XIV

Let me tell you about a young asshole I met once.

We'll call him Lance.

I had the pleasure of meeting Lance down at Lake Alice during a Lunar Eclipse, earlier this February. He was down there, with his laptop, just chilling. He hastily acknowledged me and stated that he was an astronomy major, watching the eclipse, as though I were there to take him away in cuffs. I responded with a simple "good evening" and we sat there in silence for a nice five minutes, watching the earth's shadow blot out the moon.

Just as the moon was almost totally eclipsed, a sneeze broke the silence and Lance was off to the races. This kid had memorized the narration of the first episode of The Universe and decided to regurgitate it to my date and me. He went on about dark matter, black holes, worm holes, and the Big Bang. I was able to squeeze in a small bit on string theory, but he just brushed it off and explained that humans' trying to understand the universe is like an ant trying to understand calculus.

After his ninety minute banter Lance finally introduced himself, shook our hands, listed the numerous theater projects he's currently involved in, and informed us that his last name is a palindrome. I introduced myself, but before I finished my sentence he interrupted me, saying that he had to head home. He packed up his laptop, explained that he had to be up at 5 to train for a triathlon, wished us the best, and disappeared into the woods.

Lance killed my date's mojo.

XIII

I have a love/hate relationship with watercolors.

XII

I can't believe I'm having to copypasta for you people.
I hope you're happy.


One day on Halloween, I decided to fuck with the major retard at school when I came out of science for break. He was dressed as Ash. Knowing this was going to happen, I brought a Mudkips doll. Thus I started the conversation, making sure no one saw me.

"So I heard you like Mudkips..."

"Mudkips? I LUUUUUUUUUUUURVE MUDKIPS."

"Well uh would you fuck a Mudki-"

"OF COURSE!"

" happen to have a Mudkips here, and..."

Before I finished the sentence, which would have resulted in me hitting him across the face with the doll, he grabbed it. In one swift motion his pants were down and he was violently humping it. Not to get between a man and his Mudkips, I started to walk away, because there is no way I'd be caught wrestling a half-naked crazy guy humping a Mudkips.

Needles to say, within 5 to 10 seconds, some girls saw him and started screaming. I cooly walked into a restroom, pretending nothing had ever happened; not that I had intended that outcome, but now that it was in play I didn't want to be involved.

I came back two minutes later, and like any wanton act on school grounds there was now a huge crowd round him. He was still fucking it and baying this real fucked up 'EEEEEEEEEEINNNNF EEEEEEEEEEINNNF' sound. Suddenly a scuffle broke out in the middle, meaning he probably did something stupid. I asked someone what had happened. A girlfriend of one of the football players tried to get him to stop, but he bit her for trying to take it away. Someone called in a few football players (all dressed up like Road Warrior) who proceeded to pummel the shit out of the guy. Meanwhile the school police were freaking out and having trouble getting in to the situation.

A few minutes later the intruder alarm went off and we were shuffled into classrooms. Over the intercom the principal announced that someone had thrown a flaming plush toy into the library. Uh.. what the hell.

So we were kept there and about 30 minutes later the principal came on again. This time he was saying that whoever was behind the beating should turn themselves in. All of a sudden this woman began yelling “I WILL SUE YOU FOR DAMAGES. YOU LITTLE PUNKS, I’M GONNA SUE…” and it was cut off.

I asked an office later what had happened. Apparently his mother had come to pick him up and threatened to sue for the beating and 'whatever else happened.' The school threatened to counter-sue because of lewd conduct, inciting a riot, and starting a fight.

So I ask you: do you like Mudkips?

XI

X

The END is coming and you may die!

There has been a lot of talk of Armageddon lately. From Mayan predictions to asteroid storms predicted in the Bible Code, everybody is looking at 21 December 2012. The running joke among us gun-toting, baby-saving Republicans is that Obama will have fucked things up so much by 2012 that...well, you know.

But no, you have it all wrong. We all remember back in '98 when we gathered in Sherman to welcome the X-ists that would destroy the Pinks. And we all remember being so disappointed when we came down off our high and realized the Normals were still walking among us. Ddate Program Theorists rattle on about the date being read upside down, that X-Day won't come until 8661. However, we Yeti refuse to belive that we'll have to wait 6653 years for the flying-saucers' rendezvous. The end of the world is and forever will be set to end 5 July 1998. The Gregorian Calendar is wrong. 5 July 1998 has yet to come.

I am proud to announce, dear readers, that this 5 July I will be in New York to welcome the Sex Goddesses.

And to the Burners (you know who you are) I'll just add that THIS Church is proud to pay its taxes. We're for-profit, we want profit, and we want to cast out false profits.

PRAISE "BOB"

IX

Call me petty, but I just don't like you.

VIII

Thanksgiving Prayer

To John  Dillinger and hope he is still alive.
 

Thanksgiving Day November 28 1986
 

Thanks for the wild turkey and
the passenger pigeons, destined
to be shat out through wholesome
American guts.


Thanks for a continent to despoil
and poison.

Thanks for Indians to provide a
modicum of challenge and
danger.

Thanks for vast herds of bison to
kill and skin leaving the
carcasses to rot.

Thanks for bounties on wolves
and coyotes.

Thanks for the American dream,
To vulgarize and to falsify until
the bare lies shine through.

Thanks for the KKK.

For nigger-killin' lawmen,
feelin' their notches.

For decent church-goin' women,
with their mean, pinched, bitter,
evil faces.

Thanks for "Kill a Queer for
Christ" stickers.

Thanks for laboratory AIDS.

Thanks for Prohibition and the
war against drugs.

Thanks for a country where
nobody's allowed to mind the
own business.

Thanks for a nation of finks.

Yes, thanks for all the
memories-- all right let's see
your arms!

You always were a headache and
you always were a bore.

Thanks for the last and greatest
betrayal of the last and greatest
of human dreams.

 

-William Burroughs 

VII

HOLY GOD YES, MEAT! MEAT MEAT MEAT MEAT MEAT!

Who knew that something I like could produce things I like?

Words of encouragement!



Say, that's a real variety of meats. Kids LOVE sweetbreads!



Wait a minute...



You know what I really like in a meal? SURPRISES!



"But," I hear you declare, "I only know how to cook for women!"



"Ouch!", "Might not be terrible...", and "Who doesn't enjoy those?!"
In that order.



Golly, those were some great meals, but now what?



Well, I hope you've all learned a little about cooking with meat...and with luck, a little about yourselves!
Have a great day, kids!

Originally posted 9.6.08 on the myspace blog

VI

Upon awakening this morning, I turned to my lover and asked if he had given any thought to surviving a Zombie Apocalypse. Surprisingly, and disappointingly so, he didn't have an answer for me. I've figured my room would be an ideal place to hide, if I didn't have a way to get out of town. 3 stories up, dead-bolted steel door, cinder-block walls, a sink for water, and a balcony with one hell of a view. Sure, maybe my best bet would be to just sacrifice myself to live amongst the undead, but at least it doesn't sound as bad as being dismembered and disemboweled in the stairwell. I reminded myself that there is no food in my room. Nonsense! I have a hamster, a fish, and a roommate.

They say you learn something new everyday, and today, my lover informed me of an unfortunate biological trait we've adapted.

Since the dawning of civilization, cannibalism has been as natural as sex- every species does it, some do it more than others, some see it as a holy rite, and some look down upon it. What is often ignored is that if you eat your neighbor's arm before it is cooked, you'll throw it right up. This thought unnerved me. We eat raw fish in our sushi. We're only ever told to steer clear of raw beef, pork, and poultry because of parasites and bacteria. Surely at some point in recent time there have been cases of people eating raw human flesh and keeping it down. Right? Right? Wrong.
After extensive research, I've come to find that this fact is, sadly, true. Jeffery Dahmer, the Donner Party, Liver-Eating Johnson, and the survivors of Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 all roasted their victims/friends/coworkers over an open fire before consumption. I cannot express in words how far down my spirit sunk when I confirmed this fact. I imagine it's how the colorblind kid in that sappy movie felt when he found out he couldn't grow up to be a fighter pilot. Congratulations, human race, you've managed to over-evolve yourself to the point that if you had to survive off of eating each other, you'd better have a fire.

V

Another Halloween has come and gone.

The costumes change annually to keep up with whatever the Disney Channel is pumping into our kids' decaying minds, but one thing remains constant year-to-year:

Types of Houses Trick-or-Treaters will encounter

The Shut-In: This particular asshole will hide. Their lights go off for a couple of hours, and when the kids have left, the lights come back on. The unfortunate side-effects of being the 'shut-in' include getting "COCKCHEESE" written on your bay window, and the ever so popular egging.

The creepy old pervert: When asked "Trick or Treat?!" they are eager to see your treat, and then offer to show you their treats as well. Note: watch for their tongue licking their lips.

The Anti-Halloween Pentacostoids: They are rare, but usually one per neighborhood. They appear to be the friendly type and will even smile as they place a treat in your plastic pumpkin. Note: hey kids, this is where those little comic Bibles are coming from. Parents, don't try to return the tracts, because this might result in an ear-fucking diatribe about how you are in violation of...

EPHESIANS 5:11
or
I THESSALONIANS 5:22

The neighborhood cracked-out haunted house: We've all seen them, and sure as hell have been to one. Ironically, it is the neighborhood pariah who turns out to be this over-achiever that cluster fucks every light socket in their house with black lights, strobe lights, and other various motorized gadgets. This overgrown man-child will answer the door with a chainsaw and a hockey mask, scaring the crap out of children to the wonderful hardcore retro 33rpm record of Disney's Haunted Mansion Soundtrack (chilling thrilling sounds of the haunted house).

IV

A rat king is formed when a number of rats become tied together by their tails. Most rat kings consist of a tangled mass of between 5 - 10 rats, although rat kings comprised of up to 32 rats have been reliably recorded.

Rat kings are thought to be formed when the tails of young rats become glued together by feces and urine while in the nest. The knots thus formed are then pulled tighter when the rats attempt to extricate themselves. Sometimes rat kings perish due to their inability to forage effectively. However, they are sometimes also fed by other family members.Attempts to induce rat kings in the laboratory by tying the tails of live rats together have been unsuccessful to the extent that the results look nothing like real kings. However, gluing the tails of rats together has been more successful. Although initially not knotted, the rats themselves struggle until a true knot is formed.


(originally posted 3.9.08)

III

Pope Alexander VI was a lawyer by training. He was among the wealthiest and most ambitious men in Europe, fond of his many mistresses and his illegitimate offspring. He indulged his worldly tastes with great vigor and was one of the most corrupt and secular popes in history. Alexander is perhaps best remembered for his Ballet of Chestnuts, in which fifty courtesans crawled naked on the floor collecting chestnuts that had been strewn across the papal apartments, following which was an obligatory orgy. Prizes were awarded to men who could make his partner(s) orgasm the quickest, and the most.
Though it was never proven that he was poisoned, after having dined with Cardinal Adriano da Corneto, Alexander started foaming at the mouth. Over the next few days his skin began to peel off, his face turned dark red and swelled, and his stomach turned to liquid. His passing was a messy one. Everything in his death room, including the carpet, had to be disposed of, as his body was said to be spewing sulfurous gas and oozing liquefied organs from every orifice. The priests of St. Peter's Basilica refused to accept the rotting corpse for burial, until forced to do so by papal staff. Although Alexander received his last rites moments before his last breath, Pope Pius III, his successor, forbade the saying of Mass for the repose of Alexander's soul.

II

Wayne Roth, 38, of Pittston, was bitten by a cobra belonging to his friend, Roger Croteau, after playfully reaching into the tank and picking up the snake. Wayne subsequently refused to go to a hospital, telling Roger, "I'm a man. I can handle it."

Instead of a hospital, Wayne reported to a bar. He had three drinks, and enjoyed bragging that he had just been bitten by a cobra. Cobra venom is a slow-acting central nervous system toxin. He died within a few hours, in Jenkins Township, Pennsylvania.

I

Two years ago I sat in the Plaza of the Americas, drinking coffee, smoking a cigarette, and reading for my comparative politics class. In all honesty, I was there with the intent that drinking coffee, smoking a cigarette, and reading a comparative politics textbook would lure the attention of a scruffy lad who takes his coffee black. Needless to say, that only happens in commercials for LenseCrafters.
Near by, the Student Health Organization was passing out free flavored condoms to the mass of students walking to and from lunch. People-watching was inevitable.
You've got the girl walking by herself that takes what's handed to her with unflinching confidence and discretely slips them in her purse as she gets her cell phone out.
Following her, you've got the small group of guys, still wet behind the ears from high school. They diverge their route in order to score these freebies. They take them with some sort of pride and humor, show them off to their friends, walk to the end of the corridor, stuff them in their backpack, then meander back for a couple more.
Then you've got the hand-in-hand couple that have been together since their junior year in high school. She'll take two with a sheepish smile and stick them in his pocket as they walk away quickly, eyes transfixed on the ground.
My favorite is the fratish-looking guy who walks by himself, nose in the air, takes them quickly without looking at the person giving them out, looks over his shoulder, then shoves the little packets in his front pocket with more force than necessary.
The kids giving out the condoms always seem disturbingly chipper. On second thought, I suppose there's nothing to frown about when you're passing out flavored condoms.