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Thursday, November 24, 2005

Long Awaited Answers To Musical Queries

Hello, is it me you're looking for? - Hello
Nope. I was actually waiting for the pizza guy.

Why can't this be love? - Why Can't This Be Love
Perhaps it is because I neither like nor respect you. Maybe it isn't love when you bring someone home for a simply quick roll in the hay. Or it could just be that you are a stalker.

What's so funny 'bout peace, love, and understanding? - (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love And Understanding
It isn't that it is funny, per se. Merely that it is kind of silly hippie nonsense, you know? How can I take you seriously when you talk like that?

How do I breathe without you? - How Do I Live
I don't know. Perhaps some vicks vapor rub and an humidifier. That usually works.

When you close your eyes, do you dream about me? - When You Close Your Eyes
No, actually I dream about being naked and being forced to give a report in grade school. Sometimes I can fly. It's weird.

If I don’t need you then why am I crying on my bed? - If You're Not The One
Quite possibly because you are a pussy-assed little bitch.

What would you do if my heart was torn in two? - More Than Words
I'd probably be freaked out. That's some Friday The 13th type shit there. Seriously.

Why in the world Would anybody put chains on me? - Easy
I don't know. Did you commit a crime or something? I mean, if you are in prison, chains and shit kind of go with it. Otherwise, I would say that maybe someone want's to do some S&M shit with you.

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? - Bohemian Rhapsody
Man, I hope this is real life. If my fantasies are this boring that would suck mucho grande.

Are you lonesome tonight? Do you miss me tonight? Are you sorry we drifted apart? - Are You Lonesome Tonight?
Whoa. Slow down there, Elvis. Let's take these one question at a time. No, I'm not lonesome. No, I don't miss you. The reason I'm not lonesome is that I am married...and not to you, buddy. Drifted apart? When the hell did we drift together? I think maybe you are a stalker like that "Why can't this be love" guy. Seriously. Lay off.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Lost Novel of Ernest Hemingway

Many great novelists have work published posthumously. Often times, it isn't the best work which is why it never saw the light of day during the writer's lifetime.

Other times, we are given a glimpse of what could have been. Just a teasing sample of the work we will never truly see.

Some of Ernest Hemingway's journals have been discovered recently. Scholars have found a tantalizing look at an adventure novel he was preparing.

It is believed that this was something he struggled with from his teenage years onward.

Unfortunately, at this time only a small fragment of chapter 14 exists.

Obviously, this small scrap of a larger whole raises many questions:

What happened between man and beast deep in that jungle?

What level of eroticism did this all lead to?

And frankly, what the hell kind of story was Hemingway trying to write here?

These are all questions that are impossible to answer at this juncture. We can only hope that scholars will discover more about this lost tale of adventure and intrigue.

As always in cases like this, there are those who claim that this is not the work of Hemingway at all. That it is obviously just a brief passage scribbled on two small pieces of notebook paper by someone who isn't Hemingway. Probably while drunk.

To the naysayers, we will simply state the following: Fuck off. You are ruining our article.

We prefer to believe that this is a scrap of a greater Hemingway masterpiece lost to the ages. Additionally, we hope that Jimmy got the upper hand with that horny monkey.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Idiotic Shit I Believed When I Was A Child

Children don't really understand the world around them. Consequently, often times they create a whole new reality in their heads. This faux-reality should go away as one gets older. Otherwise you end up being John Hinkley or Charles Manson. That rarely works out well.

The following are some idiotic things I thought when I was a child.

Black and White World

Based on televised and photographic evidence I had compiled, I was convinced the entire world was black and white until about 1963. Then everything magically turned color. I would ask my mother what the world was like before color. She would usually just ignore me.

X-Ray Vision

If you hold your hand in front of your right eye and allow yourself to focus both eyes on an object just past your hand...it sort of appears that you are looking through a hole in your hand. Yeah....I thought I had X-ray vision for awhile there. Of course, in my defense, I was watching a lot of episodes of Superman so it seemed a viable power to have. Luckily, I never tried to fly.

Conditional Existence

For a brief time, I operated under the delusion that the existence of television shows was wholly dependent upon me observing them. Hence, if I didn't watch a particular television show that day...it simply never aired. That particular fantasy quickly crumbled when I heard others discussing watching something that I had yet to see. Clearly, time and television wait for no man. Not even me.

Water Filtration

After viewing commercials about water filters you can install on your tap, my sister and I set out to build one. Millions of dollars were soon to follow our great creation. Basically, we took two dixie cups and cut the bottoms out. The we poked a shitload of holes in a piece of paper and placed it between the cups. At this point, we would pour water through one cup, down through the holey paper, finally exiting the other cup. We were convinced the water tasted worlds better. No one else agreed. Additionally, we never sold our water filter and the millions we dreamt of are now lining someone else's pockets. Someone with an actual degree in some form of science.

Indians Among Us

I watched a great deal of Westerns on Saturday afternoons. Before cable television, the few channels that existed merely showed old movies on weekend afternoons. A steady diet of westerns convinced me that there were shitloads of Indians laying wait in any nearby wooded area. I was always afraid I would stumble onto a teepee or two and not know what to do (the old movies didn't exactly paint Native Americans in a flattering fashion...and I was a dumb kid). In my later teenage years, I tried to recruit some friends to actually do this (dress up like stereotypical Indians and hide in the woods) and scare the hell out of hikers. Nobody would do it. Buncha pussies.

Substance Abuse

When I was a child, I was convinced that drinking, smoking, etc. were very bad and I would never ever participate in anything like that. I was mistaken. Whoops.

In my adulthood, I rarely believe anything so outrageously idiotic as the things I believed as a child. I now understand the world better. I now know that the government has my best interest at heart. JFK was killed by a consortium of Italian mobsters, aliens, and CIA officials. The fluoride in the water is a CIA mind control device. George W. Bush is the greatest President in history and he really really cares about black people.

See. I'm not gullible at all anymore.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Closing Arguments

Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, you have only one decision you could possibly reach and that is simply that my client is innocent.

My client barely knew the women who was killed that night. He concedes that he may have had sex with her once or fourteen times...but he never even knew her last name! Wouldn't you think someone would bother to learn a person's last name before bludgeoning that person to death? I would!

Not that I would bludgeon anyone to death. I'm just saying.

I may have dropped the ball a little on the whole fingerprint evidence thing. I truly thought our fingerprint "expert" was an actual expert. As it turns out, Tom Hanks actually had nothing to do with this event and we sincerely apologize for inferring that it did.

Believe me, that is the last time I let my cousin Frank talk me into using one of his "expert" poker buddies. But I digress.

Sure, the prosecution has thrown "DNA" evidence at you to place my client at the scene of the tragedy. But what is this "DNA" anyway?

Have you ever seen any "DNA"? I haven't. I don't know what it looks like, what it symbolizes, what it's hopes and dreams are. I don't even know what party this elusive "DNA" even votes for. And in this time of great turmoil in our country, I'd like to know which side this "DNA" is on: us or them. Know what I mean?

Additionally, my client makes some damn fine macramé art. That ought to count for something. Ever heard of a murderer who works in macramé? Nope. Me neither.

Across the board, the prosecution has completely failed to make their case.

Except for the fingerprint stuff.

And that whole "DNA" thing, which I am still pretty skeptical about and I believe you should be, too.

In any case, remember the macramé.


You must acquit.


Thursday, November 10, 2005

Big Damn Poetry, Redux

For your intellectual and artistic edification, we offer a few more choice and tasty morsels of poetics.

Ode To My Package

My Junk has many powers
Some I've yet to discover.
It often waters flowers.
My wife can make it hover.

Cheesy Stuff

If I only had some cheesy stuff
my popcorn would have flavor.
I'd like to have some cheese popcorn,
A taste that I could savor.

If I only had some cheesy stuff,
then I could cheese my corn.
I'd eat up all my cheesy stuff
and then I'd watch some porn.


Condom, oh, condom
How you protect my cock.
Condom, oh, condom
For when I'm hard as a rock.

You protect me through sex
and even earthquakes.
Oh, what a difference
A prophylactic makes.

Condom, oh, condom
I put you on my stick.
Condom, oh, condom
The best friend of a dick.

Ramses, Trojan, Magnum.
They all work good as gold.
Ribbed or lubricated,
don't let them get too old.

Tuesday, November 8, 2005

How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria

1. Feed her. Maybe she's hungry.

2. Buy her something shiny and expensive. It might distract her.

3. Take her to a movie.

4. Kill the bitch.

5. Boot camp.

6. Family Counsiling.

7. Chop up her credit cards.

8. Lock the bitch up in a nunnery.

9. Take away her car keys.

10. Put her on medication to stop all that singing and spinning on mountaintops.

11. Plastic Surgery.

12. Give her an imaginary friend to buy yourself some peace and quiet.

13. Make her take piano lessons.

14. Threaten her.

15. Lock her up in a medium sized metal box and stash it under the staircase.

For those of you who didn't get the reference, it is a song from The Sound of Music...which is on television every year. Get with it, man.

Monday, November 7, 2005

Blogging on World Domination

Some excerpts from Tyler McGee's blog about world domination.

9/9/2005 5:48 pm

OK. A few of us have been talking and we have decided to pool our resources and put together an elite team with an aim towards world domination.

Obviously, we will have to start small. Possibly take over a Canadian province or something. I've heard those guys don't fight well. Too nice, and whatnot.

Anyway, I am working on a list of things to be acheived. I will post it soon.

9/12/2005 1:12 am

Here is the list I mentioned earlier.

Shit to achieve upon world domination:

1. All religions will be combined into one: Jedi

2. No longer answer to "hey you", "dork", "nerd", "fanboy", or "asshole". I will be known as Jedi Supreme. (You guys can pick your own names.)

3. Make my Mom start showing me some fucking respect.

4. Move out of my mom's basement. (Seriously. You guys should, too. Except you Denis. Move out of your Dad's place. We know your mother died earlier this year and I didn't mean to reopen that wound. Sorry.)

5. The Sci-Fi channel will expand to five channels:
The Star Wars Channel
The Star Trek Channel
The Battlestar Galactica Channel
The Hot and Horny Ladies of Sci-Fi Channel
The Regular Sci-Fi Channel.

6. Have some sex. (Don't laugh. I'm not the only one thinking about this.)

7. Kick Dad's ass.

8. All restaurants will be Taco Bell...just like in Demolition Man.

9. Get in shape with a personal trainer. If that fails, unilaterally declare that fat is the new thin.

I am open to any ideas about other entries on the list.

9/14/2005 7:58 pm

OK. The list seemed to meet most everyone's approval (Sorry, Denis, your "improvements" sucked and will not be incorporated into any future revisions).

This Friday (16th) we will meet at Denny's to discuss strategy.

Additionally, I will probably get down on a Grand Slam Breakfast. Those things are great. Two of everything. It is like if Noah made breakfast. So balanced!

9/17/2005 2:56 am

OK. The turnout for the strategy meeting was more than a little disappointing.

If you guys aren't planning on coming, you could at least let me know.

The Grand Slam Breakfast was fucking awesome. You guys missed out.

9/20/2005 6:57 pm

OK. After a few long, and not always polite, conversations with a few of the guys, we have decided to change course ever so slightly.

We will now focus on putting together a musical version of The Creature From The Black Lagoon.

Everyone meet in my Mom's basement tomorrow for rehearsals and coffee.

9/22/2005 1:17 am

OK. Seriously. If you assholes aren't going to show up for anything you could at least let me know.


I made a shitload of coffee for nothing. Bastards.

9/22/2005 3:28 am

Screw it.

The world domination plan is back on.

And Denis...you don't get to join. Asshole.

Sunday, November 6, 2005

Sock Monkey: An Artform

There were many talented, and even great, painters in the 20th century. Most of them had one thing in common.

It wasn't the medium: some used oils...others used watercolors....yet others used acrylic.

It wasn't the style: the century brought us cubism, abstract expressionism, fauvism, dada, etc.

It wasn't even a passion for the comedy stylings of Benny Hill: although curiously, very many painters of various backgrounds did find the portly comedian quite amusing.

No. It was....sock monkeys.

Almost every major artist at some point experienced his sock monkey period.

Pablo Picasso dabbled with sock monkeys during his cubism period.

Socky (1911)

Note the lifeless eyes and yet playful lips.

There is a vivid and strange combination of mirth and death within this painting.

He also did some monkeys in his blue period, but those kind of sucked.

It is believed that Jackson Pollock also dabbled in sock monkeys, although if he did it is almost impossible to tell from his work.

Henri Matisse worked with the monkey off and on throughout his various art periods.

His fauvist sock monkeys, while absolutely breathtaking, are all owned by private collectors and rarely appear in any collections of his work.

As is the pictured dancing monkey from his collage "Jazz" era.

Jazz Monkey (1942)

Note the sweep and hint of movement from the shadowy monkey playing in the night. Wonderful!

Jean-Michel Basquiat created three notable sock monkey paintings.

All three are in private collections, but we were able to provide one.

Much like his more famous "Irony of the Negro Policeman" and "Famous Negro Athletes", the one featured here "Negro Sock Monkey" was from his early to mid 1980's black history period.

Negro Sock Monkey (1982)


Although we searched high and low, we were unable to discover any work from the "sock monkeys playing poker" genre. This genre was quite popular in the early 1940's, but quickly made way for the more expressionistic sock monkeys which followed. These days, most examples of "sock monkeys playing poker" can be found in basements and flea markets.

The next time you see a lonely sock monkey sitting on a table at a garage sale, don't snicker. Don't giggle at his bland relatively non-simian looking self.

Think about what that visage has brought to so many artists. Ponder the impact that icon has played in the art world.

And then buy him. They are really snuggly.

Saturday, November 5, 2005

Lies I Have Told

I once convinced a vegetarian that croutons were made out of dolphins. She almost threw up the half-eaten salad she was consuming when I threw out this piece of nonsense. Sorry, ex-vegetarian friend.

Gunshot Wound
Once, while drunk, five of us were filled with intoxicated testosterone and began discussing various wounds received during the manly art of combat. One guy showed some scars from where he was stabbed. Attempting to one up him, I claimed to have been shot in the stomach. When pressed for more details, I lifted my shirt and feigned shock that the scar had apparently gone away. Two people continued to believe me. I blame the booze.

Vegetarian Fish
My sister flopped down on the couch next to me as I was eating dinner one night. She reached over to snatch some of my food. In a feeble attempt to stop her, I told her she wouldn't like it because it was vegetarian. I was eating fish. She believed me. Vegetarian fish. I don't really feel too badly about that one, because she shouldn't have believed something so stupid.

When I was in Kindergarten, I convinced one of my classmates that I was an alien robot sent to Earth to monitor him. He cried a great deal. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of choosing to tell this lie on parent's day. With his mother a mere four feet away, it didn't take long for me to be shown to the hallway and reprimanded sternly. That kid never talked to me again.

I really hate telephone salesmen. Usually, I look at the caller ID before answering the phone, but in this instance I forgot to check. It was a salesman. A particularly pushy salesman. I suddenly blurted out that I was beginning to bleed from my rectum and probably needed to seek medical care immediately. I hope he didn't have weird nightmares after that. Sorry, phone guy.

Rodeo Clown
During one Christmas season, I bumped into someone I went to high school with. She told me how she went to law school and was now a big lawyer in D.C. At this point, she asked me what I had done since school. I didn't think "jack shit" would be a very good answer. For some reason, I blurted out "rodeo clown". Once it was out there, I knew I was screwed so I had to just go with it. I elaborated on how my life had been in shambles before I began rodeo clowning and how the zen-like calm found within the confines of the barrel has brought me a level of peace I had never know before. You could see the look of pity in her eyes. If I ever see her again, I'm going to tell her I gave it all up to become a private investigator.

Joe Nameth
I convinced some of my friends I knew Joe Nameth. When pressed, I was forced to fake illness so Joe would come meet me. My father gave me a stern lecture about honesty and responsibility. Wait. That wasn't me....that was Bobby Brady. Nevermind.

See. I even tried to tell a lie for that last one.

Mea Culpa

Wednesday, November 2, 2005

15 More Egregiously Bad Opening Sentences

An addendum to our earlier 15 Egregiously Bad Opening Sentences.

1. After travelling for what seemed like hours, I pulled the El Camino over to the shoulder of the road. Bud pulled the cigarette from his mouth and said "yep, this seems like a good place to dump those dead hookers and rodeo clowns."

2. Walking past an alley, he noticed a woman being robbed by three swarthy men. Growing excited, Chip realized that this was his chance. He began farting madly.

3. Cornered by the three angry bikers, I suddenly realized that studying karate would have been a better way to spend the last three years of my life. Less so, haberdashery. I was screwed.

4. At that moment, I realized all those know-it-all fuckers were right. There was no way in hell I was going to get that squirrel out of my rectum without some serious medical assistance.

5. The third time I had vigorous sex with that week old watermelon I began to feel a little dirty.

6. As I wrapped the three dead hookers in plastic and deposited them in the trunk of my stolen Honda, I suddenly remembered that I had three overdue books from the library sitting on the kitchen counter. Additionally, there was a shitload of blood.

7. Unfortunately, I had walked for three blocks before I realized I had left my penis at the ATM machine. I would definitely have to go back.

8. When the beating stopped, I reached up and wiped the blood from my eyes. It will never cease to be amazed by the insane power of my three-year-old niece's overhand right.

9. Out of the corner of his eye, Newton noticed movement. It was that damn rodeo clown again. The fucker was following him.

10. "No, Fuck You," I shouted. My three-year-old niece simply wept softly in reply.

11. Persperation trickled down his forehead as Slaps McGee frantically tried to decide whether to cut the blue wire or the red one. Finally making a decision, he cut the blue wire. The display went dark. Two minutes later, Slaps realized that all he had done was successfully broken an alarm clock. There was no bomb in the nursery. He was more than a little embarassed. The children were still crying when he exited the building. The parents, however, were pissed.

12. There was no way in hell I was going to return that video tape...and there was nothing those fuckers could do to change my mind.

13. Have you ever had one of those days where you awaken and find your head lodged firmly in a bovine's ass? Thankfully, this wasn't one of those days.

14. I formally declared war on the entire continent of Asia on a Tuesday. By Wednesday, I still hadn't heard a reply. Things weren't going well.

15. Fuck them. I'll show them all. They will pay for their insolence.

Tuesday, November 1, 2005

15 Egregiously Bad Opening Sentences

1. It was at that moment that I realized those weren't, in fact, my buttocks.

2. As the midst shrouded the city, Chip realized his work was only beginning.

3. Simply surprised, Shirley simpered softly.

4. And that's when everything went to shit.

5. Oh man...this does not bode well.

6. The grizzled detective knew he probably shouldn't have fucked that hooker.

7. Shots firing off wildly, the blind seizure-prone paraplegic failed to hit his mark.

8. A strange sensation overtook me as I glanced down, and to my mounting horror, realized that I had awoken without my penis.

9. As I gazed at her lovingly and caressed her bosom, it suddenly dawned on me that this woman may not be a woman at all.

10. I was halfway down the street before I remembered that I had to return some videotapes....those fuckers were going to charge me a penalty fee if I didn't get them back in time.

11. Those rodeo clown bastards weren't going to catch me.

12. Leaving the party, I searched my pockets frantically before finally resigning myself to the fact that, yes, I had left my penis back on the second floor.

13. Ha!

14. Noticing a small dog tinkling softly upon my new Italian loafers, I allowed him to finish before kicking him sternly in the side and shouting "You're not my mother!"

15. Suddenly, overcome by the stench, I removed my head from the bovine's ass and washed up.

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