So, a few months ago, two good friends of mine, Mike and Jeremy, started filming little short comedy bits about two wierd-ass roommates, Sid and Pete, who do wierd-ass things, titled "Dudes." As it turns out, they're pretty funny (especially Jeremy's "10 Dollar Sucky, Sucky: The Jeremy Arthur Story"), so I wanted in and demanded to write an episode.
Lo and behold, my first "Dudes" ep has been filmed, edited, and posted. Check out "Hail to the Chief, Baby!" in which Pete decides to run for President and Sid reluctantly agrees to help. It's got lots of profanity, and we insult nearly every Presidential candidate, so you may want to wear headphones if you have co-workers, grandparents, children, or prudes in the room.
The rest of the "Dudes" episodes can be found here. The next one should be out at some point in the near future and features Sid and Pete battling an unspeakable evil from the depths of Sid's closet.
Showing posts with label Ridiculoso. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ridiculoso. Show all posts
Friday, January 25, 2008
Sunday, January 6, 2008
THE GREATEST GAME EVER PLAYED
And, no, I’m not talking about Calvinball, though, you could make a very good case for it.
I’m referring to a game I’ve been playing with family and friends since I was but a wee Reverend. To re-cap a few points I’ve made in the past...
I love music (only slightly) more than Zooey Deschanel ("Really? No shit?"). I’m also a natural mimic, which is a personality trait that has provided endless amounts of both amusement and annoyance for those close to me. The music/mimicry connection was always both a blessing and a curse.
On one hand, I’m a musician who, until recently, had no natural singing voice, which used to suck. For a majority of my life, I was considered a "good" singer only because I could accurately imitate whoever I was covering. As of late, however, I’ve developed a decent "rock and roll voice;" it requires a bit of tweaking, but the projection and pitch are definitely there. On the other hand, as mentioned, I have an ability to consistently do very good (or very funny) impressions of other singers.
Of course, this ability is not comprehensive. I can do a good, say, Jagger or Morrison (Jim, not Van) but, due to talent issues, a bad Freddy Mercury. Mostly because that motherfucker had the voice of a God. Maybe if I grew a sweet-ass ‘70's porn ‘stache...
So, once it was established that I could do good impressions I started to play with them. I don’t quite remember when the whole ordeal started, but I definitely remember when it started becoming an obsession and a "go-to" comedy bit.
A friend of mine is a bad-ass guitar prodigy and a fellow music lover. One night, while sitting around, drinking, and smoking up, we started discussing Bob Dylan.
Now, I’ll be honest and say that I was never a big Dylan fan. I can dig on a couple of his tunes but, in my opinion, he’s a great songwriter with a horrible voice.
But it’s both very easy and very fun to pull off a humorous Dylan impression. In an old kitchen job I had, where we would listen to the oldies station, "Like a Rolling Stone" would come on (it seemed) at least once a day. So, whenever it came on, I would sing loudly in my best exaggerated Dylan voice and either make my fellow food-jockeys laugh or groan (mostly for the same reasons). I would also use the line "How does it feel?" (in Dylan’s voice) as a random greeting.
While hanging out with my guitar-prodigy friend (also a massively funny guy) we would do "Dueling Bob Dylan" impressions, which would crack us both up to no end. Then we started thinking, "What would it sound like if Bob Dylan covered stuff that Bob Dylan would never cover?"
Thus, a terrible and beautiful thing was born...
Our first stab at hilarity was the "Yo! Bob Dylan Raps!" idea. What if Bob Dylan were to cover, say, Snoop’s "Gin and Juice?" Or Method Man’s "Bring the Pain?" Or, better yet, NWA’s "Straight Outta Compton?"
From there, the idea soon went completely out of orbit and began to encompass all the wackiest covers we could devise. For your consideration...
-Neil Diamond singing Nine Inch Nails’ "Heresy." Just imagine Neil singing the lines, "Your God is dead/ And no one cares/ If there is a Hell/ I’ll see you there." (That would be, technically, Nine Inch Neil.)
-Frank Sinatra singing Hank Williams’ "Family Tradition." Or Frank singing Marvin Gaye’s "Let’s Get it On." (Or Frank singing any song written after 1960-something.)
-Metallica covering Amy Grant’s "Baby, Baby." (With frequent vocal fills comprising only the phrases, "Yeeeah!" and "Yeeeah-Heh!")
-The Ramones covering the "Happy Birthday" song. (Nah, that’s too easy...)
-Christina Aguilera singing Slayer’s "Dead Skin Mask." (This is actually the one I’d be most interested in hearing.)
-Cannibal Corpse covering James Blunt’s "Beautiful." (A very close second to Aguilera’s "Dead Skin Mask.")
-Michael McDonald singing anything, including songs that Michael McDonald has both written and originated. (Michael McDonald is, by far, the most amusing singer to impersonate.)
And that’s just off the top of my head. I only wish I could remember some of the more inspired, off-the-cuff covers I’ve done over the years.
So, if you can impersonate anybody, please do so. And, please, do so in a context completely outside of that person’s normal safe-zone.
I’m even debating buying a microphone, figuring out how in the Holy Hell to make a podcast, and impersonating my favorites. But that seems like a shit-load of work. And I’m a lazy bastard.
Anyway, introduce your friends, family, and co-workers to this immensely enjoyable game. If they don’t kill you, they’ll only love you ten times more...
I’m referring to a game I’ve been playing with family and friends since I was but a wee Reverend. To re-cap a few points I’ve made in the past...
I love music (only slightly) more than Zooey Deschanel ("Really? No shit?"). I’m also a natural mimic, which is a personality trait that has provided endless amounts of both amusement and annoyance for those close to me. The music/mimicry connection was always both a blessing and a curse.
On one hand, I’m a musician who, until recently, had no natural singing voice, which used to suck. For a majority of my life, I was considered a "good" singer only because I could accurately imitate whoever I was covering. As of late, however, I’ve developed a decent "rock and roll voice;" it requires a bit of tweaking, but the projection and pitch are definitely there. On the other hand, as mentioned, I have an ability to consistently do very good (or very funny) impressions of other singers.
Of course, this ability is not comprehensive. I can do a good, say, Jagger or Morrison (Jim, not Van) but, due to talent issues, a bad Freddy Mercury. Mostly because that motherfucker had the voice of a God. Maybe if I grew a sweet-ass ‘70's porn ‘stache...
So, once it was established that I could do good impressions I started to play with them. I don’t quite remember when the whole ordeal started, but I definitely remember when it started becoming an obsession and a "go-to" comedy bit.
A friend of mine is a bad-ass guitar prodigy and a fellow music lover. One night, while sitting around, drinking, and smoking up, we started discussing Bob Dylan.
Now, I’ll be honest and say that I was never a big Dylan fan. I can dig on a couple of his tunes but, in my opinion, he’s a great songwriter with a horrible voice.
But it’s both very easy and very fun to pull off a humorous Dylan impression. In an old kitchen job I had, where we would listen to the oldies station, "Like a Rolling Stone" would come on (it seemed) at least once a day. So, whenever it came on, I would sing loudly in my best exaggerated Dylan voice and either make my fellow food-jockeys laugh or groan (mostly for the same reasons). I would also use the line "How does it feel?" (in Dylan’s voice) as a random greeting.
While hanging out with my guitar-prodigy friend (also a massively funny guy) we would do "Dueling Bob Dylan" impressions, which would crack us both up to no end. Then we started thinking, "What would it sound like if Bob Dylan covered stuff that Bob Dylan would never cover?"
Thus, a terrible and beautiful thing was born...
Our first stab at hilarity was the "Yo! Bob Dylan Raps!" idea. What if Bob Dylan were to cover, say, Snoop’s "Gin and Juice?" Or Method Man’s "Bring the Pain?" Or, better yet, NWA’s "Straight Outta Compton?"
From there, the idea soon went completely out of orbit and began to encompass all the wackiest covers we could devise. For your consideration...
-Neil Diamond singing Nine Inch Nails’ "Heresy." Just imagine Neil singing the lines, "Your God is dead/ And no one cares/ If there is a Hell/ I’ll see you there." (That would be, technically, Nine Inch Neil.)
-Frank Sinatra singing Hank Williams’ "Family Tradition." Or Frank singing Marvin Gaye’s "Let’s Get it On." (Or Frank singing any song written after 1960-something.)
-Metallica covering Amy Grant’s "Baby, Baby." (With frequent vocal fills comprising only the phrases, "Yeeeah!" and "Yeeeah-Heh!")
-The Ramones covering the "Happy Birthday" song. (Nah, that’s too easy...)
-Christina Aguilera singing Slayer’s "Dead Skin Mask." (This is actually the one I’d be most interested in hearing.)
-Cannibal Corpse covering James Blunt’s "Beautiful." (A very close second to Aguilera’s "Dead Skin Mask.")
-Michael McDonald singing anything, including songs that Michael McDonald has both written and originated. (Michael McDonald is, by far, the most amusing singer to impersonate.)
And that’s just off the top of my head. I only wish I could remember some of the more inspired, off-the-cuff covers I’ve done over the years.
So, if you can impersonate anybody, please do so. And, please, do so in a context completely outside of that person’s normal safe-zone.
I’m even debating buying a microphone, figuring out how in the Holy Hell to make a podcast, and impersonating my favorites. But that seems like a shit-load of work. And I’m a lazy bastard.
Anyway, introduce your friends, family, and co-workers to this immensely enjoyable game. If they don’t kill you, they’ll only love you ten times more...
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
JUMP CUTS: THE SPIDERING
-The spiderfication of the area directly outside my residence continues unabated. Even when the vinyl siding outside is pressure washed and the spindly sons of bitches are eradicated, more are back by nightfall and (though this is sheerly conjecture on my part) royally pissed off. Big ones, little ones, a cornucopia of body types, and a veritable rainbow of colors; and each of them just as disgusting and terrifying as the last. It’s like a never-ending horror show for arachnophobes (of which I am their King and Living Martyr). It’s gotten so I have to carry a broken golf club shaft around as a de-webbing stick; I've dubbed it "the Callaway Web Master Series VI."
-On a more insectoid tangent, I’ve seen some gigantic mosquitoes here in SC. I don’t remember seeing many that big (mosquito hawks aside) in VA and, while I’m glad they’re not that numerous, they’re hungry bastards and, to borrow a choice phrase from an acquaintance, "big enough to fuck chickens." The best part is that I’m finally getting some smug revenge on the people who constantly bitch at me for never wearing shorts, no matter how hot and jungle-sticky it gets.
-I’ve been thinking about this line from Chroma Key’s "America the Video" as of late. "Lost my head in my hotel room when the ground shook/Had to choose between the Bible and the phone book." That’s a good way to deal with the whole "No Atheists in Foxholes" malarkey. Hell, I’ve come close to looking the classic personification of Death in the face (and hearing him talk in ALL CAPS) and never once did I rely on anything other than myself, other people, and the natural laws of the world which, in my case, have been rather forgiving. So far, at least. The same fervent believers who take seriously the "No Atheists in Foxholes" argument will, with regularity, go to the hospital when they are sick or injured, call the police when they’ve been wronged, and seek out professional help when the occasion arises. Sure, they might pray and petition for otherworldly intervention, but when the bad shit goes down, they all end up dialing 911 in case of emergency. (Unless they handle rattlesnakes in worship; but that’s a entirely separate and very special dimension of fucked-up.)
-Also, did you notice that the "No Atheists in Foxholes" argument abbreviates to NAiF? That, to me, is the very essence of appropriateness.
-On a more insectoid tangent, I’ve seen some gigantic mosquitoes here in SC. I don’t remember seeing many that big (mosquito hawks aside) in VA and, while I’m glad they’re not that numerous, they’re hungry bastards and, to borrow a choice phrase from an acquaintance, "big enough to fuck chickens." The best part is that I’m finally getting some smug revenge on the people who constantly bitch at me for never wearing shorts, no matter how hot and jungle-sticky it gets.
-I’ve been thinking about this line from Chroma Key’s "America the Video" as of late. "Lost my head in my hotel room when the ground shook/Had to choose between the Bible and the phone book." That’s a good way to deal with the whole "No Atheists in Foxholes" malarkey. Hell, I’ve come close to looking the classic personification of Death in the face (and hearing him talk in ALL CAPS) and never once did I rely on anything other than myself, other people, and the natural laws of the world which, in my case, have been rather forgiving. So far, at least. The same fervent believers who take seriously the "No Atheists in Foxholes" argument will, with regularity, go to the hospital when they are sick or injured, call the police when they’ve been wronged, and seek out professional help when the occasion arises. Sure, they might pray and petition for otherworldly intervention, but when the bad shit goes down, they all end up dialing 911 in case of emergency. (Unless they handle rattlesnakes in worship; but that’s a entirely separate and very special dimension of fucked-up.)
-Also, did you notice that the "No Atheists in Foxholes" argument abbreviates to NAiF? That, to me, is the very essence of appropriateness.
Monday, July 2, 2007
HOW THE BIBLE WAS WRITTEN, PART II
MURRAY Abram (now known covertly as Abraham) has been waiting in his meager shack for over a week. He has again taken to writing his own personal journal and, again, speaks along with the words.)
MURRAY
So. Jonas. Said. To. Ari. “Of. Course. My. Daughter. Is. A. Virgin!”
Murray dips his feathered stylus into a bowl of ink.
MURRAY
And. Ari. Said. “Then. Why. Did. Saul. Hirschfelder. Say. That. He. Tapped. That?”
Murray dips his stylus again.
MURRAY
And. Jonas. Said. “Hey! That’s. My. Daughter. You. Son. Of. A...”
A bright light flicks on from above and Murray shields his eyes. This time he is able to speak...
MURRAY
Oh! Nice of you to show up!
The light dims a bit, so that Murray doesn’t have to squint. The voice of GOD still booms from everywhere.
GOD
What?
MURRAY
You told me to sit right here and wait for you to dictate your laws. You told me that you’d be back in an hour. Well, I’ve been waiting here for a week and a half, and...
God cuts him off...
GOD
Whoa! Whoa! You do remember that you’re talking to God, right?
MURRAY
I don’t care if I’m talking to my great-uncle Shlomo! You said an hour and you lied!
GOD
Lied? Lied? I am incapable of telling lies, my friend. Maybe... Maybe time is different on this side.
MURRAY
Well, what kind of consideration is that? I’ve got a family to feed! I’ve had to ask my brother to help with my work! That’s embarrassing! Now he thinks that I’m a cripple, or an idiot, and he’s been moving in on my wives!
GOD
Hey, I... I’ve been busy. I’ve got an entire creation to lord over, after all. Not just Murray Abraham’s house.
MURRAY
And another thing! My parents won’t speak to me! They’ve disowned me! And they bring up a good point! Abra-HAM? Ham? You do realize that we’re Jewish, don’t you?
GOD
See, that’s the thing...
MURRAY
What?
GOD
You’re Jewish now but... Well, I’ve got a plan.
MURRAY
What plan? I thought we were your chosen people. Wasn’t I chosen among the chosen?
GOD
Yeah... About that...
MURRAY
What?
GOD
See... There’s been a... Change of plan, so to speak.
MURRAY
Oh my God!
GOD
What?
MURRAY
I wasn’t asking you a question! I was venting!
GOD
Yeah, that’s gotta stop. Now. You can vent all you want, but don’t bring me into it.
MURRAY
But you’re the one who’s...
GOD
Ah! Ah! No! Curse your great-uncle Shlomo if you want, but I get a free pass. In fact, I might want you to write that down...
MURRAY
Jesus!
GOD
And don’t say that, either.
MURRAY
Why? Last time you decided to grace me with your presence, you said it!
GOD
Yeah, well... I’m saving that for later, too. Check this out. OK, you know how there’s all this evil all over the planet, right?
MURRAY
“Evil all over?” I don’t know about that. There are a few pricks here and there but...
GOD
Nothing but evil, everywhere I look. So, I figured, if people are so stupid that they aren’t gonna do good just for the sake of doing good, I’ve gotta give them a little push, right?
Murray stares up into the light, pauses, and gives the focal point of the light a critical look.
MURRAY
OK.
GOD
So, how about this? Perpetual torture.
God pauses, and Murray looks up into the light.
MURRAY
Though I don’t know why, I imagine you have a very smug look right now.
GOD
The smuggiest. Hear me out, now...
MURRAY
Why are you so smug? People are dying out here, horribly, and you're talking about "perpetual torture?"
GOD
If you’d shut the Hell up for a few seconds, maybe I’d tell you.
Murray sighs and waits.
GOD
Do you want to know?
Murray sighs again.
MURRAY
Yes.
GOD
OK. Here’s the score. You know how you believe in me, right?
MURRAY
Reluctantly.
GOD
Shut up. So, I was thinking, since I want everyone to believe in me anyway, I might as well put a fire under their collective asses. Literally.
MURRAY
I don’t follow.
GOD
I just created this... Place. There’s a Lake of Fire, right? Not a puddle, not a pond, but a lake. A Lake of Fire. A big Lake of Fire. And lots of other terrifying stuff, too, like spiders and snakes and shit. And if someone doesn’t believe in me, or chooses to rebel against me for whatever reason...
MURRAY
Like the fact that you’re crazy?
GOD
Shut up! Have you not listened? Have you not learned? And I’m not crazy. You just... You can’t even begin to comprehend the majesty and omnipotence that is my superior being! So, shut up and stay shutted up!
Murray raises his hands as if to say, “Fine! You win!”
GOD
So, if people don’t like me for whatever reason, they go into the Lake. Forever.
Murray looks up into the light.
MURRAY
Are you smiling?
GOD
Don’t be daft. I don’t even have a mouth.
MURRAY
So, what you’re saying is that... If someone doesn’t fall in line with exactly what you’re saying, then you’ll make sure that they’re thrown into a Lake of Fire for... Eternity?
GOD
Sounds about right, yes.
MURRAY
Well...
Murray trails off. God waits.
GOD
Now what’s the problem?
MURRAY
Well... You haven’t really said anything. Except “Live long and prosper.”
GOD
Ah! No!
MURRAY
Sorry! Sorry! “Be fruitful and multiply.”
GOD
Better.
MURRAY
So... What about those who follow whatever future laws you see fit to tell me?
GOD
What do you mean?
MURRAY
Well, you seem so hard-up to condemn those who defy you to a “Lake of Fire,” what’s in it for those who, I don’t know, actually agree with what you tell them?
GOD
But everyone will agree with me.
Murray pauses and puts his head in his hands.
MURRAY
Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that most people need an... Incentive to do things beyond the fact that they’ll burn in a Lake of Fire if they don’t like you. So, if we follow all your laws and such, that you’ve yet to dictate I might add, what then?
GOD
Oh... Well... How about the opposite of a Lake of Fire?
MURRAY
A Lake of Water?
GOD
No, jackass! A... A place where you can do whatever you want and be happy forever.
Murray perks up.
MURRAY
Can we have sex?
GOD
Uh... Hm... I don’t know...
MURRAY
Oh, come on! That's one of the only things we have to look forward to! If we're not tilling the fields or hunting our food or singing fun songs, we want to... You know...
GOD
We’ll see. Until then, just push the Lake of Fire. Call it... Hell... Uh...
God trails off and pauses. Murray prompts him with...
MURRAY
Call it Hell?
GOD
Whatever. And I’ve got another idea on deck...
MURRAY
Oh, I can’t wait.
GOD
I’m gonna call it, “Original Sin.” It’s a doozy.
MURRAY
I don’t doubt it.
GOD
Give me a few days to work on it.
MURRAY
I should sit here for a few months, then?
GOD
Oh, ha. Just hang tight, Abraham. When I work out the details, I’ll summon you.
MURRAY
So... Can I actually leave the shack, or should I just sit here.
GOD
Ah, go ahead and leave. I can track you down if I need you.
MURRAY
Thanks, I guess.
GOD
You’re welcome. Peace.
The light blinks off. Murray growls...
MURRAY
Why does he keep saying that?
MURRAY
So. Jonas. Said. To. Ari. “Of. Course. My. Daughter. Is. A. Virgin!”
Murray dips his feathered stylus into a bowl of ink.
MURRAY
And. Ari. Said. “Then. Why. Did. Saul. Hirschfelder. Say. That. He. Tapped. That?”
Murray dips his stylus again.
MURRAY
And. Jonas. Said. “Hey! That’s. My. Daughter. You. Son. Of. A...”
A bright light flicks on from above and Murray shields his eyes. This time he is able to speak...
MURRAY
Oh! Nice of you to show up!
The light dims a bit, so that Murray doesn’t have to squint. The voice of GOD still booms from everywhere.
GOD
What?
MURRAY
You told me to sit right here and wait for you to dictate your laws. You told me that you’d be back in an hour. Well, I’ve been waiting here for a week and a half, and...
God cuts him off...
GOD
Whoa! Whoa! You do remember that you’re talking to God, right?
MURRAY
I don’t care if I’m talking to my great-uncle Shlomo! You said an hour and you lied!
GOD
Lied? Lied? I am incapable of telling lies, my friend. Maybe... Maybe time is different on this side.
MURRAY
Well, what kind of consideration is that? I’ve got a family to feed! I’ve had to ask my brother to help with my work! That’s embarrassing! Now he thinks that I’m a cripple, or an idiot, and he’s been moving in on my wives!
GOD
Hey, I... I’ve been busy. I’ve got an entire creation to lord over, after all. Not just Murray Abraham’s house.
MURRAY
And another thing! My parents won’t speak to me! They’ve disowned me! And they bring up a good point! Abra-HAM? Ham? You do realize that we’re Jewish, don’t you?
GOD
See, that’s the thing...
MURRAY
What?
GOD
You’re Jewish now but... Well, I’ve got a plan.
MURRAY
What plan? I thought we were your chosen people. Wasn’t I chosen among the chosen?
GOD
Yeah... About that...
MURRAY
What?
GOD
See... There’s been a... Change of plan, so to speak.
MURRAY
Oh my God!
GOD
What?
MURRAY
I wasn’t asking you a question! I was venting!
GOD
Yeah, that’s gotta stop. Now. You can vent all you want, but don’t bring me into it.
MURRAY
But you’re the one who’s...
GOD
Ah! Ah! No! Curse your great-uncle Shlomo if you want, but I get a free pass. In fact, I might want you to write that down...
MURRAY
Jesus!
GOD
And don’t say that, either.
MURRAY
Why? Last time you decided to grace me with your presence, you said it!
GOD
Yeah, well... I’m saving that for later, too. Check this out. OK, you know how there’s all this evil all over the planet, right?
MURRAY
“Evil all over?” I don’t know about that. There are a few pricks here and there but...
GOD
Nothing but evil, everywhere I look. So, I figured, if people are so stupid that they aren’t gonna do good just for the sake of doing good, I’ve gotta give them a little push, right?
Murray stares up into the light, pauses, and gives the focal point of the light a critical look.
MURRAY
OK.
GOD
So, how about this? Perpetual torture.
God pauses, and Murray looks up into the light.
MURRAY
Though I don’t know why, I imagine you have a very smug look right now.
GOD
The smuggiest. Hear me out, now...
MURRAY
Why are you so smug? People are dying out here, horribly, and you're talking about "perpetual torture?"
GOD
If you’d shut the Hell up for a few seconds, maybe I’d tell you.
Murray sighs and waits.
GOD
Do you want to know?
Murray sighs again.
MURRAY
Yes.
GOD
OK. Here’s the score. You know how you believe in me, right?
MURRAY
Reluctantly.
GOD
Shut up. So, I was thinking, since I want everyone to believe in me anyway, I might as well put a fire under their collective asses. Literally.
MURRAY
I don’t follow.
GOD
I just created this... Place. There’s a Lake of Fire, right? Not a puddle, not a pond, but a lake. A Lake of Fire. A big Lake of Fire. And lots of other terrifying stuff, too, like spiders and snakes and shit. And if someone doesn’t believe in me, or chooses to rebel against me for whatever reason...
MURRAY
Like the fact that you’re crazy?
GOD
Shut up! Have you not listened? Have you not learned? And I’m not crazy. You just... You can’t even begin to comprehend the majesty and omnipotence that is my superior being! So, shut up and stay shutted up!
Murray raises his hands as if to say, “Fine! You win!”
GOD
So, if people don’t like me for whatever reason, they go into the Lake. Forever.
Murray looks up into the light.
MURRAY
Are you smiling?
GOD
Don’t be daft. I don’t even have a mouth.
MURRAY
So, what you’re saying is that... If someone doesn’t fall in line with exactly what you’re saying, then you’ll make sure that they’re thrown into a Lake of Fire for... Eternity?
GOD
Sounds about right, yes.
MURRAY
Well...
Murray trails off. God waits.
GOD
Now what’s the problem?
MURRAY
Well... You haven’t really said anything. Except “Live long and prosper.”
GOD
Ah! No!
MURRAY
Sorry! Sorry! “Be fruitful and multiply.”
GOD
Better.
MURRAY
So... What about those who follow whatever future laws you see fit to tell me?
GOD
What do you mean?
MURRAY
Well, you seem so hard-up to condemn those who defy you to a “Lake of Fire,” what’s in it for those who, I don’t know, actually agree with what you tell them?
GOD
But everyone will agree with me.
Murray pauses and puts his head in his hands.
MURRAY
Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that most people need an... Incentive to do things beyond the fact that they’ll burn in a Lake of Fire if they don’t like you. So, if we follow all your laws and such, that you’ve yet to dictate I might add, what then?
GOD
Oh... Well... How about the opposite of a Lake of Fire?
MURRAY
A Lake of Water?
GOD
No, jackass! A... A place where you can do whatever you want and be happy forever.
Murray perks up.
MURRAY
Can we have sex?
GOD
Uh... Hm... I don’t know...
MURRAY
Oh, come on! That's one of the only things we have to look forward to! If we're not tilling the fields or hunting our food or singing fun songs, we want to... You know...
GOD
We’ll see. Until then, just push the Lake of Fire. Call it... Hell... Uh...
God trails off and pauses. Murray prompts him with...
MURRAY
Call it Hell?
GOD
Whatever. And I’ve got another idea on deck...
MURRAY
Oh, I can’t wait.
GOD
I’m gonna call it, “Original Sin.” It’s a doozy.
MURRAY
I don’t doubt it.
GOD
Give me a few days to work on it.
MURRAY
I should sit here for a few months, then?
GOD
Oh, ha. Just hang tight, Abraham. When I work out the details, I’ll summon you.
MURRAY
So... Can I actually leave the shack, or should I just sit here.
GOD
Ah, go ahead and leave. I can track you down if I need you.
MURRAY
Thanks, I guess.
GOD
You’re welcome. Peace.
The light blinks off. Murray growls...
MURRAY
Why does he keep saying that?
Thursday, June 28, 2007
HOW THE BIBLE WAS WRITTEN
An old man, MURRAY, sits in a tent. He is writing on a scroll of parchment and speaking along with the words.
MURRAY
And. Then. Gladys. Puked. On. My. Goat.
Murray dips his feathered stylus in a bowl of ink.
MURRAY
So. I. Said. "Gladys! Why. Did. You. Puke. On. My. Goat?"
Murray dips his stylus again.
MURRAY
And. She. Said...
Before he can continue, a light flashes on from above him. Murray glances up into the light, shields his eyes, and can’t speak.
A booming voice, the voice of GOD, comes from everywhere.
GOD
Are you Murray Abram?
Murray takes a second to answer.
MURRAY
Yes?
GOD
Good. My name is... Um... Well...
God trails off into mumbling.
MURRAY
I’m sorry? What was that?
GOD
Well, some people call me El Shaddai. But, then some call me Jehovah. And some call me Yahweh. Then, in the distant future, some will call me...
MURRAY
I’m sorry, again. I just... What are you?
GOD
I am your God.
MURRAY
Which God?
GOD
What?
MURRAY
See, we’ve got a few, so...
GOD
No! No you don’t! You only have one, and I’m Him!
MURRAY
Oh. Really?
GOD
Yes, really! Am I not speaking to you from a beam of light?
MURRAY
You are.
GOD
You’re damn skippy! Now, where was I...
MURRAY
You’re my God?
GOD
Yes. I am. I am that I am.
Murray starts to say something, then stops.
GOD
What was that?
MURRAY
I’m sorry, it’s just... What does that mean?
GOD
What does what mean?
MURRAY
"I am that I am?" It doesn’t make any sense. It’s like saying, "A tree is a tree."
GOD
Oh, don’t be stupid. I am that I am because I am. I’m, like, everything. I’m you, a little bit. Except not so questiony...
MURRAY
So, you created me?
GOD
In a roundabout way.
MURRAY
Why?
God pauses.
GOD
I’m sorry, what?
MURRAY
Why am I here? Why did you create me?
GOD
Oh, well, I... You know... I, uh, created you for a purpose.
MURRAY
What purpose?
GOD
To... Live long and prosper.
MURRAY
To live long and prosper? Hey, sounds good to me.
GOD
No, wait! How about, "be fruitful and increase in number." I’m gonna save the other line for later.
MURRAY
OK.
GOD
So, is there anything else?
MURRAY
Um... You’re the one who came to me.
GOD
Oh, I didn’t just come to you, I... I chose you.
MURRAY
For what?
GOD
To... To spread my word.
MURRAY
But all you’ve told me is that I’m chosen and you want humanity to, I’m guessing, have a bunch of sex.
GOD
I didn’t say that! When did I say that?
MURRAY
"Be fruitful and multiply?" Yeah, sounds like sex to me...
GOD
Fine, sex it up, then. Just, here’s the thing. I want you to...
God stops. Murray waits.
MURRAY
Yes? Um, Mr. God? Sir?
GOD
I’m sorry, I had to let my dog in. Look, don’t worry about what I said before. Oh yeah, and your name is Abraham now.
MURRAY
What? Why?
GOD
How about "Because I’m God."
MURRAY
But my mother will kill me!
GOD
You want I should bump her off for you?
MURRAY
No! She’s my mother!
GOD
Then deal with it. Look, just sit here and wait for me to contact you. I’m gonna be dictating my ultimate message of authority and whatnot and so forth.
MURRAY
But... But why do I have to write it down? Can’t you...
GOD
Stop. Just... Just stop. Let me reiterate. I... Listen carefully now. I am God. I am telling you to sit here and write things down for me because I am God. What am I?
MURRAY
God.
GOD
Who am I?
MURRAY
God.
GOD
Thank you.
Murray pauses. God does the same. When Murray speaks, God cuts him off directly...
MURRAY
But, why...
GOD
Because I don’t have freaking arms! OK? No arms means no hands which means no writing. Just do it, OK?
MURRAY
OK.
GOD
OK?
MURRAY
OK!
GOD
Is that all? If it’s not, make it quick, I’ve got a city about 40 kilometers north of here that needs to be destroyed, so...
MURRAY
Well, there is one thing...
GOD
Jesus! What?
MURRAY
Could you tell Gladys to stop getting drunk and puking on my goat?
GOD
So shall it be.
MURRAY
Thanks, God.
GOD
No problem. But, when you continue writing, you’ve gotta cut the part about puking on a goat.
MURRAY
If you say so.
GOD
Call it editorial oversight. Be here in an hour. I might want to dictate some laws or something.
MURRAY
Sure. Sure.
GOD
So... Hey, take it easy.
MURRAY
Same to you. God.
GOD
Peace.
The light blinks off. Murray looks up to his normal ceiling, then looks around. When he realizes he is alone again, he shakes his head...
MURRAY
Of all the gods in the world, I’ve gotta get the crazy one.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
GUESS WHAT?
(First saw this at Chez Bob.)
I am thusly rated...
I am thusly rated...
Mingle2 - Online Dating
This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:
fucking (14x)
shit (11x)
fuck (7x)
hurt (4x)
murder (3x)
pain (2x)
gay (1x)
The list is funny until it gets to the last item, then it gets asinine.
Holy fucking murder-pain-hurt shit! I said "Gay!"
Aaaah! I said it again!
Saturday, June 9, 2007
WALTER WILLOUGHBY VS. TUCKER LEE THOMPSON
I wrote the following bits for a potential student-created-and-produced play at my alma mater that, unfortunately, never got off the ground. We realized the plausibility of pulling it off a bit too late in the year and, by the time we got tacit approval from the instructors, it was only half-written and we were all embroiled in official theater productions, a directorial class final project, and final exams in general.
What my fellow actors ("Big Up Yourself" to P.T., Lambo, and Ty) and I had concocted was a frenetic, free-flowing, sketch-comedy-type show. It was to feature crazy original music, musical-theatre-parodies, absurd sketches (including a Satanic creative writing seminar), and other bits of random comedy. The fabled "Fourth Wall" was virtually non-existent (like "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged") and we even had some weird, existential bits like a lengthy introduction/disclaimer for a scene never intended to be performed.
A running gag throughout the production featured two fictional candidates campaigning for the mayorship of a fictional city in Virginia. The fake campaigns were to comprise a multimedia extravaganza, with fake posters all over the theatre, college, and town, a slide show accompanying a dramatic voice-over, and, in the end, an actual debate between the candidates which would quickly devolve into petty name-calling and slander.
Just because I always thought they were amusing and they will likely never be performed, here are the first ads from each candidate...
WALTER WILLOUGHBY AD, #1
(The projection screen is blank. A faint instrumental version of "God Bless America" plays.)
(A stereotypical "rich white guy," WALTER WILLOUGHBY, in a conservative black suit and blue tie, walks to center stage.)
(SLIDE: "WILLOUGHBY ‘05.")
WILLOUGHBY
I’m Walter Willoughby, and I approved this ad.
(WILLOUGHBY leaves. An ANNOUNCER comes over the PA; he sounds like the guy who does every movie trailer, just a bit softer and more reverent.)
(As the ANNOUNCER narrates certain things in VOICE OVER, corresponding slides are projected...)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
Walter Willoughby has served the public as a prosecuting attorney...
(SLIDE: WILLOUGHBY lectures a jury; he wears the same suit and tie.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
A health and physical education teacher at Madison Falls Middle School...
(SLIDE: WILLOUGHBY, standing in front of a class of kids, uses a yardstick to point to posters of male and female genetalia taped to a blackboard; he wears the same suit and tie.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
And the chairman of a children’s charity, "Kidz Be Ballin’", which provides culturally-significant sports equipment to underprivileged, inner-city, non-white youths.
(SLIDE: WILLOUGHBY, shooting a sky-hook, plays basketball against a group of young black kids less than half his size; he wears the same suit and tie.)
(The strains of "God Bless America" transition into a darker, more menacing instrumental.)
(SLIDE: Another man, who looks similar to WILLOUGHBY, TUCKER LEE THOMPSON, wears an identical suit with a red tie instead of blue; THOMPSON also wears elbow-length, yellow rubber gloves and a surgical mask pulled down below his chin. He holds a vacuum cleaner extension in one hand and gives a "thumbs up" with the other; he looks to be caught in mid-laugh.)
(The ANNOUNCER takes on a darker, more accusatory tone.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
His opponent for Mayor of Madison Falls, Republican Tucker Lee Thompson, works in abortion clinics for fun.
(SLIDE: "VOTE WILLOUGHBY: ABORTIONS AREN’T FOR FUN.")
(SLIDE: "PAID FOR BY FRIENDS OF FAMILY VALUES FOR WALTER WILLOUGHBY")
And now, the other side of the race...
TUCKER LEE THOMPSON AD, #1
(The projection screen is blank. A faint, instrumental version of "America the Beautiful" plays.)
(Another "rich white guy," TUCKER LEE THOMPSON, in a conservative black suit and red tie, walks to center stage. He greatly resembles WILLOUGHBY in mannerisms, demeanor, and accent.)
(SLIDE: "THOMPSON ‘05.")
THOMPSON
I’m Tucker Lee Thompson, and I approved this ad.
(THOMPSON leaves. The same ANNOUNCER comes on and treats THOMPSON with the same reverence once reserved for WILLOUGHBY. Once again, corresponding slides are projected with the narration.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
Tucker Lee Thompson has aided his community as the Dean of the Stonewall Jackson Military Academy...
(SLIDE: THOMPSON salutes a line of teens in military school uniforms; he wears the same suit and tie.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
A volunteer at the Madison Falls YMCA...
(SLIDE: THOMPSON floats underwater with a few kids in the background and gives an enthusiastic "thumbs up;" he wears the same suit and tie.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
And president of the non-profit Spragen-Michner group for underprivileged, inner-city, non-white, mentally challenged, bedridden children.
(SLIDE: THOMPSON performs a crappy sock puppet theater for a sickly-looking black kid in a hospital bed; he wears the same suit and tie.)
(The strains of "America the Beautiful" transition into the same dark instrumental played during the WILLOUGHBY ad.)
(SLIDE: WILLOUGHBY, wearing his black suit and blue tie, holds a blender in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other. An adorable kitten sits in the blender; WILLOUGHBY seems caught in mid-laugh.)
(Again, the ANNOUNCER takes on a darker, more accusatory tone.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
The Democratic candidate for Mayor of Madison Falls, Walter Willoughby, drinks kitten margaritas.
(SLIDE: "VOTE THOMPSON: NO KITTENS IN MARGARITAS.")
(SLIDE: "PAID FOR BY FAMILIES FOR FAMILY VALUES FOR TUCKER LEE THOMPSON.")
What my fellow actors ("Big Up Yourself" to P.T., Lambo, and Ty) and I had concocted was a frenetic, free-flowing, sketch-comedy-type show. It was to feature crazy original music, musical-theatre-parodies, absurd sketches (including a Satanic creative writing seminar), and other bits of random comedy. The fabled "Fourth Wall" was virtually non-existent (like "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged") and we even had some weird, existential bits like a lengthy introduction/disclaimer for a scene never intended to be performed.
A running gag throughout the production featured two fictional candidates campaigning for the mayorship of a fictional city in Virginia. The fake campaigns were to comprise a multimedia extravaganza, with fake posters all over the theatre, college, and town, a slide show accompanying a dramatic voice-over, and, in the end, an actual debate between the candidates which would quickly devolve into petty name-calling and slander.
Just because I always thought they were amusing and they will likely never be performed, here are the first ads from each candidate...
WALTER WILLOUGHBY AD, #1
(The projection screen is blank. A faint instrumental version of "God Bless America" plays.)
(A stereotypical "rich white guy," WALTER WILLOUGHBY, in a conservative black suit and blue tie, walks to center stage.)
(SLIDE: "WILLOUGHBY ‘05.")
WILLOUGHBY
I’m Walter Willoughby, and I approved this ad.
(WILLOUGHBY leaves. An ANNOUNCER comes over the PA; he sounds like the guy who does every movie trailer, just a bit softer and more reverent.)
(As the ANNOUNCER narrates certain things in VOICE OVER, corresponding slides are projected...)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
Walter Willoughby has served the public as a prosecuting attorney...
(SLIDE: WILLOUGHBY lectures a jury; he wears the same suit and tie.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
A health and physical education teacher at Madison Falls Middle School...
(SLIDE: WILLOUGHBY, standing in front of a class of kids, uses a yardstick to point to posters of male and female genetalia taped to a blackboard; he wears the same suit and tie.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
And the chairman of a children’s charity, "Kidz Be Ballin’", which provides culturally-significant sports equipment to underprivileged, inner-city, non-white youths.
(SLIDE: WILLOUGHBY, shooting a sky-hook, plays basketball against a group of young black kids less than half his size; he wears the same suit and tie.)
(The strains of "God Bless America" transition into a darker, more menacing instrumental.)
(SLIDE: Another man, who looks similar to WILLOUGHBY, TUCKER LEE THOMPSON, wears an identical suit with a red tie instead of blue; THOMPSON also wears elbow-length, yellow rubber gloves and a surgical mask pulled down below his chin. He holds a vacuum cleaner extension in one hand and gives a "thumbs up" with the other; he looks to be caught in mid-laugh.)
(The ANNOUNCER takes on a darker, more accusatory tone.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
His opponent for Mayor of Madison Falls, Republican Tucker Lee Thompson, works in abortion clinics for fun.
(SLIDE: "VOTE WILLOUGHBY: ABORTIONS AREN’T FOR FUN.")
(SLIDE: "PAID FOR BY FRIENDS OF FAMILY VALUES FOR WALTER WILLOUGHBY")
And now, the other side of the race...
TUCKER LEE THOMPSON AD, #1
(The projection screen is blank. A faint, instrumental version of "America the Beautiful" plays.)
(Another "rich white guy," TUCKER LEE THOMPSON, in a conservative black suit and red tie, walks to center stage. He greatly resembles WILLOUGHBY in mannerisms, demeanor, and accent.)
(SLIDE: "THOMPSON ‘05.")
THOMPSON
I’m Tucker Lee Thompson, and I approved this ad.
(THOMPSON leaves. The same ANNOUNCER comes on and treats THOMPSON with the same reverence once reserved for WILLOUGHBY. Once again, corresponding slides are projected with the narration.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
Tucker Lee Thompson has aided his community as the Dean of the Stonewall Jackson Military Academy...
(SLIDE: THOMPSON salutes a line of teens in military school uniforms; he wears the same suit and tie.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
A volunteer at the Madison Falls YMCA...
(SLIDE: THOMPSON floats underwater with a few kids in the background and gives an enthusiastic "thumbs up;" he wears the same suit and tie.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
And president of the non-profit Spragen-Michner group for underprivileged, inner-city, non-white, mentally challenged, bedridden children.
(SLIDE: THOMPSON performs a crappy sock puppet theater for a sickly-looking black kid in a hospital bed; he wears the same suit and tie.)
(The strains of "America the Beautiful" transition into the same dark instrumental played during the WILLOUGHBY ad.)
(SLIDE: WILLOUGHBY, wearing his black suit and blue tie, holds a blender in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other. An adorable kitten sits in the blender; WILLOUGHBY seems caught in mid-laugh.)
(Again, the ANNOUNCER takes on a darker, more accusatory tone.)
ANNOUNCER
(VO)
The Democratic candidate for Mayor of Madison Falls, Walter Willoughby, drinks kitten margaritas.
(SLIDE: "VOTE THOMPSON: NO KITTENS IN MARGARITAS.")
(SLIDE: "PAID FOR BY FAMILIES FOR FAMILY VALUES FOR TUCKER LEE THOMPSON.")
Friday, June 8, 2007
ANGELIC BEINGS DOING MUNDANE THINGS
Found in this week's Swift; Item 3, "An Old Act."
Wow! Angels! Legions of them! And they help us with specific things in our lives, even things that have no real bearing on anything else at all!
I have much in common with the Angel Lady; for instance, we both offer good, clean, family fun. And like the Angel Lady, I, too, enjoy making shit up. So, here are some of the pertinent angels for modern living...
Julius, Angel of Bad Stand-Up Comedians: Entire set consists of jokes about Britney Spears not wearing underwear and Paris Hilton in solitary.
Mervin, Angel of Console Video Game Systems: Causes your $500 Xbox 360 to die six months after purchase. Somehow, keeps your Sega Genesis running to this day.
Mary, Angel of Advertising and Marketing: Has an open disdain for stupid people, i.e. "you."
Edward, Angel of Misogyny: Wonders where his goddamn dinner is, why you can't fix yourself up every now and again.
Will Wheaton, Angel of Nerditry: Big on the Internets. Tends to kick ass. Was on some sci-fi show.
Herman, Angel of Reality TV Shows: Next season's biggest hit, "My Baby Wants a Sex-Change."
Laura, Angel of Punditry: Contends that everything you've ever believed is wrong. Can prove it using only appeals to emotion and uncompromising smarm.
Caroline, Angel of Performance Art: Spends an hour and a half inside a glass cube humping a medicine ball while reciting the owner's manual for an '87 Ford Escort in German.
Marshall, Angel of Basketball: Hopes you brought a number two pencil, bitch, 'cause he's 'bout to take you to school. Face!
Tommy, Angel of Animal Rights: Eats dolphin-safe tuna. Throws paint on fur coats. Wears leather shoes.
Henrietta, Angel of Recreational Drugs: Can hear colors, pluck the stars from the sky and eat them. Also, thinks you're pretty fucking rad.
Morgan, Angel of Elective Surgery: Has calf implants, tail.
Roger, Angel of Skateboarding: Can totally gnar-dog that death gap, brah.
Lorraine, Angel of Angry Feminists: Hates men. Hates women who like men. Hates gay men because they like men. Really hates Manfred Mann.
Remember, the angels are all around us; they shadow us and help us decide our destinies, or some such shit. So, keep on the lookout for these winged harbingers of triviality and thank them for, I don't know, prying the lid off a jar of dill strips or helping you pick the perfect set of matched luggage.
Wow! Angels! Legions of them! And they help us with specific things in our lives, even things that have no real bearing on anything else at all!
I have much in common with the Angel Lady; for instance, we both offer good, clean, family fun. And like the Angel Lady, I, too, enjoy making shit up. So, here are some of the pertinent angels for modern living...
Julius, Angel of Bad Stand-Up Comedians: Entire set consists of jokes about Britney Spears not wearing underwear and Paris Hilton in solitary.
Mervin, Angel of Console Video Game Systems: Causes your $500 Xbox 360 to die six months after purchase. Somehow, keeps your Sega Genesis running to this day.
Mary, Angel of Advertising and Marketing: Has an open disdain for stupid people, i.e. "you."
Edward, Angel of Misogyny: Wonders where his goddamn dinner is, why you can't fix yourself up every now and again.
Will Wheaton, Angel of Nerditry: Big on the Internets. Tends to kick ass. Was on some sci-fi show.
Herman, Angel of Reality TV Shows: Next season's biggest hit, "My Baby Wants a Sex-Change."
Laura, Angel of Punditry: Contends that everything you've ever believed is wrong. Can prove it using only appeals to emotion and uncompromising smarm.
Caroline, Angel of Performance Art: Spends an hour and a half inside a glass cube humping a medicine ball while reciting the owner's manual for an '87 Ford Escort in German.
Marshall, Angel of Basketball: Hopes you brought a number two pencil, bitch, 'cause he's 'bout to take you to school. Face!
Tommy, Angel of Animal Rights: Eats dolphin-safe tuna. Throws paint on fur coats. Wears leather shoes.
Henrietta, Angel of Recreational Drugs: Can hear colors, pluck the stars from the sky and eat them. Also, thinks you're pretty fucking rad.
Morgan, Angel of Elective Surgery: Has calf implants, tail.
Roger, Angel of Skateboarding: Can totally gnar-dog that death gap, brah.
Lorraine, Angel of Angry Feminists: Hates men. Hates women who like men. Hates gay men because they like men. Really hates Manfred Mann.
Remember, the angels are all around us; they shadow us and help us decide our destinies, or some such shit. So, keep on the lookout for these winged harbingers of triviality and thank them for, I don't know, prying the lid off a jar of dill strips or helping you pick the perfect set of matched luggage.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
FUN THINGS TO ANNOY OR AMUSE YOUR FRIENDS...
I’ve always lived by one philosophy; "Your friends are the assholes you can tolerate the most."
Not to say they can’t be fun people you really enjoy being around, but, come on, even your close friends can be real pricks. For me, those are the best friends...
I believe in a code of friendship where you can, essentially, take out all your random frustrations in a constructive, amusing way without fear of any dire consequences. Instead of rising up in violent retribution against any perceived slight, you should be able to, say, rip mercilessly on a buddy for having "fat ankles" until he finally gets annoyed and yells at you.
Well, OK, you got me. That take on friendship is too cynical even for my tastes, but it is partially true.
Becoming close with anyone automatically entails a certain amount of good-natured annoyance and playful insults. In the interest of helping others fully enjoy blatantly screwing with the minds of their dear, dear pals, I’ve compiled a short list of "Fun Things to Annoy or Amuse Your Friends."
STUPID DANCES
This one is potent if you have a friend who is either (a) shy in public or (b) worried about "not looking cool." It also works for anyone, at any time, and in any situation, provided the dance is stupid enough.
If you've ever watched "Arrested Development," you’ve seen Gob’s "Chicken Dance." If not, behold. This is the level of stupidity you should aspire to.
Certain "stupid dances" work better than others in a given situation. For example, a "stupid dance" you would use to celebrate, say, throwing a piece of balled-up paper into a trash can might differ greatly from the "stupid dance" you would use to intentionally embarrass a friend on a crowded dance floor.
Here are two more examples (given the "Chicken Dance" as a first)...
"Surgeon Hands" or "The Funky Surgeon"
Simply hold your hands in front of your chest with the palms facing towards you, like a surgeon would after sterilizing their hands. Now, in time to the music, of course, move your "Surgeon Hands" up and down and groove.
You can then say stupid things like, "Aw, someone better bring me a beer, stat!" Or, "Funky Surgeon’s ‘bout to open up your heart, girl!"
"The Mummy" or "Fuck-You-Hotep"
This one works best with lots of people around. Simply hold your arms in front of you, stumble around like you’re drunk (or have been dead for a few thousand years), and moan periodically. All those club kids with the glow-sticks and pacifiers will love it.
THE PUNCHLINE WITH NO JOKE
No, it’s not a bastardized Zen koan; it’s actually a fairly old, mostly tired ruse that only works really well with a certain personality.
Know the guy/girl who, if you mumble something to yourself, will keep asking, "What did you say?" This will nail that guy/girl at least once, maybe several times if they're a few old ladies short of a sewing circle and/or unbelievably gullible.
It only works if you have at least one accomplice. If "the mark" should leave the room for more than a minute (maybe less, it depends), explain the ruse to your accomplice(s) then...
Just as "the mark" returns, act like you’re just finishing the best joke in the world. It works even better if you can come up with a really weird punchline. My friends and I always worked off the "And, so I/he/she/random name said..." template, just to get an honest competition out of it. So, when "the mark" enters, be on the verge of breaking down in laughter and say something like...
"And, so I said, ‘If you think that’s a rodeo, Mister, you ain’t seen jack shit!’"
Then you and your accomplice(s) laugh like it’s the funniest thing since Lenny Bruce.
If all goes according to plan, "the mark" should want to hear the joke also. Whatever you do, make sure "the mark" is told something along the lines of, "Ah, you wouldn’t get it."
If "the mark" is of a certain personality, he/she will be driven to the brink of insanity until he/she hears the "joke." Surprisingly, it also works on "normal" people every now and again but you've gotta commit (and a large number of competently manipulative accomplices helps).
THANKS TO YOU, I HAD "DANCING QUEEN" STUCK IN MY HEAD THE WHOLE GODDAMN TIME!
My absolute favorite. Since I listen to a lot of random music and tend to associate with people who do the same, this always ends up being a very simple game.
It works well if you have a friend who hates, say, a particular genre of music that you happen to dig. I’ve found, however, that it works better if you happen to use a song that "the mark" likes.
I prefer to use 80's songs because, for some reason, people either really love or really hate 80's songs. Either way, it works for me.
Some songs I’ve used recently include...
Steve Winwood - "Higher Love" (From "Back in the High Life")
John Parr - "St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion)" (From the "St. Elmo’s Fire" Soundtrack)
Paul Simon - "You Can Call Me Al" (From "Graceland")
Huey Lewis - "The Power of Love" (From the "Back to the Future" Soundtrack)
Hall and Oates - "Private Eyes" (From "Private Eyes")
The H&O, particularly, is often devastating if "stuck" because you automatically want to go...
YOU
Private eyes!
(Clap!)
YOU
They're watching you!
(Clap! Clap!)
If you can, try to do it before someone does something fairly important, like work, school, a funeral, a quadruple bypass, etc.
The title of this bit comes from direct experience. A few years back, I caught a college buddy before an important business exam and sort of absent-mindedly sang some ABBA during lulls in the conversation. After the test, he walked in my dorm room, slammed the door, pointed a menacing finger at me, and said, with all the malice a person could possibly muster, "Thanks to you, I had ‘Dancing Queen’ stuck in my head the whole goddamn time!"
I also have friends who won’t hesitate to get cheap and paltry with this game. I draw the line at using commercial jingles or modern pop/country songs but, sadly, I have more than a handful of acquaintances with no such scruples.
One guy in particular (let’s call him "Bitchpants," because he would do this frequently) would whistle the Enzyte theme at inopportune times and also sang various McDonald’s jingles. Damn you, Bitchpaaaaaaaants!
Not to say they can’t be fun people you really enjoy being around, but, come on, even your close friends can be real pricks. For me, those are the best friends...
I believe in a code of friendship where you can, essentially, take out all your random frustrations in a constructive, amusing way without fear of any dire consequences. Instead of rising up in violent retribution against any perceived slight, you should be able to, say, rip mercilessly on a buddy for having "fat ankles" until he finally gets annoyed and yells at you.
Well, OK, you got me. That take on friendship is too cynical even for my tastes, but it is partially true.
Becoming close with anyone automatically entails a certain amount of good-natured annoyance and playful insults. In the interest of helping others fully enjoy blatantly screwing with the minds of their dear, dear pals, I’ve compiled a short list of "Fun Things to Annoy or Amuse Your Friends."
STUPID DANCES
This one is potent if you have a friend who is either (a) shy in public or (b) worried about "not looking cool." It also works for anyone, at any time, and in any situation, provided the dance is stupid enough.
If you've ever watched "Arrested Development," you’ve seen Gob’s "Chicken Dance." If not, behold. This is the level of stupidity you should aspire to.
Certain "stupid dances" work better than others in a given situation. For example, a "stupid dance" you would use to celebrate, say, throwing a piece of balled-up paper into a trash can might differ greatly from the "stupid dance" you would use to intentionally embarrass a friend on a crowded dance floor.
Here are two more examples (given the "Chicken Dance" as a first)...
"Surgeon Hands" or "The Funky Surgeon"
Simply hold your hands in front of your chest with the palms facing towards you, like a surgeon would after sterilizing their hands. Now, in time to the music, of course, move your "Surgeon Hands" up and down and groove.
You can then say stupid things like, "Aw, someone better bring me a beer, stat!" Or, "Funky Surgeon’s ‘bout to open up your heart, girl!"
"The Mummy" or "Fuck-You-Hotep"
This one works best with lots of people around. Simply hold your arms in front of you, stumble around like you’re drunk (or have been dead for a few thousand years), and moan periodically. All those club kids with the glow-sticks and pacifiers will love it.
THE PUNCHLINE WITH NO JOKE
No, it’s not a bastardized Zen koan; it’s actually a fairly old, mostly tired ruse that only works really well with a certain personality.
Know the guy/girl who, if you mumble something to yourself, will keep asking, "What did you say?" This will nail that guy/girl at least once, maybe several times if they're a few old ladies short of a sewing circle and/or unbelievably gullible.
It only works if you have at least one accomplice. If "the mark" should leave the room for more than a minute (maybe less, it depends), explain the ruse to your accomplice(s) then...
Just as "the mark" returns, act like you’re just finishing the best joke in the world. It works even better if you can come up with a really weird punchline. My friends and I always worked off the "And, so I/he/she/random name said..." template, just to get an honest competition out of it. So, when "the mark" enters, be on the verge of breaking down in laughter and say something like...
"And, so I said, ‘If you think that’s a rodeo, Mister, you ain’t seen jack shit!’"
Then you and your accomplice(s) laugh like it’s the funniest thing since Lenny Bruce.
If all goes according to plan, "the mark" should want to hear the joke also. Whatever you do, make sure "the mark" is told something along the lines of, "Ah, you wouldn’t get it."
If "the mark" is of a certain personality, he/she will be driven to the brink of insanity until he/she hears the "joke." Surprisingly, it also works on "normal" people every now and again but you've gotta commit (and a large number of competently manipulative accomplices helps).
THANKS TO YOU, I HAD "DANCING QUEEN" STUCK IN MY HEAD THE WHOLE GODDAMN TIME!
My absolute favorite. Since I listen to a lot of random music and tend to associate with people who do the same, this always ends up being a very simple game.
It works well if you have a friend who hates, say, a particular genre of music that you happen to dig. I’ve found, however, that it works better if you happen to use a song that "the mark" likes.
I prefer to use 80's songs because, for some reason, people either really love or really hate 80's songs. Either way, it works for me.
Some songs I’ve used recently include...
Steve Winwood - "Higher Love" (From "Back in the High Life")
John Parr - "St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion)" (From the "St. Elmo’s Fire" Soundtrack)
Paul Simon - "You Can Call Me Al" (From "Graceland")
Huey Lewis - "The Power of Love" (From the "Back to the Future" Soundtrack)
Hall and Oates - "Private Eyes" (From "Private Eyes")
The H&O, particularly, is often devastating if "stuck" because you automatically want to go...
YOU
Private eyes!
(Clap!)
YOU
They're watching you!
(Clap! Clap!)
If you can, try to do it before someone does something fairly important, like work, school, a funeral, a quadruple bypass, etc.
The title of this bit comes from direct experience. A few years back, I caught a college buddy before an important business exam and sort of absent-mindedly sang some ABBA during lulls in the conversation. After the test, he walked in my dorm room, slammed the door, pointed a menacing finger at me, and said, with all the malice a person could possibly muster, "Thanks to you, I had ‘Dancing Queen’ stuck in my head the whole goddamn time!"
I also have friends who won’t hesitate to get cheap and paltry with this game. I draw the line at using commercial jingles or modern pop/country songs but, sadly, I have more than a handful of acquaintances with no such scruples.
One guy in particular (let’s call him "Bitchpants," because he would do this frequently) would whistle the Enzyte theme at inopportune times and also sang various McDonald’s jingles. Damn you, Bitchpaaaaaaaants!
Sunday, March 18, 2007
THE DEER COP CONVERSATION
I had this approximate (slightly embellished) conversation, one of the more random, pointless, and utterly stupid ones in recent memory, a few weeks back. I have no idea what made me think of it; I chuckled for a second then went, "Wait. That’s the stupidest crap I’ve ever heard." Then I kinda felt bad for even participating in such a thing.
The following conversation took place between the Rev. Jenner J. Hull and a friend (incidentally, the same one whose dog pissed on his ass) who we will refer to as, oh, how ‘bout "Marzipan."
I’ve known a "Jambalaya," a "Brown Eyes," and "A Girl Named Stanley." I even met a guy who insisted on being called either "Super Jew" or "Jewy." (I called him "Jewy," so I could be Han Solo.)
I’ve always really, really wanted a "Marzipan." And I don’t know why.
The discussion began when I was extolling the duties of the "shotgun" passenger while riding in my car...
REV. JENNER J. HULL
Your only job is "deer and cop watch." That’s it. That’s all you do. I watch the road, you watch for deer and cops. Deer, cop. Deer, cop.
MARZIPAN
Deer cop? Like, a deer that’s a cop?
RJJH
Well, that would be weird. And awkward. I’ve hit a deer. [In the car, of course.]
MARZIPAN
Me, too. Give a deer a badge and a gun and it’s all over, especially if he pulls you for speeding.
RJJH
Deer cop’s probably got a beer belly. And he’s gotta wear a little deer cop yarmulke since he can’t wear a regular Statie hat, on account of the antlers.
MARZIPAN
Unless it’s a doe cop.
RJJH
Oh, come on. We just got over the deer discrimination in general, it’ll take time before there are equal deer rights amongst the general deer population, much less the deer cops.
MARZIPAN
They’d probably be all pissy with everyone.
RJJH
Yeah. Deer cop says, [with an exaggerated southern drawl] "License and registration, human." And then he scowls and looks at you... [RJJH turns his head to the right, then the left, then the right, then the left.]
MARZIPAN
"You were goin’ awful fast there, boy. You know, my kind were here before your goddamn roads were. My yearlings play in that field right there."
RJJH
Deer cop’s checking out the I.D. and saying, "I see you got a gun rack, huh? Think that makes you a man? Hell, my grand-pappy gored some old redneck what lived down the road a ways and tore one of his damn nuts off; he didn’t need no gun."
MARZIPAN
Then deer cop leans in the window and goes, [sniffs twice] "Is that venison I smell, boy?"
RJJH
And you know PETA would love it. Until one of ‘em gets tasered by a deer cop.
Then I got to thinkin’ about other interesting anthropomorphic animal occupations...
Deers probably wouldn’t make good cops. Too skittish. Might as well make ‘em park rangers or other government employees in the Forestry or Agriculture departments.
Dogs would make better cops. They’re smart, fast, efficient, and, when called upon to be so, vicious as motherfuckers. Dogs from, say, Labs, Shepherds, and such up will be the beat cops and special units. Imagine a SWAT team of Neopolitan Mastiffs, Great Danes, and Irish Wolfhounds. Some of the smaller breeds, like your Poms and Miniature or Teacup whatnots, can do the detective and desk work. Of course, all the Dalmations would want to be firefighters...
Goats as trash collectors and in sanitation related public works is a must.
Whales, dolphins, and orcas as Coast Guard. Obviously.
Horses? Taxis.
Cats would be the artists. Not like they’d deign to do much of anything else.
REV. JENNER J. HULL
It’s a dead mole on my doormat.
CAT
You just don’t understand my art! Hiss!
Given the current political climate, we’d imagine people would only vote for weasels, skunks, or snakes. The Eagle Party would probably be a lock, too. (Stephen, Jr. in ‘08!)
Birds would run the post office; night mail from owls and bats. Larger parcel delivery would require mules, camels, and/or elephants. So, regular mail would be faster but interstate trucking would be slower and much, much shittier. Literally.
Bears as bouncers and doormen. When they say, "You’re not on the list," they mean that shit.
Raccoons would probably end up being thieves. They’ve got the costume down and tend to be one of the sneakier woodland creatures. The smart ones would smuggle themselves into jewelry stores on some rich old ladies’ fur coat. And don’t bring up Daniel Boone; they tend to get all bitey.
Spiders would still be disgusting, horrible things. Yes, I admit it. I’m an arachnid racist.
Possums as panhandlers. I can see the sign now; "Will Eat Garbage For Food."
Finally, kangaroos in the NBA. Sure, they can’t run the point or shoot that well, but put ‘em in the paint and watch ‘em shatter the single-season rebound and block records. And you know they’re gonna kick ass in the long jump.
"What of the otters," you ask? Well, they’re already running every world-wide conspiracy you can name. Others may be afraid to speak out against them, but we see through the cute.
Rumor has it that they’re even funding the McCain presidential bid...
The following conversation took place between the Rev. Jenner J. Hull and a friend (incidentally, the same one whose dog pissed on his ass) who we will refer to as, oh, how ‘bout "Marzipan."
I’ve known a "Jambalaya," a "Brown Eyes," and "A Girl Named Stanley." I even met a guy who insisted on being called either "Super Jew" or "Jewy." (I called him "Jewy," so I could be Han Solo.)
I’ve always really, really wanted a "Marzipan." And I don’t know why.
The discussion began when I was extolling the duties of the "shotgun" passenger while riding in my car...
REV. JENNER J. HULL
Your only job is "deer and cop watch." That’s it. That’s all you do. I watch the road, you watch for deer and cops. Deer, cop. Deer, cop.
MARZIPAN
Deer cop? Like, a deer that’s a cop?
RJJH
Well, that would be weird. And awkward. I’ve hit a deer. [In the car, of course.]
MARZIPAN
Me, too. Give a deer a badge and a gun and it’s all over, especially if he pulls you for speeding.
RJJH
Deer cop’s probably got a beer belly. And he’s gotta wear a little deer cop yarmulke since he can’t wear a regular Statie hat, on account of the antlers.
MARZIPAN
Unless it’s a doe cop.
RJJH
Oh, come on. We just got over the deer discrimination in general, it’ll take time before there are equal deer rights amongst the general deer population, much less the deer cops.
MARZIPAN
They’d probably be all pissy with everyone.
RJJH
Yeah. Deer cop says, [with an exaggerated southern drawl] "License and registration, human." And then he scowls and looks at you... [RJJH turns his head to the right, then the left, then the right, then the left.]
MARZIPAN
"You were goin’ awful fast there, boy. You know, my kind were here before your goddamn roads were. My yearlings play in that field right there."
RJJH
Deer cop’s checking out the I.D. and saying, "I see you got a gun rack, huh? Think that makes you a man? Hell, my grand-pappy gored some old redneck what lived down the road a ways and tore one of his damn nuts off; he didn’t need no gun."
MARZIPAN
Then deer cop leans in the window and goes, [sniffs twice] "Is that venison I smell, boy?"
RJJH
And you know PETA would love it. Until one of ‘em gets tasered by a deer cop.
Then I got to thinkin’ about other interesting anthropomorphic animal occupations...
Deers probably wouldn’t make good cops. Too skittish. Might as well make ‘em park rangers or other government employees in the Forestry or Agriculture departments.
Dogs would make better cops. They’re smart, fast, efficient, and, when called upon to be so, vicious as motherfuckers. Dogs from, say, Labs, Shepherds, and such up will be the beat cops and special units. Imagine a SWAT team of Neopolitan Mastiffs, Great Danes, and Irish Wolfhounds. Some of the smaller breeds, like your Poms and Miniature or Teacup whatnots, can do the detective and desk work. Of course, all the Dalmations would want to be firefighters...
Goats as trash collectors and in sanitation related public works is a must.
Whales, dolphins, and orcas as Coast Guard. Obviously.
Horses? Taxis.
Cats would be the artists. Not like they’d deign to do much of anything else.
REV. JENNER J. HULL
It’s a dead mole on my doormat.
CAT
You just don’t understand my art! Hiss!
Given the current political climate, we’d imagine people would only vote for weasels, skunks, or snakes. The Eagle Party would probably be a lock, too. (Stephen, Jr. in ‘08!)
Birds would run the post office; night mail from owls and bats. Larger parcel delivery would require mules, camels, and/or elephants. So, regular mail would be faster but interstate trucking would be slower and much, much shittier. Literally.
Bears as bouncers and doormen. When they say, "You’re not on the list," they mean that shit.
Raccoons would probably end up being thieves. They’ve got the costume down and tend to be one of the sneakier woodland creatures. The smart ones would smuggle themselves into jewelry stores on some rich old ladies’ fur coat. And don’t bring up Daniel Boone; they tend to get all bitey.
Spiders would still be disgusting, horrible things. Yes, I admit it. I’m an arachnid racist.
Possums as panhandlers. I can see the sign now; "Will Eat Garbage For Food."
Finally, kangaroos in the NBA. Sure, they can’t run the point or shoot that well, but put ‘em in the paint and watch ‘em shatter the single-season rebound and block records. And you know they’re gonna kick ass in the long jump.
"What of the otters," you ask? Well, they’re already running every world-wide conspiracy you can name. Others may be afraid to speak out against them, but we see through the cute.
Rumor has it that they’re even funding the McCain presidential bid...
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