Friday, June 28, 2019



* Kevin Richardson from Backstreet Boys: how do you like my solo album? yes that's a cigarette in my ear, i'm trying to quit. no, i'm not Kevin Federline. i really do hope Britney's okay. follow the Amanda Bynes model for success. there are no such things are positive comments on Instagram.

* Apple: airpods. we're not bringing back the ipod.

* commercial directed by MC Escher

* Kevin: NYC is the last place in America you can bounce a rubber ball inside your house. rubber condoms don't count. vote, people, everything's at stake!

* Kevin: i'm looking in a mirror. i need to shave my muttonchops better. i don't feel like doing the De Niro routine. i'm forcing my frown upside-down. i am depressed…

* ...bouncing helps with my depression.

* parkourist: bro, i'm a real athlete, i don't need cheats...
Kevin: get off my cheeks.

* musical guest for this week (SNL still on hiatus): makes me think of tassels. the tassels on strippers' tits, not the tassel on a graduation mortarboard, and i feel that great shame in the pit of my lungs again, so heavy i cannot breathe

* kid: mister, watch out for all those alien pods on the sidewalk! they've already invaded us, you know this, right?
Kevin: kid, what are you doing just getting out of school? isn't it noon yet? i'm hungry for lunch, that's why i stepped out of my apartment, the only reason i go outside anymore is food.

* NYC: where the laundromat washing machine is deliberately abandoned and placed out on the sidewalk for Pop Art.
Kevin: damn, anyone got a quarter? i need to wash my drawers from last night's accident. i'm completely bottomless right now and nobody passing by has noticed me...

* Kevin: i li(v)e in the big city, one jump on this abandoned mattress left out in the cold equals the required 8 hours of sleep. if i bounce on this will i go to Saturn? or to the time when those bouncing Saturn toys were all the rage? '90s pogo sticks?

* always construction round the next corner of this city. always construction zone barrier walls to put up. always the next tree to de-toilet-paper...

* Kevin: people still wait around and cram into bus station booths like sardines? i don't get out much.
mob: it's for the Wendy's Biggie Bag. and also the bus flies.
Kevin: thank you, haven't done a jungle gym since i was a kid. i mean i'm still a kid but
mob: thanks. you're so fat you made the pole rubber, now the bus missed us. you should exercise more.

* stop/ go/ break the time barrier/ break the law

* cop: hands up against the brick wall, boy! spread 'em!!! it's dangerous to race across crosswalks, idiot! did you graduate kindergarten!? there are tons of old ladies here!
Kevin: what, officer? i was running. if i walked here, i would have ended up roadkill! this is an insanely-busy typical NYC street! one of those old ladies became my wife.

* mook: buddy, you see the sign? CONSTRUCTION ZONE ARROW POINTING DOWN
Kevin: how long have you been working this giant pothole?
mook: do the words Big Dig and Fatberg mean anything to you?
Kevin: hey! who you callin' fat?!! when will you be done?
mook: when April is finished with her turtle orgy down there. all of them. plus the rat carrying a Cheesy-Bites pizza.

* Kevin: i'm in the void...oh, no, it's just my nightmare of having never completed college rearing its ugly head up again, whenever i see university stone steps like this.
MC Escher: young acolyte, i tricked you! those steps only lead to you bouncing again, you can't win.

* Kevin: Ms. Isabel Allende, i need those flared jeans. have you seen Roma?
Isabel Allende: why is this the only question i ever get asked anymore in interviews? Cuaron is a hack who stole all my ideas!
Kevin: what happens in the book you're reading?
Isabel Allende: spoilers: magical realism. matches in mouths burning down haybarns, that sort of thing.
Isabel: crazy?
Kevin: no i am not. that's bouncing your HEAD against the wall and expecting a different result...

* TMNT: hey! we're not finished down here! push another button!
Death Note intro grate perspective
American cars now...
taxi-cab driver: Stuber? can you show me the way to Sesame Street?
Stuber: your beret gives you away.

* Kevin: FUCK. why did i do this!!? my anxiety's coming back!
pigeons: wanna sing and dance? that always helps calm the children passenger pigeons-of-war down. *cooing* Doin' the Pigeon…
pigeons: you know KFC? it's really us.
Kevin: i look out over the horizon---wobbily---and see the Berkeley bookstore i used to frequent between lectures. i think about that aborted college thing in my past again...
pigeons: pray to your father like our culture does.
Kevin: my father died. he was a skyscraper window-washer...
the pigeons look and stare at each other.

* Kevin: hey remember Discovery Zone?
Kevin Federline: nah man, that was before my time, pops.
Kevin: i'm not the Kevin on the ledge right now...


happy weekend, my babies.
QUESTION GOING INTO TOMORROW: has anyone ever out-pizza'd the Hut? and what would that look like? Jabba stops eating all that Galaxy Pizza from a seaside pier wharfing community in Connecticut and slims down to Salacious B. Crumb?

Wednesday, June 26, 2019


Dirg: The Dalai Lama, despite everything that he is, is still a man. i'm glad someone of his stature came over to our side, lends us credibility. to bag a Being Of Mueller's Mystical Level like The D.L., well, what can i say? we finally got one in our column.

Laertus: DL stands for Disabled List...

Obec College Professor: today's lesson: will the new rules becoming less-stringent help or hurt the new tv shows coming down the pike? will the fact that "shit" can now be said on network tv hurt comedies?

Dirg raises his one hand.

Dirg: it will now make dramas hilarious. but it will hurt comedies. it's always funnier when the shit is bleeped than when it's actually said.

Laertus: tis true. take The Boondocks for instance. you actually don't feel the impact of the shit when it's said, you only feel it when it's bleeped out.

Molly Qerim: why are you still staring at me? you were banned from this studio.

LaVar Ball: *grinning* you said focus so i'm focusing. staring to avoid stealing. cos i ain't starring no mo. making sure you don't steal my house.

Molly Q: this is my house.

at the rally:

Bernie Sanders: okay, here's the deal, America. i mean i'll make you a deal, America: all or nothing, i'll wear the blue fish-fry shirt ONLY IF Ben & Jerry's brings back the orange Droog sherbet to represent our present dystopian times. i cringe whenever i don't see that flavor on my ice shelf.

Biden: come on, man, wear the shirt, even I had to wear the shirt, and i'm older than Cleopatra. *looking up to a sky filled with chariots of fire* Cleopatra was hot.

President Bump: what's the deal with all those Best Buy employees in a gaggle on stage over there like that? is there a sale? i ban all sales! that's how Murica will get rich again!

at the debates:

Chris Matthews: i don't know which word to open with: scared or fight night?

when 4PM rolls around:

Chris Matthews: scared. *he pauses for 5 minutes* fight night.

Chris makes the waving motion like he wants the home audience to come with him backstage to the MSNBC luncheonette breakroom to see something...

Marianne Williamson wears a green diamond on her forehead. Pearl from Steven Universe cheers her on from the stands.

Marianne: i don't need a riser thank you, i'm gonna float just above the foot of the stand for the two hours, meditating internally as i speak.

Baba Vanga with a tooth missing from her mouth that's in her forehead saunters into the auditorium rows and sits down center-front-first-aisle. she stares at Marianne and smiles with her broken sweet smile.

Baba: oh my child, YOU are something special, you represent LOVE, not politics, you are a delight! come under my wing, i'm only two-feet high but my cloak is big enough for the two of us. wanna get outta here? i mean, like, disappear with me and poof! appear with me again at my villa in the overhang-cliff of the Homecountry Mountains.

Marianne: i dreamt about you coming like this, it was both a sexual and non-moist dream. a voice kept telling me, "tell 'em Jill sent ya.."

Bab: my boss? i mean never mind all that, you are clearly ripe for witchhhood. shit, you would make Guildmistress the minute you touched your first broom!

Marianne: well i've been my local county's Chessmistress for 40 years straight now 15 years lesbian, so...i guess it's time for new adventures. lead the way, funny old hag, to my destiny! the journey---for me---never ends...

Baba: okay, deary, but, um, just to let you know before we start...i'm not into all that newfangled New Age tentacles you kids are into nowadays, i'm strictly Old Skool, i use the dust from my bones as spell-sand. not gotten at LUSH.

the two leave...nobody notices that they were ever there...

Robert De Niro: *on the phone* around the horn, coatcheck girl with the peppermint hat. hello? is Bob there? it's Bob.

Mueller: *in his secret sliding library* who? who is this? how'd you get my private number? i'm private.

De Niro: yeah, so thanks, Bob, i need your day-long public testimony for character-background before i start playing you. i'm lazy, see, i don't read the script anymore, i don't study, i'm too old for that shit, when does it come time for me to go on vacation and relax from paying my dues? i'd rather watch the movie than read the book.

Mueller: my character is stellar and exemplary. you know I am the real tough-guy here, Bob. i mean i'm the one going in front of Congress live for hours and hours like it was some sort of PBS fishing special with just me in the chair! no lawyers! you couldn't do that on your best boxing day!

De Niro: funny you should mention that, i'm here in Britain…

Bump: *hanging off the Cream House Rotunda Romeo-+-Juliet hedge-maze balcony* ahhhh, nothing i enjoy more than spending an evening alone drinking pinot and watching Pinoe play soccer in the World Cup. but why does she have pink hair? is she a female or something?

Eye Luggage: i love that Marta wore red lipstick on her lips for her final match. and we are lucky enough to have Marta right here in podcast-studio! it is an honor, senorita! your red lipstick is all the Red Circle we need! all the rage. and the rouge. so, tell me, why'd you do it?

Bump: i know why, all the whores i've ever done in San Francisco wore that same red lipstick. it's to virtue-signal dominance in bed.

Marta: this is to all the young girls out there---in Brazil but frankly, i'll take them from anywhere at this point! i wore this red lipstick on my lips so you'd LISTEN to what i SAID with my mouth, not with my feet! hear my message: only YOU can save soccer!

Bump: smoke in our National Forests. go find a bear in the woods. can you imagine if the U.S. wins that match against France IN France this Friday? the entire 90-minutes the crowd in there in the stands is gonna be screaming at the top of their European-smoke-filled lungs AGAINST our girls. i hope Megan Rapinoe does well, i really do, her last name doesn't exist, i hope she scores two goals...that aren't penalty kicks. penalty kicks are cheap, they aren't real goals, only goals that are actually scored form the field should count as goals, i like real away with Corner Kicks that capture the goalie, the rule should be if the ball goes out in the Corner Kick Corner you have to buy a concession at the traveling concession stand in the stands. at least one popcorn and burger. if France loses, they will literally burn the field down, all the grass will be one big bonfire.

Pence: too soon, sir, i am deathly afraid i'm gonna lose my job next election. what the fuck *bleeped* will become of me then?

Dirg: i agree with you, sir prez. also, the goalposts should be rubber to make it easier to score goals for the poor women.

Laertus: your head is made of rubber. both of them. that's why you can't masturbate properly, you can never cum. V.A.R., we finally have proof that not EVEYTHING gets better with technology.

Eye: ah, women's football, my paradise! what a potter's field of gold nuggets! where everyone on the field is either lesbian or questioning and they ALL have tattoos, you might not see where they are on their bodies, but believe me, they ALL have tattoos…

Holzhauer is sneaking around Vegas in a room he is unfamiliar with:

Holzhauer: *looks at cards* umm, what is Straight Flush?

shadow dealer who looks familiar: what? you just revealed your hand! i was about to give you a Yu-Gi-Oh card. do you know the chances of receiving a natural straight flush with no wild cards?

Holzhauer: i do know those odds: it's like 0.01 or something. sorry, i'm not used to this type of gambling. i do sports betting.

Ken: *on the phone in a shady lobby with the bay windows on the indoor elevator open* YOU LOST IT!!?

Holzhauer: my mind, yes, and the money, yes, but i'll get the money back, the Debates are coming up, i'll make it up there.

Ken: i take solace only in knowing that all the money you lost was your own, so i'm still the money champ of all time. you said you'd deliver. you said you knew a man...

at Alex Trebek's hospital bed, Vic Mignogna is reluctant to hold Alex's hand again despite warnings to the contrary from both doctors and physicians. and faithless spiritual healers. and Ken.

Ken: i told you i'd be back. i'm everywhere. and nowhere. i ken things. and hear things. in the wind. i viddy things. wait, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING!!?

Vic steps out into the hospital overhang-spotlight in a fully-bodied limb-capacity mobile and 100% lyric-liable-pliable-rubber cosplay suit of Broly.

Vic: i like to wear my Broly suit out in public whenever i can, this was the last time i had fun at a convention being the lovable anime freak i am and everyone knew me as. after that appearance, my personal life went downhill and my legal bills piled up. i am the first person---American or Japanese---who has ever been by a court of law banned from anime. i used to be king of the fucking mountain in the field. i was the court-jester in my circles.

Ken: now you're the queen. tilling the field. and your head is spinning in circles. is that rubber comfortable? is it breathable?

Vic: no it is not...*puts his rubber-glove hands up* i can't breathe…

Vic hugs Alex Trebek with all his might, despite all his qualms, a full bodysuit hug, with foam-fingered-gloves-for-hands included in the hug.

Alex's eyes are heavy and laden and have been closed for some time now. he has been sleeping for a very long time...

Ken: this is not good. this is grim, his hands are clammy, he hasn't moved, his breath under his mustache is cold and grey. time is running out! we must save Alex Trebek!!! your touches aren't doing it for him anymore, we need more power, captain coo-coo. we need a REAL celebrity to power the cure!

the shadowy figure in the corner of the hospital room continues to be shadowy and doesn't get up from the seat, though you can hear the shuffling of feet as legs are crossed, just out-of-view of the center spotlight.

Laertus: *on his Pear watch* that's the thing with Instagram.

Llywarch: *on his Pear watch* what was that? i can only conceive of you as a bodyless voice, this is scary and unsettling. you're just a series of echoes. where am i? what room is this? is anybody out there? i don't really care about Instagram anymore! i want my beloved friend back! have you made the decision yet? i have this feeling in the pit of my goat stomach: like it's like i am so hungry to eat something but then i realize i don't eat...

Laertus: yeah that's the thing with Instagram. like, you go off Instagram for two months, then the people pester you and pepper you with questions about where the hell you've been doing for two months, and you reply that you went on vacation, and they're like: "isn't that the POINT of Instagram!!? to show US your life, to POST your damn vacation pics!!?"

Eye: anime roundup, go.

Dirg: what's the deal with all the Naruto Shippuden videos on youtube!!? every single video! EVERY SINGLE FULL EPISODE of the show posted on youtube is the same way! be a polite post-host! they all have this weird voice-track where the voices don't match up with the picture onscreen, like the voices are 5-minutes-ahead of the film-track. no matter who the channel-name is, they ALL post the same useless video!

Eye: Conan the Barbarian, go. i had to watch this single without my Harley Hammer and it sucked!

Anjelica Huston wearing a bird's nest for hair: why can't i get confirmed? you know, i've lobbed some serious accusations and nobody takes me seriously. guess they weren't pretty enough. cos i'm only the daughter of the man who gave us The Other Side of the Wind. who(m) do i have to fuck to get noticed about my credible claims of sexual abuse? honey i've seen things in my 15 30 65 years in Hollywood and on Hollywood sets, i've seen it all, honey, i got stories to tell you wouldn't believe! i got dirt on ALL the men! Conan? he is a bit much on the machismo scale, it all just toppled over into farce. it reminded me of my nephew, a young boy who greeted me the other morning by sliding down the banister of our stairs, picking up the hat-stand we keep by the portico of our hallway front-door which is a lobby, and swinging it around wildly recklessly swervingly crashing all my mirrors nearly decapitating me, him declaring: I'M THE KING OF THE UNIVERSE!!! see, therein is the problem, that's the problem with society: girls don't do that.

Doryce and Gladyce: she's one of us! has to be!

MEANWHILE E. Jean Carroll holds her umbrella up in the center of the Hong Kong protests. Cecily Strong gives the fist-bump of Girl Power to her from the stands. Kenan Thompson is there, too, but is preoccupied internally in his mind with something else:

Kenan Thompson: great, now i can't play Big Papi again, either! what am i gonna do for work?

Dirg: i'm glad John Milius is finally getting his due, it pains liberals to admit that he's as talented as Spielberg and Lucas. he actually was the secret deep-state head of the mafia, the USC Mafia. he went against the grain, he fought that '70s feminism tooth-and-nail. and sword. the Woman Movement moved. out of the way. it was a return to normalcy.

Laertus: disturbingly, a lot of British youth ate up this movie in droves. it influenced an entire generation of boys, the future Brexiters.

Dirg: good on ya, mate yutes. Arnold's accent had the opposite effect the film-critic illuminati desired, it actually disarmed the character, made him palatable, made him sweet and goofy. sex in this film was realistic, that's what happens when you try to lay down with a witch…

Laertus: i was all set to slam deeply this hammy muscley sword-and-sandal wannabe, but i have to admit: the character of Valeria saves this piece. from being shit. she is a dynamite dynamic character.

Dirg: she's what all women should strive to be, she's the TRUE independent woman who can take care of herself but doesn't mind taking roles when it comes to the lovin'. she believes in service.

Laertus: her scene where she talks about loneliness, and passing the other yellow caravans of lovers down the line only seeing the love though their silhouette shadows along the sand-path, is VERY effective, that is some great dialogue, i'm sure it was Oliver Stone who wrote those lines. she adds humanity to the film, she needs to constantly appear strong to survive this world but deep-down she wants to love as any woman wants to love: tenderly. as she says herself, she found warmth in this brutal world with Conan and doesn't want to lose it. or him. then of course they kill her off cos that's the only way to invoke the revenge plot. kill off the best character by far.

Dirg: she won, conquered, two planets: the Golden Globe and the Saturn. but she should have won the Big One. i heard Sandahl Bergman---relation to Ingmar, right?---was an American Gladiators extra before this happened to her.

Eye: i have a crush on her, for all the reasons. i admit, that scene where they're fighting off the spirits come from Hell to take Conan to the Underworld was effective. i wanted my darling Harley Hammer to get those same face-tattoos before Mike Tyson did. and the music was good, i actually bought the soundtrack. the cassette tape.

Dirg: Conan's mom was a porn star. in France. but come on! there is no way in those times a black man would command all the power respect and prestige he had as the snakehead of that cult!

Laertus: hey man, the black man had black magic, right?

Dirg: what was the answer to the Riddle of Steel anyway?

Laertus: the hand, that you masturbate yourself with. and what was with all that Christ imagery? Christ! come on! on-the-nose much?

Dirg: Milius is a punkass who pussed out, the original print was WAY more violent and bloody, but he had to make concessions to get it released. it should have been more like the original source-material, those dark unsympathetic comics i love and pattern my own work after.

Laertus: and then of course it all ends in a perfectly fascist Nazi cascading of steps-staircase. propaganda prop. like we were back in WWII all over again just for kicks. white symbols lurking everywhere.

Dirg: Milius has stated he is so on The Right that he's essentially an anarchist. a Romantic anarchist who believes in true love and loyalty above all else, all other virtues. the 19th century: when life was good. he reminds me of Hunter S. Thompson but with a little Stephen A. Smith.

Laertus: that's the thing, eventually The Left and The Right will come together, they'll collide into each other because they'll double-back, they'll arch their back and fold in on themselves and touch each other with their tips on the other side of the extremes they're careening towards. they'll come together to form a new ism which combines Fascism and Communism into Million Dollar Milius Extremism Exchange. it'll end up looking like a giant Ouroboros Snake. anarchism is a beautiful concept, even a beautiful goal, but it's impossible to impement in reality. what would anarchism look like in a practical sense? hey remember Universal Studios?

Dirg: hey, men aren't cattle. when we chew cud, we spit it out cos we vape. freedom is a gun in your hand. of course i do, buddy! that was one of the first things we did together as friends. we snuck out of our Catholic-school field-trip-group to sneak around and discover what the rides and attractions were really like. we were young then so that didn't involve attractive girls. or boys as i later found out. what show-times WE could go to when there were less crowds so we could really enjoy the shows. you were such a chicken the whole time! never willing to try new things or break the law by jumping the chain-link fence keeping the people in line like cattle. those pens were cages. holding onto the back of my Bermuda shorts in back of me as we walked the park, you were such a coward.

Laertus: but did we find it! the Conan show literally was just us in that empty auditorium, i still remember all those empty steel rows of rectangular seats like parochial-school lunch tables. it's all coming back to me in flashbacks: i remember sitting in the front row and getting misted by all the gallons of water whooshing on stage in an S-curve. and the Giant Snake which i had no context at the time for interpreting. and i do remember the woman! yes, the woman with the blonde braided hair in rolls and the tit-shields for copper armor! that was Valeria! tho i didn't know her name at the time. only watching the movie recently can i fill in the puzzle pieces and that stageshow from the '80s makes sense. i remember they always kissed at the end of the show, right?

Dirg: as hot as her face was, it was even hotter with that black war-paint on. we were lucky, what we saw was one of the first Universal Studios Conan shows ever, the part of Conan was played by Bill Maher but the part of Valeria was played on that stage by Sandahl herself! the studio figured it would hype the movie more this way to have her.

Laertus: i just think what aliens would think of us, you know? if they saw we humans making a movie like this. like the absurdity of making a film: the absurd sight of having humans wait, lounge around in a trailer, loiter and have craft-service, put on costumes and stand in the center of weird sets on the Earth and then pretend to say words and jump around and fake-fight. for what? it's all so silly, the aliens simply transmit all their art and culture through the hive-mind to their people, no need to fake anything, their art is all real, their real experience collectively-shared with themselves. they don't need to dress up in costumes they're gonna take off later, they're already in their bodies, their costumes are permanent.

Eye: Ballykissangel. to be continued, forever.

Laertus: aye. we must talk about how it all ended between Assumpta and Father Clifford. no i mean in real life. why did they decide to kill off Assumpta?

Eye: cos Dervla and Tompkinson were fucking in real life.

Dirg: i guess the Catholic priest got some after all.

Laertus: so what happened? did the relationship go south and the working-conditions on set on location in Ireland became unbearable? untenable? impossible? too much baggage and emotional residue? enough resin to fill a billion shots of shandy? i wonder who blinked first? who dumped who?

Dirg: it's whom.

Eye: and eye luggage. it's so sad, in my headcanon those two are still lovers in real life. you can't break up a perfect union like that!!! the real mystery is why did Father leave if Assumpa wanted out of her contract? he could have stayed on and made shitloads more money and become more famous and we wouldn't have had to deal with that God-awful priest from Tasmania!

Laertus: my headcanon is that Tompkinson is a Romantic, he was so heartbroken from having Assumpta dump him---Dervla, the perfect Irish lass---he just couldn't go on...

Eye: i'm gonna be heartbroken when our talks end. i can't talk to anyone else in the universe or world about Ballykissangel like this the way i talk about it with you, we share a burning passion for it. you better not dump me for another bloke and start talking to him about the show!!!

at the Treehouse:

Doryce: wake up, dummy! the gardeners are coming over to work on the bathroom. Melbourne's coming over, too, to ease tensions, to get you two factions working together.

Dirg: hey old bat, why is there a lawnmower parked in my backyard? did they forget to pick it up? NOW who's leaving signs for who? whom.

Doryce: that's MY backyard!

Melbourne: the gardeners want all of us to work together to cut the grass. it was left here purposefully, they wanted you to ride it one day, maybe you'd like to cut grass like they do, and we can all become friends.

Doryce: i still see the worms sliming up the bathroom, they come in droves, their numbers are increasing. i feel so bad for our cats, imma pick up some nice fresh cat food for them tomorrow at The Store. meanwhile i'm not picking the worms up in tissues and depositing them outside anymore, i've lost patience for that, i'm putting them in the toilet and flushing.

Gladyce: for shame, dear! shortcuts will get you in the end, you know that about life! all your decisions come back to haunt you. are you going to the bathroom as you flush? that's disgusting! that's gonna backfire.

Doryce: i'm so sorry, i don't mean to do that to the slime-suckers, but i get lazy at midnight…

Gladyce: tell me again, i love when you story me. and be sure to pick up some more coffee at The Store.

Doryce: Garden Grove. the last Barnes & Noble next to the last Blockbuster Video. Farmer's Market, Los Angeles. that escalator bedazzled in yellow lights! you come down there into the three-story level all shag-carpeted orange like a La Hambra '70s hippie library. the books are all lined-up and cooled under glass at the cake shop. no cakes there, only books to choose. it's a reader's paradise, a black Barcalounger on every corner inside. you can learn and learn spells to your heart's content without getting fat.

Gladyce's eyes are sleepy but she's wired and wide-awake. she wants to sleep but she can't.

Codrus: come inside, brother, do you see the two Chalices on the altar? look inside them, at the reflecting pool of the wine in them.

Cotard: you don't have to remind me, brother, i went through your hell. the wine has turned to water.

Codrus: *spelling* ah, now is the time to enter the Temple. through the chalice's bowl.

they enter. into a desperate space.

Cotard: *throwing up on the altar* i can't stay here for long, i get sick of this place. what do you two talk about anyway? what could you and she possibly have in common?

Codrus: hey! sacrosanct. and you call me the vomitous one. oh, we shoot the shit, i tell her about that time Miley Cyrus spit in her younger sister Noah's mouth on stage and Noah had to swallow it to preserve the family genetic line, stuff like that, origin of the Ark and those heavy rains and weird names.

Cotard: you are an abomination to the profession of god.

outside, Sinphony is having it out with a mysterious shadow-woman in a grey shawl and cloak. this figure tips her hood and stops her traveling-booth with the big wheel by the side of the dust road by the orange pebble.

Madame Pons: don't be shy, dearie, come and peep my wares. all hardbodies here, see these crystals, child? all colors, of the Pink Floyd rainbow, all shades, all cuts, i can't give these away at LUSH i mean they are valuable trinkets from the most-exotic regions in Asia Minor, one-of-a-kind and priceless. these crystals will breathe life into you, breathe love into you, real love, all my girls say so, these crystals have helped them find their soul mates. on campus. and in the woods.

Sinphony: rubbish! flaming garbage! you're a female Lord?!! absurd! what silly girls, my Master scorns them for being weak and rubber-kneed! who needs black-magic horoscopes from Hell when you have the Church? i have my love. the only man i need. he teaches me all about love everyday.

Pons: that isn't love, Sinphony, that's abuse...…...what if i told you you could be an independent woman who don't need no man? right here, too, in this village. you could be the first female doctor ever on Earth!

Sinphony: *incredulous look on her lips* WHAT!!? girls can't be village elders!!!


Monday, June 24, 2019


that's not Kristen Wiig in the reboot.........and a James Gandolfini in an alternate universe who dieted and slimmed down and kept healthy and got past his demons

1. how many sexual partners do you currently have? not counting myself, zero. but you should always count, right? you should always count on yourself, that's what Oprah and Marie Kondo say. i'm a real zero...

2. do you have any secret sexy kinks you have not told a current lover, and why are you so secretive?
a) i don't want to do my kinks with my current partner
b) partner would be shocked
c) partner may get upset
d) i have no secrets

partner didn't get upset, but she got an upset-stomach. gave her some rainbow Tums, but they were like 10 years old and dusty. i HAD no secrets, but then i tried Secret gel on my armpits. i felt clean, but then i felt dirty, you know? i like to make love with Mott the Hoople in the background, sometimes the music gets real loud, but it ain't shit-kicking music. my stepfather threw me into my own 9th-birthday-birthday-table but it was out of love, he only wanted me to play the best A-flat minor on the indoor cowboy guitar that i could. i showed him my hands and told him my hands were not made for such things, he talked about throwing hands...he taught me how to shuffle. cards, not ipod music.

3. have you ever been naked in public? (eg nude beach, nudist camp, randomly)
a) yes, i loved it
b) yes but not again, never again!
c) no but would consider it
d) no would never

i live in a retirement community...… as such there are nudist camps everywhere: nudist coffee shops, nudist police stations, nudist ASPCAs. the only place there ISN'T any nudity is Mel's Diner, which disappoints the ass-pinching cowboys. what is the original kid from the movie thinking? he gets to be in ONE episode---the pilot episode---of the show before they switch him with another son while MEL HIMSELF gets to do BOTH the film and the whole show and becomes famous! kid with glasses is kicking himself in the baseball-diamond sand you see in the first episode's end credits right now.

4. when at home i prefer to be a) naked b) dressed

in my cowboy boots. just my cowboy boots. my stepdad turned to me one night after a cigarette burn from his new lover---my mom---left a big singe-hole in his plaid shirtpocket just laying there sitting there resting there on his shoulder. the old jokes of a bully fucking your moms last night don't apply here. he told me,

"son, freedom is having nothing left to lose..."

then he told us---mom and me in the motel---that the girl in the The Bodyguard poster wasn't Whitney. i mean how could he have known that in the '70s?

never saw him again, he went rescuing a gaggle of turkeys who were drowning cos they were drinking too much rainwater when they turned their heads upward toward the cloudy sky...

5. would you rather wrestle naked in a pool of Jello or chocolate pudding? after the Cosby thing, i vowed never to do that again...


Friday, June 21, 2019



* that's every writer's credo right there

* next up for Darren Criss: the Morrissey Story...written and directed and executive-produced by Morrissey...crowdfunded of course cos Morrissey has a lot of friends. it will be the first thing Bill Cosby is in since prison. Bill Cosby playing himself.
Morrissey: Bill Cosby played himself...

* Darren Criss: that's a name right out of a 1930s potboiler, one of those detective comic strips where it's a LONG drawn-out caper case story and you only get ONE panel a month to try to discover the mystery and solve it before the author does. his girlfriend is named Polly Package or something.

* i confess, i never watched Glee...…...i probably still won't but Darren Criss is cool

* Manager: promise me, no more open-mic nights.
on the phone: closed-mic night then?
Manager: how would that work?
on the phone: we hear your voice but only behind closed-doors. like Congress. and then everyone gets a participation trophy for doing their jobs. hey, didn't you play Robin Williams?
Manager: yes. it was so traumatic that whenever i see Robin Williams on tv now, i cry, i'm incapable forever of ever laughing at Robin Williams again.

* Manager: excuse me, guy in a dark alley, are you eating a giant Cheeto with glue on top?
Phoenix, the director: cut. script, please! book!

* at the bus:
Darren: i'm just a nobody.
Manager: turns out, Glee had a lot of backstage problems, didn't it? a lot of personalities in that talent-pool in need of shitload piles of help. here's my card.
Darren: just take a selfie with me and begone, thot. hey, why are you wearing my vest? did you steal it when i wasn't looking? you swiped a homeless man?

* Manager holds up nacho fries.
S&P: what's that?
Manager: the only thing he gets to eat: one nacho fries a day, that's it, no water, just Baja Drink, he needs to stay in shape for all the girls...and boys.

* Darren: i just like singing and composing piano music about Mexicans.
Manager: get Criss on the Biden team right away! he is the key to victory!
S&P: Biden doesn't know how to use a telephone...

* Darren: *singing* cheese brings me to my knees...
S&P: so it's a porn?
Darren: *singing* you're the love of my life...
S&P: you love French fries? you don't love a person?
Manager: it's very millennial, it'll sell well with all the shut-in gamers out there.
S&P: what's the title of the track?
Darren: "Chasing Gold".
S&P: Tokyo 2020, gotcha. get Mario, not Rio, on the pipe.

* Maria Taylor: i'm here with Darren Criss and guest at the Oscars. who are you excited to see tonight, Criss?
Darren: that's Cross, i'm Jesus. did you know Taco Bell now has spicy nuggets?
Maria Taylor: uhhhhhh...…...and you? who are you excited to see?
Nacho Fries: you, sugar.
Maria: i recently got engaged.
Nacho Fries spills her sauce.

* Manager: don't waste the fries at a party doing party tricks!
Darren: they're my fries! i earned them! i can wear a golden fry around my gold chain if i want!
Manager: no, kid, your parents own you and your parents got deported.
Darren: what? why?
Manager: it's complicated, let's just all vote for Oprah the next time and we can forget all this and this insane time. Gloria Vanderbilt is helping from the other side but it's gonna take all of us, a collective group effort to topple.
Darren waves the Communist flag at a Taco Bell rally.

* Manager: watch out, kid! don't jump high into your backyard party pool like the rest of your dumb milennial friends do, that barrier is deceptively clear...

* cop: no contraband at the concert, no girls can carry sauce. but the girls are allowed to be sauced.
cop: oh, and Michael Jackson's Estate called, they are suing you for sliding like that.

* Darren: what happened?
Manager: it suddenly went quiet. and you're not in the studio, there are no microphones in here. you cannot afford a microphone anymore.
Darren: hold me.
Manager: sure, kid.
Darren: no, cos i can't swim...don't want to drown in my own indoor pool like Elvis.

* Darren: what's this?
Manager: a magazine. you millennials don't read books anymore.
Manager: thank you for clearing out my desk, now i don't have to ring Marie Kondo.
Darren: i wanted to break your fish tank but i now see that would have been impossible.
Manager: fish tacos at Taco Bell, why hasn't that ever happened?

* Manager: what have you done!!!
Darren: i'm burning Elvis's piano like a beach bonfire. to stay warm for one night.
Manager: allow me to tell you the parable of the fisherman who got one fish for free. the jingle game don't last forever, kid, unless you're Santa.

Darren: unhand my scruff! i wrote a Transformers jingle and got two nacho-cheese-colored Ferraris.
Manager: those are Bumblebee Ferraris. and why do you need TWO Ferraris?
Darren: one for now, one from G1. and as you can see in the background of my obscene car collection, i wrote the reboot to the Beverly Hillbillies theme and got that jalopy, the original one detailed in pristine condition. Granny from that show called me and said she wanted to fuck me.
Manager: Granny's still alive?
Darren: yes, and she's running for President.

* that's not a middle-finger at the end


TOMORROW: actually NOT Taco Bell but McDonald's, the burger from Spain, got a regular Quarter Pounder last time, cos i misheard myself at the drive-thru mic...

Wednesday, June 19, 2019


Kit Harington is having a bad spell of it trying to cope with post-GOT life. he no got a handle on his emotions yet.

he stumbles up the dust mountain and surveys the landscape. some green, but mostly dry brush. ready for a fire at any second. the land's seas could be jewels if only they shone in the heat. he needs to see a twinkle for the one in his eye is burnt out. it's too hot to be wearing a real animal-hide---especially in L.A.---as a fur brown coat but he does so anyway, he trudges on, he keeps wearing his hair in braids and howls at the sun.

Dr. Drew: *his glasses gleaming the rays of the sun* hey Kit! hi! how bout we come down from there, huh? it's time for group. follow my orders, my nigga? don't you want to go swimming? we have a pool on our roof. the glass panels keeps it a toasty 70-degrees at all times.

Kit has taken a break. a nice one-month break to rest his limbs, escape from all the crayzy cray-cray of crowds, from the Hollywood machine, and decide what he wants to do next to fulfill the rest of his life.

Kit: *on the phone with Kate Beckinsale* yeah.

Kate: Kate and Kit, it was kismet. so do you know what you want to do with the rest of your life, you old codger?

Kit: that's exactly it, mate, i have NO CLUE. i just sorta stumbled into Game of Thrones and have been there ever since. i was so intense the whole time i forgot to laugh once and my face froze in that position forever, from all the promised Winter snow, snow get it? i can never laugh again, my face is a permanent gurn, no wonder i'm so sad and melancholy all the time. my jaw has fixed. i'm feeling jittery and directionless, i'm an aimless agnostic of nature.

Kate: okay but you ain't gonna top yourself, right boy? do i need to come over there? where are you?

Kit: top-secret location. it's brilliant, it's a rehab but it's really a bed-n-breakfast. they say i'm mentally-ill, but i've always known i'm mental. this is more a case of i need to fooking SLEEP! so i rented a villa in that part of Los Angeles where all the dried lakes are, a little twee white house covered by one pine tree covered by one palm tree, and i use this space to SLEEP FOR A MONTH. really! that's all i do! that is what i need right now.

Kate: okay, but did you need that expensive house to do this?

Kit: i do nothing all day. Dr. Drew is here to keep me company with his big words. the Trivago Guy is here and he keeps staring and smiling at me. and Andy Richter's here, desperate to replace James Corden's car karaoke with throwback Seinfeld, Andy paces the hallways at all hours with a nervous grinfuck on his pudgy face. and i see Conan O'Brien slink into the secret room at 1AM when it's supposed to be lights-out and everyone---including that woke pink nurse---is supposed to be long fast asleep.

Kate: who's in the room?

Kit: Sophie Turner. don't worry, babe, nothing's going on, she hasn't turned me, Sophie's helping me like she helps everyone, she's a registered nurse you know, not many do, she keeps it on the down-low being so young. she's making quite the killing---i mean money, not medieval---doing her slap therapy, she slaps guys for a hefty handsome chunk of change. the men say it works, but only if she does it, only if she's the precise practitioner. after awhile they don't even notice that they're doing it without the alcohol! Dr. Drew is both pleased and suspicious of her methods.

Kate: Sophie's a beautiful girl, but that tattoo of hers mars her beauty.

Kit: don't worry, i let her have it!

Kate: *gasp* what do you mean?

Kit: for teling the world that it was I who caused the Starbucks incident. this was an international scandal and incident! well it wasn't me, i was too drunk to have caused it. i got her back. meaning i slapped her back and face---she wanted me to, just to clear that up. safe words and the like, she had an early flight so she gifted me a bottle of booze with one of those ridiculously-long giraffe-glass necks. it was a gift, it'd be rude of me not to accept it.

Kate: you're keeping us on the down-low, right babe? not telling the papers?

Kit: absolutely. no. absolut. especially the London ones. you know my brain cracked and i had a nervous breakdown RIGHT after my appearance on SNL. i don't know if it was seeing my wife there for the first time in ages, or joking how i'd be carving jewelry and beach seashell necklaces by the shore to make ends meet after---knowing in my head i wasn't joking, that's why that joke landed, it was so realistic---or what.

Kate: I know what it was: Pete Davidson. he's enough to make ANYONE crazy. crazy like him. he actually shares his crazy with you till you start to not notice the difference and start thinking nothing's wrong and everything you do is normal. i got out of there with the skin of my teeth, and my facial on my face still intact and steam-dried, and only one tooth missing from excessive eating of sugary cereals.

Kit: gotta go, Drew is calling me, we're gonna play seashell-telephone together on the beach tonight by the lit palm tree just the twee two of us.

Marie Kondo in a kimono is being interviewed:

Wolf: so Marie, a housewife from a New Jersey tenement is claiming you stole her idea of folding things upright. she says SHE should be the one with the conglomerate. what is your response?

Marie Kondo: i'm losing my broken accent for this one so i make myself perfectly and unequivocally clear: FUCK YOU. that's as plain-Japaness as i can put it. damn Bump voters! lemme guess, she has pink rollers in her hair and smokes a cigarette her bosom the ashtray? she's a curtain-twitcher even though she's surrounded on all sides by red brick wall. the Japanese invented the fan shape, you know this, right? it's in all our umbrellas. take a step back: who do you side with? me who comes from the ancient Japanese ancestry of advice stone-wells and wisdom wellsprings and wellwishers and stone-washers by the rainbow-trout streams of the Edo period!!?...or some bitch.

at the hospital, a vegetable Alex Trebek receives a visitor...tho he can't know it...

Vic Mignogna bends down and holds Trebek's hand.

Vic: i'm sorry for everything! also, the bouquet of flowers and assorted roses i bought you at the corner shop got lost in the rain, sorry aboot that.

Holzhauer: you went puddle-jumping?

Vic: it wasn't my fault, that was the '80s where anything went! besides all i did was love them! i mean not like that i love the Christian way.

Holzhauer: what is Christian rap? like REALLY what is it? what is its reason for being? why, just why? like Anything On Ice. i listened to some DC Talk i found in my son's contraband backpack from school and i have to tell you, those were some of the most disturbing lyrics i've ever read and laid eyes on. and i come from Vegas the place where ice is still new.

Ken Jennings: buddy, don't touch his hand. not my rules, the doctors say the back of his hand is still tender from all the pricks and lines.

Holzhauer: Alex Trebek did much pimp-slapping in his youth...on the mean streets of Canada...finally caught up with him...

Vic: oooh, i am so very sorry. i don't want to cause anyone any more pain, except all my prosecutors and accusers, they are all liars.

Alex starts to come to. his eyes widen a bit and his wry smile emerges again under his mustache as if he never had his mustache shaved off.

Alex: *weakly* you, Vic? oooh hello, i thought i told that nurse with the big boobs to deliver me some nog, leave the whiskey in it. then i slapped her on her ass. or as we Canadians say it, arse. i thought i had ordered an Italian dessert...both meanings. three scoops of vanilla ice cream on top of my filet mignon. but all i got was some anime freak.

Ken's eyes widen as well.

Ken: whoa! change of plans. YOU! blondie woth the spiked tips from the '80s, keep touching his hand!

Vic: uh...well...okay...but first you have to promise to tell me to my face in the next five minutes that my hair is THROWBACK '80s.

Holzhauer: apologize to the man, blondie! i mean you, Ken.

at The Weather Channel:

Goody Paul: this Father's Day, Mother Nature wins!...…...nope, sorry, no, can't do this anymore, reading this copy is beneath me.

Maria LaRosa bats her eyelash from across the world in the Yucatan. which creates a strong sexualized sirocco.

Goody Paul: okay, i'll continue to read the copy and do my part to save the world.

President Bump at his latest rally now only streamed by drones with weird crosses on them out of Alex Jones's '70s-shag-carpet basement:

Bump: so the Academy Awards suck, right? i hate them! they have NEVER thought to honor me for all i've done for the world! i mean not even a participation trophy? i'd take that participation trophy and frame it on my wall. despite how they hate me i will still watch the women play soccer. i could never play soccer on account of my San Antonio Spurs. that's why all my Cabinet members are Acting, cos i love to act!

the crowd is crazy, not goes crazy.

Bump: there's a lot of concentration happening in this room, in our little camp.

LaVar Ball in the First Take Studios from a remote: hello, mon ami, mon cheri! i'm coming to you from the action. hey, there's a dude in my shot, i'll kick his ass out of my shot using no hands! he's dribbling the soccer ball on his chest and chin and thinks he's so cool. he's climbing the lamppole next to that Illuminati Triangle glass art museum! don't worry, you don't need security, LaVar Ball IS security, i'll usher him out in due course. now where were we? i look up Poppy Montgomery for that Google Nest commercial and no hits, turns out it was Aly Wagner! do you have these problems, too? hey, i support the women! i bought a whole red case of 24 Cokes to support Women's Soccer. it was blue and white, too! don't front me!

Molly Qerim: so...……………..are you gonna apologize to me or what? i've been waiting here patiently ten minutes after work at 9AM. that HR quip wasn't a joke, Q don't play, i've had to deal with men my WHOLE life as you can see by looking at me.

Jalen Rose: i'd like to give you that home run, wifey, i'd take you, Ball, like you were a basketball in my magic hands, but...i mean look at the size of this dude! he's like The Hulk, even has that macabre Hulk grin to his teeth. Black Hulk. i mean was this guy a wrestler? i mean a fake wrestler.

LaVar: i did nothing wrong, sweetgums, switch gears, i'm a mechanic by trade. i fix up cars and relationships. i need a real American job now that the Facebook Series is kaput and it don't look like that reparation check will be in my postbox any time soon.

Dirg: i like what LaVar did here, his spokesperson is a woman, very sneaky keen sly and coy, Lavar, you go, boy, you playin' dem games.

Molly: focus, LaVar, my next question to you is above your pay-grade.

Kenan Thompson: great, now i can't play LaVar Ball anymore on SNL. what the hell am i gonna do for work?

Molly: oh good, goodness, thank goddess, Tiger's coming in studio right now to bail us all out. never thought i'd say those words again. what's the haps, Tiger?

Tiger Woods: Pebble Beach was the breaking point, literally. i knew i couldn't compete with other manly men when i saw that dude break his steel golf-club over his knee like that.

Dirg: yep yep yep. there is no force in the universe as strong as a white man's anger. not even a roided-up black man with a wood bat.

Max: why was it overcast the entire four days? the sun didn't shine once!

Tiger: threw me off. my game. my red shirt wasn't refracting the heat. the red color appeared bloody and orange. save it for the Irish Major next month, weather!

Stephen A Smith: *on the phone secretly in studio* Drake? you do me and i do you, remember poutine patna? you get me global entry and the whole Masai thing goes away...what? the camera's on me?...hello, globe!

Tiger: i was sharing an Obec Carmel caramel-colored bungalow over a cliff with Lindsey Vonn, we're tryna rekindle.

LaVar: yeah yeah! i've been over there! i was your mechanic for a job over there.

Tiger: mechanic?

Lavar: yep yep yep, your mechanic of the bathroom, the plumber! i was helping Lindsey hold the portable showerhead to her body to wash her off, she was having difficulties standing with all her ski injuries where she wrecks her body for months at a time trying to crazy-jump off white mountains. i took pictures of her like this, and video...for posterity i mean for physical therapy, to show the doctors of her progress...

Tiger: how would you gauge her? i mean her hopes for recovery?

LaVar: perfect 10.

Molly: we got OJ Simpson, LaVar Ball, and Bill Cosby on The View next on this channel at the next studio over. talk about The Three Stooges...

Whoopi: where are the real black men? where is Dennis Rodman?

The View is shown under red lights:

Whoopi: i mean how do they allow these people to still have twitter pages? OJ thinks the world wants to hear his hot takes on...things, pop culture and stuff...

Meghan McCain: not even I do.

Dirg: yeah but i mean, only OJ knows for sure about Khloe Kardashian's paternity, so only he can share this news and bit of information and add to the grand pop-culture conversation online. add his piece, do his part. it's all one big Hollywood Illuminati conglomerate.

Bella Thorne with a tissue in her hand: you're just jealous that i'm hot and young and nubile and nobody has EVER asked you for a nude your entire life, Whoopi! this is so disappointing, i looked up to you, i almost bcame a nun cos of you. you have all those young suicides on your bloody hands now!

Whoopi: kid i don't care about suicides, i almost died recently! okay, i'm sorry, i snapped, a bit of misdirected anger on my part, i'm still sore that i was too sore to host the Oscars.

Joy Behar with her perm: the truth is, they never asked you to. i bring joy to the world.

Bella: it turns out after the paternity test...i'm really Jeff Bezos's all makes sense now...

Doryce: knucklehead!

Dirg: *sleeping, woken up unanticipated* huh wha?

Doryce: you did it again, numbskull! the gardeners! do you have no shame? they told me all about you. you leave a heavythick-clear big plastic bag of poo for them to find? is that some troubled Nazi sign? a passive-aggressive warning shot?

Dirg: what? no, you have it all wrong. Gladyce says she gets sick when the shitbag is left inside in the kitchen trashcan so i take it out, i was doing you a courtesy, you probably got an extra vulva-lick out of what i did, you should be thanking me. i just happened to throw it out on the same spot where the Mexicans lawnmower.

Doryce: the gardeners don't take that sign as benignly as you do. you must always be aware of your surroundings, always thinking what the less-fortunate are thinking about the same situation, about you, about seeing a sack of shit in their path...

Doryce: Gladyce dear, you look positively ragged!

Gladyce: *yawning* been burning the midnight oil. can you get me a cuppa at The Store, dear?, i am fleshed-out and fatigued. a coupla cuppas, a whole case of coffee.

Doryce: sure, hon, right away. oh there are so many places i wish we could visit together, things i need to take you, things i need to show you...but alas i've been banned from them all. i wish we could burn the midnight-oil together hopping on bar countertops at the Cowgirl Winery. or go back in time to the first-ever bathing machine, you know i was the first-ever woman to take a nude selfie inside a bathing machine and post it online. when i got out, the other Victorian prudes golf-clapped politely behind the men's backs when they weren't watching and each flashed me a wry smile.

Dirg: shoulda flashed you something else. namely, their vulvas. what ever happened to Midnight Oil? all those Australian bands got lost in the Outback...

Laertus: *checking the scores on his Pear watch* hello Llywarch, long time no see nor conception.


Laertus: it's gonna be okay, i think, it's reached a stable tipping point. critical mass calmed. you know how on Instagram, whenever you don't type with someone for like two months, when they haven't posted anything in two months, you always assume the worst. you figure this person has committed suicide.

Llywarch: um , yeah, i know the feeling, BELIEVE me i know the feeling!

Eye Luggage: okay, playtime's over, Larry, let's get down to business. anime roundup, go.

Laertus: oh i love that commercial with the Chinese kid lost in America, unable to speak. the one thing that brings the kids together, the one thing that unites them over the span of the entire globe, the one thing all cultures understand, is My Hero Academia!!!

Dirg: are you still off Chinese food?

Laertus: not only that, i'm only gonna eat Muslim food from now on to spite them!

Eye: there is still so much Ballykissangel to talk about. the discussion will never end.

Laertus: i feel this and you. feel it in my lovely bones.

Eye: there is a real moral dilemma with Assumpta's death and the granting of Last Rites.

Laertus: i know what you mean, what is one to do in such a sticky situation? Father Clifford loves Assumpta so much that he doesn't want to see her burn in Hell forever. and yet it was her explicit wish NOT to be granted Last Rites, so isn't he honoring her and loving her more by granting HER wish and not God's?

Eye: love ultimately is about respect. NOT getting the Rites was Assumpta's fuck-you to the Church she despised, it was her very being, it was the action that would define her everlastingly and identify her hard-won weariness, her apathy stance on things, her essence, her truth, she believed in her nonbelief. stripping her of her right to die as she wanted was stripping her of her.

Dirg: this is above my pay-grade. and God's. and Father Clifford GOT no sticky situations, that was the problem. there WAS no stripping. he might as well have loved an imaginary Big Red Dog for all the loving he got back.

Eye: Twilight Zone The Movie, go.

Laertus: i promised my pop i would never watch this film cos of the accident. and that's really where you have to begin and end.

Dirg: Landis thought he would slip in that National Lampoon joke in the Vietnam section and THAT is what would be remembered from the movie all these years later.

Laertus: sure, there's the shock of the cartoon in the opening night drive...

Dirg: ...with the real Ghostbuster. that cartoon was more shocking than any of Ralph Bakshi's obvious cartoons. also the cartoon in that weird house, that cartoon wasn't shocking, the shock was that Bart Simpson's voice came from that weird-looking girl!

Laertus: the thing that is truly scary forever and life everlasting about this film is the scariness of an unanticipated death. i mean let's just take a step back and realize the situation here: this poor veteran character actor and the even poorer Vietnamese kids who were just trying to make it in Hollywood to please their parents and get a little spending money for all their parents' sacrifice to get to this country, the long journey.

Eye: kid actors shoulder a particular profound pain inside them they will never share on social media.

Laertus: the actor is following this script where he's being taken on a train to a Nazi concentration camp, that is the last image he sees on Earth, that's Hell-on-Earth enough, then he really is in the afterlife, what is going on in his consciousness?

Dirg: i wouldn't be certain those two innocent souls would greet him where he went. he most-assuredly had some hidden skeletons in his closet, but i'm praying for his eternal soul all the same. karma can skip over accidents, you know.

Eye: the whole thing is stomach-churning and nightmarish. but not in the whimsical Twilight Zone way, in the real horror-of-life-and-afterlife way. Landis is bound for Purgatory, we can all see.

Dirg:  if there's one ray of light to come from this garish ghoulish ghastly tragedy, this did greenlight the '80s CBS Twilight Zone series, which for my money is better than the original, fight me.

Laertus: *loud sigh* you don't have any money. and you never will. you will borrow from me forever. still, still, all these years later and for you it's still too soon.

Cotard continues their conversation with Velvetta in the morning velvet sky by the same Church bush just the two of them.

Cotard: i wish Goddess had made it so we could close our ears. you watched the tape?

Velvetta: every minute of it, sir. it was scary as you said, unsettling.

Cotard: right? there's me in my white robe, thinking i have my whole life planned out, it's all figured out, i give my body to celibacy and my spirit will be handsomely rewarded for it, and i make that creaky walk up the two marble steps in the carpet to the Temple altar, no music, just eerie silence as i procession. that Temple is a satanic temple, man. it's dark and gloomy and smoky without there being any incense urn. if you look up no light peeks through, it's a grey stained-glass triangle. a dark eye. from the outside the roof appears as a profound pretty petal of pointed flowers, but inside you see the true architecture: sharp blades, huge-hilted hitting carving knives to the heart. Hinata cannot protect you here. there i am, a freshfaced ingenue like i'm entering onto the set of my first Spielberg picture, but it's really my first porno. i have no idea what i'm doing with my life, but i don't betray these emotions to myself by showing my shiteating grin to the outside world inside. Codrus looks happily through my eyes into my long soul. he admonishes me for doubting and says i'm doing the right thing and laughs under his fetid breath. i don't believe him but i don't believe my hesitation, either, that must be the devil tempting me to sin and masturbate in my cell when i get back at night, i must resist Old Redtail!

Velvetta: i'm suddenly hungry for Red Lobster and i don't even know what that is. what does the Devil look like?

Cotard: good question. i see a mirror. scary, scary, that ceremony is scary, cos it's so permanent. there's no turning back after that ritual, you can't take your tunic off again! you think you're doing the right thing...after all those years of cramped study in a cell instead of going out to play...but what really is right and wrong? can you ask the butterfly who flies past you in the monastery orchard? it's all out there on display for the world to see! my Final Vows are posted on youtube! i don't get it, this is vital information! this is my truth! this is THE truth! there are no comments under it and hardly any views!

Velvetta: that's cos it's an unlisted video.

Cotard: blast! this is educating the public! anyway

Velvetta: yes, anyway. i understand where you're coming from now, Mr. Cotard. but what are we supposed to do now?

Cotard: FAKE IT! i hope that's something you learn about when you get older and utilize throughout your adult life. we'll just pretend we're master and acolyte and pretend to do what he says. kay? i'll get you through this, until you get me through this.

Codrus: come, brother, cease your dawdling. i have something to show you. i can still teach you things, i am the older bro after all.

Cotard: only by alternative math.

Codrus: come inside the Church and i'll show you how to enter the Temple. i'm sure you've long forgotten how with your painfully-obvious extensive travels to avoid me.

Sinphony: *sallow eyes* you're never gonna break me, brat! my lord is the true way.

Sinphony picks Velvetta up roughly by her shoulder and bruises it like fresh fruit.

Velvetta: you need to learn some spells to break you from the one you're under, girl. i don't care what you think of me, or that you do, by the end of this, i hope you DO beat me up! cos then and only then can i show you the way to save us both.

Monday, June 17, 2019


and alien love, too

1. love is made of many components. what are your top three components of love?

like this last week's Hunter x Hunter, aye? the globules that make up all life. the koala at first thought it all meant nothing, no afterlife, life was dust, dust to dust. but then he met a strange ginger girl...

1. Triscuits, cos everyone should experience at least one Summer of Triscuit before you die.

2. self-sacrifice. only when you allow your partner to be the best version of herself do you really love her. of course then she'll realize she's been saddled with your broke ass her entire life and leave you to become the Oprah of the Toronto Raptors. denying yourself love so she can love is the greatest love of all.

3. speaking of Whitney Houston, you need a good love song to keep you company. you need to hear "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" on one hot summer night with your maybe-beloved under a cobblestone bridge by a lake in London. and as the oncoming double-decker bus swerves to miss you two you realize the bus was all in your head---it was really a plush double-decker-bus souvenir keychain---and that the bus was really the manifestation of your anxiety.

then you and her walk uphill to her house in the shandy shanties which is just a hostel on a European map with no parents nor adult supervision ever, and constant screaming. you go upstairs by the creaky case to watch another Morrissey video: "The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get".

she bemoans the insanely-long song titles, tho she says she does admire the music. you kiss her, she kisses you, and you both bemoan the little kid girl in the video with the crown who really gets treated poorly by Morrissey.

2. for you what is good sex and what is great sex?

good: facial
great: swallow

3. in long-tern unions do you:
a) expect love to grow over time as the union unfolds?
b) need to have immediate attraction, infatuation, and feelings or excitement in order to enter into a long-term union?

take it from me, the excitement game never works out in the end. you try every day to top yourself, do something bigger than the trick you pulled yesterday, and you get deflated and exhausted and burned by the marriage's first year. when you start getting bored with each other, you realize you were just a pain to put up with from the start and get even more depressed.

or take it from Alice from Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore or the tv show Alice. people found Ellen Burstyn grating and Linda Lavin engaging, but only one won the Oscar. can you believe Linda Lavin was 40 when that show started in the '70s? now THAT's a milf, even though she never had children in real life. second-chance love is real, just don't choose the cowboy who fills bullets for a living.

i thought all my unions would last forever: The UK, the European Union. or EU as i liked to call it, my pet name for it, i'd send it money by wire through Western Union. i thought i'd unfurl my new Union Jack and wave it with two hands in my room. but alas everything changes, everything eventually breaks apart. anyway the scientists say human extinction in 2050, right? so, you know, watch old tv on tape and have a good time while you still can.

4. you are away on your dream vacation…

are you alone with someone? who?

yes. my cock. my pet chicken Filbert. and the Trivago Guy.

do you want to have a hookup with a sexy stranger? is the sexy stranger female, male, gender-fluid, bigender, transgender

it's Carmen Sandiego. she's always been bisexual---a true bisexual on tv---she just couldn't reveal that when she was on The History Channel. she wants me to drink her fluids. the thing is, she's not exactly physically sexy anymore, the wear and tear of constantly being on the road has turned her face into a giant prune, but the drive and mystery are still there in full force, she deliberately lost her own corded-telephone number. she still wants to rule the world. i take the brim of her long snakey fedora and throw it down into the Pyrenees, which upsets her very much. a crocodile hands it back to her. i tell her going forward she's got the best 30 years of my life...

would you rather spend all day doing your favorite vacation activity OR spend all night having kinky sex?

Carmen wants the kinky stuff now more than ever at her age, and i ask her if she likes to watch. so I masturbate, that's my favorite activity all-time. and then we watch Alice reruns on Nick At Nite as Carmen regales me under the covers with tales of her Nickelodeon days...

5. is hot steamy all-your-wildest-fantasies-come-true sex more likely to happen with your current lover or a sexy, no-strings-attached stranger??

a stranger, but my mom always says a stranger is just a friend you haven't met, so that cancels that out. take it from me, actualizing a Hollywood ending is EXTREMELY hard. my current lover, she's the best. but you can't have hot sex in a tropical climate, that cancels that out, you can only have hot sex in Iceland. Bjork told me that once...she then proceeded to go all Coyote Ugly on the bar countertop, dancing till dusk turned to dawn. you know how many shots she had that night? zero.

BONUS describe your hot steamy all-your-wildest-fantasies-come-true sex: CLICK HERE

and yes, that IS Princess Di


Friday, June 14, 2019



* it's essential...i's the name of a territory out of Conan the Barbarian

* narrator: you know that thing?
Phoenix: who, me? i'm in the car now.
narrator: buckle up or you'll have to pay a fine with the bad cop with the mustache grilling you under his pen flashlight and then you'll have to move back in with your mom cos you can't pay the costs and have to make an embarrassing call to JG Wentworth to get your damn money now while your mom is doing your smelly laundry with pink curlers in her hair and she slides the laundry basket under your bunny-slippered feet.
Phoenix: that sounds like a nice life to me.
narrator: you'll never get another date again...

* that girl would have been Beyoncé...she looks like Beyonce, too...

* i'm a white dude with long blond hair, so i'm either a Cobain-wannabe guitar-player or a surfer

* narrator: what is the thing you want to do forever?
Phoenix: write. i've discovered that writing is my thing. for better or worse, it's the only thing i care about, it's my therapy and my curse and my weight around my neck. it's hard and satisfying at the same time. i fear it and embrace it and love it and hate it. it's prevented me from having normal relationships yet that is the very thing which enriches my writing.
narrator: sounds like you got it all figured out, you don't need me, why am i even here?
Phoenix: you should do anime with that voice. there's gonna be a lot of work opening up with the whole Vic thing.
narrator: you know the one thing humans can't live without?
Phoenix: a passion for something.
narrator: no, water.

* narrator: what keeps you up early? and late for that matter?
Phoenix: masturbation. it's like coffee for me, can't start my day without it.
narrator: *double take* oh. i heard you had given up coffee, i thought you were gonna say you switched to tea.

* narrator: what would make you sick if someone else did it first?
Phoenix: Choose Your Own Adventure. i swear i came up with that first but i was born too late and RA Montgomery stole my glory. i hear he's a nice guy tho and is in his own feud with Edward Packard so it's all Essentia water under the bridge. Drake made Canada cool, like United-States-level-cool, which isn't easy to do. also, Elon Musk. at first everyone wants to be Elon Musk but then you realize Elon Musk is a complete asshole but then again he wouldn't be where he is if he WEREN'T a complete asshole so therein lies the tradeoff and the rub of irony.
narrator: the correct answer is lozenges.

* narrator: what do you want to do forever?
Phoenix: blog.
narrator: what scares you?
Phoenix: me.
narrator: eventually that thing that's yours will be done by someone else.
Phoenix: yes but there is nothing new under the sun, don't you read the Bible?
narrator: i'm an atheist sci-fi nerd, the only bible i read is the ALF Season 2 bible.

* narrator: do you have a permit to create steampunk on this NYC roof?
Phoenix: chill, dreams don't need permits. no, like i said i've never met Cuba. no selfies.
narrator: don't sing opera while driving.
Phoenix: hey, you already admonished me for texting, can't a millennial have any fun anymore?

* narrator: someone's gonna be first.
Phoenix: but i shall be last.

* Steph Curry: i ruined the game.
KD: and i ruined my Achilles.
Mahomes: i got robbed. it should have been me, not more Tom Brady. the Brady thing is too much, it's quickly turning into a Winklevii situation, you know?

* only marathons run at night count, there's swimming and then there's Gattaca swimming, but can you do an onion volcano?, the electric violin is not a real violin, bulls like red they just don't like you, boxing is dead and makes you dead and only counts if you get into the Boxing Hall of Fame

* narrator: someone's gonna stop time.
drummer: Time doesn't exist. anyone can stop Time.
narrator: …

* all kidding aside, this motivated me more than any commercial before or since. this was a Nick-Nurse-level pep talk. it really got me going, made me want to do good, write something brilliant, eat a whole pizza in one bite, something bold. I AM BOLD!!!


happy weekend, my babies

NEXT TWO DAYS: i REALLY need for Rory to win. to be good while Tiger is good, too, you know? both good at the same time, we need that real matchup again. you can call Rory Irish Phil, he doesn't mind, he told me. besides, all Irishmen are called Phil anyway.

TOMORROW: okay, so McDonald's is offering McDuh from all around the world, which saves on frequent flyer-miles so i appreciate you MickeyDee's, good lookin' out. not everyone can be an Instagram Traveler. cheesy fries from New Zealand i'll save for Zealand Hunk from Ballykissangel's dying-ember years, the Spanish Quarter Pounder is just a quarter-pounder with a different cheese, the Chicken Sandwich from Canada has bacon but no maple syrup---and a tomatillo is just a tomato. Stroopwaffel McFlurry, that's the kind of dessert you have just before 18 holes of miniature golf.

Wednesday, June 12, 2019


Cotard: BROTHER! unhand the girl!

Codrus, who wears the exact Cotard robe of everything Cotard is wearing, laughs head upturned.

Codrus: more more! more mores! *laughs*

Cotard: why must you follow me all around the galaxy? why can't i have my own solo adventure?

Codrus: cos it wouldn't sell, it'd be like Arya's sail voyage. oh brother, it pains me to know you hate me so, i can't stand to be away from you for an extended period. Mama would be so cross with us, she just wants to see her boys get along, for the sake of reality.

Cotard: you have crystallized anger in the universe, made it a sharp-pointed comet. you come to this one place in the boondocks of space where all yout shit will be tolerated and you will be hailed as a god.

Codrus: well why not? we ARE gods after all. what's the fun if we don't throw our wondrous weight around. if we don't constantly bop these pathetic paltry measly humans on their puny heads---like ice goalkeepers---with all their stupid smallminded soulsucking rules. it's our job nay duty to keep slapshotting pucks their way till one of their artificial saline tits bursts. pressure bust pipes. it pays to be selective. what is a taboo if not the ultimate excitement.

Cotard: life isn't only about pleasure.

Codrus: of course it is. we deities neeed to stretch our legs and blow to keep the universe spinning. we are too static on high, we live too much in our extraterrestrial towers, we need some terra-firma powers every once in awhile, live like the Romans did! you remember that time. we need to experience everything, not just know everything,

Cotard: you have it wrong, as you've always had: we don't know everything, we are everything. and as such we have a rapturous responsibility.

Codrus: it's time for me to have some fun. break the reins, bite them off. gods remain to break the rules, such as they are, and make new rules, for then to break. we're gods, we can do whatever the fuck we want *smiles suspiciously*

Cotard: you have too much fun. you're always having too much fun.

the ginger girl stays quiet, eyes lowered, kneeling, but she is not mute. her mouth trembles and her lower lip quakes with unspoken words of mutterance.

Cotard: have you named this poor innocent soul of the fairer and more-just sex?

Codrus: Sinphony. get it? *laughs* sin is phony. i rebranded her to suit my current needs.

Cotard: she trusted you like a father. she was an orphan at the whim of your strong hand. helpless and alone, abandoned and more vulnerable than a pygmy fox. her magic could have gone in either direction, but of course you squandered her last bit of sunshine under your juicer arm. you could have had a valuable traveling partner for life and lives, an altruistic asset on your journey of self-discovery, a person to show you another way, the female way, the softer way, the loving way, not the dirty way. but you were all too male.

a gale of grievous gravity blows the large windows down and open for all the townsfolk to peep inside.

Cotard: with her always being younger than you, she could have made you see the world and universe with fresh fanciful wondrous eyes, she could have been the drops for your languid cynical viewholes.

Codrus: my eyes are black holes. they saw it all. the people. her bounce and her filled mouth on top of the caterpillar of pillows. that sound wasn't the wind. i love how there's a bed in the middle of this church where the pews should be. it's even more fun in the Temple let me tell ya. this is the assertion of true power.

Cotard: *teeth and cara and carriage cringed* disgusting. shameful. Mama should throw you in the vortex of Hell RIGHT NOW and throw away the skeleton key. how can you live with yourself? she's only 12!!!

Codrus: i live eternally within myself. love is love. i'm showing her the way of the spirit. this town lives in an age when this sort of thing was frowned upon but acted upon impulsively behind closed moat doors all the time, the stone grey castle was quite the carousal carousel when the heavy gates were upturned. there are too many beige scrolls nailed onto heavy doors here to count. what's the big deal? see, brother, i know what humans really are: they're trash. you seem to want to constantly ennoble trash, like you're a weak-willed servant eunuch. learn from my Sinphony and get a better-smelling hand, a hand that wafts of perfume.

Roger Federer: what. it wasn't my fault. did you see those red winds? it was fucking Dune out there! red clay got right in my eyes, i need my precious eyes to make pasta! why the hell didn't they reschedule? i missed my opportunity to give Nadal a beatdown on dat ass! i'm pissed off about this, this will be my last best chance to actually beat that banana-shorts-pickin' baboon at his own game! don't get me wrong, i love the man, he's like a brother to me, but NOT when he's 2 AWAY from my record! my precious record! that's too hot to handle in the kitchen! i mean what will happen to me when i eventually LOSE this record!!? what will my identity be? it was all wrapped up in 20. i will be shattered into a billion pieces of eggshell. i'll just be---GASP!!!---another tennis player.

Djokovic: i feel your red pain, bro. same thing happened to me. i've actually defeated Rafa at the French Open and you know what i got for that? nothing, big fat zero. didn't get a trophy or Grand Slam Medal The Size Of An Aztec Wheel or nuthin'!!! nuffin. don't worry, even if, i mean WHEN, Nadal surpasses you you'll still be considered the best. i mean when you think of the best player of all time, you just don't think of Rafa, despite him having the numbers, he'll always just be the clay-court specialist. some like me still consider Rafa the little boy from the isle of Majorca like he's Gon from Hunter x Hunter or something. now when I beat Rafa's record, okay THEN THEN, I will take the rightful place at G.O.A.T.!!! and it shall be legit!!!

Fed: thank you. people will forget about Rafa…

Djoker: ...and they'll forget about you, Rog...*Djokovic laughs The Joker Laugh*

Kevin Durant in a black hoodie: that's Kevin with an I not a O, i'm not Looney. so i patented my dance move---that ballet-toe tap breakdancing move---and i've been performing it on basketball courts around the world. but it just isn't the same. i'm on the basketball court i so dearly clearly love, but it's during the halftime show only. i've become a During Durant. i've opened up a chain of urban theatres---following in the footsteps of everyone's mentor Magic Johnson---to provide arts and culture to the inner city. to scare the youth into acting. you should see the inside: we have nice stone stools of red circles for all y'all butts to sit on, each spaced evenly the same amount apart.

in the audience: Jalen Rose: YOU WANT TO FUCK DRAKE!!?
Molly Q: shhhhhhhhhhhhhh! not so loud!

Durant: i play the part of Shylock each night. the kids get Shy-Guy Fry-Guy Pac-Man McDonald's toys if their parents can prove the kids went the whole show without peeing their pants. went without wenting. i play off a roving Antonio i pick out of the audience different audiences each night different towns. i want to experience how the other half lives, you know? fate dealt me a devastating hand, a blow that was not pleasurable. i am fucked, my career is over. i was played by heels, i was strung up and along by my heel, i just wanted to play. i am a Greek tragic figure, i listened to the Chorus online, got up all in their mentions, i couldn't control the chatter. now what am i? what is my identity? i'm just another bumhead like Drake. there are some things which money cannot cure. like love. a mother's love. love of the game.

Jack Dorsey in surfer cargs shorts: love is a game. hey Kevin, yo Kevon, i saw you in those Google commercials and you were great! mind doing a series of ads for us at Twitter?

Durant: sir the answer is no and you betta back the fuck away from me right now don't get in the path of my crutches cos imma cut a bitch. hey, when you think of the name Antonio, is it an Italian name or a Spanish name to you?

Ray Liotta: THE FUCK! a FUCKING TURKEY replaced me! yeah that's right, an animated turkey replaced me for the smoking ads! are you fucking kidding me. i'm bout to get Harlem-gangster in this bitch, that wasn't acting! let's go to the Bronx right now to settle things. they told me i couldn't act out of a paper KFC bag. i was counting on this campaign to refinance and eventually buy that white Hollywood Hills mansion you see in my smoking commercial! i was an actor playing an actor! where am i gonna get work now? i haven't auditioned for anything in 20 years! they said my face was rubbery like a chicken's. i thought that was a good thing, like Jim Carrey. i'll show you chicken! who's the chicken now!!? *knocks over the fish tank in his office* that goldfish got bumped off mob-style!

professor at Obec College: today's lesson: repeats. you know? i don't mean the repeats when there's not a new show and the season is over, i mean i've never ONCE in my life ever seen a film or a tv show i have already watched TWICE. never. never ever. once i see it i see it, you know? i feel it's offensive to my brain if i told it i was watching this thing AGAIN, like my brilliant mind couldn't intake it the first time, it was too difficult to deduce, catch, comprehend. there's so something dreadfully wasting-time about watching something twice.

Gladyce on the phone: Jill what spell shenanigans have you been nose in? i see your hidden hand everywhere out there in the world controlling things, i see your imprint bending world events to your whim.

Jill: Conan the Barbarian will, pashaw.

Gladyce: now dear, what are you doing? up there at the Homecountry Headquarters? what Motherland mischief are you pussy-deep in?

Jill: what. Brexit is now on Halloween, *cackles* i love it. i made the first match England vs. Scotland, heeeheeteehee. and the U.S. women beat Thailand 13-0. 13? hmmmm? favorite number, that entire U.S. Women's team are full of such nubile tasty-morsel babes ripe for the picking, i mean that's a readymade coven waiting to happen right there! two covens! such soft flesh on green-stained knees. we got the next three generations of witches on that one team to fill out our supplies, be our attack-and-defense army, carry things on when we're in our 300s.

Doryce: never trust a recruiter who's TOO into her job.

Abby Wambach: my head has been responsible for more deciding four-year-winning goals than any woman in history. and yet they wanted me to get a "more respectable" haircut for the photoshoot cos they said my shaved-sides punk-long-bangs was "too gay" and they needed to sell me to Middle America.

Jill: *smiles surly* pashaw! hogwash! what is this, the Middle Ages? you the lover of classical music, you who would never sell her country out to North Korea. my dear Abby, i for one LOVE your hairstyle! i want to write you a letter sometime, you give such great advice. i love that you expressly shaved your head to show off that skull-n-crossbones tattoo you have planted right in the middle of your shaved head there, that is so beautiful. your head is so gorgeous, so nice and dome. we need to take back our cuntry. come, my dear, this way...

Doryce: well there's a lot of excitement here locally in Obec Woods this week. The U.S. Open is going on but i've been banned from ever setting foot on a golf course again after that golf-ball lake incident i did. and of course the final season of Big Little Lies is filming here and in Monterey and in Monterrey, Mexico but i've been banned from stepping foot on any film set involving hot nubile Hollywood actresses even those in their 30s, cos of what Jill did and my guilty-by-association. thanks, Jill! you're doing a bang-up job, hon. i stepped on the message. i HAVE been asked by my agent Taki to take the part offered to me in Little Big Lies, which is the porno of Big Little Lies, i'm thinking about it, mulling it over like Mueller.

Doryce: hey, dirtbag!

Dirg: *points at himself* me?

Doryce: quit napping, you lazy bum! you heard what i said!? i'm banned, we're gonna be living here with you two numbskulls now, it's four roommates all under the same roof, what could possibly go wrong!

Gladyce: dear, can we move to Britain before it's too late? i mean i want to be able to breathe fresh air again, i'm too old to have a compromised respiratory system...

Doryce: DIRG! the gardeners are coming over to fix the leak. it's a huge job, big bucks, they're going to be here awhile long time, it's a massive leak in the bathroom which will require taking apart a part of the corner and banging on pipes all night long. NOT your kind of sick banging you think every night when you masturbate alone.

Dirg: hey, if the Mexicans don't get in my way, i won't in their hair, we're cool like dat.

Doryce: the cats are getting squeamish from all the worms which slime their way from holes in the leak onto the bathroom tile at night, slug stomachs all slimy, the cats screech and try to eat the slugs, which is toxic. our poor kitties.

Gladyce: yes, dear, remember what i told you, we need to protect these kitties as if they were our very familiars, which they are.

Doryce: in the meantime, i'll try to distract myself with Woodies on the Wharf, which i'm also banned from. o what i would have had there, scoping all the surfer hardbodies! but one i miss the most. Bama. he told me in his recent intergalactic planetary interdimensional letter that he was a shaper now.

Gladyce: he lost the weight and is getting back into the gym?

Doryce: no, dear, Bama's a pro surfboard-shaper now. perhaps i will spot him on the beach from a tower among the crowd like a Gidget romcom. that would make this lonely girl's heart skip a beat from all the way back in the '50s. spying with my glass from the attic. that would give me a woodie.

Gladyce: i want to see you in your Gidget grass skirt, babes.

Dirg: want the rest of my leftover Chinese food?

Laertus: no. see the tears in my eyes? i'm putting a moratorium indefinitely on all Chinese food entering my belly.

Dirg: i want that 7-Eleven umbrella at the protest tho.

Eye Luggage: okay, anime roundup, go.

Laertus: OMG i got hearts in my eyes! did you see that move inward between the two mouths of Konan and Yahiko on this week's Shippuden last week? that was such a tantalizing scene! cos they go in for the kiss but the actual kiss isn't shown.

Dirg: and that pervert with the weird eyes Nagato is listening in the rain from outside, a man after my own heart. if you can't get some, film it and post it online for revenge.

Laertus: very filmic. it's so provocative cos it can imply many things: perhaps it's not just Konan's first kiss but her first sex.

Dirg: i like the gender roles, Konan the nurse bandaging up the real warior Yahiko, good. it's like Scott Baio always says proving Biden's a dirty rotten plagiarizer: women are the downfall of men. they've been laying the trap for us since the dawn of time. always trying to trick us, get us in trouble with our employer, when all men want to do is get laid. they're always out to ruin men's careers and lives, jealous of their power, success, and hard-won years of professional hard work.

Laertus: especially the pretty ones, right? the tv starlets. the untouchables, the unreachables? the ones Scott Baio personally himself laid the red carpet out for, er, well a blanket in the studio think Nicole Eggert ever wanted this? her fatness is the proof, she wouldn't be fat today if not for all this stress. something happened to Scott Baio, he wasn't like this in the '80s...

Dirg: Eggert's got egg on her face.

Eye: SPEAKING of pure love, i now take the floor for a long time to discuss my hard-won inner spiritual growth and nostalgia. Ballykissangel. i experienced this week two of the greatest days of my life, two days which could only be experienced by waiting decades to see these specific episodes of Ballykissangel back-to-back. there's something about marathoning a long-running show, you know? you experience all the momentum and inner-hard-work and script-counseling and story-bandaging and lovepaths and character arcs that built up over years in one fateful sitting that your mind explodes. i experienced the concentrated entirety of the innocent Nineties in one fell swoop of a messenger pigeon. the passages and the bangings. that first episode which sets the stage, oh my the scenery…

Laertus: Assumpta. what a lovely name, you remember that unique name forever, never to be repeated before or since on television, strange-pretty name for a once-in-a-lifetime beauty, a truly one-of-a-kind soul of a woman.

Eye: the show is very much the Irish Northern Exposure. the quirks of a small town hidden away from the rest of the world dropped into a secret location, a beautiful isle on Earth cut off from society. looking back on that first episode---the one with the flying confessional---i mean the townsfolk are having a heart attack over the FAX MACHINE! the fax machine is the height of modernization in these times which they curse. they want to always retain their quaint buttermaking farmer's appeal at Ballykiss, you know, real folk, Bally butter, without all those wires and buttons and flashing blue lights.

Laertus: my pop talked about this show all the time, it was broadcast on tape on PBS on Sunday nights.

Eye: yes yes! this was SUCH a PBS show! i fastforwarded to the LAST episode and it's just not the same---as the classics tend to be. the show should have ended when Assumpta dies and Father Pete looks achingly back at the town he now must abandon and fade to Playmobil credits, that should have been the series finale. i mean NOW you have this other priest-transfer who's built like Arnold, a New Zealand hunk calendar-model who would never in a billion years become a priest with a chiseled face and Viking locks like that. and Susannah Doyle clearly is meant to replace the irreplaceable Assumpta. that female cop might as well be Janine Turner herself.

Dirg: did you see Arnold get drop-kicked by that dude at the convention? Arnold got flashbacks to when he was in that fighting ring in Conan the Barbarian. that's his Vietnam. Arnold was at that moment contemplating life and thinking life and death were the same to him. i like how the Ballykissangel parish priests and cardinals are villains, they're all portrayed as grumpy old misers, very Pope Benedict Darth Sidious.

Eye: think about the innocence of that last Ballykissangel episode in 2001, just months before 9/11 when the world changed forever and would never be the same. the two topics in that episode which got the townsfolk in a twist on the edge of moral heart attacks were DIVORCE and MEDICAL CANNABIS. seriously, those were the two, those were giving the community fits and dividing them along blue and black lines. can a divorce remarry back into the Catholic church? even on a mountain when nobody was looking? is it okay to grow pot in your backyard for pain? and the sex.

Dirg: there never was any. the thing's called Ballykissangel and there was never once any shown kiss! some soap opera! just a lot of Mulder/Scully-esque UST season after season.

Eye: true. the New Zealand Power Ranger Priest and the Assumpta-wannabe are on the couch in a compromising situation---meaning fully-clothed sleeping near each other reading dueling books by the fireplace---when the parents come in to find them this way. the father remarks about how randy the priests at Ballykissangel are and always seem to be and that's it. THAT's PBS sex!

Dirg: Dervla Kirwan was everyone's first masturbation model, she certainly was mine...

Eye: Assumpta Fitzgerald: A Life Of Tragedy. she was THE walking embodiment of the Irish Goodbye, she WAS Irish Tragedy Herself in the flesh, the personification of a grand Greek James Joycean epic of sorrow. i mean here you have this beautiful young woman---a galactic green Gem sprung from the Green Land itself---with the whole world in front of her and she gets stuck in the dead-end job of tending pub at a small gem town. she has the smarts for anything, she could travel the world, she's University-educated and trained up for combat by the hard cobblestone streets. she's an atheist who fooking despises the Catholic Church, hates all it stands for. i later read the books to find out more of Assumpta's backstory never shown on the show, stretch out her bio a bit more. she as a little girl blamed the Church for the divorce of her parents who argued all the time and made her homelife childhood miserable. and that stuck with her as she blossomed into adulthood.

Laertus: always read books, and any underlying evidence.

Eye: she is an alone soul, lonely, she wanders this world aimlessly and angry. her sarcasm keeps others at bay, but the goofy lanky priest cracks through her armor. she FINALLY finds love, a man who is her soul mate, and the bloody man...… a fucking Catholic priest!

Laertus: talk about irony!

Eye: and then right before he is to be defrocked cos she's too hot for him to keep his vows and they are to be married in a memorable pricey drunken ceremony on the mountain the whole town's invited to, their whole lives in front of them in love and nasty sex, this lovely complicated young woman DIES YOUNG by pricking her spinster finger like a godsister from a fable on the faulty wiring of a fuse in the basement of the bar she keeps! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

Dirg: basements are dangerous places, believe me on this. see? modern technology, too many wires in the world, get back to American values. that really sucks for him, he's about to give up on his career for her---not to mention his eternal soul---just to be a good househusband. and he doesn't even get to pick the fruits of his betrayal to the Church. that tasty sin. the only way this would have been MORE of an Irish tragedy was she gets electrocuted smoking dead BEFORE he confesses his feelings for her so she dies forever alone and unloved. magnifiying the strange arc of her life cos she's such a babe.

Eye: exactly. you know, i don't know how this is possible, but i remember being in college when this episode of her death was going on, it was all the buzz in town, under breath, i remember people talking in faint bursts about Assumpta and her death and the faulty fuse. all inbetween drowned out by the new Star Wars, but it was there in the irish background in bars and coffeeshops. the sound came in murmurs, everyone gossiping and in shock over the episode of her death. i imagined what heaven would be for me then, Heaven for me then would be me in that pub when the lights go blinking flickering and warning Assumpta NOT to go downstairs and instead enjoy the Chinese food festival inside her pub with the alive lively townsfolk. i also remember something i wrote back then---again, i don't know how this is possible---it was on a webpage, one of the very first websites on the internet, when all you could do was type on crude weblog diaries, my feelings over this character of Assumpta, how it was crazy to be so obsessed with her life, but she was more real to me than my own family, i felt her struggles in life, i related to her on so many levels. i had to write about her RIGHT after the new tragic rain-soaked episode aired, her death shook me to the core. it was the most beautiful essay i've ever written before or since, my schoolmarm would never believe me cos i never did any of this stuff for her class eyes. it was on a green page with pink print on that screen, and i added a few pictures of Assumpta through the years on the show. i explained in great detail and fancy words just what Assumpta meant to me, how she taught me a young girl just starting out the hardships of life, of NOT finding love, of being denied happiness, of NOT being given a fair shake at life, of NOT assumpting up to Heaven, it should have been a rooftop pub, of dying too soon, of dying unfulfilled. i signed it with my real name and the year: 1997.

Gladyce holds the printed-up paper of the weblog in her bony hand and smiles sincerely at Eye Luggage.

Gladyce: you're making great strides of progress, my dear, i'm proud of you.

Cotard takes Velvetta by the hand around the back of the church bush for privacy.

Velvetta: my lord, are we in a competition with that other god and her acolyte? i want to win, we should win, and i hate her red hair!

Cotard: never hate, Vel, only love. please, call me Cotard. don't call me daddy, that's too weird, especially now. here, take this.

under his robe he hands her a tape.

Velvetta: *cringes* sick.

Cotard: *closes his eyes* no no, you don't understand. i am NOTHING like him. i'm the exact opposite of him. by design. i will protect you from my sick brother's clutches, from Codrus's diseased reading of infinity, from his powerful powermad abuse. i won't let him touch you or your blonde hair with his bony finger. believe me, he wants to, you're the ultimate prize to him with your blonde hair. till my dying breath of the breadth of the universe. i want what's best for you. that's why i'm advising you NOT to become an acolyte! DO NOT ENTER THE CHURCH! don't become a nun, sister, or anything else! break free and free to roam yourself on this town's green hills and be a girl and be happy and become anything you want, a thing which will make you smile internally and want to make you get up everyday from your hay barn pillow, just help people!

Velvetta: i don't understand, sir, this is my very reason for being.

Cotard: no it's NOT! i thought that, too, for many many years, for my entire life. i thought all roads paved my consciousness the path to the priesthood, the religion road, i thought i'd become a monk in a secret ceremony and be happy as i gave my freedom away and my freedom to ever enjoy a mint again over for a nebulous concept always just beyond my reach, give up sex and happiness and purpose for a cold ideal in the clouds. i was WRONG, don't you see? i'm trying to teach you a hard-lost lesson here, learn from me, this piece of my life i can never get back in pursuit of a false spirit, all that time wasted away on pointless prayer. i'm handing you the lesson of me, so you don't make the same mistake. be free as a blue butterfly, fly! don't glide on an empty path.

Velvetta: what happened to you?

Cotard: it hit me like a ton of stone when i was walking slowly up that satanic layup line to get confirmed and banished from the outside world, the acolyte stepping in to become a man and a permanent monk, in that temple Codrus talks about. it all hit me when i watched myself on this VHS tape, please watch it yourself.

Velvetta: where's the Temple?

Cotard: it's a secret, i'll tell you at sunbreak when we discuss the tape. see?, tv shows can lead you astray, when i saw how happy Stephen Tompkinson was when he arrives at Ballykissangel and sees the grandeur of the church cathedral steeple spire and the untamed wild countryside of the Irish landscape, he becomes dazzled and actually thinks it's gonna be a good time being a sexless priest with Assumpta's ass there tempting him everyday when she bends over to find the shandy bottle to fetch him a drink and he has to kill the passion inside him with more and more mint drinks of scotch, that never works! he sees her ass! nay he sees the very arse of Irish lore and yore! at least not for long does the drink help. not for Final-Vows Forever!!! that smile of his was SO damn deceptive!

Velvetta: yeah, that wake scene on the mountain after Assumpta's death didn't strike the right note chord for me. Stephen Tompkinson should have been crying the whole time, reddish-than-normal cheeks, eyes burnt, unable to get any word out when trying to explain what Assumpta meant to him, deep-down, that ineffable inducing insight. he turned out to be an unfulfilled vowbreaker. sound familiar?

Cotard: wow, you really are progressing quite rapidly, my dear, i'm happy to see. that's nice, stay nice. Goddess Bless you.