go to youtube and type in “greyfilms”, pick the stick video, watch once, and then watch a ninja combat one (board action), if we get 100 views on a single video the stunts will increase majorly, also then we could upgrade our filming equipment, please visit!!!!!!!!!
The load shifted, crushing little Amber’s arm between a heavy redwood beam and the side of the truck, and as Juan swooped her up and comforted her, he awoke from the nightmare only to realize that he had to re-enter the dream to find out if the arm was broken or just badly bruised.
Just when I thought I’d discovered that relationships were similar to the building of railway tunnels, I read in Volume 131 of the I.C.S. Reference Libary, Mechanics, Strength of Materials, Hydraulic Motors, that they are, in fact, based more upon Bernoulli’s law dealing with fluids and flow—“In the case of frictionless flow, Bernoulli’s law asserts that the total energy contained in a given mass of liquid at any section is the same as the energy of the same mass at any other section… however, perfectly frictionless flow is never attained, and that, as the flow proceeds, the energy of the mass of liquid gradually decreases.
The world would be much more fun if all the drunk people wore a cow suit.
They say that Pavarotti’s voice came from so deep down that sometimes while he was singing meatballs would pop out and roll across the stage, but I don’t for sure if it’s true, since I’m not a meatball expert.
When your friends and relatives tell you that they’ve already heard that story of yours a million times, remind them that you are living the CNN Lifestyle™ now, and that repeating yourself, no matter how many times, is considered excellent storytelling.
When the economy goes bottom-up and all hell breaks loose in your life, remember that you are living the CNN Lifestyle™ now and that, as a recent report says, “Greed is no longer fashionable!”
I went away.
Juan’s wife, who it seemed weighed hardly more than a large housecat, always managed to sound like a good sized elephant walking across the hardwood floor.
“I am not without my regrets,” Mrs. Perkins once wrote in her diary, “and it is on glorious Spring mornings such as this one—when the air is fresh and crisp and the day that seems to hold such promise of calm and refreshing redemption is shattered by the nerve rattling screams of that precocious child next door—yes, it is on mornings just such as this that I regret not giving in to that child’s incessant pleading for a slice of the Bundt cake I had prepared especially for his equally bothersome father.”
How is it that no matter how carefully I read, or how carefully I review my notes, or how prepared I am at the start of class, my ass is handed to me at the end of every class, every damn time, without fail?
The TI-89 seemed to smile to the room at large, because it knew, in the way that all calculators with a hint of artificial intelligence know, that it was smarter than the grad-school freshman who always tried to push its buttons.
Sure, you can be friends with your ex…Providing you’re over him.
Chairs today weren’t built for sitting; The ones that were are in places that aren’t for being.
Remember our early devotion and the love of our bridal days and how we followed you lovingly through the desert, and spare us from the harsh decree.
Being a fellow who made odd and disconnected associations, he’d always found the dancing patter of Flamenco guitar oddly spooky, goosebumps rising on his pale flesh whenever the dulcet tones were heard.
As the man in front of her tried to sit at her table, clearly full of uneaten food, fresh coffee and a book waiting to be read, the look she turned on him fairly turned his blood to ice and made him flee the premises at speed.
According to my my recently acquired 1908 copy of I.C.S. Reference Library, Volume 132, Stone, Brick, Concrete Foundations, Culverts, Tunnels, and Dams: “The cost of constructing tunnels is comparatively so great, and the consequences of a blunder so far reaching, that an error in location is a very serious matter;” I can only imagine that 100 years ago, the word “location” must have somehow actually meant “judgement.”
He turned his promise of silence slowly between his thoughts the way an arsonist might delight in the feel of an unlit match.
When I said, “Can this economy get any worse?” I didn’t mean it as a challenge.
The chief found it somewhat irritating that the Mormon boys couldn’t take their eyes off the prize long enough to watch where they were peeing.
When my parents asked me “wouldn’t you rather be a porta-potty servicer,” I knew that my dreams of becoming an actor would be short-lived.
The small, purple, baby long-neck dinosaur had always envied the the t-rex, because he rather liked the taste of stegosaurus, but daddy long-neck was an herbivore and didn’t approve of looked down upon meat-eaters.
The reason he hasn’t told you that his greatest fear is that he will be buried alive is because he is too busy, with too much work and too many responsibilities, to take a breath or think a thought or have a conversation with someone like you from beneath all this massive weight, trapped in this little box, struggling to breathe, alone in the dark.
In time, his empty wallet would become his own scarlet letter, a badge of economical disgrace and position thrust upon him by greedy faces he would know only in his troubled, vengeful dreams.
He stood proud in his chaps, buns flexed and nipples taut against the cold; since he had found San Francisco his life had improved a thousand fold.
Even practicing almost every day, I’m still not as good a liar as I’d like to be.
He’d tried using the pistol, but even bullets seemed to veer away from her icy cold stare.
The problem with school is how neverending the tasks are; they’re as relentless as a toddler.
If only Sunday evening filled me with the same sort of quiet, happy promise for the future that Sunday morning does.
One of my favorite words is “moron,” followed closely by “dipshit” and “asshat.”
The mellophones blasted harmony, and the trumpets the sad, sweet melody; The band formed themselves into very large versions of all of those things that I tried to draw during a close pictionary game in 1999, but I had no ears for the music, and no eyes for the awkward larger-than-life depictions; I could only watch the girl in pigtails at the 50, and try to imagine what her counting off would sound like were I able to hear it.
Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream is, by far, my least favorite, but it won’t stop me from kissing the cold, melted, green drops off of her lips after her favorite dessert.
I know that it sounds cliche, but I asked my girlfriend to prom by playing Hellogoodbye’s “Will you go to prom with me?”
Happiness is looking out your living room window at a sun-saturated day that you cannot enjoy because you have a paper to write and a staggering amount of reading to do…and then your pal shows up at your front door with a pair of iced coffees.
Sometimes, blinking through tears inexplicable for a man of my age and position, I am overcome with the conviction that poets should run the world, at least for a while.
Wishing to update the famous post-beheading experiments of Dr. Beaurieux, and to determine once and for all the existence of heaven and hell, Juan asked his dying friends to contact him after death via AOL-IM if they went to hell and scrine-chat if there was a heaven, since AOL certainly wouldn’t work there.
did i ever tell you that i possess a pair of english arts & crafts style armoires (they call them wardrobes) which i use for book cupboards, one of which has the ballpoint inscription “to the new tenant: the landlord is a fucking poof” on the inside door, back of the mirror?
If your house giraffe is to remain healthy, it is important to schedule daily walks of at least thirty minutes; on windy days, however, walks should be avoided, or at the very least, scheduled for the evening hours in order to avoid your giraffe becoming tangled in the neighborhood children’s kite strings.
If 3rd-grade-educated child labor in Malaysia can assemble computer monitors, why the hell can’t I get this damn thing back together properly?
Attending James Madison’s Inaugural Ball in 1809 was quite a treat, even if I can’t get the taste of Dolley’s oyster ice cream off my tongue.
I’m going to fashion crude weapons out of the gingerbread men from Candyland and storm the Hasbro compound in order to teach them a lesson in the benefits of keeping the people happy.
Futility, thy name is “click to join a game.”
Sometimes it comes carved in wood and sometimes on scraps of yellowed paper, but always it is mysterious and wonderful.
They took my words away and I shall never forgive them.
Is where your heart is.
Economically speaking, the excrement has attempted to occupy the same space as the rotary cooling device.
A new desk is even better than a new pen or pencil.
In different times I might not eat the can of spaghetti sauce with a “Best By” date two seasons past, but then I’m not sure Congress has me earmarked for any of that bail out money, and even if they do, I’m hungry now.
The ghost of JP Morgan yawned and stretched painfully cramped muscles atrophied from 95 years in the ground – the late mega banker, befuddled, wondered who dared disturb his rest as he tried to clear the fog from his spirit-mind – only to learn from a great, great grandson, whose name he can’t recall, that once again the U.S. economy – twice saved by him during his life – needed his help once again.
“She has not been engaged in national issues, does not have a repertoire of historic patterns and, like President Bush, she seems to compensate for her lack of experience with brashness and excessive decisiveness.” - David Brooks, on Palin and why she should withdraw from the ticket.
To stimulate the long dead economy of Squeak Creek, Mayor Wilson would often walk the streets on Saturday nights, passing out controversial “2-years off any drug conviction” coupons.
My daugthers only have to wake up from screaming nightmares of financial ruin and global warming, whereas my generation had to worry about being minutes away from nuclear annilihilation after we walked to and from school in the snow, barefoot, uphill both ways.
Here, in the midst of these troubled times, I just received a $10-off coupon from my local liquor store.
Even though I showed up at the door shirtless, his family was most receptive and friendly, except for the house goats, who pestered me so much I was forced to wake up.
I take up arms for levity and stand my ground, gravity be damned.
In the past six weeks I’ve read about 100 cases, all detailing man’s inhumanity to man, everything from the beating death of a child to a guy at a company Christmas party shocking his coworkers with an automobile condenser (or, as one of my peers calls it, “battery with a battery”), but it was only after I received a piece of junk mail for a study guide, which said, in no uncertain terms, “we know that all you REALLY care about is getting an A, and you’ll NEVER get those by briefing cases or talking to your professors, no, the only way you’ll get that A is if you come to our stupid-ass seminar,” that my dander was officially up.
I drove all night, fueled on Oreos, milk and Cyndi Lauper.
Wading through the clutter, the chief imagined this is what it would look like if Sears blew up.
Just whose idea was it to design the browser so that the currently viewed window would automatically and quickly print if the cursor passed over a nearly invisible printer icon, leading some people to have to dash across the office to the network printer to retrieve pictures of small furry animals with large flat tails that were being viewed for purely investigatory purposes?
Our opinions on various issues change as we succumb to the slow humiliation that time, chipping steadily away through lesson after lesson at the cocksure bravado of our youthful genius, brings to the broken remains of our smiling, senile psyche, leaving the real intelligence of humility in it aftermath.
Bronwyn knew that life had changed when her husband announced from the bathroom, “well, there *are* mosquitoes in California, and this one got at least one of us, because when I killed it, it was full of blood,” and her first thought wasn’t “eeeeeeeep, we need mosquito netting nowwwwwwww!,” but rather, ”dude, I’m trying to read the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure here.”
“Cat Mistress” and “Laundry Maven” were two categories that didn’t especially impress the temp agency representative.
God, if you are listening, I take back all the cruel things I said about Ms. Palin—clearly she is your chosen one—and I really can’t deal with another banker who can’t find my check and doesn’t care, another hard drive failure, another broken sprinkler head, another flat tire, another broken bone (wife’s toe this time), another mystery electrical problem in my car…
I hate sales people…they are what is wrong with post modern life - well, that and attorneys…religious fanatics…politicians…I’d better stop now this list could take all day.
She fought hard to keep her feelings from escaping her lips and destroying everything she had suffered to achieve.
All my brain are belong to SCOTUS.
Alcoholism is hereditary; you get it from your kids.
The email asked if I wanted a “triple AAA size love maker” which in battery lingo is much smaller than I have now, and If I were concerned about such things I would prefer to go with a size D – if not void or prohibited by law – but, really, the email reminds me of that poor schmuck who asked a genie for a penis that touched the floor and was horrified to see his legs grow shorter and shorter
Fed be nimble,
Fed be quick,
Fed grabbed money
Awful slick.
Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum!
I smell the funds of Americans,
Be they live, or be they dead
I’ll tax their bones to make my bread!
In order to raise money for the Fed’s proposed $700 billion dollar bail out of AIG there will be a charity car wash on the White House lawn this Saturday from 10 AM to 5 PM, the Republican Boosters will be selling freedom toast and freedom fries and Palin and Coulter will hit the mud in all out white girl cat fight – be there or be liberal!
It gives me some comfort that, even though somewhere in the background a radio blathers doom about the economy, the Fed just can’t seem to raise my interest on this day, though in some homes, or so I’ve heard, values are down so low that families can’t pay attention to each other any more and no one is taking credit and no one is giving credit and credit is coming due and on every frequency English majors are spinning math, going off on tangents, wondering who will cosign now that the markets are exhausted and looking for a place to crash, because I’m not overly taxed by any of this, since none of these are material losses for me, as I lie here with you, taking stock of all your assets, investing in bonds, exploring your options, leveraging insider information, presenting a tender offer, my interest compounding by the second. (Adapted from a blog post I did a few months ago.)
Watching the news tonight, I found myself missing Bella Abzug, who, no doubt, would have a few things to say about the state of the nation.
I wonder if St. Joseph of Cupertino is willing to barter his extraordinary test-taking luck in exchange for baked goods—a nice cassata, for example.
As inspired by: 'mouse's Waxing options for the progressive woman
The Merry Maids of Windsor County, Oklahoma understood that many of their clients thought pubic hair to be conceptually comic, but knew that if any one of these aforementioned clients were responsible for cleaning their own toilets the resulting experience would leave them more sober.
The infamous Gabrielle De Angelis, interior designer to the Pope, hoped to sway the former Cardinal Ratzinger – now Benedict XVI – away from the harsh lines and grey colors of his preferred Teutonic Realism as it conjured up crusaders and dead Muslims beheaded and burned alive for the love Jesus, but given his insensitive remarks about Islam and his love of medieval Scholasticism, De Angelis supposed that it was fanciful thinking on his part and it was quite possible that a new Holy Inquisition would soon be instituted at the further expense of Muslims, common sense and science – the designer noted, almost wryly, that women, homosexuals and protestants were somewhere near the top of the list as well.
These really should be stolen and added to the Scrine comics section, but I’m too worried about copyright lazy to figure out how to do it—instead see them in their original glory here.
It’s gotten so bad that, like a sad sack with scratch-off residue lodged beneath his fingernails, desperately hoping to wish away his low-key tragedy of a life in Lotto investments, I sometimes harbor this fantasy that a bunch of homosexuals will break into my apartment (not as sexy as it sounds), then dramatically toss the contents of my dresser out the window, throw me into their Ford Escape (a proud sponsor of the reality show in my head), and re-build my wardrobe and home furnishings from scratch.
- From Todd Levin. If you don’t know him, know him. (http://www.tremble.com/)
“To my credit,” Milton the Bastard told the officer, “I have never intentionally kicked a kid very hard.”
Creepy old guy and the naughty librarian at the helm of the empire; never.
My world can be crashing down around me, but when he jumps in my lap and places his little paw on my heart, everything seems to right itself…
Tired of watching the same old hijinx when he had the foxes guard the chicken coop, Farmer Bush decided to follow the recommendation of the foxes and outsource henhouse security duty to a committee of blind moles.
You may have the key to my heart, but I changed the damn lock.
When no one is looking Ben Bernanke locks himself in his office, pulls the blinds tight and takes his Alan Greenspan bobble head out of its box – staring at it for hours he likes to strike Greenspan on the head and mutter, “Whose your bitch now?
I would have a lot more respect for Republicans—hell, I might even vote for them—if their administrations just once resulted in actual lower taxes and smaller government and less interference in my rights.
Just to torture him, each morning she put out an irresistable frosty mug of orange juice just after he’d brushed his teeth.
The complex seemed filled with professional Indian women who’d gotten married, followed their husbands to the U.S., and as a result, could no longer practice their professions (so far he’d encountered a pharmacist and a dentist); “If I could only meet a doctor,” the chief told himself, “I could set up a clinic in a vacant 3-bedroom and make myself a nice little profit.”
A million million lessons might be learned from this sorry case, but this morning, I’m taking just one lesson away: Never act as a front for your disbarred, convicted-felon buddies.
It always irritated Milton how slow his one-armed wife was at ironing his socks.
It’s true what you’ve heard, the stories and such, about the band and how it broke up, about how Satan played lead guitar and God played bass, about wills locked in passionate contention, about pressures mounting, about the eventual splintering and the subsequent fall.
A source close to God – speaking anonymously – reports that Jesus has declined an offer to make a cameo appearance in the upcoming apocalypse and, the Son of Man, has been overheard saying that if McCain-Palin succeed in setting off a war with Iran, we are on our own.
Does this Scrine make my ass look fat?
Life is really not so absurd when you cut back the thin veneer of the lies we tell ourselves to feel better – Santa Claus, God, Justice or a Beatles reunion – and just behold our own faces staring back at us from the abyss.
“She died alone because she always held hope that he would come home.”
As John’s Camero spun donuts in Mrs. Watson’s prize rose garden he was heard to shouting something about “putting the petal to the metal.”
Ivan first realized that burying tall people “six feet under” was inadequate when he saw several ghosts moving around the cemetary with the crowns of their heads showing through the grass.
In lieu of a real job, she waited until her friends were out of the room before she ransacked the couch for spare change.
You cannot live on the horizon because it cannot be approached from any direction.
I wonder if the gnomes that live under the rose bush are any nicer than the ones that live under the cactus plant.
The sounds coming from 505 – the moaning, the slapping of skin against skin and the occasional “fuck me daddy” – made Jake feel wistful as he turned to Princess saying, “You remember sex don’t you?
My father left me a legacy of baseball and I cannot attend a game without hearing his voice cheering somewhere in the crowd or catching a hint of sweat and Aramis amid the comforting aromas of hotdogs, popcorn and beer giving me the warm and certain feeling that he is still with me, but it is the loud crack of wood meeting rawhide and the ball grand slammed toward heaven as it disappears into the bright stadium lights that makes me realize that this is an apt metaphor for his soul.
Fifty pound test is not nearly strong enough when stalking the fabled Garner Marlin.
It was 1986, and she wore combat boots with her fancy ball gown.
Billy learned the hard way that “getting your wick dipped” did not involve hot wax.
Juan had smelled a lot of things in the Men’s Restroom over the past several years, but amazingly cigarette smoke was one of the rarest smells of all.
As inspired by: 'mouse's send in the zeroes
If billions were balloons, and I like to think they are, that’s well over 100 balloons for every man-woman-child in the world - Par-tay!
Rumor is the very last email ever to pass through the servers at Lehman Brothers was an invitation to a company-wide event: Let’s Party Like It’s 1929!
$700,000,000,000 here and $700,000,000,000 there and pretty soon you’re talkin’ real money.
In spite of constant picketing by The Blandists, who simply refused to believe in the everlasting life of seasonings, the All You Can Eat Spaghetti Night in Heaven always had a nice turnout.
Unable to amuse themselves, the many kings of Benton County would often walk the aisles of their local Wal-Mart, granting eye contact with their loyal subjects.
This sentence will be really boring when the Pirate Day feature is deactivated!
Mini-kegs are cool, I guess, but I’m trying to invent a tabletop mini-cow, so we’ll always have fresh milk at home.
if it weren’t for all these damn trees, i might be able to see the forest.
Devon’s mother retarded his artistic spirit by giving him a Methodist coloring book and insisting he color within the lines.
I am not a giggleworm!
If I had known then what I know now I would have slept in then played hooky to go to the zoo.
The troubled life of a woman at sea was long and hair-raising, but it would have been a damn sight longer if only she’d seen the iceberg coming.
Ah, the life of a pirate is made happy with the simplest pleasures; beer, the open sea, a sodding huge pile of gold coins.
You may well be able to have fun with words, but eventually someone will get hurt (falling off their chair with laughter).
She knew she had her latest victim convert when, on uttering the word Guinness, the woman’s eyes sparkled in lusty anticipation.
I knew I had found my happy new home when, after a few minutes of unexpected pirate talk, not one lady or lad blinked an eye, they just laughed at me and forged ahead.
I’m betting that porridge sounds more exciting in the land of pirates and wenches.
r
The moment I looked into her emerald green eyes I knew I was in trouble.
Henry’s mood turned wistful each fall as the crispness of the air and the plumed colors of the trees signaled the end of bikini season and young women everywhere traded their miniscule summer clothing and flip flops for heavy wool sweaters and hiking boots.
On cool fall afternoons Henry took his coffee down to the old wood bridge that crossed Miller’s creek to play Pooh Sticks with his imaginary friends Piglet and Eyeore, and as each little piece of tree floated wistfully away he wished he could call on his old friends Winnie and Christopher who, no doubt, were just nestling into warm overstuffed recliners at the House on Pooh Corner for a mid afternoon snack of tea and English biscuits slathered in honey or strawberry jam.
Since when, if I rob a bank and one of the dye packets explodes and ruins a bunch of the money, can I apply to the government to replace it?
Juan looked up from his desk and discovered that over the past several years he had nearly inadvertently collected sailing ship models, bookends and drawings—perhaps it meant something.
As he barreled down th’ ocean in his auld schooner Juan were bein’ certain there were few thin’s in life better than th’ open sea.
As he barreled down the highway in his old truck Juan was certain there were few things in life better than the open road.
Being an overly abstracted person, Gerald never excelled in sports because, rather than engaging mentally in the activity at hand or the larger ideas of strategy and endgame, Gerald would often wander in his mind into wondering what it might feel like, were he a soccer ball, to be struck soundly with the toe of a cleat and, contracting and then exploding into the air, sail thirty or forty yards into the waiting net.
Even though I haven’t spent a night behind bars in nearly 30 years, it’s good to know that when one of my friends receives an unknown call from a number in my state that they don’t recognize, the first thing that comes to his mind is, “Maybe Keith’s in jail.”
so google has a new picasa, picasa3, and it makes it much easier to set up a screensaver that plays out the contents of your picasa pictures—that’s ALL your picasa pictures which, if you use picasa, as i do, to document virtually every breath you take, includes everything on your hard drive, all pics on all your blogs out there in all of webspace—makes it all look better than any picture you ever saw before and, in general, is little less than your very life passing again before your eyes.
So…everyone one gets mildew wear, imprinted with goats.
Please don’t let him be naked please don’t let him be naked please don’t let him be naked, not today, not again.
i (who speak in third person but seldom) responded to apple’s support questionnaire, but i’m afraid i wasn’t quite clear enough as i forgot to add “ihateyouihateyouihateyou.”
who knows what tomorrow is?
The months sped up when he turned 40, and by the time he rounded the bases at 50 the world was nothing but a blur of faces and names.
Sometimes, over in the rundown park across the street from my high office window, magicians would gather, like a flock of agitated grackles, in the shady glen near the brackish, neglected pond where white rabbits lounged away the afternoon, unsuspecting, beneath the scrubby Indian Hawthorn.
Summer is just around the corner when I can sense the season of fruit calling.
How the hell does it hold it all in?
Days, weeks and even years go by, yet some friends always leave you with the feeling that you saw them but yesterday.
Like some sort of doom’s day survivor, the chief often prepared an evening meal consisting of nothing more than canned goods left behind by those now long gone.
What do you thing would happen to the current stock market crisis if all the daytraders and investment brokers stopped watchng the news for 1 week?