Your Girlfriend Sells Batteries On The Subway Day!
"It's just till I can get up on my feet," she said last night, your first night together. You were lying in bed, which you considered a miracle, and you started talking about who had to be up for work in the morning.
"I'm a lawyer," you told her. "I work in copyright and trademark infringement."
She nuzzled your neck. "You'd be able to do quite a number on me if you saw the stuff I sell. They all have the same logos as Duracell and Energizer, but with just a slight misspelling."
You asked her if she has a home. She said that she lives in a one-bedroom share.
"I have seven roommates. They're all real nice."
You caressed her beautiful bare back and you asked her what she's working towards.
"Light-up yoyos and boxing nun finger puppets. Those are the big money items," she said. "And once I have enough saved I'll open up a boutique where I'll sell my handmade leather pocketbooks."
You told her that perhaps you could help her with the startup money and she accused you of being high-handed and started getting her clothes back on.
"Wait," you said. "I'm sorry. Won't I see you again?"
She told you to ride the D train between 7:30 and 10 AM. Her smile let you know that she wasn't going to stay angry.
Today, you should ride the D train between 7:30 and 10 AM. When she comes into your car, she'll look at your headphones and ask if you'd like to buy a pack of batteries for your walkman.
"It's an iPod," you'll say. "Rechargeable."
Her smile will disappear and she'll walk away from you chanting BAH-TEREEE, One dollar. You'll have blown it again. It's not going to get any easier for quite a while.
Happy Your Girlfriend Sells Batteries On The Subway Day!
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Assassinate The President Of Your Block Association's Christmas Decorating Committee Day
Assassinate The President Of Your Block Association's Christmas Decorating Committee Day!
Block Association Christmas Decorating Committee President Susannah Carmine has held her post for seven consecutive terms. But the shame she has forced you and your neighbors to shoulder will be remembered for generations. Every year it's the same thing. Paper bag lanterns on the sidewalk, white lights in the trees, and at the end of the block Santa and his sleigh coming in for a landing with an elf holding air traffic controller glow sticks directing them.
She has no taste for candy canes. Frosty is not on her radar. And her administration can't even get it together to coordinate a series of front door wreathes.
She has to go. Her second in command, Barbara Talbot, is silent at meetings. But at the Ghosins' 4th of July barbecue Talbot it made it very clear she is unhappy with the direction the block's winter display has taken these past seven years. Knock Carmine off the throne and Talbot will do what needs to be done. But it has to happen tonight.
Mr. Carmine will be picking up their son Jake from Lacrosse practice this evening, leaving Susannah at home alone from 5:20 until 6:15. Make it look like an accident (you can use an assault rifle, but leave some banana peels on the floor so that it looks like after she got shot, she slipped and fell). Tomorrow, after some brief mourning, everyone will agree that Susannah would have wanted you to continue with preparations for the winter display. And with that your block will be on its way to decorating for the best Christmas ever.
Happy Assassinate The President Of Your Block Association's Christmas Decorating Committee Day!
Block Association Christmas Decorating Committee President Susannah Carmine has held her post for seven consecutive terms. But the shame she has forced you and your neighbors to shoulder will be remembered for generations. Every year it's the same thing. Paper bag lanterns on the sidewalk, white lights in the trees, and at the end of the block Santa and his sleigh coming in for a landing with an elf holding air traffic controller glow sticks directing them.
She has no taste for candy canes. Frosty is not on her radar. And her administration can't even get it together to coordinate a series of front door wreathes.
She has to go. Her second in command, Barbara Talbot, is silent at meetings. But at the Ghosins' 4th of July barbecue Talbot it made it very clear she is unhappy with the direction the block's winter display has taken these past seven years. Knock Carmine off the throne and Talbot will do what needs to be done. But it has to happen tonight.
Mr. Carmine will be picking up their son Jake from Lacrosse practice this evening, leaving Susannah at home alone from 5:20 until 6:15. Make it look like an accident (you can use an assault rifle, but leave some banana peels on the floor so that it looks like after she got shot, she slipped and fell). Tomorrow, after some brief mourning, everyone will agree that Susannah would have wanted you to continue with preparations for the winter display. And with that your block will be on its way to decorating for the best Christmas ever.
Happy Assassinate The President Of Your Block Association's Christmas Decorating Committee Day!
Monday, November 28, 2005
You Divorced The Pilot Day
You Divorced The Pilot Day!
Your ex-wife, Grace, is a commercial airline pilot and after the divorce you made a point of never flying United to avoid being one of her passengers. It wasn't too difficult, since you're terrified of flying anyway. But considering how incendiary the proceedings were, had she ever discovered you in the cabin of one of her flights it's likely she would crash the whole jet just to take you out.
Today you're flying Delta to Chicago. Unbeknownst to you, Grace left United for Delta about four months ago. She's in the cockpit and she just got a look at the manifest and saw your name.
"Finally got you to take an interest in my work," she says when she comes back to your seat.
"Hello Grace," you say. "You've lost weight."
"No money to eat," she says.
All of the passengers are watching or listening in. You suggest that you take your conversation elsewhere since the other passengers might not like to watch their pilot lose her temper. Grace refuses, so you try to calm her down.
"I have to say, you look better than ever," you tell Grace.
"Are you traveling on business?" she asks. You suggest that perhaps it's best that the two of you not go too much into detail about each other's lives.
"What's her name?" Grace asks. You see her eyes go small, the way they always did right before she would throw a vase at your face. Out of the corner of your eye you see several passengers turn their heads in your direction.
"Smith, Beecher and Weinhart," you say. "A client of mine is being sued by a client of theirs."
Grace asks where you're staying in Chicago and whether it would be okay for her to come and visit you tonight. She really is looking better than ever.
"We shouldn't," you say. "It will end badly."
Grace says that she understands and then she recommends that you fasten your seatbelt because she thinks the plane might be running into some turbulence pretty soon.
"Grace," you say. "Don't be crazy."
She smiles and says that she's sorry but she has no control over the force of the wind in the skies. As she walks back to the cabin, everyone in the plane fastens their seatbelts.
For the next hour and a half, you endure the worst, most terrifying turbulence you've felt. You throw up twice. Your neighbor throws up three times. Several people shout at you for not having accepted their pilot's offer. "Was your marriage so bad that it’s worth risking our lives?" they shout.
"It was a trainwreck!" you shout back. "Nothing but headgames and bile!"
Up in the cockpit, Grace just sobs and jerks the controls up and down and left and right, treating the plane like a bumper car. Her co-pilot has seen her like this before and knows not to object.
A passenger screams at you, "Goddammit go up there and tell her she can have some of that tonight! My wife is turning blue!"
People start tossing their food trays and peanuts at you until you unfasten your seatbelt and pull your way up the aisle, grabbing hold of each headrest as you go to steady yourself.
You knock on the cockpit door and ask Grace to see you. The copilot opens up and you see Grace yanking the plane left and right through the calm night sky.
"You win," you tell her. "I'm at the Radisson."
Grace doesn't stop jerking the plane to and fro.
"Grace, I'm yours. Tonight. Come by."
Grace continues to yank at the controls. You make your way back to your seat. The other passengers grip their armrests and glare at you. The plane continues to bump and shake.
A few minutes later, a flight attendant approaches you with a slip of paper that reads: "Can we get dinner first?" There's a box for Yes and a box for No at the bottom of the note.
"For God's sake hurry!" the flight attendant shouts.
You check the box for yes and the flight attendant clamors back to the cockpit with the note. A moment passes, and then the plane steadies. A cheer goes up from the cabin and several people pat you on the shoulder, talking to you about "taking one for the team." You try to forget that you'll be having a rendezvous with your ex-wife in just six hours. Instead you close your eyes and you dream of land.
Happy You Divorced The Pilot Day!
Your ex-wife, Grace, is a commercial airline pilot and after the divorce you made a point of never flying United to avoid being one of her passengers. It wasn't too difficult, since you're terrified of flying anyway. But considering how incendiary the proceedings were, had she ever discovered you in the cabin of one of her flights it's likely she would crash the whole jet just to take you out.
Today you're flying Delta to Chicago. Unbeknownst to you, Grace left United for Delta about four months ago. She's in the cockpit and she just got a look at the manifest and saw your name.
"Finally got you to take an interest in my work," she says when she comes back to your seat.
"Hello Grace," you say. "You've lost weight."
"No money to eat," she says.
All of the passengers are watching or listening in. You suggest that you take your conversation elsewhere since the other passengers might not like to watch their pilot lose her temper. Grace refuses, so you try to calm her down.
"I have to say, you look better than ever," you tell Grace.
"Are you traveling on business?" she asks. You suggest that perhaps it's best that the two of you not go too much into detail about each other's lives.
"What's her name?" Grace asks. You see her eyes go small, the way they always did right before she would throw a vase at your face. Out of the corner of your eye you see several passengers turn their heads in your direction.
"Smith, Beecher and Weinhart," you say. "A client of mine is being sued by a client of theirs."
Grace asks where you're staying in Chicago and whether it would be okay for her to come and visit you tonight. She really is looking better than ever.
"We shouldn't," you say. "It will end badly."
Grace says that she understands and then she recommends that you fasten your seatbelt because she thinks the plane might be running into some turbulence pretty soon.
"Grace," you say. "Don't be crazy."
She smiles and says that she's sorry but she has no control over the force of the wind in the skies. As she walks back to the cabin, everyone in the plane fastens their seatbelts.
For the next hour and a half, you endure the worst, most terrifying turbulence you've felt. You throw up twice. Your neighbor throws up three times. Several people shout at you for not having accepted their pilot's offer. "Was your marriage so bad that it’s worth risking our lives?" they shout.
"It was a trainwreck!" you shout back. "Nothing but headgames and bile!"
Up in the cockpit, Grace just sobs and jerks the controls up and down and left and right, treating the plane like a bumper car. Her co-pilot has seen her like this before and knows not to object.
A passenger screams at you, "Goddammit go up there and tell her she can have some of that tonight! My wife is turning blue!"
People start tossing their food trays and peanuts at you until you unfasten your seatbelt and pull your way up the aisle, grabbing hold of each headrest as you go to steady yourself.
You knock on the cockpit door and ask Grace to see you. The copilot opens up and you see Grace yanking the plane left and right through the calm night sky.
"You win," you tell her. "I'm at the Radisson."
Grace doesn't stop jerking the plane to and fro.
"Grace, I'm yours. Tonight. Come by."
Grace continues to yank at the controls. You make your way back to your seat. The other passengers grip their armrests and glare at you. The plane continues to bump and shake.
A few minutes later, a flight attendant approaches you with a slip of paper that reads: "Can we get dinner first?" There's a box for Yes and a box for No at the bottom of the note.
"For God's sake hurry!" the flight attendant shouts.
You check the box for yes and the flight attendant clamors back to the cockpit with the note. A moment passes, and then the plane steadies. A cheer goes up from the cabin and several people pat you on the shoulder, talking to you about "taking one for the team." You try to forget that you'll be having a rendezvous with your ex-wife in just six hours. Instead you close your eyes and you dream of land.
Happy You Divorced The Pilot Day!
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Drinks Are On You, Asshole Day
Drinks Are On You, Asshole Day!
In 1888, your great grandfather invented something everybody needs, and your entire family has been rich ever since. All the money came down to you a year ago and when your Mom died, and you've been trying to come up with new fun ways to spend your wealth ever since. Today, you should go into a bar, buy everyone in the bar a round of drinks, then act like an asshole until you get chased outside.
"Drinks are on me!" shout into the crowd of patrons. Everyone will look at each other to see if anyone recognizes you, then they'll all agree to give thanks with a simultaneous, "Yaaay!"
Shout, "Yeah, I hope you choke on em you fucks!"
They'll all put down their glasses and wait for more from you. Don't give them anything. You don't want to blow your wad yet. Just let them all order their drinks, then lay your credit card down for the barkeep.
The barkeep will ask, "And what'll you have Niceguy?"
Tell him, "Nothing. I wouldn't drink with these miserable humps if it was gonna buy me two more mansions on two more mountaintops."
One of the customers will step off his stool and ask, "Do you have a problem with somebody mister?"
Say, "I got a problem with you if you're gonna drink up my charity and then mouth off to me."
The customer will say, "Come again?" Two of his neighbors will have climbed off of their stools to flank him.
Say, "You'll never see me come here again. Now slurp that welfare cheese of a whiskey so I can go and close down a racetrack just to see how fast my new Ferrari can vroom."
The customer will slam his drink down on the bar unfinished. "You take your money and you get outta here mister."
"I'll go when I please," say. "I'll go when the smell of your struggle to feed your kids gets too much for me."
At that, a shotglass will bounce off of your head. You'll be knocked to the floor but you'll be conscious. Crawl out to the sidewalk and start running. When it's clear that they aren't still following you, go into another bar and repeat. By the time the night is over, you'll have bought drinks for several hundred people, and every last one of them will hate your fat guts.
Happy Drinks Are On You, Asshole Day!
In 1888, your great grandfather invented something everybody needs, and your entire family has been rich ever since. All the money came down to you a year ago and when your Mom died, and you've been trying to come up with new fun ways to spend your wealth ever since. Today, you should go into a bar, buy everyone in the bar a round of drinks, then act like an asshole until you get chased outside.
"Drinks are on me!" shout into the crowd of patrons. Everyone will look at each other to see if anyone recognizes you, then they'll all agree to give thanks with a simultaneous, "Yaaay!"
Shout, "Yeah, I hope you choke on em you fucks!"
They'll all put down their glasses and wait for more from you. Don't give them anything. You don't want to blow your wad yet. Just let them all order their drinks, then lay your credit card down for the barkeep.
The barkeep will ask, "And what'll you have Niceguy?"
Tell him, "Nothing. I wouldn't drink with these miserable humps if it was gonna buy me two more mansions on two more mountaintops."
One of the customers will step off his stool and ask, "Do you have a problem with somebody mister?"
Say, "I got a problem with you if you're gonna drink up my charity and then mouth off to me."
The customer will say, "Come again?" Two of his neighbors will have climbed off of their stools to flank him.
Say, "You'll never see me come here again. Now slurp that welfare cheese of a whiskey so I can go and close down a racetrack just to see how fast my new Ferrari can vroom."
The customer will slam his drink down on the bar unfinished. "You take your money and you get outta here mister."
"I'll go when I please," say. "I'll go when the smell of your struggle to feed your kids gets too much for me."
At that, a shotglass will bounce off of your head. You'll be knocked to the floor but you'll be conscious. Crawl out to the sidewalk and start running. When it's clear that they aren't still following you, go into another bar and repeat. By the time the night is over, you'll have bought drinks for several hundred people, and every last one of them will hate your fat guts.
Happy Drinks Are On You, Asshole Day!
Saturday, November 26, 2005
You Agreed To Help Your Dad Serenade Your Mom Day
You Agreed To Help Your Dad Serenade Your Mom Day!
Your Mom kicked your Dad out of the house when you were fifteen. She kicked him out for drinking too much. Not long after the split, your mom got herself a real good job and you and her got along just fine.
But you always wondered whether she could have given him a few more chances. You're living on your own now and you've got a pretty good job yourself, and when you see your Dad around town you can't help but invite him back to your apartment for dinner. It's nice to have him around. He's not so much your Dad anymore as he is a guy who's just kind of lonely and down on his luck a little. He works though, and he won't take any money from you. Just food and booze.
About a week ago, your Dad told you he had an idea to win your mom back. Your mom is dating a salesman that you know she isn't too excited about. And you do see her face turn soft whenever someone starts to tell a story about your Dad. So when he talked about the serenade, you gave it some thought.
"Nothing turns a woman on like a man who risks getting arrested for trespassing just so he could sing a pretty song to a lady," he said. You couldn't argue. He was drunk, sure, but you had never seen him so animated. The little kid in you sure was excited to see your Dad finally decide to take a stand and reclaim the woman who was his.
Tonight's the night. You agreed to play guitar for him. You'll get there at eleven on the dot, right on time. But after waiting for around a half hour, it will be clear your Dad's not going to show. You'll go inside your Mom's house and crash in your old room. You do that sometimes when you're closer to her place than yours. In the morning she'll make you breakfast and you won't mention your Dad.
A couple of weeks from now, your Dad will knock on your door at dinnertime. You'll make him a meal and ask him where he was the night of the serenade. You'll ask him what kept him from winning back his bride. He'll pretend to not know what you're talking about.
Happy You Agreed To Help Your Dad Serenade Your Mom Day!
Your Mom kicked your Dad out of the house when you were fifteen. She kicked him out for drinking too much. Not long after the split, your mom got herself a real good job and you and her got along just fine.
But you always wondered whether she could have given him a few more chances. You're living on your own now and you've got a pretty good job yourself, and when you see your Dad around town you can't help but invite him back to your apartment for dinner. It's nice to have him around. He's not so much your Dad anymore as he is a guy who's just kind of lonely and down on his luck a little. He works though, and he won't take any money from you. Just food and booze.
About a week ago, your Dad told you he had an idea to win your mom back. Your mom is dating a salesman that you know she isn't too excited about. And you do see her face turn soft whenever someone starts to tell a story about your Dad. So when he talked about the serenade, you gave it some thought.
"Nothing turns a woman on like a man who risks getting arrested for trespassing just so he could sing a pretty song to a lady," he said. You couldn't argue. He was drunk, sure, but you had never seen him so animated. The little kid in you sure was excited to see your Dad finally decide to take a stand and reclaim the woman who was his.
Tonight's the night. You agreed to play guitar for him. You'll get there at eleven on the dot, right on time. But after waiting for around a half hour, it will be clear your Dad's not going to show. You'll go inside your Mom's house and crash in your old room. You do that sometimes when you're closer to her place than yours. In the morning she'll make you breakfast and you won't mention your Dad.
A couple of weeks from now, your Dad will knock on your door at dinnertime. You'll make him a meal and ask him where he was the night of the serenade. You'll ask him what kept him from winning back his bride. He'll pretend to not know what you're talking about.
Happy You Agreed To Help Your Dad Serenade Your Mom Day!
Friday, November 25, 2005
Promise Jesus You’re Not Gonna Climb Trees No More Day
Promise Jesus You’re Not Gonna Climb Trees No More Day!
Jesus is very angry with you for climbing trees. That’s why he made you lose your grip and fall and break your arm in two places. Now your Dad is going to have to work two shifts for a couple of weeks to pay for your healing.
But the worst part is your Mom says that you shouldn’t assume that breaking your arm was the extent of the punishment Jesus has in mind for you.
“He’s probably so angry at you he’s just waiting for you to go out into the street so that he can run you down with a tractor-trailer. He’ll probably make the driver wonder what that noise was and pull up in reverse to see what he runned over, just so that Jesus can watch you get flattened two times,” your Mom said. “Better look both ways, ‘cause Jesus hates your guts.”
While you’re in bed today waiting for the throbbing in your arm to go away, spend the time praying to Jesus to forgive you. Promise him you’re never gonna climb no trees again if he just agrees to not murder you with some methed up trucker’s cab.
Happy Promise Jesus You’re Not Gonna Climb Trees No More Day!
Jesus is very angry with you for climbing trees. That’s why he made you lose your grip and fall and break your arm in two places. Now your Dad is going to have to work two shifts for a couple of weeks to pay for your healing.
But the worst part is your Mom says that you shouldn’t assume that breaking your arm was the extent of the punishment Jesus has in mind for you.
“He’s probably so angry at you he’s just waiting for you to go out into the street so that he can run you down with a tractor-trailer. He’ll probably make the driver wonder what that noise was and pull up in reverse to see what he runned over, just so that Jesus can watch you get flattened two times,” your Mom said. “Better look both ways, ‘cause Jesus hates your guts.”
While you’re in bed today waiting for the throbbing in your arm to go away, spend the time praying to Jesus to forgive you. Promise him you’re never gonna climb no trees again if he just agrees to not murder you with some methed up trucker’s cab.
Happy Promise Jesus You’re Not Gonna Climb Trees No More Day!
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Fake Whiplash Day
Fake Whiplash Day!
Today you should put on a neck brace and accuse your wife of owing you millions of dollars because she made your neck hurt.
Tell your wife, "You told me they had refilled the dip in the vegetable tray at Steve's party. That made me turn and look and now my neck hurts too much to do anything ever. Pay me!"
Your wife will tell you she's tapped out.
"You spent all my money on mistresses," she'll say.
"Well then you better call Daddy because I'm taking you to the cleaners," tell her. "And I only ever had one mistress and she was very special so don't disrespect her by pretending she was just one in a long trail of puss for me."
Your wife will go to her father and ask for millions. He'll pay her promptly. "You gotta hold onto this guy," her father will say. "He's the best you ever had."
It's true. Her last husband was a bank robber that she fell in love with during the hostage bargaining. A justice of the peace who was also being held hostage married the two of them. They were only married for fourteen minutes before her new husband was shot eleven times by a SWAT team.
"But Daddy," she'll say. "I think he might be faking the whiplash."
Her father will explain that fake or no fake, when it comes to whiplash, whoever gets the neck brace on first wins. That's why if you think someone is about to claim that they have whiplash you have to grab their neck and hold onto it so that they can't get the neck brace on. Once they do, no jury in the world will rule against them.
"Pay him," her father will say.
She'll get you the money tonight. Spend it on something nice for her, like televisions. She's been good to you and she deserves some televisions.
Happy Fake Whiplash Day!
Today you should put on a neck brace and accuse your wife of owing you millions of dollars because she made your neck hurt.
Tell your wife, "You told me they had refilled the dip in the vegetable tray at Steve's party. That made me turn and look and now my neck hurts too much to do anything ever. Pay me!"
Your wife will tell you she's tapped out.
"You spent all my money on mistresses," she'll say.
"Well then you better call Daddy because I'm taking you to the cleaners," tell her. "And I only ever had one mistress and she was very special so don't disrespect her by pretending she was just one in a long trail of puss for me."
Your wife will go to her father and ask for millions. He'll pay her promptly. "You gotta hold onto this guy," her father will say. "He's the best you ever had."
It's true. Her last husband was a bank robber that she fell in love with during the hostage bargaining. A justice of the peace who was also being held hostage married the two of them. They were only married for fourteen minutes before her new husband was shot eleven times by a SWAT team.
"But Daddy," she'll say. "I think he might be faking the whiplash."
Her father will explain that fake or no fake, when it comes to whiplash, whoever gets the neck brace on first wins. That's why if you think someone is about to claim that they have whiplash you have to grab their neck and hold onto it so that they can't get the neck brace on. Once they do, no jury in the world will rule against them.
"Pay him," her father will say.
She'll get you the money tonight. Spend it on something nice for her, like televisions. She's been good to you and she deserves some televisions.
Happy Fake Whiplash Day!
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Marry The Daughter Of The Guy Who Owns The Hot Topic At The Mall Day
Marry The Daughter Of The Guy Who Owns The Hot Topic At The Mall Day!
The guy who owns the Hot Topic at the mall doesn't just own that Hot Topic. He also owns two other Hot Topics at malls across the river, not to mention a construction company and a limousine service.
Marry his daughter. But don't let on that you're doing it just because you want to move up to senior manager at Hot Topic. His daughter will consider that to be unromantic and she'll say to you, "No." Her father could possibly respect your go-getter spirit and promote you on the spot for your efforts. But if he sees you made his daughter cry, he'll have you killed or at least blinded. He's mob, BTW.
Speaking of which, his being mob could be a problem. If he sees you as too much of a take-charge guy then he might pull you out of the Hot Topic and make you murder an enemy of his using only the heel of your boot and fire. No fun! The key here is to finally get the chance to run the Hot Topic the way you know it should be run. That requires that you woo the owner's daughter to the point that she'd rather die than risk letting you go. But make sure to come off a little bit fey so as to avoid her Dad assigning you the hard-nosed stuff. The best way to show some weakness is to overreact when you sip from hot drinks. Act like they're burning your tongue off every time and that you might cry, but you just have to keep drinking it, it's such a good latte.
Get her to love you, and you will get your hands on your Hot Topic franchise. And before you know it, the next sixty years will be laid out for you like they were penned into your day-planner.
Happy Marry The Daughter Of The Guy Who Owns The Hot Topic At The Mall Day!
The guy who owns the Hot Topic at the mall doesn't just own that Hot Topic. He also owns two other Hot Topics at malls across the river, not to mention a construction company and a limousine service.
Marry his daughter. But don't let on that you're doing it just because you want to move up to senior manager at Hot Topic. His daughter will consider that to be unromantic and she'll say to you, "No." Her father could possibly respect your go-getter spirit and promote you on the spot for your efforts. But if he sees you made his daughter cry, he'll have you killed or at least blinded. He's mob, BTW.
Speaking of which, his being mob could be a problem. If he sees you as too much of a take-charge guy then he might pull you out of the Hot Topic and make you murder an enemy of his using only the heel of your boot and fire. No fun! The key here is to finally get the chance to run the Hot Topic the way you know it should be run. That requires that you woo the owner's daughter to the point that she'd rather die than risk letting you go. But make sure to come off a little bit fey so as to avoid her Dad assigning you the hard-nosed stuff. The best way to show some weakness is to overreact when you sip from hot drinks. Act like they're burning your tongue off every time and that you might cry, but you just have to keep drinking it, it's such a good latte.
Get her to love you, and you will get your hands on your Hot Topic franchise. And before you know it, the next sixty years will be laid out for you like they were penned into your day-planner.
Happy Marry The Daughter Of The Guy Who Owns The Hot Topic At The Mall Day!
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Break Up All Night Long Day
Break Up All Night Long Day!
You shouldn't start up before ten forty-five. You can be hanging around each other before then. In fact, you might need to be at dinner or something so that you can both just sit and marvel at how long you can share a 2 X 2 foot table without exchanging a single word of English. The walk home would also need to be passed in silence while each of you fights an imaginary and entirely satisfying fight with the other inside your respective heads. Once at home, it's plausible that you could just end up with one of you going to bed while the other IM's with an ex, like you've been doing every night. So someone's going to have to say something horrible to the other, like:
"Did you make the plane reservations? I don't want those to be screwed up the way you screwed up your career as a dancer."
Or
"I have to get a good night's sleep tonight so when you come to bed don't kiss my cheek like you did last night."
Then just settle in for a good nine or ten hours of moving from room to room crying and blaming and talking about how happy you were when you went sledding once. Get out your suitcase and pack all of your clothes and things only so that you can throw the open suitcase against the hallway wall sending everything you own to rain down on your lover's head. Open up the history pane of your web browser and show your lover the long trail of viewed porn he leaves behind every time you step out of the room for ten minutes. Both of you should drink enough to take a break from the breaking up to have sex briefly, later allowing the act itself to serve as further evidence of your foundering bond.
Nearing dawn though, you should feel only sober, dry as a husk, yet strangely at peace. You'll both know that it's just the compensating high that comes before the exhaustion of a sleepless night takes its toll, but you'll find yourselves on the floor, sitting up against opposing walls, in good humor. At this point, you'll both feel as if you're fellow soldiers who've weathered a war together. You'll be able to laugh sparingly. You'll be able to divvy up your things, theoretically. You'll be able to touch hands and trade compliments on a relationship well-done. But most of all, you'll be able to imagine a night spent alone in a brand new apartment all your own. That vision of the life that awaits you will seem to be nothing short of paradise.
It won't be. You'll live surrounded by boxes, occasionally sleeping with your arms wrapped around a toaster that used to belong to your lover way back before you two even moved in together.
Happy Break Up All Night Long Day!
You shouldn't start up before ten forty-five. You can be hanging around each other before then. In fact, you might need to be at dinner or something so that you can both just sit and marvel at how long you can share a 2 X 2 foot table without exchanging a single word of English. The walk home would also need to be passed in silence while each of you fights an imaginary and entirely satisfying fight with the other inside your respective heads. Once at home, it's plausible that you could just end up with one of you going to bed while the other IM's with an ex, like you've been doing every night. So someone's going to have to say something horrible to the other, like:
"Did you make the plane reservations? I don't want those to be screwed up the way you screwed up your career as a dancer."
Or
"I have to get a good night's sleep tonight so when you come to bed don't kiss my cheek like you did last night."
Then just settle in for a good nine or ten hours of moving from room to room crying and blaming and talking about how happy you were when you went sledding once. Get out your suitcase and pack all of your clothes and things only so that you can throw the open suitcase against the hallway wall sending everything you own to rain down on your lover's head. Open up the history pane of your web browser and show your lover the long trail of viewed porn he leaves behind every time you step out of the room for ten minutes. Both of you should drink enough to take a break from the breaking up to have sex briefly, later allowing the act itself to serve as further evidence of your foundering bond.
Nearing dawn though, you should feel only sober, dry as a husk, yet strangely at peace. You'll both know that it's just the compensating high that comes before the exhaustion of a sleepless night takes its toll, but you'll find yourselves on the floor, sitting up against opposing walls, in good humor. At this point, you'll both feel as if you're fellow soldiers who've weathered a war together. You'll be able to laugh sparingly. You'll be able to divvy up your things, theoretically. You'll be able to touch hands and trade compliments on a relationship well-done. But most of all, you'll be able to imagine a night spent alone in a brand new apartment all your own. That vision of the life that awaits you will seem to be nothing short of paradise.
It won't be. You'll live surrounded by boxes, occasionally sleeping with your arms wrapped around a toaster that used to belong to your lover way back before you two even moved in together.
Happy Break Up All Night Long Day!
Monday, November 21, 2005
Help Your Son Burn The Neighbor Kid's Treehouse Down Day
Help Your Son Burn The Neighbor Kid's Treehouse Down Day!
Your son is an undesirable pre-teen and none of the other pre-teens in the neighborhood offer him membership into their exclusive little clubhouses. They claim that he is a homo who is poor.
"But we're not poor," you shout every night at dinner. "I've changed jobs and I had to take a pay cut. But I have stock options."
You know that stock options are a gamble, but their kids can't know that.
"Can they?" you ask the table. Your wife and son say nothing.
Bobby, the pale kid next door just opened a new treehouse. Everyone on the block has been invited up the ladder except for your son.
"This is an outrage," you shouted when you heard.
Your son said, "It wasn't just me. Kevin Waine wasn't invited either."
"Kevin Waine has MS!" you responded.
Your son just sulked. That was enough.
"We're burning it down."
"Dad!"
Your son is afraid that burning down the treehouse with his Dad will make him even less popular. A "Daddy's Boy" who "Burns places down when he's not invited inside." But you know that if your son doesn't act now, he'll be pushed around for the rest of his life. Just like your stock options, burning down the treehouse is somewhat of a gamble, and if you lose you'll be sent to jail and your son will be sent to a juvenile facility. But if he doesn't learn to take chances, those kids up in Bobby's treehouse will keep on climbing up that ladder so they can compose funny songs about how gay your son is.
Not gonna happen.
Happy Help Your Son Burn The Neighbor Kid's Treehouse Down Day!
Your son is an undesirable pre-teen and none of the other pre-teens in the neighborhood offer him membership into their exclusive little clubhouses. They claim that he is a homo who is poor.
"But we're not poor," you shout every night at dinner. "I've changed jobs and I had to take a pay cut. But I have stock options."
You know that stock options are a gamble, but their kids can't know that.
"Can they?" you ask the table. Your wife and son say nothing.
Bobby, the pale kid next door just opened a new treehouse. Everyone on the block has been invited up the ladder except for your son.
"This is an outrage," you shouted when you heard.
Your son said, "It wasn't just me. Kevin Waine wasn't invited either."
"Kevin Waine has MS!" you responded.
Your son just sulked. That was enough.
"We're burning it down."
"Dad!"
Your son is afraid that burning down the treehouse with his Dad will make him even less popular. A "Daddy's Boy" who "Burns places down when he's not invited inside." But you know that if your son doesn't act now, he'll be pushed around for the rest of his life. Just like your stock options, burning down the treehouse is somewhat of a gamble, and if you lose you'll be sent to jail and your son will be sent to a juvenile facility. But if he doesn't learn to take chances, those kids up in Bobby's treehouse will keep on climbing up that ladder so they can compose funny songs about how gay your son is.
Not gonna happen.
Happy Help Your Son Burn The Neighbor Kid's Treehouse Down Day!
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Don't Buy The Baby Shoe Day
Don't Buy The Baby Shoe Day!
Today you will pass an indigent man selling a variety of what are apparently found and stolen objects spread on display across a woolen blanket. He probably uses the blanket to sleep underneath at night. Stop at the blanket and point at the baby shoes. Say, "I like those baby shoes. Would you break up the set and only sell me the left one?"
The man will laugh and say, "What do you need just one baby shoe for?"
Tell him that you have a baby who has only one leg.
The man will laugh harder. "Who ever heard of a one-legged baby?"
Tell him, "My daughter has already been through a great deal of pain. May I buy the baby shoe?"
He'll tell you that he can't break up the pair. Go home to your one-legged daughter and tell her that you love her, but her having been born with only one leg is putting a terrible strain on you. But reiterate that you love her and will continue to do so, but you can't help but resent God sometimes. Your daughter is one so she doesn't understand English yet.
Happy Don't Buy The Baby Shoe Day!
Today you will pass an indigent man selling a variety of what are apparently found and stolen objects spread on display across a woolen blanket. He probably uses the blanket to sleep underneath at night. Stop at the blanket and point at the baby shoes. Say, "I like those baby shoes. Would you break up the set and only sell me the left one?"
The man will laugh and say, "What do you need just one baby shoe for?"
Tell him that you have a baby who has only one leg.
The man will laugh harder. "Who ever heard of a one-legged baby?"
Tell him, "My daughter has already been through a great deal of pain. May I buy the baby shoe?"
He'll tell you that he can't break up the pair. Go home to your one-legged daughter and tell her that you love her, but her having been born with only one leg is putting a terrible strain on you. But reiterate that you love her and will continue to do so, but you can't help but resent God sometimes. Your daughter is one so she doesn't understand English yet.
Happy Don't Buy The Baby Shoe Day!
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Shoot The Man In The Moon Day
Shoot The Man In The Moon Day!
Maybe your Dad was planning on using it to fend off the police when he realized they were coming for him. All you know is they took him off to jail before he could lock it back up in its case. You only came up to the walk-in closet because you like to go in and sit there for a couple of hours at a time when you get nervous and aren't sure why. As soon as you walked in you saw the padlock released and dangling from the latch of the box. You lifted the lid and there was the handgun, resting out of place as if he had taken it from the box but dropped it back in. Maybe the police got into the room before he was able to load it.
You check and it is loaded. Who knows? Maybe he changed his mind and came out with his hands up.
Your Mom is at the police station and she said she'll wait there all night. She didn't make any plans for your supervision. You're eleven now, but this is the first time that you've been left to spend the entire night in the house completely alone. Take the handgun from its case, go up to the roof and shoot the man in the moon.
This might be the only chance you'll have to use his handgun. When he gets back, he's sure to lock it up again. And since you were seven you've been dying to find out what the man in the moon will do if he gets hurt. You always thought you'd have to wait for a space shuttle to crash into it. But maybe not.
Just climb out on the roof late tonight, aim the gun at his splotchy gray face, and fire once. Then wait a while. It can take a long time for a bullet to travel that far into space. Maybe even all night long. Just lay on the roof and watch the moon for an expression of sharp pain or anguish. Or maybe just a small twitch. If you don't see any change, you either missed, or the bullet didn't get there in time to beat the sunrise. Shoot again tomorrow night, but earlier. And make sure to only shoot one time every night. Shoot more than once and the police will come and get you just like they got your Dad.
Happy Shoot The Man In The Moon Day!
Maybe your Dad was planning on using it to fend off the police when he realized they were coming for him. All you know is they took him off to jail before he could lock it back up in its case. You only came up to the walk-in closet because you like to go in and sit there for a couple of hours at a time when you get nervous and aren't sure why. As soon as you walked in you saw the padlock released and dangling from the latch of the box. You lifted the lid and there was the handgun, resting out of place as if he had taken it from the box but dropped it back in. Maybe the police got into the room before he was able to load it.
You check and it is loaded. Who knows? Maybe he changed his mind and came out with his hands up.
Your Mom is at the police station and she said she'll wait there all night. She didn't make any plans for your supervision. You're eleven now, but this is the first time that you've been left to spend the entire night in the house completely alone. Take the handgun from its case, go up to the roof and shoot the man in the moon.
This might be the only chance you'll have to use his handgun. When he gets back, he's sure to lock it up again. And since you were seven you've been dying to find out what the man in the moon will do if he gets hurt. You always thought you'd have to wait for a space shuttle to crash into it. But maybe not.
Just climb out on the roof late tonight, aim the gun at his splotchy gray face, and fire once. Then wait a while. It can take a long time for a bullet to travel that far into space. Maybe even all night long. Just lay on the roof and watch the moon for an expression of sharp pain or anguish. Or maybe just a small twitch. If you don't see any change, you either missed, or the bullet didn't get there in time to beat the sunrise. Shoot again tomorrow night, but earlier. And make sure to only shoot one time every night. Shoot more than once and the police will come and get you just like they got your Dad.
Happy Shoot The Man In The Moon Day!
Friday, November 18, 2005
Steal From The Shivering Sick Kids Day
Steal From The Shivering Sick Kids Day!
You are an accountant for a network of shelters servicing homeless children who have Leukemia and only one arm. You've given so much of your time to that charity that those shivering sick kids are the only friends you have. It's time to steal from them so that you can buy some real friends.
You're going to have to buy your friends because even the shivering sick kids would say that they wouldn't be friends with you if they were healthy and could walk away from you in mid-conversation. And you've been hanging around with them so much that you don't know how to make conversation with the healthy. What do you say to someone if they aren't screaming in pain and constantly trying to grab stuff with an arm they keep forgetting isn't there anymore? Even if you did have the time to go out to bars and make friends with strange people, how do you reach out to someone who can hold down solids?
If you want some healthy friends who aren't one-armed children, you're going to have to steal from the charity and buy an Xbox for everyone that you'd like to be your friend. If they start to get bored with your friendship after a while, which they will, buy them some games. When they grow weary of the games, buy your friends some ski weekends away with you. Eventually the charity will catch on to the embezzlement and you'll be arrested, but by then you'll have more than enough close and supportive friends to initiate a letter-writing campaign demanding your release.
See? It's fool-proof!
Happy Steal From The Shivering Sick Kids Day!
You are an accountant for a network of shelters servicing homeless children who have Leukemia and only one arm. You've given so much of your time to that charity that those shivering sick kids are the only friends you have. It's time to steal from them so that you can buy some real friends.
You're going to have to buy your friends because even the shivering sick kids would say that they wouldn't be friends with you if they were healthy and could walk away from you in mid-conversation. And you've been hanging around with them so much that you don't know how to make conversation with the healthy. What do you say to someone if they aren't screaming in pain and constantly trying to grab stuff with an arm they keep forgetting isn't there anymore? Even if you did have the time to go out to bars and make friends with strange people, how do you reach out to someone who can hold down solids?
If you want some healthy friends who aren't one-armed children, you're going to have to steal from the charity and buy an Xbox for everyone that you'd like to be your friend. If they start to get bored with your friendship after a while, which they will, buy them some games. When they grow weary of the games, buy your friends some ski weekends away with you. Eventually the charity will catch on to the embezzlement and you'll be arrested, but by then you'll have more than enough close and supportive friends to initiate a letter-writing campaign demanding your release.
See? It's fool-proof!
Happy Steal From The Shivering Sick Kids Day!
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Everyone But You Is Rich Day
Everyone But You Is Rich Day!
This evening, when you walk inside the bar to meet the woman you invited for drinks, you'll quickly discover that everyone in the bar but you is very wealthy. The first real sign of this is their coats. You can always tell someone's wealth by the cut of his coat. Everyone but you will be wearing wealthy people's coats.
The second sign of this will be when you get spotted by the bartender and he points at you while ringing a cowbell. Everyone in the bar will reel around at you and start screaming, "The Poor! The Poor!" They'll quickly slip face masks over their mouths to prevent contagion and as you walk through the bar to your date they'll all flick lit matches at you to warn you away from touching them or sitting on the empty stools next to them.
"Come here often?" your date will giggle through her facemask.
"Not the friendliest of clientele in here," you'll say.
"They're just scaredy cats when it comes to the poor," she'll say.
Ask her, "What makes you so brave?"
She'll peel off one of her rubber gloves and touch your hand with her bare skin. "Perhaps I'm so bored I could do with a little contagion in my body."
You'll get excited because she's making it pretty clear that she's going to bring you home to have sex with her, and whenever you have sex with rich people they give you something to eat afterwards.
Say to her, "Why don't we get the check and go someplace a little more welcoming. Like your Penthouse apartment."
She'll say, "You read my mind."
Say, "I did." Since you're poor, you know how to read minds. You also know how to steal electricity from the utility company.
She'll ask, "You don't have any children you're trying to win back through the legal system do you?"
Say no.
"Because I won't have any part in that. I just want to be intimate with you. I won't retain a lawyer for you."
Say she has nothing to worry about. Don't tell her about your daughter until after the sex, when she'll be so blown away that she'll phone up the most expensive lawyer in town for you and put it on her tab.
Happy Everyone But You Is Rich Day!
This evening, when you walk inside the bar to meet the woman you invited for drinks, you'll quickly discover that everyone in the bar but you is very wealthy. The first real sign of this is their coats. You can always tell someone's wealth by the cut of his coat. Everyone but you will be wearing wealthy people's coats.
The second sign of this will be when you get spotted by the bartender and he points at you while ringing a cowbell. Everyone in the bar will reel around at you and start screaming, "The Poor! The Poor!" They'll quickly slip face masks over their mouths to prevent contagion and as you walk through the bar to your date they'll all flick lit matches at you to warn you away from touching them or sitting on the empty stools next to them.
"Come here often?" your date will giggle through her facemask.
"Not the friendliest of clientele in here," you'll say.
"They're just scaredy cats when it comes to the poor," she'll say.
Ask her, "What makes you so brave?"
She'll peel off one of her rubber gloves and touch your hand with her bare skin. "Perhaps I'm so bored I could do with a little contagion in my body."
You'll get excited because she's making it pretty clear that she's going to bring you home to have sex with her, and whenever you have sex with rich people they give you something to eat afterwards.
Say to her, "Why don't we get the check and go someplace a little more welcoming. Like your Penthouse apartment."
She'll say, "You read my mind."
Say, "I did." Since you're poor, you know how to read minds. You also know how to steal electricity from the utility company.
She'll ask, "You don't have any children you're trying to win back through the legal system do you?"
Say no.
"Because I won't have any part in that. I just want to be intimate with you. I won't retain a lawyer for you."
Say she has nothing to worry about. Don't tell her about your daughter until after the sex, when she'll be so blown away that she'll phone up the most expensive lawyer in town for you and put it on her tab.
Happy Everyone But You Is Rich Day!
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Set The Genie Free From The Magic Lamp Day!
Set The Genie Free From The Magic Lamp Day!
When the little green Genie appears from the puff of smoke, he will thank you for setting him free.
"As a gesture of my gratitude, I will grant you three wishes. Anything that you desire is yours. Your worst troubles and greatest calamities will disappear. All that you have to do is speak it so that I can hear, and it shall be done!"
Don't say anything. Just stare at the Genie for a second, then go back to looking out the window.
"Any wish you wish, it is yours," the Genie will say.
Ignore him.
"Hey, did you hear what I said?"
"I heard you," say to him. Don't bother looking at him.
The Genie will float up near your shoulder to look out the window with you.
"What are you looking at?" the Genie will say.
"So much gray," say, less to him and more to the inevitable. "Such ghastly gray. It's so cold and bleak."
The Genie will look at the unseasonably sunny day outside. He'll think to correct you, but instead he'll try to just get the wishes over with so that he can go out into the world.
"Ahem. Once again, if there is something troubling you, simply wish that it be gone and you'll never have to think on it again."
Tell the Genie, "You can't help."
The Genie will say, "But I can do anything. Anything at all."
"Can you make the gray go away?"
The Genie will again look out the window.
"I…I could. If I could see any gray."
Just nod. "You can't help. No one can help."
The Genie will sit by you for a moment, unsure what to do.
"I don't normally do this, but I'll let you wish for unlimited wishes if you'd like," he'll say.
"I just want to be left alone," say.
The Genie will say, "I can grant you that. But that is only one wish. If you wish for me to go, you must say that you release me from my debt to you for having set me free."
Say, "Fine, I release you. Now get the fuck out of here. Just leave me alone."
The Genie will begin to thank you, but he'll fear another outburst. He'll float to the door, then he'll stop just before leaving. He'll turn to you and say, "Feel better."
Don't acknowledge him. Just let him go.
Happy Set The Genie Free From The Magic Lamp Day!
When the little green Genie appears from the puff of smoke, he will thank you for setting him free.
"As a gesture of my gratitude, I will grant you three wishes. Anything that you desire is yours. Your worst troubles and greatest calamities will disappear. All that you have to do is speak it so that I can hear, and it shall be done!"
Don't say anything. Just stare at the Genie for a second, then go back to looking out the window.
"Any wish you wish, it is yours," the Genie will say.
Ignore him.
"Hey, did you hear what I said?"
"I heard you," say to him. Don't bother looking at him.
The Genie will float up near your shoulder to look out the window with you.
"What are you looking at?" the Genie will say.
"So much gray," say, less to him and more to the inevitable. "Such ghastly gray. It's so cold and bleak."
The Genie will look at the unseasonably sunny day outside. He'll think to correct you, but instead he'll try to just get the wishes over with so that he can go out into the world.
"Ahem. Once again, if there is something troubling you, simply wish that it be gone and you'll never have to think on it again."
Tell the Genie, "You can't help."
The Genie will say, "But I can do anything. Anything at all."
"Can you make the gray go away?"
The Genie will again look out the window.
"I…I could. If I could see any gray."
Just nod. "You can't help. No one can help."
The Genie will sit by you for a moment, unsure what to do.
"I don't normally do this, but I'll let you wish for unlimited wishes if you'd like," he'll say.
"I just want to be left alone," say.
The Genie will say, "I can grant you that. But that is only one wish. If you wish for me to go, you must say that you release me from my debt to you for having set me free."
Say, "Fine, I release you. Now get the fuck out of here. Just leave me alone."
The Genie will begin to thank you, but he'll fear another outburst. He'll float to the door, then he'll stop just before leaving. He'll turn to you and say, "Feel better."
Don't acknowledge him. Just let him go.
Happy Set The Genie Free From The Magic Lamp Day!
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Choose Who To Eat Day
Choose Who To Eat Day!
The Oceanliner sank a couple of days ago and everyone in the lifeboat is getting hungry. It's time for you all to choose one passenger on the boat who will be killed and eaten by the rest. You've been doing a lot of the navigating, so the others look to you as their leader.
"This is a very tough decision." say. "It's a burden that shouldn't be left to just any one of us. We should vote on it so that everyone is in agreement. It's the only fair way."
One of the passengers will shout out, "I vote Chris! He's the fattest. He takes up the most space and has the most meat."
A few others will murmur agreement.
Put it to a vote. "All in favor," say.
Everyone but Chris will raise their hands.
"All opposed."
Chris will raise his hand.
"Well, that does it," say. "It has to be unanimous. We have to pick someone else."
Everyone will complain that no one would vote for himself to be killed and eaten by the rest.
"Oh, are you so sure?" say. "Well, let's just vote on everybody and see about that."
You'll spend several hours voting on everyone in the lifeboat. None of the votes will come out unanimous.
Say, "I see your point."
"What now?" a passenger will ask.
"If we can't share the burden, then someone is going to have to act," tell them. "One of us will have to rise up of his own accord and kill another passenger, so that the rest of us may eat. That man will have a great deal of guilt to grapple with as a result, but he will be remembered as a hero by the rest of us."
You and the other passengers will look around at each other, trying to read which of you will be the one to feed the rest. Finally, you'll jump up and lunge at Chris. He'll throw you over the boat. Then another of the passengers will lunge at Chris and will also be thrown from the boat. Then one by one, the remaining passengers will lunge at Chris and one by one they'll be thrown from the boat until only Chris is left. You'll all float together, shouting at Chris to come about and save you. But Chris will just float away in the lifeboat, alone. And you'll all bob in the water together, shouting for a while, then things will grow more quiet as some of you start to slip beneath the surface. It won't be long before you all grow tired and you stop swimming and you let what happens happens.
Happy Choose Who To Eat Day!
The Oceanliner sank a couple of days ago and everyone in the lifeboat is getting hungry. It's time for you all to choose one passenger on the boat who will be killed and eaten by the rest. You've been doing a lot of the navigating, so the others look to you as their leader.
"This is a very tough decision." say. "It's a burden that shouldn't be left to just any one of us. We should vote on it so that everyone is in agreement. It's the only fair way."
One of the passengers will shout out, "I vote Chris! He's the fattest. He takes up the most space and has the most meat."
A few others will murmur agreement.
Put it to a vote. "All in favor," say.
Everyone but Chris will raise their hands.
"All opposed."
Chris will raise his hand.
"Well, that does it," say. "It has to be unanimous. We have to pick someone else."
Everyone will complain that no one would vote for himself to be killed and eaten by the rest.
"Oh, are you so sure?" say. "Well, let's just vote on everybody and see about that."
You'll spend several hours voting on everyone in the lifeboat. None of the votes will come out unanimous.
Say, "I see your point."
"What now?" a passenger will ask.
"If we can't share the burden, then someone is going to have to act," tell them. "One of us will have to rise up of his own accord and kill another passenger, so that the rest of us may eat. That man will have a great deal of guilt to grapple with as a result, but he will be remembered as a hero by the rest of us."
You and the other passengers will look around at each other, trying to read which of you will be the one to feed the rest. Finally, you'll jump up and lunge at Chris. He'll throw you over the boat. Then another of the passengers will lunge at Chris and will also be thrown from the boat. Then one by one, the remaining passengers will lunge at Chris and one by one they'll be thrown from the boat until only Chris is left. You'll all float together, shouting at Chris to come about and save you. But Chris will just float away in the lifeboat, alone. And you'll all bob in the water together, shouting for a while, then things will grow more quiet as some of you start to slip beneath the surface. It won't be long before you all grow tired and you stop swimming and you let what happens happens.
Happy Choose Who To Eat Day!
Monday, November 14, 2005
She Agreed To Touch Your Thing At The Top Of The Ferris Wheel Day
She Agreed To Touch Your Thing At The Top Of The Ferris Wheel Day!
She's a beautiful cheerleader who's failing English. You're a lonely nerd who is ugly and smart. She came to you last week and asked you to write her term paper for her.
"If I don't get a B on that term paper, I'll repeat the whole year," she said. "I'll do anything in return. I'll even take you shopping to buy cool clothes so that you can be accepted by the cool kids. Maybe you'll even find out that you were cool all along and you just needed to be invited to the cool party. I'll even pretend to be your girlfriend if you want," she said.
"Touch my thing," say to her. "On the top of the Ferris Wheel at the carnival. Just like all the girls do."
Her face will scrunch up in disgust. "I've never touched a boy's thing on a Ferris Wheel," she'll say. "I've never even been to the carnival."
Say, "You want to pass English?!"
She handed the paper in on Friday and she'll get her B+ back today. Which means tonight, she has to ride the Ferris Wheel with you and touch your thing when your car reaches the top.
At the beginning of the second revolution, when they start pausing the cars in place, you'll pull your thing out and be ready to go. This way she won't have to waste time fumbling with your zipper. Once the car stops at the top, you'll look over at her. She'll have her eyes closed. She'll lift her hand and move it towards you. She'll lower it just inches above your thing before she yanks her hand back and wraps it around herself.
"I can't do it!" she'll say. "It's just too gross."
Zip up. "That's okay."
She'll say, "Really?"
"I mean, I was really hoping to finally have my thing touched," tell her. "But I can't make you do what you don't want to do."
She'll say, "But you wrote my paper for me."
"I like writing papers," tell her. "If you don't like touching boys' things, it's not a fair deal."
She'll say, "To be honest, I do kind of like touching boys' things. But not as currency. I don't want to have to touch someone's thing just because I'm doing poorly at school."
Say, "You shouldn't have to. You're right. But not everyone is as forgiving as me out there in the real world. For example, if you are ever given a high-paying job in exchange for touching the job interviewer's thing, and you try to back out of it, not only will he take back the job but he could break your thumbs. As if to say, Don't wanna touch my thing, eh? Then I'm gonna make it so you won't be able to touch anybody's thing."
She'll say, "That really happens?
Tell her, "It could. If you bite off more than you can chew."
The ride will come to a stop and the Carnie will open the gate on your car. But before you can get off, she'll plant a long wet kiss on your lips. "That's for being so nice to me," she'll say.
You'll be on cloud nine, until you step off the ride and start getting beaten up by the football team who all saw you kiss her. The football team doesn't like it when their cheerleaders kiss people who aren't on the football team. Though your lips will be swollen and you'll have to have your jaw wired shut, you'll still feel that kiss on your lips. You'll feel it all the way to the hospital.
Happy She Agreed To Touch Your Thing At The Top Of The Ferris Wheel Day!
She's a beautiful cheerleader who's failing English. You're a lonely nerd who is ugly and smart. She came to you last week and asked you to write her term paper for her.
"If I don't get a B on that term paper, I'll repeat the whole year," she said. "I'll do anything in return. I'll even take you shopping to buy cool clothes so that you can be accepted by the cool kids. Maybe you'll even find out that you were cool all along and you just needed to be invited to the cool party. I'll even pretend to be your girlfriend if you want," she said.
"Touch my thing," say to her. "On the top of the Ferris Wheel at the carnival. Just like all the girls do."
Her face will scrunch up in disgust. "I've never touched a boy's thing on a Ferris Wheel," she'll say. "I've never even been to the carnival."
Say, "You want to pass English?!"
She handed the paper in on Friday and she'll get her B+ back today. Which means tonight, she has to ride the Ferris Wheel with you and touch your thing when your car reaches the top.
At the beginning of the second revolution, when they start pausing the cars in place, you'll pull your thing out and be ready to go. This way she won't have to waste time fumbling with your zipper. Once the car stops at the top, you'll look over at her. She'll have her eyes closed. She'll lift her hand and move it towards you. She'll lower it just inches above your thing before she yanks her hand back and wraps it around herself.
"I can't do it!" she'll say. "It's just too gross."
Zip up. "That's okay."
She'll say, "Really?"
"I mean, I was really hoping to finally have my thing touched," tell her. "But I can't make you do what you don't want to do."
She'll say, "But you wrote my paper for me."
"I like writing papers," tell her. "If you don't like touching boys' things, it's not a fair deal."
She'll say, "To be honest, I do kind of like touching boys' things. But not as currency. I don't want to have to touch someone's thing just because I'm doing poorly at school."
Say, "You shouldn't have to. You're right. But not everyone is as forgiving as me out there in the real world. For example, if you are ever given a high-paying job in exchange for touching the job interviewer's thing, and you try to back out of it, not only will he take back the job but he could break your thumbs. As if to say, Don't wanna touch my thing, eh? Then I'm gonna make it so you won't be able to touch anybody's thing."
She'll say, "That really happens?
Tell her, "It could. If you bite off more than you can chew."
The ride will come to a stop and the Carnie will open the gate on your car. But before you can get off, she'll plant a long wet kiss on your lips. "That's for being so nice to me," she'll say.
You'll be on cloud nine, until you step off the ride and start getting beaten up by the football team who all saw you kiss her. The football team doesn't like it when their cheerleaders kiss people who aren't on the football team. Though your lips will be swollen and you'll have to have your jaw wired shut, you'll still feel that kiss on your lips. You'll feel it all the way to the hospital.
Happy She Agreed To Touch Your Thing At The Top Of The Ferris Wheel Day!
Sunday, November 13, 2005
The Fishermen Day
The Fishermen Day!
Today, you and your Fisherman friends are going to catch twenty-six pounds of bass and one human child's skull. The skull will belong to Danny Bader, a boy who disappeared in the twenties when he stood up to bootleggers who used to use the Harmony bridge to bring their illegal booze across that lake.
Danny Bader became the face of the local effort towards prohibition. "I think the world is so much more beautiful now that my Daddy isn't drunk," it used to say above his face on posters asking people to rat out Rum-Runners. "Please help my Daddy stay a good Daddy while I'm still alive," it said. "Did I mention I have cancer?" it added.
The story has it that Danny Bader wasn't happy with just being a face on a poster. When he saw that the alcohol in the city wasn't going away, he decided it was time to try to stop it at the source. He went to the bridge one night, alone, confident that if he just stood in front of the trucks they would have to stop. Because the drivers would not be able to plow right over a sick little boy that all the city knew and loved. He was never seen again.
Take the skull to the police, in the interest of perhaps finally settling the mystery surrounding Danny's disappearance once and for all, and maybe even charging those responsible for his death, if they are still alive. The police will conduct some tests and declare that the drivers didn't even see Danny, and plowed right over him. They stopped when they felt the bump of little boy under their tires. They tossed him into the lake, then excitedly kept driving into the city knowing that the movement to shut them down had lost its cancer-ridden spokesboy. The mystery will be solved with the declaration that the pitiable face of prohibition died in a kind of pathetic and pointless accident.
Ask the police how they can tell all of that just from the look of a decades-old skull. The police will say, "DNA!" Let that satisfy you and go eat some bass.
Happy The Fishermen Day!
Today, you and your Fisherman friends are going to catch twenty-six pounds of bass and one human child's skull. The skull will belong to Danny Bader, a boy who disappeared in the twenties when he stood up to bootleggers who used to use the Harmony bridge to bring their illegal booze across that lake.
Danny Bader became the face of the local effort towards prohibition. "I think the world is so much more beautiful now that my Daddy isn't drunk," it used to say above his face on posters asking people to rat out Rum-Runners. "Please help my Daddy stay a good Daddy while I'm still alive," it said. "Did I mention I have cancer?" it added.
The story has it that Danny Bader wasn't happy with just being a face on a poster. When he saw that the alcohol in the city wasn't going away, he decided it was time to try to stop it at the source. He went to the bridge one night, alone, confident that if he just stood in front of the trucks they would have to stop. Because the drivers would not be able to plow right over a sick little boy that all the city knew and loved. He was never seen again.
Take the skull to the police, in the interest of perhaps finally settling the mystery surrounding Danny's disappearance once and for all, and maybe even charging those responsible for his death, if they are still alive. The police will conduct some tests and declare that the drivers didn't even see Danny, and plowed right over him. They stopped when they felt the bump of little boy under their tires. They tossed him into the lake, then excitedly kept driving into the city knowing that the movement to shut them down had lost its cancer-ridden spokesboy. The mystery will be solved with the declaration that the pitiable face of prohibition died in a kind of pathetic and pointless accident.
Ask the police how they can tell all of that just from the look of a decades-old skull. The police will say, "DNA!" Let that satisfy you and go eat some bass.
Happy The Fishermen Day!
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Take Your Cats To The Observation Deck Of A Skyscraper Day
Take Your Cats To The Observation Deck Of A Skyscraper Day!
Show them the view of the city and tell them, "This is what man has created for himself. This is the sort of world man desires."
Your cats will try to squiggle out of your arms. Hold them tighter as they moan and meow.
"Yes," say. "It must be frightening for you. It is almost as if man is trying to build something tall enough that he can finally look God in the eye and say, See? Look at what I have made of this Earth where you try to keep me."
One of your cats will slip from your arms and run back onto the elevator. Everyone on the elevator will shout with joy that a kitty has chosen to ride with them. The elevator doors will close and the car will descend to the ground.
"You are incapable of creating anything but waste," you should explain to your remaining two cats. "You don't try to speak to God."
Happy Take Your Cats To The Observation Deck Of A Skyscraper Day!
Show them the view of the city and tell them, "This is what man has created for himself. This is the sort of world man desires."
Your cats will try to squiggle out of your arms. Hold them tighter as they moan and meow.
"Yes," say. "It must be frightening for you. It is almost as if man is trying to build something tall enough that he can finally look God in the eye and say, See? Look at what I have made of this Earth where you try to keep me."
One of your cats will slip from your arms and run back onto the elevator. Everyone on the elevator will shout with joy that a kitty has chosen to ride with them. The elevator doors will close and the car will descend to the ground.
"You are incapable of creating anything but waste," you should explain to your remaining two cats. "You don't try to speak to God."
Happy Take Your Cats To The Observation Deck Of A Skyscraper Day!
Friday, November 11, 2005
Fill Your Pockets With Glitter And Confetti And Then Step In Front Of A Speeding Bus Day
Fill Your Pockets With Glitter And Confetti And Then Step In Front Of A Speeding Bus Day!
You should also have big handfuls of the glitter bunched up in your fists and wads of confetti stuffed in your coat as long as it has an elastic waistline to hold it all in. This way, when the bus smacks into you, the glitter will burst in a fat twinkling cloud enveloping the entire bus in the shiny rainbow-colored beauty. The bus will roll right over you and then come to a stop. The door will open and the driver and some passengers will file out to the street.
But they won't be looking at you. They'll be looking up at the sky at the granules of rainbow and all that confetti showering down upon the street as if someone just won a war. They'll watch it all fall down, turning the street where you died into something magical.
"It's looks like a fairy tale," the bus driver will say.
The driver and the handful of passengers following him will approach you to find out whose death it was that brought such enchantment upon the world. They'll look at you in your ripped and bloodied Gap jacket and your Levis jeans and Nike sneakers, one foot wrenched backwards, and they'll be silent. The angel looks just like them. The angel is out of shape even. The angel that God just summoned back to heaven still has a Philadelphia Phillies hat on his head. Glitter will continue to hover in the air and all of the passengers still on the bus will have their gaping mouths pasted against the windows, watching you as if a yellow light is going to shine down and carry you up to God. One of the passengers will push her way out the exit of the bus and fall to her knees on the street. She'll pray in Spanish.
Tomorrow, they'll all read about you in the news. Nothing about you having been charitable or religious. Just about how you were married briefly when you were 22, how your mother died seven months prior, and how you were convicted two and half years ago of misdemeanor trespassing after you were discovered inside the women's locker room at a health club where you were temporarily employed as a hawker for a sports drink promotion.
Happy Fill Your Pockets With Glitter And Confetti And Then Step In Front Of A Speeding Bus Day!
You should also have big handfuls of the glitter bunched up in your fists and wads of confetti stuffed in your coat as long as it has an elastic waistline to hold it all in. This way, when the bus smacks into you, the glitter will burst in a fat twinkling cloud enveloping the entire bus in the shiny rainbow-colored beauty. The bus will roll right over you and then come to a stop. The door will open and the driver and some passengers will file out to the street.
But they won't be looking at you. They'll be looking up at the sky at the granules of rainbow and all that confetti showering down upon the street as if someone just won a war. They'll watch it all fall down, turning the street where you died into something magical.
"It's looks like a fairy tale," the bus driver will say.
The driver and the handful of passengers following him will approach you to find out whose death it was that brought such enchantment upon the world. They'll look at you in your ripped and bloodied Gap jacket and your Levis jeans and Nike sneakers, one foot wrenched backwards, and they'll be silent. The angel looks just like them. The angel is out of shape even. The angel that God just summoned back to heaven still has a Philadelphia Phillies hat on his head. Glitter will continue to hover in the air and all of the passengers still on the bus will have their gaping mouths pasted against the windows, watching you as if a yellow light is going to shine down and carry you up to God. One of the passengers will push her way out the exit of the bus and fall to her knees on the street. She'll pray in Spanish.
Tomorrow, they'll all read about you in the news. Nothing about you having been charitable or religious. Just about how you were married briefly when you were 22, how your mother died seven months prior, and how you were convicted two and half years ago of misdemeanor trespassing after you were discovered inside the women's locker room at a health club where you were temporarily employed as a hawker for a sports drink promotion.
Happy Fill Your Pockets With Glitter And Confetti And Then Step In Front Of A Speeding Bus Day!
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Pretend You Know Where There Are Some Drugs Day
Pretend You Know Where There Are Some Drugs Day!
All your life you've been passed over, butted in front of, and held down to be peed on by people who knew where there were some drugs. The guy who knows where there are some drugs always gets the special treatment because everyone in the world needs drugs, even people who don't do them. Some people need drugs because they're in love with somebody who won't love anyone back unless they have drugs in their pockets. Other people need drugs because their daughters are addicted to drugs and will run to the city to be prostitutes if their fathers don't come home every night with their pockets full of drugs. But then there is the vast majority of people who need drugs because every time they open their eyes they see nothing but ugliness, and nothing is ever uglier than when they look in the mirror.
You've never known where there are drugs, but you don't really have to know for real in order to get people to pay attention to you. Generally, the guy who knows where there are some drugs reveals that fact when he first shows up to places in order to be given complimentary appetizers. But he never bothers to take anyone to where the drugs are until two or three AM, when it's clear who he is and is not going to have sex with later. By that time, most of the people who wanted to go to the drugs have either disappeared or are out back fighting with knives.
Often, the guy who knows where there are some drugs never even tells anybody where they are. But no one bothers him about it because they're afraid he won't take them with him if he decides to go to the drugs. It's pretty easy to fake if you can be convincing about it. In order to trick everyone into thinking you know where there are some drugs, just wear nothing but clothing made out of human baby skin, and replace one of your real eyes with a solid black glass one. You can bet that tonight you won't have to wait two hours for the DJ to pick your name at karaoke, Drug-face!
Happy Pretend You Know Where There Are Some Drugs Day!
All your life you've been passed over, butted in front of, and held down to be peed on by people who knew where there were some drugs. The guy who knows where there are some drugs always gets the special treatment because everyone in the world needs drugs, even people who don't do them. Some people need drugs because they're in love with somebody who won't love anyone back unless they have drugs in their pockets. Other people need drugs because their daughters are addicted to drugs and will run to the city to be prostitutes if their fathers don't come home every night with their pockets full of drugs. But then there is the vast majority of people who need drugs because every time they open their eyes they see nothing but ugliness, and nothing is ever uglier than when they look in the mirror.
You've never known where there are drugs, but you don't really have to know for real in order to get people to pay attention to you. Generally, the guy who knows where there are some drugs reveals that fact when he first shows up to places in order to be given complimentary appetizers. But he never bothers to take anyone to where the drugs are until two or three AM, when it's clear who he is and is not going to have sex with later. By that time, most of the people who wanted to go to the drugs have either disappeared or are out back fighting with knives.
Often, the guy who knows where there are some drugs never even tells anybody where they are. But no one bothers him about it because they're afraid he won't take them with him if he decides to go to the drugs. It's pretty easy to fake if you can be convincing about it. In order to trick everyone into thinking you know where there are some drugs, just wear nothing but clothing made out of human baby skin, and replace one of your real eyes with a solid black glass one. You can bet that tonight you won't have to wait two hours for the DJ to pick your name at karaoke, Drug-face!
Happy Pretend You Know Where There Are Some Drugs Day!
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Kiss A Boy Right There In Front Of Everybody Day
Kiss A Boy Right There In Front Of Everybody Day!
Tonight, you have to kiss a boy somewhere where everybody can see you so that they can stop their conversations to say, "Check it out. Corner booth." Or "Check it out. Third Pew." Or, "Check it out. Top bunk."
Obviously, for it to be a big deal to do it right there in front of everybody, the "everybody" in question should be composed of people who would be interested in the fact that you've planted your lips on the boy in question. So they should either be your friends, family or coworkers, or the boy's. And the kiss itself should be significant. Perhaps everyone in the room knows that you haven't allowed yourself to get close to anyone since your husband died two years ago. Or maybe everyone in the room knows that the boy you're kissing just got married to someone else because you're all at the wedding reception. Or you yourself could be a boy who has tried to pass for straight for thirty nine years now. Or maybe everyone in the room knows that one of you is waiting for Ebola virus test results to come back. Or maybe your breast is hanging out of your dress. It happens. At the least opportune moments. It happens. Stop trying to pretend that it doesn't happen. Breasts fall out of stuff. It happens.
Happy Kiss A Boy Right There In Front Of Everybody Day!
Tonight, you have to kiss a boy somewhere where everybody can see you so that they can stop their conversations to say, "Check it out. Corner booth." Or "Check it out. Third Pew." Or, "Check it out. Top bunk."
Obviously, for it to be a big deal to do it right there in front of everybody, the "everybody" in question should be composed of people who would be interested in the fact that you've planted your lips on the boy in question. So they should either be your friends, family or coworkers, or the boy's. And the kiss itself should be significant. Perhaps everyone in the room knows that you haven't allowed yourself to get close to anyone since your husband died two years ago. Or maybe everyone in the room knows that the boy you're kissing just got married to someone else because you're all at the wedding reception. Or you yourself could be a boy who has tried to pass for straight for thirty nine years now. Or maybe everyone in the room knows that one of you is waiting for Ebola virus test results to come back. Or maybe your breast is hanging out of your dress. It happens. At the least opportune moments. It happens. Stop trying to pretend that it doesn't happen. Breasts fall out of stuff. It happens.
Happy Kiss A Boy Right There In Front Of Everybody Day!
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Rescue A Stray Kitten, But Only If It's In Grave Danger Day
Rescue A Stray Kitten, But Only If It's In Grave Danger Day!
Any do-gooder can go down to the pound and rescue a kitten from a box. But only the bravest of pet lovers can rescue a kitten from a burning building or a bank robbery. So head out on the streets until you find yourself an adorable little kitten with a gun pointed at its fuzzy little ears. If you look on the wrong side of the tracks, you'll find lots of kittens that are looking at rock bottom and are willing to do whatever it takes to stay alive just long enough to experience Heat. No matter how dangerous.
These are the kittens that await your rescue. The at-risk kittens who are ready to courier cute wittle bags of bwack tar hewoin in between their cute wittle teeth just to get a little hunk of tuna scraped onto the floor from a dwug dealer's sandwich. These kittens are rolling in and out of cars where they frolick and adorably bat at rearview mirror ornaments for ten bucks a shot. These are the kittens that are smoking rocks and shooting up day care centers just because they wanna hear somebody scream.
Rescue them, pet-lover. Not only will you be saving a kitten's life. But you'll weaken the ranks of the scumbags that are turning this city into a war zone. One cuddwy wittle baby at a time.
Happy Rescue A Stray Kitten, But Only If It's In Grave Danger Day!
Any do-gooder can go down to the pound and rescue a kitten from a box. But only the bravest of pet lovers can rescue a kitten from a burning building or a bank robbery. So head out on the streets until you find yourself an adorable little kitten with a gun pointed at its fuzzy little ears. If you look on the wrong side of the tracks, you'll find lots of kittens that are looking at rock bottom and are willing to do whatever it takes to stay alive just long enough to experience Heat. No matter how dangerous.
These are the kittens that await your rescue. The at-risk kittens who are ready to courier cute wittle bags of bwack tar hewoin in between their cute wittle teeth just to get a little hunk of tuna scraped onto the floor from a dwug dealer's sandwich. These kittens are rolling in and out of cars where they frolick and adorably bat at rearview mirror ornaments for ten bucks a shot. These are the kittens that are smoking rocks and shooting up day care centers just because they wanna hear somebody scream.
Rescue them, pet-lover. Not only will you be saving a kitten's life. But you'll weaken the ranks of the scumbags that are turning this city into a war zone. One cuddwy wittle baby at a time.
Happy Rescue A Stray Kitten, But Only If It's In Grave Danger Day!
Monday, November 07, 2005
Get Your Free Gift Day
Get Your Free Gift Day!
You decided to open up a checking account at Great Coast Bank because they offered the best free gifts. You could choose from a golf putter, a "Day of Heaven" at a recommended local spa, two pot brownies, an "Orgy Map," or a date with the account representative who opens up the account for you.
"Tell me about the Orgy Map," you should ask. Your account representative will be trim and beautiful and married. She'll look a little like an ex-girlfriend with whom you had a pleasant but inconvenient relationship (she drove freight trains cross country).
"It's a comprehensive map of five neighboring counties that pinpoints where orgies and consenting adult singles parties of all varieties take place. The type of consenting adult singles party or orgy is color-coded, with each color defined in the key on the back of the map. For example, a red triangle on the map offers indicates that at that particular location, an orgy will be taking place and paid prostitutes will be present," she'll tell you. It's something she's memorized.
"Sounds pretty handy," you should say.
"If you enjoy local orgies and consenting adult singles parties, it is very handy yes sir," she'll say.
While you think about it, she'll continue entering your information into her terminal.
Ask her, "If I were trying to choose between the Orgy Map and a date with my account representative, which would you recommend?"
Your account representative, Tracy, will bloom with a blush rising from her small smile. "Well sir, the one drawback of the Orgy Map is that it has not been updated in four months. We're expecting the latest edition to arrive any day now."
"And the date with my account representative?" say. "Any drawbacks there?"
"I'm afraid I wouldn't be a good substitute gift for a customer who might have been interested in the Orgy Map," she'll say. But not in a way that says she's wary of you.
"What about for a customer who just didn't like the looks of that ring on your finger," say.
Tracy's smile will disappear. "That ring is going to be coming off soon. It's a rough time for me right now and I won't be ready to start anything new for a little while I'm afraid. If you were to choose a date with me, I would certainly provide you with good company for the evening, just as our brochure indicates. But even if we hit it off, the timing would doom us I'm afraid."
Say to Tracy, "Then perhaps in six months to a year I'll need to open up a savings account."
"That would be a very good idea, sir," she'll say. Her smile will come back. "Provided our free gift promotion continues indefinitely."
"I hope it will. For now, I'll take the Orgy Map," say.
"Even though it's out of date?"
Explain to her, "It's hard for an Orgy Map to be out of date. Your average monthly orgy worth any salt has been known to be a recurring event for as much as fifteen and twenty years."
"People don't wanna give up a good thing," she'll say.
"People don't wanna go find a whole new bunch of uglies to fuck next to, what it is," tell her. "I'll see you when you butter that ring off your finger Tracy."
"I hope you will," she'll say. "And don't forget to sign up for online bill pay. We're having a free enrollment period until the end of the month."
"I'm a go home and do that right now," tell her, even though you're not going to go home. Instead, you're going to drive at a very unsafe speed to the nearest orgy you can find on that map. Your anticipation to attend an orgy will be so overwhelming you'll break out in a sweat. When you arrive at the orgy, before going inside, walk around the block to let your clothes dry off.
Happy Get Your Free Gift Day!
You decided to open up a checking account at Great Coast Bank because they offered the best free gifts. You could choose from a golf putter, a "Day of Heaven" at a recommended local spa, two pot brownies, an "Orgy Map," or a date with the account representative who opens up the account for you.
"Tell me about the Orgy Map," you should ask. Your account representative will be trim and beautiful and married. She'll look a little like an ex-girlfriend with whom you had a pleasant but inconvenient relationship (she drove freight trains cross country).
"It's a comprehensive map of five neighboring counties that pinpoints where orgies and consenting adult singles parties of all varieties take place. The type of consenting adult singles party or orgy is color-coded, with each color defined in the key on the back of the map. For example, a red triangle on the map offers indicates that at that particular location, an orgy will be taking place and paid prostitutes will be present," she'll tell you. It's something she's memorized.
"Sounds pretty handy," you should say.
"If you enjoy local orgies and consenting adult singles parties, it is very handy yes sir," she'll say.
While you think about it, she'll continue entering your information into her terminal.
Ask her, "If I were trying to choose between the Orgy Map and a date with my account representative, which would you recommend?"
Your account representative, Tracy, will bloom with a blush rising from her small smile. "Well sir, the one drawback of the Orgy Map is that it has not been updated in four months. We're expecting the latest edition to arrive any day now."
"And the date with my account representative?" say. "Any drawbacks there?"
"I'm afraid I wouldn't be a good substitute gift for a customer who might have been interested in the Orgy Map," she'll say. But not in a way that says she's wary of you.
"What about for a customer who just didn't like the looks of that ring on your finger," say.
Tracy's smile will disappear. "That ring is going to be coming off soon. It's a rough time for me right now and I won't be ready to start anything new for a little while I'm afraid. If you were to choose a date with me, I would certainly provide you with good company for the evening, just as our brochure indicates. But even if we hit it off, the timing would doom us I'm afraid."
Say to Tracy, "Then perhaps in six months to a year I'll need to open up a savings account."
"That would be a very good idea, sir," she'll say. Her smile will come back. "Provided our free gift promotion continues indefinitely."
"I hope it will. For now, I'll take the Orgy Map," say.
"Even though it's out of date?"
Explain to her, "It's hard for an Orgy Map to be out of date. Your average monthly orgy worth any salt has been known to be a recurring event for as much as fifteen and twenty years."
"People don't wanna give up a good thing," she'll say.
"People don't wanna go find a whole new bunch of uglies to fuck next to, what it is," tell her. "I'll see you when you butter that ring off your finger Tracy."
"I hope you will," she'll say. "And don't forget to sign up for online bill pay. We're having a free enrollment period until the end of the month."
"I'm a go home and do that right now," tell her, even though you're not going to go home. Instead, you're going to drive at a very unsafe speed to the nearest orgy you can find on that map. Your anticipation to attend an orgy will be so overwhelming you'll break out in a sweat. When you arrive at the orgy, before going inside, walk around the block to let your clothes dry off.
Happy Get Your Free Gift Day!
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Get Chased Across Some Rooftops Day
Get Chased Across Some Rooftops Day!
When you wake up this morning, you'll walk out of the bedroom and you'll see the woman who brought you home last night hanging up her telephone. You'll ask her what's for breakfast, and the smile that bursts out on her face will give you pause. Nothing about your time with her has suggested that she was capable of smiling before her fifth drink's inside of her. She'll turn over the newspaper on her kitchen table, and then she'll get up and offer to whip up some eggs. As you'd expect, she'll open her refrigerator door on a whole lot of empty white nothing, and you'll flip the newspaper again and see your big stupid face blaring from the cover. You'll hear sirens approaching.
Once you get your pants on and out into the hallway, cursing yourself for going weak in a bar and letting someone take you home, you'll peer over the banister and spy the flat hats of policemen making their way upstairs. The only way to go for you is up.
And out onto the rooftop where you'll have a full block to be chased from roof to roof. The upraised barriers of the roofs will serve as hurdles and some of the policemen will tumble in the chase, but the most agile, and especially the plain-clothes detectives, will continue closing in. The horizon at the end of the rooftops will get closer and closer almost as fast as the cops behind you narrowing your lead. At the end of the block, you'll have one of three choices:
One: You can jump. Perhaps onto a lower roof or through a series of canopies, each breaking your fall a little bit more until it's safe for you to land in a bin a lettuce.
Two: You can stop and turn around, promising that if the cops come any closer you'll leap to your death on the street below and they'll never know who you were working with. They'll put their guns away, but you'll be shot immediately after. Everyone will spy a man with a rifle on the rooftop of a building across an intersection running into the entranceway of that building, forcing the cops to double back and try to beat him to the street.
Three: You can grab onto a rope ladder lowered from a descending helicopter. A gunman will lay down some covering fire to drop the cops to the rooftop while the chopper carries you away to the mountainside lair of whomever you're working for.
I'd choose three, so that this thing can prove to be far bigger than anyone might have guessed. It's always better when things are far bigger than anyone might have guessed.
Happy Get Chased Across Some Rooftops Day!
When you wake up this morning, you'll walk out of the bedroom and you'll see the woman who brought you home last night hanging up her telephone. You'll ask her what's for breakfast, and the smile that bursts out on her face will give you pause. Nothing about your time with her has suggested that she was capable of smiling before her fifth drink's inside of her. She'll turn over the newspaper on her kitchen table, and then she'll get up and offer to whip up some eggs. As you'd expect, she'll open her refrigerator door on a whole lot of empty white nothing, and you'll flip the newspaper again and see your big stupid face blaring from the cover. You'll hear sirens approaching.
Once you get your pants on and out into the hallway, cursing yourself for going weak in a bar and letting someone take you home, you'll peer over the banister and spy the flat hats of policemen making their way upstairs. The only way to go for you is up.
And out onto the rooftop where you'll have a full block to be chased from roof to roof. The upraised barriers of the roofs will serve as hurdles and some of the policemen will tumble in the chase, but the most agile, and especially the plain-clothes detectives, will continue closing in. The horizon at the end of the rooftops will get closer and closer almost as fast as the cops behind you narrowing your lead. At the end of the block, you'll have one of three choices:
One: You can jump. Perhaps onto a lower roof or through a series of canopies, each breaking your fall a little bit more until it's safe for you to land in a bin a lettuce.
Two: You can stop and turn around, promising that if the cops come any closer you'll leap to your death on the street below and they'll never know who you were working with. They'll put their guns away, but you'll be shot immediately after. Everyone will spy a man with a rifle on the rooftop of a building across an intersection running into the entranceway of that building, forcing the cops to double back and try to beat him to the street.
Three: You can grab onto a rope ladder lowered from a descending helicopter. A gunman will lay down some covering fire to drop the cops to the rooftop while the chopper carries you away to the mountainside lair of whomever you're working for.
I'd choose three, so that this thing can prove to be far bigger than anyone might have guessed. It's always better when things are far bigger than anyone might have guessed.
Happy Get Chased Across Some Rooftops Day!
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Sheriff Wallace Will Be The Last To Say Goodbye Day
Sheriff Wallace Will Be The Last To Say Goodbye Day!
The State Line will be five miles behind you when Wallace's flashing lights start to pop in your rear view. You'll pull over with a sharp brake and a veer onto the shoulder. Wallace follows in stride, though it's certain he noted the aggression.
"Lotta boxes back there. Can you see out the back with your trunk half open like that?" Sheriff Wallace will ask.
"Saw you didn't I?" you'll say.
Sheriff Wallace will tap his fingers on the rubber frame of your rolled-down window.
"Shirley's a handful," he'll say.
"Just like her Daddy?"
Sheriff Wallace will stop tapping his fingers.
"Whyn't you step out of the car?" he'll say.
"Was I speeding officer?"
"No," he'll say. "No you wasn't." He'll take some steps from the window and turn his back to you, waiting, staring down the empty road back home. You'll get out of the car and face him.
"You knew this was coming," you'll say.
"I knew," Sheriff Wallace will say.
"You know there's no chance you're gonna turn me around," you'll say.
He'll breathe deep, almost like his chest is tight. "Yeah," he'll say. "Yeah, I know she sent you on your way a long time ago."
You and Sheriff Wallace will look off in different directions at all the fields of nothing stretching out from the highway.
"I tried to raise my daughter strong, but I ended up raising her mean," Sheriff Wallace will say. "She know you're gone."
"She might know by now," you'll say. "I left a letter on the kitchen countertop. If Wilbur didn't eat it while he was waiting for his kibble, she might know by now."
Sheriff Wallace will nod. "Then you best be getting on before she comes looking for ya," he'll say. "I'll go back and see to her."
You'll hold out your hand for Sheriff Wallace to shake. It was good having him in your life. You'll be glad he pulled you over to say goodbye. He's meaner than his daughter and based on rumors, he might just as well have pulled you over to shoot you in the face as to say goodbye to his son-in-law. But—
"I always liked you," he'll say. "I always thought my daughter finally was thinking when she got you to propose to her."
You'll let go of Sheriff Wallace's hand and climb back into your car. He'll climb back into his and turn it around to go and calm his daughter down. You'll drive north and he'll drive south.
Happy Sheriff Wallace Will Be The Last To Say Goodbye Day!
The State Line will be five miles behind you when Wallace's flashing lights start to pop in your rear view. You'll pull over with a sharp brake and a veer onto the shoulder. Wallace follows in stride, though it's certain he noted the aggression.
"Lotta boxes back there. Can you see out the back with your trunk half open like that?" Sheriff Wallace will ask.
"Saw you didn't I?" you'll say.
Sheriff Wallace will tap his fingers on the rubber frame of your rolled-down window.
"Shirley's a handful," he'll say.
"Just like her Daddy?"
Sheriff Wallace will stop tapping his fingers.
"Whyn't you step out of the car?" he'll say.
"Was I speeding officer?"
"No," he'll say. "No you wasn't." He'll take some steps from the window and turn his back to you, waiting, staring down the empty road back home. You'll get out of the car and face him.
"You knew this was coming," you'll say.
"I knew," Sheriff Wallace will say.
"You know there's no chance you're gonna turn me around," you'll say.
He'll breathe deep, almost like his chest is tight. "Yeah," he'll say. "Yeah, I know she sent you on your way a long time ago."
You and Sheriff Wallace will look off in different directions at all the fields of nothing stretching out from the highway.
"I tried to raise my daughter strong, but I ended up raising her mean," Sheriff Wallace will say. "She know you're gone."
"She might know by now," you'll say. "I left a letter on the kitchen countertop. If Wilbur didn't eat it while he was waiting for his kibble, she might know by now."
Sheriff Wallace will nod. "Then you best be getting on before she comes looking for ya," he'll say. "I'll go back and see to her."
You'll hold out your hand for Sheriff Wallace to shake. It was good having him in your life. You'll be glad he pulled you over to say goodbye. He's meaner than his daughter and based on rumors, he might just as well have pulled you over to shoot you in the face as to say goodbye to his son-in-law. But—
"I always liked you," he'll say. "I always thought my daughter finally was thinking when she got you to propose to her."
You'll let go of Sheriff Wallace's hand and climb back into your car. He'll climb back into his and turn it around to go and calm his daughter down. You'll drive north and he'll drive south.
Happy Sheriff Wallace Will Be The Last To Say Goodbye Day!
Friday, November 04, 2005
Get Poisoned Day
Get Poisoned Day!
In order to get poisoned, you have to be the kind of guy that no one is going to just gun down on the street. People who might get poisoned are rarely killed in a chance mugging gone awry. And they also don't fall down and hit their heads on stuff.
People get poisoned when every single minute that they are alive is another minute of sorrow brought down upon the heads of thousands if not millions of people who love and live only to help their children struggle to survive in a world that offers nothing but poverty and random disappearances. To get poisoned, you have to lead. And you have to lead poorly, employing only fear to keep hold of your reign. You have to attain a level of such grave ignominy that even your most trusted of minions, the only members of your inner circle that you can still trust to bring you your food, can no longer deny that you must be removed from your throne.
Act swiftly and do the world wrong. You force your henchmen to taste your food, so they must be willing to knowingly ingest the poison root, but maintain composure long enough for you to believe that the dish is untainted. You will sup from the plate, and then you will watch your former friend and confidant fall to the ground and spew a small puddle of dark foam from his mouth. You'll see your friend go where you are soon to follow, and then you'll know: You just got poisoned.
Happy Get Poisoned Day!
In order to get poisoned, you have to be the kind of guy that no one is going to just gun down on the street. People who might get poisoned are rarely killed in a chance mugging gone awry. And they also don't fall down and hit their heads on stuff.
People get poisoned when every single minute that they are alive is another minute of sorrow brought down upon the heads of thousands if not millions of people who love and live only to help their children struggle to survive in a world that offers nothing but poverty and random disappearances. To get poisoned, you have to lead. And you have to lead poorly, employing only fear to keep hold of your reign. You have to attain a level of such grave ignominy that even your most trusted of minions, the only members of your inner circle that you can still trust to bring you your food, can no longer deny that you must be removed from your throne.
Act swiftly and do the world wrong. You force your henchmen to taste your food, so they must be willing to knowingly ingest the poison root, but maintain composure long enough for you to believe that the dish is untainted. You will sup from the plate, and then you will watch your former friend and confidant fall to the ground and spew a small puddle of dark foam from his mouth. You'll see your friend go where you are soon to follow, and then you'll know: You just got poisoned.
Happy Get Poisoned Day!
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Caramel Paul Day
Caramel Paul Day!
Caramel Paul is this big fat kid who loves caramel and you. Today, Caramel Paul is going to offer you some caramel.
"No one's been nice to me at this school because everyone thinks I killed my Mom and Dad," you'll say.
Caramel Paul will watch you eat the caramel he gave you and it will make him hungry for some caramel. So he'll sit down next to you and eat some caramel.
"I didn't, you know," you'll say. "They killed themselves. I woke up and they were in their bed with their wrists cut. Kids don't grasp specifics though I guess."
Caramel Paul will unwrap some more caramel and eat it. He won't offer you any more.
"I miss them still. They were so unhappy and I know they're at peace now, but I wish they hadn't gone away."
Caramel Paul will get up and walk away.
"Where are you going?" you'll ask.
Caramel Paul will say, "I'm out of caramel. I usually don't run out, but I gave you some. Now I have to go get some more."
You'll say bye. Caramel Paul will start to run to get to the store that sells his caramel. Today, he will have discovered that he loves you slightly less than he loves caramel.
Happy Caramel Paul Day!
Caramel Paul is this big fat kid who loves caramel and you. Today, Caramel Paul is going to offer you some caramel.
"No one's been nice to me at this school because everyone thinks I killed my Mom and Dad," you'll say.
Caramel Paul will watch you eat the caramel he gave you and it will make him hungry for some caramel. So he'll sit down next to you and eat some caramel.
"I didn't, you know," you'll say. "They killed themselves. I woke up and they were in their bed with their wrists cut. Kids don't grasp specifics though I guess."
Caramel Paul will unwrap some more caramel and eat it. He won't offer you any more.
"I miss them still. They were so unhappy and I know they're at peace now, but I wish they hadn't gone away."
Caramel Paul will get up and walk away.
"Where are you going?" you'll ask.
Caramel Paul will say, "I'm out of caramel. I usually don't run out, but I gave you some. Now I have to go get some more."
You'll say bye. Caramel Paul will start to run to get to the store that sells his caramel. Today, he will have discovered that he loves you slightly less than he loves caramel.
Happy Caramel Paul Day!
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
The Face Of Funk Day
The Face Of Funk Day!
Today, yours is the Face of Funk. When they last met in Ontario, Canada in June of 2005, it was decreed by the Congress of Funk that today the Face of Funk would be that of a white, mustachioed male, with the beginnings of a double chin, and with one strange growth near the left ear that looks like two and a half warts but is just some fatty deposits. The growth, the Congress of Funk decided, should be the sort of growth that is not noticeable in the individual's day-to-day activities, but is usually discovered by lovers after approximately three intimate visitations, while the individual is sleeping and the lover is still awake because he or she can't sleep in strange beds for the first few nights of intimate visitations. The lover will usually stare at the growth, fearing cancer, or worse, warts, and will maybe touch the growth just barely so as not to wake up the individual. And the lover will wonder if she can do better then the bearer of today's Face of Funk.
Today is the first day in your life when keeping that mustache has proven to be a good idea, because as the bearer of the Face of Funk, you will be given a 2006 season pass to any Six Flags park in the country. Now if you'll excuse us, we have to get to a funeral. A Congresswoman of Funk OD'd on freebase last week. Very sad.
Happy The Face Of Funk Day!
Today, yours is the Face of Funk. When they last met in Ontario, Canada in June of 2005, it was decreed by the Congress of Funk that today the Face of Funk would be that of a white, mustachioed male, with the beginnings of a double chin, and with one strange growth near the left ear that looks like two and a half warts but is just some fatty deposits. The growth, the Congress of Funk decided, should be the sort of growth that is not noticeable in the individual's day-to-day activities, but is usually discovered by lovers after approximately three intimate visitations, while the individual is sleeping and the lover is still awake because he or she can't sleep in strange beds for the first few nights of intimate visitations. The lover will usually stare at the growth, fearing cancer, or worse, warts, and will maybe touch the growth just barely so as not to wake up the individual. And the lover will wonder if she can do better then the bearer of today's Face of Funk.
Today is the first day in your life when keeping that mustache has proven to be a good idea, because as the bearer of the Face of Funk, you will be given a 2006 season pass to any Six Flags park in the country. Now if you'll excuse us, we have to get to a funeral. A Congresswoman of Funk OD'd on freebase last week. Very sad.
Happy The Face Of Funk Day!
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
You're The Dirtiest Day
You're The Dirtiest Day!
You and your younger brother have missed each other terribly ever since his company moved him to Portland. To make sure not to lose touch, you decided to engage in one of the contests you and he used to love to have when you were kids.
"No showering! Let's see who can go the longest!" you challenged.
"You're going down big brother," he giggled.
Today, your little brother is going to call and let you know that you've won. His new supervisor warned him that if he goes one more day without showering, he will be let go.
"Face!" you'll shout. "You are weak! Sad and weak!"
"I have a family," your brother will respond. "My daughter has a nervous condition. I need my insurance."
"I AM TRIUMPHANT!!!" you'll bellow into the phone. Then you'll carry the phone to the stereo and you'll hold it up to a speaker while a Smashmouth song blasts from it.
When you lift the phone back to your ear, you'll hear your little brother sobbing. Make fun of him. Grab the violin and start to play a sad dirge. The nice thing about not having showered for so long is that things like cell phones will stick to your ear without you having to hold on to them.
When you've fully relished your win, tell your brother in all sincerity that you miss him like you'd miss your own right arm and that you can't wait to see him at Christmas.
"I gotta go get cleaned up," say.
"Goodbye big brother," your brother will say.
"Goodbye little brother."
Now go into the bathroom and scrub at yourself with something made of wire. You're a little too late and you've developed a skin condition. See somebody.
Happy You're The Dirtiest Day!
You and your younger brother have missed each other terribly ever since his company moved him to Portland. To make sure not to lose touch, you decided to engage in one of the contests you and he used to love to have when you were kids.
"No showering! Let's see who can go the longest!" you challenged.
"You're going down big brother," he giggled.
Today, your little brother is going to call and let you know that you've won. His new supervisor warned him that if he goes one more day without showering, he will be let go.
"Face!" you'll shout. "You are weak! Sad and weak!"
"I have a family," your brother will respond. "My daughter has a nervous condition. I need my insurance."
"I AM TRIUMPHANT!!!" you'll bellow into the phone. Then you'll carry the phone to the stereo and you'll hold it up to a speaker while a Smashmouth song blasts from it.
When you lift the phone back to your ear, you'll hear your little brother sobbing. Make fun of him. Grab the violin and start to play a sad dirge. The nice thing about not having showered for so long is that things like cell phones will stick to your ear without you having to hold on to them.
When you've fully relished your win, tell your brother in all sincerity that you miss him like you'd miss your own right arm and that you can't wait to see him at Christmas.
"I gotta go get cleaned up," say.
"Goodbye big brother," your brother will say.
"Goodbye little brother."
Now go into the bathroom and scrub at yourself with something made of wire. You're a little too late and you've developed a skin condition. See somebody.
Happy You're The Dirtiest Day!