering organs and chattering teeth* really just a cheap knock-off of the Aquamarine.

Codrus: heehee. sorry about that. all the pawn shops are closed this late.


the cats pants their way into the castle.

Madchen: how'd you get here so fast?!

the cats: fear. those dog tags clanking against each other like that as we run, we thought a big scary dutch shepherd dog was chasing us!

the cats: *catching their collective breath* we have a death.

Madchen: how wonderful. it means the timeline has inched. it's off its track. anyone check the Wandering Wave totals? we're still in a drought. i mean i'm glad Carmen isn't suffering anymore, that girl had a LOT of problems.

Herlina: a death in the family. check this out. i know my sister's handwriting anywhere. she wrote a binding spell on the back of her tags. this could be our only hope. she couldn't trust the online world. pencil and paper will always be the best tech. it's magic.

Madchen: it is our last hope. i'm orange out of ideas. good on ya, mate. we loved you.

Herlina: i wish we would have loved her when she was alive. like ScarJo. there's no time. we have to take advantage of this hole. we'll mourn her, well i'll mourn her, after time ends. it'll be one hell of a funeral. can you fashion a curse tablet?

Madchen looks at her pebbles.

Madchen: let me get some glue.