Mac

Does not have a paint program.  Or at least not one that I can find.
And I'm not up for thinking of another post after I spent the last 20 minutes coming up with Bat-Tholomew.
Guess you'll just have to wait until later, sorry folk.

And the Award for "Best Move Two Months After you Already Moved" Goes to.....

Thank you, thank you everyone: it's great to be here after that weekend of nothing but driving:
I don't know where to begin- I had such a great time with all of you, but I guess I'll just start: Oh, I really should have written something (hold for laughter)
(fumble through jacket)
Oh, I did!

To the 152: You have intrigued me with your exit named "Dinosaur Point". It was really hard not stopping both times, what could be at Dinosaur Point?  I think it's better I don't know, so I'm not even going to look it up online and find out.  The mystery has to be better than whatever you actually are.  ....right?  See!  It's so exciting!!

To the woman in the goldish/copperish sedan on the 152:  Thank you, without you, I never would have realized how great all the other drivers in the bay area are in comparison to you.  Those speed limit signs that said 60?  You took those and you laughed right in their faces!  So what if there were 15 people behind you freaking out and I had to get home to work with the internet guy!  There were some great views of cows and grass, I'm sure you had good reason to go 40 miles per hour.  (P.S. the gas pedal is the one on the right.)

Bay area drivers: Don't you think I'm letting you off that easy!  GO.  FASTER.  This isn't the last you'll hear of me either.

Girl at the rental car place:  Good for you, working 60 hours a week.  Thanks for sharing that with me.  your can-do attitude was inspiring to be sure.  I hope you get that quesadilla you were hoping for ever so much.

To the guy at the pizza place a couple tables away from us tonight, thank you for eating your own boogers.  I saw you pick, then you were hovering around your mouth for awhile trying to be discreet about it, but I know what happened down there.  My brother saw it too the second time- don't worry- your performance was not for naught.  I know you suffer for your art, but for those few moments, I want you to know it was worth it.

To the cop that wrote me a ticket today:  You can pretend you didn't pull me over because it was a red sports car, but let's stop kidding ourselves.  Also, thank you for not asking me for my insurance, because I left it in my hyundai.

And my stuff ....wow, my stuff.  I left you in my parent's garage for so long.  But your determination, your....perseverance ....is truly inspiring.    Thank you. 


Furnished apartment, you stunk- but you got the job done- and you were in a nice quiet little area of Palo Alto- I'm just a little bitter I was here for two months and didn't run into Mark Zuckerberg or Justin Timberlake once.  I thought they lived right across the street from you when you moved here.  Thank you for having ample parking out front though.

Last, but not least, to Southern California:
....what can I say that hasn't already been said?  It's been real, it's been crazy, it's been....real crazy (hold for laughter, fight back tears, power through rest of speech) but you did it.  You got us here- the bay area.  Land of slow drivers, recycling, and poorly lit 30 year old shopping centers.  I couldn't have done it without you.  Your slightly sunnier weather, more successful sports teams, and more frequent fires have made me - no, made all of us here, who we are today.  Thank you.  Thank you a thousands times over, thank you.

I'm sure there's a MILLION people I forgot- but we'll be back- I promise!

TOP TEN REASONS I'M GLAD I'M NOT A LEGO MAN

10. C-shaped un-flexible claw hands with no opposable thumbs make it hard to honk bicycle horns
9. Red hat with brim bigger than head not a good look
8. Head is constantly being replaced with cooler redbearded pirate or scar guy
7. Effort it would constantly take to remove feet from floor when walking
6.While the child-bearing hips are a plus, Lego babes don't have a whole lot going on otherwise
5. If instructions get lost and house gets ruined in a natural disaster, only thing I know how to build is a giant wall or a boat with helicopter blades attached to the back.
4. I like having a nose.
3. The constant desire to smack that smirk off of everyone's faces!
2. I don't look good in yellow
1. Duplo is where it's at baby!

Uncharted Comedy Territory: Air Travel!

I've read that the angle at which airplane seats are set up when you "recline" them is the same angle at which torturers keep their victims in order to cause the most discomfort.
This thought was exactly what one wants to be entering one's head after a long day of travel when you're trying to make yourself fall asleep on an airplane.
When you're trying to sleep midflight the following things always happen right when you reach the point where you're going to leave the realm of conscious thought and enter "sleep":

-The Stewardess asks you if you want a drink.
NO I DON'T WANT A DRINK I HAVE  MY SEAT BACK THE LIGHTS OFF AND MY EYES CLOSED!  Do you want an umbrella for the flight?

-The pilot mumbles something about wind at a decibel loud enough so the people we are flying over can hear him.

-The person next to you decides to turn their light on...in your face, turn their weird air nozzle thing on...in your face, or sneeze....not in your face, but sneezing is really loud.

-Your own fat head wakes you up by becoming so heavy it violently loses its battle with gravity and you get jerked awake.

So you end up spending the length of the flight in this weird limbo state between sleep and being awake- which only causes you to become more groggy than you were when you got on the plane.
Or if you're really lucky, you think you fall asleep for what seems like 3 hours, and wake up thinking "Awesome!  Now I bet there's only thirty more minutes of flying left!" Only to find out you were really out for 15 minutes and have 3 more hours of flying left.

P.S. Stop giving us the "we're landing soon- turn off your stuff and put up your treys" speech when we're not landing for another 30 minutes.

I Like That the Woman From Small Wonder was in That Scene

I'm in the airport.  It's been a long day of traveling.  I'm about 3/4 of the way to Steve Martin's meltdown in Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. 
The woman sitting behind me cannot BELIEVE you could fit a WHOLE LEG OF LAMB IN A SKILLET.

Thought you'd all like to know.  She's obviously trying to tell as many people as possible, so it must be important.

Neptune Puts the "Neat-O" in Magnetosphere!

The school year sure is long, isn't it kids?  I bet you have to get up in front of all your classmates and do another presentation soon- so I thought I'd help you out with some grown-up knowledge on the planet Neptune!  Just color a ball of styrofoam that you bought at Michaels blue, and repeat this in front of the class verbatim.  

How many planets do you know of that have a trident?  Mars has a bident, but Mars is the angry red planet, so I'm always like "chill out mars, k?"
Which is EXACTLY what Neptune would do!
Neptune is fresh- like a cool breeze over a hot mountain's peak.
All the other planets need some sort of gimick to get on t-shirts and cereal boxes, but not Neptune.  Teach- you don't know the half of it.
Hit it girls!  (this is where your classmates will do a meticulously choreographed song and dance to the tune of "You N Me Party 2 Nite")

Neptune Neptune the ball of ice
No other planet is half as nice
Dont need no rings
Dont need 30 moons
Neptune came to yo party
He bring you balloons

So basically, that's why Neptune should be annexed as our 51st state.  The United States really doesn't annex enough things, so why not start big?  The planet Neptune- at least we don't have to worry about global warming there- ha!

 Also, I am well aware of the fact that Neptune does have rings, they just suck so they might as well be dead for all I care.

So your name is "Boo Youdonthavetocryaboutit"? Is that German?

If it weren't for the fact that it's sad, I think being sad is pretty funny.
Crying can be hilarious in the right context, and reactions like lying on the floor for hours or eating your 5th round of Planters Honey Roasted Peanuts when you were satisfied after round 3 is also humorous.
So the next time I look like I'm down in the dumps or could use some comforting, feel free to point and laugh.  I'm sure I'll look back later and remember the good times about my weekend spent in bed with all the shades drawn.

Questions from Beyond

Why do aliens always have features that are exactly human except for around three other things?   Like a long head and eyes with no pupils, or three eyes instead of two.  All the vast everything that is the Universe, the probable infinite possibilities of other life that exists, and the other beings we see in fiction are humans, but just a couple feet taller and furry?

Why do we always picture God with a robe?  If I was God, I'd wear a kilt.  And a lobster hat.

And why is heaven always made of clouds?  What's so great about clouds?  My heaven is made out of burritos.  And really comfy beds and pillows.  And robot dinosaurs.

Mad Scientist

Hello, thank you for coming down to corporate headquarters today, I know it was a little ways off of your daily commute.  Please, have a seat and shut the door behind you.

Now....there's no easy way to say this, but - I think we've made a mistake.  Now normally we'd just have your manager let you go, but I felt like this one was on Evil Inc. as a corporation, not just on Marty. 

Why?  Well Dr. Diabolico, we feel that you misrepresented yourself a little bit on you resume and in your interview.  Take you name, for instance.  Dr. Diabolico- it sounds great, a lot like Diabolical, just with an O, but only after we hire you, do you tell us it's Italian in origin and not pronounced anything like the word diabolical.  You could have told us this, Dr. -we mispronounced your name several times in the interview, and Marty mentioned he even did it on your phone screen.

But it's not just the name, of course.  There's the actual act of being a mad scientist that you've failed to come up short on.  When we asked you to go out and terrorize citizens, you jumped out from around corners and started shouting complex chemistry problems at them, while we were thinking something more along the lines of...say a freeze ray that puts city hall in a big block of ice.  What you did was more angry scientist rather than mad scientist, do you see the difference?
No, Dr. Diabolico, it's not just semantics.  That truck full of caged monkeys were sent to you so you could infuse them with our Evil Inc. brand hypno-virus, but instead we just have footage of you kicking them around your lab.  Again, more angry than mad scientist.  And a mad scientist would have had gotten a terribly malformed vengeful man or built some sort of a killbot for his lab assistant, instead you hired an undergrad from State and just complained to her all day about your ex-wife. 

Frankly, I'm not sure how you managed to get your degree from Death Hill University, I know the dean there and I'm going to have a word or two with him about this.

You will be compensated with a half-decent severance, and your benefits will run through the end of the month.  We do ask that you be out of your lab by the end of the day though.

Of course.  I'm sorry it didn't work out too.  Although, a word of advice, moving forward, a real mad scientist would have vowed revenge on us all rather than shake my hand and thank me for the opportunity.
My secretary will show you out.

Laughter: The Best Medicine ....Aside From Actual Medicine

What did the leased car say to the other car?

Nothing!  He was a loan.

















So very, very alone.







.

Smart Talk with Art Krenshaw: Jan 18th

Hello all, for this first time this year, Art Krenshaw is back to share his insight and experience with us. This week another concerned parent has a question for our resident expert.  Please enjoy another edition of Smart Talk- with Art Krenshaw!

Art Krenshaw is an expert in human behavior. He's studied sociology and anthropology at Northern Kansas University and currently teaches on the side.

SMART TALK

with

ART KRENSHAW

Dear Dr. Krenshaw,

Hello.  Hope you had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you.  My problem is with my 16 year-old son, David.  David has been a good kid his whole life, and still is.  I think he may have fallen in with the wrong crowd though and am worried he will end up in a gang.  What kind of advice do you have for me?
Signed,
Worried




Worried,
I think there's no need for any sort of worrying.  It sounds like you're a parent who is very much a part of their child's life and that's the absolute most important first step you could take.  The equally important second step is to make sure your child does not join a gang.  He should start one of his own.  One that will be able to rise up through the ranks and violently crush the other gangs menacing your town.  That way, at least you know he'll be the one in charge.  Like the Shredder.  The first step in starting a new gang is picking out a great name.  It has to be something that the kids respect, but also is catchy enough for people to remember.  Something like "The T-Wreks".  This way, an image of a large man eater is conjured, and the misspelling gives it what kids call "street cred".  Tell him to feel free and even use a Z instead of an S at the end of the word too.  The second step is recruiting members.  Murdering a fake person- say a dummy, or a poorly built robot- from far away has worked wonders for the kids here in Kansas.  Step three is to procure a hideout.  Any abandoned warehouse or meat packing plant will do. 
With these three easy steps completed, your kid will be on his way to avoiding joining a gang in no time!  And, as an added bonus, your family will probably be pulling in all kinds of extra cash- what with the drug money and all.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Interesting as always!  Until next time, this has been another edition of Smart Talk- With Art Krenshaw!

That is Fogged UP

Fog: The Silent Killer.

Unless there's a fog horn around.

Have you ever thought about fog?  I mean really thought about it.  Not just sitting around thinking "I wonder where fog comes from?"  No, I'm talking about hardcore, Beverly Cleary style thinking about fog.
About fog's hopes, dreams, the way fog combs its hair when you're trying to sleep, or the way it tries to tickle you, and you're like "come on, fog cut it out" but you're laughing, so fog keeps going when really you're only laughing because you're being tickled- then you just get super angry and take a swing.  Then it's on.  I mean, like turning your car on when it's really foggy and then turning on your fog lamps.  Fogs hate fog lamps.  In the same way lamps hate people from Missouri.
We're cool now though.  I mean, it's just fog, right?  It's not like I was planning on having lunch with fog next week or going to the Hamptons or tenderizing some meat for some brisket with that meat tenderizer you just bought when fog just "happened" to mention earlier today that fog already knew you can just use cumin seeds to do it, when really, I think this whole brisket thing was just an excuse to go into williams-sonoma.

TOP TEN NEW "CRAZY LIKE A FOX" SAYINGS

10. Malicious like a Chinchilla
9. Counter-intuitive like an elk
8. Determined like a toucan
7. Overrated like a newt
6. Ambitious like a giraffe
5. Horrible like a koala
4. Machiavellian like a gopher
3. Shiny like a goat
2. Insecure like an otter
1. Clinically diagnosed with dementia like a fox!

Genie of the Lamp

   So, you've found me.  After all that hunting, the cave diving, trap dodging, and riddle answering you made it here.  And somehow accidentally rubbed this oil lamp and out I popped.  The genie of the lamp.  What were you doing rubbing an oil lamp, anyway?  I know I kept it clean.  Who uses oil lamps these days?  Wouldn't you have rather had the giant crown and all the gold coins that were next to this lamp?  Oh that's right, the legend.  Man, if I ever get my hands on Earl.... you think you can trust ONE person, but no- the ONE guy ya trust- goes out and starts telling eeeveryone he can find about the magic cave, the magic password, the magic carpet and the magic genie.
  Well, you probably want to know how this works.  Did you ever see that movie "Aladdin?"  Oh.  Dang.  I was hoping you hadn't.  Believe it or not- get this- it's a little embarrassing- I've never seen it!  Weird right?  Yeah, you'd think it would be right up my alley, and with ultimate power and the lifetime of 1,000 men to do nothing but hang out one would expect me to have seen every movie ever made by now.  But no.  I was mostly playing racquetball and perfecting nutella so it had a taste that people other than weirdos liked now.  Hey!  You want that to be a wish?  Wish for some great nutella.  OK fine.  So since I haven't seen Aladdin, how can I explain this....I Dream of Jeannie!  Have you seen that one?  OK great.  It's not like that though.  But can you believe that Barbara Eden?  And she's aged so incredibly well!  You want to wish for her to fall madly in love with you?  I'll even make it so it's a non-belly buttoned version.  She will be literally mad however.  Yeah, I'm one of those a-hole genies that twists the words you say around so you end up hating your wishes.  It started off as some sort of lesson about appreciating something something but ....I think really I'm just kind of a jerk now.  That's pretty big of me to admit, isn't it?  I think I've really grown- not just as a genie, but as a person.  I have a therapist in there.  Her name's Dinah, she's a real hoot.  She hates me for stealing her away from her family, but like I said, I'm a jerk.  I'm trying to get over it though.  Really, I'm trying really hard.  You don't even wanna know about my childhood man.  Yeah.  Genies have parents.  And mine always wished I was better at baseball.  So let me try and be better.  Let's get started:
  Rules:  There are no rules!  Seriously.  Go ahead and wish for more wishes.  Boom.  Done.  Now what?  Infinite wealth?  Done.  World Peace?  Accomplished.  A real version of that Jessica Rabbit only not bald on one side of her head?  You got it bro.  What else?  You want to be able to fly?  You know what, I like you.  So let me help you out here.  You want to be able to fly, but not all the time, and as fast as you want, otherwise I'd just make you fly at a snail's pace.  And as high as you want without freezing or burning up in the atomsphere.  Oh and you probably want to be able to breathe.  And not have the wind get in your eyes and mess up your hair.  Oh, and planes and birds and bugs and stuff.  Don't want to be running into those.  Yeah, so I think that should cover it.  Hey no problem.  Why isn't it working?  Probably because I didn't do any of that stuff- I don't have to give you any wishes, ya big sap!  Haha.  Now get out of here.
Oh, I did make your water bill really high for the rest of your life though.

Interview with Former President Grant

ME: Hey!  Ulysses S. Grant!  Thank you for being kind enough to GRANT us an interview.
ULYSSES S. GRANT: I had no say in the matter.
ME:So, how does it feel to be on the 50 dollar bill?  That's a lotta dough.
ULYSSES S. GRANT: I do not care about such things.
ME: Hoo-boy!  So Ulysses, that is an interesting name- you know, not many people have it these days.
ULYSSES S. GRANT: Not many people have it in my day either.
ME: .....right.   The Civil War huh?
ULYSSES S. GRANT: .......
ME:Nobody was acting very civil were they?
ULYSSES S. GRANT: No.  Many people were killed.  In a horrible manner.
ME: Yes.  Well the wordplay is a lot funnier now, a lot of time has passed.
ULYSSES S. GRANT: It is not funny to me.
ME: Man, this interview is not going very well either....Ulysses!  You have any questions for me maybe?
ULYSSES S. GRANT: I am curious as to how I came to be in this place.  The last thing I remember was addressing my troops. Can you please return me to my war?
ME: Don't worry about it, you already died a long time ago.
ULYSSES S. GRANT: Oh. I see. Well did I die a happy man?
ME: ........That's a nice beard you have.

Six Characters in Search of an Author and One Hungry Time Traveler in Search of Some Food

I laid down the horrific looking mask on the table, mimicking the face that this bronze monstrosity made back at me. The gladiators weren’t too happy I took it from the actor right on stage, but I just told them I was Apollo, the sun god, and wowed them with my lighter. Suckers. My name is Edward Marionetti, and my job isn’t like any other ordinary job; no, for my job I rip apart the very fabric of time itself. That, and make coffee and donut runs whenever my boss requires. I’m a cosmopolitan, well-traveled attaché, or at least that’s what people tell me. I guess these are qualities that my boss finds endearing, but I think he really just wants me around because my Dad works for the biggest Pez factory in the western hemisphere, and well, let’s face it Pez is a delicious candy and hook-ups are a rather large bonus in this day and age. At any rate, you’re probably wondering who exactly my boss is, and how it is that I’m able to travel through time.

The only difficulty with answering that question is, I don’t exactly know. You see, my boss is a rather…mysterious figure. I just get e-mails from “timeismoney05@hotmail.com” that tell me where and when I need to go, and what he wants me to get. From what I’ve gathered, my boss is having a real identity crisis. Not in the every-day, “I’m 45 and I’m getting old so I need to buy a cool car” kind of crisis, more of an existential, “what exactly is the true self” kind of crisis. So far I’ve had to travel to the dawn of time to try and chronicle the first moment that man became aware of himself. I couldn’t tell whether it was when he looked into the river and saw his ugly cave-face staring back at him, and tried to punch it, or if it was when he noticed the first cave-babe walking around and decided to suck in his cave-gut. So I just told him there was something about cave-paintings or something. I don’t even remember, but it sounded a lot more scientific than anything I really saw. Pre-historic times were really boring anyway. But I’ve done some really cool stuff. I’ve seen the birth of Jesus, found out who really killed JFK, and hung out with Alexander the Great. I even helped him come up with the name. Yeah, before he met me he thought “Alexander the Good” was the best possible option, but I set him straight.

So anyway, I guess my employer has been having some crazy dreams lately, or been really into that Freud fellow, because he seems to be getting into some surrealism, sub-conscious stuff. And it’s with that that I’m sent off to Rome, in the year 1921 to view the first production of Luigi Pirandello’s "Six Characters in Search of an Author". Apparently this is some sort of surrealist play where these characters interrupt the play that’s going on onstage and try to have their ending figured out for them. Sounds like a real riot to me. But I guess it’s the kind of stuff my employer really finds fascinating, the whole “Are we really playing characters in our everyday lives?” kind of thing. I guess he hopes that somehow I’ll be able to give him some sort of vital information about the essence of our being or something from going to this thing. Here’s the e-mail I received from him a couple days ago:




Mr. Marionetti:

It is of my wishes that you travel to Rome in 1921 and view the first production of Luigi Pirandello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author. I would like you to report back to me audience response and original style of acting. You will be overly compensated for your efforts.

How could I say no to a trip to Rome in 1921? I dressed in my red and white striped shirt, black pants, and put on a thick black fake moustache and was on my way. As I pulled up to the downtown warehouse in which the time machine is stored I was reminded of how much I dislike the actual act of time travel and just how flippin’ hungry I am. All this time travel talk distracted me from the usually very important task of eating lunch. But anyway, I dislike time travel so much, because not only is the vessel I travel in about as big as a couple port-a-potties put together, but there’s not even a place to sit down inside of it. The time machine is made to look like a giant rock, and I suppose it does, enough that anyone who saw it wouldn’t think twice. How it works, I’m not quite sure. I just know what buttons to press. Green, blue, triangle looking knob, then enter the date into the calculator looking pad on the dashboard. And only adding to the horribly boring fact that the time machine has no place to sit inside of it is the fact that each time trip takes exactly 9 hours, 24 minutes, and 15 seconds to complete, no matter how far back or forward in time we’re going. So I get in the machine using my handprint voice identification, set the controls, and away we go.

I step outside only to notice a funny scent of bacon in the air, wondering why exactly 1921 would smell like bacon. Then I see the sky has inexplicably turned green. As I finally begin to figure out what happened, a giant Aardvark wanders up to me, adjusts his overalls and asks what he can help me with. I tell him I must have entered an extra “one” into the date on my time machine by mistake, give him a firm handshake, and head back to give it another try.

After entering the right date into the time machine, I take another bite out of the bacon flower I picked from the ground and travel through the fabric of time. It doesn’t fill me up nearly as much as I would have liked it to. I really should have got a whole bouquet of them. Or maybe even tried some of the bean flavored bark. At any rate, the trip is a long boring one, and 9 hours, 24 minutes and 15 seconds of me sitting on the floor and standing around later, I arrive at my destination. I exit my machine and clearly I’m in the 1920’s. There are women dressed like flappers running around, people with a look of paranoia on their faces as they drink their liquor, and the Charleston being danced all around me. Ah yes, the roaring twent- AW COME ON!! This is America in the 1920s, not Italy. I always forget my time machine doesn’t take me to the place I want to go, just the time.

So after traveling for three long boring weeks across a boat overseas and then through Europe, I finally arrive in Italy. I had the time machine shipped with me so that I wouldn’t have to go through the same thing after I was done with this stupid play. Not only was the ride long, but the food on the trip was horrible, I’m barely eating enough of this garbage to keep me alive, and man am I HUNGRY. At any rate, Italy isn’t nearly as much of a rip-roarin’ place as the Unites States was, it seems grainy to me and has the overall look of a country that had just been through a massive war. After stopping off for some disappointing pizza (give me a slice of Uno’s any day) I finally make it to the theatre where this play is happening. I speak fluent Italian, something I picked up from my many days playing Super Mario brothers, so I walk right up to the ticket taker and order myself a couple of tickets. It’s around 7pm and the theatre is dimly lit. It’s a fairly large theatre, seats about 400 people, and the house looks to be nearly full to capacity. Most of the audience seems to be dressed fairly nicely, and there seems to be a decent mix of genders and races in the audience. Mostly Italian looking people though. I walk in and find my seat, I’m right in front, and sit down. The curtain is already drawn on the proscenium style stage, and the set looks to be rather bare.

I sit down and……wow. This chair is very comfy. Man alive, I don’t know if I’ve ever sat in a more comfortable chair. If I wasn’t so hungry I’d fall asleep right- hey wait a tick! Is that over there-? Why I believe it is! Old man Luigi Pirandello himself. Right down to the Freudian beard, the super bald head and the extremely melancholy look on his face. I wanted to go over and try to cheer him up, and maybe see where I could get a good meal around here, but some guy came on stage and started banging the floor, so I had to be quiet and pay attention. I think he was part of the production, but at this point I don’t really care, all I want is some food. The first act of the play is excruciatingly long and after about thirty minutes all I can think about is how this Luigi guy think he’s soooo clever, but little does he know that I’m the one with the time machine. Not so smart are you know, Luigi? Jerk. I decide after about twenty-five minutes that I’m going to play a joke on him during intermission, and so I start to formulate it in my head. I start to daydream until the curtain falls and it looks like the break is upon us. Most of the audience looks a little confused, but I follow Mr. Pirandello out to the foyer area.

I start talking to Luigi, telling him how I thought the play was presenting some interesting ideas, and he asks me to introduce myself. I tell him my name is Henry, and we continue talking. After a few minutes of chatting, I walk into the room and stand next to myself and Luigi. I introduce Luigi to myself, also, as Henry, and continue talking. You see, what I had decided to do instead of watching the play, is make old Luigi really question reality and what his true self was. So I made sure to think about how when I got back I’d go back again to this exact moment in time so it would look like there was more than one of me in the same place at the same time. Now instead of doing this just once, I thought I’d do it three other times, and each time introduce myself as Henry, so there were four of us standing there. Right when the fourth one of us walks up, Luigi makes some snotty comment about how he’s Henry the Fourth, and how that gives him an idea for another one of his plays. Instead of being amazed at four of me being in the same place at the same time, he’s thinking about plays. What a jerk. He probably just figured we were quadruplets anyway. Oh well. I’ll still show him, I’m just not sure how. The bell rings and I go back to my seat, the other three of me go find seats of their own as well.

I watch the rest of this boring play, again thinking about how hungry I am, and again thinking about how comfortable the chair I’m sitting in is, when it suddenly hits me. Apparently I figure it out just in time too, because the play seems to be over. One of the characters ran off the stage laughing and the audience looks very confused and upset. I don’t really care because I’m busy trying to rip the chair I’m sitting in off the floor so I can put it in the time machine. Then I’ll have something to sit on AND stick it to Luigi by taking chairs out of the theatre that the premiere of his stupid play was in. I hear the audience start to boo and yell things out at the stage- man, they must really not have liked this play. They start to leave as I give the other versions of myself a heads up and they start taking their chairs out of the floor. They’re dispersed throughout the theatre and I guess everyone else likes the idea of messing with the chairs, because they stop in their tracks on the way out of the theatre and start ripping their chairs out of the floor and hurling them at the stage. A few other people light fire to the curtains and a full on riot has broken out after the premiere of this play. My selves and I run out of the theatre with our chairs and out to our time machines, realizing that we’ve just accidentally incited a riot which will go down in history and give Luigi Pirandello much of his fame as a controversial playwright, when really all he did was write some crappy play that the audience would have booed and walked out of if we didn’t start stealing some chairs for our uncomfortable time machine.







I went back and told my employer that I improved upon his time machine by putting a comfy seat in it, and that the play he wanted to know all about was boring.






Needless to say, I never worked for him again.

Behemoth Donkey

What is Behemoth Donkey?
It is one of the most dichotomous beasts in all the land, sea, bird, and sky.
Is dichotomous a word?
Behemoth Donkey says it is.
Can Behemoth Donkey talk?
Only if it has something to say.
How long has Behemoth Donkey walked the earth?
Behemoth Donkey has levitated the Earth for grillions of years.  That is to say, much like the mighty hovercraft, Behemoth Donkey has floated around it for as long as it takes to grill many onions.  Grillions of years.
Is Behemoth Donkey just a huge Donkey?
Are you?
Behemoth Donkey is a majestic creature.
Many have saught the council of Behemoth Donkey, few have won.
Behemoth Donkey respects all man.
Yet despises all mankind.
When Behemoth Donkey makes a journey, only those closest to him know why.
Why he chooses to fly coach in an airplane, when the great beast could simply blink an eyelash and be wheremever he choose.
Is Behemoth Donkey dangerous?
Only in the way a hive of bees is dangerous to a daffodil.
Behemoth Donkey drinks neither air nor liquid,
but prefers his cola frozen.
Once Behemoth Donkey ordered a pizza
The pizza was cold so he didn't want to pay for it.
The only way Behemoth Donkey would pay for that pizza, he said, was if we called the store back and got another one delivered.
But it was during the playoffs, and the pizza guy was clearly exhausted.  He even mentioned to us when he delivered the pizza pies that it had been a really busy night and his coworker Annie had called in sick, though anyone that knew Annie knew she really was probably just watching some stupid reality show with her loser boyfriend.
So we really pushed for Behemoth Donkey to give the guy a break.
Behemoth Donkey towered over us
The way a Woolly Mammoth towered over a lego man with the backwards hat.
He refused to pay for that pizza. 
Behemoth Donkey's kind of a jerk.

A Visit with Sarge

Gerald walked into the Sarge's office.

It wasn't the smartest thing to do, nor was it the bravest. To be brave, it would have required him to know the foolishness behind it.

Gerald paused at the door, and noticed the well polished name plate and how even the knob seemed to have an overachieving glow behind it. He knocked twice and after hearing a low, growling voice call out “Who is it?” He slowly opened the door and responded.
“What in the name of blue hell are you doing coming into my office like that private?” bellowed the Sergeant. “Do you have any idea how dearly this is going to cost you?”
Gerald wasn't very bright, but that he did know. He wasn't looking forward to the consequences, the hard labor, and the intense verbal beating him and his platoon were going to get. He thought back to the miles ran in the rain, the countless pushups until his arms couldn't support his body, and the many times he himself was almost in tears, though he would never admit it to anyone.

And that's when he thought about quitting.
“Look Sergeant Fluffy Mittens.” He said.
“I know you run a tight ship here at Sparkle Ninny's Cut and Groomers, but I think it's time for me to move on. I'm going AWOL.”

With that, he turned and walked away as briskly as he could, for he knew he could never bear to face the rage that must have been coursing through the Sergeant's eyes on that cold January morn.

Ay! I'm Walkin' Here!!!

Taxi drivers either love their jobs or hate everything about life and you're worried they're just going to keep driving at every stoplight until they've put you and themselves out of their misery.  There's no doubt about it, either.  Right away when you get in, you know.  It's either "Hello!  Where are you going how is your day?" or "WHERE.  grumble grumble."

I enjoy taxi rides, even though they all smell, and since seeing Taxi Driver I hate to think about the other people that have used the taxi- but the worst part is watching that meter.  STOP RUNNING!!  I'm not a fan.  Having a counter that shows your money quickly evaporating is terrible.  Especially when there's nothing you can do but sit and watch.  And hold on for dear life as he swerves to avoid (hit?) a squirrel.


Why aren't there any female cab drivers?  Sexists.

Brrrrrrrr

Cold and rainy. 

I was going to write the next great Blog post of our generation, but the weather sapped all but my will to live.

Thank the Weather Channel.  You guys missed out, it was REALLY going to be good.