Saturday, July 27, 2002
MY APOLOGIES
I still haven't finished that damned Agnes Scott poem yet. I've been super-busy the last few days, working on my one-man show, writing some pieces for a friend's magazine, brooding, etc. It'll have to be Monday.
I'M PUTTING THE "ASS" BACK IN "CLASS"
So there's an AIDS Muppet now. The South Africa version of Sesame Street is introducing a character with AIDS. I think that's a good thing, it's something kids need to be educated on. But I kind of wonder how they're going to introduce it, because it's for kids, so the character can't say something like:
"I gave bareback for smack!"
But at the same time, you can't pussyfoot around it and be like:
"I was stung by the AIDS bee! Where does he live? Take the word 'HIVE' and subtract the letter 'E'!"
I'm thinking it won't be long until Sesame Street tackles other important subjects:
ELMO: "Elmo's daddy started drinking when his tech stocks crapped out. That's when Elmo started falling down all those stairs."
COOKIE MONSTER: "Me am addict to cookies. Me am suing cookie company for not warning me that cookies am addictive and fattening!"
THE COUNT: "For Christ's sake, I can't stop counting! I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder! One disorder, two disorders, for the love of God somebody help me!"
By the way, I think child abuse is unfunny, unless, of course, it happens to Elmo.
But it's good that it's happening for South Africa, because a whopping 60% of the population is suffering from AIDS. Which, for me, disproves the theory that AIDS was a genocide weapon developed by the CIA. When was the last time the government did anything that was 60% effective? They couldn't even assassinate Castro, and he has one leg! They gave him exploding cigars at one point. Exploding cigars! Were they out of itching powder and dribble glasses? Who was the head of the agency? The black and white guys from Spy vs. Spy?
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I still haven't finished that damned Agnes Scott poem yet. I've been super-busy the last few days, working on my one-man show, writing some pieces for a friend's magazine, brooding, etc. It'll have to be Monday.
I'M PUTTING THE "ASS" BACK IN "CLASS"
So there's an AIDS Muppet now. The South Africa version of Sesame Street is introducing a character with AIDS. I think that's a good thing, it's something kids need to be educated on. But I kind of wonder how they're going to introduce it, because it's for kids, so the character can't say something like:
"I gave bareback for smack!"
But at the same time, you can't pussyfoot around it and be like:
"I was stung by the AIDS bee! Where does he live? Take the word 'HIVE' and subtract the letter 'E'!"
I'm thinking it won't be long until Sesame Street tackles other important subjects:
ELMO: "Elmo's daddy started drinking when his tech stocks crapped out. That's when Elmo started falling down all those stairs."
COOKIE MONSTER: "Me am addict to cookies. Me am suing cookie company for not warning me that cookies am addictive and fattening!"
THE COUNT: "For Christ's sake, I can't stop counting! I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder! One disorder, two disorders, for the love of God somebody help me!"
By the way, I think child abuse is unfunny, unless, of course, it happens to Elmo.
But it's good that it's happening for South Africa, because a whopping 60% of the population is suffering from AIDS. Which, for me, disproves the theory that AIDS was a genocide weapon developed by the CIA. When was the last time the government did anything that was 60% effective? They couldn't even assassinate Castro, and he has one leg! They gave him exploding cigars at one point. Exploding cigars! Were they out of itching powder and dribble glasses? Who was the head of the agency? The black and white guys from Spy vs. Spy?
Thursday, July 25, 2002
MORE FUN WITH CHAT
I will admit that there are times when I post things on this blog that are no good.
Today's entry is good.
While looking through my computer for some old writings, I found this file. See, last year, I had entered an AOL Poetry chat room with the intention of fuckign with people.
A half-hour later, I had nearly emptied the chat room.
This is long, but the more you read, the funnier it actually gets. The last line is one of the great last lines in dramatic history.
(NOTE: Due to a copying error when I was making the transcript, a portion of it got lost towards the end. But I think you can fill in the blanks.)
OnlineHost: *** You are in "Arts and Entertainment - poetry". ***
Bzumgexbyn: You a smoker?
EntangleMe: My face.
XquisitObscurity: Nope
McEneaneyL: I WROTE A POEM
Cynicated: I didn't smoke at all today, Michelle.
McEneaneyL: MAY I SHARE IT?
Cynicated:So far.
EntangleMe: Good.
EntangleMe: Me neither.
Cynicated: Congratulate me.
McEneaneyL: I SAID MAY I SHARE IT?
Bzumgexbyn: Good for you, Cynica; don't smoke a couple more, for me, okay?
EntangleMe: That was my congratulations.
EntangleMe: I'm glad, though.
McEneaneyL: MAY I SHARE MY POEM?
McEneaneyL: THANK YOU
McEneaneyL: I WROTE IT ABOUT MY WIFE
McEneaneyL: IT'S CALLED, "YOUR PUSSY"
Cynicated: Nuclear war is bad for posterity.
McEneaneyL: SOMETIMES YOU MAKE ME BLUE
Hunnyswild: yuck
McEneaneyL: SOMETIMES I MAKE YOU BLACK AND BLUE
LogicFyi: super bon bon
McEneaneyL: AND THEN WE BOTH CRY AND GO BOO HOO
McEneaneyL: BUT THERE'S ONE THING I LOVE ABOUT YOU:
Bzumgexbyn: Alert Jerry Springer. We have a live one.
McEneaneyL: YOUR PUSSY
McEneaneyL: IT IS SO SNAPPY
McEneaneyL: IT MAKES ME HAPPY
McEneaneyL: AND GAY
EntangleMe: My keyboard is broken.
McEneaneyL: BUT NOT THAT WAY
LogicFyi: up the ol' highway
McEneaneyL: IT SMELLS LIKE TUNA FISH
Aynur113: im so glad you can rhyme
McEneaneyL: I TAKE OUT MY BONE AND MAKE A WISH
Cynicated: No W's?
LogicFyi: i'm more gladder
McEneaneyL: BUT WHEN YOU TELL ME THAT YOU FAKE IT
McEneaneyL: IT MAKES ME GLAD I CAN FEEL FREE TO JUST PUSH YOUR FACE IN THE PILLOW AND TAKE IT
Bzumgexbyn: Roman"I likes the sof' gooey center, even if it do smack of mackerel.
McEneaneyL: I'M SO GLAD THAT YOU'RE MINE
LogicFyi: smacks like teen spirit
McEneaneyL: NOT BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, BUT BECAUSE IT MEANS YOUR PUSSY IS MINE
Bzumgexbyn: (just stickin' an oar in the water)
McEneaneyL: THE END
McEneaneyL: COPYRIGHT 2001
McEneaneyL: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
XquisitObscurity: Ahhhhhhhhh ... ignore. One of the only feature's the AOL team coded that's always useful....
EntangleMe: ........My keyboard is broken.
LogicFyi: feature's?
McEneaneyL: NO REPUBLICATION WITHOUT MY EXPRESS WRITTEN CONSENT
Aynur113: im sorry entangle
SeeBrezzy: CY Is that y
SeeBrezzy: And I miss it ..
McEneaneyL: I READ IT TO MY WFIE, AND SHE CRIED
Bzumgexbyn: I daresay.
McEneaneyL: WELL, SHE CONTINUED CRYING
SeeBrezzy: read it again I want to cry
Aynur113: i would cry too
McEneaneyL: BUT THE POINT IS SHE FELT TOUCHED
Cynicated: The clouds look like they should be on a postcard.
McEneaneyL: SHUT UP CYNIC
EntangleMe: They're cutting down my tree, Ari.
McEneaneyL: IM HOLDING A POETRY DISCUSSION
Aynur113: me?
Bzumgexbyn: Shouldn't you be spellin' it 'wahf'?
XquisitObscurity: Anyone interested in hearing a poem ::prepares for flaming::
SeeBrezzy: what clouds Ari
Cynicated: No thanks, McEneaney, try again later.
Cynicated: The clouds in the sky, Julia.
McEneaneyL: GO AHEAD XQUISIT
SeeBrezzy: lol..k
McEneaneyL: IM LISTENING
Aynur113: me too
XquisitObscurity: Anyone?
XquisitObscurity: :(
SeeBrezzy: I thought MC Put clouds in the room when he was reading..
Shootingstar7118: I'm listening too
McEneaneyL: I SAID IM READY TO HEAR YOUR POETRY, ASSHOLE
XquisitObscurity: I promise it's not totally sucky -- and I proof read! :)
Aynur113: go ahead
SeeBrezzy: hey now ..be nice
XquisitObscurity: :) K!
McEneaneyL: GO AHEAD
McEneaneyL: IM GETTING BORED ALREADY
Cynicated: Why isn't Timmy at my house?
McEneaneyL: THIS BETTER BE GOOD
XquisitObscurity: --- And I'm Not Her ---
Aynur113: im sure it is
XquisitObscurity: She wasn't softer than the clouds ... and her touch was just like mine --
McEneaneyL: NICE TITLE
LogicFyi: i got a hizneadache
XquisitObscurity: though mine had been worn by the men before
McEneaneyL: WHAT?
XquisitObscurity: I knew your face -- she knows the words that make it twist
McEneaneyL: YOUR WHAT HAD BEEN WORN BY THE MEN?
XquisitObscurity: But you let her writh in your hands like cheap porn...
McEneaneyL: AND WHAT MEN?
XquisitObscurity: And I'm watching.
McEneaneyL: I'M GETTING CONFUSED
XquisitObscurity: And I'm the outsider -- where once I was the small sacrifice you made
McEneaneyL: WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING
XquisitObscurity: And I'm crying -- though I'll choke on the empty salt
McEneaneyL: I KNOW CHEAP PORN, GOOD ANALOGY
XquisitObscurity: She's no prettier than the golden sun, yet your eyes watch only her..
LogicFyi: choke on the load
XquisitObscurity: My shadowed figure caught in the bacground --
McEneaneyL: HEY SALT CANT BE EMPTY
XquisitObscurity: where once it was the object of your praise..
XquisitObscurity: And I'm letting the rain fall across my face --
XquisitObscurity: watching you catch her fraility in your simple hands that were my simple shelter
McEneaneyL: I SAID SALT CANT BE EMPTY
XquisitObscurity: And I'm simply
Aynur113: shut up for a second
Bzumgexbyn: (thing contained for the container, bung wipe)
McEneaneyL: OH I GET IT YOURE TALKING ABOUT CUM
McEneaneyL: SORRY
XquisitObscurity: lost
XquisitObscurity: And I'm waiting
McEneaneyL: KEEP GOING
XquisitObscurity: Like a fired hired hand -- with his shovel and his rake
PinkishlyEvil: tree!
XquisitObscurity: Looking forlorn in your front yard, so neatly tended to
LogicFyi: bow wow
McEneaneyL: RAKE? WHAT THE FUCK?
SeeBrezzy: bye bye..
PinkishlyEvil: ari
XquisitObscurity: nothing left for him to do...
McEneaneyL: YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT PORN, AND NOW YARDS AND RAKES?
XquisitObscurity: Nothing left for me to do.
Cynicated: Take care, Julia.
XquisitObscurity: Not here.
McEneaneyL: WHAT IS THIS A MONKEES' SONG??!!!!!
Cynicated: Hi there, Meagan.
Aynur113: yes, its gardening porn
XquisitObscurity: And I am watching
Elfman301: ummm right
XquisitObscurity: Crying
XquisitObscurity: Waiting
XquisitObscurity: Simple
XquisitObscurity: Simply
XquisitObscurity: Lost.
LogicFyi: simple-ing
XquisitObscurity: ~ Allie 02/16/00
McEneaneyL: WOW - THAT WAS THE WORST THING I'VE EVER READ
Elfman301: Take a step, one faithless step, you stoop to low,
NgAitLy73: i'm listening to Abba =)
LogicFyi: god have mercy on the musically challenged
Elfman301: you cry for all th passing things
ShadowedMidnight: hello everyone
Aynur113: hello
NgAitLy73: abba's cool, logic
Cyan Dragonmyst: hello room
McEneaneyL: HELLO SHADOWED WELCOME TO MY ROOM
XquisitObscurity: hey shadow & cyan
LogicFyi: k
McEneaneyL: I AM GOING TO READ A POEM
NgAitLy73: =P
ShadowedMidnight: ok
Aynur113: not again
McEneaneyL: IT'S ALL ABOUT WHERE THAT LAST POEM CAME FROM
McEneaneyL: IT'S CALLED "MY ASS"
Aynur113: please no
Bzumgexbyn: Drive carefully between the snakes that bask along the road
Aynur113: keep it away
ShadowedMidnight: oh wow.... how creative
McEneaneyL: MY ASS
McEneaneyL: HOW SCENTED LIKE A ROSE
Bzumgexbyn: There might just be something to that 'karma' thing.
McEneaneyL: MY ASS
Elfman301: how incitive
LogicFyi: ?
McEneaneyL: I WIPE IT ALONG MY WIFE'S FRESHLY LAUNDERED CLOTHES
Elfman301: karma again
XquisitObscurity: I agree, Bzum...
Elfman301: oh no
XxDisturbededxX: hey
Elfman301: hey
Shootingstar7118: must have been inspired...lol
McEneaneyL: MY ASS
NgAitLy73: so this poem is supposed to be good?
Elfman301: how are you disturbed
McEneaneyL: WHICH MY FATHER ENTERED WHEN I WAS THREE
EntangleMe: Ari,
McEneaneyL: MY ASS
XxDisturbededxX:ok
McEneaneyL: IT IS A PART OF ME
ShadowedMidnight: *rolls her eyes*
Cynicated:Mhm?
Elfman301: tough crowd
McEneaneyL: THE END
NgAitLy73: in the ass?
WildStar97: I'm breaking all the rules today
Bzumgexbyn: Logic, it's more like an online outpatient ward. Trust me, I know.
WildStar97: smoking in the computer room
XxDisturbededxX: ims perfectionest so i never thing my work is done or right
LogicFyi: i don't trust you
McEneaneyL: AYNUS YOU ARE REALLY HURTING MY FEELINGS
Elfman301: well then
Bzumgexbyn: Very good! You an ex-nutbucket, too?
Aynur113: at least it was short
Bzumgexbyn: Small world.
Elfman301: brb
Cockswain7748444: Obsesive - compulsive neurotic?
LogicFyi: bless you
Elfman301: ironiic
Elfman301: achoo
Aynur113: its just constructive critisism
McEneaneyL: MY NEXT POEM
McEneaneyL: IS THE LAST IN THE TRILOGY
WildStar97: oh good lord
McEneaneyL: I CALL "THE DIRTY PARTS" TRILOGY
McEneaneyL: IT'S CALLED, "I HAVE A BIG DICK"
Cockswain7748444: lets here it - gritting my teeth!
McEneaneyL: I HAVE A BIG DICK
ALWAYS RIA: HELLO EVERYONE
LogicFyi: the cantaloup is cold
Aynur113: i dont want to hear it
NgAitLy73: note the constant screaming
McEneaneyL: WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IT?
Shootingstar7118: more dirty parts oh boy
ShadowedMidnight: ugh....
Aynur113: no
McEneaneyL: WHEN I SEE A TOILET BOWL
McEneaneyL: I USE MY BIG DICK TO PEE IT
LogicFyi: you pee toilets?
McEneaneyL: WHEN IM IN NORTH CAROLINA
McEneaneyL: OR SOUTH.
NgAitLy73: lol
WildStar97: at least we know he's a big boy...
Aynur113: whats up with that?
McEneaneyL: I STICK IT IN MY WIFE'S VAGINA
Bzumgexbyn: (poetic license, maybe?)
McEneaneyL: OR IN A WHORE'S MOUTH
Aynur113: do you even have a wife?
LogicFyi: you have the urethra the size of the holland tunnel
McEneaneyL: IF I HAVE THE MONEY
McEneaneyL: AND IF I HAVE THE TIME
McEneaneyL: I COVER MY WIFE WITH HONEY
Cockswain7748444: Clean up your act ladies and gentlemen - I'm off to the lavatory for a breath of fresh air!
McEneaneyL: THEN I COVER HER WITH SLIME
NgAitLy73: bc she's that loyal to you
McEneaneyL: MY DICK, IT'S MY BESTFRIEND
Elfman301: ummm not to be annoying, but i dislike that poem
LogicFyi: did she say, ' i don't know ? '
McEneaneyL: WE'RE LOYAL TO THE VERY END
Bzumgexbyn: Cocks'n, you give the lie to your own s/n.
AyMami76: hola room
NgAitLy73: Elf, that's a given
McEneaneyL: AND WHEN I CUM IT AKES A LONG WHILE
Cyan Dragonmyst: hola Ay
McEneaneyL: BECAUSE MY DICK GIVES A GALLON TO THE MILE
McEneaneyL: ME AND MY DICK
Elfman301: ummm, i think you are quite obsence
NgAitLy73: cheney
McEneaneyL: DONT SWALLOW TOO FAST OR YOULL MAKE YOURSELF SICK
McEneaneyL: DICK DICK DICK
LogicFyi: dicken's cider
McEneaneyL: DICK
McEneaneyL: DICK DICK DICK DICK
NgAitLy73: tracy
McEneaneyL: DICK DICK
McEneaneyL: COCK DICK BALLS
Aynur113: im leaving now but if you do have a wife i feel really feel very sorry for her, send her my condolances
McEneaneyL: DICK DOCK TICK TOCK
McEneaneyL: DICK
McEneaneyL: THE END
McEneaneyL: COPYRIGHT 2001
McEneaneyL: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WildStar97: *throw rotten fruit at McEneaneyL*
NgAitLy73: ...yes
Shootingstar7118: lol
LogicFyi: or used condoms
Glubsss: oh temps suspends ton vol...
WildStar97: or vibrators
McEneaneyL: OKAY, ANY NOTES?
McEneaneyL: I AM VERY CURIOUS
WildStar97: notes?!?!?
Bzumgexbyn: Good to see you makin' the effort to protect that very valuable property, McE.
LogicFyi: or the ass hairs of a wild donkey
Glubsss: et vous heures propices
WildStar97: Get better topics!
McEneaneyL: YES, WILD, NOTES ON MY POETRY
Glubsss: suspendez votre cours
Sleep in Slavery: hi
NgAitLy73: who speaks french?
Glubsss: I
McEneaneyL: DAMMIT GLUB, QUIT TALKING RUSSIAN!
AyMami76: how is everyone 2 day?
McEneaneyL: NOW, MY SECOND TRILOGY
Elfman301: fine
Glubsss: not russian...
Elfman301: i speak french
McEneaneyL: IS MORE ABOUT MY CHILDHOOD
Bzumgexbyn: Il n'y a pas des grenouilles dans cette jardin.
Sleep in Slavery: Fauna conzona senza note nera.
WildStar97: I don't think anyone wants to hear ur damn second trilogy!
WildStar97: get a clue
McEneaneyL: THE SECOND TRILOGY IS CALLED "MOMMY, DADDY, DOG: PART 2 OF 14"
NgAitLy73: maybe he'll die in the second trilogy
WildStar97: lol
Bzumgexbyn: Keep a good thought, Ng.
Glubsss: good bzoom
Sleep in Slavery: Sei mah brimast lamia graza vere.
LogicFyi: mortal kombat trilogy
McEneaneyL: NOW I DONT KNOW IF ILL BE ABLE TO GET THROUGH ALL 14 TRILOGIES TODAY
McEneaneyL: BUT I'LL TRY
WildStar97: 14?!?!
NgAitLy73: <-- wishful thinker
LogicFyi: wishful spanker
NgAitLy73: ne wishful wankers, tho?
McEneaneyL: THIS FIRST ONE IS CALLED "I FUCKED MOMMY"
LogicFyi: i'm wanking right now
NgAitLy73: then u qualify in my book
AyMami76: i only speak spanish and english
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
LogicFyi: i learned spanguish from rico suave
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
AyMami76: is that o.k.?
Lizzy35b: hi
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
DjSkribbleChico1: iAM Puerto rican
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: I HATE THE JEWS
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
NgAitLy73: and yet his name isn't rico suave
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: I LIKE PONIES
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: BUT THERE COMES A OH OH OH
McEneaneyL: YES MOMMY
NgAitLy73: don't tell me this is some form of richard simmons porn
McEneaneyL: NO
LogicFyi: yep - the famous spanish philosopher: rico suave
McEneaneyL: DADDY SAYS I SHOULDNT
McEneaneyL: HE SAYS I AM CHEATING ON HIM
McEneaneyL: BUT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: DAMN!
McEneaneyL: NOW COOK ME DINNER
McEneaneyL: THE END
McEneaneyL: COPYRIGHT 2001
NgAitLy73: all rights reserved?
McEneaneyL: AS YOU CAN SEE, I WAS EXPERIMENTING WITH THE ART FORM
LogicFyi: by group w?
Bzumgexbyn: Musta left out the stanzas with the dog.
McEneaneyL: GOING AWAY FROM MY TRADITIONAL RHYME SCHEMES
McEneaneyL: AND EXPLORING MORE PERSONAL TERRITRY
LogicFyi: personal terriers?
McEneaneyL: YOU CAN SEE, I TRIED A LITTLE FREE VERSE
LogicFyi: it wasn't little enough
NgAitLy73: note: "tried"
Bzumgexbyn: You know, for real in-depth personal exploration, I recommend judicious placement of small quantities of high explosive.
McEneaneyL: OF COURSE, BY THE 11TH TRILOGY, I WAS ALMOST SOLIDLY USING BALLAD FORM ABAB VERSE
NgAitLy73: how about abba?
NgAitLy73: =)
McEneaneyL: BUT WE'LL GET TO THAT
McEneaneyL: SHUT UP
Bzumgexbyn: No, Abba's not explosive enough.
LogicFyi: how about babba booie?
NgAitLy73: Abba's cool
McEneaneyL: NG IF YOU CANT BE CONSTRUCTIVE, LEAVE
NgAitLy73: i can use contruction paper =)
LogicFyi: barely
NgAitLy73: but not scissors. i'm not allowed to touch scissors
XquisitObscurity: I agree with Mc...
LogicFyi: she can eat paste
NgAitLy73: who's she?
PinkishlyEvil: i cut with scissors today
LogicFyi: the lesbanoid
Bzumgexbyn: Hey, speakin' of not touching scissors: my brother's in the spin bin ag'in.
PinkishlyEvil: i cut the lemonade container thing.
NgAitLy73: o, of course
XquisitObscurity: spin bin?
McEneaneyL: THE SECOND POEM IN THE TRILOGY
LogicFyi: which reminds me of a joke - but nevermind that
XquisitObscurity: Not up on slang, I'm old...
McEneaneyL: IS CALLED "MY DADDY WAS A PISTOL AND I GOT SHOT IN THE BACK"
NgAitLy73: i find it amusing how he thinks we're listening
Bzumgexbyn: Aye, the spin bin, where you do a few orbits with the loonies.
XquisitObscurity: Ahhhhhh.
LogicFyi: i got shot in the debacle
McEneaneyL: I CAN'T WALK!
McEneaneyL: WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?
McEneaneyL: I CAN'T FEEL MY LEGS NO MORE
NgAitLy73: a debacle is like a problem...
AyMami76: i'm sorry u got shot sweety!
McEneaneyL: OH DADDY
LogicFyi: it's a part of a particle
Smokeyrunner16: poetry sucks unles its about the south
LogicFyi: a debacle
McEneaneyL: PEELING AWAY THE LAYERS OF THE ONION THAT IS LIFE
NgAitLy73: uh huh...
McEneaneyL: I SEE BENEATH MY SKIN
McEneaneyL: YOUR FELSH
McEneaneyL: YOUR BONES
JUJU2046: HELLO EVERYONE
McEneaneyL: YOUR NERVES
McEneaneyL: YOUR SPINE
LogicFyi: i'm done -
McEneaneyL: YOUR LARGE INTESTINES
Bzumgexbyn: Uh-oh, a metaphor, a metaphor, a metaphor.
McEneaneyL: YOUR SMALL INTESTINES
McEneaneyL: YOUR LIVER
McEneaneyL: YOUR KIDNEY
Smokeyrunner16: your eye
McEneaneyL: YOUR LUNGS
NgAitLy73: o no, onomatopoeia
McEneaneyL: YOUR HEART
McEneaneyL: YOUR WINKY WANG
Smokeyrunner16: your nuts
Smokeyrunner16: lol
McEneaneyL: YOUR CELLS
McEneaneyL: YOUR BRAIN
Smokeyrunner16: your shit
McEneaneyL: YOUR CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM
McEneaneyL: YOUR MUSCLES
Smokeyrunner16: your snot
McEneaneyL: EVERYTHING THAT MAKES YOU YOU HAS MADE ME
McEneaneyL: YOU MADE ME
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR BRAIN
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR LUNGS
Smokeyrunner16:with your nuts
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR HEART
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR BONES
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR EYES
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR NERVES
Smokeyrunner16: with your dick
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR SPINE
XxDisturbededxX: smokey that's not nice
McEneaneyL: AND WITH - YOUR LOVE
McEneaneyL: THE NED
Bzumgexbyn:
McEneaneyL: COPYRIGHT 2001
Smokeyrunner16: al sshot up u fag
McEneaneyL: SHUT SMOKEY YOU PRISON BITCH
XxDisturbededxX: that was pretty
XxDisturbededxX: what i saw of it
McEneaneyL: THIS LAST POEM IN THE RILOGY
Bzumgexbyn: Did you misspell a word, Disturbed? Like, maybe 'grotesque,' or 'boring,' or 'excruciating?'
McEneaneyL: THANG YOU DISTURBED
McEneaneyL: THIS LAST POEM IN THE TRILOGY
XxDisturbededxX: i thought it was pretty
McEneaneyL: IS ABOUT MAN'S OTHER BEST FRIEND
McEneaneyL: OF COURSE, I EXPLORED HIS FIRST BEST FRIND IN "MY BIG DICK"
McEneaneyL: LOL
McEneaneyL: LOL
McEneaneyL: LMFAO
Cynicated: What's man's other best friend?
McEneaneyL: ROF
McEneaneyL: LOL
McEneaneyL: ROFLMAO
Bzumgexbyn: They'll both be together in this next poem, I'll wager.
McEneaneyL: OF COURSE, IM TALKING ABOUT MY DOG
Cynicated: People discourage me.
McEneaneyL: AND THUS, IVE WRITTEN A POEM ABOUT MY FIRST EVER DOG
McEneaneyL: IT'S CALLED "SIR WOOFERS"
McEneaneyL: OH SIR WOOFERS
McEneaneyL: I LOVED YOU SO MUCH
McEneaneyL: YOUR SILKY HAIR
Bzumgexbyn: Cynica, sweet child, you expect animals to leap to angelic in a few scant myriads of evolution?
McEneaneyL: YOUR PAWS
Cynicated: Yes.
McEneaneyL: I FEED YOU A MLIK BONE
Cynicated: I expect much, too much of people.
McEneaneyL: AND YOU EAT IT EAGERLY
Cynicated: I'm always disappointed.
McEneaneyL: MOMMY AND DADDY ONLY HAVE ENOUGH MONEY
McEneaneyL: TO FEED YOU MEAGERLY
Cynicated: It's a tiny bit of optimism that just fucking won't die.
McEneaneyL: IF I COULD TAKE THE STARS FROM THE SKY
McEneaneyL: AND SPIN THEM LIKE
McEneaneyL: YARN
Cynicated: [hehe, my grammar was terrible in that last "sentence."]
McEneaneyL: I WOULD GIVE THE SEATER I KNOT TO ANYONE
McEneaneyL: EXCUSE ME, I WAOULD GIVE THE SWEATER I KNIT TO ANYONE
McEneaneyL: NOT TO HAVE GOTTEN CAUGHT FUCKING YOU BEHIND THE BARN
McEneaneyL: THE END
McEneaneyL: COPYRIGHT 2001
Bzumgexbyn: I am still struggling with it. Do I have the sense of it if I read it: "Fucking makes it worth sticking around for a while longer yet."?
McEneaneyL: ALL RIGHS RESERVED
McEneaneyL: NO NEED TO TAHNK ME
McEneaneyL: I WILL ACCEPT NOTES ON TRILOGY 2 NOW
McEneaneyL: HEY - WHERE DID EVERYONE OG?
Cynicated: No.
McEneaneyL: THERE'S ONLY FIVE OF US LEFT NOW!!!
XxDisturbededxX: i'm here
Cynicated: Just get rid of the fucking.
XxDisturbededxX: putting finishing touches on a poem
Cynicated: and, it almost makes sense.
McEneaneyL: ANY NOTES?
McEneaneyL: CYNICA, I DONT TRUST YOU
Cynicated: Stop writing, McEneaneyL.
McEneaneyL: SEE?
Cynicated: Good boy. You shouldn't trust me.
Bzumgexbyn: Oh, I got it now. You had 'optimism' as a thing that could die.
Cynicated: Yes. I just had it in a terrible place.
McEneaneyL: THAT'S RIGHT BZUM, THE DOG REPRESENTS MY YOUTHFUL OPTIMISM
McEneaneyL: AND IT DIED
McEneaneyL: GOOD POINT!
XxDisturbededxX: ok it's done
McEneaneyL: SEE, PEOPLE, EVEN GAY GUYS CAN APPRECIATE GOOD POETRY!
McEneaneyL: GO AHEAD DISTURBED
McEneaneyL: SHARE YOUR POEM
McEneaneyL: BEFORE I READ TRILGY 3
XxDisturbededxX: um me?
Cynicated: I have to pee. I'll be right back.
McEneaneyL: CYNICA, THATS DISGUSTING!
XxDisturbededxX: ok i guess
McEneaneyL: GO AHEAD!
XxDisturbededxX: You are snotty, arrogant, and selfish
Bzumgexbyn: I'll have a butt in the back yard. Enjoy the straight line, McE. I'll be back to read it in a few minutes.
McEneaneyL: UH HUH
McEneaneyL: KEEP GOING DISTURBED
XxDisturbededxX: you believe you're definition of perfection
McEneaneyL: YES!
McEneaneyL: DEFINITIONS, LIKE A DICTIONARY
McEneaneyL: KEEP GOING!
XxDisturbededxX: i realize now, that you could never love me as much as you love yourself
McEneaneyL: IF YOU PRINT THIS, YOU MIGHT ACTUALLY WANT TO PHOTOCOPY THE DEFINITON OF PERFECTION FROM THE DICTIONARY
XxDisturbededxX: so i'm leaving you and all the pain you have given me
XxDisturbededxX: I'm tellin gyou now
XxDisturbededxX: I'm walking away
McEneaneyL: AND PRINT IT SIDE-BY-SIDE WITH THE POEM
XxDisturbededxX: I'm saying my last goodbye
McEneaneyL: WALKING AWAY NOT RUNNING
McEneaneyL: GOOD
XxDisturbededxX: and i will forever stay away
McEneaneyL: A LOT OF VISUAL IMAGERY GOIUNG ON
XxDisturbededxX: um you have issues
XxDisturbededxX: serious ones
McEneaneyL: ALL RIGHT, YOPUR POEM BORES ME NOW
McEneaneyL: MY TURN AGAN
XxDisturbededxX: ok have fun
NgAitLy73: umm...yay?
McEneaneyL: DISTURBED WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE THAT WAY?
McEneaneyL: DONT BE A BABY
Bzumgexbyn: back
XxDisturbededxX: me? baby?
McEneaneyL: IM TRYING TO BE SUPPIRTIVE
XxDisturbededxX: i'm not the one talking about fucking dogs
McEneaneyL: AND YOU KEEP SHOOTING ME DOWN
Bzumgexbyn: I'm having a beer. Tecate. It's made not more than a handful of miles from here.
XxDisturbededxX: i just said you have issues
McEneaneyL: IT'S ALMOST LIKE YOU DONT WANT ANYONE TO HELP YOU
Bzumgexbyn: (sips)
NgAitLy73: i like how he's trying to act innocent
Bzumgexbyn: It travels very badly.
NgAitLy73: o, i forgot to add 'dis-' in there
Cynicated: There's ink on my lip.
McEneaneyL: DISTURBED, HOW DARE YOU?
Bzumgexbyn: That's not surprising, but it oddly rousing.
McEneaneyL: I TREATED YOU LIKE THE DAUGHTER I NEVER HAD
KF Super17: heh
XxDisturbededxX: um like i said
McEneaneyL: GREETINGS NEWCOMERS
XxDisturbededxX: serious issues
McEneaneyL: WELCOME TO MY ROOM
NgAitLy73: passive entered the room
Raven Nighthawke: what kind of chat is this?
XxDisturbededxX: you know you might want to get that mind checked out
NgAitLy73: random
McEneaneyL: IT IS A ROOM FOR ME TO READ MY POETRY
Cynicated: I can't find my smokes.
Cynicated: Oooh. This song is epic.
KF Super17: A room for u????
McEneaneyL: MY NEXT TRILOGY
KF Super17: hahah
Raven Nighthawke: can others share poetry?
McEneaneyL: WHEN IM DONE WITH MY TRILOGIES, RAVEN
McEneaneyL: DISTURBED RUINED IT FOR EVERYBODY
Passiveslv4u: this is an open room Raven,
KF Super17: Don't make me laugh
Passiveslv4u: Hi Gait
McEneaneyL: THIS NEXT TRILOGY IS CALLED "THE SCHOOL DAZED TRILOGY"
SnowGurlie8: hey
Bzumgexbyn: Type, oh, type, thou most fearless of poets. Breast the wave of all-caps foamspew and
(PORTION OF THE TRANSCRIPT MISSING)
NgAitLy73: ...he shouldn't go to health class, then
McEneaneyL: AM I A MASTER?
Bzumgexbyn: Ng, I don't think you're his type: too civil, by half.
McEneaneyL: SERIOUSLY, YES I AM. WHY?
NgAitLy73: but don't use it as an insult
Jloosedaone: really???
McEneaneyL: YES. WHY?
Jloosedaone: how is that?
McEneaneyL: IT FEELS GOO. WHY?
Bzumgexbyn: Hey, Ng, you gotta use what stings. Clearly, to McE, it's a loaded notion.
NgAitLy73: nonetheless, don't use it as an insult
McEneaneyL: WHY, JLOOSE?
Jloosedaone: then u must challenge me in a private room to a poetic duel
NgAitLy73: do we go around calling ppl niggers?
NgAitLy73: no bc we respect black ppl, and we're openminded about diff. races
McEneaneyL: UM, IF I WERE GAY I'D BE HAPPY TO TRIP OFF TO A PRIVATE ROOM WIHT YOU
NgAitLy73: so y not sexualities?
Xobyar: hello
Jloosedaone: prove yourself
Dreamerz2003: hi all
Jloosedaone: i am not gay!!
Passiveslv4u: oh no, not another Challenge
McEneaneyL: I JUST DID FOR THE LAST HALF-HOUR, ASSHOLE
Bzumgexbyn: Only where that word has the right impact. If I refer to you, it'd be as "Ng," not as
McEneaneyL: JLOOSE, YO PROBABLY WANT TO GET ME ALONE TO TELL ME POEMS
Jloosedaone: i was not here
McEneaneyL: ABOUT SLATHERING MY BODY WITH WHIPPED CREAM
Jloosedaone: not!!
Jloosedaone: hell nooooo!!!
Bzumgexbyn: "Queen Ng." I've no reason to think that having your orientation referred to would sting you, if I said it.
NgAitLy73: no, do you understand that the use of a word that refers to a homosexual is then seens as an insult to all homosexuals
McEneaneyL: YOU PROBABLY READ MY POEM ABOUT MY BIG DICK AND GOT ALL EXCITED
Jloosedaone: i am a master and i hold that record!!
NgAitLy73: the use of the same word then indirectly condescends that entire community
McEneaneyL: THE ONLY THING YOU HOLD IS YOUR BOYFRIEND'S DICK IN YOUR MOUTH
NgAitLy73: whether you mean it or not
Jloosedaone: u must be gay!!
Bzumgexbyn: Nah, I see that people will take offense at what it pleases them to take offense at--but sometimes it's possible to offend deliberately.
McEneaneyL: PLEASE, JLOOSE, DONT BE MAD BECAUSE I HOLD THE MIRROR OF TRUTH UP TO YOU
NgAitLy73: no, it is like another form of ignorance
NgAitLy73: just use another word
McEneaneyL: NG - SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
PallidDollKisses:hello
Jloosedaone: u r far beneath the realms of a real master bitch!!!
McEneaneyL: IM TALKING ABOUT BEAUTY HERE, NOT HURTFUL WORDS
Bzumgexbyn: Nonsense, Ng. If I let you hold my tongue, what respect can either of us have for the other?
NgAitLy73: y, Mc, your brain doesn't work at that high of a level?
McEneaneyL: JLOOSE, LET'S SEE ONE OF YOUR POEMS, ASSHOLE
NgAitLy73: tell me, do you use the word 'nigger' as an insult?
Jloosedaone: no u r not worthy
McEneaneyL: COWARD
NgAitLy73: or any other word that is deliberately linked to another race?
McEneaneyL: GOODBYE ALL
SnowGurlie8: omg...wtf are you people mad about!!1
McEneaneyL: MY WIFE IS LATE WITH DINNER AGAIN
Jloosedaone: why do u call out your name like that!!?
McEneaneyL: AND MUST BE DISCIPLINED
NgAitLy73: y is it that 'gay' and 'faggot' are practically the only ones used?
Bzumgexbyn: Rarely, Ng. I don't have that many occasions to use the term. "Nigger," as I use it,
McEneaneyL: LOL
Jloosedaone: your dog?
Bzumgexbyn: is a pretty TIGHT definition.
Coolcory28034468: anyone got good sad poems?
|
I will admit that there are times when I post things on this blog that are no good.
Today's entry is good.
While looking through my computer for some old writings, I found this file. See, last year, I had entered an AOL Poetry chat room with the intention of fuckign with people.
A half-hour later, I had nearly emptied the chat room.
This is long, but the more you read, the funnier it actually gets. The last line is one of the great last lines in dramatic history.
(NOTE: Due to a copying error when I was making the transcript, a portion of it got lost towards the end. But I think you can fill in the blanks.)
OnlineHost: *** You are in "Arts and Entertainment - poetry". ***
Bzumgexbyn: You a smoker?
EntangleMe: My face.
XquisitObscurity: Nope
McEneaneyL: I WROTE A POEM
Cynicated: I didn't smoke at all today, Michelle.
McEneaneyL: MAY I SHARE IT?
Cynicated:So far.
EntangleMe: Good.
EntangleMe: Me neither.
Cynicated: Congratulate me.
McEneaneyL: I SAID MAY I SHARE IT?
Bzumgexbyn: Good for you, Cynica; don't smoke a couple more, for me, okay?
EntangleMe: That was my congratulations.
EntangleMe: I'm glad, though.
McEneaneyL: MAY I SHARE MY POEM?
McEneaneyL: THANK YOU
McEneaneyL: I WROTE IT ABOUT MY WIFE
McEneaneyL: IT'S CALLED, "YOUR PUSSY"
Cynicated: Nuclear war is bad for posterity.
McEneaneyL: SOMETIMES YOU MAKE ME BLUE
Hunnyswild: yuck
McEneaneyL: SOMETIMES I MAKE YOU BLACK AND BLUE
LogicFyi: super bon bon
McEneaneyL: AND THEN WE BOTH CRY AND GO BOO HOO
McEneaneyL: BUT THERE'S ONE THING I LOVE ABOUT YOU:
Bzumgexbyn: Alert Jerry Springer. We have a live one.
McEneaneyL: YOUR PUSSY
McEneaneyL: IT IS SO SNAPPY
McEneaneyL: IT MAKES ME HAPPY
McEneaneyL: AND GAY
EntangleMe: My keyboard is broken.
McEneaneyL: BUT NOT THAT WAY
LogicFyi: up the ol' highway
McEneaneyL: IT SMELLS LIKE TUNA FISH
Aynur113: im so glad you can rhyme
McEneaneyL: I TAKE OUT MY BONE AND MAKE A WISH
Cynicated: No W's?
LogicFyi: i'm more gladder
McEneaneyL: BUT WHEN YOU TELL ME THAT YOU FAKE IT
McEneaneyL: IT MAKES ME GLAD I CAN FEEL FREE TO JUST PUSH YOUR FACE IN THE PILLOW AND TAKE IT
Bzumgexbyn: Roman"I likes the sof' gooey center, even if it do smack of mackerel.
McEneaneyL: I'M SO GLAD THAT YOU'RE MINE
LogicFyi: smacks like teen spirit
McEneaneyL: NOT BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, BUT BECAUSE IT MEANS YOUR PUSSY IS MINE
Bzumgexbyn: (just stickin' an oar in the water)
McEneaneyL: THE END
McEneaneyL: COPYRIGHT 2001
McEneaneyL: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
XquisitObscurity: Ahhhhhhhhh ... ignore. One of the only feature's the AOL team coded that's always useful....
EntangleMe: ........My keyboard is broken.
LogicFyi: feature's?
McEneaneyL: NO REPUBLICATION WITHOUT MY EXPRESS WRITTEN CONSENT
Aynur113: im sorry entangle
SeeBrezzy: CY Is that y
SeeBrezzy: And I miss it ..
McEneaneyL: I READ IT TO MY WFIE, AND SHE CRIED
Bzumgexbyn: I daresay.
McEneaneyL: WELL, SHE CONTINUED CRYING
SeeBrezzy: read it again I want to cry
Aynur113: i would cry too
McEneaneyL: BUT THE POINT IS SHE FELT TOUCHED
Cynicated: The clouds look like they should be on a postcard.
McEneaneyL: SHUT UP CYNIC
EntangleMe: They're cutting down my tree, Ari.
McEneaneyL: IM HOLDING A POETRY DISCUSSION
Aynur113: me?
Bzumgexbyn: Shouldn't you be spellin' it 'wahf'?
XquisitObscurity: Anyone interested in hearing a poem ::prepares for flaming::
SeeBrezzy: what clouds Ari
Cynicated: No thanks, McEneaney, try again later.
Cynicated: The clouds in the sky, Julia.
McEneaneyL: GO AHEAD XQUISIT
SeeBrezzy: lol..k
McEneaneyL: IM LISTENING
Aynur113: me too
XquisitObscurity: Anyone?
XquisitObscurity: :(
SeeBrezzy: I thought MC Put clouds in the room when he was reading..
Shootingstar7118: I'm listening too
McEneaneyL: I SAID IM READY TO HEAR YOUR POETRY, ASSHOLE
XquisitObscurity: I promise it's not totally sucky -- and I proof read! :)
Aynur113: go ahead
SeeBrezzy: hey now ..be nice
XquisitObscurity: :) K!
McEneaneyL: GO AHEAD
McEneaneyL: IM GETTING BORED ALREADY
Cynicated: Why isn't Timmy at my house?
McEneaneyL: THIS BETTER BE GOOD
XquisitObscurity: --- And I'm Not Her ---
Aynur113: im sure it is
XquisitObscurity: She wasn't softer than the clouds ... and her touch was just like mine --
McEneaneyL: NICE TITLE
LogicFyi: i got a hizneadache
XquisitObscurity: though mine had been worn by the men before
McEneaneyL: WHAT?
XquisitObscurity: I knew your face -- she knows the words that make it twist
McEneaneyL: YOUR WHAT HAD BEEN WORN BY THE MEN?
XquisitObscurity: But you let her writh in your hands like cheap porn...
McEneaneyL: AND WHAT MEN?
XquisitObscurity: And I'm watching.
McEneaneyL: I'M GETTING CONFUSED
XquisitObscurity: And I'm the outsider -- where once I was the small sacrifice you made
McEneaneyL: WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING
XquisitObscurity: And I'm crying -- though I'll choke on the empty salt
McEneaneyL: I KNOW CHEAP PORN, GOOD ANALOGY
XquisitObscurity: She's no prettier than the golden sun, yet your eyes watch only her..
LogicFyi: choke on the load
XquisitObscurity: My shadowed figure caught in the bacground --
McEneaneyL: HEY SALT CANT BE EMPTY
XquisitObscurity: where once it was the object of your praise..
XquisitObscurity: And I'm letting the rain fall across my face --
XquisitObscurity: watching you catch her fraility in your simple hands that were my simple shelter
McEneaneyL: I SAID SALT CANT BE EMPTY
XquisitObscurity: And I'm simply
Aynur113: shut up for a second
Bzumgexbyn: (thing contained for the container, bung wipe)
McEneaneyL: OH I GET IT YOURE TALKING ABOUT CUM
McEneaneyL: SORRY
XquisitObscurity: lost
XquisitObscurity: And I'm waiting
McEneaneyL: KEEP GOING
XquisitObscurity: Like a fired hired hand -- with his shovel and his rake
PinkishlyEvil: tree!
XquisitObscurity: Looking forlorn in your front yard, so neatly tended to
LogicFyi: bow wow
McEneaneyL: RAKE? WHAT THE FUCK?
SeeBrezzy: bye bye..
PinkishlyEvil: ari
XquisitObscurity: nothing left for him to do...
McEneaneyL: YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT PORN, AND NOW YARDS AND RAKES?
XquisitObscurity: Nothing left for me to do.
Cynicated: Take care, Julia.
XquisitObscurity: Not here.
McEneaneyL: WHAT IS THIS A MONKEES' SONG??!!!!!
Cynicated: Hi there, Meagan.
Aynur113: yes, its gardening porn
XquisitObscurity: And I am watching
Elfman301: ummm right
XquisitObscurity: Crying
XquisitObscurity: Waiting
XquisitObscurity: Simple
XquisitObscurity: Simply
XquisitObscurity: Lost.
LogicFyi: simple-ing
XquisitObscurity: ~ Allie 02/16/00
McEneaneyL: WOW - THAT WAS THE WORST THING I'VE EVER READ
Elfman301: Take a step, one faithless step, you stoop to low,
NgAitLy73: i'm listening to Abba =)
LogicFyi: god have mercy on the musically challenged
Elfman301: you cry for all th passing things
ShadowedMidnight: hello everyone
Aynur113: hello
NgAitLy73: abba's cool, logic
Cyan Dragonmyst: hello room
McEneaneyL: HELLO SHADOWED WELCOME TO MY ROOM
XquisitObscurity: hey shadow & cyan
LogicFyi: k
McEneaneyL: I AM GOING TO READ A POEM
NgAitLy73: =P
ShadowedMidnight: ok
Aynur113: not again
McEneaneyL: IT'S ALL ABOUT WHERE THAT LAST POEM CAME FROM
McEneaneyL: IT'S CALLED "MY ASS"
Aynur113: please no
Bzumgexbyn: Drive carefully between the snakes that bask along the road
Aynur113: keep it away
ShadowedMidnight: oh wow.... how creative
McEneaneyL: MY ASS
McEneaneyL: HOW SCENTED LIKE A ROSE
Bzumgexbyn: There might just be something to that 'karma' thing.
McEneaneyL: MY ASS
Elfman301: how incitive
LogicFyi: ?
McEneaneyL: I WIPE IT ALONG MY WIFE'S FRESHLY LAUNDERED CLOTHES
Elfman301: karma again
XquisitObscurity: I agree, Bzum...
Elfman301: oh no
XxDisturbededxX: hey
Elfman301: hey
Shootingstar7118: must have been inspired...lol
McEneaneyL: MY ASS
NgAitLy73: so this poem is supposed to be good?
Elfman301: how are you disturbed
McEneaneyL: WHICH MY FATHER ENTERED WHEN I WAS THREE
EntangleMe: Ari,
McEneaneyL: MY ASS
XxDisturbededxX:ok
McEneaneyL: IT IS A PART OF ME
ShadowedMidnight: *rolls her eyes*
Cynicated:Mhm?
Elfman301: tough crowd
McEneaneyL: THE END
NgAitLy73: in the ass?
WildStar97: I'm breaking all the rules today
Bzumgexbyn: Logic, it's more like an online outpatient ward. Trust me, I know.
WildStar97: smoking in the computer room
XxDisturbededxX: ims perfectionest so i never thing my work is done or right
LogicFyi: i don't trust you
McEneaneyL: AYNUS YOU ARE REALLY HURTING MY FEELINGS
Elfman301: well then
Bzumgexbyn: Very good! You an ex-nutbucket, too?
Aynur113: at least it was short
Bzumgexbyn: Small world.
Elfman301: brb
Cockswain7748444: Obsesive - compulsive neurotic?
LogicFyi: bless you
Elfman301: ironiic
Elfman301: achoo
Aynur113: its just constructive critisism
McEneaneyL: MY NEXT POEM
McEneaneyL: IS THE LAST IN THE TRILOGY
WildStar97: oh good lord
McEneaneyL: I CALL "THE DIRTY PARTS" TRILOGY
McEneaneyL: IT'S CALLED, "I HAVE A BIG DICK"
Cockswain7748444: lets here it - gritting my teeth!
McEneaneyL: I HAVE A BIG DICK
ALWAYS RIA: HELLO EVERYONE
LogicFyi: the cantaloup is cold
Aynur113: i dont want to hear it
NgAitLy73: note the constant screaming
McEneaneyL: WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IT?
Shootingstar7118: more dirty parts oh boy
ShadowedMidnight: ugh....
Aynur113: no
McEneaneyL: WHEN I SEE A TOILET BOWL
McEneaneyL: I USE MY BIG DICK TO PEE IT
LogicFyi: you pee toilets?
McEneaneyL: WHEN IM IN NORTH CAROLINA
McEneaneyL: OR SOUTH.
NgAitLy73: lol
WildStar97: at least we know he's a big boy...
Aynur113: whats up with that?
McEneaneyL: I STICK IT IN MY WIFE'S VAGINA
Bzumgexbyn: (poetic license, maybe?)
McEneaneyL: OR IN A WHORE'S MOUTH
Aynur113: do you even have a wife?
LogicFyi: you have the urethra the size of the holland tunnel
McEneaneyL: IF I HAVE THE MONEY
McEneaneyL: AND IF I HAVE THE TIME
McEneaneyL: I COVER MY WIFE WITH HONEY
Cockswain7748444: Clean up your act ladies and gentlemen - I'm off to the lavatory for a breath of fresh air!
McEneaneyL: THEN I COVER HER WITH SLIME
NgAitLy73: bc she's that loyal to you
McEneaneyL: MY DICK, IT'S MY BESTFRIEND
Elfman301: ummm not to be annoying, but i dislike that poem
LogicFyi: did she say, ' i don't know ? '
McEneaneyL: WE'RE LOYAL TO THE VERY END
Bzumgexbyn: Cocks'n, you give the lie to your own s/n.
AyMami76: hola room
NgAitLy73: Elf, that's a given
McEneaneyL: AND WHEN I CUM IT AKES A LONG WHILE
Cyan Dragonmyst: hola Ay
McEneaneyL: BECAUSE MY DICK GIVES A GALLON TO THE MILE
McEneaneyL: ME AND MY DICK
Elfman301: ummm, i think you are quite obsence
NgAitLy73: cheney
McEneaneyL: DONT SWALLOW TOO FAST OR YOULL MAKE YOURSELF SICK
McEneaneyL: DICK DICK DICK
LogicFyi: dicken's cider
McEneaneyL: DICK
McEneaneyL: DICK DICK DICK DICK
NgAitLy73: tracy
McEneaneyL: DICK DICK
McEneaneyL: COCK DICK BALLS
Aynur113: im leaving now but if you do have a wife i feel really feel very sorry for her, send her my condolances
McEneaneyL: DICK DOCK TICK TOCK
McEneaneyL: DICK
McEneaneyL: THE END
McEneaneyL: COPYRIGHT 2001
McEneaneyL: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WildStar97: *throw rotten fruit at McEneaneyL*
NgAitLy73: ...yes
Shootingstar7118: lol
LogicFyi: or used condoms
Glubsss: oh temps suspends ton vol...
WildStar97: or vibrators
McEneaneyL: OKAY, ANY NOTES?
McEneaneyL: I AM VERY CURIOUS
WildStar97: notes?!?!?
Bzumgexbyn: Good to see you makin' the effort to protect that very valuable property, McE.
LogicFyi: or the ass hairs of a wild donkey
Glubsss: et vous heures propices
WildStar97: Get better topics!
McEneaneyL: YES, WILD, NOTES ON MY POETRY
Glubsss: suspendez votre cours
Sleep in Slavery: hi
NgAitLy73: who speaks french?
Glubsss: I
McEneaneyL: DAMMIT GLUB, QUIT TALKING RUSSIAN!
AyMami76: how is everyone 2 day?
McEneaneyL: NOW, MY SECOND TRILOGY
Elfman301: fine
Glubsss: not russian...
Elfman301: i speak french
McEneaneyL: IS MORE ABOUT MY CHILDHOOD
Bzumgexbyn: Il n'y a pas des grenouilles dans cette jardin.
Sleep in Slavery: Fauna conzona senza note nera.
WildStar97: I don't think anyone wants to hear ur damn second trilogy!
WildStar97: get a clue
McEneaneyL: THE SECOND TRILOGY IS CALLED "MOMMY, DADDY, DOG: PART 2 OF 14"
NgAitLy73: maybe he'll die in the second trilogy
WildStar97: lol
Bzumgexbyn: Keep a good thought, Ng.
Glubsss: good bzoom
Sleep in Slavery: Sei mah brimast lamia graza vere.
LogicFyi: mortal kombat trilogy
McEneaneyL: NOW I DONT KNOW IF ILL BE ABLE TO GET THROUGH ALL 14 TRILOGIES TODAY
McEneaneyL: BUT I'LL TRY
WildStar97: 14?!?!
NgAitLy73: <-- wishful thinker
LogicFyi: wishful spanker
NgAitLy73: ne wishful wankers, tho?
McEneaneyL: THIS FIRST ONE IS CALLED "I FUCKED MOMMY"
LogicFyi: i'm wanking right now
NgAitLy73: then u qualify in my book
AyMami76: i only speak spanish and english
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
LogicFyi: i learned spanguish from rico suave
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
AyMami76: is that o.k.?
Lizzy35b: hi
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
DjSkribbleChico1: iAM Puerto rican
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: I HATE THE JEWS
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
NgAitLy73: and yet his name isn't rico suave
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: I LIKE PONIES
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: BUT THERE COMES A OH OH OH
McEneaneyL: YES MOMMY
NgAitLy73: don't tell me this is some form of richard simmons porn
McEneaneyL: NO
LogicFyi: yep - the famous spanish philosopher: rico suave
McEneaneyL: DADDY SAYS I SHOULDNT
McEneaneyL: HE SAYS I AM CHEATING ON HIM
McEneaneyL: BUT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
McEneaneyL: OH MOMMY
McEneaneyL: DAMN!
McEneaneyL: NOW COOK ME DINNER
McEneaneyL: THE END
McEneaneyL: COPYRIGHT 2001
NgAitLy73: all rights reserved?
McEneaneyL: AS YOU CAN SEE, I WAS EXPERIMENTING WITH THE ART FORM
LogicFyi: by group w?
Bzumgexbyn: Musta left out the stanzas with the dog.
McEneaneyL: GOING AWAY FROM MY TRADITIONAL RHYME SCHEMES
McEneaneyL: AND EXPLORING MORE PERSONAL TERRITRY
LogicFyi: personal terriers?
McEneaneyL: YOU CAN SEE, I TRIED A LITTLE FREE VERSE
LogicFyi: it wasn't little enough
NgAitLy73: note: "tried"
Bzumgexbyn: You know, for real in-depth personal exploration, I recommend judicious placement of small quantities of high explosive.
McEneaneyL: OF COURSE, BY THE 11TH TRILOGY, I WAS ALMOST SOLIDLY USING BALLAD FORM ABAB VERSE
NgAitLy73: how about abba?
NgAitLy73: =)
McEneaneyL: BUT WE'LL GET TO THAT
McEneaneyL: SHUT UP
Bzumgexbyn: No, Abba's not explosive enough.
LogicFyi: how about babba booie?
NgAitLy73: Abba's cool
McEneaneyL: NG IF YOU CANT BE CONSTRUCTIVE, LEAVE
NgAitLy73: i can use contruction paper =)
LogicFyi: barely
NgAitLy73: but not scissors. i'm not allowed to touch scissors
XquisitObscurity: I agree with Mc...
LogicFyi: she can eat paste
NgAitLy73: who's she?
PinkishlyEvil: i cut with scissors today
LogicFyi: the lesbanoid
Bzumgexbyn: Hey, speakin' of not touching scissors: my brother's in the spin bin ag'in.
PinkishlyEvil: i cut the lemonade container thing.
NgAitLy73: o, of course
XquisitObscurity: spin bin?
McEneaneyL: THE SECOND POEM IN THE TRILOGY
LogicFyi: which reminds me of a joke - but nevermind that
XquisitObscurity: Not up on slang, I'm old...
McEneaneyL: IS CALLED "MY DADDY WAS A PISTOL AND I GOT SHOT IN THE BACK"
NgAitLy73: i find it amusing how he thinks we're listening
Bzumgexbyn: Aye, the spin bin, where you do a few orbits with the loonies.
XquisitObscurity: Ahhhhhh.
LogicFyi: i got shot in the debacle
McEneaneyL: I CAN'T WALK!
McEneaneyL: WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?
McEneaneyL: I CAN'T FEEL MY LEGS NO MORE
NgAitLy73: a debacle is like a problem...
AyMami76: i'm sorry u got shot sweety!
McEneaneyL: OH DADDY
LogicFyi: it's a part of a particle
Smokeyrunner16: poetry sucks unles its about the south
LogicFyi: a debacle
McEneaneyL: PEELING AWAY THE LAYERS OF THE ONION THAT IS LIFE
NgAitLy73: uh huh...
McEneaneyL: I SEE BENEATH MY SKIN
McEneaneyL: YOUR FELSH
McEneaneyL: YOUR BONES
JUJU2046: HELLO EVERYONE
McEneaneyL: YOUR NERVES
McEneaneyL: YOUR SPINE
LogicFyi: i'm done -
McEneaneyL: YOUR LARGE INTESTINES
Bzumgexbyn: Uh-oh, a metaphor, a metaphor, a metaphor.
McEneaneyL: YOUR SMALL INTESTINES
McEneaneyL: YOUR LIVER
McEneaneyL: YOUR KIDNEY
Smokeyrunner16: your eye
McEneaneyL: YOUR LUNGS
NgAitLy73: o no, onomatopoeia
McEneaneyL: YOUR HEART
McEneaneyL: YOUR WINKY WANG
Smokeyrunner16: your nuts
Smokeyrunner16: lol
McEneaneyL: YOUR CELLS
McEneaneyL: YOUR BRAIN
Smokeyrunner16: your shit
McEneaneyL: YOUR CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM
McEneaneyL: YOUR MUSCLES
Smokeyrunner16: your snot
McEneaneyL: EVERYTHING THAT MAKES YOU YOU HAS MADE ME
McEneaneyL: YOU MADE ME
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR BRAIN
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR LUNGS
Smokeyrunner16:with your nuts
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR HEART
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR BONES
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR EYES
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR NERVES
Smokeyrunner16: with your dick
McEneaneyL: WITH YOUR SPINE
XxDisturbededxX: smokey that's not nice
McEneaneyL: AND WITH - YOUR LOVE
McEneaneyL: THE NED
Bzumgexbyn:
McEneaneyL: COPYRIGHT 2001
Smokeyrunner16: al sshot up u fag
McEneaneyL: SHUT SMOKEY YOU PRISON BITCH
XxDisturbededxX: that was pretty
XxDisturbededxX: what i saw of it
McEneaneyL: THIS LAST POEM IN THE RILOGY
Bzumgexbyn: Did you misspell a word, Disturbed? Like, maybe 'grotesque,' or 'boring,' or 'excruciating?'
McEneaneyL: THANG YOU DISTURBED
McEneaneyL: THIS LAST POEM IN THE TRILOGY
XxDisturbededxX: i thought it was pretty
McEneaneyL: IS ABOUT MAN'S OTHER BEST FRIEND
McEneaneyL: OF COURSE, I EXPLORED HIS FIRST BEST FRIND IN "MY BIG DICK"
McEneaneyL: LOL
McEneaneyL: LOL
McEneaneyL: LMFAO
Cynicated: What's man's other best friend?
McEneaneyL: ROF
McEneaneyL: LOL
McEneaneyL: ROFLMAO
Bzumgexbyn: They'll both be together in this next poem, I'll wager.
McEneaneyL: OF COURSE, IM TALKING ABOUT MY DOG
Cynicated: People discourage me.
McEneaneyL: AND THUS, IVE WRITTEN A POEM ABOUT MY FIRST EVER DOG
McEneaneyL: IT'S CALLED "SIR WOOFERS"
McEneaneyL: OH SIR WOOFERS
McEneaneyL: I LOVED YOU SO MUCH
McEneaneyL: YOUR SILKY HAIR
Bzumgexbyn:
McEneaneyL: YOUR PAWS
Cynicated: Yes.
McEneaneyL: I FEED YOU A MLIK BONE
Cynicated: I expect much, too much of people.
McEneaneyL: AND YOU EAT IT EAGERLY
Cynicated: I'm always disappointed.
McEneaneyL: MOMMY AND DADDY ONLY HAVE ENOUGH MONEY
McEneaneyL: TO FEED YOU MEAGERLY
Cynicated: It's a tiny bit of optimism that just fucking won't die.
McEneaneyL: IF I COULD TAKE THE STARS FROM THE SKY
McEneaneyL: AND SPIN THEM LIKE
McEneaneyL: YARN
Cynicated: [hehe, my grammar was terrible in that last "sentence."]
McEneaneyL: I WOULD GIVE THE SEATER I KNOT TO ANYONE
McEneaneyL: EXCUSE ME, I WAOULD GIVE THE SWEATER I KNIT TO ANYONE
McEneaneyL: NOT TO HAVE GOTTEN CAUGHT FUCKING YOU BEHIND THE BARN
McEneaneyL: THE END
McEneaneyL: COPYRIGHT 2001
Bzumgexbyn: I am still struggling with it. Do I have the sense of it if I read it: "Fucking makes it worth sticking around for a while longer yet."?
McEneaneyL: ALL RIGHS RESERVED
McEneaneyL: NO NEED TO TAHNK ME
McEneaneyL: I WILL ACCEPT NOTES ON TRILOGY 2 NOW
McEneaneyL: HEY - WHERE DID EVERYONE OG?
Cynicated: No.
McEneaneyL: THERE'S ONLY FIVE OF US LEFT NOW!!!
XxDisturbededxX: i'm here
Cynicated: Just get rid of the fucking.
XxDisturbededxX: putting finishing touches on a poem
Cynicated: and, it almost makes sense.
McEneaneyL: ANY NOTES?
McEneaneyL: CYNICA, I DONT TRUST YOU
Cynicated: Stop writing, McEneaneyL.
McEneaneyL: SEE?
Cynicated: Good boy. You shouldn't trust me.
Bzumgexbyn: Oh, I got it now. You had 'optimism' as a thing that could die.
Cynicated: Yes. I just had it in a terrible place.
McEneaneyL: THAT'S RIGHT BZUM, THE DOG REPRESENTS MY YOUTHFUL OPTIMISM
McEneaneyL: AND IT DIED
McEneaneyL: GOOD POINT!
XxDisturbededxX: ok it's done
McEneaneyL: SEE, PEOPLE, EVEN GAY GUYS CAN APPRECIATE GOOD POETRY!
McEneaneyL: GO AHEAD DISTURBED
McEneaneyL: SHARE YOUR POEM
McEneaneyL: BEFORE I READ TRILGY 3
XxDisturbededxX: um me?
Cynicated: I have to pee. I'll be right back.
McEneaneyL: CYNICA, THATS DISGUSTING!
XxDisturbededxX: ok i guess
McEneaneyL: GO AHEAD!
XxDisturbededxX: You are snotty, arrogant, and selfish
Bzumgexbyn: I'll have a butt in the back yard. Enjoy the straight line, McE. I'll be back to read it in a few minutes.
McEneaneyL: UH HUH
McEneaneyL: KEEP GOING DISTURBED
XxDisturbededxX: you believe you're definition of perfection
McEneaneyL: YES!
McEneaneyL: DEFINITIONS, LIKE A DICTIONARY
McEneaneyL: KEEP GOING!
XxDisturbededxX: i realize now, that you could never love me as much as you love yourself
McEneaneyL: IF YOU PRINT THIS, YOU MIGHT ACTUALLY WANT TO PHOTOCOPY THE DEFINITON OF PERFECTION FROM THE DICTIONARY
XxDisturbededxX: so i'm leaving you and all the pain you have given me
XxDisturbededxX: I'm tellin gyou now
XxDisturbededxX: I'm walking away
McEneaneyL: AND PRINT IT SIDE-BY-SIDE WITH THE POEM
XxDisturbededxX: I'm saying my last goodbye
McEneaneyL: WALKING AWAY NOT RUNNING
McEneaneyL: GOOD
XxDisturbededxX: and i will forever stay away
McEneaneyL: A LOT OF VISUAL IMAGERY GOIUNG ON
XxDisturbededxX: um you have issues
XxDisturbededxX: serious ones
McEneaneyL: ALL RIGHT, YOPUR POEM BORES ME NOW
McEneaneyL: MY TURN AGAN
XxDisturbededxX: ok have fun
NgAitLy73: umm...yay?
McEneaneyL: DISTURBED WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE THAT WAY?
McEneaneyL: DONT BE A BABY
Bzumgexbyn: back
XxDisturbededxX: me? baby?
McEneaneyL: IM TRYING TO BE SUPPIRTIVE
XxDisturbededxX: i'm not the one talking about fucking dogs
McEneaneyL: AND YOU KEEP SHOOTING ME DOWN
Bzumgexbyn: I'm having a beer. Tecate. It's made not more than a handful of miles from here.
XxDisturbededxX: i just said you have issues
McEneaneyL: IT'S ALMOST LIKE YOU DONT WANT ANYONE TO HELP YOU
Bzumgexbyn: (sips)
NgAitLy73: i like how he's trying to act innocent
Bzumgexbyn: It travels very badly.
NgAitLy73: o, i forgot to add 'dis-' in there
Cynicated: There's ink on my lip.
McEneaneyL: DISTURBED, HOW DARE YOU?
Bzumgexbyn: That's not surprising, but it oddly rousing.
McEneaneyL: I TREATED YOU LIKE THE DAUGHTER I NEVER HAD
KF Super17: heh
XxDisturbededxX: um like i said
McEneaneyL: GREETINGS NEWCOMERS
XxDisturbededxX: serious issues
McEneaneyL: WELCOME TO MY ROOM
NgAitLy73: passive entered the room
Raven Nighthawke: what kind of chat is this?
XxDisturbededxX: you know you might want to get that mind checked out
NgAitLy73: random
McEneaneyL: IT IS A ROOM FOR ME TO READ MY POETRY
Cynicated: I can't find my smokes.
Cynicated: Oooh. This song is epic.
KF Super17: A room for u????
McEneaneyL: MY NEXT TRILOGY
KF Super17: hahah
Raven Nighthawke: can others share poetry?
McEneaneyL: WHEN IM DONE WITH MY TRILOGIES, RAVEN
McEneaneyL: DISTURBED RUINED IT FOR EVERYBODY
Passiveslv4u: this is an open room Raven,
KF Super17: Don't make me laugh
Passiveslv4u: Hi Gait
McEneaneyL: THIS NEXT TRILOGY IS CALLED "THE SCHOOL DAZED TRILOGY"
SnowGurlie8: hey
Bzumgexbyn: Type, oh, type, thou most fearless of poets. Breast the wave of all-caps foamspew and
(PORTION OF THE TRANSCRIPT MISSING)
NgAitLy73: ...he shouldn't go to health class, then
McEneaneyL: AM I A MASTER?
Bzumgexbyn: Ng, I don't think you're his type: too civil, by half.
McEneaneyL: SERIOUSLY, YES I AM. WHY?
NgAitLy73: but don't use it as an insult
Jloosedaone: really???
McEneaneyL: YES. WHY?
Jloosedaone: how is that?
McEneaneyL: IT FEELS GOO. WHY?
Bzumgexbyn: Hey, Ng, you gotta use what stings. Clearly, to McE, it's a loaded notion.
NgAitLy73: nonetheless, don't use it as an insult
McEneaneyL: WHY, JLOOSE?
Jloosedaone: then u must challenge me in a private room to a poetic duel
NgAitLy73: do we go around calling ppl niggers?
NgAitLy73: no bc we respect black ppl, and we're openminded about diff. races
McEneaneyL: UM, IF I WERE GAY I'D BE HAPPY TO TRIP OFF TO A PRIVATE ROOM WIHT YOU
NgAitLy73: so y not sexualities?
Xobyar: hello
Jloosedaone: prove yourself
Dreamerz2003: hi all
Jloosedaone: i am not gay!!
Passiveslv4u: oh no, not another Challenge
McEneaneyL: I JUST DID FOR THE LAST HALF-HOUR, ASSHOLE
Bzumgexbyn: Only where that word has the right impact. If I refer to you, it'd be as "Ng," not as
McEneaneyL: JLOOSE, YO PROBABLY WANT TO GET ME ALONE TO TELL ME POEMS
Jloosedaone: i was not here
McEneaneyL: ABOUT SLATHERING MY BODY WITH WHIPPED CREAM
Jloosedaone: not!!
Jloosedaone: hell nooooo!!!
Bzumgexbyn: "Queen Ng." I've no reason to think that having your orientation referred to would sting you, if I said it.
NgAitLy73: no, do you understand that the use of a word that refers to a homosexual is then seens as an insult to all homosexuals
McEneaneyL: YOU PROBABLY READ MY POEM ABOUT MY BIG DICK AND GOT ALL EXCITED
Jloosedaone: i am a master and i hold that record!!
NgAitLy73: the use of the same word then indirectly condescends that entire community
McEneaneyL: THE ONLY THING YOU HOLD IS YOUR BOYFRIEND'S DICK IN YOUR MOUTH
NgAitLy73: whether you mean it or not
Jloosedaone: u must be gay!!
Bzumgexbyn: Nah, I see that people will take offense at what it pleases them to take offense at--but sometimes it's possible to offend deliberately.
McEneaneyL: PLEASE, JLOOSE, DONT BE MAD BECAUSE I HOLD THE MIRROR OF TRUTH UP TO YOU
NgAitLy73: no, it is like another form of ignorance
NgAitLy73: just use another word
McEneaneyL: NG - SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
PallidDollKisses:hello
Jloosedaone: u r far beneath the realms of a real master bitch!!!
McEneaneyL: IM TALKING ABOUT BEAUTY HERE, NOT HURTFUL WORDS
Bzumgexbyn: Nonsense, Ng. If I let you hold my tongue, what respect can either of us have for the other?
NgAitLy73: y, Mc, your brain doesn't work at that high of a level?
McEneaneyL: JLOOSE, LET'S SEE ONE OF YOUR POEMS, ASSHOLE
NgAitLy73: tell me, do you use the word 'nigger' as an insult?
Jloosedaone: no u r not worthy
McEneaneyL: COWARD
NgAitLy73: or any other word that is deliberately linked to another race?
McEneaneyL: GOODBYE ALL
SnowGurlie8: omg...wtf are you people mad about!!1
McEneaneyL: MY WIFE IS LATE WITH DINNER AGAIN
Jloosedaone: why do u call out your name like that!!?
McEneaneyL: AND MUST BE DISCIPLINED
NgAitLy73: y is it that 'gay' and 'faggot' are practically the only ones used?
Bzumgexbyn: Rarely, Ng. I don't have that many occasions to use the term. "Nigger," as I use it,
McEneaneyL: LOL
Jloosedaone: your dog?
Bzumgexbyn: is a pretty TIGHT definition.
Coolcory28034468: anyone got good sad poems?
Wednesday, July 24, 2002
SORRY QUDSIA
Your sonnet is going to have to wait until Friday. I've been pretty busy. Please don't hate me.
SORRY, GENTLE READER
I just read yesterday's entry, and I have to say it was the kind of poorly-written, self-indulgent, uninteresting slice-of-life bullhockey that has earned the blogging community a bad rep. I apologise. If it makes you feel any better, it was written on one hour's sleep while listening to the building handyman rip out the plumbing in my bathroom and completely replace it, which meant that I had to shower at the gym for two days in a row. I am in a bad mood.
PORN IN THE USA
For my show at PSNBC last week, I had to buy a porn mag. SHUT UP! IT WAS JUST A PROP!
Anyway, for the joke to have an effect, it had to be a fairly sleazy magazine, so I picked up a copy of Barely 18. Now, I'm no fan of porn, and I really don't read or watch porn. No really, it's true; porn's just something I haven't been into since I was 17.
But Barely 18 is one of the greatest things I've ever read for one reason:
They have a feature called "Model Mail." How this works is, next to every picture of a naked woman, there's an address where the reader can mail a fan letter. Then they print the readers' letters along with a "reply" from the woman, clearly made up by the editors.
This is the most brilliant idea in magazines ever. Let's see your vaunted Harold Ross think up something like that, eh?
Here are some of my favorite "Model Mail" moments (with my commentary in italics):
"Dear Chelsea,
"My name is Manuel. I am a 28 year-old Mexican American born in San Jose, California. I am in good shape.
Of course he's in good shape. Any guy who spends so much time reading Barely 18 magazine that he's corresponding with one of the models is clearly an outdoorsy, fun-in-the-sun type of guy.
"I like to ride my mountain bike for fun. Also, I go bowling, camping, and I love to go to the movies. I'm an outdoors kind of guy.
See what I mean? By the way, not only does this sound like a personal ad, it sounds like such a dreadful personal ad that no one would answer it. At least the psychos and inmates {see letters below} have a personal style.
"What do you like to do for fun?
Dude, she's posing naked for magazines like Barely 18. So first of all, since you've already seen her spread, I think the time for small talk and getting-to-know-you is over. Secondly, unless you want to hear about things like "rolling drunks in an alley" and "shooting smack in a Port Authority bathroom," this might not be the best line of conversation.
"Manuel G., San Jose CA"
I like a dude who's such a smooth talker that his come-ons sound like a fifth grade report on "What I Did Over Summer Vacation."
Chelsea replied:
"Dear Manuel,
"I spend most of my days locked in my basement with a dildo. I masturbate a lot...
"I don't currently have a job, but when I do, I masturbate constantly at work...
"The biggest turn-on I have ever had was during a business meeting when I worked as a secretary for a law firm. About 35 men and women were seated around a huge conference table. I put my vibrator on low, put it between my legs and had multiple orgasms while everyone around me was being completely business-like...
Unfortunately, I got fired about a week later."
Gee, you think? The best part of this, er, tear-jerker, is that this story of long years of experience in the business world is coming from a girl who is allegedly BARELY 18.
Yes, Vaginia, there is no Santa Claus.
"Dear Tandra,
"How are you?
I love the image of Tandra reading this, going "Fine, thanks! Oh, wait, it's just a printed letter. D'oh!"
"I ponder at times, thinking back to the beginning of Adam and Eve when people had no clothes on, I feel in my heart that people would be more respectful of life if we would all be naked. But looking at you in Barely 18. I see a strangely beautiful Nubian Queen from the Seven Seas.
You know, sometimes I feel bad about my awkwardness with women. It's nice to see someone with less "game" than me. I don't know what's weirder about this statement, the fact that the guy feels the need to give Tandra a noncompliment like "strangely beautiful," or the fact that he somehow places Tandra from "the Seven Seas." Perhaps she is one of the merfolk.
"Tandra, you symbolize an inner world of fantasy, a moment of time spinning love's amatory signals. You control my mind. You make the sun rise and set. You control my mind. You are a vision to behold in slow motion, like a deep potion intertwining my mind into a land of ecstasy.
What they don't tell us is that this letter was written on seven large sheets of cardboard, with illustrations in red crayon.
"Right now, I'm fucking you with ink.
" - John Z., Atlanta GA"
Tandra better get hold of this guy, because all the good men are usually taken or gay!
I guess this letter even freaked out the editors of Barely 18, and they get a lot of mail from correctional facilities. Tandra's "reply" was a short:
"I hope to visit you on the astral plane one evening."
"Dear Hailey,
"I'm just dropping a few short lines for now, baby. I'm housed at Angola Louisiana State Penitentiary which is known as the baddest penitentiary in the South.
I've got to interrupt here and say that when I retyped these letters, I realized that the editors must have made a LOT of corrections before publishing them. I can only imagine the large, seven story, drab-grey metal industrial-strength spellchecker they needed to use, with vacuum tubes popping, sparks flying, and smoke billowing.
"But don't let that scare you.
No, please let the following shit scare you:
"I have been here for 15 years for a crime that I didn't do. I was on death row for 10 years, I came within 10 minutes of my death, but the governor stopped it because there was no evidence on the gun that killed the man.
And we all know that that is the same as being innocent.
"So I received 10 years for two aggravated fights and the murder charges were dismissed.
"I am a loving, caring, charming and intelligent man with a beautiful personality.
As is practically everyone on Death Row. I've seen "The Green Mile," I know what goes down. By the way, how "aggravated" do a couple of fights have to be where you receive ten years for them? Hell, my sister's gotten under my skin once ortwice, but still, I managed to avoid jail time.
"I love to play sports like tennis, basketball and baseball. I also like to take long walks on the beaches of California and Florida. I have two five bedroom houses in California and Florida, both of which are paid for because of the lawsuit I won on the death row case. I won $3 million. My sisters are keeping the houses until I get out.
The above would make the most kickass Village Voice Personal in history. I would leave a message in his box.
"When I get out, I can wiggle my tongue inside your pretty asshole and have you come all over yourself. And I would eat your pussy for hours so you could come all over me. I love eating pussy.
What a beautiful mind! He's a regular John Nash! Actually, he does kind of sound like Russell Crowe.
"Kerry D, Baton Rouge LA"
Hailey replies:
"The best thing about a man is when the man has money. Don't let your sisters spend it all before you get out, baby. Save some for me! My pussy and I will be waiting!"
Sadly, I believe this response could be true.
|
Your sonnet is going to have to wait until Friday. I've been pretty busy. Please don't hate me.
SORRY, GENTLE READER
I just read yesterday's entry, and I have to say it was the kind of poorly-written, self-indulgent, uninteresting slice-of-life bullhockey that has earned the blogging community a bad rep. I apologise. If it makes you feel any better, it was written on one hour's sleep while listening to the building handyman rip out the plumbing in my bathroom and completely replace it, which meant that I had to shower at the gym for two days in a row. I am in a bad mood.
PORN IN THE USA
For my show at PSNBC last week, I had to buy a porn mag. SHUT UP! IT WAS JUST A PROP!
Anyway, for the joke to have an effect, it had to be a fairly sleazy magazine, so I picked up a copy of Barely 18. Now, I'm no fan of porn, and I really don't read or watch porn. No really, it's true; porn's just something I haven't been into since I was 17.
But Barely 18 is one of the greatest things I've ever read for one reason:
They have a feature called "Model Mail." How this works is, next to every picture of a naked woman, there's an address where the reader can mail a fan letter. Then they print the readers' letters along with a "reply" from the woman, clearly made up by the editors.
This is the most brilliant idea in magazines ever. Let's see your vaunted Harold Ross think up something like that, eh?
Here are some of my favorite "Model Mail" moments (with my commentary in italics):
"Dear Chelsea,
"My name is Manuel. I am a 28 year-old Mexican American born in San Jose, California. I am in good shape.
Of course he's in good shape. Any guy who spends so much time reading Barely 18 magazine that he's corresponding with one of the models is clearly an outdoorsy, fun-in-the-sun type of guy.
"I like to ride my mountain bike for fun. Also, I go bowling, camping, and I love to go to the movies. I'm an outdoors kind of guy.
See what I mean? By the way, not only does this sound like a personal ad, it sounds like such a dreadful personal ad that no one would answer it. At least the psychos and inmates {see letters below} have a personal style.
"What do you like to do for fun?
Dude, she's posing naked for magazines like Barely 18. So first of all, since you've already seen her spread, I think the time for small talk and getting-to-know-you is over. Secondly, unless you want to hear about things like "rolling drunks in an alley" and "shooting smack in a Port Authority bathroom," this might not be the best line of conversation.
"Manuel G., San Jose CA"
I like a dude who's such a smooth talker that his come-ons sound like a fifth grade report on "What I Did Over Summer Vacation."
Chelsea replied:
"Dear Manuel,
"I spend most of my days locked in my basement with a dildo. I masturbate a lot...
"I don't currently have a job, but when I do, I masturbate constantly at work...
"The biggest turn-on I have ever had was during a business meeting when I worked as a secretary for a law firm. About 35 men and women were seated around a huge conference table. I put my vibrator on low, put it between my legs and had multiple orgasms while everyone around me was being completely business-like...
Unfortunately, I got fired about a week later."
Gee, you think? The best part of this, er, tear-jerker, is that this story of long years of experience in the business world is coming from a girl who is allegedly BARELY 18.
Yes, Vaginia, there is no Santa Claus.
"Dear Tandra,
"How are you?
I love the image of Tandra reading this, going "Fine, thanks! Oh, wait, it's just a printed letter. D'oh!"
"I ponder at times, thinking back to the beginning of Adam and Eve when people had no clothes on, I feel in my heart that people would be more respectful of life if we would all be naked. But looking at you in Barely 18. I see a strangely beautiful Nubian Queen from the Seven Seas.
You know, sometimes I feel bad about my awkwardness with women. It's nice to see someone with less "game" than me. I don't know what's weirder about this statement, the fact that the guy feels the need to give Tandra a noncompliment like "strangely beautiful," or the fact that he somehow places Tandra from "the Seven Seas." Perhaps she is one of the merfolk.
"Tandra, you symbolize an inner world of fantasy, a moment of time spinning love's amatory signals. You control my mind. You make the sun rise and set. You control my mind. You are a vision to behold in slow motion, like a deep potion intertwining my mind into a land of ecstasy.
What they don't tell us is that this letter was written on seven large sheets of cardboard, with illustrations in red crayon.
"Right now, I'm fucking you with ink.
" - John Z., Atlanta GA"
Tandra better get hold of this guy, because all the good men are usually taken or gay!
I guess this letter even freaked out the editors of Barely 18, and they get a lot of mail from correctional facilities. Tandra's "reply" was a short:
"I hope to visit you on the astral plane one evening."
"Dear Hailey,
"I'm just dropping a few short lines for now, baby. I'm housed at Angola Louisiana State Penitentiary which is known as the baddest penitentiary in the South.
I've got to interrupt here and say that when I retyped these letters, I realized that the editors must have made a LOT of corrections before publishing them. I can only imagine the large, seven story, drab-grey metal industrial-strength spellchecker they needed to use, with vacuum tubes popping, sparks flying, and smoke billowing.
"But don't let that scare you.
No, please let the following shit scare you:
"I have been here for 15 years for a crime that I didn't do. I was on death row for 10 years, I came within 10 minutes of my death, but the governor stopped it because there was no evidence on the gun that killed the man.
And we all know that that is the same as being innocent.
"So I received 10 years for two aggravated fights and the murder charges were dismissed.
"I am a loving, caring, charming and intelligent man with a beautiful personality.
As is practically everyone on Death Row. I've seen "The Green Mile," I know what goes down. By the way, how "aggravated" do a couple of fights have to be where you receive ten years for them? Hell, my sister's gotten under my skin once ortwice, but still, I managed to avoid jail time.
"I love to play sports like tennis, basketball and baseball. I also like to take long walks on the beaches of California and Florida. I have two five bedroom houses in California and Florida, both of which are paid for because of the lawsuit I won on the death row case. I won $3 million. My sisters are keeping the houses until I get out.
The above would make the most kickass Village Voice Personal in history. I would leave a message in his box.
"When I get out, I can wiggle my tongue inside your pretty asshole and have you come all over yourself. And I would eat your pussy for hours so you could come all over me. I love eating pussy.
What a beautiful mind! He's a regular John Nash! Actually, he does kind of sound like Russell Crowe.
"Kerry D, Baton Rouge LA"
Hailey replies:
"The best thing about a man is when the man has money. Don't let your sisters spend it all before you get out, baby. Save some for me! My pussy and I will be waiting!"
Sadly, I believe this response could be true.
Tuesday, July 23, 2002
LADY MIX-A-LOT
I was going through some stuff, and I found an old cassette. Apparently, my sister had made a mix tape some time when she was a teenager and never took it with her to college. So I thoguht I'd give it a listen. Here are my notes:
First of all, the tape was titled "Season of the Witch," which you know is going to be an awesome mix tape right there, when you actually name it after a shitty Donovan song. Also on the label after the title, she'd written "(SIDE A)," which makes sense. You don't want to look at the tape, see "SIDE A," and then while you're reading the label completely forget which side of the tape you're about to play. I can't tell you how many times I've accidentally rewound an entire side of a mix tape just to get to "I Touch Myself," onl;y to find that GODDAMMIT, I was on (SIDE A) in the first place! Because, if you tear your eyes off of the label and move them that millimeter to check the side you're on, you totally forget the name of the tape. Suddenly I forget, and I'm like, "Is this my 'Stop Smoking Now! Hypnosis Tape'?" (Don't worry ladies, I don't smoke. I just enjoy the sound of soothing ocean waves.)
By the way, in case you're curious, the other side was labeled, "SEASON OF THE WITCH (SIDE B)."
So I took a listen, and apparently my sister had recorded some favorite tracks from my parents' record collection. Here's a run-down of some of those songs:
Season of the Witch, Mellow Yellow Donovan is one of those great artists for inspiring young people to get into music. Because a lot of the time, you'll hear a great singer/songwriter, and they make their craft seem so easy and effortless that you think, "I can do that," and then you try it and find out that it's really hard. But with Donovan, I really can do that, because he does expend so little effort in writing music. I mean, "I'm just wild about Saffron, she's just wild about me, I'm just wild about Saffron, she's just wild about me, they call me Mellow Yellow - quite rightly"? You might as well just record yourself taking a dump on a pile of vinyl and sell that.
Now, I admit, Donovan is one of those singer/songwriters that I can listen to, if only because I find his stuff so horrific that it's entrancing. I don't know if any of you have seen the Bob Dylan documentary, Don't Look Back (I know you have, Julie Ana Klausner, if you are indeed reading this blog), but it follows Dylan on a tour of England in 1965. Dylan spends a lot of time obsessing over Donovan's increasing popularity as a Dylan rip-off. And it doesn't make you think, "Man, Donovan wa so good that even Dylan was intimidated." No, you think, "How fucking insecure was this man?"
Still, that hotel room party scene was both painful and funny, kind of like in a drawing-room comedy when the "wit" is ripping into a humble simpleton servant. If you haven't seen it, what happens is, Donovan's been invited to Dylan's hotel room for a party. Everyone's sitting around, listening to Donovan play some fucking Donovan song. Dylan looks completely tense and miserable, just really drawn into himself. At one point, he tries to interrupt the guy by saying, "That was great man," halfway through the song. And the camera watches Dylan for the length of the entire song, just looking like he's hating life. FInally, Donovan finishes, and Dylan asks for the guitar. He then rips into a vicious and very pointed version of "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue." Really putting emphasis on lyrics like, "You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last," And "Standing in the clothes that you once wore." After the song ends, everyone pretty much ignores Donovan, who says, to no one in particular, "I once knew a girl named Baby Blue." It was a genuine moment filled with pathos and humour and cruelty.
Anyway.
The tape is mostly classic rock hits. Strange Brew, Bad Moon Rising, etc.
Blueberry Hill closes out (SIDE A), and I was listening to this thinking, "This sounds really weird." That's when I realized, it was the Pat Boone version. Which is funny, because my parents never owned any Pat Boone records, and for good reason. Pat Boone was a man who made a lot of money off of rock music, but he clearly hated it. He tried to record "Ain't That A Shame" as "Isn't That A Shame," because as a former English teacher, he didn't want to teach kids bad grammar. What a tool!
So I listen to this and I think, "Jesus, how much whiter does this album get?"
Sure enough, (SIDE B) starts with American Pie. And then that godawful Don McClean Van Gogh song.
(SIDE B) gets weirder though, with a Ray Charles cover of the John Denver song Country Roads. It's as if my sister were saying, "I'd like to acknowledge the craziness of including the whitest cover ever of a great song, with a jazzy cover of the whitest song ever." Too bad she made this tape before detached irony became hip, or she could have gotten away it.
The tape closes out, of course, with Kenny Rogers' The Gambler. Now, I'm not going to take my parents to task for owning a Kenny Rogers album, let alone buying it strictly for the The Gambler. I just think it's funny that my sister said, "Okay, I started off with Donovan, went to Pat Boone and Don McClean. Now it's time to bring it all full circle with a little Kenny." Especially since the tape still had a good ten minutes after The Gambler ends, which meant she could have inserted a Carly Simon song, maybe, or a little Dr. John.
But she said, "No, Kenny Rogers completes the Circle of White, you can only ruin a great work of art by adding too much to it."
By the way, if you want a copy of Laura McEneaney's "SEASON OF THE WITCH (SIDES A + B)," it can be yours for a mere five dollars. E-mail me for more details.
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I was going through some stuff, and I found an old cassette. Apparently, my sister had made a mix tape some time when she was a teenager and never took it with her to college. So I thoguht I'd give it a listen. Here are my notes:
First of all, the tape was titled "Season of the Witch," which you know is going to be an awesome mix tape right there, when you actually name it after a shitty Donovan song. Also on the label after the title, she'd written "(SIDE A)," which makes sense. You don't want to look at the tape, see "SIDE A," and then while you're reading the label completely forget which side of the tape you're about to play. I can't tell you how many times I've accidentally rewound an entire side of a mix tape just to get to "I Touch Myself," onl;y to find that GODDAMMIT, I was on (SIDE A) in the first place! Because, if you tear your eyes off of the label and move them that millimeter to check the side you're on, you totally forget the name of the tape. Suddenly I forget, and I'm like, "Is this my 'Stop Smoking Now! Hypnosis Tape'?" (Don't worry ladies, I don't smoke. I just enjoy the sound of soothing ocean waves.)
By the way, in case you're curious, the other side was labeled, "SEASON OF THE WITCH (SIDE B)."
So I took a listen, and apparently my sister had recorded some favorite tracks from my parents' record collection. Here's a run-down of some of those songs:
Season of the Witch, Mellow Yellow Donovan is one of those great artists for inspiring young people to get into music. Because a lot of the time, you'll hear a great singer/songwriter, and they make their craft seem so easy and effortless that you think, "I can do that," and then you try it and find out that it's really hard. But with Donovan, I really can do that, because he does expend so little effort in writing music. I mean, "I'm just wild about Saffron, she's just wild about me, I'm just wild about Saffron, she's just wild about me, they call me Mellow Yellow - quite rightly"? You might as well just record yourself taking a dump on a pile of vinyl and sell that.
Now, I admit, Donovan is one of those singer/songwriters that I can listen to, if only because I find his stuff so horrific that it's entrancing. I don't know if any of you have seen the Bob Dylan documentary, Don't Look Back (I know you have, Julie Ana Klausner, if you are indeed reading this blog), but it follows Dylan on a tour of England in 1965. Dylan spends a lot of time obsessing over Donovan's increasing popularity as a Dylan rip-off. And it doesn't make you think, "Man, Donovan wa so good that even Dylan was intimidated." No, you think, "How fucking insecure was this man?"
Still, that hotel room party scene was both painful and funny, kind of like in a drawing-room comedy when the "wit" is ripping into a humble simpleton servant. If you haven't seen it, what happens is, Donovan's been invited to Dylan's hotel room for a party. Everyone's sitting around, listening to Donovan play some fucking Donovan song. Dylan looks completely tense and miserable, just really drawn into himself. At one point, he tries to interrupt the guy by saying, "That was great man," halfway through the song. And the camera watches Dylan for the length of the entire song, just looking like he's hating life. FInally, Donovan finishes, and Dylan asks for the guitar. He then rips into a vicious and very pointed version of "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue." Really putting emphasis on lyrics like, "You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last," And "Standing in the clothes that you once wore." After the song ends, everyone pretty much ignores Donovan, who says, to no one in particular, "I once knew a girl named Baby Blue." It was a genuine moment filled with pathos and humour and cruelty.
Anyway.
The tape is mostly classic rock hits. Strange Brew, Bad Moon Rising, etc.
Blueberry Hill closes out (SIDE A), and I was listening to this thinking, "This sounds really weird." That's when I realized, it was the Pat Boone version. Which is funny, because my parents never owned any Pat Boone records, and for good reason. Pat Boone was a man who made a lot of money off of rock music, but he clearly hated it. He tried to record "Ain't That A Shame" as "Isn't That A Shame," because as a former English teacher, he didn't want to teach kids bad grammar. What a tool!
So I listen to this and I think, "Jesus, how much whiter does this album get?"
Sure enough, (SIDE B) starts with American Pie. And then that godawful Don McClean Van Gogh song.
(SIDE B) gets weirder though, with a Ray Charles cover of the John Denver song Country Roads. It's as if my sister were saying, "I'd like to acknowledge the craziness of including the whitest cover ever of a great song, with a jazzy cover of the whitest song ever." Too bad she made this tape before detached irony became hip, or she could have gotten away it.
The tape closes out, of course, with Kenny Rogers' The Gambler. Now, I'm not going to take my parents to task for owning a Kenny Rogers album, let alone buying it strictly for the The Gambler. I just think it's funny that my sister said, "Okay, I started off with Donovan, went to Pat Boone and Don McClean. Now it's time to bring it all full circle with a little Kenny." Especially since the tape still had a good ten minutes after The Gambler ends, which meant she could have inserted a Carly Simon song, maybe, or a little Dr. John.
But she said, "No, Kenny Rogers completes the Circle of White, you can only ruin a great work of art by adding too much to it."
By the way, if you want a copy of Laura McEneaney's "SEASON OF THE WITCH (SIDES A + B)," it can be yours for a mere five dollars. E-mail me for more details.
Monday, July 22, 2002
PLEASE FILL IN THIS BLANK - it's driving me crazy
"So I says, ___________, I says, monsters lead such interesting lives."
Thank you, the mind you save may be your own.
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"So I says, ___________, I says, monsters lead such interesting lives."
Thank you, the mind you save may be your own.
THOUGHT FOR TODAY
Why is it that the guys with the least sense of personal space also have the worst BO?
NO, NO, THANK YOU
I was leaving my bank after using the ATM machine, and I was pushing the door open. Outside there was a very large woman, and what must have been her slightly larger sister. As I've almost got the door open, the woman pulls it open the last quarter inch. Then, the two seperate by about an inch so that I can almost pass through. As I pass through, the woman says very sarcastically, "You're welcome."
All right, you know what? That was not a "You're welcome" situation. What am I supposed to say? "Thank you for almost not being in my way"? "It was awesome, the way you didn't completely inconvenience me. I mean, you did inconvenience me, butn ot as badly as you could have, which is awesome."
But since she did say, "You're welcome," I figured I had to reply in kind, so I said, "What a friendly bank. The doorman welcomes you as you leave."
GET LAID, GET FUCKED!*
Speaking of banks, Citibank has this really weird ad campaign where the attitude is like, "Life's too short to worry about money." I think the ad line is something like, "Live richly." And they say, "Yeah, just leave your money with us and don't worry about it. There's more important things in life to worry about."
And now Chase's ad campaign is all about, "We have a great relationship." They have these ads that say things like, "You know it's a good relationship because you see our number on Caller ID and still pick up." Something like that, but I'm sure not as snappy or concise, because I write brilliant copy.
But here's my question; who the hell wants a banker that's your buddy and doesn't care about money. Seriously, give me a money-grubbing bastard whose every waking thought is about protecting my money.
Because, let's be honest; I love "It's A Wonderful Life," and just like everyone, I root for George Bailey. But I'll be damned if I wouldn't have done all my banking with Potter. Who the hell wants to trust his paycheck with a guy who sends someone like Uncle Billy with the week's deposits? If it wasn't for George running interference, that guy would have been in an asylum!
I mean, Potter might have been a sleaveball, but when Bailey found out what life would have been like if he'd never been born, we discovered that Potter actually knew how to make good investments.
I don't want want to get off on a rant here, but...
* Reference to the Billy Idol version of "Money Money," where people listening to it would chant "Get laid, get fucked!" during the chorus. Ahhh, those crazy crazy '80s.
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Why is it that the guys with the least sense of personal space also have the worst BO?
NO, NO, THANK YOU
I was leaving my bank after using the ATM machine, and I was pushing the door open. Outside there was a very large woman, and what must have been her slightly larger sister. As I've almost got the door open, the woman pulls it open the last quarter inch. Then, the two seperate by about an inch so that I can almost pass through. As I pass through, the woman says very sarcastically, "You're welcome."
All right, you know what? That was not a "You're welcome" situation. What am I supposed to say? "Thank you for almost not being in my way"? "It was awesome, the way you didn't completely inconvenience me. I mean, you did inconvenience me, butn ot as badly as you could have, which is awesome."
But since she did say, "You're welcome," I figured I had to reply in kind, so I said, "What a friendly bank. The doorman welcomes you as you leave."
GET LAID, GET FUCKED!*
Speaking of banks, Citibank has this really weird ad campaign where the attitude is like, "Life's too short to worry about money." I think the ad line is something like, "Live richly." And they say, "Yeah, just leave your money with us and don't worry about it. There's more important things in life to worry about."
And now Chase's ad campaign is all about, "We have a great relationship." They have these ads that say things like, "You know it's a good relationship because you see our number on Caller ID and still pick up." Something like that, but I'm sure not as snappy or concise, because I write brilliant copy.
But here's my question; who the hell wants a banker that's your buddy and doesn't care about money. Seriously, give me a money-grubbing bastard whose every waking thought is about protecting my money.
Because, let's be honest; I love "It's A Wonderful Life," and just like everyone, I root for George Bailey. But I'll be damned if I wouldn't have done all my banking with Potter. Who the hell wants to trust his paycheck with a guy who sends someone like Uncle Billy with the week's deposits? If it wasn't for George running interference, that guy would have been in an asylum!
I mean, Potter might have been a sleaveball, but when Bailey found out what life would have been like if he'd never been born, we discovered that Potter actually knew how to make good investments.
I don't want want to get off on a rant here, but...
* Reference to the Billy Idol version of "Money Money," where people listening to it would chant "Get laid, get fucked!" during the chorus. Ahhh, those crazy crazy '80s.
Sunday, July 21, 2002
THE SONNET WRITING CHALLENGE MARCHES ON
This week, for Qudsia, I write a sonnet for Agnes Scott College, whatever the hell that is (a trade school?).
Whatever, expect it by Wednesday (Friday the latest).
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This week, for Qudsia, I write a sonnet for Agnes Scott College, whatever the hell that is (a trade school?).
Whatever, expect it by Wednesday (Friday the latest).
POSSIBLE DRAG NAMES
* Ima Mann
* Val Pak
* Mike Oxtuckedunder
* Tiny Turner (Tina Turner impersonating midgets only)
* Bea Auteur
* Liza Man-elli
* I. Wasabusedasachild
* I. P. Hourly
* Glam Vestite
* Fals E. Braseer"
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* Ima Mann
* Val Pak
* Mike Oxtuckedunder
* Tiny Turner (Tina Turner impersonating midgets only)
* Bea Auteur
* Liza Man-elli
* I. Wasabusedasachild
* I. P. Hourly
* Glam Vestite
* Fals E. Braseer"
BACK OF MY NECK GETTIN' DIRT AND GRITTY
I am writing a book of poems called "Summer In The City," all about the people and things I see at this time of year in New York. Here are some of the poem titles:
"Excuse Me Sir, But You're About Five Years Past the Age Where You Should Be Walking Around Without A Shirt On"
"Your Tattoo is Sagging"
"If Your Conversation Can't Be Interesting, At Least It's Loud Enough That I Can Hear It Even Though I'm Blasting Music on My Headphones"
"Thank You, Ma'am, For Wearing that Shirt Without a Bra"
"Why Does That Stupid, Ugly Guy Have A Beautiful Girlfriend (And I Don't)?"
"Swearing at Me Won't Change My Mind About Giving You Spare Change"
"Can't You Keep Your Kids on a Leash? And Also a Muzzle? And Maybe A Cattle Prod?"
"Guys Who Wear a Shirt That Says 'Bikini Patrol' Should Not Have Girlfriends Unless They Are Using the Shirt to Cover a Bikini Top and Also a Bikini Bottom, In Which Case They Have Balls Big Enough to Do Anything"
"Why Do Good People Have to Die, While Mesh Tank Tops and Mullets Walk Free?"
"I Hate to Break This To You Dude, But Your Girlfriend Is a Lesbian"
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I am writing a book of poems called "Summer In The City," all about the people and things I see at this time of year in New York. Here are some of the poem titles:
"Excuse Me Sir, But You're About Five Years Past the Age Where You Should Be Walking Around Without A Shirt On"
"Your Tattoo is Sagging"
"If Your Conversation Can't Be Interesting, At Least It's Loud Enough That I Can Hear It Even Though I'm Blasting Music on My Headphones"
"Thank You, Ma'am, For Wearing that Shirt Without a Bra"
"Why Does That Stupid, Ugly Guy Have A Beautiful Girlfriend (And I Don't)?"
"Swearing at Me Won't Change My Mind About Giving You Spare Change"
"Can't You Keep Your Kids on a Leash? And Also a Muzzle? And Maybe A Cattle Prod?"
"Guys Who Wear a Shirt That Says 'Bikini Patrol' Should Not Have Girlfriends Unless They Are Using the Shirt to Cover a Bikini Top and Also a Bikini Bottom, In Which Case They Have Balls Big Enough to Do Anything"
"Why Do Good People Have to Die, While Mesh Tank Tops and Mullets Walk Free?"
"I Hate to Break This To You Dude, But Your Girlfriend Is a Lesbian"
Friday, July 19, 2002
LET ME WRITE A SONNET FOR YOUR CRAPPY-ASS SCHOOL
Be the first student currently attending a college to respond in the Comments box below, and I will write a sonnet for your school.
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Be the first student currently attending a college to respond in the Comments box below, and I will write a sonnet for your school.
ONE-MAD SHOW
As part of the NY International Fringe Festival, MAD Magazine editor Joe Raiola is doing a one-man show. I managed to get my hands on a copy of the script, and here are some highlights.
"I think I first realized how serious my cancer was when my doctor looked at me over his clipboard and said, 'Mr. Kaputnik, you have the body of a thirty year-old. Specifically thirty year-old James Dean, five years after he died!'"
"As I stood there in my all-white outfit, watching as the childhood bully picked up the hand mirror to look at his new haircut, which caused a ray of sunlight to reflect, burning a the rope that was holding the piano which landed on the plank of wood that acted as a seesaw flipping the comically-oversized socket wrench into the hammock which acted as a catapult which sent the comically-oversized socket wrench through the back of the bully's head, knocking his pointy black hat off, I knew that something in my life had changed forever."
"Sure, my contract said:
'You always have the absolute and pure
scientific right, even if your work's flawed.'
But when I folded it in, it read : 'YOURE SCREWED.' That's when I knew I needed a lawyer."
"After a year of studying with the guru, he finally decided to reveal the truths of the Universe to me: 'Nothing is more important than Truth and Beauty, but what is Truth? For instance, WHAT THEY SAY IS Have it your way, whereas WHAT THEY REALLY MEAN IS As long as your way is exactly the same way as every other furshlugginner burger we serve. Once you have grasped this lesson, you can learn the Truth about anything'."
"Of course, I knew then that there comes a time when every man must walk alone and face his fears head-on." (AS HE WALKS, ALL IS QUIET EXCEPT FOR THE "SQUOINK! SQUOINK!" OF HIS HILARIOUSLY LARGE SHOES AS THE LIGHTS FADE TO BLACK)
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As part of the NY International Fringe Festival, MAD Magazine editor Joe Raiola is doing a one-man show. I managed to get my hands on a copy of the script, and here are some highlights.
"I think I first realized how serious my cancer was when my doctor looked at me over his clipboard and said, 'Mr. Kaputnik, you have the body of a thirty year-old. Specifically thirty year-old James Dean, five years after he died!'"
"As I stood there in my all-white outfit, watching as the childhood bully picked up the hand mirror to look at his new haircut, which caused a ray of sunlight to reflect, burning a the rope that was holding the piano which landed on the plank of wood that acted as a seesaw flipping the comically-oversized socket wrench into the hammock which acted as a catapult which sent the comically-oversized socket wrench through the back of the bully's head, knocking his pointy black hat off, I knew that something in my life had changed forever."
"Sure, my contract said:
'You always have the absolute and pure
scientific right, even if your work's flawed.'
But when I folded it in, it read : 'YOURE SCREWED.' That's when I knew I needed a lawyer."
"After a year of studying with the guru, he finally decided to reveal the truths of the Universe to me: 'Nothing is more important than Truth and Beauty, but what is Truth? For instance, WHAT THEY SAY IS Have it your way, whereas WHAT THEY REALLY MEAN IS As long as your way is exactly the same way as every other furshlugginner burger we serve. Once you have grasped this lesson, you can learn the Truth about anything'."
"Of course, I knew then that there comes a time when every man must walk alone and face his fears head-on." (AS HE WALKS, ALL IS QUIET EXCEPT FOR THE "SQUOINK! SQUOINK!" OF HIS HILARIOUSLY LARGE SHOES AS THE LIGHTS FADE TO BLACK)
HOW MORTIFYING
So last ngiht I'm at a show, and a woman comes in and she's in the audience. She turns around, sees me, gives me a "Liam! It's great to see you!" I shake her hand, and try to figure out if I know her. She definitely looks familiar.
I figured she might have been someone in the same "scene," but afterwards at the bar, she tells me she's only there because she's friends with one of the women performing. I say, "Yeah!," but I'm trying hard to remember who she is.
But I say, "So what have you been up to?" and she starts giving me the lowdown on her life. Her friend looks over, sees us talking, and says, "Oh, do you two know each other? Oh, that's right, you went out on a date once."
Now, what does your average slickster do? I haven't a fucking clue, because what I said was, "No we didn't."
The woman I'm talking to gets this hurt look on her face, and says, "Oh, well yeah we did, and you never called me. But it wasn't really . . ."
I said - because I am a stupid asshole - "We did? No, I would remember."
She then proceeded to remind me where we knew each other and how. And then it all came back to me.
I am still completely mortified, and am now just praying that I have a brain tumor, because that would be pretty much the only excuse for that.
Yeowch.
Hey ladies, who wants next?
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So last ngiht I'm at a show, and a woman comes in and she's in the audience. She turns around, sees me, gives me a "Liam! It's great to see you!" I shake her hand, and try to figure out if I know her. She definitely looks familiar.
I figured she might have been someone in the same "scene," but afterwards at the bar, she tells me she's only there because she's friends with one of the women performing. I say, "Yeah!," but I'm trying hard to remember who she is.
But I say, "So what have you been up to?" and she starts giving me the lowdown on her life. Her friend looks over, sees us talking, and says, "Oh, do you two know each other? Oh, that's right, you went out on a date once."
Now, what does your average slickster do? I haven't a fucking clue, because what I said was, "No we didn't."
The woman I'm talking to gets this hurt look on her face, and says, "Oh, well yeah we did, and you never called me. But it wasn't really . . ."
I said - because I am a stupid asshole - "We did? No, I would remember."
She then proceeded to remind me where we knew each other and how. And then it all came back to me.
I am still completely mortified, and am now just praying that I have a brain tumor, because that would be pretty much the only excuse for that.
Yeowch.
Hey ladies, who wants next?
Wednesday, July 17, 2002
ARE YOU A MEATHEAD?
Take this simple quiz and find out. Simply check every answer that's true about you, and give yourself the number of points next to the question.
I OWN A SHIRT WITH THIS ON THE FRONT:
(1) _ "Ten Reasons A Beer Is Better Than A Woman"
(1) _ "Get A Job!" with one skeleton giving another a blowjob
(1) _ a bootleg shirt featuring cartoon characters doing something outlandishly out of character and/or saying something profane
(2) _ "One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor!"
(2) _ "I'm not as think as you drunk I am"
(2) _ (in fuzzy letters) "MASTURBATION WILL TURN YOU BLIND"
(3) _ any college you did not actually attend
(3) _ any bar
(4) _ "NEW YORK FUCKING CITY!!!"
MY CAR
(1) _ is an IROC
(1) _ is a Prowler
(1) _ has a very very loud stereo system
(1) _ has a horn that plays "The Theme From the Godfather"
(2) _ is a silver Prowler
(2) _ has sweet racing stripes
(2) _ has a Bad Boy/Yosemite Sam sticker across the back window
(3) _ has the brightest high-beams the law will allow
(3) _ has a horn that plays "La Cucaracha"
(3) _ has flames across the side
(4) _ is worth more to me than the lives of my wife and family
(5) _ is currently parked in a Handicap spot. What?
(5) _ is nicknamed "The Pussy Machine"
MY HOUSE IS DECORATED WITH
(1) _ velvet, velvet, velvet!
(1) _ a street sign
(1) _ Precious Moments Figurines
(2) _ an "If You Sprinkle When You Tinkle, Please Be Neat and Wipe the Seat" bathroom poster (add a point if it isn't framed)
(2) _ a plaster matador statue
(3) _ a plaster matador lamp
(3) _ Christmas lights 365 days a year
(3) _ plastic-covered furniture
(4) _ more than two sports-related memorabilia
(5) _ plastic fruits/vegetables/plants
ON A NORMAL DAY, I WEAR
(1) _ one gold-plated chain
(2) _ a gold-plated chain, plus a crucifix
(3) _ two gold-plated chains with a big crucifix and a fake-diamond ring
(4) _ three or more gold-plated chains, more than one fake-diamond ring, and something brass that spells out my name
(5) _ enough jewelry that people think I cleaned out QVC
ON SPECIAL OCCASIONS, I WEAR
(1) _ a polyester suit
(2) _ my "formal" baseball cap
(3) _ the fancy gold-plated jewelry
(4) _ a tuxedo t-shirt
(5) _ a shirt.
THE FUNNIEST THING I EVER SAW WAS
(1) _ that farting scene in Blazing Saddles
(1) _ This doll, it's a guy, and you squeeze this bulb and he pulls his pants down!
(1) _ "Truly Tasteless Jokes XXII" - that Blanche Knott, boy, she's still got it
(2) _ my "10 Ways a Beer Is Better Than A Woman" t-shirt
(2) _ "Married with Children," the first season
(2) _ Dice!
(3) _ this guy, he called up Larry King and started saying, "Baba Booey motherfucker" over and over
(3) _ The Three Stooges
(4) _ Gallagher
(5) _ the Special Olympics
I HAVE HAD
(1) _ a screaming match with my wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/husband outside of a bar at 3 in the morning
(1) _ more than one DWI charge (add a point for every DWI charge)
(1) _ a repo man visit me
(2) _ a mullet (guys)
(2) _ high hair (women)
(3) _ the best days of my life on the high school football team/cheerleading squad
(3) _ trouble understanding why people "shush" me for talking loudly to my wife and kids during movies
(4) _ a mullet (women)
(4) _ high hair (guys)
(5) _ the best days of my life in my old fraternity/sorority
(5) _ sex with a prostitute
(5) _ a trip to a nationally syndicated talk show to tell my significant other that I am dumping them/cheating on them/gay
(5) _ date rape charges filed against me after a party (add 5 points for each additional charge)
HOW TO SCORE
Total your points on all the statements you have checked. Now go back and check the rest of the statements you were ashamed to admit to truthfully the first time around and give yourself double points for those. Now go back and check all the statements that were true, but you figured didn't count because you had them "ironically," and give yourself triple points. Add 100 points if you mentally added a "How to Have Sex" joke after the "HOW TO SCORE" heading.
POINTS
0 - 10 points - You are either a liar, a hippy, or a pretentious intellectual. Any way you slice it, you are probably not very popular.
10 - 40 points - You have an ordinary level of meatheadedness. Congratulations! You are an American!
41 - 60 points - Congratulations, Mr. President.
61 - 100 points You are a meathead extraordinaire. Shouldn't you be in a chat room, asking someone about their "AGE/SEX/LOCATION GOTTA PIC??!!!!"?
100 points + - Time to pack up your things and move out to Staten Island, kind of a Meathead Wildlife Preserve, where you will feel safe in a habitat among your own kind.
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Take this simple quiz and find out. Simply check every answer that's true about you, and give yourself the number of points next to the question.
I OWN A SHIRT WITH THIS ON THE FRONT:
(1) _ "Ten Reasons A Beer Is Better Than A Woman"
(1) _ "Get A Job!" with one skeleton giving another a blowjob
(1) _ a bootleg shirt featuring cartoon characters doing something outlandishly out of character and/or saying something profane
(2) _ "One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor!"
(2) _ "I'm not as think as you drunk I am"
(2) _ (in fuzzy letters) "MASTURBATION WILL TURN YOU BLIND"
(3) _ any college you did not actually attend
(3) _ any bar
(4) _ "NEW YORK FUCKING CITY!!!"
MY CAR
(1) _ is an IROC
(1) _ is a Prowler
(1) _ has a very very loud stereo system
(1) _ has a horn that plays "The Theme From the Godfather"
(2) _ is a silver Prowler
(2) _ has sweet racing stripes
(2) _ has a Bad Boy/Yosemite Sam sticker across the back window
(3) _ has the brightest high-beams the law will allow
(3) _ has a horn that plays "La Cucaracha"
(3) _ has flames across the side
(4) _ is worth more to me than the lives of my wife and family
(5) _ is currently parked in a Handicap spot. What?
(5) _ is nicknamed "The Pussy Machine"
MY HOUSE IS DECORATED WITH
(1) _ velvet, velvet, velvet!
(1) _ a street sign
(1) _ Precious Moments Figurines
(2) _ an "If You Sprinkle When You Tinkle, Please Be Neat and Wipe the Seat" bathroom poster (add a point if it isn't framed)
(2) _ a plaster matador statue
(3) _ a plaster matador lamp
(3) _ Christmas lights 365 days a year
(3) _ plastic-covered furniture
(4) _ more than two sports-related memorabilia
(5) _ plastic fruits/vegetables/plants
ON A NORMAL DAY, I WEAR
(1) _ one gold-plated chain
(2) _ a gold-plated chain, plus a crucifix
(3) _ two gold-plated chains with a big crucifix and a fake-diamond ring
(4) _ three or more gold-plated chains, more than one fake-diamond ring, and something brass that spells out my name
(5) _ enough jewelry that people think I cleaned out QVC
ON SPECIAL OCCASIONS, I WEAR
(1) _ a polyester suit
(2) _ my "formal" baseball cap
(3) _ the fancy gold-plated jewelry
(4) _ a tuxedo t-shirt
(5) _ a shirt.
THE FUNNIEST THING I EVER SAW WAS
(1) _ that farting scene in Blazing Saddles
(1) _ This doll, it's a guy, and you squeeze this bulb and he pulls his pants down!
(1) _ "Truly Tasteless Jokes XXII" - that Blanche Knott, boy, she's still got it
(2) _ my "10 Ways a Beer Is Better Than A Woman" t-shirt
(2) _ "Married with Children," the first season
(2) _ Dice!
(3) _ this guy, he called up Larry King and started saying, "Baba Booey motherfucker" over and over
(3) _ The Three Stooges
(4) _ Gallagher
(5) _ the Special Olympics
I HAVE HAD
(1) _ a screaming match with my wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/husband outside of a bar at 3 in the morning
(1) _ more than one DWI charge (add a point for every DWI charge)
(1) _ a repo man visit me
(2) _ a mullet (guys)
(2) _ high hair (women)
(3) _ the best days of my life on the high school football team/cheerleading squad
(3) _ trouble understanding why people "shush" me for talking loudly to my wife and kids during movies
(4) _ a mullet (women)
(4) _ high hair (guys)
(5) _ the best days of my life in my old fraternity/sorority
(5) _ sex with a prostitute
(5) _ a trip to a nationally syndicated talk show to tell my significant other that I am dumping them/cheating on them/gay
(5) _ date rape charges filed against me after a party (add 5 points for each additional charge)
HOW TO SCORE
Total your points on all the statements you have checked. Now go back and check the rest of the statements you were ashamed to admit to truthfully the first time around and give yourself double points for those. Now go back and check all the statements that were true, but you figured didn't count because you had them "ironically," and give yourself triple points. Add 100 points if you mentally added a "How to Have Sex" joke after the "HOW TO SCORE" heading.
POINTS
0 - 10 points - You are either a liar, a hippy, or a pretentious intellectual. Any way you slice it, you are probably not very popular.
10 - 40 points - You have an ordinary level of meatheadedness. Congratulations! You are an American!
41 - 60 points - Congratulations, Mr. President.
61 - 100 points You are a meathead extraordinaire. Shouldn't you be in a chat room, asking someone about their "AGE/SEX/LOCATION GOTTA PIC??!!!!"?
100 points + - Time to pack up your things and move out to Staten Island, kind of a Meathead Wildlife Preserve, where you will feel safe in a habitat among your own kind.
SONNET FOR YOUR CRAPPY SCHOOL
This is for Darren
BROWN UNIVERSITY
If your parents have some money to blow,
And you start to feel life getting you down,
There's a place in Rhode Island you can go,
A university, they call it Brown.
At Ol' Sarah Doyle, we celebrate the
Most specialest time of the live-long year.
Each March, celebrate Women's Herstory
Month with the kids! They can't wait 'til it's here!
The campus bookstore: "Not a chain, a link!"
To date a girl from The Dance Extension
Act like you don't think modern dance do stink.
The Bears? Who cares? But I'll give 'em a mention.
Brown's a nice place to visit, to be fair,
But Rhode Island? You don't want to live there.
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This is for Darren
BROWN UNIVERSITY
If your parents have some money to blow,
And you start to feel life getting you down,
There's a place in Rhode Island you can go,
A university, they call it Brown.
At Ol' Sarah Doyle, we celebrate the
Most specialest time of the live-long year.
Each March, celebrate Women's Herstory
Month with the kids! They can't wait 'til it's here!
The campus bookstore: "Not a chain, a link!"
To date a girl from The Dance Extension
Act like you don't think modern dance do stink.
The Bears? Who cares? But I'll give 'em a mention.
Brown's a nice place to visit, to be fair,
But Rhode Island? You don't want to live there.
Monday, July 15, 2002
APOLOGY TO DARREN
Because of all of the work going into preparing my live show tonight, your Brown University Sonnet has been bumped back to Wednesday. Sorry, dude.
UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE DAY
AOL's front page has a picture of a jet in a spectacular explosion, next to which is this headline:
"JET OF THE FUTURE MIGHT NEED MORE WORK"
LET'S START ANOTHER INTERNET HOAX
Just copy and paste the story below the asterices, and forward it to all of your friends in an e-mail. TO add veracity, say something like, "This was on the BBC's News site," or "I heard this from my cousin in the Secret Service assigned to Bush's detail." I bet that if we all work together, this story can circle the globe and appear in a newsmagazine by next week.
* * * * * * * * * * *
TRUE STORY: BUSH
At their last meeting, away from the cameras and microphones of the media, President George W. Bush leaned over to England's Prime Minister Tony Blair and whispered, "I don't know what was in that food, but I've got to shit my brains out."
To which Blair replied calmly, without missing a beat, "I'd suspected that that's where your head was kept, but I'm glad to receive confirmation."
THERE'S GONNA BE A RUMBLE TONIGHT
The Liam McEneaney Experience Live! goes on tonight.
1) It's a good date. It's free, but it's at a nice theatre, so your date won't think you're cheap. Also, I promise I will get you laid. If you introduce your date to me after the show, I will act like we're close friends. That way, s/he will think, "Hmm, this person I am on a date with knows a big star like Liam McEneaney. They must be a good lay."
2) I didn't realize it until going over the running order, but a big three sketches have to do with pornography. Two of them in a very peripheral way, but still. You can enjoy that.
3) Because I love you and only want the best for you.
Monday, July 15th
PSNBC @ Here
145 Sixth Avenue
Reservations at: (212) 647-0202 ext 1
7:30pm * FREE
Written by Liam McEneaney*
Directed by Sir Gregory Fotheringay
Starring: Allegra Barnett, Andres DuBouchet, Susie Felber, Erin Rose Foley, Kevin Maher, Liam McEneaney, and Jay Oakes
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Because of all of the work going into preparing my live show tonight, your Brown University Sonnet has been bumped back to Wednesday. Sorry, dude.
UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE DAY
AOL's front page has a picture of a jet in a spectacular explosion, next to which is this headline:
"JET OF THE FUTURE MIGHT NEED MORE WORK"
LET'S START ANOTHER INTERNET HOAX
Just copy and paste the story below the asterices, and forward it to all of your friends in an e-mail. TO add veracity, say something like, "This was on the BBC's News site," or "I heard this from my cousin in the Secret Service assigned to Bush's detail." I bet that if we all work together, this story can circle the globe and appear in a newsmagazine by next week.
* * * * * * * * * * *
TRUE STORY: BUSH
At their last meeting, away from the cameras and microphones of the media, President George W. Bush leaned over to England's Prime Minister Tony Blair and whispered, "I don't know what was in that food, but I've got to shit my brains out."
To which Blair replied calmly, without missing a beat, "I'd suspected that that's where your head was kept, but I'm glad to receive confirmation."
THERE'S GONNA BE A RUMBLE TONIGHT
The Liam McEneaney Experience Live! goes on tonight.
1) It's a good date. It's free, but it's at a nice theatre, so your date won't think you're cheap. Also, I promise I will get you laid. If you introduce your date to me after the show, I will act like we're close friends. That way, s/he will think, "Hmm, this person I am on a date with knows a big star like Liam McEneaney. They must be a good lay."
2) I didn't realize it until going over the running order, but a big three sketches have to do with pornography. Two of them in a very peripheral way, but still. You can enjoy that.
3) Because I love you and only want the best for you.
Monday, July 15th
PSNBC @ Here
145 Sixth Avenue
Reservations at: (212) 647-0202 ext 1
7:30pm * FREE
Written by Liam McEneaney*
Directed by Sir Gregory Fotheringay
Starring: Allegra Barnett, Andres DuBouchet, Susie Felber, Erin Rose Foley, Kevin Maher, Liam McEneaney, and Jay Oakes
Saturday, July 13, 2002
GREAT GOOGLEY MOOGLY
There's nothing sweeter than someone searching Google for "fisting teens" and accidentally ending up at a comedian's website, where he's workshoopping a bad joke. So I'm just going to throw out a whole list of terms on my blog here, and I'll just hope that I attract even more disturbing pervy 40-somethings looking for naked pictures of Jeri Ryan. (GOOGLE SEARCH naked + pictures + "Jeri Ryan" yielded 72119 results.)
SEARCH TERMS
boobs, tits, cock, swallow, shit, Rudy from the Cosby show, South Park, money, cum, whores, drink, fountain, Coca Cola, commercial, enterprise, Phyllis Diller, suicide note, River Phoenix fan club, Kinkos blows, ironic, naked pictures of Stephen Hawking, Pamela and Tommy Lee, Pamela and Kid Rock, singing midgets, dwarf tossing, felching, tight jeans, adolescent, bald spot, shaved, cream, Wu Tang Clan, Louis CK, cocktease, cockblock, William "The Refrigerator" Perry, "Is this all there is to life?", Bob Dylan, Liam Neeson sucking dick, failure, railroading, Dirty Sanchez, Rusty Trombone, soggy biscuit, Uneeda Biscuit, coed sluts, chickenfucking, Touched By An Agnel, Touched By An Uncle, The Other Side, nine inch dicks, strippers, transgender studies, Tom Waits singing Happy birthday to Dick Clark, suck, sucky-fucky ten dollar joe, Stephen King giving Dave Barry a handjob, Mariah Carey giving Derek Jeter a handbag, Ike Turner's Guide to Picking Up Chicks, Shatner's dead wife, Laverne & Shirley & Ted & Alice, I hate Mondays, Garfield, Odie, little Billy from the Family Circus, rainy day activities for kids, Drinky Crow, Bob Powers' liver, Nichelle Nichols can't act, Virgin black cherry soda (really exists!), LSD and me, weed, threesome, gangbang, sexual disappointment, turning my ex-girlfriends lesbian, going to Spain, going down, the R train, San Francisco, taking up the old heiny-hole, for ten bucks more, and Greedo.
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There's nothing sweeter than someone searching Google for "fisting teens" and accidentally ending up at a comedian's website, where he's workshoopping a bad joke. So I'm just going to throw out a whole list of terms on my blog here, and I'll just hope that I attract even more disturbing pervy 40-somethings looking for naked pictures of Jeri Ryan. (GOOGLE SEARCH naked + pictures + "Jeri Ryan" yielded 72119 results.)
SEARCH TERMS
boobs, tits, cock, swallow, shit, Rudy from the Cosby show, South Park, money, cum, whores, drink, fountain, Coca Cola, commercial, enterprise, Phyllis Diller, suicide note, River Phoenix fan club, Kinkos blows, ironic, naked pictures of Stephen Hawking, Pamela and Tommy Lee, Pamela and Kid Rock, singing midgets, dwarf tossing, felching, tight jeans, adolescent, bald spot, shaved, cream, Wu Tang Clan, Louis CK, cocktease, cockblock, William "The Refrigerator" Perry, "Is this all there is to life?", Bob Dylan, Liam Neeson sucking dick, failure, railroading, Dirty Sanchez, Rusty Trombone, soggy biscuit, Uneeda Biscuit, coed sluts, chickenfucking, Touched By An Agnel, Touched By An Uncle, The Other Side, nine inch dicks, strippers, transgender studies, Tom Waits singing Happy birthday to Dick Clark, suck, sucky-fucky ten dollar joe, Stephen King giving Dave Barry a handjob, Mariah Carey giving Derek Jeter a handbag, Ike Turner's Guide to Picking Up Chicks, Shatner's dead wife, Laverne & Shirley & Ted & Alice, I hate Mondays, Garfield, Odie, little Billy from the Family Circus, rainy day activities for kids, Drinky Crow, Bob Powers' liver, Nichelle Nichols can't act, Virgin black cherry soda (really exists!), LSD and me, weed, threesome, gangbang, sexual disappointment, turning my ex-girlfriends lesbian, going to Spain, going down, the R train, San Francisco, taking up the old heiny-hole, for ten bucks more, and Greedo.
An Evening of Sketch Comedy History-in-the-Making
Monday, July 15th
PSNBC @ Here
145 Sixth Avenue
Reservations at: (212) 647-0202 ext 1
7:30pm * FREE
Written by Liam McEneaney*
Directed by Sir Gregory Fotheringay
Starring: Allegra Barnett, Andres DuBouchet, Susie Felber, Erin Rose Foley, Kevin Maher, Liam McEneaney, and Jay Oakes
"Welcome to the dumbing-down of America!"
In the year 2002, Liam McEneaney was an up-and-coming comedian. He'd served as head writer for the Humor Network and appeared on Comedy Central's "Premium Blend."
In the year 3002, Liam McEneaney has entered the canon of classic Western writers; his works live alongside those of the immortals; writers like Shakespeare, Twain, and Eszterhas. On July 15th, the Liam McEneaney Historical Reenactment Players will perform selections from McEneaney's ouvre, selections from his thirteen sketch shows, seventeen plays, and forty-three autobiographical one-man shows.
The evening will be a presentation of the masterpieces from the early 21st Century that have earned him the respect and gratitude of generations of scholars and lovers of fine art, as well an original poem, a film-strip on the joys of single life, and some surprises.
MAKE YOUR RESERVATIONS NOW!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A QUIZ ON 21st CENTURY HISTORY
Test your knowledge of that long-distant period between 2001 and 2099.
1) What 1960s folk singer-turned-rock star was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize posthumously in 2037? (HINT: HIS NAME STARTS WITH A "D"!)
2) When the Mole People emerged from the very bowels of the Earth, what was their message for all mankind?
3) In 2019, Liam McEneaney made the world record's Shortest Nobel Acceptance Speech (accepting his Nobel Prize for Being Good at Comedy). What was it?
4) What stopped singer Phil Collin's planned "2011 Concert For World Peace," scheduled to be simulcast in every country all over the globe?
5) What was the message NASA delivered to *N SYNC singer Lance Bass as they launched him out of Earth's atmosphere on a space shuttle in 2003?
ANSWERS!
1) Donovan.
2) "Hey, will you keep it down up there? I'm trying to sleep."
3) "Hey, back there, is that a naked Stephen Hawking?" When everyone turned and looked to the back of the room where he was pointing, he grabbed the Nobels for Peace and Medicine and ran.
4) The Geneva Convention.
5) "And stay out!"
* * * * * * * * * * *
WHAT THE CRITICS SAID
"Worship him...recognize his genius...buy him drinks..."
- Spy, 1998
"Makes fun of society brilliantly..."
- The Waterfront Weekly, 1999
One of the "Ten Stand-Out Stand Ups To Watch Out For."
- Back Stage, 2002
Thursday, July 11, 2002
THE COLLEGE SONNET CHALLENGE CONTINUES
This week, Plucky Darren wants me to write a sonnet about Brown University, the alma mater for John Kennedy Jr., and Amy Sohn.
Look for a poem next monday (Tuesday at the latest).
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This week, Plucky Darren wants me to write a sonnet about Brown University, the alma mater for John Kennedy Jr., and Amy Sohn.
Look for a poem next monday (Tuesday at the latest).
THE SELF-RIGHTEOUS LIBERAL CONDESCENDS TO AN INDIAN
Hey man, first of all, I want you to know that I am just as offended as you are by the headline for this piece. You're a Native American, man. Your beautiful traditions were here long before the White Man. Believe me, I know, I studied your people in several anthropology classes. But I guess you're getting your revenge - you're taking the white man's money, slot machine by slot machine, right? Ha ha ha.
Your primitive superstitious rituals were beautiful man, I mean really they were. Like that smoke lodge? Wow, you know. I mean, my grandfather used to go to a sauna to think things over, but you guys really did it right. You just filled a hut with smoke, man. I mean, I get all huffy when someone smokes a cigar in the same building as me, I can't imagine what I'd do in a room full of smoke. And the peyote rituals. I mean, in college, me and my friends had our own little peyote rituals, too. Do you think I can sit in on one of these - oh, that's not your tribe? So sorry. The Southwest? So you don't have any - ?
Okay. And the chronic alcoholism. I mean, if I'd been through as much as my peopel put yours through, I'd probably end up an alcoholic, too. Believe me, whenever my family gets together for Easter, we make sure to stock up on the wine, because my family is as - hey, where are you going? I'm not done telling you how much I admire your - well, screw you, too.
Oh, it's so hard to save people from themselves.
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Hey man, first of all, I want you to know that I am just as offended as you are by the headline for this piece. You're a Native American, man. Your beautiful traditions were here long before the White Man. Believe me, I know, I studied your people in several anthropology classes. But I guess you're getting your revenge - you're taking the white man's money, slot machine by slot machine, right? Ha ha ha.
Your primitive superstitious rituals were beautiful man, I mean really they were. Like that smoke lodge? Wow, you know. I mean, my grandfather used to go to a sauna to think things over, but you guys really did it right. You just filled a hut with smoke, man. I mean, I get all huffy when someone smokes a cigar in the same building as me, I can't imagine what I'd do in a room full of smoke. And the peyote rituals. I mean, in college, me and my friends had our own little peyote rituals, too. Do you think I can sit in on one of these - oh, that's not your tribe? So sorry. The Southwest? So you don't have any - ?
Okay. And the chronic alcoholism. I mean, if I'd been through as much as my peopel put yours through, I'd probably end up an alcoholic, too. Believe me, whenever my family gets together for Easter, we make sure to stock up on the wine, because my family is as - hey, where are you going? I'm not done telling you how much I admire your - well, screw you, too.
Oh, it's so hard to save people from themselves.
AN R&B SONG ABOUT A COUPLE I SAW ON THE SUBWAY LAST NIGHT WHO DEPRESSED ME
I fell in love with you standing there,
Your eyes, your laugh, your smile, your hair.
But you were with some other guy,
And I just gotta know why.
He stopped when he walked, and held you close,
Grey was his face, as grey as his hair.
I thought it was a little gross,
I thought it wasn't fair.
(CHORUS)
The dude is old, the dude is old,
His pubic hairs are filled with mold,
It's not fair, this situation,
The only date he should go on is his expiration.
You may think I'm whining, you may find it funny,
But come on honey, is it money?
I may not have the experience of the world,
But my back don't crack when it uncurls.
Forget going all-night, how about just down the block,
Without getting too out of breath to talk?
And if you really miss all the things he says,
I can also bore you with talk of the good old days.
(CHORUS 2x)
|
I fell in love with you standing there,
Your eyes, your laugh, your smile, your hair.
But you were with some other guy,
And I just gotta know why.
He stopped when he walked, and held you close,
Grey was his face, as grey as his hair.
I thought it was a little gross,
I thought it wasn't fair.
(CHORUS)
The dude is old, the dude is old,
His pubic hairs are filled with mold,
It's not fair, this situation,
The only date he should go on is his expiration.
You may think I'm whining, you may find it funny,
But come on honey, is it money?
I may not have the experience of the world,
But my back don't crack when it uncurls.
Forget going all-night, how about just down the block,
Without getting too out of breath to talk?
And if you really miss all the things he says,
I can also bore you with talk of the good old days.
(CHORUS 2x)
Wednesday, July 10, 2002
LET ME WRITE A SONNET ABOUT YOUR CRAPPY-ASS SCHOOL
I wrote a sonnet for the University of New Orleans a couple of days ago. Who else wants me to write something for their school? Just leave a post in the comments box below.
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I wrote a sonnet for the University of New Orleans a couple of days ago. Who else wants me to write something for their school? Just leave a post in the comments box below.
ON THE IDIOT BOX
I was watching Last Call with Carson Daly last night, it was a real meeting of the minds; his guest was supermodel Heidi Klum. The meathead and the airhead. My Christ, are there two people on this Earth who have less to say than Daly and Klum? It was so teeth-pullingly bad it was entertaining. At one point Carson Daly actually said, "Oh come on, you're totally hot. Seriously, who's hotter than you?" It's good to see that he's really probing to the core issues on his show. If only he were given a chance at the A-List guests.
FUTURE SHOWS INCLUDE:
* The Pope: "Dude, you are Your Holiness. Who's holier than you? Some people use the phrase 'holier than thou' attitude, right? But you're actually holier than thou. Like, if you hit your thumb with a hammer and shouted 'Jesus Christ!' He would actually listen, right dude?"
* Noam Chomsky: "So, dude, you're not down with the whole post-9/11 war attack things, right? So, like, what's your problem? You wrote a book about it, right? What's it like, writing a book? Or reading a book, huh huh."
* Nelson Mandela: "Dude, you were in jail for your principals or something, right? Did you ever trade a guy for a pack of cigarettes or something?"
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I was watching Last Call with Carson Daly last night, it was a real meeting of the minds; his guest was supermodel Heidi Klum. The meathead and the airhead. My Christ, are there two people on this Earth who have less to say than Daly and Klum? It was so teeth-pullingly bad it was entertaining. At one point Carson Daly actually said, "Oh come on, you're totally hot. Seriously, who's hotter than you?" It's good to see that he's really probing to the core issues on his show. If only he were given a chance at the A-List guests.
FUTURE SHOWS INCLUDE:
* The Pope: "Dude, you are Your Holiness. Who's holier than you? Some people use the phrase 'holier than thou' attitude, right? But you're actually holier than thou. Like, if you hit your thumb with a hammer and shouted 'Jesus Christ!' He would actually listen, right dude?"
* Noam Chomsky: "So, dude, you're not down with the whole post-9/11 war attack things, right? So, like, what's your problem? You wrote a book about it, right? What's it like, writing a book? Or reading a book, huh huh."
* Nelson Mandela: "Dude, you were in jail for your principals or something, right? Did you ever trade a guy for a pack of cigarettes or something?"
PROVERB FOR THE DAY
"That which does not kill you, makes you complain a lot."
THE REVIEWS ARE IN!
Liam McEneaney possesses "menacing sweetness."
- Karen Sneider, Laff.tv
- Sadly, this is true. More later.
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"That which does not kill you, makes you complain a lot."
THE REVIEWS ARE IN!
Liam McEneaney possesses "menacing sweetness."
- Karen Sneider, Laff.tv
- Sadly, this is true. More later.
Monday, July 08, 2002
SONNET FOR YOUR CRAPPY-ASS SCHOOL
This is for Erik.
THE UNIVERSITY OF NEW ORLEANS
Down in the swampland, down in the bayou,
In one of this country's wildest cities,
Schooled in the important things, like voodoo,
And throwing beads for a glimpse of titties.
Campus life? Hell yes, so much to choose;
There's basketball at the Nat G. Kiefer
You could go and watch the Privateers lose.
After the game, lynch Lafitte the 'Gator.
Or head back to your Privateer Place pad,
Known as "The Unwashed Laundry Museum,"
And "study" passed-out drunk - this is so sad -
In front of the TV by eight pm.
Mardi Gras, tossed bras, causing drunken scenes,
Or - gasp- attending class at U. of N'Orleans.
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This is for Erik.
THE UNIVERSITY OF NEW ORLEANS
Down in the swampland, down in the bayou,
In one of this country's wildest cities,
Schooled in the important things, like voodoo,
And throwing beads for a glimpse of titties.
Campus life? Hell yes, so much to choose;
There's basketball at the Nat G. Kiefer
You could go and watch the Privateers lose.
After the game, lynch Lafitte the 'Gator.
Or head back to your Privateer Place pad,
Known as "The Unwashed Laundry Museum,"
And "study" passed-out drunk - this is so sad -
In front of the TV by eight pm.
Mardi Gras, tossed bras, causing drunken scenes,
Or - gasp- attending class at U. of N'Orleans.
An evening of sketch comedy
written by and starring Liam McEneaney
With Allegra Barnett, Andre DuBouchet, Susie Felber, Erin R. Foley, Kevin Maher and Jay Oakes
Monday, July 15th
At PSNBC
145 Sixth Avenue @ Spring St.
7:30pm * FREE!
Reservations: (212) 647-0202 Ext. 1
One of 2002's "Ten Stand-Out Standups to Watch."
- Back Stage
"Worship him...recognize his genius...buy him drinks."
- Spy
"Makes fun of society brilliantly."
- The Waterfront Weekly
Sunday, July 07, 2002
Ignore this post. It isn't here.
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Saturday, July 06, 2002
MY WYSIWYG STORY
(You may have noticed that this post is dated to two years ago. That was just so that involved parties don't read this. I don't know why I'm so shy, but there you go.)
Thanks, it was all true. After a show once, I had a firefighter tell me, "What you do is so brave."
I guess I save babies from burning babies?
Halloween is a time for horror, for demons in human form, whether they be witches and warlocks, whether they be sorcerors or the undead, whether they be screechy little children or drunks staggering off of that parade on 6th Avenue.
This is a story about the demons we all face every day - personal demons.
Don’t worry, this isn’t performance-as-therapy. I’m not going to take you inside stories of horrific abuse as a child or anything like that. I will, however, take you on a journey through time, and it starts a year ago in England.
There’s a time for reflecting on the things you regret most in life, business opportunities squandered, love lost through cowardice. And there’s no better time to reflect on your regrets in life than when you’re a 27 year old man lying awake at night in a 14-bed youth hostel room, wondering if you’re going to get murdered in your sleep by a cutthroat Australian gang.
That’s not the story I’m going to tell, although it should be, as it’s much more interesting.
As I lay in bed, I thought about what I regretted most in life, and I realized that although I never regretted anything I'd done, whether they be jobs I'd taken or dating any of the women I had dated, I highly regretted all of the chances I'd never grabbed; jobs I'd been afraid to go for, women I’d never dated. And I’d not dated them through fear, a fear of rejection that stemmed from my childhood.
See, I suffer from chronic depression; I was first diagnosed when I was 11 years old, I was suicidally depressed and the doctors decided to put me on heavy antidepressants. As someone who went through it, I am staunchly against putting little kids on drugs like Ritalin, and yet I can’t argue with the fact that I am still alive, and a somewhat functioning member of society as a result.
The drugs I was on had some side effects. People ask me why I don’t smoke weed. In fact, a year ago, I was walking by Washington Square Park when one of the dirtbag skunk dealers started walking pace beside me, saying “Weed, weed?”
I said, “Sorry man, I don’t smoke weed.”
He said, “What? Man, with those glasses, how you don’t smoke weed?”
I thought about it for a second, and decided what the hell, I’ll answer his question thoroughly and honestly: “You see, when I was a kid, I was on really heavy antidepressants. They did everything weed does to you; they made me sit in front of a TV all day, eat junk food, they completely altered my mind and destroyed my short term memory. So I figured – “
That’s when he said, “shit, this is my corner, I gotta go.” And he ran off. And I thought, “Great, I just creeped out a Washington Square Park drug dealer. I win.”
When I was in junior high school, I was a fat kid. But, I was a tremendously fat kid Life is hard enough when you’re a teenager with all kinds of bad chemicals and hormones racing through your body, but when you have to take additional bad chemicals because your body produces more bad chemicals in your brains than it’s supposed to.
Add to that the fact that you’re a boy who has probably the most developed breasts in the seventh grade, and you’re going to develop a somewhat poor attitude towards yourself, and towards the way others perceive you.
Now, when I was in high school, I spent six months on a diet that let me lose a lot of weight, and I had sex for the first time with an older woman, a waitress in the West Village. Your first time is your worst they say, and it was probably not made better by the fact that she gave me an in-depth critique of what exactly I had done wrong right afterwards.
Ah, pillow talk. I said to myself that night, “If this is what the world of romance is like, I don’t want no part,” and proceeded to freak out and eat so much I gained more weight than I’d ever had on me before.
In the eighth grade, I had a crush on a girl I sat behind in Social Studies. Her name is – well, this is a room full of folks who are handy with the Google, so let’s just call her "Joanne." I realized later in life that she was the prototype for all of the women I’d developed long-lasting crushes on throughout the whole of my life; short, dark-haired, laid-back, smart but not in a studious nerdly way, with an artistic streak and a sens of humor.
If you don’t believe me, I dated Rachael Parenta, who is either going to be on the show in a little bit or has already been on the show. Either way, she’s the kind of woman I have dated, except for being laid-back.
Every schoolday, Social Studies was torture. On the one hand, I got to sit behind Joanne, talk to her, pass notes, make jokes which she seemed to enjoy, interact on a normal level. On the other hand, I had the kind of burning crush that you can only get when you’re twelve years old, when you’re just learning how to really feel love for the first time. And I could never ask her out, because let’s be honest, we might have been friendly but – well, I was no one anyone would want to date.
In that hostel room in England, as I watched flashlights make their stealthy way through my room, moving one of my bunkmates to the safety of another room where the cutthroat Australians couldn’t find her, I gave myself a pep talk that started, “If you make it out of this one alive…”
I told myself I’d come a long way since junior high school – as an adult I had finally found myself. Started doing comedy, took myself off the medications, gained a lot of confidence as I finally started losing weight through diet and exercise. And if you’re wondering, I cut out eating food with processed sugar and I walked probably ten miles a day.
And I told myself that if I wasn’t going to start pursuing all the opportunities I had let go by me in my fear and my self-hatred, whether they be romantic or business, then it didn’t matter if a gang of Australians killed me or not, because I was n’t living anyway.
I got home and started dating more. And yet, the thought of Joanne was never far from my mind. My first love, although she never knew it. And I thought how sad it was that I would never be able to find her, because how do you find a completely random person from out of your past and contact them? It’s impossible, right?
I assume we’ve all heard of Friendster in this room, correct? I can skip the explanations then and get right on with concluding the story. Yes, I found Joanne through Friendster. Yes, we e-mailed back and forth for a bit, and yes, she came to see me at a show. The night she came to see me perform, we hung out for hours in the East Village, and at one in the morning I found myself walking hand-in-hand down the street with my Junior High School crush, on West 12th street, making out with her against a grade-school fence.
And I realized something amazing, which was that even after these fifteen years had passed, I still really liked her a lot. That I still wanted to date her.
And I guess she felt the same way, because we started seeing each other. We probably went out five times, and then she came to see me at a show, went home, and I never heard from her again. I called her, she never called me back. Disappeared back into the misty shrouds of my past, where our ghosts all belong.
And I’m here to tell you that although you may think it hurt, that’s because it fucking hurt.
Fuck yes, of course it hurt.
Your junior high school crush goes out with you, then ditches you and treats you like the junior high school loser you always suspected you were? Of course it hurts. It happened two weeks ago, and I can tell you it hurts like fuck.
But these are my personal demons as I say, and what is a demon? According to religious lore, a demon is a fallen angel who had joined in Lucifer’s revolt against God, now trapped in Hell and awaiting the end of time so they can be freed.
And what is a personal demon, but another aspect of myself, trapped in a personal hell of self-loathing, waiting to be freed so that I can live a happy life. And it’s time for me to free my personal demons. It’s time for me to free myself.
|
Thanks, it was all true. After a show once, I had a firefighter tell me, "What you do is so brave."
I guess I save babies from burning babies?
Halloween is a time for horror, for demons in human form, whether they be witches and warlocks, whether they be sorcerors or the undead, whether they be screechy little children or drunks staggering off of that parade on 6th Avenue.
This is a story about the demons we all face every day - personal demons.
Don’t worry, this isn’t performance-as-therapy. I’m not going to take you inside stories of horrific abuse as a child or anything like that. I will, however, take you on a journey through time, and it starts a year ago in England.
There’s a time for reflecting on the things you regret most in life, business opportunities squandered, love lost through cowardice. And there’s no better time to reflect on your regrets in life than when you’re a 27 year old man lying awake at night in a 14-bed youth hostel room, wondering if you’re going to get murdered in your sleep by a cutthroat Australian gang.
That’s not the story I’m going to tell, although it should be, as it’s much more interesting.
As I lay in bed, I thought about what I regretted most in life, and I realized that although I never regretted anything I'd done, whether they be jobs I'd taken or dating any of the women I had dated, I highly regretted all of the chances I'd never grabbed; jobs I'd been afraid to go for, women I’d never dated. And I’d not dated them through fear, a fear of rejection that stemmed from my childhood.
See, I suffer from chronic depression; I was first diagnosed when I was 11 years old, I was suicidally depressed and the doctors decided to put me on heavy antidepressants. As someone who went through it, I am staunchly against putting little kids on drugs like Ritalin, and yet I can’t argue with the fact that I am still alive, and a somewhat functioning member of society as a result.
The drugs I was on had some side effects. People ask me why I don’t smoke weed. In fact, a year ago, I was walking by Washington Square Park when one of the dirtbag skunk dealers started walking pace beside me, saying “Weed, weed?”
I said, “Sorry man, I don’t smoke weed.”
He said, “What? Man, with those glasses, how you don’t smoke weed?”
I thought about it for a second, and decided what the hell, I’ll answer his question thoroughly and honestly: “You see, when I was a kid, I was on really heavy antidepressants. They did everything weed does to you; they made me sit in front of a TV all day, eat junk food, they completely altered my mind and destroyed my short term memory. So I figured – “
That’s when he said, “shit, this is my corner, I gotta go.” And he ran off. And I thought, “Great, I just creeped out a Washington Square Park drug dealer. I win.”
When I was in junior high school, I was a fat kid. But, I was a tremendously fat kid Life is hard enough when you’re a teenager with all kinds of bad chemicals and hormones racing through your body, but when you have to take additional bad chemicals because your body produces more bad chemicals in your brains than it’s supposed to.
Add to that the fact that you’re a boy who has probably the most developed breasts in the seventh grade, and you’re going to develop a somewhat poor attitude towards yourself, and towards the way others perceive you.
Now, when I was in high school, I spent six months on a diet that let me lose a lot of weight, and I had sex for the first time with an older woman, a waitress in the West Village. Your first time is your worst they say, and it was probably not made better by the fact that she gave me an in-depth critique of what exactly I had done wrong right afterwards.
Ah, pillow talk. I said to myself that night, “If this is what the world of romance is like, I don’t want no part,” and proceeded to freak out and eat so much I gained more weight than I’d ever had on me before.
In the eighth grade, I had a crush on a girl I sat behind in Social Studies. Her name is – well, this is a room full of folks who are handy with the Google, so let’s just call her "Joanne." I realized later in life that she was the prototype for all of the women I’d developed long-lasting crushes on throughout the whole of my life; short, dark-haired, laid-back, smart but not in a studious nerdly way, with an artistic streak and a sens of humor.
If you don’t believe me, I dated Rachael Parenta, who is either going to be on the show in a little bit or has already been on the show. Either way, she’s the kind of woman I have dated, except for being laid-back.
Every schoolday, Social Studies was torture. On the one hand, I got to sit behind Joanne, talk to her, pass notes, make jokes which she seemed to enjoy, interact on a normal level. On the other hand, I had the kind of burning crush that you can only get when you’re twelve years old, when you’re just learning how to really feel love for the first time. And I could never ask her out, because let’s be honest, we might have been friendly but – well, I was no one anyone would want to date.
In that hostel room in England, as I watched flashlights make their stealthy way through my room, moving one of my bunkmates to the safety of another room where the cutthroat Australians couldn’t find her, I gave myself a pep talk that started, “If you make it out of this one alive…”
I told myself I’d come a long way since junior high school – as an adult I had finally found myself. Started doing comedy, took myself off the medications, gained a lot of confidence as I finally started losing weight through diet and exercise. And if you’re wondering, I cut out eating food with processed sugar and I walked probably ten miles a day.
And I told myself that if I wasn’t going to start pursuing all the opportunities I had let go by me in my fear and my self-hatred, whether they be romantic or business, then it didn’t matter if a gang of Australians killed me or not, because I was n’t living anyway.
I got home and started dating more. And yet, the thought of Joanne was never far from my mind. My first love, although she never knew it. And I thought how sad it was that I would never be able to find her, because how do you find a completely random person from out of your past and contact them? It’s impossible, right?
I assume we’ve all heard of Friendster in this room, correct? I can skip the explanations then and get right on with concluding the story. Yes, I found Joanne through Friendster. Yes, we e-mailed back and forth for a bit, and yes, she came to see me at a show. The night she came to see me perform, we hung out for hours in the East Village, and at one in the morning I found myself walking hand-in-hand down the street with my Junior High School crush, on West 12th street, making out with her against a grade-school fence.
And I realized something amazing, which was that even after these fifteen years had passed, I still really liked her a lot. That I still wanted to date her.
And I guess she felt the same way, because we started seeing each other. We probably went out five times, and then she came to see me at a show, went home, and I never heard from her again. I called her, she never called me back. Disappeared back into the misty shrouds of my past, where our ghosts all belong.
And I’m here to tell you that although you may think it hurt, that’s because it fucking hurt.
Fuck yes, of course it hurt.
Your junior high school crush goes out with you, then ditches you and treats you like the junior high school loser you always suspected you were? Of course it hurts. It happened two weeks ago, and I can tell you it hurts like fuck.
But these are my personal demons as I say, and what is a demon? According to religious lore, a demon is a fallen angel who had joined in Lucifer’s revolt against God, now trapped in Hell and awaiting the end of time so they can be freed.
And what is a personal demon, but another aspect of myself, trapped in a personal hell of self-loathing, waiting to be freed so that I can live a happy life. And it’s time for me to free my personal demons. It’s time for me to free myself.
Friday, July 05, 2002
I don't think I shall ever see a poem lovely as a tree. However, a poem carved into a tree's bark, that would truly be a thing of beauty.
THE HIPPIE HIPPIE SHAKE
I'm not the only famous poet/performer/political thinker/personality in my family. My uncle Mike McEneaney was one of the founders of the Yippie movement, and was involved at the Berkeley protests. Many consider him one of the great thinkers of the '60s, and his poetry was renowned all over the country wherever a group of people formed a commune to grow beets and pretended they "don't believe in jealousy."
He changed his last name to O'Neill, like the playwright. Then he changed his first name to "Viva," because Zapata was his hero, but he thought his full name was actually "Viva Zapata." Just say no, kids.
Today I'd like to print one of his better-known poems.
MISSING PERSONS
by Viva O'Neill
Today I went to the precinct house,
to file a Missing Persons report.
The pig behind the counter said,
"Who would you like to report missing?"
I replied:
America's Innocence.
When I was born, I was spanked,
Spanked by the doctor
Spanked by my parents
Spanked by my teachers
Spanked by the system
Spanked by the Man
And they spank you and spank you and spank you
Until you die.
I saw a Wanted Poster today.
It said, WANTED: America's Youth
DEAD OR ALIVE
REWARD: A house, a car, a color TV.
Hey America, your hero George Washington
Was a wanted man, too,
And they called him a filthy hippie
Because he also believed in freedom
And growing hemp.
!
I saw a sign today. It said
FOR SALE: Your Soul. Price Negotiable.
Inquire Within.
Hey, Mr. Temporary Employment Agency Man,
Would cutting my hair make me more "presentable"?
How about if I wore your necktie noose?
Would that make me "employable"?
If I wear your leash, and speak on command,
And sit up and beg and shake hands and don't have fleas
Would you give me a treat then?
Would you?
How about if I play dead,
Dead like America's Innocence
Found face-down in an alley
Knifed in the back.
Then you could turn me over and stamp me "Made In America."
I attended the funeral for America's Innocence,
A priest read the accused his Last Miranda Rites.
And I filed a Missing Persons report,
For your soul
Mr. Middle Class,
Mom and Dad.
?
?AMERICA?
?
|
THE HIPPIE HIPPIE SHAKE
I'm not the only famous poet/performer/political thinker/personality in my family. My uncle Mike McEneaney was one of the founders of the Yippie movement, and was involved at the Berkeley protests. Many consider him one of the great thinkers of the '60s, and his poetry was renowned all over the country wherever a group of people formed a commune to grow beets and pretended they "don't believe in jealousy."
He changed his last name to O'Neill, like the playwright. Then he changed his first name to "Viva," because Zapata was his hero, but he thought his full name was actually "Viva Zapata." Just say no, kids.
Today I'd like to print one of his better-known poems.
MISSING PERSONS
by Viva O'Neill
Today I went to the precinct house,
to file a Missing Persons report.
The pig behind the counter said,
"Who would you like to report missing?"
I replied:
America's Innocence.
When I was born, I was spanked,
Spanked by the doctor
Spanked by my parents
Spanked by my teachers
Spanked by the system
Spanked by the Man
And they spank you and spank you and spank you
Until you die.
I saw a Wanted Poster today.
It said, WANTED: America's Youth
DEAD OR ALIVE
REWARD: A house, a car, a color TV.
Hey America, your hero George Washington
Was a wanted man, too,
And they called him a filthy hippie
Because he also believed in freedom
And growing hemp.
!
I saw a sign today. It said
FOR SALE: Your Soul. Price Negotiable.
Inquire Within.
Hey, Mr. Temporary Employment Agency Man,
Would cutting my hair make me more "presentable"?
How about if I wore your necktie noose?
Would that make me "employable"?
If I wear your leash, and speak on command,
And sit up and beg and shake hands and don't have fleas
Would you give me a treat then?
Would you?
How about if I play dead,
Dead like America's Innocence
Found face-down in an alley
Knifed in the back.
Then you could turn me over and stamp me "Made In America."
I attended the funeral for America's Innocence,
A priest read the accused his Last Miranda Rites.
And I filed a Missing Persons report,
For your soul
Mr. Middle Class,
Mom and Dad.
?
?AMERICA?
?
I don't think I shall ever see a poem lovely as a tree. However, a poem carved into a tree's bark, that would truly be a thing of beauty.
THE HIPPIE HIPPIE SHAKE
I'm not the only famous poet/performer/political thinker/personality in my family. My uncle Mike McEneaney was one of the founders of the Yippie movement, and was involved at the Berkeley protests. Many consider him one of the great thinkers of the '60s, and his poetry was renowned all over the country wherever a group of people formed a commune to grow beets and pretended they "don't believe in jealousy."
He changed his last name to O'Neill, like the playwright. Then he changed his first name to "Viva," because Zapata was his hero, but he thought his full name was actually "Viva Zapata." Just say no, kids.
Today I'd like to print one of his better-known poems.
MISSING PERSONS
by Viva O'Neill
Today I went to the precinct house,
to file a Missing Persons report.
The pig behind the counter said,
"Who would you like to report missing?"
I replied:
America's Innocence.
When I was born, I was spanked,
Spanked by the doctor
Spanked by my parents
Spanked by my teachers
Spanked by the system
Spanked by the Man
And they spank you and spank you and spank you
Until you die.
I saw a Wanted Poster today.
It said, WANTED: America's Youth
DEAD OR ALIVE
REWARD: A house, a car, a color TV.
Hey America, your hero George Washington
Was a wanted man, too,
And they called him a filthy hippie
Because he also believed in freedom
And growing hemp.
!
I saw a sign today. It said
FOR SALE: Your Soul. Price Negotiable.
Inquire Within.
Hey, Mr. Temporary Employment Agency Man,
Would cutting my hair make me more "presentable"?
How about if I wore your necktie noose?
Would that make me "employable"?
If I wear your leash, and speak on command,
And sit up and beg and shake hands and don't have fleas
Would you give me a treat then?
Would you?
How about if I play dead,
Dead like America's Innocence
Found face-down in an alley
Knifed in the back.
Then you could turn me over and stamp me "Made In America."
I attended the funeral for America's Innocence,
A priest read the accused his Last Miranda Rites.
And I filed a Missing Persons report,
For your soul
Mr. Middle Class,
Mom and Dad.
?
?AMERICA?
?
|
THE HIPPIE HIPPIE SHAKE
I'm not the only famous poet/performer/political thinker/personality in my family. My uncle Mike McEneaney was one of the founders of the Yippie movement, and was involved at the Berkeley protests. Many consider him one of the great thinkers of the '60s, and his poetry was renowned all over the country wherever a group of people formed a commune to grow beets and pretended they "don't believe in jealousy."
He changed his last name to O'Neill, like the playwright. Then he changed his first name to "Viva," because Zapata was his hero, but he thought his full name was actually "Viva Zapata." Just say no, kids.
Today I'd like to print one of his better-known poems.
MISSING PERSONS
by Viva O'Neill
Today I went to the precinct house,
to file a Missing Persons report.
The pig behind the counter said,
"Who would you like to report missing?"
I replied:
America's Innocence.
When I was born, I was spanked,
Spanked by the doctor
Spanked by my parents
Spanked by my teachers
Spanked by the system
Spanked by the Man
And they spank you and spank you and spank you
Until you die.
I saw a Wanted Poster today.
It said, WANTED: America's Youth
DEAD OR ALIVE
REWARD: A house, a car, a color TV.
Hey America, your hero George Washington
Was a wanted man, too,
And they called him a filthy hippie
Because he also believed in freedom
And growing hemp.
!
I saw a sign today. It said
FOR SALE: Your Soul. Price Negotiable.
Inquire Within.
Hey, Mr. Temporary Employment Agency Man,
Would cutting my hair make me more "presentable"?
How about if I wore your necktie noose?
Would that make me "employable"?
If I wear your leash, and speak on command,
And sit up and beg and shake hands and don't have fleas
Would you give me a treat then?
Would you?
How about if I play dead,
Dead like America's Innocence
Found face-down in an alley
Knifed in the back.
Then you could turn me over and stamp me "Made In America."
I attended the funeral for America's Innocence,
A priest read the accused his Last Miranda Rites.
And I filed a Missing Persons report,
For your soul
Mr. Middle Class,
Mom and Dad.
?
?AMERICA?
?
I don't think I shall ever see a poem lovely as a tree. However, a poem carved into a tree's bark, that would truly be a thing of beauty.
THE HIPPIE HIPPIE SHAKE
I'm not the only famous poet/performer/political thinker/personality in my family. My uncle Mike McEneaney was one of the founders of the Yippie movement, and was involved at the Berkeley protests. Many consider him one of the great thinkers of the '60s, and his poetry was renowned all over the country wherever a group of people formed a commune to grow beets and pretended they "don't believe in jealousy."
He changed his last name to O'Neill, like the playwright. Then he changed his first name to "Viva," because Zapata was his hero, but he thought his full name was actually "Viva Zapata." Just say no, kids.
Today I'd like to print one of his better-known poems.
MISSING PERSONS
by Viva O'Neill
Today I went to the precinct house,
to file a Missing Persons report.
The pig behind the counter said,
"Who would you like to report missing?"
I replied:
America's Innocence.
When I was born, I was spanked,
Spanked by the doctor
Spanked by my parents
Spanked by my teachers
Spanked by the system
Spanked by the Man
And they spank you and spank you and spank you
Until you die.
I saw a Wanted Poster today.
It said, WANTED: America's Youth
DEAD OR ALIVE
REWARD: A house, a car, a color TV.
Hey America, your hero George Washington
Was a wanted man, too,
And they called him a filthy hippie
Because he also believed in freedom
And growing hemp.
!
I saw a sign today. It said
FOR SALE: Your Soul. Price Negotiable.
Inquire Within.
Hey, Mr. Temporary Employment Agency Man,
Would cutting my hair make me more "presentable"?
How about if I wore your necktie noose?
Would that make me "employable"?
If I wear your leash, and speak on command,
And sit up and beg and shake hands and don't have fleas
Would you give me a treat then?
Would you?
How about if I play dead,
Dead like America's Innocence
Found face-down in an alley
Knifed in the back.
Then you could turn me over and stamp me "Made In America."
I attended the funeral for America's Innocence,
A priest read the accused his Last Miranda Rites.
And I filed a Missing Persons report,
For your soul
Mr. Middle Class,
Mom and Dad.
?
?AMERICA?
?
|
THE HIPPIE HIPPIE SHAKE
I'm not the only famous poet/performer/political thinker/personality in my family. My uncle Mike McEneaney was one of the founders of the Yippie movement, and was involved at the Berkeley protests. Many consider him one of the great thinkers of the '60s, and his poetry was renowned all over the country wherever a group of people formed a commune to grow beets and pretended they "don't believe in jealousy."
He changed his last name to O'Neill, like the playwright. Then he changed his first name to "Viva," because Zapata was his hero, but he thought his full name was actually "Viva Zapata." Just say no, kids.
Today I'd like to print one of his better-known poems.
MISSING PERSONS
by Viva O'Neill
Today I went to the precinct house,
to file a Missing Persons report.
The pig behind the counter said,
"Who would you like to report missing?"
I replied:
America's Innocence.
When I was born, I was spanked,
Spanked by the doctor
Spanked by my parents
Spanked by my teachers
Spanked by the system
Spanked by the Man
And they spank you and spank you and spank you
Until you die.
I saw a Wanted Poster today.
It said, WANTED: America's Youth
DEAD OR ALIVE
REWARD: A house, a car, a color TV.
Hey America, your hero George Washington
Was a wanted man, too,
And they called him a filthy hippie
Because he also believed in freedom
And growing hemp.
!
I saw a sign today. It said
FOR SALE: Your Soul. Price Negotiable.
Inquire Within.
Hey, Mr. Temporary Employment Agency Man,
Would cutting my hair make me more "presentable"?
How about if I wore your necktie noose?
Would that make me "employable"?
If I wear your leash, and speak on command,
And sit up and beg and shake hands and don't have fleas
Would you give me a treat then?
Would you?
How about if I play dead,
Dead like America's Innocence
Found face-down in an alley
Knifed in the back.
Then you could turn me over and stamp me "Made In America."
I attended the funeral for America's Innocence,
A priest read the accused his Last Miranda Rites.
And I filed a Missing Persons report,
For your soul
Mr. Middle Class,
Mom and Dad.
?
?AMERICA?
?
Wednesday, July 03, 2002
HAPPY JULY FOURTH!
I will be away at the beach tomorrow, working on my suburn. So enjoy the holiday, and I'll be back on the 5th.
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I will be away at the beach tomorrow, working on my suburn. So enjoy the holiday, and I'll be back on the 5th.
THE COLLEGE SONNET CHALLENGE
Erik from the University of New Orleans has thrown down the gauntlet, and I accept his challenge; I will indeed write a sonnet about his crappy-ass school, which will be on this blog on Monday (Tuesday by the latest).
WHAT YOUR PET SAYS ABOUT YOU - ADDENDUM
MINK - No one told me I had to kill these before wearing them.
FERRET - Rats are so much fun, but they aren't endangered enough.
PARROT - I want to own a psychotic animal, but pit bulls are too much work.
TARANTULA - Allow me to turn on this Nine Inch Nails album while I read you some of my Goth death poetry.
POT-BELLIED PIG - I miss '96.
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Erik from the University of New Orleans has thrown down the gauntlet, and I accept his challenge; I will indeed write a sonnet about his crappy-ass school, which will be on this blog on Monday (Tuesday by the latest).
WHAT YOUR PET SAYS ABOUT YOU - ADDENDUM
MINK - No one told me I had to kill these before wearing them.
FERRET - Rats are so much fun, but they aren't endangered enough.
PARROT - I want to own a psychotic animal, but pit bulls are too much work.
TARANTULA - Allow me to turn on this Nine Inch Nails album while I read you some of my Goth death poetry.
POT-BELLIED PIG - I miss '96.
Tuesday, July 02, 2002
WHAT MY PET SAYS ABOUT ME
WOMEN
ONE CAT: Teddy bears don't love me back.
TWO CATS: I'm a lesbian/single for life!
THREE OR MORE CATS: I am completely out of my mind.
LARGE DOG: Please don't rape me.
MEDIUM-SIZED DOG: Mommy and daddy never got bought me a pony.
TINY DOG: I am eighty-seven years old.
MEN
ONE CAT: My ex-girlfriend had me whipped.
TWO CATS: Mice ate my underwear.
THREE OR MORE CATS: I do not exist.
LARGE DOG: I am a drug dealer.
MEDIUM-SIZED DOG: Somewhere inside me is a caveman who wants to hunt his own dinner.
TINY DOG: I am gay.
A COUPLE
CAT: Let's see how responsible we are before we have a baby.
DOG: We can't afford a home security system.
OTHER PETS
BOA CONSTRICTOR: You can take a picture with me in Times Square for ten dollars.
COCKATOO: I like to wear exotic pets on my shoulder and act annoyed when people notice.
RABBIT: I have a hard time saying "no" to my kids.
HAMSTER: My parents didn't want to buy me a real pet.
A BROKEN CHAIR: Spare change, mister?
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WOMEN
ONE CAT: Teddy bears don't love me back.
TWO CATS: I'm a lesbian/single for life!
THREE OR MORE CATS: I am completely out of my mind.
LARGE DOG: Please don't rape me.
MEDIUM-SIZED DOG: Mommy and daddy never got bought me a pony.
TINY DOG: I am eighty-seven years old.
MEN
ONE CAT: My ex-girlfriend had me whipped.
TWO CATS: Mice ate my underwear.
THREE OR MORE CATS: I do not exist.
LARGE DOG: I am a drug dealer.
MEDIUM-SIZED DOG: Somewhere inside me is a caveman who wants to hunt his own dinner.
TINY DOG: I am gay.
A COUPLE
CAT: Let's see how responsible we are before we have a baby.
DOG: We can't afford a home security system.
OTHER PETS
BOA CONSTRICTOR: You can take a picture with me in Times Square for ten dollars.
COCKATOO: I like to wear exotic pets on my shoulder and act annoyed when people notice.
RABBIT: I have a hard time saying "no" to my kids.
HAMSTER: My parents didn't want to buy me a real pet.
A BROKEN CHAIR: Spare change, mister?
Monday, July 01, 2002
HEY COLLEGE STUDENTS
LET ME WRITE A SONNET ABOUT YOUR CRAPPY-ASS SCHOOL
Let's be honest - you don't know your school's fight song. You don't know your alma mater's alma mater. But now you can add to your school's cultural tone by commissioning a completely original sonnet for your school, which I will publish on this blog, one a week (if there's a demand for it).
So go ahead, post in the Comments box. tell me which school you currently attend, and I will write a sonnet about it.
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LET ME WRITE A SONNET ABOUT YOUR CRAPPY-ASS SCHOOL
Let's be honest - you don't know your school's fight song. You don't know your alma mater's alma mater. But now you can add to your school's cultural tone by commissioning a completely original sonnet for your school, which I will publish on this blog, one a week (if there's a demand for it).
So go ahead, post in the Comments box. tell me which school you currently attend, and I will write a sonnet about it.
WHOOPIE
Why do we congratulate someone when they tell us about someone else's accomplishment?
"My sister's having a baby."
"Hey, congratulations. On, um, being related to someone who's just accomplished osmething. Way to go with that accident of genetics."
"My best friend just got a promotion."
"Hey, that's great. You, um, really picked a winner there. I, um, see a round of drinks in your future. Good work."
RASHY-MAN
I had an interesting encounter on the downtown E train on Saturday, one which I'm sure made me look like a real racist. I sat down next to a Middle-Eastern guy wearing a purple turban. I was reading the NY Daily News. Here's how I'm sure it looked to him:
HIS SIDE
I'm sitting next to this guy. He's trying to relax as I work my way backwards from the comics (which I always read first) through to the news stories in the front of the paper (and then, if I have time in my commute, I flip back to Sports).
At some point, I get to page 3, which is a big outraged sotry with picture. The picture was of a little kid dressed as a suicide bomber. As I'm reading the article, he starts to fiddle with something in his pocket. He leans back and starts fiddling with his turban. I keep looking from this article on suicide bombing to this guy, get a disgusted look on my face, and get up and switch subway cars. I am a racist, obviously.
MY SIDE OF THE STORY
I sat down next to this guy. When I did, I smelled the strong and distinct odor of feet. As is ususal when I'm sitting on the a suybway car and I smell something disgusting, I automatically assume it's me somehow and pray no one discovers the source and humiliates me.
Now, I'd worked out at the gym for an hour and a half before I left the house, but I'd also showered after and sprayed my sneakers with foot deodorant. So I'm sitting there and the odor of feet just gets stronger and stronger. Then, this guy next to me lifts his arm over his head to fiddle with his turban, and I smell some serious B.O. I'm faced with a conundrum; do I just rudely stand up and leave, or stick it out to the next stop, get up and act like I'm leaving the train and run to the next car?
The nI realized that if this guy can't observe the basic protocols of hygiene, I certainly don't owe him any manners and get up and switch subway cars.
Interesting, no? Probably not.
|
Why do we congratulate someone when they tell us about someone else's accomplishment?
"My sister's having a baby."
"Hey, congratulations. On, um, being related to someone who's just accomplished osmething. Way to go with that accident of genetics."
"My best friend just got a promotion."
"Hey, that's great. You, um, really picked a winner there. I, um, see a round of drinks in your future. Good work."
RASHY-MAN
I had an interesting encounter on the downtown E train on Saturday, one which I'm sure made me look like a real racist. I sat down next to a Middle-Eastern guy wearing a purple turban. I was reading the NY Daily News. Here's how I'm sure it looked to him:
HIS SIDE
I'm sitting next to this guy. He's trying to relax as I work my way backwards from the comics (which I always read first) through to the news stories in the front of the paper (and then, if I have time in my commute, I flip back to Sports).
At some point, I get to page 3, which is a big outraged sotry with picture. The picture was of a little kid dressed as a suicide bomber. As I'm reading the article, he starts to fiddle with something in his pocket. He leans back and starts fiddling with his turban. I keep looking from this article on suicide bombing to this guy, get a disgusted look on my face, and get up and switch subway cars. I am a racist, obviously.
MY SIDE OF THE STORY
I sat down next to this guy. When I did, I smelled the strong and distinct odor of feet. As is ususal when I'm sitting on the a suybway car and I smell something disgusting, I automatically assume it's me somehow and pray no one discovers the source and humiliates me.
Now, I'd worked out at the gym for an hour and a half before I left the house, but I'd also showered after and sprayed my sneakers with foot deodorant. So I'm sitting there and the odor of feet just gets stronger and stronger. Then, this guy next to me lifts his arm over his head to fiddle with his turban, and I smell some serious B.O. I'm faced with a conundrum; do I just rudely stand up and leave, or stick it out to the next stop, get up and act like I'm leaving the train and run to the next car?
The nI realized that if this guy can't observe the basic protocols of hygiene, I certainly don't owe him any manners and get up and switch subway cars.
Interesting, no? Probably not.
