Thursday, December 31, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
What a lovely and interesting twelve days it has been! I had to take the partridge out of the pear tree because I thought he looked a little silly there, but that was before I had seven swans a'swimming in my bathtub. But, the pear tree is beautiful, and it should grow nicely where all those geese are a'laying and a'pooping! The UPS guy has tried three times to drop off two turtle doves and three french hens. Hopefully, I will be here next time as I don't think he will be able to just leave them on the porch. And those pipers piping and drummers drumming, I wasn't sure where to put them, but the drummers refused to share a room with the pipers, who they called "those queer faggots in tights," and left. Well, first they stole the five gold rings you gave me. I would've called the police, but one of the ten lords a'leaping landed on my cell phone and broke it. And did you mean to bring me nine ladies from Lansing? Lansing, Michigan? I'd check your receipt because these are all octogenarians who were on a tour of the Great Lakes when they were given $100 and told to get in a van. Anyway, their invoice says "nine ladies dancing" but they all assure me their fox-trotting days are over, and five of them even said it hurts just to stand. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but please get them out of here. It breaks my heart to see them come downstairs everyday confused and dressed in layers and carrying cameras. I hope you understand. Your gifts were certainly extravagant, and I don't deserve anything as romantic as all this. Also, I'm not really sure I'm completely set up for eight maids a'milking.
Thanks for the 23 birds. They flew off when the drummers arrived, but they'll probably be back because the milking maids brought all these cows, and I know birds like to sit on those. I've arranged for the 30 other folks you gave me as gifts to stay at the youth hostel until I can figure something else out. I had to sell the five gold rings to make this happen, but I'm sure you'll understand. The pear tree won't grow in this climate, so I tossed it, but kept the plastic potter it came in because it can be used to store tennis balls or turned upside down and made into a stool. Thanks again.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Today sucked. I accidentally killed a lizard and I lost my prescription glasses. You don't know any of this because you have a girlfriend and it's not me.
Nothing makes you feel less vital to the world than flying above it at 33,000 feet and staring down at the intricate geometry of thousands of lives. It's the kind of thing that makes you order a scotch "neat." And when the stewardess pauses and says, "So... with or without ice?" it makes you just stare back and say "neat."
Great, if this plane crashes, there is no one here I want to hug while crying hysterically. Since when did trying to fall in love have so much in common with falling out of the sky?
Friday, October 30, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Around your 30th birthday
you will discover that your body
is not a temple.
It's a den
full of predators.
And you'll be trying
to make friends with them
the rest of your life.
Or, at least, trying to keep
them in a deep sleep
by sneaking quietly around
With Xanax and alcohol.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
One definition of loneliness
is learning that your favorite author,
the one you really understand,
the one you’re sure would’ve really gotten you,
the one that took your stupid happiness and your boring depression
and made you underline it -- even put a star or exclamation point next to it --
killed himself because he decided it wasn’t worth it.
His death turned a great writer into just a dead body in an instant
but was recorded as approximately
between the middle of September and October
because no one called or came over.
He rotted in front of a window for weeks
until a police man found him.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
You auditioned in your bikini at La Salsa.
You’re the star of an updated version of Little Red Riding Hood and have fallen asleep while on the phone with the director, who is running through the script, when you’re startled awake by him saying, “…and then the wolf’s cock piercing gets caught on your tongue ring.”
The director comes to your house and takes a loud smelly dump in your toilet.
Your first scene is a night shot on someone’s roof. When you question why there are no lights, the camera operator asks if you think the 7-11 down the street has flashlights.
Your character breakdown is: A bitch that dies.
You’re at the director’s apartment sitting in front of a stiff pour of Jack Daniels and discussing the script when he tells you how much you remind him of Jodie Foster. On your way to the bathroom, you discover his Jodie Foster “room.”
You’re running around Griffith Park barefoot wearing a bed sheet and dumping fake blood on a man in his boxers.
The director folds your headshot into fours and puts it into his back pocket.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Get out here! You want to go for a walk? You want to or not?
Don’t you dare pee there! Bad doggie!!! You’re not…you’re not….you’re not paying attention to your mom!
Mama says you’ve been a bad boy. Come on, Honey. We’ve got stuff to do out here.
Where are my fucking papers. I can’t fucking find anything. I HATE MY LIFE!!!
C’mon Sadie, Isis, Elmo; let’s get this over with.
You wanna spank? Mamma’s gonna spank her little girl. No barksies!
Holy cow! I gotta open all those packages….see what I ordered. Usual thing -- I get all the presents, give ‘em away. Nobody gets me anything. Wow. C’mon, get in here, Sadie.
Sadie, quit! Someone’s going to end up with a big spanking. You know that, big boy? C’mon, let’s gosies.
Don’t stop at that corner cause I told you before, you’re going to get hurt. Fucking damn fool!
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Place right palm on fuselage when stepping off Jetway and into the cabin.
Make certain to get an aisle seat in the back of the plane and memorize how many rows you are in either direction from an emergency exit.
Look around and consider whether your fellow passengers seem like people who would die in a plane crash.
Admit that anyone can die in a plane crash.
Begin drawing circles on you chest with your index finger when the plane’s engines rev for takeoff.
Continue making circles on chest as plane speeds down runway and add silent chants -- either “I’m not done, I’m not done, I’m not done…” or “I’ve got more things to do, I’ve got more things to do, I’ve got more things to do…”
Stop chants and circles when plane clears runway and ask yourself real quick if you are okay with your own death. Try to give an instinctual response, not an intellectual one, and try not to judge that response.
When the wing slats retract, look out closest window and mutter “Whatever happens happens.”