Sunday, March 29, 2009

A Short Story

When my computer broke, I was forced into a neanderthal existence. Actually, it wasn't that extreme, but it allowed me to do some writing. Some of this writing, like what follows, should probably not be shared. At the risk of losing my millions of readers, I'm going for it. Film school killed a lot of my absurd creativity by forcing me to write things that could be easily produced on a shoestring budget. I used to write weird tales and poetry when I was younger, but I've essentially stopped. So here's a short story I wrote while my computer was being fixed.

House Call

I arrive at the doctor's manor, the semi-circle driveway enclosing a fountain long since overgrown with weeds. Birds no longer bathe in their designated bath, choosing rather to feed upon the worms in its soil. I ring the doorbell intercom and hear the gravelly voice of Dr. Tyrone McLouvrengradstein, a name of seemingly unrecognizable origin.
"Who is it?"
"Jonathan Kreplark," I reply, feeling simultaneously proud and demeaned at having to reveal my full appellation.
"Hold on," he says.
"Thank you," I offer, though the intercom has already signed off.
I look back to my Cadillac alongside the fountain, never wanting to appear too eager when about to be let into someone's home. Off in the distance, I hear a young girl scream. Instead of assuming the most probable scenario, that she is playing, I conjure up a rape case. The door opens before I can fully envision the assailant.
"Jonathan, my boy, I received your postcard from Myrtle Beach," he says as he envelops me in a hug.
"I'm glad you received it, sir. And please excuse the photograph of the scantly clad men; it was the only one they had left."
"I think to have rather enjoyed it," he winks.
Oh, you devil, you, I think to myself, remembering back to the racks upon racks of postcards available at the shop.
"Don't stand outside in the cold. Please come in," he says, pulling me inside. It is eighty degrees out, and a chill sixty inside. The grand entrance to the foyer is fairly standard: large spiraling staircase to the second floor, emerald-marbled columns, chandelier made of baby teeth.
We venture into the living room, which is called a den or study in a doctor's house, presumably because their extended educations grant them strange naming practices. It is not as if doctors actually watch cubs or cram for tests in this room. They live, like the rest of us, but as we are all inevitably headed towards death, they should more correctly be dubbed dying rooms. Perhaps the living room is referred to as such to serve as a place to forget about our imminent demise, usually with the aid of that soul-sucking idiot box, the radio. There is no radio in the doctor's den.
"Have a seat," he says, motioning to an overstuffed pink armchair, three times larger than average, with a gigantic baby's bottle on the cushion. "It's called the Big Chair. I saw it at a festival in Oslo, and knew I had to have it."
"I'm flattered, but may I just sit on the divan?"
"No!" he adds sternly, and I take my seat upon the Big Chair, resting the bottle on my lap, and feeling dwarfed and powerless against the doctor on his antique rocking horse. "How about a drink? Do you like brandy?"
"She had one good song in the '90s, but I wouldn't consider myself any more than a casual listener."
"Always the joker, Jonathan, that's what I like about you," he chortles as he slaps his massive knee, the reflex causing him to kick outward. Using the kick as a head start, he makes his way over to the wet bar, and produces two pint glasses. He drops an ice cube in each, unscrews the cap on a bottle of scotch (the tease), and pours the liquid onto the glassy stone with a satisfying crack. He adds a sprinkle of arsenic for flavor.
"To the start of a beautiful working relationship," he toasts, and we throw the drinks over our shoulders. We sit in silence for what seems like hours, but is really only four seconds.
"So tell me more about your fascinating research in the Andes," he says, running his bare ring finger along the rim of his glass.
"It's actually the Pyrenees. I have been studying the native tribe of..." I've been conducting my research for nine years now, and because it is so unorthodox, I am regularly asked to explain it. So much practice permits my mind to wander during my treatise. I watch the doctor nod his head in affirmation of every sentence, occasionally raising his goblet to his lips and returning it to his side whereupon he realizes it is empty. His hair is like salt and cinnamon, the old salt and pepper spice-to-hair analogy inadequate to describe fading chestnut hair. His face is salmon-colored and his ruddy nose is uncharacteristically shapely for a man his age. His eyes seem genial, watery, and hazel. As I picture his cheeks leaping out of a stream and into the waiting jowls of a Grizzly, I discover I am done with my dissertation. "And the women of the village continue to have difficulty urinating."
"Bewitching. Would you like to see my penguins?" the doctor inquires, putting me ill at ease now that I've finally begun to relax.
"Yes," I say, not wanting to sound rude, or even worse, unintelligent. We scientists never say, "I guess," preferring "I hypothesize," or when we have a great deal of evidence, possibly "I theorize," but never "I guess." "I guess" is for the buffoon.
He leads me into a hidden room behind the revolving bookshelf. The room appears just like the den, with the sole exception that it is inhabited completely by stuffed penguins. The most enormous penguin I've ever seen rests upon the Big Chair.
"Aren't they gorgeous?" he fishes for compliments.
"Quite. What is that one?" I ask, pointing to a relatively odd-looking penguin on the mantelpiece.
"Come, have a look," he says. "This is the jewel of my collection, an erect-crested penguin, known for its distinctive crests of yellow feathers.
I nod, but not seeing an ochre crown, I press on. "And where are this one's crests?"
"I murdered all these penguins myself, and the only clear shot I could get at this one was to the head. I had the taxidermist replace it with the head of a bat. He's a fine taxidermist. If you would like, I can give you his name."
"That's perfectly alright," I respond, abhorring interspecies creations, preferring only the most classic forms of taxidermy.
We walk over to another penguin, this one wearing a small pope's hat. "I call this one Melchizedek, after the first priest of the Most High," implying that I know nothing of the history of the Abrahamic religions.
"I understand the reference, Doctor," I lie through the gap in my teeth, as I have no knowledge of the history of the Abrahamic religions. I am a scientist for Darwin's sake.
"Perhaps you would like to see my ancient Egyptian bicycle helmets," the doctor persists.
"Listen, Doctor, you can continue to dazzle me with your pious penguins, and your big chairs, and your baby teeth chandeliers, or we can get down to brass tacks."
"I have a fabulous assortment of brass tacks from the Qin Dynasty-- I'm joshing you," he cuts it short, noticing my distemper with the word fabulous. "Let's go to my laboratory." He accents each syllable in a sinister fashion, but I've seen enough pornographic monster movies to not be alarmed.
We proceed through the revolving bookcase, and I take note of the book that is used: The Nanny Diaries, a somewhat obvious choice amongst the throngs of medical journals and art-fag magazines.
We pass through the kitchen, which is immaculate, save for an open microwave, glowing amber and caked with the radiated drippings of TV dinners. But are they still TV dinners if you don't watch the television whilst dining, preferring rather to stare into a mirror, not in vain, but to overly assess one's flawed, disgusting eating habits?
"Here we are," he pronounces as we arrive at a white door clearly marked "Laboratory." The acrid smell of smoke burns my nostrils. "Please, guests first." He opens the door, which reveals a stairway into the basement. It is completely dark. "It's straight down. Don't worry. There's a light at the bottom. I've still got to call the electrician to rig up the switch."
I nod, and embark downward. My footing is at best, unsure, but my camping experience as a Boy Scout and past life as a seeing-eye dog find me hitting the floor within twelve minutes. "Pull the string near your your nose," calls the doctor, sounding incredibly far away, as if only a memory. I find the tiny cord tickling my proboscis, and pull, materializing another door in front of me and a three-step ascent to my rear.
The doctor hops swiftly down the steps and inserts a key into the door. "What you are about to see may be very frightening, but I assure you, you are in no harm."
My eyes blink rapidly, the terror palpable on my face. "I'm ready," I muster meekly.
"Suit yourself," he says matter-of-factly, and turns the key in the knob.
KITTENS! There are hundreds of kittens, in every color permutation imaginable, climbing over each other, preening themselves, meowing, purring. "What do you do with all these kittens?!?" I yell excitedly, running out into the center of the room, careful not to step on any paws.
"Oh, different things," says the doctor nonchalantly. "I feed them, brush them, teach them how to use email."
"Incredible," I accede, looking down at the California Spangled brushing against my shin.
"Have sex with them," the doctor half-mumbles.
"What?" I can't believe my ears. Maybe a kitten meowed over him saying, "Have Chex with them." A common mistake.
"I fuck these kittens."
"You're sick!" I scream. "You're coming with me!" I shout, vowing to save these kittens from lives of sexual slavery and messages claiming they've won the UK lottery. I begin picking up as many as I can, stuffing handful after handful of tiny cats down my shirt and pants.
"Kittens attack!" yells Dr. McLouvrengradstein over the meowing din. The cats in my clothes begin viciously clawing and biting at any piece of flesh within paw's length. I feel my genitals burst open and my tendons snap. The only thing keeping me upright is the thriving mass of fur, slicing my body to ribbons.
"Retreat!" orders the doctor, and the cats immediately cease, leaping off of me and landing nimbly as only cats can. I fall to the ground, quivering in agony. Through blurry eyes, I watch a Cornish Rex daintily lick my blood from its hairless paws.
"I'd never have sex with a cat, you fool," condemns the doctor, a kitten pacing across his broad shoulders. "I like penguins, you know that."
I feel so asinine. Of course, he fucks penguins. He fucks penguins and then stuffs them for his penguin room. A pitiful "Why me?" is all I can manage.
"Your research, naturally. I've been trying for years to end your meddling in the urinary habits of those villagers. I'm afraid the only way was to kill you."
"I'm not dead yet," I stupidly ejaculate. Comprehending my mistake, I brace my shredded chassis for another feline onslaught.
"You are. You're dead inside. You've felt that way ever since you lost the first grade spelling bee to Judy Sommers."
"You're right," I screech, and the pain courses through my veins and out onto the concrete floor with the rest of my lifeblood.
"You probably have about fourteen seconds or so more to live. Do you have any last words?"
"The Nanny Diaries was a surprisingly entertaining read," I croak.
"Oh, no. What have I done?" The doctor crawls over to my body, scooping up armloads of tattered organs and muscles, and feebly puts them back into my torso the way you'd stuff ice cream into a cone. A doctor, of all people, should know it doesn't work that way.
I die, and Judy Sommers is still a cunt. C-U-N-T.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

The Inability to Do Anything

If you know me personally, you probably know that I cannot stand the neighbors directly below me.  They play extremely loud music and yell constantly.  When I say constantly, I mean from about 9 am to 3 am every single day.  I've pretty much figured out that I live above the children's room, as I hear the older residents scream things like "Shut the fuck up!" to crying kids beneath my feet.  They have to scream this over the blasting music, and the kids don't generally stop crying until after a succession of slamming and banging noises.  Most of the tenants in the apartment use drugs.

I've called 311 literally over 30 times for noise complaints, and contacted the landlord to no avail.  As the sounds of child abuse/neglect have increased dramatically over the past few days, I decided to call Child Protection Services.  After explaining to the operator what I have just told you, including the sentence "Don't make me go behind the couch and get the machete," which I heard one night, the woman on the phone informed me that nothing could be done.  If a case is already open on the family, my report will be added to it.  I told her that I can't see through the floor, but I'm very concerned, and she said unless I see the parents "selling drugs in front of the children or getting so high that they can't take care of them," they can't do anything just because I've heard this.  "What can I do to help get an investigation going because I truly believe the children are being abused and neglected?" I question.  "You have to have evidence of neglect.  Are the children dirty?  Do they smell?" she responds.  Sorry, I just figured a threat with a two-foot blade would've been enough to open a case, but I guess they have to smell bad first.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Library Music

I went to the library today, and signed out some CDs.  This was one I did not sign out: 
Never mind the questionable appropriateness of the word "Oriental."  I assume this is one of those discs of relaxing instrumentals, but the cover image seems to negate this.  Perhaps it could have been titled Music to Oppress Women By?

Thursday, March 26, 2009


My computer was out of commission for a week, and I've been fairly busy.  I'll be returning soon with music updates, a short story, and probably more Kid Nation.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Skid Nation


By all reasoning, I should've stopped watching Kid Nation after three episodes. But I kept at it because I saw a clip of this episode on YouTube. If this one ends up sucking, I may be done with the denizens of Bonanza City.

First Part

Day 20. The kids are halfway through their quest to build a nation. Divad decides to be a budding capitalist, opening a snack bar with food she has taken from the kitchen. Free canned apples from the kitchen now cost 5 cents. But they come with a stick! Jared says he's going to compete against her, and the anti-semitic Asian girl goes off on him. "Bill Gates has so much money. He made Microsoft. No one complained about that." I'm not sure where she's going with this. "Divad has the entire snacking monopoly," claims Jared, the trustbuster. Fuck yeah! He just wrecked Divad's snack stand. The Asian girl acts like Jared just burned Divad's house down. Divad can make more snacks though, and sweeps up the mess. Stop watching the clip there.

That stupid whore Sophia tries to sell Mallory a jaw harp full-price. The book says the original settlers found gold in a mine. A treasure map is included. Laurel doesn't want them to go because people will get greedy. Bitch, you're telling me you wouldn't follow a treasure map if you found one? The Goonies this is not. "Let's hope we don't end up like the Donner Party, eating our own people," suggests Anjay. Fucking weirdo.

Go back to the clip. Divad waits for Jared to come talk to her. What? He's the bad one? She stole food from the kitchen and started selling it. This is pissing me off. Stop watching when they hug. I might.

The leaders reach the abandoned mine. It's cool-looking at least. Wanna see how much smarter the older kids are? Fucking fourteen-year-old Sophia comes up with a genius plan to solve the town's money problems. Let's waste even more food by mixing a bunch of stuff together to look gross and then put money at the bottom. The bat is in the cave. And a treasure chest. Wow, 375 nickels. "We could double everyone's pay," suggests Guylan. Anjay counters, "That's not what we should do. Greed is the root of all evil. This is $18.50 worth of greed." Hold on, retard. It's $18.75 worth of greed. That's really not that much greed. What is he worried about? Too many jaw harps in the town? "I think that choice is important in a democracy, but I think it's important that the smarter people make the choice," says Yellow leader, Zach. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. The council buys baseball bats and musical instruments for the town. "I don't play baseball." "You're a nerd." Kids suck. Nathan, 11, is concerned about the laundry. He's wearing like a WWII pilot's jacket, so he must not have many clothes left. Laurel tells him to lighten up. "Is there something we don't know about you? Do you have a deep, dark secret?" Nathan slowly looks up. "I was a fighter pilot in Korea, and my plane was shot down. I blacked out and the next thing I knew, I woke up in a town run by forty stupid kids." Actually, no. "My mother home-schools us." Bingo! I told you. Kids with no friends. He asks the older kids to help him with water. "Look at the damn dishes," says the asshole, Greg. Nathan helps out, scouring a pan, and gets scolded by Greg. Greg's dishwashing method? "Dip it in the water, then it's clean." Greg decides to be a bully and makes Nathan cry. I bet he goes home. He says he won't though.

What? The guys even wash the girls' laundry? Little Alex seems very excited to scrub away at a pair of panties. Pharaoh, 12, is a great dishwasher. Divad gloats that she is the richest person in Bonanza. "What's that on your face?" someone asks, pointing to the large brown mark on her cheek. "I got splattered on the face with oil, but a little grease won't stop me," she responds.

Showdown, fools. "This showdown is about collecting golden eggs," says Karsh. "What?" says Laurel. I'm with her. What the hell is this about? They have to slingshot eggs over a wall and catch them on the opposite side. They are real eggs though. If four dozen eggs total are caught, a reward will be given. All the kids have goggles on to protect them from the eggs. Red is sucking eggs. Blue is rocking it 'cause they figured out how to use hand signals. Green just got its first egg. Time's up. They probably only have like 4 eggs total. 5 for Red. 6 for Green. 18 for Yellow. Blue needs 19 eggs to win the town the prize. They open their box, which has a lot of eggs.

Alex Screams

38 eggs for Blue! Let's see the reward. "This reward is about money laundering." I do not know anything about no money laundering. Choice 1: coin-operated washing machines for 20 cents a load. Or a new pair of clothes for each person and 4 free hand-crank washers. New clothes. It's fucking easy. They've already gone halfway with one pair. Who knew kids were so concerned about laundry? They decided to go with the new clothes. That wasn't even a choice. Jared better kill somebody soon or I'm gonna stop watching this bullshit.

I may get my wish. Go back to the first clip. "This magnifying glass is focusing the light into a small pinpoint," says Jared froggily. He's trying to burn stuff. And what better a spot than on the steps of a town building. He's selling necklaces for 10 cents. And selling a lot of them. "Holy banana bread!" he shouts, $2.90 richer. He buys long underwear and some shoes. "I'm the Bill Gates of Bonanza City people are saying." Generic funk music plays as he pimp-struts trough the town.

Pharaoh wants the gold star because he has a single mom who can't pay her bills. "That sucks," says Zach. What sucks is that she decided to send her kid off to the desert to make her $5000. "To be honest, I think that I need the money more than any of the kids in Bonanza." What you need is a new mom. Guylan finds Nathan washing clothes in the middle of the night, repeatedly saying it needs to be done. Guylan orders him to bed, where Greg apologizes to him. Will Nathan get the star? Divad thinks she's gonna win. She's making signs to promote herself. Doesn't she know what happens to posters in this town? Now she's passing out snacks to people in line before they make their nominations. It reminds me of this time I was in college when the fire alarm went off in the dorm. When I got outside, there was no smoke or anything, and there was a girl outside handing out cookies. "Make sure you vote for me in the dorm elections," she said. I ate her cookies, but I didn't vote. I don't even know what dorm elections are.

In a surprise move, Jared votes for Divad. In a non-surprise move Divad votes for Divad. Greg nominates Nathan, which makes the council members smirk. It's now between Nathan and Pharaoh, the latter of which only started working once he found out the gold star was worth $20,000. Everyone in the town, even Sophia, thinks the council has done a good job. "There are some people in town who just fry potatoes," says Greg. "I don't just fry potatoes," says Divad, her face scarred from constantly frying potatoes. Is anyone going home? Nope. It's too easy to live there when you don't have any friends. Who's gonna win? Close-ups of Pharaoh, Nathan, and Divad. Nathan! Suck it, Pharaoh. Start washing clothes at night if you want a gold star for your broke-ass mama. Nathan tells his mom he can use the money for college, boarding school, or candy. I've never thought of boarding school as a good thing, but maybe he should look into getting out of his house so he doesn't end up so damn weird. Divad: "I do just as much work as Nathan. Do I have to drag them to my workplace?" No, we've all seen the frying pan, thanks.

Okay, so I'm gonna lay it out here like Jonathan Karsh would. You have a choice. I can stop blogging about Kid Nation, or I can watch the rest of the season. I have comments enabled, so let me know your thoughts. There is a talent show, and I think Jared wears a dress. Discuss.

Role-Playing (Part Two)

After an unorthodox date at  and a trip to my aunt's funeral, you'd think someone would be done with me.  But wouldn't you know it?  She IMed me again on December 20, 2007.  I suppose my cyber-abstinence is pretty exciting.

her (7:49:29 PM): hi 23/f here and single do you want to chat

me (8:15:26 PM): hi

her (8:24:37 PM): hi

her (8:25:27 PM): how are you?

me (8:32:50 PM): ok

her (8:33:09 PM): do you want to role play it's a fun getting to know you type thing

me (8:33:57 PM): um, dont you remember, we went to olive garden together

her (8:34:06 PM): no

me (8:34:27 PM): really?  cause i had a wonderful time

her (8:34:27 PM): do you want to role play again i will do most of it

her (8:34:43 PM): do you want to role play again i will do most of it

me (8:35:16 PM): ok

her (8:35:25 PM): you want me to start or you

me (8:35:36 PM): you, you said youd do most

her (8:36:17 PM): lets say we are at the olive garden again and its just you and I and we are waiting for a booth and we are sitting in the bar area and Sharon is at my parents house and i'm 7 months pregnant and you

me (8:36:56 PM): ask who sharon is

her (8:37:09 PM): my daughter from a previous relationship

me (8:37:57 PM): tell you to get an abortion

her (8:38:16 PM): no

me (8:38:53 PM): ok, then id ask what youre doing at a bar being 7 months pregnant

her (8:39:05 PM): i can have a water with you

me (8:39:42 PM): ok, im having scotch though

me (8:39:52 PM): so i ask you who the father is

her (8:42:44 PM): an ex boyfriend

her (8:42:58 PM): and i start sipping my soda and you wrap your arms around me and you

me (8:43:35 PM): say my, youve gotten bigger

her (8:43:49 PM): and i lean back and you

me (8:44:40 PM): say, let's get out of here, tomato sauce isnt good for the baby

her (8:44:54 PM): where are we going to go

me (8:45:21 PM): the clinic... just kidding.

me (8:45:28 PM): how about the boardwalk?

her (8:45:46 PM): we leave the bar and we arrive on the boardwalk and you

me (8:46:49 PM): ask if you would like some cotton candy

her (8:46:59 PM): i would love some

me (8:47:08 PM): ok, which color

her (8:47:09 PM): and we get in the line to order some and you

her (8:47:14 PM): pink please

me (8:47:48 PM): ok, i wait, and check my wallet to make sure i have the cash, times have been hard as a roach exterminator

me (8:48:02 PM): i have the cash, i pay, and give you it

her (8:48:07 PM): thank you

me (8:48:32 PM): i say ooh, look a name on rice booth

her (8:48:37 PM): and i start eating some and i feed you some and you

me (8:48:54 PM): freak out because im diabetic

her (8:49:05 PM): oh i didn't mean to

her (8:49:13 PM): i meant to give you a kiss

me (8:49:43 PM): i tell you to grab the insulin syringe from my left pocket

her (8:49:57 PM): why

me (8:50:06 PM): because im in a diabetic shock

her (8:50:26 PM): you become fine and i kiss you and you

me (8:50:55 PM): ask why you did that

her (8:51:10 PM): to thank you for a wonderful night so far

her (8:51:21 PM): and we sit down on a bench to watch the fireworks and you

me (8:52:01 PM): ask why there are fireworks

her (8:52:11 PM): it's a special night

her (8:52:14 PM): in town

her (8:53:08 PM): it's a town festival night

me (8:53:24 PM): oh

her (8:54:05 PM): i lean into your arms and you

me (8:54:40 PM): hug you really hard in attempts to crush the child

her (8:54:45 PM): no

her (8:54:54 PM): not hurting the child

her (8:55:18 PM): the fireworks end and you

me (8:55:36 PM): say my, that was exciting.  how about we go on the rides?

her (8:55:48 PM): i would love to

her (8:56:03 PM): and you can see that i'm a little cold first and you

me (8:58:29 PM): give you my sweater, we get on the roller coaster and it shakes the shit out of your baby.

her (8:59:04 PM): give more details

her (8:59:11 PM): we get off the roller coaster and you

me (9:00:04 PM): explain to you that babies are fragile in the womb and you likely severed his spinal cord

her (9:00:32 PM): and we walk over to a boat ride and you


her (9:02:11 PM): yes but it's not

her (9:03:17 PM): keep going

me (9:03:29 PM): ok, let's get in the boat then, you first

her (9:03:47 PM): we are on the boat and we find a seat and you

me (9:05:15 PM): say, my what a night

her (9:05:25 PM): what do you mean

me (9:06:57 PM): it's just been exciting, scotch, cotton candy, boat rides, it's like everything a clown does to seduce an unsuspecting toddler

me (9:07:11 PM): then i tell you that i moonlight as a clown

her (9:07:33 PM): and the boat starts moving and you lean closer to me and you

me (9:08:38 PM): ask if you love me even though im a clown

her (9:08:44 PM): yes

her (9:08:59 PM): keep going

me (9:09:04 PM): thats sweet

me (9:09:18 PM): then i ask you if you like cheerios

her (9:09:33 PM): yes why

me (9:09:58 PM): because i love them too, maybe it's a sign

her (9:10:34 PM): we start looking out the boat window and you are behind me and you

me (9:11:41 PM): notice a piece of fuzz in your hair

her (9:11:49 PM): keep going

her (9:11:56 PM): give more details

me (9:12:52 PM): the fuzz looks like it is a mixture of human hair, cat hair, and grey coat dander, perhaps with a slight bit of cheese to act as a conglomerate

her (9:13:20 PM): you take it out of my hair and i lean back into your arms again and you

me (9:13:48 PM): get a phone call

me (9:13:57 PM): i say excuse me, should i answer this

her (9:14:04 PM): who is it

me (9:14:16 PM): my gay cousin peter

her (9:14:20 PM): no

her (9:14:23 PM): you are on a date

me (9:14:51 PM): but he's probably going to try to kill himself again

me (9:15:02 PM): maybe you can help me talk him thru it

her (9:15:05 PM): no

her (9:15:08 PM): don't answer it

me (9:15:42 PM): but he could die!

her (9:15:55 PM): lets not say you get a phone call

me (9:16:54 PM): i pick it up anyway, he just wanted to see if i could tape "house" for him, i tell him, i cant, im on a date

her (9:17:10 PM): ok you are off the phone and you

me (9:18:02 PM): say that was my gay cousin peter, he probably wouldnt like the fact that im dating a pregnant woman whose child isnt mine

her (9:18:16 PM): how do you feel about it

me (9:19:16 PM): i still think it's a little weird, but it's been hard for me since i became a widow

her (9:20:05 PM): we get off the boat and i say i have to go let my sitter go home it's getting late and i say you are welcome to come over and you

me (9:20:44 PM): say isnt sharon at your mothers place

her (9:20:52 PM): no

her (9:21:08 PM): she is with a babysitter

me (9:22:06 PM): i say okay, but dont ever lie to me again

her (9:22:32 PM): ok

me (9:24:00 PM): so lets go back to your place then

me (9:24:07 PM): i ask how old sharon is

her (9:24:12 PM): 3

me (9:24:36 PM): you get around, dont you?

her (9:24:46 PM): yes

her (9:24:59 PM): we are at my house and sharon is alsleep on the couch and you

me (9:25:10 PM): say maybe we should put her to sleep

me (9:26:41 PM): do you agree?

her (9:26:45 PM): yes

me (9:26:52 PM): no, i mean like euthanize her

her (9:27:06 PM): we take her to her bed and you

me (9:27:31 PM): say my her bed looks comfy

her (9:27:53 PM): and i say do you want to snuggle with her and me

me (9:28:47 PM): i dont know, that seems a little dangerous

her (9:29:00 PM): it's up to you

me (9:30:30 PM): i'll pass, we leave her in her room

her (9:30:45 PM): and i say what would you like to do

me (9:31:34 PM): i ask if you have any snapple

her (9:31:57 PM): of course but first can i give you a massage

me (9:32:43 PM): actually i would like the snapple first

her (9:33:01 PM): ok i give you the snapple and you

me (9:34:11 PM): open it and read you the snapple fact

me (9:34:35 PM): snapple fact #37: pregnant women begin lactating about 7 months into pregnancy.

me (9:34:42 PM): i ask if it's true

her (9:35:23 PM): no

me (9:36:50 PM): weird, snapple's usually right on these things

me (9:37:11 PM): i dont trust it and push the bottle aside, not drinking it

her (9:37:28 PM): keep going

me (9:38:23 PM): i ask you what you want to do

her (9:38:32 PM): anything with you

me (9:39:08 PM): i ask if we can sing a song together

her (9:39:15 PM): sure

her (9:39:17 PM): what song

me (9:39:34 PM): but heres the catch, you have to sing the mans part, and i have to sing the womans

her (9:39:52 PM): ok can i add something to that

me (9:40:08 PM): whats that

her (9:40:25 PM): you have to wear only your boxers, and i will be wearing just my bra and underwear

her (9:40:59 PM): how does that sound

me (9:41:32 PM): i dont wear boxers

me (9:41:48 PM): the song is "you're the one that i want" from grease though

her (9:41:55 PM): ok

her (9:44:07 PM): we sing the song and you

me (9:44:08 PM): "tell me about it stud"

me (9:44:16 PM): sorry, i was singing

her (9:44:24 PM): it's fine

me (9:45:05 PM): so we finish, and i say that was fun, i love grease

me (9:45:15 PM): do you have any grease in your home

her (9:48:44 PM): yes

her (9:48:56 PM): can i have a massage i ask

me (9:50:55 PM): i ask what kind you want

her (9:54:12 PM): what are your best ones you give

me (9:54:39 PM): teeth, ear, and nose

her (9:54:44 PM): no

me (9:55:17 PM): nose?

her (9:58:07 PM): no

her (9:58:16 PM): how about a full body massage

me (9:59:40 PM): ok, but only the teeth, nose, and ears will feel good

her (9:59:49 PM): no

me (10:00:12 PM): it's not my fault, im not a masseuse

me (10:00:21 PM): im a roach-killing clown

her (10:00:24 PM): no

her (10:00:31 PM): we are on the bed and you

me (10:01:05 PM): ask where you bought your sheets

her (10:01:18 PM): target

her (10:01:26 PM): and we move closer on the bed and you

me (10:02:01 PM): say that i bought soap at target once

me (10:03:01 PM): then i fart

me (10:03:08 PM): i say excuse me, it must be the scotch

her (10:03:28 PM): no

me (10:04:33 PM): you wont excuse me?  i'll get up and leave

her (10:04:45 PM): i was joking

me (10:05:10 PM): oh, sorry, im a clown, im sensitive

me (10:07:55 PM): so im on the bed, trying not to gag from my fart and you

me (10:15:13 PM): sorry, but you bore me.  i'm gonna go jerk off to a non-pregnant woman who will show me her picture.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Happiest Day of Life

Today is the one-year anniversary of the happiest day of my life (thus far).  I did a Google image search to see what kind of pictures symbolized the happiest days of people's lives.  Weddings, newborn babies, sports victories, recently caught fish.  And yet, on mine, I didn't get married, I didn't become a father, I didn't win the game at the buzzer, and I didn't reel in a massive carp.  This was someone's though:

Friday, March 13, 2009

Role-Playing (Part One)

I used to have my AIM screen name on my MySpace page.  Not anymore.  Why?  'Cause this kind of stuff would happen.  Although looking back, this is pretty hilarious, so maybe I should put it up again.

Here's a little background and then we'll get right into it.  This was an AIM conversation I had with a stranger on December 9, 2007.  She wanted to sexually role-play, so I decided I'd try to keep it as far away from sex as possible.  The only things that have been changed are spelling mistakes (for an easier read) and the names (to protect the innocent).

her (6:35:55 PM): do you want to role play i will do most of it?

me (6:36:22 PM): i did not even receive your picture

her (6:36:34 PM): I know

her (6:36:39 PM):  i will try again shortly

her (6:36:51 PM): i'm doing a few things with my camera right now

her (6:44:53 PM): well

her (6:45:02 PM): do you want to role play i will do most of it?

me (6:46:37 PM): um, i suppose, im kind of busy

her (6:47:46 PM): lets say we are co-workers and i'm at my desk and you walk over to me and you

me (6:55:11 PM): i'm at your desk

her (6:55:20 PM): and

me (6:56:37 PM): where do we work

her (6:56:43 PM): a school

me (6:57:17 PM): i say, miss _____, perhaps we could not talk in front of the students

her (6:57:28 PM): ok

her (6:57:36 PM): i say do u want to set up a meeting

me (7:01:46 PM): yes

her (7:01:56 PM): what is the best for you

her (7:03:30 PM): how about 5pm tonight at the Olive Garden

me (7:05:38 PM): ok, they have good breadsticks

her (7:05:43 PM): i know

her (7:05:47 PM): i will meet you there

her (7:05:52 PM): and its almost 5pm and you

me (7:06:09 PM): drive to olive garden

her (7:06:43 PM): i'm waiting outside on a bench and you walk over to me and i have a buzzer in my hand waiting for our table and you

me (7:07:09 PM): say how long is the wait

her (7:07:15 PM): 10-15 minutes

me (7:07:29 PM): oh, thats not long at all

her (7:07:42 PM): you sit down on the bench next to me and you

me (7:07:57 PM): ask how your day was

her (7:08:09 PM): it was alright

me (7:08:22 PM): yeah, same here

her (7:08:35 PM): you move closer to me

her (7:08:38 PM): and you

me (7:08:55 PM): reach for the buzzer

her (7:09:01 PM): why

me (7:11:24 PM): cause it's gonna buzz

her (7:12:45 PM): and it doesn't and you

me (7:13:14 PM): say i guess our tables not ready yet

her (7:13:21 PM): i guess not and you

me (7:14:06 PM): say i'm really hungry

her (7:14:23 PM): same here and then it goes off and we are at the table and we get the breadsticks and you

me (7:15:22 PM): offer you one first cause im a gentleman

her (7:17:00 PM): thank you

me (7:17:58 PM): then i get one for me and i get butter on my hand

her (7:18:21 PM):  i start crying and you

me (7:19:54 PM): ask why youre crying, we're at the most wonderful place on earth

her (7:20:50 PM): because i dont know how to thank you for this beautiful night

me (7:21:45 PM): it's truly no problem, honestly, i couldve taken you to a real italian place

her (7:21:56 PM): what do you mean?

me (7:22:59 PM): i mean olive garden is a chain

me (7:23:16 PM): we probably wouldve had to wait longer at another place though

her (7:23:23 PM): oh ok

me (7:23:34 PM): and the pasta bowl is never ending so we can stay as long as we like

her (7:23:56 PM): and you notice my bra straps are showing and you

me (7:25:33 PM): pretend i dont notice

her (7:25:46 PM): and i look away and you notice and you

me (7:27:35 PM): check to see if my underwear is showing

her (7:27:50 PM): and you see that also and i move closer to you and you

me (7:28:49 PM): ask if you want to sit on my side of the booth

her (7:29:07 PM): i will sit wherever you me me to sit

her (7:29:38 PM): our booth is ready and we get to the booth and its a circular shape and we are both in the very middle of the booth and you

me (7:31:32 PM): ask where the bathroom is

her (7:31:46 PM): they point you towards the bathroom and you

me (7:32:29 PM): say excuse me for a bit, i have to use the restroom to wash the butter off my hands

her (7:32:45 PM): you get to the restroom and you

me (7:33:46 PM): wash the butter off my hands and

me (7:33:55 PM): realize i need to pee

her (7:34:14 PM): and then you notice a flower shop next door when you come out of the bathroom and you

me (7:35:09 PM): realize i forgot to wash my hands and go back in the bathroom

her (7:35:33 PM): and you come back and i'm eating a breadstick and you

me (7:36:04 PM): say, oh, i thought we we're gonna split those evenly

me (7:36:23 PM): and theres a flower shop next door, remind me to stop there on the way out, my aunt just died

her (7:36:49 PM): im so sorry and i let you lean against me and you

me (7:38:12 PM): oblige, but still a little angry about the breadsticks, and ask if you'll ask for more

her (7:38:33 PM): of course and then i feed you the one i started and you

me (7:39:16 PM): chew it up and swallow it, and then i start crying because my aunt used to feed me like that

her (7:39:56 PM): i wrap my arms around you and i say do you want  to just have a few drinks and head out or its up to you

me (7:40:47 PM): and i tell you no, i came here for spaghetti so i'm gonna eat spaghetti, and i dont drink, but will enjoy a cranberry lemonade

her (7:41:33 PM): and we finish our meal and we head to the flower shop and then we head to the funeral home for your aunts wake and you

me (7:43:14 PM): say, everybody, this is ____, my co-worker at the school, she teaches the retarded kids

her (7:43:39 PM): someone asks you privately if she is your girlfriend

me (7:44:13 PM): i say, well, we went on our first date tonight, so no, but perhaps eventually

her (7:44:35 PM): and i go up to say a prayer and you

me (7:45:19 PM): respect your prayer, so i look away

her (7:45:35 PM): and i finish my prayer and move towards you and you

me (7:47:39 PM): say i think my famiy wants me to be here, but i dont think i can look at her corpse much longer

me (7:47:47 PM): do you want to leave

her (7:47:55 PM): its up to you

me (7:48:17 PM): i tell everyone im going to take you home, so the blame is sort of on you

me (7:48:25 PM): and we get outside

her (7:48:43 PM): and i say i'm going to drive and i take the keys from you and you

me (7:49:06 PM): ask why

her (7:49:24 PM): because i don't want you crying like this while driving

me (7:49:46 PM): i thank you, and stop crying because im terrified when someone else drives

her (7:50:09 PM): we are in the car and i buckle up and i start the car and you

“her” is away from the computer as of 7:51:37 PM.

me (7:52:13 PM): ask why you went away

“her” is back at the computer as of 7:52:20 PM.

her (7:52:31 PM): sorry im back

her (7:52:37 PM): we are in the car and you

me (7:52:46 PM): ask where we're going

her (7:52:52 PM): anywhere you want to go

me (7:53:23 PM): i need some gas, let's stop for gas

her (7:53:35 PM): i'm driving my car it has gas

me (7:53:45 PM): why did i have your keys

her (7:54:02 PM): because you drove to the funeral home because i didn't know how to get there

me (7:54:09 PM): ok

me (7:54:39 PM): so we should probably go to olive garden parking lot to get my car?  unless that is you wanna go somewhere else

her (7:54:49 PM): its up to you

her (7:54:57 PM): do you need a friend to lean on

her (7:55:36 PM): i take you to my apartment and we go inside and you

me (7:56:01 PM): ask where you bathroom is so i can make my face not look like ive been crying

her (7:56:21 PM): its right upstairs can i help you freshen up

me (7:56:42 PM): i dont know, do you have a myspace profile i can look at

her (7:56:52 PM): *i will brb i have to go do somethings around my house for real*

her (7:56:54 PM): NO

NOTE: Boring part removed where she left, and then unsuccessfully attempted to send a photo.

her (8:24:50 PM): can we cont. the role play

her (8:25:02 PM): we are at my apartment and we are in the living room and you

me (8:25:22 PM): say thats a nice african mask you have on the wall

her (8:25:39 PM): thank you

her (8:25:48 PM): and we are on the couch and you

me (8:26:18 PM): ask if i can tell you a secret

her (8:26:23 PM): sure

me (8:26:40 PM): i was molested by my uncle as a little boy

me (8:26:58 PM): and now that his wife is dead, i dont know what to do

her (8:27:40 PM): you should report this to the police

me (8:28:37 PM): but he's old, and now he's lost his wife, plus im afraid

her (8:29:14 PM): you need to report this

me (8:30:28 PM): im too embarrassed

me (8:30:42 PM): can we not talk about it anymore, i just had to tell you

her (8:30:48 PM): of course

her (8:31:10 PM): we are on my living room couch and you move closer to me and my blouse is unbuttoned and you

me (8:31:57 PM): tell you your blouse is unbuttoned

her (8:32:07 PM): i say do u like it

me (8:32:31 PM): yes, it's a very lovely blouse, but the buttons are sub-par

her (8:32:54 PM): we are in each others arms and you

me (8:33:46 PM): ask you if you would like to dance

her (8:33:53 PM): sure

me (8:34:03 PM): what music do you have

her (8:34:14 PM): you walk over to the music cds and you

her (8:36:20 PM): well

me (8:36:34 PM): im still deciding between megadeth and slayer

me (8:36:41 PM): slayer

me (8:36:49 PM): i put the cd in

her (8:36:53 PM): and

me (8:38:22 PM): press play

her (8:38:36 PM): and i'm on the couch still and you

me (8:39:18 PM): say get up off your ass, slayer is on

her (8:39:35 PM):  i say i thought you were going to help me up

me (8:39:53 PM): ok, i try

me (8:40:06 PM): but you're too heavy

her (8:40:43 PM): we are on our feet and you

me (8:40:55 PM): slamdance

her (8:41:02 PM): keep going

me (8:41:23 PM): im headbanging, my hair is flying all around

her (8:42:31 PM): keep going

me (8:42:52 PM): the song ends, im out of breath

her (8:44:04 PM): keep going

me (8:44:37 PM): i ask if you have some water

her (8:45:10 PM): of course i get you some water and you

me (8:45:35 PM): drink it, spilling some on my shirt

me (8:45:48 PM): i say, oh, what a silly goose i am!

her (8:46:03 PM): don't worry about it

her (8:46:09 PM): and i unbutton your shirt and you

me (8:46:32 PM): wonder how you did that because my shirt doesnt have buttons

her (8:46:52 PM): pretend it did

me (8:47:51 PM): ok

her (8:47:57 PM): keep going

me (8:49:12 PM): so im standing there, in my white t-shirt

me (8:49:14 PM): and you

her (8:49:26 PM): are you comfortable yet

me (8:49:50 PM): aside from my colon polyps, i would say yes

her (8:50:39 PM): and i reach for a kiss and you

me (8:51:51 PM): say whoa, are we taking this too fast?

her (8:51:58 PM): no

me (8:52:44 PM): ok, i just wanted to be sure

me (8:53:07 PM): so i say, can i ask you a favor?

her (8:53:15 PM): sure

me (8:53:28 PM): i want to have my uncle that molested me killed, will you help me dispose of his body

her (8:54:07 PM): i want you to take him to court first

me (8:54:14 PM): ok, but after?

her (8:55:38 PM): we will see

me (8:56:10 PM): ok

her (8:56:28 PM): we are on the couch still getting comfortable and you

me (8:56:44 PM): ask if you can make me some popcorn

her (8:56:57 PM): of course

her (8:57:41 PM): i'm making the popcorn and you

me (8:58:09 PM): notice my white shirt has armpit stains

me (9:00:14 PM): and realize that it's because i bought the wrong deodorant... again!

her (9:00:24 PM): i gtg

me (9:00:33 PM): oh, why

“her” signed off at 9:00:46 PM.