Friday, June 29, 2018



* WARNING: Dole is one of those creations in art and literature and space you will never forget once you make contact with him. forget soon. and you thought the Dancing Baby from Ally McBeal was Lynchian. Dole is an absolutely original manbeast of a baby who is his own thing and will never be duplicated in nature again. honor him the short time he may have on earth or on adult swim, listen to every thought he says, he is wise beyond his years. or perhaps he is wise just at his years. the fact that he is performed by an artist with the last name of Kush is beyond perfect. really listen to Dole's words by listening to Dole speak. Dole has a voice which haunted the dinosaurs out of existence. you will never hear a voice like Dole's ever again, it's like if Jessica Rabbit's breathy voice and Soundwave from Tranformers had a baby that was born one day too early. i haven't felt this passionate and jazzed about the debut of a fully-formed sui generis character since Helga Pataki.

* not the Philip Jose Farmer series. Philip Jose Farmer doesn't sound like the name of a science-fiction author, he sounds like a Cuban MLB baseball player. Sammy Sosa is looking better, i pray for him.

* please make this a show and not a pilot.........................oh i see from the pics above it might be! the world needs more Dole. the world needs Dole to be the Dole Pineapple spokesbaby. not that stupid baby-mouth who sold you stocks and bonds. in the shorts there's one with Dole contemplating the vastness of the universe and going, "shit".

* thank you, interstitial ad, i'm not gonna try opioids. i don't want to smash my fingers with a hammer. i do love Dr. Drew, though.

* Off the Air melty keotbard opening

* Legos would be funner if they could be eaten like square marshmallows

* i guarantee they didn't pick out that pink color for their house, this proves they've never been outside.

* the symbolism here is superstrong. it's like Muppet Babies for adults. Jim Henson would have loved this, deep down he always wanted to do an HBO special with his puppets.

* you see how Dole calms you with that Hannibal Lecter assurance? but there IS enough time in the day to mate with a girlfriend, if the gazelles can find time all strung-out on speed, you surely can find someone hiding in the tall grass. at least always keep hydrated. the way a gazelle would. at the Dasani watering hole at the Beginning of the World.

* the air from the computer fan is the only air on his face Day has ever experienced

* 25? it's gotta be more like 45.

* Day: keep posting. if you don't post i don't exist. why is no one posting? is it summer? is it Christmas?

* Patricia Richardson: just remember, i was there when Tim Allen wasn't cool. potstickers?
Dole: i'm sniffing the potstickers not you.
Day: cool, mom, but why is the pot here?
mom: cos they stuck to the pot. son, why is this man in your room all the time? it's creepy. it would be less creepy if he were a woman. do you care for this dog? no you don't the dog is mine now. the worst day of your life was when i got you that computer.

* i knew girls in college who would do that, too. not eat anything two hours before bed. they would miss out on all the midnight pizza parties on the roof of the dorm, i always felt bad for them. i'd check in on them through their window from up on the roof hanging down like a bat or Batman while the rest of the bowling team was hoopin' and hollerin' and louding on, dancing with their bowling balls abve their heads. you could tell they were just fake-sleeping, they weren't tired. i gave them my pizza the next morning for breakfast. the pain of good digestion.

* SpongeBob freaky human finger. poor dog. Andy Samberg was Andy Samberg before he turned into Filthy Frank.

* i'm not saying Dole is the Anti-Exorcist, but he can make a talking bird only sing again.

* i would be for a prop banning all cell phones in parks and i hate politics.

* Day: slow as molasses much? the wireless, not my jogging.

* real-world couple: look at yourself in the mirror, boy. you're a freak of nature. don't get mad over your wireless plan, breathe in the non-pot grass. look at us, we're proof love has no color. humans were never meant to get agitated over robots.

* Dole: i can fit inside your ass i mean June birthdays are a miracle, you wait one half of the year for your birthday and the other half year for Christmas.
woman: that is so enlightening. are you an elf?

* Day: i'm angry. i'm so angry all the time. i don't understand my mom got me this new Samsung and i'm still angry.

* Day: roll down the grassy knoll. let me make you a youtube star.
Dole: okay but i can't rip these brown pants they don't make 'em in my size with this specific material anymore.

* Day: sorry i just have never been popular before, i don't know what to do with my hand. i'm gonna faint. am i dead? the last time i checked my hourglass it was full at the bottom.
Dole: it's okay, puppy, my mom was like yours.

* dad: girls, get off that position!
Dole: girls, amirite? you need to get yourself a June birthday, mister.
dad: yeah because my birthday is Christmas i end up getting no presents.
Dole: but you're Jesus so who cares?

* Dole: listen to the sound of my voice. hypnotized much?
tech: horrified more. humans shouldn't be at the beck and call of tech. X rays are unreliable.
Dole: yeah we have an unreliable narrator, too.
tech: bathroom's not here. don't pee in the x-ray tube.
Dole: yes, sir Nazi. gonna try on this dirty stethoscope, it's okay, i'm a stage manager. listen to the cadence of my awkward-pause Bertolt Brechtian voice. it's so soothing and coaxing.

* Dole: *listening* knew it, i have a soul but no heart. it's not annoying when i flick the lights on and off cos i'm a baby. baby vampire. swinging in the rain, swingin' in the dry heat...

* Day: you're that white woman with the black dude. you're a doctor? white women can't be doctors.
doctor: oh hello. thought i'd never see you again. do you have insurance?
Day: of course not, who has insurance?
doctor: let me know if you're feeling, like, you feel like you're going crazy. craziness.
Day: why is PSY here? that was, like, last decade, i don't know how to dance.
doctor: don't worry, it's not schizophrenia or anything, it's just anxiety.

* see, the Lego here is more useful, it's a disembodied floating minister.

* Tim Heidecker: we're gonna close the deal. nuff-said situation!, that's for an order of this show. sorry for spitting on the migrant like that i spit when i talk.

* Dole: i had to break my left knee to reach it up to the bench. the pain of being cool. and good digestion.
Tim: are you interested in more videos? as you can tell from my hair i'm a burnt-out rock star from the '70s. that's what humans do now, that's all humans do, make videos. i can make you a millionaire, you just need to follow these 7500 people on instagram.
Dole: Day is the ideas man. ideas boy. i'm just the monkey like Jerry Lewis.
Tim: you like non-red hats?

* Dole: sold. i like your butt. that's how i determine a person's sincerity. the butt is a person's true face.

* Tim: it's brilliant. connecting with people without actually connecting with people, contractually. try it out for a year then you can rip it up like you're LeBron James.
Day: i don't know who that is but he has a lot of followers. how many hours is it?
Tim: 300 a week. by comparison a construction worker works 600 hours a week. at night. underwater. to lay the cable that makes your internet possible.
Dole: that should have been the marketing campaign for Aquaman. you gotta get the bloggers on your side. nobody listens to me.
Day: this doesn't mean anything, right? this is just a piece of paper.
Dole: i can see myself in this mirror. i'm not squinting hard enough.

* mom, driving back home: i got a sweat treat for you kids when we get home!
Dole: pineapple?
mom: no. meet your stepfather!
Day: i got a real good feeling about this. things like this don't happen to people like us. this is too good to be true. the internet will still be around in 30 years, right? wait, oh NO! why is the sun a giant smiley emoji? am i still back at the hospital in a coma?
Dole: don't think such distressing things all the time. look out our window at those wild horses running in the fields.
Day: you're right, thanks. they are beautiful.
Dole: i spent all our money on them.

* take it from someone with no friends, honor your friends whoever and whomever and wherever they are. it's a blessing they're near you right now.

* y'know i think i'm gonna be a video-game person again. i was in the '80s but i still went to school, too. i got my chips salted-on-the-inside, my Zebra caramel corn, my chocolate-covered twinkies, and my Coke-brand water. that Detroit: Become Human looks cool. everything cool happens in Detroit. like RoboCop and stuff. artificial intelligence is the future......................just wish it would get here soon............


happy weekend, my babies. prediction: Switzerland will win the World Cup before Federer wins Wimbledon. again.

Wednesday, June 27, 2018


there's a knock at the door. of course.

And Change: what. i told you. do you ever sleep?

The Line: no i told YOU brotha nigga. i told you to be at that meeting! you should have seen me in all my glory. but you didn't. you know i don't care about the fellas, they're yes-men, don't tell them dat i mean don't let me find out you told them dat. i wanna hear you talk about it. i sat in the middle of that theatre and watched all the movies rolling on the big screen. we saw Holon's pathetic youtube response vid up there. inbetween his few limited-vocabulary ranty words---and make no mistake this boy was a rant---which was mostly him opening his small crooked mouth to spit in the air, he managed to stay online long enough for us to discover his real-world location. he lives with his disabled aunt.

And Change: yeah, that was me. i was at the meeting. in a way. i streamed it all from my basement. i melted that meeting, fool! you pay me to reconfigure the drones to reconnoiter them to serve our ends. i bury the drones in the halls of the place of reconnaissance for our renaissance. they provide me with all the details i need to relay to you. i know all the enemy's hideouts and planned points of future attack. i know where they live. you know where i live but I know where you live, ya feel me. i see all from my below room, all the blueprints, all the blue. i use those heat maps the World Cup uses to show how well Ronaldo is hitting his spots on the field and how not well Messi is.

The Line: basement, aye?

And Change: nothing. so what else did you accomplish today? what did you do in school today? i feel like a father to Son.

The Line: oh you di'n let me finish.

And Change: imma let you finish

The Line: well from our newfound underground funds from this latest successful hit we acquired the services of one very famous group of pranksters, the four kids from Disney's Walk the Prank. my, uh, niece loves that show. they bursted through Holon's door while he was speaking thinking we swatted his puny punk ass. he went into a rage, more of a rage, and started to talk crazy even for him. he goin' on about how he wants to strip naked in camera to really feel tribal in front of the whole world. don't he know only one man can pull off the nude suit? Holon flies out of his own window, he defenestrated himself in defeat, and it was the most hilarious thing ever, surely their best prank to date. you should see this show, they get into some dank shit and dark things for a kid's show. heavy. like flat earth and doxing toxic commenters and the emptiness of video games in the search for meaning, significance, and control. before the frizzy girl had a chance to say, "you're on a hidden-camera show" and "you were amazing", Holon has gone into hiding---again---but not before the girl shuffles through his papers on his Nazi-carved desk there and steals the location of this cell's master. you should have seen her mouth as she waded through all the spit of his on that desk. turns out it's a mistress. yeah, surprised me, too. Shakira. that wasn't a prank.

And Change: have you no qualms?

The Line: i told you, the show is impressively progressive, not dumbed down. kids can handle this. they have to in our world. oh yeah, and there was the McDonald's thing did you see dat? trended on twitter. i couldn't believe my beleaguered eyes when Bump shown up at the same McDonald's as me!

And Change: the one in Oakside?

The Line: no the one in Sun City. the protection gets laxer and laxer out of disinterest and his loudness. he boisterously struts up to the counter but i stand in front of him, leer over him, i'm taller like a tree than he is fat, and just stare at him silently for five minutes, blocked his order. WE in line. i stood there like a scarecrow just long enough for Rachel Maddow to catch another fish for his filet-o-fish---they started to bite again---come in through the back window, and replace his order with the rotten fish. it was magical. but you know what? when i was looking through him, i realized sumin'---this was not the man. he was not the one. he had a big head but he was not the head. i quickly lost interest in his purse mouth.

And Change: sign of the times. well on level i suppose this was a good incident for you. an outcome where you realized you can put down your weapon and affect change in more, uh, constructive ways.

The Line: oh lawd i haven't put down my weapon, jus' switched it. switched the game up. i'm always holding my gun in my hand, my big black wet rifle, my glistening cock. i'm bout two things: pussy n' power. and my own fleet of planes. yeah you're inspiring me, my video-game geek.

And Change: please don't equate me with any of your groups or theories. i've seen it, i've seen stable black men who marry also collect comic books and discuss imaginary comic battles online for some reason.

The Line: you've inspired all of us the group, my nigga nerd. i'm bout to take a more erudite approach. yeah, yeah. yeah. yeah. yeah yeah. like the head, right? use your head. so, well, i'm gonna divide the world up. you're either on my side or the wrong side. it's so brilliantly simple. you'll know us from the trail of our dead. you'll know all of us cos we'll be the ones wearing brown headbands.

And Change: shit, man, don't take the bait! you got that off Holon's next video from his aunt's house, he was wearing an orange headband.

The Line: gotta scram. my twitter's calling a'lackin'. i need to fuck a bitch, for real. catch you on the flip. next time we meet it be off the chain. i'm bringing all these back, our culture is coming to America. we're the real army of patriots, the one who will fight the first war that actually mattered.

on a plane in a place faraway. something transpires that is more consequential to the remaining history of the world and universe than anything that could ever be conceived out of the labs of clans:

Clara Daly tries to sit on her plane seat but despite the cushioning of the seat and her butt she's finding a hard time of it.

Clara: it was the phone in the back of my bluejeanspocket! i'm such a ditz!

but then something consequential happens which jolts the brave girl out of her usual summer doldrums of pretending to be dumb and cute. she hears Tim Cook the blind man next to her wail in pain.

Clara: what's wrong, good sir? your cries are etching on my heart. i know sign-language. i can read your hands. i'm only first-year tho...

Tim Cook: yet you have more love in your soul and ears than adults who will only have years. you're Jesus Christ! in the flesh! show me your Jesus hands! Jesus can be a girl, too.

Clara: touch your hands to my hands, let us clasp them together and be one bond in brotherhood. put down your melted coke and your wet casino motel napkin and bare computer laptop, this is about what we have lost in this cold world. feel the warmth of my knuckles, it's exciting and tingly and warm. this is real palm-reading. i know what you're saying, i can read your quiet lips, i can interpret your moans, they are the moans of abject loneliness. you don't want anything in particular, you want to be seen. look deeply and longingly into my eyes as i am on your eyes.

Tim Cook: i can't. my eyes aren't closed, i'm blind. are you Carson Daly?

Clara: no. Carson Daly is on this plane but no one cares. you called for me. it is destiny that we come together like this. you are not alone. you are not alone anymore. give me your email.

Tim Cook: i'm not good with computers, i'm better with humans. as you can see demonstrated in that Subaru ad i did. i'm the blind man in that ad.

Clara: oh yeah, Tim Cook! the other Tim Cook. you were fantastic in that spot, so heartwarming. so inspiring. i could feel the ocean in your eyes.

Tim Cook: it was on my face. President Bump sent a hurricane to fuck with this plane's trajectory cos he thought i was the Apple Tim Cook. luckily this plane didn't go down and crash cos Bump hates to read and is not known for his training or we'd all be doomed.

Clara: i heard just like you. The Bump Administration has gone too far this time! imagine. the nerve of that man to commandeer all the United States and European private airline industries' planes and refashion them into war jets for his immense army. fighting for anything but mutual understanding makes me sick to my stomach. this is one blonde for the truth!

there's a bump in the air. Doryce and Gladyce are on the plane.

Doryce: has the artichoke dip come? did we make it to Club Zanzibar yet?

Gladyce: fraid not, dear. wait are we going to the one in New Jersey or the one in Canada? this isn't the usual Joisey-bashing. i've never wanted to go to Canada more.

Doryce: whatever the one Caravan Tours takes us. whatever the illuminaughty one. whatever the one where i can finally realize my dream of being a strip girl.

Clara: i had no purpose before i met you. i texted endlessly. i was an airhead who liked licking Airheads and had a hula hoop in my hand. now my head is filled with vital information. now i'm staying off the candy for i need to share that information. i am still a bubbly teenager from Cali but i'm bubbly for a different reason. the bubbles are not from cool. and i give my hula hoop to you. put it around your waist.

Clara and Tim are joined at the hip forever in yellow. the other passengers aboard think it's a bomb.

Clara: i get you. i get lonely and sad at times, too, even at my young inexperienced age. cos we are living in this age. let's hold our hands together again and read each other with our fingers. no. no, not there! here, here, up, up, up here, my hands, not there! soon there won't be any more coal and silver left on earth for all the pins and patches. i am your stranger in the dark.

Tim: please, one more thing, it's all i ask of this life, humor an old man. speaking of your stomach. just tell me, are you hot?

at The Store, Pete Davidson is buying some doughnuts for his beloved.

Pete: DOOOOOOO-------NNUUUTTTTSSSS. eight donuts, a very infinity illuminati number.

Ariana Grande: thanks, babe, i'm stuffed. why are you buying lottery tickets? you already won. you won the contest. you won life.

Pete: just in case. i don't remember entering. this is why we really came here, to buy these. here, put on this brown headband.

Ariana: oh you got matching ones, cute! is this like the Harry Potter Star Wars costumes thing for insta? okay, honey. we robbing the store to excite our juices to amp up our sex life after the heist in the motel room later that night?

President Bump and Giuliani are held up in their secret location, a place no one can spot, their newest ice army base in Antarctica. Giuliani secures the locals as only he can. he waddles up to the stage where the big screen is. he rolls around with some pigs who are really pink-spraypainted penguins. the projection to the screen is on light rays so crystal-clear on the spidery snowy atmosphere.

The Penguin's huge beak is front and center on the screen.

The Penguin, squawking out echoically: TRUTH IS RELATIVE

Bump is in the center of the seats, he doesn't clap but instead claps weirdly above his head in unsyncopated meter and chants "whoppee, whoopee, whoopee!"

Bump: i better change that to "Rosie! Rosie! Rosie!" soon. i love movies. especially the old ones. the propaganda ones are so beautifully-done. i knew we had a propaganda film in us as a country and i was right. i got only the best people to do it. Robert De Niro of course plays the lead, he's a better boxer than even Jack Johnson. and those two cute biracial kids from Cloak & Dagger play the kids in love. speaking of the great lovers, we have Peter Strzok and Lisa Page playing themselves as only they can. FBI stands for Fucking Being In love. take a look at this scene, it's the final cut:

on screen, Peter Strzok takes off his derby and plops it on the tiny kitchen table. Lisa Page undoes her skirt and places it down like an apron over the table like a white cloth. Ren + Stimpy music plays in the background.

Lisa: tough day at work, honey? hold my nuts and here's your beer and tell me all about it.

Peter: we'll stop it.

Lisa faints on the table.

Lisa: no, dear! i'm nothing without you. we must continue this surreptitious relationship. i'll never have sex this hot again. you don't get this kind of sex within the bonds of marriage. we might as well go through with it...

Peter: but i'm about to have my marriage annulled. you should, too!

Lisa: no, man! it won't be as hot if you end it. call it the spy in me...

Bump undoes the knot of his tie. he's feeling warm. it's unusually hot in Antarctica. at first he thinks it's from the steam coming off this hot movie but he sees that it's from the river of trash by his feet, normally frozen over, there's so much trash laid at his feet between him and the stage that it's starting to melt itself into a messy acidic bubbly swill of swale penetrating through with sharp toxic glow sticks of green gelatinous gasses of wafts.

Bump: haha! i love romance. *putting on glasses* i like that the film is black-and-white, very French. i hope those two crazy kids make it, they deserve each other.

LeBron James and Draymond Green come in the theatre and sit down next to Bump on either side closing him in like a Roman bread. sitting down the human trees' heads still touch the blue ceiling.

Bump: oh hi guys.............................yeah i had to pardon Jack Johnson..................Jack Johnson is me, y'know?.....................okay well i'll just get up here and take a walk in the snow yous enjoy your evening.

Draymond Green: pass the popcorn, player.

LeBron: *munching* 5/4? that's stupid! that's so unfair. it should be harder, it should be like tennis, it's gotta be 6-4 or you go to the tiebreak.

Bump: agreed.

the two trees, not Bump, bump.

Draymond: we cool?

LeBron: yeah. you gotta give it up to your enemy when the prank is brilliant. respec is respec. that thing you did? using my own Arthur fist meme against me? by putting your three gold NBA championship rings on Arthur's fist on your T shirt in the parade? you a genius. i know i'm the ideas man but you a genius. i'm getting ideas. me and Kawhi in L.A. i'm gonna say hi to Kawhi by introducing myself as LABron James and cawing to try and make him laugh. staying very low to the floor. watch your back! next year we're the Superteam, we're the ones coming for you. we're gonna get you, sucka.

Draymond: coming for you is not the same as gunning for you.

LeBron: you know why i let you win in the quickest four games possible, right? i wanted to prepare for the World Cup, the real event everyone will be talking about this summer! look up there! i love Messi!

Messi is seen at the National Anthem holding his sinuses and crumbling his head into his two fingers.

Bump: now THAT's the compromise on the Anthem we need! tell Congress to act it's not my fault.

Messi: i have a splitting headache! ref, can i get a few Vanquishes before the pitch match?

ref in short shorts: fraid not. on the banned list with valerian. that we know of currently. what seems to be the trouble? you're under too much pressure? you have to do it all on your own? have you called up Ronaldo to commiserate?

Messi: yes but he's not a good teacher. he's quite selfish. he tried to teach me to penalty-kick but i couldn't understand what he was saying. you'd be surprised how different our languages are.

ref: why are you in such pain? forgot the words to your anthem?

Messi: no. okay, i tell you. i had Germany in my pool going all the way. i lost way more than tax money...

at the basement:

And Change: Mulatto Messiah here, fam. fam, tonight as you can tell from my low frustrated deflated voice this is gon be my rousing pep talk for y'all. i bring you an urgent message. and i am not an alien. this is the First Purge. but it's real. everyone else out there in youtubeland giving you life advice be playin', they're just tryna sell you Herbal stuff. and the longer insta videos which are just youtube on instagram. this is a REAL call to arms. something must be done urgently. the time is now! i mean, what's next? Bump's gonna bring back sumptuary laws? i'm skinny enough as it is!

this is about the child. i do everything everything i do i do it for Son. it's all for Son. what if Son was an abortion? do we want to live in a world where Son doesn't have the choice to be healthy? to have the choice to marry samely? this is for that girl on the plane who doesn't know where she's going.

why must things be so consequential? why can't we all be swingers? we shouldn't live in a world where choices are so consequential as to affect the direction of existence for 30 years. i mean that's more than elections! we shouldn't have lifetime anythings! no lifetime appointments, they reek of dictators and despots and pots calling kettle barbells and dandies with dry candies. a lifetime is too long. for anyone. eventually everybody breaks.

And Change rearranges the lyrics to his famous one song this night when he plays it, adding new lyrics appropriate for the occasion:

on this OCCASION we got an OCCASION
to celebrate, OCCASION won and now we're done
but this fight is only light, we must tooth and nail it
till we nail it
till we build a dentist's house/
The Left is right, but only if they fight
let's see the Left really be The Left
this time. for this time. let's see Charlie Brown and the detective work toward better electives...
only through social only through social
we need Flake to be a snowflake...

as he's dancing you can see in the background his three signs made with brown paper and brown sticks, already ready-made: DISSOLVE in black paint three institutions: ICE, NRA, and SC

And Change: shhhhh, gotta go, fam, i've begun watching Sportscenter. i only like the one with the guy with glasses. oh, those are for tomorrow. see you there at the meeting. i won't dissolve the last bit of tape at the end like i normally do. for these aren't normal times. you know where it is.

he takes off his brown bald cap and places it on his desk. he looks next to the skull at the brown headband laid out in a straight line but doesn't move his fingers to touch it.

And Change: i know, fam, i know it's scary. it's scary cos you've never had to fight before in your life, really fight. me neither. i'm an indoor cat. i'm not an outdoor person. but this is differenter than anything that has come before. there are certain times. i mean he's seriously gonna choose a judge based on that judge's love of taxi medallions. life is not a game for people like you and me, that's our normal he's messing with. that's why we play chess in the park. and so for the first time in my life i will fight, i will fight alongside you. i will play hardball with fire and balls. i will join you on your righteous quest. to save the princess.

he takes off his brown bald cap and dons on a pink pussy hat.

And Change: and so for the first time in my life.................i will vote.

Monday, June 25, 2018


1. is your sex life more fantasy or reality? it's like having a Tom Cruise fantasy. but it's a real actual Tom Cruise fantasy, the film Legend.

it's like Mr. Neighbor always says in his neighborhood. or Father Ted Crilly always says in his sermons................wait what DO they say? do they even give a toss? or is it just a job to them? the way the special ended last night was redemptive and feel-good until they yanked the rug from under me when i was at my most vulnerable. adult swim, you can be Joe Pera, too. it was actually quite touching. Mr. Neighbor comes out of his delusional stupor after seven years and says his first words. but they do a St. Elsewhere---btw only St. Elsewhere can do a St. Elsewhere cos that only works the first time, once---and it turns out the psychiatric doctor in the white lab coat was the patient. i suppose doctors are people, too, and deserve their own redemption arc. but Mr. Neighbor comes off as a cruel puppetmaster smoking that cig there. it made me night-terrified, which led to the incident.

2. if you could hook up with a past lover (with no repercussions or regrets), who would it be and why? (no need to use real names just briefly describe the person as to their relationship to you). Repercussion Nor Regret, that sounds like a Pink Floyd joint. well she was the blonde that got away over at the Berkeley Drama Dept. i've agonized over her ever since i decided to blog to assuage the pain. if she had been between boyfriends that fateful semester, you would never have known me. at least not here. countless times around in my head, which my lab-coat says is unhealthy. read all about it on my instagram, the story with the "Pirate Booty" title and the strategically-placed one-of-its-kind-all-online rare photo.

3. you can only indulge in one of the following sex acts for the rest of your life, which would you choose to enjoy? a) oral sex, giving only b) 69 c) oral sex, receiving only d) mutual masturbation

look at that 69. look at the harmonious contours of that symbol. 69 is the universal symbol of International Denuclearization

4. with each lover do you pay attention to what they want or do you have a repertoire that you stick to when having sex? as a failed actor i wince when i see repertoire in print. if only i had joined a repertoire and gone on circus adventures at the space zoo. they can do whatever they want to me as long as i can cum down their throat that's my only know now that i read this what i just wrote in black-and-white type i can see how aggressive, arrogant, and demanding that was. y'know what, just do whatever, i don't care anymore. my mother taught me never to be the haughty hottie.

5. do you initiate sex for healthy benefits eg to sleep better or relieve pain? earlier this morning something happened to me that can never be taken back. btw i have three separate blood bites in my beard it's a good thing i didn't shave. bleeding in three places like the illuminati dog. i now have a permanent scar below my right eye i wear forever like a sad marked pirate. i am blessed to still be able to see. no eyepatch. so yes, masturbation! masturbation is healthy, that's what i've always been trying to convince myself of. see? it's true. i just want to go to sleep all day and hopefully my pain will subside and i'll realize out of my good eye that it was all a nightmare i've been living all this time...

bonus: do you understand the clitoris? only inasmuch as those two dudes from Y Tu Mama Tambien. i want to be hombres so bad. i consider that film the greatest road movie ever. it's not the greatest Mexican road movie ever it's the greatest Mexican movie ever because it paved the way for me to check out the then-painfully-and-unjustly-obscure Reygadas by the side of the road. he was hitching a ride to the sea. this has nothing to do with Harleys. i always think it's Salma Hayek as the woman but it's Maribel Verdu. i know it's not Sofia Vergara, can't be. Maribel is a WOman. there are women and then there are women of the earth and experience, of the red Aztec sand in their bosom and suffering embedded like glass in their feet between their toes. who don't need to wear girly toerings to show off. she teaches us boys big on bravado as our machismo melts away dripping off community-pool diving boards that the correct method is not to plunge our dicks directly into the center there and that's it. we are to work the edges, massage the margins, tongue the tender bits, spit the seasoned servant of notes, deliverer of evil. to lick around the flower of a woman like folding the petals of a large rose into the envelope edges of a love letter. it's not about sex at all, it's about sapience.

blessings, my babies, always count your countless blessings


Friday, June 22, 2018




* i'm rooting for Bull: CLICK HERE

* the mystery of Staci Keanan, everyone's first crush and television crush, boy or girl. she should be on Big Bang now. i mean you just don't give up acting, fame, and glory for law. stagemom must have intervened and drawn up an ironclad legally-binding contract.

* Greg Evigan, i hear he's a country singer now...

* Jerry O'Connell knows where River is. he's dancing on the river

* in the '80s, you could only see movie trailers on the backs of VHS rental tapes.

* don't worry about those FBI warnings, Comey will take care of them for you

* the end of this dreambow is a nightmare. a recurring nightmare of sorts. when did we stop calling hunks dreamboats?

* Jerry is playing the cool Mr. Rogers. in a surpsie twist, the ethnic kid is also the bully.

* Jerry: it's not my fault, this computer is old! okay i'll watch some tennis.
black friend: American Gladiators. American Gladiators!

* Jerry: this paperwork isn't just gonna do itself.
wife: why not? i do myself all the time.

* i believe in magic wishes. but all of this is the result of inhaling the candle smoke.

* in the '80s, cool people wore open-toed sandals, Hawaiian shirts, and sunglasses with white plastic frames. and they drank milk from the carton cos kids weren't on them yet.

* whoa! it's the PlayStation Guy! i always feel bad for him, he had this really cool show which came on after the megahit ABC show, probably Desperate Housewives or something back then, that i thought never got a chance. it was funny and the star/writer of the show came on Conan that night with the most genuine hardworking smile on his face so proud of his creation before it was canceled the next week. Eden Sher from that show went on to acting, fame, and glory, but what about the rest of the Roseanne cast?

* fat Dr. Drew's really let himself go. i won't go there with the drugs. all HLN's fault of course.

* Ted Apples: how you like dem apples?
wife: okay that was kinda hot.
Ted Apples: your pussy's like a warm apple in newspaper on a New England chilly-night trashfire with cinnamon.
wife: shoulda quit while you were ahead.

* those bikini party girls were wished to Master Roshi by Bulma


* too many cooks in the kitchen spoils the broth on that kitchen countertop. WAY too early for a Holiday Special.

* check to see if the ethnic kid's NFL jersey is from a player who knelt

* does GrubHub deliver those new IHOB burgers? would really save me the trip on a Salinas country road

* wife/mom: Justin, your father's a good man, but he's a turkey so the whole Thanksgiving thing...kinda garlic rubs him the wrong way.

* poor kid didn't have the strength to snap a wishbone so they used a prop

* wife: like he's LITERALLY a turkey! don't ask me to sing the green bean casserole song, you know i don't know it!
Ted Apples: sorry about all the gravy on the countertop, ma'am, you really know how to gobble my giblets. please leave before my wife gets back.

* cop: are those coconuts you're showing me?
Ted: do you want them to be?

* wife: this sped-up version was the sex that conceived Justin in my belly.
Ted Apples: no time for food. there are no states anymore. just the state of fear.

* Ted Apples: i don't need your spray bottle like i'm a common disobedient housecat, dear! i watered myself this morning.
wife: are you cheating on me with the sun?

* Ted Apples: hey it's all legal now.
cop: it's still not legal to drive under the influence of a plant.

* wife: this is an intervention.
Ted Apples: but i got you a gift, son. it's from Toys R Us. it would have been a toy 4 months ago but then the bankruptcy and everything, it's not my fault.

* black boss: i want to talk to you tomorrow morning.
Ted Apples: about drugs?

* black boss: you should have stayed a piece of gum at the bottom of a shoe.

that would have been the title of Spalding Gray's next monologue

* Ted Apples: oh come on, wife! NOW you look hot and sexy?! NOW you decide to put on that robe you never put on before and look like Nana Visitor NOW that you've taken up with the cop?

* remember, all downward spirals can be soothed with a little Nine Inch Nails

* black friend: what's my name, man?
Ted: Plant Guy? hey i said Plant Guy not Black Guy.

* doctor: inoperable brain tumor.
Ted: what's the point of having a tumor if it can't be operated on?

* Ted: i don't have time to explain, just hand over the wish, boy! here, read this Nietzsche then grant me into Superman.

* Sad Dad, starring Keanu Reeves

* when they say it's your feature's not your feature presentation. it's never NEVER the correct format to fit your screen

* And Introducing Woody Allen as Writer, Director, Producer, and Bon Vivant

* kid: for the last time, we don't like being called sport. NO kid in the history of time has ever liked being called sport!!!

* wife: but first, coffee. it's like what you do, honey, with the selfies at the suicide forests. don't believe what they say, not all cum tastes the same. this one has the distinct flavor of weak authoritarianism and tears.

* oh please no more cries, not this week i can't take it. i'm praying hard here.

* Jerry O'Connell: and these were the lengths i had to go to to get a blonde.


happy weekend, my babies. dark horse: Switzerland. this World Cup tournament has already been determined and funded. it is secretly run by the Federer Feds. there is no deep state, the Swiss people are so nice they are upfront about their state and keep their island banks open 24/7. they can't have Swiss bank accounts themselves

Wednesday, June 20, 2018


The Line adjusts the rim of his beige fedora to showcase the huge chunk torn out of it from the grazing bullet. he is proudly and spits into his rum in a Sprite can slightly crushed under the weight of his hand which is always formed into a fist.

Grandmike, tryna keep a low profile with his eyepatch over his mouth: why are we here, Loo? why do we keep doing this? keep coming back here?

The Line: heehee, oh my nigga man, cos it's what we do like we do. 8 million seconds, let's make the most of it before the midterms. we might not need those midterms.

they don't need to knock even once. And Change answers the hot patio porch door without showing his face. he would have done this in broad daylight as well, he knows about cameras.

And Change: i told you never to darken my doorstep again. keep it down. keep quiet, Son is studying.

The Line: what you gon do, it's Watts. as for the noise, i heard they tore down the club next to you, too much white activity going on. hey man, i'm the one doing all the work. i'm hard like that, dedicated. we need you for numbers. is this any way to patronize your patron anyway? where the Patron? where the Patron at laid out?

And Change: you are no brother of mine. or birther for that matter. yeah i heard about your latest fiasco, i am unable to disable weather alerts on my phone, i was doing math with Son. you think these violent theatrics are the way to go? way to be, don't you see? that just fuels the other side. the harder you go, the wetter they get. there's only one way to do it right, so to speak: through the ballot box. removal is always more powerful than a ricochet.

The Line, leaning over And Change on the sill and grinning menacingly: is that right? well now i need you on as my campaign manager.

all the fellas in the shadows laugh.

The Line: aren't you gonna welcome me in? aren't you gonna comment on this shiny new suit i put on expressly for you? to woo you? i mean i put on my finest nude suit to greet you!

And Change: nude-colored suit, clever. no thanks. i'm tired. i'm always tired.

The Line: you got sunken eyes, boy. what you watchin' all the time? didn't you see me on stage? and the stage of tv? i bashed that Neo-Nazi scum's skull in at his own meeting just as he was about to impersonate Hitler with his finest European Right impersonation. spoilers: there was nothing inside his head. y'know i shouldn't call it an impersonation, there's nothing person about it. if only he could see how the Germans are now. and there's nothing Neo about him, he's as old as salt. it wuz beautiful. those skinny-looking white boys were soaked in crippling fear as they gazed upon my specimen, pale wastrel idiots encountering an actual real black man for the first time before their conservative-tears eyes bleary with midnight reddit. they were expecting a monkey and got King Kong. priceless! they peed their pants and became sponges cos the water weighed more than they did!

And Change: Holon, right? what a terrible name. appropriate tho. it's still useless your cold approach.

The Line: yeah maybe you're right. he put up not any fight, disappointing. sad. he kept clappening on about how he was a cog, a pawn, a poor player with no struts, a paid spokesman in a suit, not a soldier. he combed his neat hair so neatly with the comb out of his backpocket. not a fortunate soldier of hire. his vagina kept gushing on about how he wasn't the Big Bad. i want that Big Bad so bad.

And Change: stop playing. you can't lie anymore, the underground journalists who risk their lives everyday to bring us the straight scoop won't have it anymore, it's too important to get it right. they'll sniff you out online. you didn't bash his head in.

The Line: meh. well i tied his three-piece tailored suit so tight around his waist he dropped three dress sizes. as small as his spiffy shoe size. they will feel us before they read us. hey! do i make myself as crystal-clear as this Sprite in my hand?! i'll leave you alone for now. this battle's getting boring. don't fuck with me tho. if i can't have you our enemy sure as fuck can't! tomorrow's the next meeting. attend or it's your ass. at the same stage there those Nazi punks were, spoils of war and all that such. Obec College, 9. in the morning!

The Line's twitter blows up and he checks the cell on his phone. Grandmike smiles and puts the nude-suit thing on a rap record he puts online.

The Line: what. calm down! it's one of my bitches, Nancy Erstwhile. she wants me to come home. her pot is cooking and she needs a ladle. now.

at Obec College President Bump is giving a rally under heavy heavy HEAVY police guard. trash is being thrown in his general direction, trash that was meant to be saved up for two years on and hence, to be extra smelly with no sell-by date.

Bump: what. i reversed the policy. it's your fault. that was supposed to be for the season-finale cliffhanger. now what am i gonna do for the Midterms? you people have no sense of television tension. the show must go on, that's Hollywood fer ya. only I can be the hero of my villain. Bill Gates, how is my Space Force faring?

Bill Gates: sir, the consultants for the Space Force are Seth MacFarlane and also former writers and scribes for Star Trek: The Next Generation, which is the greatest tv show of all time. they have canceled the meeting with you cos they envisioned a future for humanity through their show that was completely destroyed by you. instead, i'm connecting you with Kim for your video date bumped up early. i'm taking my apple break early, where i eat an apple for lunch:

Bump: Kim, howdy! remember our date at the Gardens? just you, me, walking and talking and taking around trees and ice cream in the rain? getting to know each other. while the press scrum followed us like eels? and then i scurried you over to that private room cos i wanted to tell you something important without the cameras so it would come off as genuine. i looked longingly into your eyes, at least i think those were your eyes, and i told you i loved you. you reciprocated by nodding pleasantly, which was good enough. and then we celebrated in that room. Dennis Rodman came out of the table. Dennis Rodman WAS the meeting table, i never knew summit tables were that big, i never knew Dennis Rodman was that big! i should ask him how he pulled off that bit of magic, that's a new trick on me. i can never understand what he's saying when he talks tho. i'm really hoping he isn't a UN triple-spy! and the three of us laughed and laughed over Chinese food.

Bump changes the channel on his watch:

in the studio Alexi Lalas has kept his hands up the entire hour-long of the soccer show.

Kelly Smith, in jeans: Alexi, what are you doing? we haven't heard from you. normally we can't stop you, you're a fiery faucet, you talk so much it's like the hose water the goalie drinks on the pitch inbetween action shots waiting for the next boring thing to happen in our game.

Alexi: El Presidente our host told us to do the Iceland silent-zombie chant. and so i did. after each clap, each successive clap takes place in an interval of time longer and grownier than before. i've reached the timeframe where the next clap is an hour long.........*Alexi claps above his red head* and i'm done i did it now i can talk..........and the show's over. just i'll catch you online if you want the analysis.

El Presidente: i never said stop to Lexi cos i got distracted with my huge collection of every single one of the World Cup mascot dolls.

Bump: see? this is why i don't recognize soccer. i recognize golf, which was invented in America on a Kansan farm by Superman. i'm glad Dustin Johnson didn't win, that guy is too arrogant and annoying. i can relate to the common cooking man, i've gotten my girlfriends confused, too. you know the third round at Shinnecock my hometown where i'm from that was unplayable with the impossible pin locations? that wasn't just hard but over-the-top? like the circus tops the brown kids are playing in right now alongside cockroach infests? that's how i play the game of America. so that i and only i can save the day. i can send water over there to salvage the final round and the tournament. watch, i'll do it right now.

he lifts his finger which crackles with yellow energy. a huge hurricane forms above his coiffed head. it speeds to the golf course and dumps a pounding of wicked water on the area, creating a ton pudding. Bump begins feeling a sprinkling then whole cupsful of yellow liquid being tossed in his general location on his face.

Bump: i kicked my goal. you feel that?...............oh it's just pee from Team Mexico fans. and Team World fans for that matter. thank goodness, i thought for a moment there it was acid rain as i am wont to create. haha! my boss keeps scolding me telling me i need to work on my hurricanes more. who has time to train?! i'm teaching drama to unaccompanied minors.

on a small mountaintop by the fishing pond in the ecologically-sealed ecosystem behind the back of the MSNBC Studios lies Rachel Maddow with her beige fishing hat covering her freckled face. her plaid shirt is hidden nicely between the green reeds. her pole is sticking out like a sore thumb with no catches.

Rachel: time for a snooze, a few winks, a disco nap before the next live show.

Doryce and Gladyce poof out of nowhere and sit next to her and feel all of her around.

Gladyce: what seems to be the trouble, dear. you called for us?

Rachel: you guys are my fairy godmothers?

Doryce: everything but the god.

Gladyce: don't worry, dear, we're practically married.

Doryce: well we're practically dating. but that doesn't mean we can't have some fun.

Rachel: i figured i'd try my luck. Kramer from earlier was here at this exact spot and no bites.

Doryce: well that's odd, he's known as a biter.

Rachel: i have cyclical depression.

Doryce: cyclical depression? a quick scan of my reading materials...

Rachel: you won't find it in any Harvard medical journal. it's a disease only i have.

Doryce: huh. well ain't that special.

Gladyce: give me the night to figure out a spell for you. hopefully. i might even have to ask Jill...

as the witches leave in thin air they do so right as the hurricane directed by Bump flies overhead and cycles around Rachel, soaking her head to oblivion.

Bump: cured? liberalism is painful to kick. haha! u mad?!! the party left me years ago so i threw my own party.

Rachel: i felt that, which is the first step.

disembodied crone voices: oh wait dear, one more thing, do you have the directions to the resort? the one on Lake Pyramid. we've been waiting on that nice jovial Italian man who does the tours before.

Rachel: the Illuminati one?

Doryce, taking over as Gladyce inchwises: yes yes the Great Lake Pyramid, the illuminaughty one.

on the roof of the Obec College Gallery Kim Kardashian has a little powwow with newly-eloped Pete Davidson and Ariana Grande.

Kim K: okay you crazy kids, fools rush in, no judgement. i've got three candy bars here hidden in me.

Pete: don't make me do math.

Kim K: no it's the three new Snickers---Fiery, Espresso, and Salty & Sweet.

Pete: i'll take the Espresso, i'm always irritable.

Ariana: i'll take the Fiery cos look at my hair. on my bush. *shows*

Kim K: i'll take the Salty & Sweet cos i've turned over a new leaf! and i'm a poet right now! i decided to become a consultant, an activist, an advocate for change. i'm a one-woman UN, a communist! i'm like the brown woman in the UN but i didn't have to go to school! and to think i wouldn't have known about the brown woman in jail's case if i hadn't looked at my weather alerts for the first time. they are so fun how they pop up with that grating noise like that! this is my good deed for the life.

Ariana: um, you know you're a brown woman, too?

Kim K: not yet, dear, still working on the tan. but thank you.

Pete: i'm in love with you, Ariana. or it could be i'm afraid of heights and woozy right now. or maybe i need to think of something other than 9/11. or i'm not on my meds. or i'm doing this sticking it out with you this long out of spite just to stick it to your online haters which are my online haters. it's the Kevin Love defense.

Ariana spins her body and head around three times and gets stuck between the skinny ladder.

Ariana: whoa whoa whoa i'm flying into space! i know how you feel, we're soulmates. i could use a donut or eight right now. we each have tragedies we're trying to escape. hence this fire exit. get it? see? we're both funny. you have a naturally goofy face, i can make a goofy face and sing goofy on command when i think back to my Nickelodeon sitcom days and that nice jovial plump Italian man. i hope i'm remembering these incidents from my working life right and haven't gone all black-out.

Kim K: i know about that.

Ariana: my working life tends to bleed into my life. MeToo and such,

Kim K: i know about both things,

Ariana: my mouth is burning...i can't feel my tonsils...

Pete: wasn't me. wanna get outta here and go to a 16-million-dollar glass palatial-tower lovenest apartment or something?

Ariana: i prolly should have done the Espresso one seeing as my name is Grande and all. i dreamt about you, boy. i dreamed you up, dreamed that i would dream about finding you.

Kim K: no, that's Swaggy P.

Ariana: do you have any water?

Kim K: always. prolly just the sugar rush for all three.

And Change waits for the steps to die. he descends the secret staircase, scratching the door on the way down, and reaches his basement by uncovering the white sheet on his door. he sets up the tripod and swings it closer to his chest. he mounts it on cinder blocks and pushes the red button, facing the lens up to his big nose. he begins his nightly ritual:

And Change: hoboy boys n hos, ladies and gentlemen, what is this world of ours spinning and spitting now? ain't fire. what is everyone doing? they're going out there shooting up the streets championing their causes with their chickenheads cut off and their flags stuffed inside. as their followers lace their paths like rose-bearers. this is not the way to revolve. everyone's got it wrong. your friends are not your friends. once you choose a side, you're dead. i trust in myself, there's only one thing that's important. i trust in maths. we will win with numbers. want me to show you my latest charts?

he doesn't know if anyone is out there listening, picking up what he's putting down. if he has any followers. but he sends his missives down their cyber way anyway everyday just the same. this is his freedom, his escape, his outlet, his therapy in a mad world that gets madder with each broadcast.

And Change: you know the real reason Kaepernick is doin' all this for, right? Marlana VanHoose, real talk, google it, google the game, google the gang. put that on your underground watch and bury it. just don't look at the other-suggestions pictures to the right of her, ha. haven't seen Colin in ages, hope he's okay. gotta watch out for our fam. and with that, Mulatto Messiah out!

he doesn't know. but he can feel a strange presence emanating along the edge layer of his computer screen everytime he pushes the red button. it has no face, name, gender, identity of any kind. it's more, it's not any one thing. it's the people themselves rising up, it's every human corporation coming out from behind the shadows into the blinding light of its own flashing computer light. it's the entire cloud. he gets supernaturally excited to be able to draw such a spirit out. he has his own tv show now. he wouldn't have minded if he had wasted all this time alone, his time, he wasn't hurting anyone, but it's good to know he doesn't have to be totally anonymous. he figures it's a win in his column no matter what. if it's oppo research from any one enemy, he's important enough. if it's Bill Gates his mind races over what kind of product will come from And Change's basement insight. from And Change being the independent that he is.

and so to celebrate, And Change puts on some music. his favorite music, the one song, the only song he plays again on repeat 90 times a day, over and over, his song, the one he composed himself, that bad rap song currently polluting the local airwaves that nobody knows how it got to have a source without a backtrack. where he lyrics about how he's the king of his own castle in some faraway unnamed African lands. he dances as he always do, with his hips slightly swinging and his fists slightly clenched and up close back and forth in front of his face like he's doing the Stairclimber without a mirror.

or perhaps it's just a ghost

Monday, June 18, 2018


can't wait for the new Total Drama, it's been ages

1. what was your biggest worry five years ago? do you still have the same worry or feel the same way about it at this minute? 

that i would die before making even my slight imprint on this world. that no one would know about my art. it's getting better on that front thanks to Instagram and better vitamins. i don't have to be famous despite the name of my blog which I named personally myself, i don't have to have all the money. right now i only have enough money for one ankle weight. i don't need to be JK Rowling. btw why does JK Rowling have an instagram? seems redundant. all she has to do if she wants to broadcast a message to the world is pick up her phone.

2. do you have a negative or positive body image? what factors contribute to your self body image? a) ads b) media and social media c) comments from others d) introspection and analysis of self

i'm too skinny to think about this. in a bad way. for a while there Bill O'Reilly was the only Factor. my i'm glad things changed. media and social media have now merged as one dangerous echo chamber. this is why i only trust Batman, bats stay away from echo chambers to locate their souls. using echolocation. the media gets blamed for a lot but it's not their fault that Jared Leto looks that good in gold. if anything it made me give up my inflatable dolls and opt for an inflatable pool to put my new gondola in. i turned off the comments on my social media but realized that just renders the whole thing moot. instagram without comments is a silent art gallery. is it really a social without interaction? even if you're holding a pop? i tried martial arts like Batman but ended up karate-chopping my heart. i fell in love with my instructor but it was a forbidden love cos i was white and she was black belt. Kim K told me i was fat. like she meant it in a good way, like a fat butt. or maybe she meant phat butt it's tough to read sarcasm online. and no one has used phat since David Letterman.

3. how confident are you as a person? a) no confidence at all b) confident round friends and family c) confident at work and in my job d) very confident in my surroundings---work, social settings, with strangers

i'm more confident around strangers. my friends don't like that. what exactly counts as your surroundings? cos i live in a virtual 360-degree world. i never take off my eye-phones and electronic cat-ears.

i was confident this morning till i saw JK Simmons pumping iron all buff. this is a sad commentary on our society, old men are not allowed to become kindly and dottering anymore. JK was a guest on David Letterman's show and he interviewed Dave instead, he made Dave cry when he shouted at him. so much so Dave grew out his beard to look like his captor. i have the sneaking suspicion JK stands for Just Kidding. have you ever seen JK Rowling and JK Simmons in the same picture? jus' sayin'. she/he is obviously operating on a whole higher level than you or i. not saying it's black magic or Scientology or anything, but it's, well, let's just call it cold confidence.

4. how creative a person are you? why? a) not creative b) average creativity c) creative in some situations d) very creative

too creative. i can't control it. my mind is constantly bombarded with my own craziness like a drill. mind control is one thing, but what are you supposed to do when it's your own mind doing the mind-control?

people think soccer is easy, dumb, and boring, but it takes creativity to score a goal. to dance like a Brazilian barber and juke and jive and psych-out each defender on your blazing path of glory to the storming cross in the back of the onion bag. R.I.P. Tommy Smyth's onions.

this is how i got those rugburns on my knees i swear it:


5. do you resent things being uncertain and unpredictable? why? a) agree b) undecided or don't know c) disagree 

d) remind me later

bonus: what do you wish you had invented? 

a way to watch cartoons live as they're happening the way you can watch a World Cup match live as it's happening

facebook bots. it's not what you think. yes i'm doing this from my basement bedroom but i'm lonely. i only did it cos i wanted sempai to notice me. i heard Zuckerberg is required by federal Senate-confirmed law to friend everyone who's on facebook so there's no one with zero. i hear Mark's a pretty chill dude

coffee stirrers. coffee stirrers are one of those things that you think would have been invented long ago just out of gravity and inertia but actually were never invented until you decided to invent them

Friday, June 15, 2018



* welcome to paradise, dun-dun-dun............dun dun dun dun dun-dun-dun..........Ameridise...

* something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. why is blue the color of choice? it just seems that's a pretty big deal to be the only color in the ancient spell. you would think it'd be pink. the ancient witches were very progressive.

* ripped jeans and swings with no safety inspectors. god i miss the '80s.

* everyone goes to Catholic day-school till the Bomb drops

* a specific date in the future is given. that's not Nov 4, 2020...

* talk is cheap. missiles are expensive.

* in their defense, they were only trying to achieve the world's biggest mushroom so everybody could get happy. it was the world's largest legalization of marijuana/UN Peacekeeping Mission

* wake up, guys on my couch, this isn't a video game!

* she's hot, she's got my vote.

* parody from the Gatekeepers is like a Chick tract. remember when you FIRST thought Lara Croft was hot? Bernie Sanders was the only one who survived, let's enjoy this one year of bliss with him together while we can. look at my dimples, i mean come on you can trust these dimples!!! on the whole pet/food thing i respect your choice but that doesn't give you license to eat my cat. it's a little gamey, i won't bullshit you and tell you it tastes like chicken, it doesn't.

* McPherson is dangerous, she's already hot why does she need to be Savior, too? that's too much power for one person! Jesus was average-looking according to the Bible. i won't bullshit you, when i say magic dust i mean real magic dust, not pot. look at my drug records, they were done by that doctor who looks like a Muppet. my opponent IS the system, even though it's only been three days. blood is a commodity we don't have! we need all that labor to reconstruct the dam that holds back the rivers of blood, apparently something happened over the railroad tracks i don't know i never go there. don't worry, i worship Sacram. not Satan, Sacram. comes from the root word for Sacrifice. just think of the lavage as a spa not a cleansing. want a ride in my black helicopter?

* i am Queen of the Rats. yes divorced, please don't ask where the king is. we don't mind being treated as pets but we were promised we'd win the Triple Crown every year. we rats INVENTED radiation, doesn't that count for something!? this is my chart that is also my giant piece of swiss cheese, i burned it a bit on the stove. i can smell the lies on you. i can't smell myself that's impossible. i'm so old i come from a time when cabals were good things, they were just meetings of good honest people at taverns. if factions are shaking palms and paws, does it matter how greased they are? if you're talking you're not fighting. the Quorum gave me an A rating, they don't know how to read and are just starting to learn their letters but still.

* wait don't change the channel! this isn't another KFC Colonel commercial. just kidding, you can't change the channel even if you wanted to. i am a hereditary dictator but that just means i value heritage. it looks like i have a gin goblet in my hand but i don't. they don't call me anything now......cos there are no more phones. do not politicize this tragedy, that's the last thing we need. i call her Adelaide after my favorite Power Rangers villain. i'm not creepy, the dolls are. if it keeps you less lonely, is it really such a bad thing? i mean that's why facebook was created, right? sorry, i won't mention the apprentice again, i know that's upsetting. i want teachers to be armed......with G 3 speed, the lightning speed of a bullet fired by a gun, Disney speed, not Samsung speed. robots are a good thing, they can handle the masturbation duties while we focus on more important things like society. robots don't need to wait an hour before starting another session the way humans do.

* Star Wars sucks! yeah i said it! completely misrepresented our people! the action-figure comes in the wrong-color robe! it's blue, dumbass, can't you see we wear blue!? the bandages on our heads are from our endless wars that YOU caused, it's not a religious symbol! hack job, total hack job.

* Brain: I am Brain. Father Brain. yes i am the Rat Queen's ex-husband. is it just me or is there an echo in here? i appreciate making my voice sound more ominous but i actually have a sweet-sounding voice, it's the reverb from being in this empty warehouse, can the boom-operator fix that? thanks. i appreciate you giving me this stool otherwise it'd be awkward cos you couldn't see me, i'm short. it's not as cute when it's not Groot, huh? i've fired my campaign manager, he had nothing to do with me. can someone change my water? it's getting a little yellow. this will all be worth it when i win and devalue all the currency. how am i speaking without a body? use your brains. oh you can't speak? too late, I AM your brain!

* vote for me, i'm American. you can trust me, i speak clearly, plainly, simply, and with no accent.

* big-box stores are the future. there is no more need for moms and pops. i haven't visited my folks in ages. the last time i saw my parents was when Brain came to visit me in Connecticut during the fall.

* Brain bloopers, to humanize me

* i miss when Cartoon Network did live-action...


this is how Cristiano scored that goal:


and then he scored the goal when Nacho was distracted.

Cristiano: i'm a good actor. i was named after Ronald Reagan.

happy weekend, my babies

Monday, June 11, 2018


when i was young, i didn't need to believe. i knew He was Risen, i could see it with my own two eyes of a child. i turned on the tv and watched Alexi Lalas put his hand on his heart and sing the national anthem and i knew he was Jesus, alive again. it was His Miracle when we got that World Cup ball that was red.

what is Alexi Lalas thinking right now? listen i'm the last person who would ever be labeled jingoistic, but the World Cup this quarter quadrangle is gonna be quite weird without the United States in the tournament. it's just gonna be strange to watch. i mean it wasn't like i was more invested when the U.S. was playing, but the U.S. was playing which was always a curious thing to watch. i'm not sure why i would watch without a rooting interest, except of course for when i take those long eternally expansive train rides in the Siberian snow where one can contemplate his or her existentialism and think about what post-Putin Russia will look like after Putin has so graciously decided to relinquish power after five years or so...

prediction: England over Iceland in the final

my spectacle juices are up, but do you see Alexi Lalas's pained expressions when he's doing the tv spots for Telemundo about how everyone is ready to analyze and go all-in on the Mexican National Team? it's awkward, what is the entire billion-dollar Fox Sports machinery paid-for in advance supposed to do with the U.S. out? they have to cheer on El Tre. you can see the steam coming out of his grin-and-bear-it clenched-teeth smile as Lexi does the promos. he's pretending to be excited but he's muttering in his closed mouth for El Tre to kick tres rocks. cheeks as red as his hair. Alexi wants to still have his Viking hair but he can't cos he's corporate now. Alexi Lalas does not give a fuck about the Mexican National Team.

i mean did you see the Triple Crown? that was the easiest Triple Crown of all time. NBC Sports panned to the crowd in the stables and they were all one-clapping and going


it was the most muted celebration for this feat which is otherwise otherworldly and considered the hardest to achieve in all of sports. all the air dropped out of the room, which is quite the feat since it was outside. you could hear a horseshoe nail drop, get rid of all the horseshoes!!! you see? it's happening. nobody cared anymore. it just wasn't the same. god bless Justify, you were born in the wrong era. poor thing's just a horse trying to get by. you are the Second Red Sox title, not the First One after 80 years. even Baffert was like, "yeah, this one's for Mike Smith, he deserves it. but American Pharoah will always be my first love." ours, too, Bob, ours, too. btw is the investigation wrapping up?

1. if you were an ice-cream flavor, what would you be and why? pizza. cos there's no such thing as bad ice cream. you know Wendy's named the Vanilla Frosty after a technique of mine.

2. what are the best sexy skills you bring to a sexual relationship? when i lick an ice cream cone, i lick the cone off first, leaving the ice cream to float in midair. that's how sexy my tongue is.

3. what is the single largest problem causing you angst in your romantic relationship (current or most recent relationship)?

time and distance, which are the same thing if you blink hard enough. pro tip: your third eye is not supposed to blink. time is a construct, as Hannibal Buress says. hey after the Cosby thing this man is a clairvoyant.

i do not know how to love. i'm working on this with my therapist. my therapist and i are in love. it's her fault, she told me to list my heroes. i said Mick Jagger who seduced his own therapist.

4. what is the best part about being in a relationship with you? i'll leave you alone, i won't bother and pesky you with endless DMs. i won't pester, i'll eat the bugs on my trail. i'll spend large stretches of time off the grid without a word of contact, months and years of stone silence, all in advance of me still working on that novel/adult coloring book of mine. it's harder to draw than to write.

5. what is the biggest misconception people have about you? just cos i live in Carmel doesn't mean i'm rich. i'm dirt poor, we got our house on a lucky break. and we're paying for it now, constantly under threat of losing it. i've had to scale back to such a degree. i now grocery-shop once a month. i look like the Superman from The Flashpoint Paradox. Skinny Superman is my hero.

bonus: when you look at old photos of yourself, do you like what you see? yes, those were the glory halcyon days. there's a pic of me in soft cloudy with my little red overalls on with a giant picture of a lion in a cage buttoned on my front. an old man with Coke-stained teeth came up to me one day at the zoo and erased the bars of the lion cage with his pencil. he told me all vegetarians were frauds cos they still ate animal crackers. that fucked me up for life and i never returned to the zoo again.


Friday, June 8, 2018


what are we to make of all this then? i told ya! we're gonna have an NBA Champion before a Belmont Champion! notice how i didn't say Triple Crown Champion. nah, LeBron wouldn't go out like that, right? this has gotta be a pride game, Tyronn Lue the Lu doesn't get nearly enough credit. he's not a Bad Lieutnant, it's just what are you gonna do when it's just LeBron and some scrubs? Tyronn has to clear the bench, use EVERY SINGLE man on the roster, the subs and those not-yet-signed from Europe. he's gotta use SIMBA if need be! SCAR!

would Michael Jordan be able to win an NBA Finals all by himself? yes but only with the help of BUGS BUNNY.

besides, i like the pronunciation LEFTENANT better.

i noticed something which makes me very sad. it's gonna be a long boring cold lonely summer. after this weekend, there's nothing going on. no sports. and because the tennis gods deemed to have a longer like taffy separation from French to (S)Wimbledon, we gotta wait longer for the Fortnight with no more mead at the tavern. why do the gods hate us so? is it cos we don't play sports?

here's the central concern. if Justify does it---smooth gallop notwithstanding---and Justifies his existence, that really starts to sully the Triple Crown. makes the cup less buffed around the rim. the Triple Crown should be hard, it's SUPPOSED to come around once every FORTY years. if it starts to happen every other year like the Maryland 1000-year-floods, it might as well become a participation trophy. or like one of those trophies handed out every year like the Stanley Cup, go ask Ovechkin right now. btw it's confusing cos there's Ovechkin and then there's Ovie. don't wake the bear, don't hit the goalie before.

American Pharoah MY TUT it's still annoying to spell that incorrect name correct! i've forever forgotten how to properly spell pharaoh which i need to do or i won't be granted access to the golden kingdom upon death. make sure you don't remove that coin and rolled-up papyrus paper with instructions in my mouth as a selfie joke. don't go tell it on the mountain nude when that mountain is a Maori mountain. what becomes of American Pharoah? he becomes just another horse. forgotten. in the dustbin of carrots and sugarcubes and lucky horseshoes which how can a horseshoe be lucky? they're painful on the horse. i mean at least when you google-search American, Pharoah comes up first before Psycho. but for how long?

get that movie made of American Pharoah before the studio funds run not gallop dry. they only had enough to make the Secretariat movie? come on, Disney, that's why you secured the Star Wars money. to make more talking-horse movies.

see American Pharoah got his cut tail fixed, it's long now, luxurious and shampooed and conditioned, he got plastic surgery, he's not the same unknown horse we fell in love with, he never will be again he went Hollywood.

which brings me around like a horseshoe bend to this: Tiger Woods is good for golf, NOW. see? are the Golden State Warriors good for basketball? see?


don't trust the live odds, trust the brain trust. don't trust your own brain, trust the pretty flying colors. see you Sunday and here's to camaraderie in a world of cold carrots. share a piss with your neighbor. will you call me on Monday?

Wednesday, June 6, 2018


in the cluttered pantry of files and overstuffed finales, Robert Mueller is pondering not pandering his next move. he takes years to ponder. he paces back and forth on the rickety cat-alley hanging above the rafters with the one Cleveland Cavaliers banner hanging above the rim of the nonexistent basketball court. the furrows on his brow have grown wider but not longer.

Mueller: come up here, son.

his hand that was on his furrowed forehead now beckons Avenatti with a wave of fingers which require no ring. Avenatti's sparkling eye blues blink up as he acknowledges the signal and his head becomes a flaming burning sun. Ave takes hold of the long green tie Mueller lowers from the brown rafters and holds on for dear life his butt up as he tries not to fear life in front of his predecessor enjoying the ride. he makes it to the top and brushes off the nails from his nails. he ponders across the albright avenue bustling with breakers.

Mueller: enjoying the enhanced view, kid? this will all soon be your league.

Avenatti: should i speak or remain silent?

Mueller: never whisper a question you don't know the answer to, that's the prime directive of the Department. also, never be quiet when you can pound your anal fist on the table.

Mueller slides the tie around Avenatti's neck and pulls it close to his chest.

Mueller: you promise not to tell?

Avenatti: *sweat pouring off his bald forehead* gulp. you mean where i'm getting my information from for the cable talk shows, sir?

Mueller: no. about us. i gotta have one thing that Ashley Parker doesn't know about yet.

the two wrestle for a bit feeling each other out and then the claws come out. they make out and form a ball of dirt and wavy lines and flying four-letter-words and other nondescript xs and os and ox and symbols and equal signs above their heads as they fuck like cats. more descriptedly like Garfield and Heathcliff.

Avenatti: sir, are you sure this playground bannister will hold?

Mueller: sure, Ave, you just continue saying your ave marias. i'll be gentle on ya.

President Bump has been looking up and watching the whole thing. he has to rub his eyes and make them wider which is hard to do with his eyes. he forces his eyes wider by shooing away all the wrinkles with his fingers, but overflabby skin still overlaps.

Bump: do my eyes deceive me? is that Bob Mueller or is that...

Bump blinks his eyes repeatedly but can't stop seeing Melania go in and out where Mueller's bodyspace is, like a broken hologram on the fritz. Melania is wearing headgear after her hospital stay, cream-colored bandages wrapped tight on her pointy head in a cube held coarsely by a distinctive pin: a mini circular branch.

Bump: i think i've been at this too long. i better get back to work. or to work. WHOA! who's spread out splayed out nude on the wooden oak meeting table like this? with her long frizzy raven hair getting caught on the table corner knob? normally that was would get me exercised but i'm a bit discombobulated at the moment. are you the body sushi model i ordered? i mean Kim ordered?

Kim Kardashian: this is the Kim Summit, right? well here i am. time for you to climb the summit. i'd turn around and show you my ass but the hair thing...

Bump: is that a giant bowl of dip or your tits? or are you just happy to see me? like the bowl is a punch bowl.

Kim K: taste my raw fish but don't throw the sour rice. so you'll release that poor woman in prison?

Bump: sure, release all the women, they're just women. is she an illegal? whatever i don't care anymore, that policy was impossible to enforce and read. the only thing that's gonna seal the borders is that special black glue liquid-rubber sealant on tv that's rainproof. who says i'm not down with the blacks? where's that? Mooch, get Billy Mays on the phone. i have a computer problem so i'm glad i invited or at least someone on my staff remembered to invite Bill Gates's daughter to help me. hello.

Bill Gates's daughter: ...

Bump: so i'm trying to scroll for my nudes i mean my scores on my Apple Watch here and i get the same set of pics every time. it's like the internet is only spitting out one of five pics: it's either gonna be Prince Harry doing something, that woman who is on the first cover of Playboy when they decided to go back to doing nudes, Erin Andrews sitting in that damn courtroom box a woman who was granted a large settlement and never has to work a day in her life again just cos a man was being a man---talk about choosing a job you love---, Jennifer Lawrence clothed in red scales in her pool with that weird white parrot on her shoulder talkin' bout interminably her first nude scene in a movie like that was the first nude scene in ANY movie, fucking Greitens, and that mystery woman in the grey sweatpants and yoga tanktop who comes up when yous search housekeeping who's smiling into the camera whilst polishing the knobs of the pieces of a chessboard with an old yellowed picture of the ill-fated 1845 Phoenix ship behind her. can you make it so i get new pics come up when i search? keep the chess lady, though, she's blonde and hot and i feel i should learn chess finally. i have the face that you think this guy knows how to play chess!

Bill Gates's daughter: ... ... ... maybe try Pear Watch?

Bump: i like you. you know you have a hot body in that cockatil dress. like a cody body. it's strange that your shape came from one of Bill Gates's swimmers. sorry but this is all i have to ogle not google at now that Miss America didn't follow my example and go back to how tings were. what am i gonna look at now? would you mind trying on my robe? that's what Miss Zmerica calls "evening ballroom attire" now. i mean i guess your bra and panties which i can see through your clothes count as a bikini.

Bill Gates's daughter: ...

Bump: thanks for the fix. no now wait now all i'm getting for pictures no matter what keyword i search is a BALD HEAD!!! THE SAME BALD HEAD!!!

Avenatti: mine? yes! i'm finally moving up in the world.

Bump: not you, cowboy. my eternal rival, me enemy for life, no room for frenemy, Lex Luthor! BEZOS that bugger!!!

Kim: i'm the other Kim, let's go, i'm in a rush to get back to my horses. which are my missiles. and i want to listen to the new King Missile.

Bump: thanks for the fix. i like to know i still have power to throw around every once in a while. what's this? what's with this letter? what's with the novelty envelope?

Kim: this is my Dear Kim letter. i wrote it staying up all night under candlelight. it's filled with my utmost heart feelings. for you all for you. it's how i really think.

Bump: okay, thank you. it's just weird that the envelope is fun-size. *opens it up with his fingernail* let's see what we got here to read..............wait, YOU'RE the last remaining Isis fighter we haven't bombed to kingdom come of virgins yet? damn it, Kim. i wanted to take credit for that 100% clean bill of health for the record, y'know?

Kim: of course i am. look at my black jacket!

Bump: *perusing without his glasses* wait YOU WERE the secret FBI spy embedded in my campaign?

Kim: of course. i had to know, Mickey, i had to know. why are you mad that the FBI is secretive?

Bump: *rustling the envelope like a bird* Kim, it's just, i mean, i thought we were friends.

Kim: friendships are built on a foundation of truth. like a pebble in a well. it's still a trial run, man. let's take things slow, take the tale by the tail. let's start wth frenemies first. you promised me a reciprocal. where's my Dear Don letter? i want to have it on record so i can take it back home with me and pin it to my ceiling and glance at it for reference when you're not around and laugh like friends.

Bump: i'll get right on that. prolly will take the summer. i'll have the Mooch dictate. i've never written a letter before. we have much to discuss and i'll talk to you later. too much noise, drilling in the Cream House, can't concentrate, i'm putting up the BUMP golden letters on the Cream House portico. kids! how are you?

Bump takes the kids from the Florida school to a local Bump DC-area Lazer Tag enclosed classic stadium. along 5th Ave.

Bump: you guys have great aim. how bout this forum, huh? sorry i know you wanted to attend a football game but since the Patriots lost that place is off-limits. wait, stay here unattended, i have to do something classic while i'm here.

Bump takes his laser gun and points the light at the forehead of a hologram of Comey.

in Guatemala, Nadal in his orange Goku gi flies around to the summit, atop where all that damn lava is spilling out, and rescues an old brown woman from the prison of the crater. as well as her 2yo little daughter who was gonna be sacrificed to an ancient god. Nadal plants his free jailbirds on the soft ground next to where Doryce and Gladyce are lounging in purple sunglasses.

Nadal: haha, i was granted the power, not Golden Boy Federer, how do you account for this, dumb smartguys in the press-room? i lift weights. didn't you hear? it's all over the internet! Volcan de Fuego. have you no strength? why aren't you helping? i know you can do something. don't you read what's under Lupin Lodge? i was so bored at the French Open i decided to save lives, and this was before the rain delay. the rain delay at the French was the only time i felt wet over there.

Dirg: *from Doryce's watch* perfect opportunity for man to fight volcano. nobody reads internet comments. everyone figures that these people are trying to make a name for themselves this one opportunity they have before they die anonymous and alone so they're deliberately berating the place with false facts. basically nobody believes anything about anything happening online.

Laertus: yeah. there is no god. you know instagram? nobody actually looks at the Instagram picture or reads under for the comment. they like the pic simply to show they're still part of your followers list and to acknowledge you're still alive and breathing.

Nadal: kicking. what do i have to do to prove the urgent? here, take a bite of my recipe. it's my infamous Borderless Enchilada. it's my mother's recipe pero i never knew my mother. it will bring the colonies together.

the two crones acknowledge that it is indeed quite good and tasty in their biteful but not spiteful mouths.

Doryce: *crusty, slamming her glasses into her KY handbag on her lap and putting the handbag on the ground* for you, young man, as i was saying, "i was born naked and i'm gonna die naked!..."

Gladyce: did someone call for a goddess? or at least a Welsh suffragette? okay, dear, it is accomplished. it's fixed. the volcano's over. done. for at least 1000 years. or maybe 2 i'm getting old. next time get more stable leaders, the Earth simply reflects its environment. leaders who are willing to be led. take care of and heed the magnolia pods which will grow around the ring of the ash on top of the crushed crust lava, they are magic spells. and maybe don't build those mansions on top of volcanoes?

it's Game 7 of the NBA Finals. Warrior Cav. after a marathon session of seven full tiring grueling strenuous overtime basketball games, it's come down to the last overtime. a half-second on the clock after the five minutes. LeBron is exhausted and touches his calf but knows he must take the last shot. he stands on the half-court circle bubble and a tear comes to his robotic red eye, he can feel all the emotions. he knows this is the finale to a ballet of ball brilliance the two teams, heavyweight gangs, have been waging on each other by dancing with each other cheek to toe across crosscountry streets. and this final shot which only LeBron will take, granted by no man, will be the falling curtain close of the suite. but before, backstory:

Draymond: sorry for punching you and glancing you and giving you that bloody eye, LeBron, i didn't mean it this time.

LeBron looks at Draymond with a jerky headtilt. his red eye is androidic, and the red right light which streams out of his pupil shines a light on the scoreboard overhead.

LeBron: look at the scoreboard, JR Smith. it's right.

Draymond: how are you doing this? how are we tied 1-1?

LeBron: i went back in time to ensure justice. i am the Terminator. Swaggy P, how's Iggy?

Swaggy P: i thought he's still out and won't be playing. you mean my ex-wife? she's here!? in the stadium? yo LeBron can you do a favor for me? heehee, just playin' you know me i'm the Joker i'm always kidding around. i had a dream that you'd make the last shot and break out hearts.

Iggy Azalea: *in the stands* i was mad at you for a long. but art has helped me recover my spirit and your cheating heart. i no longer show my tits on Instagram. now i draw. i'm doing a webcomic on my blog. it's like Ziggy but it's more modern and more about fashion. i picked up my tips at a summer internship i bought taught by Alan Bored at Exodus College, you know the brilliance behind the Hurt Locket work? i didn't want to go back to Australia, they've disowned me there.

LeBron goes for the final shot. the big orange ball of tiny bumps slows midair in slow motion. no music. before it reaches the basket JR Smith blocks it.

at the rickety mansion:

Alan Bored: yeah so i was so glad when i got rid of the last of that peppered bacon. i can't strip pieces off that pepper bacon and give to my cats for fear of them choking. here. they're not gifts, they're parting gifts. part.

the reclusive author points to a beefsteak tomato for Dirg and a silver-spoon ladle for Laertus on the frilled table.

Alan: this is your tomato, Dirg, use it as you see fit. *hitting Laertus on the forehead with the ladle* just don't let THIS guy turn you into sauce!

Laertus: that felt weird.

Dirg: this is the game i play with myself when i'm bored. i look up any keyword, then type nudes after it in the box and look at the images which pop up. it's fun and unlimited especially if you start adding phrases and well-worn idioms. i'll get more into this next time.

Laertus and Alan: what?

Laertus: i think i have you figured out. you're a Bad Guys Win, you use Fridge Logic to throw us off our game, you're a Squishy Wizard...

Alan: what on fuck earth are you babbling about with this, boy?

Laertus: i use the site Tv Tropes to explain everything life has to offer. everything that happens to me in life can be boxed into one of those tropes. it's my Bible. i'll preach about this more at a future date and time.

Dirg: so come on, man. come back to college with us. teach us, we kids who have lost our way.

Laertus: yeah.

Alan: i can't. I...............can't............

the man whom the boys thought they had been talking to all this time was a hologram, not a man. the projection turns green and disappears and the resultant spark catches the curtain of the screen on fire. when the fire clears, the background is revealed. it's a machine of large lined-up cardboard boxes with clocks painted on them in white paint, clocks which are moving in real time ticking away. the ticking is like bees buzz. in front is a hollowed-out chair for a throne, on top of its seatcushion a yellow juice-box, on its right band sits a steel record-player with no record. a long cylindrical spidery needle of threaded copper spins the circle with a grating sound from hell. light-green computer paper with holed perforated sides is printed out fast with fast facts in ink spouting out on the left side through a slit. the source of the projection of its doomy voice is unknown.

Alan: I AM THE DOOMSDAY CLOCK. this is my art. my continuous stationery. from behind the beginning this creation curtain i was able to observe your species for centuries and galaxies. i recorded all the voices for posterity. and prosperity. i wrote all the books and drew all the letters. i shape the debate. never shake the debate. drowning the discourse. i spit out what you wanted. sure there were massive seachanges in human history, bumps in the road, but you always felt that eventually we'd figure it out and be on our way again. bets wouldn't be as dire and show themselves to be props. until all screens fell and we became one cured disease. when the arc defeated the arch without an Ark. but i must confess....and this scares me greatly and grandly.....i fear......this time.....this present time.....I do not know what is going to happen....................