Put on Bach’s “Toccata and Fugue in D” so loud it scares the dog, (insert creepy Vincent Price laugh), dance around like a maniacal conductor in the livingroom; then on to AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long”, scrub the daylights out of the kitchen sink, and you’ll be feeling right as rain in no time…(don’t ask how I know this, I just do.)
Blaze let out one quick bark and assumed a point position every time he saw the scrinebird appear on his master’s computer.
It seems I’m always so busy, but when I finally get a chance to relax and not do anything…I feel like I’m wasting time…SHEESH!
Love what you’ve done with the place, Keith!!
The ordinary new sock is possibly the least touted of the Major Comfort Items.
where’s my lovely blue skin??
As good as laughter is for you, sighing is bad.
Yesterday I volunteered at my kid’s school, where several hundred of us put up an entire playground - cemented posts and all - and painted four-square boards and a colorful U.S. map on the asphalt, as well as planting a butterfly garden; it may well be the most useful thing I have done for anybody in the last four years.
When faced with two choices, I have an overwhelming urge to pick the one on the left, whether that option makes sense contextually or otherwise.
So I just got back from the ambulatory surgery center with my son; following a three day ordeal that started with a temper tantrum, and ended with a busted and dislocated doorframe and an even more busted and dislocated right hand (now the bruised and swollen recipient of three metal pins)…..as soon as the poor thing recovers, I’m planning to beat the everlovin’ tar out of him!!!!!
If you throw the internet and a feather from the top of a tower, which comes down first, and what does Al Gore have to say about it?
A body in motion will tend to come to rest in front of a computer connected to the internet.
A body parked in front of a computer connected to the internet will tend to remain in front of a computer connected to the internet.
Thank you, Keith.
Much to my dismay, Scrine turns two today with little to no fanfare.
“Ira needs the computer to use Skype to call Siberia.”
I’m drunk, which makes this seem like a really good idea, this one-sentence thing, when words can sprout up like cabbages only to be swallowed whole by a tiny dot.
I used to be a lot younger than I am.
Do we have a State Cocktail?
Crush one spoon of buttons, blend into the dry bugs, gradually combine with the walrus, bake for one hour and leave Becky to dry on wire racks.
Count yourself lucky; what a pretty colour.
Mix two swords well, one for the right hand, one for the left; voila, Inigo Montoya!
Take one dose of grudknows, mix well and relax.
Add a dash of frog, sing a song or two, wonder why you’re not a muppet too.
Take one duck, roll it out flat, watch it boing back up again.
Use one part rusty bird and one part mango; stir.
Add a pinch of Miss Jane, stand well back, watch the flames.
Harris blamed legislative term limits on the fact that nobody knew how long the instant creamer had been sitting in the kitchenette cupboard.
At the dentist’s this morning, a rotund woman checked in for her appointment and her name was, in fact, Rotunda.
I hate it when I know stuff and can’t tell anyone.
Fingers would be good if they had slinky-like springs in the knuckles.
what will happen to us when pam gets elected governor of california and then, as patterns have wound before, even president; we must clean up the act now, will we pass the background check?
So mice have been discovered in our school, naturally is the funniest thing yet today, but one can’t help but think…I’m paying money to go to this private school where the janitors dont clean the floors and the cooks seldom completely cook the food and we are infested with mice……..what the hell are we thinking?
Duane hid himself in the mop closet, planning his next move.
Ruth sat for a long time trying to get her mind around the concept of 100 million years.
in the past few days i must have written twenty posts, forty comments, only, ultimately, to nuke each of them after thinking, and then thinking “naaaaahhhh…”
having purchased not one, but two full flats of fresh plant city strawberries over the past weeks, i have berries popping out of my ears and—quick!—seek recipes that will sop up the ones i haven’t yet eaten out of hand or frozen as it’s such a terrible shame to freeze them, and i can only predict so many smoothies after all, and still, the berries, berries, all the fresh, if aging, berries!!
Gabe was embarrassed to tell anyone that his superpower was the ability to forget anything he was told or that he read or saw.
In his younger days, the women in George’s life were like favorite coffee cups—he had several to choose from and he never minded one bit if they were a little dirty—but that was years and years ago, and now that he’d gotten older, he mostly only had coffee cups.
“This is like, soooo lame, I can’t believe I don’t even get a super power other than students wanting to take me home at 3 in the morning.”
There’s something unsettlingly beautiful about a rusty railway bridge.
I’d like to say that I wish my hands were coloured a bit more imaginatively, perhaps so they looked like bananas or traffic cones, but I’m more than a little wary of the local mouse.
I’ve got secrets too you know, not super ones, mind you, but they’re plenty secret enough.
Someone’s grocery list blew into my backyard; they prefer Virginia baked ham but can’t spell bananas.
Grud visited Scrine for the first time in weeks and felt an overwhelming sense of confusion - ‘but what’s the point?’ she muttered before noticing the clock and frantically preparing for work.
Pointillism is perfectly perfidious to clarity.
I clearly have been watching The Honeymooners.
My perfidy is clearly my point.
My perfection points clearly toward perfidy.
My clarity is perfectly pointed.
My point is perfectly clear.
The plan for world domination included a leading phalanx of sick two-year-olds, for the ultimate intimidation of the enemy.
It was clearly a dream about my self-withdrawal, but I still don’t understand why the courtroom was at the mall (goddammit! another mall dream! am I going insane?), the unusual collection of characters from my past, or the purpose of the swap meet outside, or for that matter, how my son knew how to hotwire that car.
I would have hugged him.
It cannot just be me that believes a company doesn’t deserve your money if you called to let them know you were moving (7 minutes on hold to say “please read meter, send bill to new address”) but who were incapable of sending it to the new address (“why isn’t he paying, we keep sending it to the address he told us he was leaving?”; it wasn’t as though they didn’t know, it’s why they read the meter early!!!) and employ a debt collection agency (several more minutes on hold) - whose remit, incidentally, does NOT include reporting to the company in question (for the sake of this retelling I’ll call them “Freaking Idiots Incorporated (evidence suggests they have incorporated a lot of them)” because let’s face it, they are) why they haven’t been paid - to chase you over the sum of AUD$20.
It’s full of very weird people in cat-suits, that’s for sure.
Luckily, thought Juan, I still have that English Sheepdog costume my daughter wore for Halloween last year which, with some minor modification, will easily convert into the furry costume that’s gonna be exactly what’s needed for Keith’s stranger-leg-humping-in-front-of-dogs experiment.
Perhaps I just woke up on the cranky side of the bed this morning, but if I see one more movie with a neatly wrapped up, happily-ever-after ending; I am going to climb up to my roof, shout “WHY NOT ME???”, then jump.
Having finally gotten the sprinkler timers set to deal with the pattern established by two weeks of hot, dry weather, the sky has opened up.
Is the cat behaving in an immoral way?
There is nothing quite so enjoyable as a game of cat and mouse.
I have found Purgatory to not be nearly as bad as the nuns told me given that on Fridays I have dinner with Jimmy Hoffa and Sundays Abbie Hoffman stops buy to tell dirty jokes
There’s nothing, nothing I could say to prepare you for this post over at The Sneeze.
Why are there separate colors in the first place; I like all of them pretty well, but I’m glad they’re not all gray and brown.
and, meandering through the showrooms, I gathered a cartload of wire shelving, cookware and wicker baskets, with which I constructed a giant set of chimes in the Home Ideas Department, as a shrine to the ancient Swedish gods of efficiency.
We picked random numbers out of a hat and called it a day on our taxes.
I’m gonna invent an option in iTunes that is “Random-play-but-don’t-even-think-about-including-Christmas-tunes in March.”
“Get ‘em out of my way,” says Frank Zappa, clearly referring to the hordes of unintelligent students who insist on wearing their pajamas to college classes.
I know the car wreck in my dreams is symbolic, and I give thanks it wasn’t a train wreck.
Subbody gabe me a code.
What’s been happening?
Life’s been really full and busy and there’s been lots of interesting stuff to do, but that means I haven’t been here much.
He released the demons from hell, all with the face of Hello Kitty.
The dream started off with such high hopes—I would ride my bike down to the mall and buy a diamond for the space ship (a part I think was called the elevation oscillator, although now that I’m awake seems to be more of a compass-stuck-to-the-end-of-a-gearshift kind of thing) and then ride back to the house in time to trim a few shrubs in the back yard and maybe even re-edge the bed, which seemed too small and out of proportion to the plants—but then I came out of the mall and it was already getting dark—damn mall!, sucking up time! why in dreams don’t I stick to the waking life plan of only going inside once a year around Christmas?—and I knew there wasn’t time for anything; but just then my son’s dog, Zorro, showed up and jumped clear over my head, making me laugh.
When my ship finally came in, it had been raided by pirates a few miles offshore and drifted to harbor stripped of anything valuable.
I wish I always knew what to do next.
After using the chainsaw as hedgeclippers for a few hours, he looked up to realize that half the neighborhood was out on lawn chairs to watch the sport.
I’m sure I’d drink more if the store around the corner could go a whole month without having its liquor license suspended.*
* Which makes me wonder why they keep getting it back.
At first I was confused by the pinpoint cool breeze blowing from behind me while the rest of the air seemed so warm, but then I realized I’d split my pants.
Our neighborhood is so dull this morning that even the hawk who’s been circling on the lookout for hours just flew off without finding anything worth swooping down for.
When did ten-year-olds turn into teenagers already?
Jessica the dyslexic masseuse comped the new client’s massage when he showed her his notepad which read: Please be patient, I am deaf-mute and I suffer from lysdexia.
“Actually, Sylvester, it’s pronounced Uff-cka,” said Ingersoll, the pedantic, dyslexic, Tourette’s-suffering, Minnesotan cousin of Jessica and Sylvester.
Tim fought his slow, steady battle with albinism under the glaring lights of the spa’s tanning beds, listening as Sylvester’s string of misspoken curses rattling the room’s door like some long-forgotten ogreish battle hymn.
“Ufck!” exclaimed Sylvester, Jessica the dyslexic masseuse’s dyslexic, Tourette’s-suffering brother.
Blind James didn’t want to pay Jessica the dyslexic masseuse’s massage bill, but he couldn’t see any way out of it.
“If I were going to commit suicide by food, I would not do it here,” thought Juan, rather ungraciously, eyeing the 500lb man in line ahead of him.
Score! thought Juan when his daughter turned to him after eating her first-ever Weinerschnitzel hotdog and announced, “That was awful, let’s never do that again.”
Carter, Begin and Sadat,
Brezhnev, Deng and Castro
everyday negotiate us
closer to disastro.
James tried to like her, but there was just something about Jessica the dyslexic masseuse that rubbed him the wrong way.
Willard discovered, to his dismay, that a cocktail of aspirin, multivitamins, antacid and the leftover alcohol in his system did nothing to improve his hangover and left him feeling rather nauseated.
Finding Juan slumped face-down on his desk drooling on his Daytimer, Cindi quickly examined his Med-Alert bracelet which instructed: If found unresponsive and drooling, administer coffee, STAT.
With the angry dogs of war on one side of the field screaming for blood, and the relatively peaceful, yet irate-when-provoked asparagus lords on the other screaming for juice, Tim found himself fascinated, not by the carnage about to unfold but by the seemingly self-defeating war cries.
“… Westin’s signature Heavenly Beds with 13-inch pillowtop mattresses, down pillows, white duvets & triple sheeting as well as high-speed Internet access.”
12-year-old Amelia told her father that her first dip in the new pool was going to be a skinny dip—and it was.
If everyone in the world walked around nude, the hairy man would be king—at least during the cold of winter.
If everyone in the world walked around nude, wallets wouldn’t make much sense, and men would be forced to start carrying purses.
If everyone in the world walked around nude, would you be more likely to stay in or go out?
When Rictus Rita met Smilin’ Johnny she knew it was kismet.
All he ever did was walk around smiling uncontrollably, so everyone just called him the Johnny Appleseed of Happiness; well, actually, what they mostly did was call the police because all that smiling made them nervous.
There is a drum circle banging and chanting nearby but I can’t see them no matter how I crane my neck out the window, which makes just makes it more annoying.
She went to sleep in bed and woke up every morning in the car with coffee steaming in the cupholder.
Juan realized with a start that he was still talking to his wife—some nonsense about raising turtles and tortoises—several minutes after he was asleep, and he decided he’d better shut up before she figured out he was asleep and might decide to query his uninhibited self on subjects more incriminating.
I’d’ve thought y’all would’ve agreed it’s Jason’s sister’s friend’s aunt’s dog’s fleas’ friend ‘mouse’s apostrophe use that’s made the baby Jesus cry.
There are those who argue that Jarlsberg cheese and wheat thins are not diet food, but they’re wrong
I know you use a carrot to lure a shy rabbit out of hiding, but what do you use to lure a carrot?
Y’know, I’m down with this whole global warming thing and the need to do something about it, but doesn’t Al Gore come off just a wee bit too Chicken Little-ish?
Juan was pretty sure that if he ever needed to impress a freudian therapist he could tell them of the time when he was 10 years old and he had to reach his arm up inside a goat (his arm being the smallest) to turn a breech-birth kid, and if that wasn’t enough, he could tell of being 12 years old and having to help surgically castrate piglets.
Julie washed her hair, put on a flattering bra and little makeup and headed out to the mailbox to return her feminist card.
There isn’t much you can make with a jar of mayonnaise, some mustard, and some pickles.
As they pinned his entry number on his shirt, Henry tried to recall actually signing up for the 1000 mile seatless bike ride, but drew a blank.
Juan finally figured out what was making him feel anxious—the clouds were clearly moving east to west.
The good news is I owe almost exactly what I guessed I would owe in taxes; the bad news is I owe almost exactly what I guessed I would owe in taxes.
Dumbfounded, the scientists couldn’t believe their discovery—the world didn’t orbit the sun, but rather zipped around the cosmos in a rather herky-jerky fashion, driven by a teenage god who appeared to be searching for some sort of legendary lake of burpless root beer.
As inspired by: Some of the 12,000+ references Google reveals on a "+Pinocchio +Phallic" search
“The Pigeon itself, as every bird, is the symbol of the genital… .”
When Pinocchio ran away, Geppetto was sad for a couple of days, but then pulled himself together by going into his workshop and building a little puppet he named Internet, who just like all of Geppetto’s puppets, dreamed of becoming a real boy that could grow up and march in peace rallies, except that Internet’s dream was shattered when he realized that the picket sign he’d so carefully written with his real-boy hands kept turning into an advertisement for bigger penises, causing the other protesters to boo and hiss and throw rocks at him, which Internet found not only ironic, but painful.
The library was the garden
where my mother took me for
swimming lessons and I
learned to drown.
Typepad should include a 24-hour cooling off period for the ranting comments you post on other people’s blogs.
It’s good that the rain doesn’t just come down in one big sheet of water.
When he opened his eyes each morning, the tiny, worn sticks and polished stones were always there, smooth and shiny, worn down from years of constant tumbling within his dreams, then washed from his head while he slept, anxious to be combed.
Try as she might, Rosa was unable to make the gray overcast sky clear nor could she, through force of will alone, make the universe treat her friends nicely.
The fweece might be white as snow, but it was a bugger to shear.
A plague of editors descended upon the city quickly and horribly, shortening all the sentences, correcting every passive verb tense, enforcing the serial comma law, and terrifying those using improper apostrophes so deeply the authorities sent them to the countryside to recover.
Spring can be so tacky, what with all those “flowers” and “buds” and “bunnies hopping” and shit.
Minimalist Jones owned quite a few hats, which hung from the hooks in his hall,
Each to be worn for special occasions, his collection not excessive at all -
The bowler, for instance, he wore only for courting, the Panama went well with white slacks,
The boater for singing, the Shtreimel for fun, the pork pie for playing his sax,
A busby or garrison for special parades, a sombrero for eating burritos,
A deerstalker for times of inclement weather and a burqa for fighting mosquitoes;
And down near the end was a cabbage-tree hat, that sat all alone on a shelf,
“That one,” he’d say, “is a one of a kind - a gift I received from an elf.”
Harvey used to get a thrill jogging just before dawn in his black tracksuit.
I’m missing something I’ve had for quite a few months and I’ve never felt happier.
I can recall every little detail in her hands, so I instead perhaps should say thank you.
Oh yeah, you’re around when it’s painful, when there are details we don’t want to recall, there you are, and, yeah, you’re just so damn helpful when it comes to recalling exactly what it was when maybe we shouldn’t have done something, but where were you for all the years of conversations with the people now gone, where were you when we were watching them walk, watching them live, watching the beauty, where the hell were you then, hey, and, you know, of course you’re never to be seen if it’s something important, something I pleaded with you never to forget, so, you know what I think, I think you can just fuck off, yeah that’s what I think.
What I want to know is; does Keith celebrate his birthday in conjunction with Bob and Henry (and are dinosaurs involved)?
Seven generations of Maori priestesses could not undo the mischief of Toki, the boy, if legends are to be believed, who tricked Tangaroa, god of the ocean and the ancestor or origin of all fish, into inventing canned tuna fish.
For one thousand years the ghost of Bill Gates roamed the bedrooms of the poor, rummaging through the loose change hidden in the underwear drawers of the frightened men, women and children, seeking out their quarters, but shrieking in agony each and every time he came upon one, rediscovering time and time again that his lifeless fingers couldn’t pick it up.
Paul wandered beneath the cherry blossoms, wanting nothing more than to be alone in their beauty.
All watched over by billionaires of loving grace, Henry emptied the change from his underwear drawer and went grocery shopping.
Tom tried to warn us of the coming scourge.
Never underestimate the value of a nap.
If I had a million bucks, I’d give some to you, and we could begin a Scriner’s voyage to exotic lands.
Let the drinking of the Guinness commence!!!!!!
Holy ice storm, Batman!
In honor of St. Patrick’s Day, Juan switched from scotch to Irish Whiskey.
The man who knows his blessings knows contentment.
The willow tree bent over its babbling brook, content to be where it was, unlike the traveler resting briefly in its cool shade.
Our holidays each have a color, oppressively enough.
Come out and drive the tractor, the bird chirped through the window, and so I did.
i can’t even really complain about my lousy day since, when i did slice my finger on the paper cutter, apparently i didn’t hit anything bad and i was able to grab it before either it bled too much OR the kids saw it, and got it bound up with multiple bandaids well enough to drive home where the antibiotics—which we don’t even have at school since, apparently, because the nurse is prohibited from ever putting same on the kids, it’s verboten— were, on which trip, when i hit a pothole and my tire later shredded on I4, i was able to pull over behind a towtruck already in service there and plead for him to call my own roadside assistance since my pay-as-you-go emergency car phone hasn’t been working for weeks because i haven’t been able to figure out why it isn’t topping itself up properly and so now when i need it i haven’t got it, but then a DOT “road ranger” happened along and, as the rain that earlier had spoiled the kids’ “walkathon” friday had stopped and it was now a beautiful sunny afternoon, changed my tire into the donut for me before my own paid-for emergency assistance ever arrived anyway and so really i was only an hour late beginning spring break; are we there yet?
It was high time she stopped feeding that bear.
Greffel kept the spare heads on a stone shelf in the back of the cave, next to the clock.
I will not be attending the Beasley School of Law at Temple University in the fall.
Congrats on 500—you’re halfway to enlightenment… or something.
Julius decided he would not rest until he’d collected 500GB of good music, which he estimated would give him exactly 365 days of 24-hour-a-day music with no repeats.
I suppose it’s illegal to place a yellow page ad claiming to be an assassin for hire, but what if I advertised a slightly less illegal business, like the Will Speed For You Company, or Goose Hunting Out Of Season Guide Service, or even White Shoes Before Easter Escort Service.
It was a familiar and comforting sight to the people of the city to see her riding her trusty unicycle with her family, each one on his or her own pair of stilts or bouncy boots.