Wednesday, February 27, 2019


Bunim: well it's time for the gang to go on a field trip as we always do with these reality-tv show casts. it's a way to go away so the people who have had their relationships and entire worlds tossed around and upside down and reputations permanently tattered by their misplaced maladroit misinformed quests for fame and endorsement-deal fortune can come back tighter and knitter and neater and kiss and make up. and hopefully fuck. fuck in a waterfall or something by disclasping coconut bras and coconuts over dicks, that sort of thing, mama still needs to pay the bills, even though MTV is not filming any of this. make-up sex with an ex is the best sex, but vacation sex is the most scenic. i for one won't be accompanying cos my back still hurts. besides, i just need an ipad from 1994 to watch everything unfold from the comfort of my buttoned couch-chair. the crew will be there on the trip, help them up if they trip while filming your sorry privileged asses who get to go to Hawaii for free.

the first stop is a surfing cove beautifully encircled by bright blue stalagjites, the icicles which grow BOTH up and down. the water is so blue it merges with the sticks and is made hidden by an avalanche of palm trees gently swaying and made heavy by the weight of vaction cum on them.

Aaron from last season is the instructor, his Viking locks of goldenness make the girls scream and seam, and Rachel and Cory especially are interested. so is Jo but that footage doesn't get shown, Cory's interest is tempered a bit. by the volcano's temperature heat nearby.

Rachel: Aaron, what are you doing here? you're on the wrong season.

Aaron: i am forlorn. i miss Dom, Dominic said he wanted nothing to do with the show after it wrapped. we had such a good time traveling to Ireland with him to visit his hard-drinking grandfather who died on the couch. that's where he and i really bonded at that event. imagine a more unlikely mateship. me, a SoCal surfer dude with the chipped cheeks and fake plastic smile from Manhattan Beach, he the pasty-white Irishman who is in a band but not U2 and wears a black leather jacket to sleep. and had spiky hair when spiky hair was still cool. Dom didn't attend our reunion special show on MTV and left me in the lurch with an irish goodbye, all i could say during the special was how great a guy he was. i wanted to branch out creatively, maybe start a college UCLA band, i wanted to start a band called Radiohead, but it seems i'll just be a boring lawyer i guess.

the girls take to the lessons like dolphins or black swans to water, the boys not so swimmingly. it appears the boards don't work great for guys with their penises in the way, it's hard to steer. the girls have more of a shape to attach onto the surfboard and steer it with their tits. the boys start to grumble.

Judd: can you believe this? a big dickus is a liability here! i'm trying to flirt but Rachel's taking up all the oxygen, overwater.

Aaron: hey, there's nothing special with the boards. they're just boards. guess it pays to be flat as a board, down there.

second, the group try out a new technology called a zipline. it is wondrous. and completely new so the sensation of flying down a thin wire attached to the tip of a volcano to the bottom pier of a cove cave is, well, extraordinary. the sensation of air makes one super. holding onto a bicycle crank as your only savior is damn dangerous as well. one of the crew with a green feather in his soapbox-derbycar helmet tries to camera while zipping down to maybe download the vid to a sharing site or something after but unfortunately he lunges to the depths below. but the camera remains in place on the crank and saves the footage so it's a win for Bunim's online site. Bunim breathes a sigh of relief which is caught on her hot mic.

Aaron takes the trekkers outside the cove's edges to a canopy of sands heated by hidden rays of sunlight. tourists are gathering to jump in a hole in the sand, the newest path to self-actualization by tiki torch.

Aaron: nothing to it. it's like the Smurfs only underwater.

Rachel: you're cute when you speak, blondy, i like the muscles in your mouth. we'll follow you to do anything jackassy.

but Judd is having problems. he tries to blow on his snorkel but his ass is getting in the way, his farts go into the tube so he's left coughing and unable to breathe underwater.

Aaron: bro, it's all chill, just look and listen at me. do the hang-loose sign in your mind. you need to suck that pipe like it were your own dick. go on, lower your shorts, loosen the strings, and actually suck your dick. you're sucking your ass, you're talking out your ass, you need to swim with your ass out.

Judd: no, fuck this. i don't want to do this anymore. i cancel vacation, is it possible to get even angrier on vacation?

Aaron ages ten years when next the cast meet up with him for martinis and margaritas at the thatch hut. he explains he's been on a spiritual awakening that took place back at the lobby of his corporate hotel. to Puck, he looks like his long-long father.

Puck hugs Aaron by hitting his back brostyle.

Puck: dad, you gotta tell mom what you did.

Aaron: uh, let's just move on. to the journey, you like my scruffy grey beard? grew it in one day. and aged ten years in one day.

Puck: it looks caring, dad. i'm crying. on the inside so my internal organs are getting wet with rain.

Aaron: when you're riding bikes along the curbed windy molten paths of the volcano, remember that this was never meant to be a road. you're on your own and at your own risk, that is true travel-guiding right there. image in your mind that the bike is something more, more than nuts and bolts, that it can fly, like a reindeer. that's when your tires will achieve max tread. think that you are floating on those raindrops, like wispy clouds, up up up to your dreams. it's slippery when wet but also slippery when dry. it's coming down hard now, like cats and dogs, i literally see cats and dogs.

Puck: yeah those are my exes. lost dogs and cats in the rain...

the rain-soaked avalanche douses the entire Big Island with so much rainwater the gauges break, the coconut geiger-counters' wires bust, and the Big Island squeezes and wrings itself and shrinks into the Small Island.

Puck decides to go it alone and takes an unmarked map path up to the caldera of the volcano. he peeks his spiky head out to see if the crater is steaming or not. when he determines and deems it's safe he takes his bike by the handles and jumps his butt on the seat and metal-pedals and whooshes and rides and gets a running start and jumps over the crater with his 4x4 bike. the bike instantly disintegrates, his hair all falls out, but Puck makes it out of there alive with just third-degree burns all over his body.

Puck: i got my bike-messenger back!!!

MEANWHILE Pedro is in no mood. he stews and locks himself in the hotel bathroom and spends the entire vacation in a Yakult bath.

Pedro: i will engorge with any paste or liquid which has the possibility of curing or healing me. *looking down* is that my snake? this was called Turkish bath in the brochure. harrumph.

Jo excitedly pitons to the top of the volcanic crater and squaws in delight.

Jo: not squealing like all those poor pigs on spitroasts i saw on the way up here pitoned to death and stuck to the side of the mountain on spikes. this is a check in my achievement booklet! this is my first successful climb out of the lower 48. the mountains in England are rubbish, except for that one encircled-flown-over by doves and madmen dives by the cliff full of powdered cocaine.

suddenly the face of the volcano turns around and there's a face there! he has a big stone nose. he introduces himself as Olmec.

Olmec: i am Olmec from Obec, i used to be from Obec but the Dinosaur Comet came and you know, it transplanted me and transported all my raw materials to collect again here in paradise. this is where the fabled Nickelodeon Studios ACTUALLY are, that's always been a mystery, everyone thinks we film in Burbank by that watercolor fountain but that's just a front for the illegal trade racket of pixy stix.

Jo: who whoa whoa! that turn didn't bother me, i won't lose my balance that easily. you are a new life form!

Olmec: no, YOU are the new lifeform. let me make you a deal. i'm tired sitting here in this same spot for ages. study me for science and prosperity, figure out why i sneeze so mightily and violently, hardly---as in hard, not hardly---and move me with a van and crane back to Burbank so i can score. weed, not women. there are no women volcanoes, they were too hot and exploded. in exchange i'll fasttrack you to your college professors and make sure you get that PhD in geology sent to you by mail, like in two days. deal? it's gonna be a lot of intensive work.

Jo: DEAL!!!

Olmec: or no deal. sorry, reflex. and for sacrifice-to-the-gods-sake, woman, get that pickax out of my nostril.

Pam flies off the volcano, and sprouts wings! well, her prototype for the first Zelda glider used by Link first in the combined timeline does anyway. she crashes into a patch of brushy East India medicinal roots.

Pam: WHEEEEE! cliff-diving is like diving off the high tower in the Olympics. everyone is so scared of that high tower and would rather be cool and play it safe and flip 500 times with the safe spongy bendy light-green springboard, like two cholos on a springboard philosophizing about cum in Cuaron's masterpiece. here in Hawaii i have been inspired to eat more pineapple when it comes to said cum. you can do more stuff when you're not scared! there's no water anywhere so it's freeing! i'm finally feeling my Asian roots!

Mo is getting angry at the table made wth wooden swords on the hotel patio, even tho he is a ghost. vacation fatigue is affecting everyone.

Mo: what's the matter? don't you like the silver platter i laid out to serve you? with all the delicatessen delicacies and stews from my native homeland.

Judd: from Hell? that laid is played out, playa.

Mo: what's the matter? you don't like black food?

Cory: baby it's just......well, all the food is burned and burnt.

Mo: that's it. i'm outie 3000.

Mo storms out into the other room, a room completely outside. plus he's dead. but the stewing doesn't last for long. after the commercial, it CAN'T last for long, everyone has to take one last helicopter ride over the steaming caldera for some reason. last being the operative word.

Bunim: good luck, guys. operation went swimmingly. my back surgery was a success as well. you go on tour of the island now. a tour of the volcano hole. this is for those new postcard calendars for Maui Snake Park issuing out next year at the Chamber of Commerce. MTV does NOT take a cut, lawyers. need to have the whole cast of the show in the picture for the post so let's switch with the stunt doubles.

Puck shakes Aaron's both hands and kisses his both lips on the mouth.

Puck: it was a pleasure to meet you again, dad. we share so much more than Viking blood. we share desire of the impossible. to achieve what others scoff at. you drive those people well and safely. i'll stay on the ground here in case i become the lone survivor member of the family. i mean our family, not my roommates.

the helicopter slowly climbs up, inches up in the sky, the rotor whirlbirdying to their final destination. on the trip contours itinerary brochure pamphlet that is. the helicopter with that one singular noticeable black stripe flies over the volcano circle and into the ball of steam. it instantly disintegrates. the entire crew of Real World San Francisco is lost.

Mo could have helped. he stands there by the helicopter in the sky but doesn't lift a blue finger, he was still so mad from before. he regrets this, feels bad about it afterwards and cries. more hard rain falls on Hawaii.

Bunim is shocked in the control room with a gaping mouth and crunches the numbers of the revised budget in her head.

Olmec: ahhh, gulp, yummy, that was good, thank you, haven't eaten in ages.

later, or before, or perhaps concurrently, this volcano, Olmec, is befallen with many flakes of snow. until Olmec's face is completely covered up, his enormous eyelids glaze over, his mouth stays frozen open in shock and horror, he will never suck on an ice pop again, and the mountain is now ready for the Aspen snow season. skiers from around the world are here, and global gentlemen carrying hot cups of cocoa in their mittened pockets, and all other those who couldn't get the Aspen ticket flock to Hawaii for the summer break without their glocks. this includes one contingent of crones who use the cranked-out tram of the zipline line converted into a skilift to get to the top of the mountain.

Gladyce: you look so cute in your ski-bunny outfit, dear! those zigzags are adorable and to die for. i LOVE your Indigo plaid winter shawl!

Doryce: don't say die when it's a double diamond. it's actually a summer shawl, i'm a rebel. thanks. you, too, love accessorizing as we're matching. the trick is to insert your mittens in your vagina to keep the warmest. and keep them the warmest. suck on your green scarf for hops and jumps and prayers and luck and betterment with nature. and for practice before you suck for real.

Gladyce: oh deary, i brought my skis with me but i bet you can't find them! *she shimmies her hips* guess where they are!

Doryce: you naughty girl! Jonny! finally a young strapping lad in army boots. i always wanted to fall for a blackjacket backpacker biker badboy named Jonny! teach us your wares, darling.

Jonny Moseley: well i've just flown back from my first Olympic Gold medal from those Games where moguls were still an experimental contest so much so they didn't exist or have them. and boy are my arms tired……...but seriously, folks, my knees are tired.

Gladyce: handed to you at the three-uneven-cardboard-box ceremony by Olmec no doubt.

Jonny: the moguls are named after me, Moseley. not named after our current mogul President. i grew up in Squaw Valley, Indian country, when Manhattan Beach was still frozen over.

Doryce: is it true what they say, dear? btw i love your Justin Bieber haircut. the moguls hurt your knees when you go down that hill. all the jerky up-and-down movements and motion not in the service of butt sex.

Nadal: believe the hype. i went down ONE mogul mountain and my tennis career is ruined.

Moseley: they say it's a myth. but it happened to me. my knees got shot. thank god i have the one Gold Medal to fall back on. i can do tv and coast the rest of my life. my knees got so bad i couldn't do blowjobs anymore. i mean get blowjobs, all of us at the Olympic Village are very convivial and communal with each other, it's a friendly atmosphere, not competitive at all, we're all lucky to be there. and none of us have jobs.

Doryce: i was cheering for you. Jonny, did you see me flopping those soggy fishsticks in the stands? yeah, the last of my fishsticks went limp, they taste disgusting when they're not crunchy, when they're dry and callousy out of the microwave. irradiated beyond any recognizable form. i was still so desperate to have any sort of fish i smushed all the fishsticks into a ball, smashed it down with my magic palm, and turned it into a paste of tuna fish, had my first tuna-fish sandwich since i was a baby---that was a LONG time ago.

Jonny: let's celebrate where everyone in America is legally-required to celebrate now: McDonald's!!! it's the new Draft. and i'm not talking about draft drinks.

they arrive with Jonny on her arm at the Rock N Roll McDonald's in Chicago and Gladyce quietly orders a rare batch of Onion Nuggets. R Kelly is sitting in the booth in the corner, the Red Circle table inhabited by Jada Pinkett-Smith.

Avenatti: *on twitter* whoa buddy.

R Kelly: it's cool, man, it's not the Rock N Roll McDonald's. Chicagoland. they tore down the FryGuy playpen in the back years ago a long time ago. let me eat in peace, i'm innocent.

Jada: how could you do me like that, Robert? you disparage my Red Circle with your unclean hands leaving spots on my table. i thought you could fly. we all looked up to you. Space Jam is a kid's movie, man!!! we're all going on a field trip to Wakanda and you are not invited!

Jussie: for the record, President Bump says i'm too dumb. that clears me, i'm innocent, i didn't even know 45 existed. in the clear. the check clears. and if Empire uses this storyline in a future script, i want royalties. what kind of straight man kisses a green parrot?

President Bump and Kim walk hand-in-hand down the Red Carpet in Hanoi.

Bump: i lost my Oscars invite in the mail, but this red carpet is WAY better.

Kim: do you mind if we don't take the elevator? my fat short stocky ass needs to take the stairs. i know you're feeling down, my friend, maybe a new haircut will cheer you up? get a cool haircut like me. and also maybe a less-Mickey Mouse signature, harder to forge.

Bump: i don't want to be another Clinton. Bill Clinton that is. i don't want to be the first President who goes to jail after.

Bump accosts a local Vietnamese barber sucking on a pond platoon reed who cuts his hair. he shaves off all of Bump's golden locks. takes a long time to grow back.

Bump: *watching his twitter-feed live streaming video* thank you, i feel freer. open the flood Gaetz on that hearing!!!

AOC: *at the Hearing* no, please don't!!! that guy is creepy. i forward the rest of my time. *turns off mic*

Bump: so Kim, you know the deal, right? do i have to recite it to you again?

Kim: right, no, i got it. deal.

Bump: i officially end the Vietnam War. the Vietnam War officially never happened. then all those numbnuts at CNN will stop haranguing me over my bone spurs.

Eye Luggage: and...……………………………….Oscars recap go.

Dirg: it was all done by foreigners. the entire ceremony was in Spanish. later, i thought i was watching the BAFTAs.

Ted Sarandos: no relation to that lady with the big jugs, Susan. this did not turn out as planned. as Netflix CEO, i will now be forced to go on The Simpsons again to recoup the funds we spent on our presidential-sized campaign for Cuaron's indie masterpiece.

Laertus: Green Book should be called Whitewashed Book. they did it all wrong. i really feel bad for Spike and Glenn, they won't get another chance at this. Cuaron got WAY too many. they should have given Spike Lee the Director award, Roma the Best Picture, and Glenn Close the Best Actress as Lifetime Achievements. the first time a Best Picture would be completely in a foreign language, in Spanish, that would pave the way for getting rid of the Foreign Language category and combining it folding it all into one race. they missed their opportunity for all lifetimes and ruined at least three lives. those three actions would have righted a lot of past long wrongs, it would be reparations.

Glenn Close: i'm not mad. i won all the junior awards but not the big one but i ain't mad. come to my party later tonight, i'm holding a potluck, using my new boiler i bought. we're having hasenpfeffer. come early while it's still juicy and tender.

Dirg: all of the awardees, they ALL have mothers who are 94 years old. and they ALL have small children who are way past their bedtime and shouldn't be watching their parents in a compromising position to pay the bills. all the envelopes are always folded. i really want to wear Melissa McCarthy's pussies. Sean "Spicey" Spicer on the EXTRA mic being extra.

Lady Gaga and Madonna sit on a cloud of tuffet feathers for their joint photoshoot of friendship.

Madonna: is this goose? since we've buried the hatchet i'll use it to swipe dinner for us. cotton candy? my gold teeth can't take it. you are reductive.

Gaga: i know, my pussy has swollen shut to a little pea button i am so nervous being around you. i'm sorry, but every generation needs its Madonna. Jesus had His Madonna and didn't want to share His mommy with anybody. i'm the Millennial Madonna. just like John Mulaney is the Millennial Seinfeld and President Bump is the Millennial Obama.

Bump: not the Michelle Obama.

Ben Affleck: i feel better but i'll be giving up Batman. because of John Mulaney.

after their sultry performance, Gaga and Bradley Cooper lock eyes and look into each other's meeting eyes and mouth the words to each other, "i wish this kind of chemistry was taught in our respective high schools. instead of gym class."

Gaga: see this smile? i brushed my teeth for you. so, DTF?

Bradley Cooper has flown the coop.

Gaga: that's why i broke up with my previous man. some mook on the street told me to get a room so i did. now i'm in said room alone, i rented out the bridal suite. you know how embarrassing it is to order flowers for yourself? Diane Warren is writing the song as i speak. i thought you said she was just your girlfriend. Brad?

Diane: *on the phone* it's Diane, honey. that Shallow performance...

Gaga: you thought my performance was shallow? is this Jen? I write this one, Diane!

Eye: the Oscars are an institution which will never die! like SNL! i didn't notice the no-host after the first commercial break. that's-a what they gon do from now on moving forward: no host ever again.

Kevin Hart at the Blue Circle: see? if i had hosted, it would be gossip for one day. i'm more famous for having NOT hosted. the principle of negative space.

Eye: that was really cruel when they turned the camera on Emily Blunt in the audience seats as Bette Midler was singing Emily's song on stage. Em's eyes were blue from crying, not cos they're blue. thanks for listening, folks, and as Michael Cohen would say, have a good night.

Dirg: i would have smoked a blunt on those cush fluffy seats myself put in the same situation.

Doryce: excuse me, Brian May, it seems you have lost your ticket to the Governor's Ball. Guvna! right? i can conjure up another ticket for you with a snap of the fingers, i'm a real queen. it becomes merely misplaced IF you invite me to the Ball and i get all that free food. i have an appetite like that weird Australian hunk with the accent from Green Book. did you enjoy the show? my wife and i's favorite part was the menstruation.

Brian May: fraid not, miss.

Doryce: don't you honeyfuggle me, mister. you want to keep your hair like that? i can make that happen, too. it never rains in Southern Caifornia. all fritz and poofy. it's just dawned on me now you look like Sideshow Bob, a known murderer.

Brian May: Bob Mueller? can he help out with Brexit? sorry, may he.

Jo returns back from Hawaii to her Mount Rushmore thatch hut as Lincoln's nosehairs and a Tahoe green visor on her small square head with a lot of homework on her not-so-broad shoulders. she works feverishly night and day, without a nightlight, with a chewed-up pencil in her mouth crunching the numbers on her abacus.

Jo: all i ask is i come home from school and have a hot-cooked meal on the table waiting for me. come on, Steve, help a sista out, we're partners. geology is hard!

Steve: *with a stoned rubbery face* I WANT MORE

Jo: what?


Cory crashes through the window, dons the white curtain for her cape, picks up Steve with one herculean fist, and tosses the man and his limp fishdick like a soggy ragdoll into the other window, crashing into a million little pieces of glass all strewn bloody on the outside hanging patio. Steve's rubber mask comes off, he was Jo's ex-husband the whole time. Cory beats her chest Tarzan-style.

Cory: god i feel so empowered! like a woman!

ex-husband: i'm gonna get back at you, Jo, you'll see! you were always so standoffish and oafish for this relationship, for me. i made the bed every night in anticipation of you coming home and we'd lie in bed together all snug and comfy and warm and watch my favorite film, Oliver Twist. for the M Night TWEEST. Oliver is the true-life story of my childhood growing up, but you said you never had the time, you got all twisted up in knots making excuses not to be with us for movie night. now i'm bloodied and all cut up and near-death. don't cut up this isn't funny! but i will convalesce in a basement and recover, and i'm gonna get my pounding. not from a woman, my pound of flesh. i'm gonna become an incel!

Cory and Jo: what is incel? a type of nightlight?

ex-husband: i'm not exactly sure yet, i just made it up now. but i'll set up the unknown parameters. once i get my computer it's off to the races! my bully's name was Chad and i like Stacy more than Stacy's mom, there i said it. Jo stands for jack-off instead of proper sex.

Cory: bro what are you doing with your life? at least become a film major like everyone else before you fail at life. you know how fat bald short guys with a gut and without mustaches get the ladies? they join a rock band, they play the rock guitar. practice. and eventually join a band called The Wolf Who.

the ex-husband straggles off to a mount and crawls away. to climb a set of rocks and begin his rock rehabilitation.

Cory: wow. i feel like a woman doing that, too.

at the Empower America By Pulling The Plug conference---the Empower America conference for Democrats---Rachel is intently listening in a blue dress while Judd scoffs the whole time, plugging his nose with a clothespin as Jack Kemp speaks, a former football player.

Judd: football isn't tough, Batman is tough. you see those shoulders on Frank Miller's Batman? Batman's built like a linebacker.

the two walk out in separately-justified huffs. they stroll up the Crookedest Street.

Judd: Jack Kemp's for the Green New Deal? jesus, you think you know a guy. fuck your beliefs, Rachel.

Rachel: i wish you'd treat me like you treat my beliefs. once in a while, my dry vagina's still college-aged you know.

Judd: *walking fast* how can you girls and pansies be so stupid? fossil fuels is what fuels America, fossils tell us where we came from, look at the Grand Canyon! look how blue the skies are! like a Windows 1.0 screenshot. how can you believe in science? it's science, not faith. why? it's boring like the Oscars. and you're for civil unions? you guys love to tear down our institutions. like marriage and the Supreme Court and National Steel. btw, you attending that marriage of Rachel and Puck?

Rachel: uh, yeah, i'll be there. i hear through the Inverness mist grapevine that Pedro is wanting to crash our ceremony with his Sean civil union. lock the doors to the House when we get back.

Judd: that man is relentless. Pedro swallowed his housekey in front of me like a frisky housecat and claimed he could open the House door with just the keyblade sticking out of his asshole.

Monday, February 25, 2019


i'll have what Spike Lee is press conferences…sipping tea...

1. what are your romantic needs? to have game like Rami Malek. THAT's how you go on a first date with a woman, that was their first date, right? you know Rami is a name which means Romance, it's in the name. i've always wanted to have eyes that others called dreamy...instead of calling my eyes blasted out of their gourds, stoned to high heaven, or weird and shifting. when i do the Rami Malek stare in auditions, they tell me i'm the perfect casting choice to play a robot…

2. what are your sexual needs? i can only achieve orgasm when i'm doing it on a roof.

3. do you agree that marriage was a pragmatic institution and in today's society traditional  marriage is not a need but merely a want?

i still maintain that the best most stable relationship between two people is friends with benefits. back in the day, people were sold as other people's property. that still goes on today. in lighter news, the NFL Combine's starting soon or something, right?...

4. do you find conflict in your romantic relationships exciting? necessary. conflict is what initiates the sex. without conflict, there can be no sex. well no exciting ribald rompy syrupy saucy liquid-y fluid-y sex anyway.

5. during sex are you focused on positions or the quality and connection with your lover? quality and connection, that's all that matters, it is about love after all. in fact, my lover and i don't have sex, instead we push our beds together so they touch at the tip, then we get in separate beds and lie down like a worm until our heads are facing each other. we look at each other staringly for five hours, that's our sex.

BONUS: men, what do you have a hard time talking to your lover(s) about?

am i a man? what is masculine anyway, what does that really mean?

anyway, when it's one lover it's nice n easy. we talk about love. and Clairol. as Mark Twain says, if you don't lie then you don't have to remember. the problem comes in when it's me and lovers, plural. that's when the mess happens, and not just on the sheets.

well, when i'm talking to lovers, the conversation usually stems from the fact that i have lovers...


Friday, February 22, 2019



* Frieza (or is it Frost?) is saying WE'RE NUMBER ONE. this species of rare alien only have middle fingers for fingers, it's not their fault, Gaga made them this way.

* Frost: i made it snow on Jerry O'Connell.
Jerry O'Connell: honey, can i stop calling you Rebecca Romijn-Stamos now? it's hurtful.
Rebecca: reconciliation, there must always be a chance.

* you have NO idea the pains it took me to discover this commercial. i remembered it but forgot the impossible-to-remember name. Daenerys was easier to remember. shouldn't there be a mnemonic for EVERY word? i knew it started with A, so this was a Sesame Street case, right? so i looked under "drugs" on Wikipedia under A. my counselor checked in and thought i had a problem. i did, i was on a mission of love, to save my addiction to words. well guess what? i checked back and AFREZZA wasn't even on the list! i wouldn't have seen it anyway even if i checked the lists forever. so it was all in vain moot! my soul search was simply not meant to be.

* i had to wait to see the commercial again, and of course it never came. i changed up, i took bathroom breaks DURING shows now instead of at the commercials. every single DAMN commercial i memorized by this time i saw. not AFREZZA. a month later i happened to spot it on the way to mow the naked neighbor's lawn. i thought i was dreaming. but no, my neighbor was still naked.

* i want to refrain from talking about diabetes, that scares me. yeah i just don't want to come near that hot stove, put my hand on that third rail. with all the Coke i've drunk throughout my life...

* Mario: some mook threw a purple frisbee my way.
Mario's wife: maybe it's from Prince.
Mario: no, it's from King Koopa. a lot of gold potatoes.
Mario's wife: you like gold coins, don't you? that's how you pay off your whores.
Mario: hey i told yous, that was Luigi playing a prank on me.
Mario's wife: what's with the cute little brush? you're a painter not a plumber, my mother was right about you!
Mario: no that's so i can delicately brush off the area on my arm where i inject the needle.
Mario's wife: you're so finicky. don't you regularly get in fights with dirty plants and crawling sidescrolling bugs? whatcha reading?
Mario: the first issue of Nintendo Power magazine in book form. no pictures. hey, are you Princess Peach?
Mario's wife: nope.
Mario: then what was the point?

* Mario: doc, i was always so embarrassed. i always needed to find a safe space to inject. and had to buy an airport sandwich.
Dr Mario: stop insulting me with your insulin. it's okay, Mario, now you can be a huffer.
Mario: so uh doc, what exactly does this do?
Dr Mario: it FREEZES the inside of your throat and tongue so it's blocked from anything entering.
Mario: but i'm not trying to lose weight.
Dr Mario: coulda fooled me. the r in my name is for the Prescription Drug R with the cross through it.

*  Mario tries it and immediately has a spasm attack.
Dr Mario: use your nose! use your big nose!

* man: honey, a hamburger just fell from the sky on a parachute. it broke your phone, no selfie.
wife: you think you married an idiot? i TOLD you to cut your friends when we got hitched, Wimpy is a bad influence on you.
man: this is how China will invade America, they know us better than we know ourselves.

* woman 1: omg that is so cute adorable! a hot dog carrying a stand of a pile of hot dogs!
woman 2: not really. child labor laws. animals used as slave labor is abhorrent. what is that dog? a fucking reindeer on a circus leash pulling a circus sleigh for human spectacle?
woman 1: i thought you liked hot dogs.
woman 2: sure, but these are too many hot dogs, if you eat that pile you'll die. this is a commercial for cholesterol medication, right? we're just friends, right?
woman 1: yes, you made that abundantly clear this morning.

* yogess: right, blame the yoga chick. yeah, sure, only the yoga chick will eat the dry salad cos she's a health nut and not right in the head.
tree: that isn't a salad, it's my thumb. i'm extending my arm out to you. in friendship. but you are crazy. those aren't your hands you have clasped together in a pose over your head, those are your feet...

* first-dater woman: look at the trick i can do! *rolls out and spreads picnic blanket with all the food popping in*
first-dater man; oh, i thought it would be a trick with your tongue. i don't like food, food is why i'm online. instead of outside.
first-dater woman: it looks outside, that's all that matters. is it VR if you don't know it's VR?
man eats all the food in the spead on the blanket. and has a smoke which catches the blanket on fire.
first-dater woman: you owe me 1000 dollars. there is no such thing as a free lunch. that food cost pixels. didn't you hear the Pac-Man sound?

* fisherman: this only happens in my dreams: i go fishing for the first time, first time since my dad died cos he never took me fishing, and i catch a Filet-o-Fish in its original wrapper on my hook.
sandwich inside blue bubble: you are sleepy, i mean you are hungry you haven't eaten me yet to be sleepy. i am the sandwich of your dreams. but in order to remove this blue forcefield around me, you must perform an impossible task.
fisherman: what. i'll do anything. i even wore this bucket hat with a feather in it which represents my father. my father feather. and i blew bubbles in the dirty water of this bog.
sandwich: you must be pregnant or breast-feeding…

* man in purple T shirt: hey, you work for Benihana?
chef: that's racist. just cos i have a big square cutting knife and hibachi hat? who are you, Prince without the mustache?
purple T shirt: yes. and not just cos we're by a lake. next time i'll take the stairs. orange breadsticks?
chef: yes. i'm not even a chef. these are poorly-prepared churros, okay?

* Mario: can we get some dessert?
lesbians: typical man, never satisfied. fuck you. no chocolate soup for you.

* Robert Kraft ambles his way on set.
Robert Kraft: i need some medicine.
director: too much cholesterol? cut down on the cheese.
Robert Kraft: no, i've had too much excitement these past few weeks. i'm an old man, i can't take it. my chest hurts. from getting stomped on. i need to relax my muscles. i need a massage. is there a parlor near here?...… i really am looking for JUST a massage!



happy weekend, my babies

prediction: Cuaron's Roma, right? Netflix certainly paid enough for it.

WAY EARLY prediction: Biden won't run, Klobuchar will get the Nomination.

Wednesday, February 20, 2019


Jo slings her ax over her back.

Jo: wish i could sling my ex over my back and have him gone for good in the rearview of my life forever. but i gotta continuously go to court.

Puck walking, behind Bunim walking: no more court.

the ax is twice the size of the diminutive girl and yet it appears Jo is twice the size of it the way and manner the girl handles her piece.

 Cory and Rachel: *hiking and sweating* which green mountain is it?

Jo: *sipping Green Mountain Coffee* oh just aways over there. see it? it's my side-hustle. Glencoe.

Alex Escarno: Glen Coco?

Jo: thank you, Alex, for carrying the hot cocoas for all of us while we climb. it must be tricky balancing the mugs whilst you hold onto your piton.

Alex: oh it's just like when i was a kid in Catholic Cuba, i was a streetkid who had to make ends meet so i joined the circus of course. i liked to balance impossible things on a spinning stick. sometimes that stick was my dick. but it could be a piton, too.

Jo: feel ya, mate, i shuffle a lot of balls in my life as well. i go to school while i work. and i climb mostly, i like bigass boulders, i climb a shitton all the time. okay, gang, i want to see your butts! i'll be behind inspecting all your arse muscles making sure they're moving as you put one foot in front of the other like you have to with life and slowly ascend---no indoor mountains here, this is the real deal, the real thing---going through each crag and jumping over each waterfall, like the song.

Alex: that's the IN song now. Left Eye for life.

Bunim: so Jo, funny you talked about Mount Rushmore, we talked about it in our production meeting. some not naming any names wanted a Rushmore Rush Mush---or Mush Rushmore or Mushmore--- using mush dogs but i said no pets. sorry you had to redirect your plans but the whole illegal thing, you know? but i put in a call, a call was placed, to George Bush and Georgey has agreed to let us film at Mount Rushmore! yeah i'm thinking of having the next season of Real World be on Mount Rushmore!

Jo: really? that's wonderful news. i got a secret flat overhanging there. what changed Bush's mind?

Bunim: oh i happened to call him JUST as he was tearfully watching an anti-drug PSA 30-minute cartoon he intro'd.

Jo: come on, gang, a few clicks more! push yourselves past your limit! *stomp stomp pick*

the group reach Mount Rushmore in a bug. all catch bugs and are sneezing profusely. they try to stop the bleeding brown mucus by sticking Tootsie pops with Bill Murray on the spooled cover up their noses. underneath Lincoln's nose is Jo's timeshare, a quaint cottage of a house that is upside down acting as Lincoln's nose-hair mucus. wild sprouts and shrubs and wheat stalks encircle the area. upon entering the house the cast and crew see it is nice and cozy and hygge with an upside-down chimney flue spewing black smoke and a general sense of comfort and pre-911 security besides being upside down with the green windows always open letting in the windy draft of presidential sneezes. there is one huge beige bed in the middle and the walls are all carpeted for soundproofness since this is of course a sound studio which has never been used.

Jo: well if this doesn't prove the Earth is flat i don't know what will! i'm a geology student. yeah i was thinking of using the home studio for something i'm inventing called a podcast but i've been too busy.

everyone settles in as Alex slips out to do some more personal exploring on his own. he eases into it, very carefully, scaling, pulley-systeming it to exact toe-points and locations, as his steeltoe boots chip off ever so slightly little pieces and crumbs of Lincoln's stone nose. then SUDDENLY he loses his footing and slips off the face of the disc of the world!

Alex is never heard from again. at least for these next two episodes...

Bunim: where's Alex?

Judd: prolly went off to pee off the side of the world like i did. i hope i caught a midget's mouth. what do you want, bitch?

Rachel is sprawled out naked on the tiger skin rug near the fireplace.

Rachel: draw me like one of your real-American girls.

Judd: *begins sketching* only if that's REAL tiger blood on that carpet stain.

Cory climbs up the steps with her new-forming friend Jo. she accompanies her for moral support as Jo is ordered to honor a subpoena issued by her ex-husband who wants to challenge the restraining order Jo placed on him. Cory holds Jo's back through the whole proceeding, behind her out of camera view.

Cory: this is the first time i've ever sat in any sort of pew before, i like the feeling.

Judge Berman at her tower: move it along, people, move it along, people vs. who, next case. no subpoena jokes, i've heard them all. Roger Stone, what the fuck were you thinking? you glorified camerahog and B-rate Batman villain. see this bedazzled silver glove i wear? this gives me authority, i don't even need a gavel.

Roger Stone: not as sharp as what i have on. pinstripes. if it pleases the court, you have some nice pouches, your honor. i will pull my punches for this grave proceeding. what's the big deal? did you see the picture i used of you on Instagram, Judge Woman? it was a very flattering pic of you, you should see some of the filth on Instagram. yes that was a crosshairs, you're for gun rights, right, b? i mean b as in Berman.

Judge Berman: you have sullied the air of this courtroom by breathing in it. your immoral support has dishonored your sub-penis. you can only go on MSNBC from now on. next case.

Roger Stone: fine. i won't crack. want some crack? you fine woman? retrial maybe? Sully wasn't a hero anyway. Nixon was.

Jo's ex-husband arrives and stands on the plaintiff stand, he is shackled and shackles himself to the podium.

Judge Berman: sir you're representing yourself cos you say your ex-wife took all your money. i am sympathetic and not automatically anti-MRA but you don't have many rights being a convicted felon.

Cory: *nudges and punches Jo's back* be strong, girl, you got this, you can get through this.

Judge Berman: after hearing both side arguments and side hustles i've come to my conclusive version of my verdict: the restraining order is hereby upheld. only in Lake Tahoe. that's where y'all going, right?

Jo: *meekly with her head down* yes 'am. thank you, Your Honor. Her Honor. he was a fuckload for me but now that load is off my back so i can put a pack on my back.

Judge Berman: just need Rachel Maddow to go over the documents to parse out anything i missed and...…...*banging her gavel* HEAR YE HEAR YE. i hereby. that's it, throw the book at and close the book. the appeal is overturned. in my usual appealing way. my customary cute way. one last thing before McDonald's breakfast: i need to see the drawings that were made of these proceedings to document them and their outcome. will the courtroom sketch artist please stand up and submit her work?

Judd: it's me. here you go, hear ye.

Judge Berman: *flipping* this is a paper of a crayon drawing of a cartoon character with a big head, no hair, and no boobs. stick figure with four lines for limbs. and a triangle in the middle, is that her skirt?

Judd: her vagina, sir.

Rachel: *redfaced and incensed* what a horrible depiction! i am so mad. i am shocked SHOCKED. and i am shook. i am so gutted i will not be drinking my Yakult gut milk tonight! you said you won an Annie and an Eisner and a Michael Eisner! i thought you were gonna paint me French! i have long luxurious flowing hair! not to mention my tits, which i keep hidden in a modest pink fuzzy university sweater for just the right moment for only the best guys to peek!

Judd: at the peak? hey i'm a cartoonist whaddaya want from me!? it'll look better when it gets colored. but i'm not an inker. jesus………*within earshot* got bitches comin' outta my dick's ears. cartoon cunts on my cock.

Rachel: there goes the affair! *whispering in court* unless you promise to use that language on the carpet. jesus, i thought you were a real rightwing artist.

Judd: there is only one Frank Miller. we call him the batwing.

Rachel: *loud* sigh, i need another tattoo to get over this humiliation.

Eye Luggage: okay, joining us at the podcast today is not Marc Maron but rather Jussie Smollett.

Dirg: see? see? this is what i mean.

Eye Luggage: AFTER his successful surprise hosting of the Oscars. how was it, Jussie?

at the Oscars, the opening number is scrapped at the last minute and Jussie Smollett comes out from behind the blue carpet to address Hollywood and the world. there is a loud hush in the room.

Jussie: see? when i first told my story, it WAS believable in these times. THAT is the only point. sure, i was acting out, a scene i wrote i thought was good but the producers rejected it. but that's not the point. violence against the other is alive and well in the street of this society, and it's all too real. what can i say? i like magazines, not maga. Hollywood is rife with piles of cocaine everywhere on every craft-services table instead of food, it's an epidemic worse than opioids. Ace is the place where i turned my software into hardware. Empire's costume department needed hats, their stage department needed pullies, theirs were fraying. this was Chicago but this will NEVER be SNL. this is REAL, this is AMERICA, and this is no sketch. and with that, i bid all you fine folk adieu. and good night, i won't be validating or valeting your parking tonight, i gotta get up early. apparently i still have an early call to the set tomorrow, so...

the whole world cheers and applauds.

Eye: and i've just come across a paper which has been flung on my desk right now this very minute, urgent breaking news. it reads that...the Bump Administration is setting up a space force which will systematically go through each country eliminating homosexuality from the face of the Earth like the scourge it is, spokesman Steve Ganon says, that's the REAL class struggle? the struggle for class?

President Bump: no no that's not right. you read that too fast, assuming. see? see? this is what i mean.

Laertus: and in closing to close, let's take a minute summons with this podcast to wish a fond farewell and angel delivery to one of the good ones, a bright spark of creative spirit on that comedy stage gone too soon: Kevin Barnett. the genius behind Rel. fresh voice. i was waiting for Rel to do a tribute to him in its next episode but the series ended before this tragedy happened.

Kevin Barnett sits at the Red Circle table, stunned into stony silence. and blue. a blue hologram.

Dirg: that's the basketball Celtics guy with the Bezos hair, right?

Laertus: i can hear all of Kev's many jokes in my ear now, and all the audience laughter. he was an up-and-comer, as we all are.

Dirg: now that show DEFINITELY won't get a second season. Sinbad is once again out of work.

Eye: guys, gotta close up shop early, i need to take this, my beeper's blowin' up. getting many texts, a scroll wall, from Michelle Carter...

Osaka holds her first press conference since becoming #1. it is and goes awkward.

Osaka: hello. people don't get my sense of humor......oh, and i didn't fire my coach once i became #1. not a diva move. see i'm painfully shy and NEVER talk, my coach thought i didn't like him and he jumped out of our hotel window. don't worry, there was no glass in the window he's fine, he just left, never to be seen nor heard from again. my new coach is Anthony Davis.

at FBI Headquarters:

Mulder: Andy!

McCabe: Irishmen are the best. the best workers.

Comey: it's all very simple. the country is divided up evenly between those that call you Andrew and those that call you Andy.

McCabe: thanks...Jim, nyuk nyuk. i love being in the FBI, all you have to do is get on tv and say i'd rather not say, i want to respect the integrity of the process of the investigation going forward and not get into the details, or no comment. it's easy! just like Inspector Mueller does, right Inspector Mueller? my wife is running for President in 2020, why not, right? she'll run for the same reason Bump ran, but in reverse. it's Rod RosenSTEEN as in FrankenSTEEN, right?

Scully: the flatfoots and the rank and file and general public at large don't get to see your sense of humor like we do, Andy. we are so grateful that you let us in to experience your funny, you undo your tie with us and around us in secret coffee rooms. now that's what i call FBI witnesses!

Comey: you are so lucky, Ashley! you had a baby at just the right time! you can block out all of this noise and pretend America is normal again in the room of your tyke's crib.

Ashley Parker: not really. i left just as the Report will be coming out. i see all the tv reporters rushily getting ready, putting on their blackest dress. and me with this basketball in my belly. i play peek-a-boo hide-and-seek with a basketball with my kid.

Comey: as long as you're not feeding it lettuce, i have the real romaine case file on that and it's not a pretty picture like you, Ashley, it's a horror show you don't want to know. sir! you have entered the room. are you ready for your big day next week?

Mueller: nah. our longstanding AG Matt Whitaker told me he wouldn't release it even if i wrote a big 5000-page tome, so why bother? i'm keeping my hands clean and without bruises and scrapes and callouses and New York nicks and holepunch-punctures for when i throw out the first Nationals pitch! no one can accuse me of being a bleeding liberal when i haven't bled. with all the money i got from hawking that hand-cream on tv, i'm set for life! yeah that was something. i had never been in Whitaker's office before. the meeting consisted of the two of us sitting side by side on Victorian velvet chairs and staring silently at the crackling fire in the fireplace for two hours...

Avenatti: *hangdog eyes, which are still pretty and blue* sir, can i please rejoin the team? i beg you, i've learned my lesson, i won't run and divide the Schultz electorate. i can't do this anymore. i can't do pee cases again. i'd rather do President Bump's pee case, not R Kelly's.

Mueller: no. and that is my final answer. my final Jeopardy! All Stars answer, which i was a contestant on recently.

Avenatti: come on, papa! puh-leezzze!??? let me do the Jussie case! i have to have an in back to the Red Circle table to build my street-cred up again with my audience when i run again. either side i argue for i win.

Mueller: where is Matt anyway?

Matt Whitaker is roaming the backwoods of the FBI Facility in Quantico, Virginia. searching for grenades. he scratches his bald head in the twilight sun.

Bump: Matt? what are you doing out here? we out here.

Matt: don't make a move, sir, you might crunch the leaves. you smell that?

Bump: from afar you looked like Bigfoot.

Matt: i am. i'm the Missing Link. you smell that? it's the timestreams coming together. you don't feel that?

Bump: okay, before you disappear, give me all your stash of Bigfoot porn, i can use that, distribute that out, farm that stuff out to the other races.

Comey: Bob sir, you have the fattest goldmine in your hand. think about it, the Report will never be released, it will become the biggest X-File of all time, the Ultimate X-File!!!

Dirg: i mean the Report the Report the Report, that's all we hear about.

Laertus: it's not so much an X-File as a Project Blue Book episode, for it is the truth, a real case.

at the Obec Women's Club, purple tile roof:

Doryce: where are all the men? i thought this was a women's club! just a bunch of old bags i see!

Gladyce: well yes, dear, this is a safe space for all the biddies from area art schools and retired professors and waitresses to hang out, hang loose, undo their dresses, and not have to worry about acting polite prim and proper in front of men. a community organization for the betterment of all women in solidarity. the mayor's wife and dames of high society playing bingo and broadly being broads of a past age. playing pinochle and tinkling pee in front of each other.

Doryce: oh hell no, this ain't no sorority, you need to have a fashion show with naked men parading around showing off their latest wares. preferably of the Australian revue persuasion. i mean that's what a women's club is, right!!? what's the point of having that stage that looks like a pier up there if you don't use it. it's getting dusty and looks like it was from the '80s with that holey tile.

Gladyce: it was. used in PBS children's puppet shows.

Doryce: let me see what i can do, let me pull in a few favors and place a few calls from back in the day at witch college...

only one man struts his stuff on that stage. the Gorton's Fisherman. at first the other women think he is a stalker cos he looks weird in that yellow trenchcoat. but Gladyce calms nerves by assuring the rapt crowd of nervous nellies that he is in fact a fisherman in a yellow rainslick who sails on a boat and the whole nine...yards...of rope.

Gladyce: love, come out next time holding your ship's wheel so everyone knows and the audience is softened. and beer-battered. don't fall off the pier, love. oh Doryce, it looks like he hasn't done much of this sort of thing for old ladies.

Doryce: yes, love, but hold onto your pole. your fishing-spear pole thingee you shoot. like a gun. what you got under that yellow trenchcoat, love? show us, take it off, strip it off! like fish strips! and what's with that naughty kinky blue heavy rope tightly wound around your neck? it's very BDSM.

Gorton's Fisherman: it's my rope for catching fish sticks.

Doryce: you know believe it or not i've never actually had fish covered in cocktail sauce before. make a note of that for my next birthday, Gladyce. even fishsticks dipped in red stuff will do. now what's the deal with fish sticks, Mr. Gorton? seriously, i go to The Store this morning and there are NO microwaveable fish sticks! they're all for the greasy oven!!! how can i trust you? i can't have that, i was having a hankering for fish for the first time in like five years, i wasn't craving carving steak. come on, love, you gotta work with me here, you gotta reward me, i was thinking eating healthy.

Gorton's Fisherman: *tries to tip his hat but it slips off wetly* sorry, ma'am, it seems there are no more microwaveable fish sticks on stock. anymore ever. again. just the filets. but they're at Costco 30 minutes away.

Doryce brooms over to Costco and buys the last bag of microwaveable fish sticks in existence ever on Planet Earth again, a bigass bulky bag of 50 fish sticks with a Buddha on the cover, gish sticks. she eats them all in one sitting and spends eternity on the toilet……...until Gladyce learns the spell to break the curse of the bad fishsticks and release her beloved from the pain of an aching sore butt not in the service of butt sex.

Cory: great job in there today, my friend, i'm so proud of you!!! you were a strong mousey moody woman!

Jo: thanks, Cory, but stop hugging me, we English have pale enough skin as it is, you'll rub all the blushing red right off me.

Bunim: so we can still stay here but we can't film here anymore, i didn't get the locale permit. of course we wouldn't film anyway, we don't film anymore.

Steve is making the bed in the centre of the room. he hospital-corners the sheets.

Jo: oh, this is Steve everybody. he's been with me since the beginning, we go way back, since before geology was but a twinkle in my eye. i'm hard on my staff but it's only because i'm hard on myself. we're childhood pals, always strictly platonic. he's the best trailguide in the world, he'll whip you up into shape tomorrow morning, follow him for all your success. he's got a motor that just won't quit. he's always at the top of the mountain before you can drink your first coffee sip. i've watched him with one eye sleepwalk at midnight, roaming around like a silent-film actress, like Lillian Gish, bumping his head into the walls like a wild caged tiger. i've seen him hang from the rafters without him knowing he did it, completely unawares and unconscious of this house's ceiling. i've seen him from that high perch stare at me in bed naked all night. it's creepy but his eyes are closed's even more creepy. i'll sure be glad to get back to thinking about trails again, not trials.

Judd: is your name really Steve? of course it is, of course you're a Steve, Steve.

Cory and Rachel: we love your hair, Steve. curly and looking like Mario with a fro. nice mustache.

Steve: uh, thank you. the girls i talk with online tell me that's a sexy look, to look like Gabe Kaplan, my favorite poker player. at least i think they're girls.

Pedro on the ceiling no one noticing Pedro: talking online?

Rachel rubs Puck's tummy from behind. and his back from in front.

Rachel: how are you feeling, honey? it was brave of you to make the trek with us feeling so under the weather.

Puck: i had a bout of pneumonia. cos it's raining on me all the time whenever i cry. i mean they wanted Whoopi Goldberg to host the Oscars but she was brought down by this same pneumonia. but i'm okay now, i think. perhaps some horseriding will do the trick. i'm well so i'm not gonna wait for the group and i'm gonna horseride on these mountains by myself alone. see ya!

Puck takes the green bit out of the horse's mouth, it was a 100-dollar bill. he gallops fraughtfully and focusedly along the grey mountain of Mount Rushmore. before the horse can neigh and buck up and draw a heavy breath through its mucus-gilded nostrils, the horse and Puck slide off the cheek side of the facing silvery mountain!

BUT they make it! the horse flies in Puck's reinsless hands!

Puck: *softly to himself so no one hears or can hear* SEE! i knew it! i knew there was magic. i knew i had the magic if i trained hard enough for it. it's magic powder and potion and mist, sure, but it's mostly belief.

Friday, February 15, 2019


* Branson: Virgin Airlines? poppycock! what a turkey! if Virgin Cola couldn't sell how could this? you can't even fit turkey inside a picnic basket like you can coke.
focus group: sir you've just eviscerated this entire marketing campaign with those statements. please get off twitter.
British game show host: TURKEY TURKEY TURKEY

* spyess: i want it all. and i want it now.
Jack Bauer on comm: this isn't GrubHub.

* Jack Bauer: this isn't a long advertisement. this is my comeback. i hated being the President. do you have your disguise on as we planned?
spyess: yes, i'm Kim Basinger as far as the American audience knows. you think this is fun? you think this is fun for me?
Jack Bauer: only if you get naked. naked with your feelings i mean. you have to be honest with me if this is gonna work and be successful, don't hide any of your patented knowing smirks from me.

* stewardess: what are you watching on that tv in the back of the seat?
spyess: i think Clue or something. i'm undercover, i'm looking for clues. hey, you got Do The Right Thing?
stewardess: online-only, no inflight. coffee? tea? me?
spyess: i like the little cage it comes in. what's better, Turkish tea or Turkish coffee?
stewardess: the answer is bath.
spyess: England's too showery for me.

* Jack: *with his eyes in the sky* what are you reading?
spyess: the last-ever issue of BLENDER. remember that magnificent music mag?
Jack: learned about Priyanka's nups from it.

* spyess: can i borrow your red hat?
stewardess: not cool. i'd never vote like that.
spyess: no, for disguise and cover. up. are these your drawings?
stewardess: for the aborted Carmen Sandiego game-show reboot.
spyess: *cries*
British game show host: TURKEY TURKEY TURKEY

* spyess: save this notebook! it's special! it's got a red tassel down the middle so it's obviously a bible. a show bible. i wear a patch but i'm not skate-punk. thank you, airport, for reminding me to take my B12 shot, makes me run faster in airports.

* spyess: *running* don't look at my insane ass in jeans while i'm running, passengers on the people-mover, that's rude!!!
stewardess: it is a bible but the tassel's from a strip club...
spyess: thank you, i need a club soda after all that running.

* spyess: *flipping* huh, these are sketches of me in various states of undress. how could she have known what i looked like?
Jack: um, those are my off-duty scribblings. i do a lot of a-la-carte homemade porn in my spare time.
spyess: excuse me, does this yellowcab transform into one of those ships along the marina Bond-style?

* Jack: are you sure that's the mark?
spyess: pretty sure. i see a Turkey flag so...
Jack: you are too pretty for your own good! the pictures you gave me are fuzzy! send better! update your ipad mini! once a month like a good little Jobs devotee! do your job! you're in the wrong commercial, this should be another Apple ad.
spyess: just say MAGNIFY.
Jack: that only works in cartoons!

* spyess: why would the mark telegraph where she's going?
Tattoo driving: she's not telegraphing, she's drawing. welcome to Fantasy Island. no i am not a licensed tattoo artist, i live off your tips. may i take your white luggage?
spyess: Tattoo! you're alive!!!
Tattoo: hey, have you seen my helicopter? i lost it.
spyess: it's right over there.

* spyess: i suppose there's time for a leisurely sip of Turkish coffee. oh come on, this is from Starbucks! and why are the teacups always so small!?
mark gets up from the balcony.
spyess: *whispers to herself* don't mind me, i'm a i'm literally a ghost wrapping myself in this room curtain.
mark sashays and ponytails back her hair.
spyess: when a woman goes to ponytail back her hair, when she goes for the scrunchee, you know it's serious. blowjob time.
Jack: don't blow it.
spyess: wait, why is she getting into a black-and-white police van?...

* spyess: do you understand the language i'm speaking?
driver: no.
spyess calls the mark on the phone.
mark: what.
spyess: i just want to say as a compliment: i LOVE how you draw ducks.

* Hannibal Lecter: um, you're not supposed to see me here, don't tell anyone.
spyess: what are you working on, your first novel?
Hannibal Lecter: this commercial's script. i'm a doctor. a script doctor. punch-up man. i use fava beans to punch myself up. with farts.
spyess: shit.
Hannibal: don't worry, i own that houseboat, she won't get away. looking for someone?
spyess: yeah, what's the deal with all these breadsticks? way too many breadsticks here.
Hannibal: i'm gonna call up my black comedy friend and tell him you stole his joke.

* Hannibal: don't feed the pigeons bread, it's bad for them, scatters them away when they were peaceful on the village-square cobblestone for all to enjoy, performing with Cardi B. and it's a waste of bread.

* spyess spots the new GM electric bike and hops on.
spyess: ARIV. did that name really need a crowdsource?
Jack: i was the only one who funded it.
spyess: it's only cool if it's pronounced A-REEV, not A-RIVE.

* mark sashays elegantly then crashes into the glass she doesn't see.
spyess catches up.
spyess: *rap rap rap on the glass* hello? sorry, i'm late for the Indiana Jones ride.

* spyess: it's hard to breathe in here, i'm thinking too much. please.
mark: what?
spyess: bring back House of Anubis like you promised. you're a tv exec, right?
mark: i'm too expensive to have any lines...
spyess: what do you keep under glass here?
mark: books. it's pointless cos you can't read them when they're under glass.
spyess: snakes. why'd it have to be snakes who have eaten boulders.
mark: no that's my S&M whip.
spyess: what is the Goden Dome really for? a tv signal to broadcast back to aliens who are gearing up to launch an invasion?
mark: we like our Golden State Warriors here in Turkey. there's a certain NBA player we'd like to get our hands on, just waiting till he eventually gets traded after the deadline.

* spyess: hey Jack, like my flamingo glasses?
Jack: i can't see you. why are there 15 teacups of Turkish coffee on your tray?
spyess: i have bladder leakage. hey Jack, ever learn to swim?
Jack: you can't swim? i thought you were trained by an Instagram accountability coach. take a pic of me naked-breastroking at your hotel pool, look below. i will be your guide in all things stealth.
spyess: very funny.
Jack: no, that's an actual stroke, i'm not masturbating.

* spyess: Rambo...he escaped Nam but he didn't really ever escape Nam, you know?

* spyess: what!!?
bellhop: take off those silly glasses. do you want a different room number? i'm an amateur numerologist and i've just found out that all numbers are unlucky.

* Jack: Tokyo is on my ass! this better be the last time. anime is serious!

* spyess: ah,'s like a flat endlessly loops......that's the thing about just......continues...
Jack: okay, now you're having fun.
spyess: got any limeade?
stewardess: fuck you.
Spike Lee, onboard passenger: 400 years.
spyess: since slavery came to America?
Spike Lee: that's how old these saltines are. buncha oldheads.
spyess: peppercorn?
Spike Lee shakes his head.
spyess: Oldboy, playing on the screen now. you should have gotten nominated for that one.


happy weekend, my babies. it was gonna be the Wendy's Peppercorn Burger this weekend but i'm gonna have to scrape off all the mushrooms from the pattie and leave them by the side of my bun wrapper like i'm 5 years old. i walk little old ladies across the street. because i'm scared of the street.

Wednesday, February 13, 2019


Pedro: i don't care anymore! throw me out again see if i care! i need to go home anyway! i'm going to Miami!

Pedro slides down the Inverness canyon natural slide of grass wetted by the mist and Glencoe into a nearby crystal-lake-clear tributary. there it branches out into one larger tributary and then into an unknown green gulf, where Pedro sails on his pristine shiny shapely butt that acts as the most perfect red rudder to guide him to land and safety and coastline. he finally reaches Miami though it's hard to tell where the palm trees start and where the ocean ends.

Pedro: fuck this! what's going on? why is there only water in Miami? where are the Cuban-style roads and outdoor cantinas with bell lights? where's my childhood home of adobe and Grandma's tortilla powder and determination and grit and margarita mix in the face of wintry mix on the edge of the pier?

Jared Goff: *chewing on an avocado pizza* i'm afraid your house has been swept away by the red tide, washed away to sea. there's nothing left, you are a stranger and a wanderer forever the rest of your life. see our Blade Runner movie was surely unrealistic, there won't BE a 2030 much less any further year!!!

Pedro swims his way past boulder and stone like a human gondola cos the city is now just one big successful waterworld. he manages to spot the last splintery piece of wood from his house as a raft and is able to climb Alex Escarno out from drowning by his big manly hairy shoulders and plop him on the raft while Pedro catty-paddles to the side.

Pedro: BRO! i SAVED you! just like i'll save the world! i'd die if you had died! i can't do this without you! especially now, the entire world is against me, but you will always be my childhood friend and defacto uncle and kind of spiritual brother and failed lover.

Alex Escarno: yeah i was never gay. but i love you like if you were my husband. we grew up together on the mean streets of Cuba. then we both closed our eyes, got entered into sugar-potato duffel bags, without baths. and wound up abandoned on a beach in Miami. we thought that was a family vacation, it all looked the same, it's all one country in the end, right? i love you, man, no matter what. for life. till death separates us.

Alex wears a rainbow shirt that is more white stripes than rainbow. he looks like imagine if Pedro were even more handsome and sported a smooth Ted Danson mustache to garland his short trim hair. he is taller and has one more muscle than Pedro, and could pass for Pedro if push ever came to shove for police lineups at court.

Pedro: *shouting over the fierce winds* i was always jelaous of you, Alex. you were better-looking than me, you didn't beat up teachers at school, you were a good Cuban Catholic. the family and my mom loved you best, i never got over that. just know that all those times i punched you in the face i only meant it as a kind of rough foreplay thing. you must follow me, to wherever this ends, however far, i am so close to the potion formula. i've got the right mix in the palm of my fingertip cuticle. you must always be there for me, you are my only friend left on this earth.

Alex: what about Sean? aren't you gonna marry him even though you can't?

Pedro: oh yeah, him.

Alex: i pledge.

Alex hits himself on the forehead with the wooden plank in solidarity as the two friends and comrades paddle their way to the shore which is really an island now. on the way they finish their cold nonheated conversation:

Pedro: *playfully and nudging Alex in the shoulder hard with his blade, his shoulderblade* i'll never forgive you for forcing me to do Real World. that show sucks. what a crisis! such mental-abuse gymnastics and psychological wordplay anguish my body which it doesn't need now. they kicked me out! yeah, they actually kicked me out! that's a first for the show, it's like being the first President to ACTUALLY get impeached!

Alex: hey i didn't force you, that's your style, not mine. you actively petitioned me to do the audition video, you WANTED to be on the show, and wanted me to handheld the camera. you said you'd kick all the other castmates' asses, you wanted to raise your profile---your brand, you called it---to better achieve the ingredients.

Pedro: well tru tru. true enough. but i didn't know how piranha-y reality tv is! lecherous and shameless and LCD. backbiting, i'm all about back-loving, fucking in the butt.

they reach the AIDS clinic shack, the only one for water miles in Miami, a dilapidated hovel ready to turn to dust at any minute. one brown palm tree serves as the canopy instead of a redtile roof. inside, Pam is the nurse-in-charge!

Pam: doctor. doctor. Pedro? Alex? funny you two seeing you what are you two doing here!?

Pedro: i should ask you the same thing! you're a doctor now? how's married life treatin' ya?

Pam: this isn't about me, this is about you and your demise. sure sure, well you know us homeless folk, we just sort of wander from town to town.

Alex: how do you know my name?

Pam: *flipping* so going over your chart, i need to know your name. and your sex. and your location. and your PIN number, what can i do for you today? why'd you come in here today? what for? what condition are you suffering from?

Pedro: Pedro like Cher or Madonna. i like me shoes, mi zapatos. my sex is secret-dungeon. location: the President Residence. um, i have AIDS, remember? i'm here for my monthly T cell count.

Pam: have you been experiencing any unusual stress in your life presently at the moment lately?

Pedro: um, you guys kicked me out of the House!!! REMEMBER!!!?

Pam: want the T shirt this time after the test? it's a novelty, only this office carries it.

Pedro: yeah no fuck the T shirt this is serious. what am i carrying?

Pam: so your T cell count from last time has lowered......but Pedro, remember, don't ever let the numbers dictate how you feel about yourself. remain smiling like when you came in here, no number can tell you how to feel.

Pedro: i already have a psychopath's fake smile so i'm all good, Pammy. well if there is nothing else, vulture adieu...

Pam: surviving relatives?

Pedro: Sean.

Alex: hold on! what about next of kin? sorry, bro, this is morbid, but we need to take care of these things while you're still ticking.

Pedro: i bequeath all of my soul and savings to my husband Sean. let him make my medical decisions for me if i'm incapacitated or otherwise on a breathing machine. Sean and only Sean may pull the plug. and i'll be damned if i have to sip peas through a straw the rest of my life, just end me and let me become a martyr. and i WON'T be damned to Hell for my lifestyle!

Alex: no way, Pedro! not Sean! i don't trust him, he's not one of us, he's a convenient interloper who just descended out of nowhere, found out you like black men, and parachute-jumped into your life. it isn't a black thing. it's a legal thing. i mean marriage is not a thing yet. he's still a stranger, a shadow, an outsider, an agitator, again, not a skin-color thing. he's not family. Sean will never have the tight-knit bond that develops between two black-faced-from-coaldust boys thrown into the mean streets of Cuba and told to survive with streetcats. they did a documentary on us, Streetfight, when you were thinking of running. leave all your vital literal life-and-death decisions and your vitals to me. don't you trust my mustache?

Pedro: Alex, Sean someday may save my life. if you let him. he's already saved my life. he's rich i mean, he's the heir to the Stussy fortune, that's gotta account for something. sign over your rights right away and i promise i won't throw you in prison or jail. Sean will continue my work after i become King of the Underworld.

Pam: move it along gentlemen, i have customers.

Pedro: your office hours?

Pam: 9 to 5, the socialist model. socialism is the best. it helped me understand people for the first time. why they do what they do. i couldn't afford medical textbooks.

*crickets* crickets are on the beach. the beach swallowed up by the sea. swimming crickets, no people.

Mickey Jr. is having a secret conversation with Geoffrey the Giraffe in his office. this call is being traced and monitored by Mueller once it tries to get blocked. the two aren't comparing the size of their necks but rather the spots on their backs. and Mickey Jr. wants a free Disney toy. for someone.

Mickey Jr.: THAT'S my giraffe!!!

Mueller: FUCK. i mean really, i've wasted three years of my life on this, and nothing. NOTHING??!! nothing. i could have been on a beach in Miami tanning my New Englander white whale-blubber alabaster skin in New England. i'm too old for this shit!

President Bump: where's the club? the one Bouchard is in.

Pence: um no, that's Klobuchar, sir. in the snow. global warming, eh? *pine needles the Pres*

Bump: i can't be out there in the snow like that. i can't even do rain. i wanted to like Prince but i ended up liking Elton John, Meghan is gonna be the next Diana. yeah, see it's my hair, people will think my golden locks of hair have turned white and i'm an old man, i can't have that. i love that she's talking about the Green New Deal in that weather! remember, folks, all gold is green underneath, trust me, i've scratched.

Jared Goff: to us in California, rain is snow.

Bump: hey, Jared! *puts his arm around him* let me see the ring!

Jared: *shoves him away from his babyfat face* i'm not the Kushner one! i'm the cushy one. i don't want to talk about it, okay? not everyone is lucky like the California Lottery. you mean a diamond ring?

Klobuchar: WE WILL FUCKING WIN!!! how's THAT for Minnesota-nice.


the entire lawn on the South end of the Cream House is uprooted violently up which takes the House clear into the clouds, one big brown taproot dangling from the bottom girds. sounds like a volcano erupting upside-down. sonic boom. the fence can't hold it, the entire Cream House is one big giant flying drone with spinning wings!!!

Bump: whoa, vertigo. *on the phone* come on, Jeff, hasn't this gone on long enough? now you said yourself in your autobiography you always wanted to be a circus performer who lived off handouts from street strangers to please your mother. see? i read if it's interesting. i always looked up to you, Jeffy, you were the last American oligarch. besides me. i always envied your hair.

Jeff Bezos: you're like postmodern comedy. the death of outrage that has been blown up again into a blowup doll. a bug whose saliva it spits out in battle is bug spray. i mean i published your bus video in the Post, but there was no reaction. like there were 0 comments under the youtube vid. what is going on?

Bump: hey it's not extortion, it's a negotiation between two rich friends. wait a minute, is blackmail dead now? it is huh, i mean now nobody will ever be threatened again, they'll just self-publish their own naked pictures and artistic nudes online. i constantly see all those teenyboppers on myspace just show everything and not care. they don't care about losing a finger cos they're always giving the middle finger in all of their pics. cos society doesn't give a shit anymore about this sort of thing. rats and their rat asses care more. there is no more modesty, no more embarrassment. today, threats are just the regular comments on a youtube video. there's a gun emoji for Codrus sake!

Bezos: look just get Lauren Sanchez off Fox, okay? and Foxtail Channel. she doesn't need to be under any more of those Fox hot lights. or plastic surgery, that stuff is expensive. did you really think i cared about a marriage?, i have money. and mob-tactics her brother. and for fuck sake no more subscriptions of Mad Magazine in old-timey newsboy bundles to my house, that magazine isn't funny anymore. and no more 50-box cases of Honey Nut Cheerios in the shape of a Happy Meal to my doorstep. i'm too busy to eat cereal!

Bump: bzzz bzzz bzzz bezos. i do the mazes on the back of the cereal box. and i always love it when the yearly glossy of my favorite comic book comes in the mail of my mailbox. you hurt me, Jeff, you hurt me with your words.

Bezos: yeah you just poured honey nut over the magazine. the worst thing you said at your rally was for the mailbomber to use Amazon!

Bump: i would say let's continue our pissing contest but well...…...i use your penis as my contact lens.

Bezos: at least mine works.

Bump: wait, where do i get one of those Superman capes everyone was wearing the other night? you are Lex Luthor after all.

Bezos: those were Superwoman capes. for taskforce-multipliers. YOU can't wear a white cape.

Pecker walks by the residence to find air.

Pecker: turns out, mine was bigger than his. this whole thing was a waste of time and resources. i'll be living in Saud Arabia now, but they've taken away my driver's license…

the crones are at the Chevron Shootout in Obec Woods. not funded by big oil.

Gladyce: dear, this is an environmentally-sound project, keep that in mind.

Doryce: *swinging her club* i love all these miniature-golf-style holes cut into the lawn designed by local schoolchildren and math nerds and the public using Starbucks brown-paper ridged circles. like Rube Goldberg machines that are impossible to hole out! okay, imma lay my naked body down on this soft grass here and i want each of you strapping lads from the local golf college to whack a swing with your driver there. on my butt. let's see if i'm the old slapper everyone says i am. go on, don't be bashful give it a good hard swing...……...yay, hole in hole!

Gladyce, despite her age, notices many white balls sunk to the bottom of the gulch of the golf holes. it's impossible to see below cos the water is all dark blue-green, but she does. and, despite her age, she gets into a skintight wetsuit and large oversize novelty goggles and Flipper-stickered flippers on her calloused toes and dives in full-dive. she cleans up all the balls and saves the gulch, chalks one up for the environment and water justice and the power of pollution-pulverization by one person.

Gladyce: but those weren't golf balls. those were dried balls of cum...

Eye Luggage: Halsey has joined the chat. and the Red Circle table.

Dirg: now i get it. you're black. that explains your ass.

Halsey: ……...

Laertus: uh, upside-down painting, impossible-hard, good job! don't reveal if there was a pencil outline before, retain the magic. this ain't tats.

Dirg: don't feel ashamed, girl, i cheated with outlines, too. when i was five. drawing is harder than painting. you're passing. into the night.

Omar: Rube Goldberg...

Dirg: that Omar. she was so hype to get that SNL sketch about her she started to talk too real.

Laertus: stay strong, Dennis Perkins. you know you're in trouble when your SNL revew suddenly gets 300 comments, that's never a good sign, those aren't gonna be praising comments. you're not too old for the gig, Den, stay woke af. there always seems to be time for people for hate, to hate profusely and with many words. where do people find the time?

Eye Luggage: *mouth and hand in a horn* KIIIIIIRRRRIIIIIIIIIITOOOOOOOO!!!!

Dirg: oh god! god yes! let's dig in. with a Dirg dig.

Laertus: i've never seen a franchise that so ardently divides up the populace, bitterer than the fascism v socialism thing we have going on in this country. those that defend it defend it to the death, those that hate it see it as a stain on all anime. and the fact that it's massively popular make the wounds that much more salty.

Dirg: it's like Teen Titans Go but fun.

Laertus: that's an ongoing raging debate debacle.

Dirg: Sword Art Online is the ultimate expression of finding true love online. of the nerd becoming the overpowered jock and getting the girl with two tits. not that i'd know anything about that or have the poster under my bed. it's how gamers get through Valentine's Day. people base their entire marriages around the day-to-day squabbles of Kirito and Asuna, that couple is so important it's saved more lives than drugs which make you question your reality. they are more than a Hollywood Couple, they are a Video Game Couple.

Laertus: *falls out of his chair* and it seems to weirdly condone and revel in rape. my heart was crestfallen this morning when i heard that pack of pelicans screeching cos of the hellbent hurricane winds we experienced nonstop for hours. so unusual. i hope all the chicks were scooped up and that bird family reunited again and all are safe. i climbed a tree for the first time, a tree in the back of our treehouse yard, and spotted a man hiding on a branch.

Scarface Tony: where's Pedro?

Laertus: *holds his chest* breaks my red heart.

at the House, New Roommate Auditions are being held. the three line up one by one by the bay window and get looked over, but not salaciously or sinisterly the way Pedro did it cos Pedro is gone.

Bunim: okay. Numbah One, why should it be you?

Alex Escarno: i'm not sure, i guess i had a plan before to infiltrate and spy on my cozzin but now that my homie holmes from the home country is gone there's no point.

Cory and Rachel: we think your Tom Selleck mustache is sexy! you're like the Weekend at Bernie's guy if he were alive!

Alex: Tom Selleck, Burt Reynolds, i always get those two confused.

Puck: i'll take it from here thank you, i feel so free, my feet stink leisurely and calmly now that Pedro is gone. Number Two, hehe.

#2: if you were stranded on a desert island, or in this apartment, and you had run out of food and water, which roommate would you eat and why?

two roommates from last season's Real World are intrigued and pop their spiky heads in on the dining room, but this guy is too much dark even for Puck. Judd likes him, though.

Jo: *quietly confident* hello all, my name is Joanna but my friends call me Jo. i've traveled many roads. in my life. and to get here. that's why my last name is Rhodes.

Judd: *salivating, eyes orgasmed back* tell me more about that pickax you're wielding in front of us.

Jo: *looks at the seesaw blade* oh this old thing? it's just some show-and-tell, this is what i use to live my best life, to escape my problems atop a hill so i can shout out my pain to the clouds. to keep my feet moving and my mind nimble, my body energized when my spirit dies. i'm a rockclimber. i'm always climbing high trying to achieve my goals. my mum says my head is in the clouds. and she would be right. i scale when i'm sour and i rope when i'm out of dope. fair-weather warning: i ain't no weekend warrior, i take this bouldering stuff seriously. you want to join me sometime climbing? it'll be a neat bonding experience for the whole cast!

Bunim *touching her back* not crew.

Cory and Rachel: *giggling like sorority sisters* SURE! that sounds like fun! we need something to cheer us up after what we've all been through.

Puck: *flipping pages* sorry i initially referred to you as Ho, that was my fault. i like that when you cry it starts raining inside like a London evening. i have that, too.

Alex: it'll be a STEEP climb, my last name is Escarno.

Jo: great! i'm happy for now, not dour. it doesn't last but whatever. let's get started! i'll meet you guys first thing in the bright and early tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn and the crack of my small little arse in skintight climbing shorts to begin climbing Mount Rushmore.

cast and crew: wait, Mount Rushmore? that's illegal to climb.

Jo: right. it's the perfect way for this Brit to feel more American!

Monday, February 11, 2019


1. do you like where you live or do you wish you could move? those months and endless dragout months of road construction right next to my house were murder i won't lie. they ruined my summer......mostly through being so loud i couldn't concentrate on Lucas or any of the other films i watched on putlocker shut in my room all summer with my ipad mini that gives me a splinter on my thumb each time i use it. i once saw a butterfly fly near my room and i became that anime butterfly meme man with the glasses. i need these movies to harken back to my nostalgia and think about what could have been, and let my heart have a good winge. when my heart has a good hard cry, the blood flows more circulatorily through my clogged veins and healthy blue arteries so i don't develop early-onset heart attack as a man of 40 who feels 80.

HOWEVER MEANWHILE once the roads were smoothed away and paved over like they never existed like my life i started to have a good time. the area was quieter cos more cars could get through each loop now due to the double-lane. nights were frozen and eerily noiseless. i could walk to The Store again thanks to the new black bike path in the middle of the highway, before i just starved. BUT i was still craving something missing, i needed movie popcorn. i wished all my favorite fast-food joints were along one thoroughfare like i had at Berkeley. there i could McDonald's it, then hop to Burger King, skip to 7-Eleven, and jump into the arms of a Sizzler waitress.

EDIT: i JUST RIGHT NOW RIGHT THIS MINUTE received a red paper-sailboat box of McDonald's Cheesy Bacon fries from my neighbor who crawled in through my bedroom window. my neighbor is also my plumber and my priest, i'm not handy nor handsy. i'm nibbling the fries to the side of me like all good side-food as i type this. they're pretty good. and now my neighbor is throwing a paper-menu pamphlet in my face from GrubHub and telling me never to bother him again...

2. no matter what life throws at me, i believe that i can deal with it. agree or disagree? everything except a GrubHub pamphlet. the fact that i'm blogging to you today instead of speaking with you gives you your answer and insight into my soul. life is hard, and i am soft. soft like a gelatin teddy bear. but i'm working on it. why just this later this afternoon i'm gonna go out with my friend Lucy van Pelt. i told her expressly no hunting for pelts or the friendship is off!!! she assures me we're just gonna have a nice day at the park and she's gonna teach me how to field-goal-kick a football......Australian-style...

3. a dear friend is stuck in an unhappy relationship. what advice would you give to the friend to cope---how can they make lemonade out of lemons?

first of all, deliberately misspell lemonade on your stand, like call it LEMONAZE or something, the public always finds that cute. and charge 5 cents or a nickel even though you'll go underwater quickly with that business model. underwater with sweetened water.

to my dear friend Bambi, i urge him to protect his mother at all costs, secret her out of the forest under cover of night shrubs before it's too late. and for god sake let everyone who can vote vote in the next upcoming woods election. Bambi's father, who is anti-gun, is running against the hunter. you know, Bambi is a cultural icon, he was the first person to bear the name Bambi using it seriously as a male name.

4. nothing of value can be learned from failure, true or false? let me flip Two-Face's coin...…

not true. like take me, after the carrots thing i invested my life savings into bitcoin. everybody and their grandma Chuck Schwab investor is telling me my bitcoins are worthless, but that's real money i have in my pocket there!

5. even if you are sure about your ultimate choice, do you still ask others for advice before making an important or risky decision? i asked my friend Chuck about it the other day:

i asked him if i should try out for the football team. Chuck said he knew why i was doing this and it was natural selection that Chuck got the chicks, not me. she wasn't seeing anyone and i'd get killed on that field cos my glasses would crush me. i retorted by throwing Title IX back at his faceguarded face. then we had pizza from a cold Chicago hot-dog shoppe. Chuck asked her if she liked politics and she said no. Chuck asked her if she liked cars and she said no. i told Chuck this line of questioning was incredibly sexist but he said it was the '80s. then he kissed her as i watched from my bike...

i trust Chuck. Chuck Sheen.

BONUS: what is the sweetest or most rewarding moment of your life?

well as you know i work at a casino in the middle of the desert. i can't hide my mouth when i'm pleasing people with my words as i deal them cards and determine their fates, whether they're gonna be rich or poor in life and have to take out a loan. so i was swimming at the last Y one day, the lanes with the rainbow flags overhead, swimming while chewing on a piece of hard candy. i bit into that sucker of a hard candy and my entire mouth's teeth shattered into white dust. if it wasn't for the Invisalign mouthguard dental implants surgery that was the clear choice i couldn't go back to work. i became self-conscious and depressed and hangdog. i was so embarrassed i covered my mouth whenever i was eating and didn't look at nobody, not even my mom. never took pictures unless it was just my eyelevel. but now my customers and potential jailers look at my teeth and call them GORGEOUS!!! they tell me i have a million-dollar smile! they ain't lyin, my teeth are now green poker chips...