THE PREAKNESS WILL BE RUN...OUT OF TOWN...OUT OF BALTIMORE...

well this is a Royal mess. i feel so sorry for Maximum Security's jockey. has this kid been put through the silks ringer or what? in the press and slung through the mud...of the press and the racetrack. i mean he got those two precious minutes with Donna Brothers...

you know, every man and woman dreams of this. you're basking in the glory and glow of having won the Big Race, you ride alongside Donna Brothers on horses for the NBC interview where you can't gather your thoughts cos you're out of breath and just instinctively remember to pet the horses's jaw and kiss the horse on the ears and loosen the reins and make sure to always thank the horse cos the horse did all the work but you do take a moment to think of your rough childhood in some far-off place not America and think of all the relatives working the farms and tilling the stables till dayfall you left behind. you're never gonna be this ON TOP TOPPO again...and then...

it was weird, right? like you didn't even know what was happening, it was never enunciated, put out there in the universe, put to pasture, the pasture of the universe, it was simply simple silence. silence permeated the track, everyone took their ten-gallon flower hats off cos it was getting too hot and stuffy in the rain. everyone waited...waited...for...something...to...happen...conclusively.

it was like, yeah, there was an Objection, NBC ran the replay reels over and over and over, but this was never said, it was just kinda implied. and it took forever, and that poor woman who wanted to be tough at the start of the race admonishing the jockeys that this was HER track now, daddy was dead, and to comply with and adhere to all decorum and manners of a good Kentuckian, and then SHE has to deal with this SHIT. this thing that happens every race. i know about horse safety, i get it, but it wasn't that egregious, right? i mean you wouldn't have NOTICED it if it hadn't been brought to your eyes. so, let the horse win. the right horse. the one who earned it.

Rebecca Lowe is never attending a horse race again, this will be her first and last. which is a shame. British girls have that kind of low-key sexiness you can't find anywhere else...except Siberia.

imagine if there had been an Objection during American Pharoah's race at the Belmont! and now there is a GUARANTEED NO TRIPLE CROWN this year. that's not good for ratings, but actually, THIS IS HOW IT SHOULD BE. it should be HARD to win the Triple Crown, right? Justify is at a pasture right now laughing his ass off at us humans, he thinks we're donkeys.

this poor jockey starts to get disparaged in the papers when it's looking like you can't have an appeal of the stewards. see, there can't be precendent when this is the first time this has ever happened. it happened once but that was in the yellow papers. the owners turn on their own hardworking boy, call him names, said he was "drunk" out there racing, competing, steering. man this sport is rough. no days off. this case will be taken up by the Supreme Court BEFORE the 2020 Election...

of course my position holds no oat-sugarwater now that a tragedy has occurred on the Pimlico racetrack today...o the humanity...the horror of it all...those beautiful beautiful horses, makes me cry every time.

so choose one. not the Black-Eyed Susans, those are reserved for Susan Dey. everyone loves eating black-eyed peas, especially Josh Duhamel. Fergie, meanwhile, likes her peas green. for protein. saw her teaing with Kermit at Spago. after the week, month, and year-so-far we've all had to endure, i need a vaction. i would like to be Always Shopping and eating Cookie Dough with my brillo-pad teeth. off topic, Our Super Freak is still Cher. my favorite song is "Jack & Princess Diana" by Mellencamp. can you play the ukulele with your tongue?

i'm gonna have to go with Laughing Fox. cos Lars von Trier at the betting gate stared at me one time from a hedge for five minutes. i went up to him and offered my life savings but he politely refused, preferring instead to clean out the driveway. he then told me his next film was gonna be about my life...

CLICK HERE FOR THE CONTENDERS

tomorrow at KFC: CINNABON BISCUITS!!! but the cinnabon is already a biscuit of sorts, they just plop the KFC biscuit at the bottom of it and call it a day, huh. a Susan Dey.

who will win the Iron Throne? Hodor, right? gotta be, everyone knows the one who goes through the magic door gets the Enlightenment and gets to Live Forever. what everyone forgets is that there is a little door in the middle of your mind, one which opens up when you die buried in snow. small enough for only a rat to get through...no but seriously it's gotta be Arya Stark, right? she's the cute kid pipsqueak with the heart of gold and insane fighting spirit beyond her size and determination beyond her designated rank and position in polite society we all grew up loving and rooting for, of course it's Arya!!! Up Arya!

THE PURPLE HOURGLASS: THE ONES WHO LOVE US WILL MISS US

Keanu Reeves at The Late Show, Keanu wearing a Wayne's World T-shirt, Colbert wearing a Beard Papa T-shirt, both under their tuxes:

Colbert: you didn't just swipe that saying from a google quote-search with the motivational mantra in front of a dying sunset behind mountains, didja?

Keanu: no, i don't steal in my life, goes against my Neo Buddhism code, the religion i invented. i got a call from my best friend Jim Carrey asking for advice about a matter, then it popped into my head. entirely my own creation. gained from my cruel experience with this life. had some family tragedies, a crucicble which makes my vote for one religion or another extremely stingy. if i told you The Brothers Karamazov was based on my life, despite that being impossible timeline-wise, would you believe me?

Colbert: yes, cos you're Neo.

Keanu: i swear, i want to be a Buddhist. but i'm just not there yet. it's pulling me there but there is mist on the bridge, and atheism seems too easy, you know? trust me, but it still hasn't made all the way sense yet, i've gotten that a lot in my career.

Chris Cuomo at the HLN Studios, the CNN Proper studios are getting a makeover (read: being fumigated). Cuomo has one glass eye. and curly hair. Cuomo is interviewing Alyssa Milano who wears a bonnet over her hair:

Cuomo: okay, i get it, sex strike, it's playful tho, right?

Alyssa Milano: dead serious. it's actually dangerous for women to have sex in this current political climate. i stand in solidarity with my dark sisters. sisters of the dark arts. Chris, we gotta be witches again, our sex is our power. you want me to wear my Bellona Warrior Princess copper kneepads and silver helmet covering my nose instead? i've got it in my Spade bag right next to my ankle bracelet here.

Cuomo: i get it, stare decisis, your eyes are like stars, let's decide to stare at them together, and all that. sex strike and the Peloponnesian Wars, was a crucial bargaining chip, helped turn the tide.

Alyssa: that's where penis comes from, Pelopopenis.

Cuomo: but there's gotta be a better way. you think you're getting twitter hate now, just wait till the incels come on board attacking you. hey, wait a minute, i'm checking my notes about you---for research---and...you're 50?!!!

President Bump: you're a GILF!!?

Alyssa: i never had an awkward stage nor phase: i was a cute kid, the girl-next-door teenager, and a hot babe adult, and now i'm a gilf. thank you for having me on not cos i'm hot but to discuss women's health. you know a woman doesn't need a man to achieve pleasure. sorry, guys. she only need use of her wand.

Cuomo: look, i mean, right, i get it, no need for apology. but you're Italian like me, too, right? it's just...okay...so you wanna after the interview go see that millennial teen movie flick about the stars? the mob is not making me go to the OC one but i'd like to have some of your protection. against pregnancy.

Maria LaRosa, one foot barefoot: see? this is what i mean. i had to say MOTHER of all storms last weekend recharge. my black man cabana boy had to say City of MOTHERLY Love. cos it was Mother's Day for him...

at the TNT Studios, which is right next door to the HLN Studios:

the original Red Circle Table is there all gathered. Ernie, Kenny, Shaq, and Bald Bull:

Ernie: not the cartoon thing with the turtles. those were the ol' '80s TNT days when it was owned by Cartoon Network. i hold a lot of secret pain about my family that the audience never sees. the fact that i can still laugh is a blessing. thank you, twitter, for my gold tooth. i come from the mean streets of Milwaukee.

Kenny: i have a daughter who raps. she invented Gansgta Walking. i don't appreciate the other panelists' comments about my daughter.

Bald Bull: you know i LOVE the NBA Draft! it's so much better than the NFL Draft, that Draft is fucking four days long!!! all wind. this NBA Draft was so fun, it's only 30 minutes, and there's a collegial atmosphere in the air, everyone all the owners and that kid owner shake hands after, Cassidy keeps it loose with the jokes, and it's just...well...it's like The Round Table in Arthurian Times used to be, people coming together gathering round a round table and discussing the issues and chastity belts of the day and shooting the breeze over mead, not Bud. real buds. everyone was wearing a suit but nobody would have minded if we were all naked. nobody cared if you were a man or a woman. the lottery used to be jovial, till stones, family tragedy, life savings, raping of the poor, and mental health got involved, stories started to be told. it was just nice and short and pleasant, like life. should be. i hope the sitcom format persists after Big Bang. and Big Bang.

Shaq, wearing a rose in his pocket: Charles, you sure you okay? you're rambling.

Bald Bull: i did get hit in the head a few times. but all boxers wear helmets now, right?

Shaq: this year's NBA Awards were lit. i mean you had that dude with the fro which i awarded cos he has a fro like me. i'm gonna be Shaft, Samuel L. Jackson can't play EVERY part. and i give an Honorary European Mention to that Ricky-dude player from Europe who would guard James Harden by literally…

Kenny: Euro step?

Shaq: no, but kinda. it was weird. Ricky would step IN BACK of James Harden's heels as Harden went for the J or 3-pointer. to prevent Harden from doing his patented juke of his shuffling feet step-back. quite innovative. never seen anything like it before, and i've seen it all. even Space Jam 3, which i will star in. and finally, the Oscar goes to Enes Kanter, for all the shit he's dealing with back home. i mean dude really can't have a moment's peace to himself, even when he's ON the court.

With Kanter, You Kan

hey, that has a nice ring to it. Enes should run for President. of Turkey.

Ros Gold, wearing gold teeth and curly hair: Big-Shot Kawhi?

Kawhi, quietly like Prince: nah, that was Big Shot Rob. i'm happy still with Shy Kawhi. cos i like the R&B group Shai. i don't want to step on any toes. why did you talk directly into my ear?, that was kind of warm and personable, i'm not used to that.

Ros Gold: cos of the stadium crowd noise. Kawhi Lemon? it's always the quiet ones.

Kawhi: i'm not a quiet one but i'm a young one, i like to have fun, have you seen me laugh?

Ros: why is peeping at sideline reporters and cheerleaders at NBA games a meme? are they implying celebrities aren't human? they're robots?

Kawhi: i'm nursing a cold. we're not the Toronto Raptors, we're the Canadian Raptors.

the crones are lazing around doing nothing, lying down laying on a Viking Funeral ship. for kicks. for fun. they are at Uncle Harvey's Mausoleum in Duluth, Minnesota.

Doryce: i don't see why everyone says Duluth is dull. Minnesota is awesome! you got the freshest freshets here. and Prince.

Gladyce: hmm, this isn't Viking Cruiselines. well, not Prince anymore.

Doryce: Mary Tyler Moore? David Foster Wallace? oh well. i guess i'll be their new Princess. but not a racist one who wears a blackamoor brooch. who names their princess Michael? oh, and Betty White! Betty White, that's it! that's her! we still got Betty White!

Gladyce: this is a wonder of the world...that no one knows about.

Doryce: i was hoping Uncle Harvey could direct me to the rabbit sex around here. introduce me, put in a good word, a spell. as in sex with rabbits, that's how we witches get more familiar with our familiars.

Gladyce: there's no one book on the subject. dear, you see the conflagration going on with high licking flames of red blue and green befalling our ship? you know where that comes from? you know why there's a thick fat long brown streak running straight all along this blue lake?

Doryce: oil? crude oil must be a thing of the past.

Gladyce: more specifically, grease. cooking grease. you know all those French fries you're so fond of? you cook them in fry grease batter. fried food isn't good for you, too much fried food is like having a restaurant in your mouth. gotta cut back on the fries. i'm so scared for you, your diet is terrible: bacon everyday, french fries, fried greasy potatoes for lunch. you gonna die.

Doryce: we're all gonna, even if WE specifically will take longer.

Gladyce: as your eternal wife it's my job and duty to protect your heart.

at the SNL Studios, Cecily Strong in a red robe is chatting up Beck Bennett in the eaves after the season finale.

Beck: *slight-chance-of-rain chuckle* there will never be a SERIES finale to this show, huh. it'll keep going on forever.

Cecily: *chuckles back, slightly* huh. yeah. and to think it was almost canceled in the Eighties. who cancels an Eighties show? i can't believe you've been with us now at the Company for 19 years.

Beck: has it been that long? my jowls are jowling right now! so whaddaya say?

Cecily: yeah, i know, i've felt the attraction ever since you signed. from your first skit. it wasn't the two of you as a comedy tandem, it was always just you.

Beck: but is it mutual? i can be the handsome yet woke guy you need. i know you have an image to maintain.

Cecily: it's not an image, i worked in a women's clinic for years, horror stories shaped my opinion of men. it's just...…...i have a man at home. in my NYC apartment. i can't abandon him.

Beck: *hangdog* i see...…...hey, Emma Thompson should've done a skit where she runs around naked to the everloving embarrassment of Stephen Fry running around in their apartment she trying to chase him down. that happened in real life. it's funny cos it plays on the stereotypes of gays, you know?

Cecily: right, i agree. who would turn down a naked Emma Thompson? except a stupid angry abusive ego-driven Kenneth Branagh, who thought he was God in the Nineties. why the hell did SNL wait SO long to get Emma to finally come? she's an old woman now!

Beck: well, when it comes to comedy, nothing tops The Young Ones. who do we get for next season's opening host?

Cecily: hostess. Bonnie Bernstein, another oldie-but-goodie legend. gracing us with her presence on our tired old creaky stage. i might leave next year, my commitment is that cement. already got a preview of her monologue.

Bonnie Bernstein steps out on stage in a neon-green gogo-dancer outfit. after a Berenstain Bears joke, she delivers the thunder.

Bonnie Bernstein: hey! Bump official! get my name out yo filthy mouth!!!!!!!!

Dirg: this is so bullshit! why does the AV Club Reviewer do a review of ONE SNL skit. ONE skit!!? are you kidding me? just to line his pockets more?! typed lines for lines for lines of coke. i see you, Dennis AV Reviewer. and no, i WON'T have a nice summer waiting for your imminent eminent return this Fall!

Eye Luggage: i LOVED how Family Guy handled the James Woods conundrum imbroglio quagmire they were in. Quagmire, get it? that was becoming a sticky situation, giggity. bye, Batman.

Laertus: The End of the Tour, go.

Dirg: good movie, terrible title. how generic can you get?, how non-DFW. FU. just name it Infinite Jest to sell more tickets.

Laertus: yeah but that's false advertising, they'll think it's ACTUALLY the film version of Infinite Jest, which would be a monumental achievement, an insane undertaking.

Dirg: don't even try it, it would be another Dune. the unfilmable script.

Laertus: LOVED this biopic. it makes me wonder how Jason Segel would have fared if his career had been straight drama, no comedy. but Jason was always constantly pulled by and to that Muppets sauce.

Dirg: like he were on strings. "puppet" is code for "furry". OMG, but that Lipsky guy! he's got a set of lips on him huh! on set. i mean he reminded me of YOU, that guy was SO FUCKING JEALOUS of David Foster Wallace it showed and would seep out of every conversation and interview, it was painful and pitiful to watch.

Laertus: more like human. i related to him actually. not in the crude base way you think. we all go through those pangs of wanting to be someone else, someone with more fame, money, birthday money, and side-sex after sides at Sizzler. why did sides have to die? i love what Lipsky says about how when you read Infinite Jest, since it's a secret personal memoir and memory-machine and accounting of Wallace's, laden with code words and melancholy and life experience and male disappointment peppered throughout all those footnotes, since it's an all-encompassing encyclopedic novel of his life experience, a mushed-in memoir of sorts, when you read that book, it's like you're becoming Wallace's friend, you get to know the man, not just the author. you read all about him, who he is and what he's like. like a massive profile FBI file. that's nice, that's how all books should be, a glimpse into one's inner life.

Dirg: remember when Rolling Stone was still a cultural touchStone of culture? they had the quiver in their hands and directed how pop culture should think.

Laertus: can you imagine being a student in David Foster Wallace's writing class? how lucky were those damn students! they weren't Obec students that's for sure. it's like those few who were taught creative-writing in a small upstate-New York liberal-arts college by none other than Rod Serling himself---right before he died.

Dirg: i dunno. i'm suspicious of all these Great American Authors who were only great cos they wrote long books. strange heady impossible-to-follow books. is EVERYONE the next Faulkner or Mueller? that conflict with the lady-babes from college-grad school was completely manufactured for the film. but i DID love how they watched Broken Arrow of all great classic films at the Great Mall of America, as that Mall was just in its infancy learning to walk getting off the ground taking off. one escalator at the time. goddamn the Nineties were a simpler time! when the only war we had to worry about was Letterman vs. Leno.

Laertus: can you blame him? you can't resist the shadow of Meryl Streep. those poor dogs, i think i felt for them the most at the end. i think those long winters he endured up there in desolate Middle America were a little too quiet. if he needed Midwest i think Chicago would have been the perfect place fit for him. crazy writers can't have TOO quiet, it makes their already-fragile psyches that much more crazy. it's sad, this brilliant man writes all these unfiltered pages and pages and pages of stream-of-consciousness brute strength and brutal wisdom, and it's like his brilliant cosmic unearthly alien brain couldn't catch up with his human feelings so his only option was to join the two of them together in the sky.

Dirg: as in the high-arching wood crossbeams of the ceiling. David should have just become a dancer, that's what he REALLY wanted to do. i wanted to see him on Dancing with the Stars. and what about that suicide note? WHAT exactly is in the note?

Laertus: get Mueller on that. no doubt more abstruse packed brilliance which will be debated for centuries. Library of Alexandria stuff. i'm thinking some mathematical equations and circle graphs with the Michelangelo Human Body of Man in the center of the circle.

Dirg: that's the most-guarded secret in pop-culture history. how does DFW get all the vault stony silence? he gets a pass but Cobain's is strewn and flung around every conspiracy theorist's website and web black-hole? but Foster's is so tightly-locked-up there is no key.

Laertus: runs on automatic now, no key, just a key card placed in the slot. i GREATLY appreciate Jesse Eisenberg's work ethic, his process. his reason for acting, you know he would watch his mother come home from work as a clown and she'd say to him that all acting work is noble and you should approach it like a job. that's why Jesse is so brilliant, he treats an acting gig as if it were a job, like he were breaking rocks on a construction site.

Dirg: Jesse in this movie made me want to punch his big nose and spew into a tissue. no, seriously. but i guess that's good acting. he has this tickish weird awkward mannerism to his style that irks me, like he's always trying to be a brusque asshole underneath his seemingly placid nerdy curly-haired demeanor. weird acidic tongue mixed in with his easygoing geeky manner, his eyes aren't quite right, they're hiding something. like if it were his choosing he would have been a school bully if he had been bigger and more muscular. his mom is a clown? that explains a lot.

Laertus: i just hope this film brings back tape recorders. there is no medium more human, more brimming with energy, more crackly to record experience, more live and alive than tape tape. the human voice is basic on tape. i love the sound your thumb makes when it pushes the button of a tape recorder.

at LUSH Madame Pons receives a phone call. from her sister. Pons picks the mouthpiece up with food stuck in her mouth and on her teeth, talking with food in her mouth---yes, the food is LUSH soaps:

Pons: what up, sis, i'm kinda busy, what do you want? don't take that tone with me! no, i'm not pretending to go under a tunnel, no scratchy static sound, i'm eating soap, that's why you can't understand me.

Taki: i can't understand you even when you're speaking clearly.

Pons: i love you.

Taki: dammit! you undermined me. now with what energy have i to be angry with you?

Pons: look, sis, i get it, that's why i'm leaving it to you.

Taki: what?

Pons: you are the strongest woman i know. that's why i'm gonna let YOU solve your own mystery! surely you can figure out why you've disappeared from us. your son can't crack the code?

Taki: or he doesn't want to. anymore. Takahashi is off trying to become a video-game athlete, whatever the hell that is. and my husband Melbourne...i fear he's dangerous.

Pons: no, i honestly don't think so. but it has to do with planes, spheres of existence. take a bath tonight with some LUSH soaps and relax your mind, it'll come to you. only YOU can get out of this. YOURSELF.

Taki: *tearing up* i appreciate you, my beloved sister, and i honor you. you know all the other women in my life, my work colleagues, they were all jealous of me cos they thought i had it all. i was a beautiful woman with a high-stress career who was getting it done. mother and breadwinner. everyone thought i was constantly being promoted just off my good looks and not my abilities, they disparaged my journalistic skills. but i fear my final dream of stable family may be in jeopardy.

Pons: hey, it's not as bad as all that, it's not Alex-bad. yes, everyone thought the good-looking one on tv was the Asian woman. we are still talking about the Eighties here, right?

Taki: okay fine, well i was petite if not pretty, that's the same thing to men, right?

Pons: despite your concerns---which i validate---i still think Melbourne's a good guy, i still think he can come out of this the good guy, he's redeemable. but i got a plan to shake him out and loose and prove my theory...

at the Clearing:

Llywarch: the time has come. for you to decide. who you really are. your destiny and your dreams will combine and join and meld here.

Laertus: or melt here. i'm not sure i'm ready.

Llywarch: you are not ready for this, i can guarantee that.

Laertus: what's up with business instagrams? right? they're all so ugly, and they all look the same, they all seem to come from the same white square cookie-cutter design. how ANYTHING gets sold through Instagram is beyond me, it's witchcraft, a real head-scratcher.

Llywarch: i'd scratch my head but i have a hoof and goat ears.

Laertus: beyond the beyond. the Almighty Algorithm. you think Instagram had any idea when they were trying to pair up people and things and ideas looking for similarities and patterns and matches, trying to define us, that they'd land on YOU and ME as a couple?

Llywarch: no, that's the point. we broke the system, we're illogical, and yet here we are. are you ready to step into your new life?

Laertus: will it be like an NBA Draft prospect getting signed to his first pro team?

Llywarch: no, that's more about the upgrade. dealing with money and such, but still in the same realm. what we're dealing with with you is entering a new frontier, exploring a space yet to be timed out. a shift in your consciousness which affects the clouds in the sky.

Laertus with his mouth in a pucker turns around to face Llywarch. Llywarch smiles then bleats.

Llywarch: a new reality...

TMIT: WHY THE HELL DIDN'T THE MAC SELL?

i will NEVER UNDERSTAND this as long as i live to my eternal grave. i mean the Apple Macintosh REMAINS the cutest awesomest and best most-friendly warmest design a computer has EVER had. Steve Jobs is a genius for sure---he is Magneto after all---but it seems it wasn't until the ipad that the dude had a BREAKOUT HIT, at least globally and global-consciously.

i LOVED the original Mac, it spoke to me, and not just hello. it was my first friend, the compact design was not quite a cube, a cute cube. not quite a gray box like Nintendo, but just a pocket friend you could put in your pocket, someone to talk to when you were too square for society. this is where i had my first virgin conversation, the first time i played Oregon Trail, the first time i was ever in a non-meth lab. and that game where you fill up your mining cart with as much poundage of jewels as possible careful not to tip it over into the bottomless cavern below when the railroad tracks suddenly weren't finished, and then the seagull congratulates you with a squawk surfacing from the sea, remember that educational PC computer game?

1. what is the rudest thing you have ever done? placed a bet at a bar. never place a bet at a bar, and with another man. this man came up to me and we started jostling. about Embiid. i said i didn't like how Embiid carried himself and the other man called me racist. but i have to say after this round (not of drinks) i see Embiid completely differently now, i think he's cool, i LOVE a man who can cry in public.

2. what do you like more---being a leader or follower? why?

you know what Steve Jobs always said...something to the effect of...if you don't do your dreams, you're just working to make someone else's dreams come true.

i like Magneto, he's cool, so i'll be Magneto's follower.

and WHY THE HELL didn't the Nixie Watch catch on? right? you take one look at those things and are surprised and befuddled and dumbstruck that not EVERYONE in the world is wearing one of these fashionable trendy watches now. i mean this is indie hipster retro FOR THE MASSES. Woz really got the short end of the stick up the ass from Steve Jobs TWICE!

3. if you are single, what do you miss most about being a couple? if you are in a relationship, what do you miss most about being single?

i am eternally single, even when i'm in a relationship. forever alone...in my own thoughts. what i miss most? cereal. Fruity Lucky Charms, overkill cereal with the sugar, no need to create such a cereal really. but it was fun having that cereal with my baby, we'd get our tongues sticky-stuck to each other from all that extra sugar, it was sweet.

when i was single i was free. free to wear jeans in my studio apartment. free to worship My Lord And Savior Superman. free to laugh freely at dirty politically-incorrect jokes about cereal.

only single guys really get Seinfeld's jokes, you know?

4. if you could hack into any computer whose computer would you hack? see above.

i was gonna say Julian Assange's but...i'd need TONS AND TONS of John McAfee's special sauce---homemade from Belize---of virus-protection on that bad boy first, you know?

i wish BMO were my son. i'm sick of imaginary friends, i need to start a family...

that was the beauty of the Mac and all Apple products, the end-to-end, they are impossible to hack, not compatible with any other hardware or software, THAT's why you want to hack it all the more, to see what's inside (not Intel Xeon), you want to see if the Answer To Life is inside, the one Steve Jobs meditated on in his private zen tomato garden every morning before scooting to work on a lemon rainbow.

5. if you could shop for free at one store (brick n mortar, not online), what store would it be?

when i was a kid, my favorite store was Toys R Us. that was the place to buy my Nintendo video games, the gray cartridges with the railroad tracks. always very expensive, 60 bucks a pop. i could only get a new one, like, every four months, a quarter in the financial calendar. it was a magical place, the glass was magical and shiny, it was always that first counter of heavily-locked glass as you made your way from the glass sliding-door entrance. that was where i first laid eyes on the sidescroll concept of video games, where i first laid my eyes on a tv up top the shelf sample-playing Level 1-1 of Super Mario Bros. i've been hooked ever since that childlike gaze. later, Geoffrey the Giraffe harassed me online and started stalking me cos he said i stopped going to zoos to visit him in favor of GOT cons---which he read in the emails as goat---which was unfortunate. that's what i get for joining the fan club. see? brick n mortar is WAY BETTER than online.

also, Fedco. that was also a place to get my Nintendo video games. also 60 dollars a pop. that's where i got Contra. it was supposed to be for a sleepover but i ended up playing it all myself deep into the jungle night. always sold under that huge carpeted partition at the side of the store. and then i'd go to the elevated Thrifty-cone ice-cream parlor-and-pharmacy right at the edge where the glass sliding-doors exit was to celebrate the purchase. Sal a nice Italian man was there who always served me the little boy, think he felt sorry for me cos i was so weak and skinny. that's where i had my first pepperoni pizza and churro stick, heated awkwardly under a heat lamp and FILLED with grease and sugar, Sal got me hooked on the good stuff.

later Sal sent me a letter which was his letter to his boss. it read in part:

Dear Boss, Screw You. Middle Finger. work sucks. i hate working. i hate the concept of work.

love you, Sal, wherever you are.

BONUS: what is the biggest favor a friend has done for you? do you feel you must return the favor?

loved me. got me writing again. yes. i will marry her.

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HOLEY BOOK

notes:

* first pic up there, that's my size...…...of paper i use to cast spells.

* they shoulda made a cartoon on that Wakanda night scene wth the Lone Cypress...wait...

* so this is like if VeggieTales were on HBO. VeggieTales serves a useful purpose in this society: they warn against the dangers of having bacon for every meal...

* Two Kings, not the zany Disney live-action sitcom about a couple of Tarzan Jrs. i watched EVERY episode of that show...for some reason...

* btw the title of this is not a knock at autism or anything, it's just the cool way to say it. not evoking a baby and bib or anything.

* so this is the CGI that makes everyone look like they've been spread with marshmallow-fluff

* this is why Bezos is the way he is today...taking no guff..

* Bezos: shit! i left my British Olympics shepherd cane in my other pants...with my hot telenovela actress...this is my giant candy cane! i don't mean my dick.

* Bible Translation Study Group: in ancient Latin, "bear" meant "gay man"

* Tiger watched this to get his game back...with the ladies, too...

* did you know bears can breathe in space? they have tremendous lungs and can hold it for, like, hibernation. the nuclear holocaust happened cos someone was asleep at the wheel...who happened to be a bear using his coffee mug to shave his beard

* Shepherd Bezos: and now i'm off to a land who will fit me with a tutu bottom. i'm thinking Little Bo Peep's house…

* the ONLY souls who get to enter the Pearly Gates MUST look good in a white wifebeater tanktop, get those guns out, my blaze bros.

* Satan's Hand: so, soul, tell me again how you invented BDSM...

* before we begin this tale, it must be noted that the two daughters never dressed sluttily. they never deserved this, i don't care if it's Biblical Times.

* daughter 1: so we're women at this time, we are fucked. the only thing that seems to matter is we squeeze out children.
daughter 2: let's get some of that street wine and do the deed...it just sucks that the only man in the ENTIRE tri-state desert area is our father, there are literally no other males or cute boys around.
daughter 1: i'd rather get some street tacos...

* daughter 1: don't let my pigtails fool you, i WASN'T reared in a barn.
daughter 2: the joke's on papa. this isn't wine, it's our menstrual blood. this will surely turn us into witches so we can fight the patriarchy with our black magic.
daughter 1: do i have to seduce him tho? do the sexy dance? i was gonna save the dance for when i became independent. i took community-college classes at night at the cave and everything.

* he was not aware of it when she got down...or when she got up...cos he was always up…

* daughter 1: so this is punishable by stone, right? incest?
daughter 2: technically we're preserving the familial lineage. but we are NOT doing a threeway.
Devil: even a Devil's Threeway?

* father: all i saw during the night were legs...

* family: so let's not talk specifically what our Tribe's name is, we don't want to curse a generation of People forever. the British Royal Family is finally right with Meghan and her son so let's just leave it at that.

* not much is known about the only gas station in Biblical Times. other than that gas was expensive. and caused the Dead Sea to go dead.

* oil joke here too easy. but the inflatable car-salesman balloon man in these times was actually the Satan Snake.

* Xavier Renegade Angel: hi, call me Jesus. it's just i have a really good non-tan on right now. the original Jesus wasn't white, he looked more like Xavier Renegade Angel.
demons: why do you taint us so?
Xavier: what do you mean?
demons: why did D&D have to come up during the '70s? why wasn't it popular in the social-media age? also, we are Smurfs, this is what the original Smurfs ACTUALLY looked like.
Xavier: you like red meat? i mean like the pigs are red.

* and the Snake Salesmen as in Car Salesmen followed the pack and the herd thinned till it was explained what happened to the other two Mr. McFeelys...

* Xavier: why do you protesteth the One True Son of God?
mob protesters: where is your red hat?
Xavier: um, i left it at home.
mob: get outta town! we don't want your kind here! for the last time, LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!!!
Xavier cries out of town.

* God: never eat ANY birds, for they are all unclean.
People: see? God wants us to be gay.
God: no, it's just that's disgusting when you eat their heads. and especially don't eat the stork, that's where babies come from, you think I have that power? creating life is impossible.

* Prophet: i was the original Goku, and this is my pink cloud. i am pinkclouding.
Prophet: why is the sky marshallow fluff? i'm Eddie Murphy. please take me back, SNL, this is NOT the type of comedy i want to do. i've got a spice baby to feed. what's the deal with all these bones?
God Flame Elijah: these bones are the result of too many boners.

* Prophet: HOLY FUCK!! YOU LOOK LIKE SATAN! are you sure you're God?
Elijah: yeah, sorry, in Heaven we don't bother with the reanimating of the skeletons, we're just There, you know? but here on Earth we have to find a way to speak to you. let this be a lesson: drink the right kosher milk.
Prophet: bones. so, like jacks? cards? dice? dominos? marbles?
Elijah: let it be known in all the four corners of this barren desert that you have created the first-ever street corner.

* Prophet: black people don't ski. just a heads up. this is all very spooky. maybe it's better if we're all just turned into angels.
God: do they have to be naked, tho?
Prophet: whatever we're going through now, it will be nothing compared to the centuries-long horror which awaits the formation of Israel and Palestine.
God: you are all My People. simple. wait, their heads are empty, whatever you do do not fill them with religion!

* God: do not make different kinds of animals. unless it's a liger. only anal sex is acceptable. and smoke a pack of Camel cigarettes a day for your health, that's why you're in the desert.

* ginger: i've got a hot wife. but that woman has three tits. why are Biblical women so hot?
God: if you even think lustfully after a woman not your wife, you have already committed adultery with her in your heart and your dick is banished to Hell.
ginger: but i'm a ginger, i have no heart. i wear my heart on my head.
God: gouge your eye with a spoon.
ginger: i was gonna use that spoon for my ice cream. but blind women are hot.
God: cut off your masturbating hand.
ginger: oh, okay, i thought you were gonna say cut off my dick. i mean the girl is churning butter, what do you expect from me?
ginger: wait, the girl had goat hind legs the whole time!!? COME ON, THAT'S NOT FAIR!!!

* Moses: LET MY PEOPLE GO!
Exodus God: can't. I'm God.
Moses: part the Red Sea!
Exodus: we're in a desert.
Moses: let me get to know you better.
God: I enjoy mukbang videos.
Moses: SHOW ME YOURSELF! how do i know this ain't a con?
God: I am pleased with you and know you by your name.
Moses: Moses is my slave name. shower me and Your People with Your glory.

* it starts to rain.
Moses: come on, yellow acid rain?
God: sorry. is it still morning? it's hard to tell in the desert. no man may see My face and live.
Moses: so, my wife shall be sacrificed? okay, i can live with that.
God: no, it's just you have to be dead to see Me. and angels have no eyes. slide up Chocolate Mountain to catch a glimpse of Me.
Moses: is that a euphemism for something?
God: you may see My back BUTT you cannot see My Face. get it?
Moses: God has a nice ass.
God: remember the thing I said about anal? this is what the Moon really looks like. ironic, huh?
Moses: so here on Sinai i am to make sinus medicine from these herbs?
God: no, the Ten Commandments. they were meant to be windshield sun shades to put up whenever I shone My ass toward you, the light coming from My butt is too bright.
Moses: heads up, my arms are too skinny wasting away in these desert sands to carry two heavy tablets.
God: newsflash, there are supposed to be THREE tablets! it's supposed to be a triptych! I have a thing for Roman society.
Moses: what's a car?

* narrated by Arya Stark. and sung by NXIVM.

CLICK HERE RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK

Happy Mother's Day, my babies. or as my neighbor shouted out to me this morning across the fence, Happy Motherfuckers Day.

tomorrow: Burger King 6-Dollar King Box. hope it's like those 6-dollar burgers from Carl's Jr. which items tho? not the Angry Whopper, why did they bring that back? it just made people angry, we don't need more anger in this Discourse. and two cookies so Burger King can keep track of me...

THE PURPLE HOURGLASS: BODYCOCK

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TMIT: I AM A WANKER

May is Masturbation Month. it's also Margarita Month what with the two Margarita Days, otherwise known as Cinco de Mayo and Mother's Day...

1. can one masturbate too much?

no. never. scientifically impossible. i am living proof. masturbation created the stars. in fact the stars are...well...us...if you're at church and the urge comes on and you can't hold it in any longer do it when everyone else is distracted milling around in line for the wafer. the pew is your friend. do NOT even think about doing it during the Peace Be With You when you're giving everyone around you the handshake, THAT is a sin.

2. do you masturbate daily? yes...…...wait, this whole time i confused the words masturbate with meditate...…...I BECAME A MONK FOR NOTHING!!!...but that's not true, turns out i quite like quiet tomato gardens.

3. do you masturbate significantly more than you have sex with another person? a) yes b) no

can i choose c)? if you replace the word person with the word robot, it's a whole different conversation.

you know i was just ruminating the other day about how much Brent Spiner of Data fame looked like Peter Sellers. and then i read a newspaper clipping online about how Brent emulated his Data performance on the wondrous wide-eyed courtly all-learning all-polite manner of Chauncey from Being There. that is wild! i suppose it's true, people will naturally gravitate toward other people who look like them.

4. could you go one week without masturbating? a) yes b) no c) only if i could have sex at least every other day

there's a specific species of bee out there in nature who only masturbates, never has sex his whole life. makes a very rare sweet salty milky chalky honey...

5. are you comfortable casually admitting to others that you masturbate?
a) yes
b) depends who i'm talking to
c) no

here's the thing: it's tricky when you're a monk. i wouldn't tell my local priest in the confessional box this, cos we still have to live together in the village and village gossip is brutal. however, i would feel comfortable telling the Pope this. especially THIS Pope. cos he seems like a cool modern guy at home in the modern world, he talks about atheism and the Ice Curtain and stuff…...not the Game of Thrones Ice Curtain…

6. would you be comfortable performing a masturbation "show" in front of your lover?
a) yes
b) maybe, depends on the personality of my lover
c) no

not in public, you get arrested for that sort of stuff. especially if your lover has a Type A personality...

7. have you ever masturbated in a public place? where? why?
a) yes b) no

does the bus stop count? it wasn't my fault, the stop was way out in the middle of the country out in the middle of nowhere and that bus took WAY TOO LONG to come

BONUS: would you rather...never masturbate again...OR...have to masturbate five times a day, every day, forever?

i hereby defer my answer to one Graham Norton. whose guests this week include Arya Stark, who will get a bit cheeky explaining that scene she did and what percentage of it was CGI...

CLICK HERE FOR TMI TUESDAY

MAYDAY!!! CHOOSE YOUR SIDE

okay this is all happening here at once! y'all know what this means, right? May 1, May Day, Omaha Beach, Normandy, Saving Private Ryan and the scene everyone will never forget...the opening scene...but everyone DOES forget that the Ryan in the Saving of the Private Parts was actually Matt Damon. not the Howard Stern movie. no this is not that Rome Sweet Rome script on reddit unsold pilot thing, that's over, and a writer's dream, Ancient Rome won, beat the American infantry, but then again Ancient Rome IS America, so...

btw sweet wordplay there with the title. thought it was about Jim Rome, who's sweet and into horses in his own right.

it's no coincidence that the favorite this year is named Omaha Beach.

what? Omaha Beach scratched? THE FAVORITE SCRATCHED!!!? i mean this now happens at EVERY Kentucky Derby since i can remember, it's de rigueur. name me the last race where the favorite didn't scratch at the last minute and send all the bookies off a Big Sur cliff with their stockings around their ankles just as they were about to enter the monastery?

nevermind that, choose anyway. choose a horse that...hasn't scratched yet...hindlegs yes but not the race. we pray of course that this race doesn't matter and all the horses live---THAT'S all that really matters.

remember, you must choose a horse ONLY by their name, not their stats.

oh and this year it's gonna fall on May The Fourth so you're gonna get all the Star Wars freaks milling into the paddock in their Jar Jar costumes scaring the fuck out of the horses at the starting line. this year a little of the Preakness freakness is gonna spill early into the jewel of this thing that's supposed to be classy and shiny and polished and hewn and rubbed-off not rubbed-out.

speaking of hewn, R.I.P. to tall gent Peter Mayhew, Mayhew on May Day on May The Fourth, *sadface*

join me the morning after for Sunday Brunch at the local church, don't worry, the parking's free cos nobody does religion anymore. i'll be the one hung over on all the tubs of strawberry margaritas in the kitchen mean back-alley, pouring one out for Chewbacca with my main man Anthony Bourdain.

CLICK HERE FOR THE LIST OF HORSES

happy weekend, my babies. in memory and honor of Chewie imma get that Han Solo breakfast fire-jalapeno hotcakes meal thing from Denny's. served only at 5AM and 2:30PM. i have a working fan theory: Han obviously loved Chewie as a soul-mate and brother, but i think the reason Chewie really liked Han was cos he wanted to eat Han. no i mean in bed. like, Chewie REALLY loved Han if you catch my drift in the cosmos...

THE PURPLE HOURGLASS: CAN FRIENDS GET THROUGH ANYTHING?

Ariana Grande pulls her plum-colored sheer sheets up to the bare freckled large mass of skin that is her thigh sexily displayed on the purple bed. Jim Carrey's eyes are wide and big and bong and come out of their sockets cartoonily but he is not on set and this is not a set. Ariana smiles and chuckles in Spanish.

Ariana: ready, big boy?

Jim wears blue paint all over his face and jumps in and hits his thigh on the pillow and starts spinning sinning so fast he opens up a rift in the already-fragile time-warp continuum. a noisy gears-shattering loud tornado-spinny Tasmanian devil vortex of dust and cloud.

Jim: that's it.

Ariana: over already? what was that? i didn't even feel it. two seconds? i thought you were my one-minute man! that is very disappointing, Jim, i thought this would go better.

Jim: gotta go fast...gotta go faster...gotta go faster faster faster faster faster faster faster faster...what? i'm Sonic. you said you couldn't do it if i'm not in character.

Ariana: speedy is needy. not cool, Jim, you have to show you care, take your time and get in there and rub. rub some misbegotten oilsands on me. rub some salt in my wounds.

Jim: what. i did the thing where i wear the wedding dress, the red lipstick, the veil and bouquet like the Tasmanian Devil did. but that wasn't enough for you cos you didn't get the reference.

SUDDENLY Cameron Platt in a Jim Belushi red-and-black COLLEGE vest storm-enters the room.

Ariana: shit! who are you!? how did you get in here in my room my sanctum!? i'm more sensitive to these things. now.

Cameron: bitch.

Ariana: what are you brandishing at me? at my face. are you another one of my #1 fans?! fan club president?

Cameron: the truth, that's what i brandish. you talk about age-gap sex being hot? bitch I DO AGE-GAP SEX, BITCH! have you said I Do yet?

Ariana: we're going through a patch.

Jim: a cabbage patch...…...*crickets stuck to her window* see?

Jo: you go, girl, do it for the girls like us! now that's a REAL man. he's been a man for a long time. my father went to Princeton to study pincers and British Literature and we never heard back from him again, he went one day to the caf to get some milk and never returned...the dorms were shit anyway but still...

college professor: i thought my situation was a bad romcom but it isn't!!! this is every college professor's dream when he first enters the field. but you never think it's actually gonna happen in real life, it's best-suited for college indie films where no one gets hurt. you put on your shoulderpads and smoking pipe everyday hoping this might be real electric attraction today when you get up on that lecture dais in front of hundreds. the Obec professors are the ones with the thousands, they hog all the overhead-projector spotlight. Cameron was my student. this is why we became professional athletes!

Dirg: oh no, groan, does this mean i have to once again reread all my dusty Faulkner again? no, i hated it the first time around, everyone telling me he is brilliant but all i confused over was Southern Gothic stream-of-consciousness gibberish. it gave me a headache in my consciousness. they should have printed his stuff with the color-coding like Barr does.

Laertus: shush you! i'm watching this for research.

as Gimelstob and his curly hair is taken up into the station with two tennis-gut strings around his wrists, walking slowly making sure his bright-white tennis shoes don't stray from that center white wide tennis-court line, he receives a heckler past the cops.

Roger Federer in all his glory clothed and alone and in scuffed white tennis shoes is there on the other side of the chain-link fence holding up a huge white sign which reads

RUSSIAN TRAITOR

right in Gimelstob's face.

Gimelstob: come on, man, i stanned for you, Roger. i thought all tennis players stick together.

Federer: red means stob. that's what you get for voting for Bump. you ain't nothing but a doorstop, pal, a kickstand. what you did, you're the Ugly american, you couldn't even be a Roddick which is pathetic. i thought i knew you, it's always the funny ones. don't be a part-time friend. you ain't tall enough to evade the law, you're not tall like Comey is tall, you can't stand. i teach Isner now. teach tech? tech teach? no, i will teach Isner how to do a Tasmanian-Devil-speed serve. you give the long line of sacred Justins through the centuries rich bloodline waiting in line a bad name: Long, Long-faced, Trudeau, Bieber, Timberlake, in that order. of knights. i am administering Justin Justice!

Gimelstob: but...this is why we became professional athletes!

President Bump: yeah.

at the Red Circle Table, Maxine Waters is sitting there quietly with her brown headband on covering her perm. Snoop Dogg joins her of course.

Maxine: so Calvin, why'd you take a liking to Martha Stewart?

Snoop: on top of everything else she has going for herself, it was the fact that she's a jailbird. she's done hard time! that is sexy as fuck! she knows the secret to prison sex! watch me tomorrow on SVU, i give my friend Ice Cube a hard time. i mean Ice T.

Maxine: is that a type of coffee-sweetener?

Snoop: so Maxine---may i call you grandmama? you look just like her. ask the teen doctor. what should they do with Barr?

Maxine: impeach that motherfucker's ass.

Snoop: and the President?

Maxine: impeach that motherfucker's ass. that's it.

Snoop: thank you. tune in next time.

at the Hearing, the folks are getting an eyeful of a dysfunctional relationship. no, not Congress and the Executive Branch. they are watching a breakup right at the soap-opera hour of 2PM.

the crowd, both in the pews and the pews on stage, collective-gasp.

Barr is crying, he is sniveling, he reaches his suited hand out to Mueller next to him by the hand-cuffed bendy mic and rubs the water from his glasses.

Barr: what is this, Bob?

Mueller: the letter, open it.

Barr: no, Bob, please. is this what i think it is? that was a private call, it was not supposed to be memorialized!

Mueller: i take notes of EVERYTHING, even my mother's lobster affairs.

Barr taciturnly lifts the note from the paper envelope. he slides it in the bright lights of television with a crunch. he uses the magnifying-glass of his peeper glasses. his head starts to spin, his glasses convulse, he is wrecking himself internally and biting his tongue, his big head shatters.

the letter reads: WE ARE NO LONGER FRIENDS. YOU ARE A MEANIE.

Barr: no. can't be, friendship crumbling. after all we've been through, a lifetime of laughs and cherry sodas and holly. sandals by the dock and Hines. both of us whistling in unison. at the ladies who walked by off the pier. i cannot accept this. so accept my resignation. okay i give. look, my letter didn't do your letter justice, get it? "justice". as in Justice Department? i am shocked SHOCKED to find shortening in this establishment! i mean we're all cops here, right? of course there's shortening in all the rooms of the department, we're all making donuts in there. come on, i wanted to be Jackie Gleason, i look like him...

Mueller: Barr, look at the purple scar on my furrowed brow. that's not a war wound from 'Nam. that's a welt. sound familiar? Weltanschauung.

Barr: heil i mean hi.

Mueller: and can you use another word? i mean at least use catty to describe me, i don't whine. my nose is clean.

Comey: you rang?

Comey runs up behind Barr and dabs his chin on the dabbed point of a fancy restaurant napkin. he cuts Barr's meat for him on the plate in front of him, making sure the yellow flames run high up to Barr's nose so he can smell the smoke as it burns the meat black.

Comey: look familiar, sir Barr?

Comey cuts the meat with a thousand knives. and feeds each morsel of meat into Barr's gob mouth one by one.

Comey: a thousand cuts. of beef. bite-sized. wouldn't want you to choke, sir, small bites.

Barr: i refuse to come in tomorrow. i have a doctor's letter...

Bump is sitting with the other important people on stage bored out of his skull. he stares at his watch.

Bump: man this sucks. you said Katie Hill would be here. we're at The Hill, right?

Pence: on top of the Hill were your exact words, sir.

Bump: and where's Tulsi? i mean on my tv, CNN NEVER COVERS HER! i don't want to be looking at Creepy Joe's butt for the next 16 months! he looks just like me! he's the Democrat Me!

Biden, flower in his plaid pocket: i'm a Herman's Hermits fan who should have entered the hermitage. i don't know if i will take it...

Barr: you know, Bob, i hate when instead of saying "I" you say "the Special Counsel". that's really shitty.

Bump: *checking the scores on his watch* at least there's still Maria...

Maria LaRosa: that Weather Channel infection with the malware virus? yeah that was me, sorry, the mountains valleys and landscape fundamentally alter and create new faultlines every time i have sex, the electric lines literally have to be redrawn, redistricted, and put up again. NOT a dig at my old job. i actually like it up in New York now, it's not TOO L.A. as all of my other bitch colleagues ran to the palm trees. i like Upper New York, it's...not like New York City at all. just like rural California. okay i give, i want to return to my old job but on one condition: and not meteorological conditions: no more with the puns. okay? no more weather puns. like instead of No Mo' Snow we HAVE to say Snow Snow Snow. instead of X-Mas we HAVE to say Wetmas. when i use the term snowjob on air people think it's dirty and i'm covering up with snow but really all i'm saying is blizzard conditions, i'm predicting snow as my job. it will never look like spring, it's always winter somewhere. and somewhere, a hurricane is forming at any given time. and there's no Mother Nature, that's not a thing, I am Mother Nature and i'm mad! i need a drink.

Gladyce: about that bacon...

Doryce: what.

Gladyce: you know bacon just isn't good for you, in any way. if you eat bacon everyday, your colon is a dead snake which will bite off your insides. bacon clogs up your arteries and clogs up your drains, you gotta get a butt plumber to come in and change your pipes from all that caked-in grease.

Doryce: i like cake. it's my birthday today...i think. but i love bacon! cos it's good. especially as a side with krinkle fries as the main course.

Gladyce: *in DJ Khaled voice* and another thing. all those potatoes, all that starch ain't too good for you either. maybe it was better when you didn't know how to cook a spud.

Doryce: where to? Are, Sweden in the Vanny Devito? Bread and Roses Strike with Guns N Roses? La Douleur Exquise so i can exchange my L.A. Gear card for shoes and prison tats? Stanislaw Cole Slaw?

Laertus: that's a hurtful nickname but you two are my favorite ladies and are so so cute.

Doryce: tricky relatives with galaxy brains? Foodi which looks like a black-coffee machine to drink? Top Noms Bistro? it's hard to find a good bistro buffet. Whitby Castle cos the Brothers---who are paragons of sound mental health---aren't getting along? Galentine's Day with concurrent notes in my one-tear diary cos bitches love pizza. Melbourne Fringe Festival, now that suits us.

Gladyce: with Melbourne?

Doryce: Grand Prospect Hall? for prospects of hunky Australian men. Temple Bar?

Gladyce: which one, the London one or the Dublin one?

Doryce: no, just the bar one.

Gladyce: oh how i love you. just remember, if you must eat meat, watch for that dried glue that appears on the corners of meat baskets, the plastic container ones you know? don't eat that glue. glue is for horses. have you been working on your spells?

at Max's boxing show, Molly Q is at the desk. they have a red round table of sorts. their guests come streaming  in.

Molly: nice atmosphere, i like the New York City skyline backdrop of tall buildings in the back. this studio looks like the night scene of the Mike Tyson's Punch Out training montage scroll with the black dude on the bike and Little Mac in a pink hoodie. that reminds me of our present situation with you and my husband.

Max Kellerman: speaking of, let's welcome to my studio King Hippo and Bald Bull!

King Hippo: i could never be the real champion. cos i got a booboo bandage X on my tummy. i eat too much bacon fat, my crown is too small for my head. the doctors tried to enter my stomach here to give me that rapid intense insane weight-loss surgery in one swoop without diet and exercise, with the bands, but it didn't take. i was the first to try it in the '80s.

Dirg: you have the same bandage Deborah Norville has on her neck.

Laertus: i hate Inside Edition, celebrates the worst instincts of rural America, the so-called "real people". pure trash tabloid tv. when there's real human tragedy and suffering, the show uses that annoying radio-blooper scream sound which cheapens everything and negates the import. like what they're doing with that Disney Ted Bundy movie, the tone is all off, it's campy, it's catty, when it should be condemnable.

Bald Bull: i could never be the real champ. cos Charles Barkley stole my identity, here, check my cards. my credit cards. i had a real job, i was the undisputed champ before, held the belt on my large head for a year, till Tyson and the Nintendo bags of money came along. i coulda been a contender. and then Charles Barkley started showing up to all my mall events......it's like what he did with that other Mike, Jordan...

Dirg: what time is it? what time it is! hey, why you crying?

Eye Luggage: oh just feeling Cyndi Lauper Time After Time silver trailer-park in the naked woods with tv and blanket and train. i saw her OTC medicine ad. Lucas, let's do this.

Laertus: GREAT film. i love how they just go for it. they openly discuss suicide with very young students. and Winona Ryder is perfect in her first role, you can already tell with how she thinks suicide is beautiful and poetic that she WILL evolve into our goth queen princess of the '90s we all loved dearly with our black hearts. Lucas had some sort of developmental problem, i think, it was the '80s so it had to remain mysterious...

Dirg: code for PC and nebulous. Kerri Green! that girl had the best two back-to-back years out of every actor who ever lived. but once again WHAT HAPPENED!!? everyone lost their first sperm to her and she disappears, she coulda been Meryl! she had so much momentum, she was the dream of every awkward boy with glasses.

Laertus: nice twist with the mansion-on-green. didn't suspect he didn't live there. this gives representation for fishing boys and flyfishing boys and fly boys, boys who like to fish. speaking of fishing tackle, Charlie Sheen is a good guy in this one, the jock who protects, you don't see that often with '80s jerks. of course the whole real-life sodomy thing is problematic and illegal forever and casts a pall.

Dirg: hey, the real pain shown on One Corey's face, not acting. the confusion of adolescence. not realistic for the jock tho. i wish they had fleshed out the sidestory where Lucas helped Sheen with his homework cos he got the measles from seeing a Marvel movie in a theatre or something, that whole explanation is odd. not to mention we don't get to see Lucas's real trailer-trash dad, would have been a hoot.

Laertus: to understand Lucas's motivation more. was there abuse? white-gloved not just silver-gloved. heartbreaking, the scene when Lucas is in the hospital bed and he and the girl make a pledge never to lose touch...you always lose touch, kid, especially with your forever friends, that's the pain of life.

Dirg: the hospital bed was a standard '80s trope.

Laertus: the intro, the swelling sad music along the railroad tracks, very nostalgic and sonder and passing-by punctures to the heart, of time wasted and gone by. my only complaint is the end: why the hell would his motivation be simply to become a jock? it doesn't make sense for a bright boy like him, like being a football player was the end-all and be-all for all kids? that's his singular journey in life? to get a letterman varsity jacket? not to be a bug doctor from Brown University?

Dirg: for all '80s kids back then, it was, yo. no way a cheerleader would like classical music. unless what she really loved was the sewer smell and wanting to get with ninja turtles. it does bring up the genetic lottery theory which is very true. that scene with Kerri and Sheen in the laundry room went on WAY too long and shirtless. what school has a laundry room?

Laertus: city schools back then. it was all about the quarters---laundromats and arcades. my dad told me about the scariness of those large assembly hall assemblies where the students go wild and the teachers aren't strong enough to stop a riot. the intense bullying of a dork on public display on stage being mercilessly harassed by the steroid mob was real, and nobody stopped it or stepped in. let the poor kid get trampled by trauma. the threat of suicide was real and scary back then, and there were no guardrails from the principal or Catholic parochial schools nearby. those Encino municipal non-religious free-public-school woodchip too-free stages with the bendy loudspeakers which never worked were death traps. fleeing to Under The Bridge before Cobain.

Dirg: that B-movie insectology film they all watched was informative, about their mating habits, very interesting. gone are the days when an entire townsworth of school students ALL converge at the same film house for a Friday-night showing, what communal bliss! everyone you know from school all cramped into the same dark room, can't escape the bullies on the weekends! now that's dark. best part of the film: when the curly jewish dude races into the music marching band practice room to declare Lucas is gone and the first thing Winona concludes is that this must mean Lucas killed himself! what a riot! that would have been.

Madame Pons: *on the phone but using a séance spell* hello sis, how have you been? *muttered under her breath* i'm fine thanks for asking. where have you been?

Taki: nevermind that, where have YOU been?

Madame Pons: waging a war. on my thighs and the world. look, babe, i know you're not gonna like this, you were counting on me to pick up the deed to the Treehouse and everything but...well, movements take money...revolutions are for the rich...i'm afraid i'm gonna have to use that money to fund the campaign, no more house for me, i'm off the lease deed.

Taki: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA?

at the Clearing:

Laertus: so we love each other, right? even though we've only known each other for a short while.

Llywarch: time...…...let's not get into that. we do love each other. you know all these years we were typing to each other and DMing each other online secretly without anyone else in our lives' circle knowing about it, everyone wondering where we were? well, THAT IS DATING in this modern age. WE WERE DATING this whole time! that wasn't just talking, that's spending time together, that is what a date between two people is now, never touching, only keystroking, two creatures enjoying an ice cream cone together in a private booth chatroom, licking just the two of them in the ether.