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the latest
waddle: good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03 elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01 building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19 ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09 my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04
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LATEX AND PAY PHONES, AND THEN THERE WAS EMPTY SPACE Why don't you call some pay phones? You can search for one in your own state for true hometown pride. Talk to a possibly friendly local, a crack dealer, a prostitute, or one of the random people who likes to pick up a ringing pay phone (like me). So fun! Kenophobia is fear of voids. Perfectly reasonable to fear a void. Scary void. CHICKEN PEN I spoke of my anniversary-gift chicken-shaped pen yesterday but I realize that it's not the easiest thing in the world to IMAGINE IN YOUR MIND. (For maximum fun and games, please say those last four words out loud in a stupid over-enunciated magician/hypnotist voice.) Here is a extreme close-up of the chicken pen. It is made of carved wood and it writes in blue ink. Hooray for the chicken pen!
SEMI-FICTIONAL BOOKS THAT HAVE BEEN USED AS PUNCHLINES OR PLOT TWISTS 1. To Serve Man There must be more. Is it really a list if I only have two items? (No.) LET ME BUY YOU A MAP Last night I went out for beer ($1.25 drafts!) and had a wonderful time. Do you ever have that thing where you look around the bar and think: We are most likely the only people in this bar talking about music theory and cracking ourselves up at the idea of trying to do a harmonic analysis of a Wagner opera? And making Hindemith jokes? (This page confirms what I thought I remembered: that Hindemith played the viola. So we can combine the Hindemith jokes and the viola jokes into one big stupid dorky classical-music joke book! That will save time!) Some of these papers are pretty interesting. Anyway. The story I was trying to tell was not so much about my bar experience but about my getting-home experience: I think I've finally found the worst cabdriver in the whole city. He had no concept of Chicago geography at all, had never heard of my street (and I gave him only the major cross-streets), had trouble driving (wildly oversteering on every turn and then having to correct the swerving cab), and, when we overshot Western and had to turn around, admitted, "I don't see well in the dark." Upon (gentle, friendly, humorous) questioning, it turned out he was a biochemist from Senegal and had been driving the taxi for only three days. We were both laughing by the time I had navigated him all the way to my house, and I gave him a huge tip, saying, "You may be a great biochemist, but you're a lousy cabdriver, so here's the only tip you probably will ever get." CARTOON THOUGHTS Mickey Mouse: Vain as a drag queen with that poofter hands-on-hips swagger and those little short-shorts. DOUBLEPLUS GIGANTOID SUPERMEGA HUGE-ASS MONSTROUS GULP Soda containers are getting larger and larger. I occasionally require caffeinated fizzy artificial beverages but WHO CAN DRINK THIS MUCH SODA? Even a can is too much for me sometimes. And things like this are just insane. IS THAT A LATKE IN YOUR POCKET? One of my ever-rocking dirty-minded friends made a joke the other day about eight straight days of oral sex and the punchline "Hanukkah Lewinsky" was in there somewhere, and I can't remember precisely how it went but it's funny even so, even here, even in my non-humorous re-telling. Right? Right. I'll just give you "eight days of oral sex" and "Hanukkah Lewinsky" and you can make up your own damn joke. I learned a new joke of my own too, but it's kind of long and involved and I have to touch your face while I tell it (not in a bad way), so I'll save it for some time when I am not just text on a screen. Remind me. Thank you all, and goodnight. ---mimi smartypants is behind the times. back/forward |
