If you promise not to make pointed comments about how I can find the time to ride the train to San Francisco so that I can have brunch with a visiting East Coast friend next weekend, I will not look skeptical when you say you’ve been studying all weekend, even as I’ve just heard your cellphone conversation about your day at the beach yesterday.
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.
“Well, this has been fun, but now it’s time to unload the dishwasher.”
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.
Disproving madness is turning out to be harder than I thought.
When two polar bears, despite their republican family values abstinence only education, take a tumble in the snow during their pubescent years and end up with a baby polar bear, which Gov. Palin declares to be fantastic and throws a teddy bears picnic for a wedding.
I am highly skeptical of any product called ProCaulk; say that three times fast and you’ll know why.
You can’t tell anyone this, but I am really bad at keeping secrets.
Even though it’s true that, however skilled I’ve been with academic things, I’ve never been a fan of nor expert in mathematics, I’ve come to realize that the thing that I love best about her is related to her geometry, to angles and figures, to the calculus of our relative positions juxtaposed in three dimensional space.
I never asked her permission for that kiss, I simply asked her to forgive me.
Is tuna casserole really retro or is it just lazy in the same way Top Ramen is a noodle dish?
Spontaneous time travel began to wear on Henry’s last nerve as he always left his clothes behind in a heap finding himself bare ass in some random moment, but it was keeping track of his car keys that was the real problem as he had more places to lay them down and walk off.
Einstein proposed legislation that every vagina should come with an user’s manual because, while the clitoris was easy to find, not every woman was wired the same, but Schrödinger’s cat believed that while it may be easy to find you still couldn’t prevent it from going into hiding due to third party mismanagement, so why add an additional layer of inefficient government bureaucracy to an already overstressed situation, but Einstein countered by reminding his incorrigible feline friend of their trip to the Vagina Monologs which clearly demonstrated that having a hoo hoo did not mean you knew anything about it or how to use it, leaving the cat to concede, but adding that ‘men didn’t like to stop and ask directions anyway so what good what is a user’s manual in the first place?
I want to write a CSI episode where the layers of crud on the victim’s glasses provide critical clues, or maybe it’ll be an accident caused by impaired visibility—one of those.
…with chrome, in chrome, of chrome, with google chrome, chrome is, google chrome is, out google, google chrome, fi…
No matter how many times it happens to me, I’m still surprised when it happens again.
No, seriously, it says the last move was “Keith with ‘goat.’”
When you run into an old friend on the street, and the friend asks you “so how’s [name of spouse/lover/significant other]?” and your first reaction is to growl “fucker’s not dead yet,” maybe that’s a sign that it’s time to break up.
Not that I have anything against enlightenment, but are there any milestones that are marked with yarn, or at least an afternoon at the yarn store?
Whenever the leaves start to paint themselves for flying away I am always wistful, remembering that fall in the garden, the tree from which we ate that fruit, the new truths I learned looking deep into your eyes, the way it all ended so suddenly and angrily when we were caught, that look of guilty shame on your lovely, downcast face that always send howls echoing through my wicked, wakened soul.
All hail the mighty goat: you provide us with much amusement, disgusting sexual banter and even, from time to time, a good bleating (or maybe it’s sheep that bleat…)
The Cheerios Batman Launcher is extremely inferior, so if the Penguin ever shows up at your house and that’s all you’ve got, believe me, bat friends, you’re in real trouble.
He chews on electrical cords, the little bastard.
Old coffee is a friend to no one.
I have a great deal of politics-related bile welling up from within and I fear that if not expelled soon, it will color my entire world a sickly yellow.
When the applicant pointed out that her husband’s job before becoming a missionary had been at Starbucks, the chief couldn’t help but say, “Coffee and God - both important jobs.”
It’s my damn book idea and you can’t steal it.
How come we don’t read about more explosions caused by fireflies near gas stations, Wilbur wondered as he filled his tank and nervously eyeed the nearby field.
While it isn’t very popular right now I am still a Marxist, and I have seen Sarah Palin naked!
I love these things so much that I would skip eating for 24 hours just so I could have one for breakfast the next day.
Much to Lydia’s consternation, the trial court refused to consider her having an earworm stuck in her head—specifically “No! No! A Thousand Times No!”—as an affirmative defense in Jethro’s tort battery action against her.
It seems like only yesterday it was this morning.
Laying back and relaxing in the sun-soaked park was bliss until the gang of rowdy, loud men came rambling through, turning a young woman’s thoughts to bloody, painful murder.
“Ah, yes, I think I have the knack of it, now,” said the disapproving librarian as she kicked the round, moist object around like the useless ball of nuisance it truly was.
If you weren’t sure, the ducklings sprouting under every second tree are a dead give away.
I am worried today, because the sun is askew and the sky sounds flat, that something, like a pressure leak or a wobbly bearing or a frayed gasket, is terribly wrong with the mechanism of the physical world.
The way she holds her head when she types can tell me, if I pay attention, that she believes art is neither a particular product nor a particular activity but a method.
Today I ate my tamale lunch with chopsticks.
As inspired by: 'mouse's tragically short careers in packaging
Morton was summarily dismissed from his advertising job after the disastrous “White Superiority” campaign he created for the Peach and Nectarine Council.
“So, what you’re saying is, ‘If my client didn’t consummate his marriage, he’s screwed?’”
I am think I am going to vomit!
Spicy tortilla chips were to be her downfall after the lurid and unfortunate tamale incident.
My father used to enjoy introducing me to his acquaintances as the token family communist until Fr. Henry, senile and retired, wanted to know where I kept the communion wafers.
After successfully conducting his affairs for many years by operating under one sacred principle—always mess around with women with the same length and color hair as your wife—Harold was stymied when his wife’s hair began to turn grey and he now had to try to keep up with trying to match both the appropriate shade of hairdye and grey root length.
I have decided to test Lloyd’s theory that I can remember anything as long as it’s set to the right music; to that end, I have decided to try to sing the Restatement (First) of Contracts (75) to the tune of “Birdhouse in Your Soul” by They Might Be Giants.
As inspired by: 'mouse's The Lucky Man
She slept well, if not wisely, and dreamed of cake, yarn and enlightenment (not necessarily in that order).
Though she delighted in his emboldened effort to charm her with pinot, prime rib, and pearls, she ached for the consequent swoon of a warm, breathy, ‘I want to share my afterlife with you’ whispered just below her earlobe.
When, at the top of my lungs, I find myself howling curses into the echoing rage over some stony precipice, I always stop and try to remember the quiet that was there before and the road that brought me here to the edge, lest I follow the same road home.
I will gladly cast my vote to the first candidate who promises change that involves a party member stopping by to poop my dog when he whines at 3 a.m.
In an early morning interview with Vice-presidential candidate Sarah Palin, a Scrine White House corespondent was taken by surprise when Palin freely admitted that she’d made a mistake, and that she’d thought she would be spending the next four years of her life with Die Hard‘s John McClain, and was completely caught off guard the first time the aging Senator McCain walked into the room and shook her hand; “And to answer your next question,” Palin said, “the answer is no, I did not, nor have I ever said, until this very moment, the words Yippee Kayay.”
She hoped all the checks floating relentlessly through the air would land effortlessly on Friday’s payday with a minimum of fluttering and fussing.
The teacher’s assistant bent near Bronwyn’s desk, placed a mysterious binder at her elbow, and murmured, “in honor of your 500th scrine”.
Pausing at the bulletin board, Muriel gazed up at the long line of political badges pinned to the cork, representing failed Democratic campaigns over the past eight years; she decided not to add Obama’s to the line just yet, to ward off any possibility of a jinx.
It took every ounce of self-control that Juan could muster not to drop to the floor and lick the bathroom doorhandle in front of the germophobic ninny who waived a wad of paper towels his direction and said, “You know, you really shouldn’t touch those things.”
The pause button is what separates the ordinary movie-goer from the true home theatre aficionado.
Careful not to make a noise, Fender eased his sunburned backside in the padded conference chair, turned the page of the comic book hidden in a leather portfolio, and wondered, not for the first time, how any of these executives could trust a speaker who used the word “synergy”.
Sometimes during the late showing of Donnie Darko an occasional film critic claims he sees the ethereal image of Jimmy Stewart staring out from the celluloid, but Stanley – the ancient projectionist – believes that it is only the memory of Harvey that, having spooled its way through countless showings during the Great Depression, has left its fading memory on his projector and nothing more.
When Ed Asner was not presiding as president of the SAG or drunkenly patting Mary Tyler Moore on her fanny, he was saving the world from The Satan Bug!
Hey, niet iedereen spreekt Nederlandse domoor.
Her descent into programming was to leave a permanent mark on her soul.
I wonder if there’s any chance Jesus will come back and take away all the Christians before the election.
We speak of dimensions as organizational hierarchies of layers of abstraction because we hope that you will realize, in that rapture of synaptic alignment, the substance of concrete entities as the foci of juxtaposed fact clouds coalescing along topical paths of relativity and perspective.
When he remembered home, which he rarely did, he always pictured aromatic steam rising from the breaking of warm, moist blueberry cake and remembered the way his mother would never bake, beg though he would every night.
The morning air was so chilly I could hear my nipples crinkle.
Everytime you hear a phone ring a customer service rep dies a little inside.
Machines that must be very bored: your toaster, your treadmill, and your dryer.
When giving tours of the property to prospective residents, the chief always made it a point to tell people that even though they would feel at home if they chose to move in, they would, under no circumstances whatsoever, be allowed to drape shirts and trousers over the treadmills.
Sometimes in my nightmares I dream I’ve become a Republican and that Sarah Palin is asking me to embrace her God and pray for the Alaskan oil pipeline; when I wake up I try to reassure myself that it was only a bad dream, but then sometimes I notice that my hair seems extra greasy, and I can’t help but think that the almighty might just be a vengeful oil god and that I best be careful.
The first Pigeon Pope of the Catholic church seldom prayed out loud, on account of how poorly he cooed in Latin.
My tone deaf co worker won’t stop singing and I’ve decided if I had a taser I’d use it.
As inspired by: Keith's The Pigeon Pope
The Pigeon of Hope soared high into the air… and then fluttered to the ground in storm of a thousand feathers as the uncaring jet roared westward.
Denial of denial is the first sign of denial.
I have always loved the name Sarah, in fact every woman I have ever known named Sarah has been special and dear to me, but now Sarah Palin threatens to ruin all those wonderful memories.
If you would indulge me for just a moment before you take me away, good Sir, I feel compelled to defend her honor, in spite of this terrible offense I’ve commited against her, and to inform you that she was never, I hope you’ll understand, a person who would elicit, you should know, anger or violence, like that which bludgeoned her to death, through any word spoken or deed done out of the abundant, as I assure it was, kindness and gentleness of her meek and humble heart.
Nervous when told that she was sloughing skin cells, she devised a protective sheath to prevent it happening again.
As inspired by: scott's in justification of my quantum model
Reality is a clown juggling each existential plane/dimension and standing behind this clown is God holding a gun (representing quantum theory) and saying in a very calm reassuring voice, “Thaaaaat’s right, niiiiiiice and easy.”
As inspired by: You can call me, 'Sir''s in truth
The existential planes and dimensions of the clown’s juggled reality, the calm, reassuring, although somewhat ominous words of God, and even the bullets of God’s gun, had the clown ventured to test or measure their existence, all moved effortlessly through the clapping sound of Perception.
And as you strangle the life out of me, I’ll simply grin, and ask for more….
If the internet taught her anything, it was the fact that reality is overrated and underutilized.
It would be so easy right now to just hop on the bus and ride around for an hour, watching the landscape roll by while thinking of nothing in particular, but I probably should not succumb.
Maybe a wavy day for fish is like a windy day for birds.
I know one and only one person who could riff off the Sarah/Bristol baby controversy and describe the soon-to-be-a-trend birthing of Down Syndrome babies as “all the fun of thalidomide without the flippers.”
The R&D Team at Punchy One-L Test Kitchens are proud to announce that after extensive double-blind trials, we can state with 97% certainty that Trader Joe’s Seedy Little Currant Cookies taste even better if you sing the words “Seedy Little Currant Cookies” to the tune of “Jewish Princess” by Frank Zappa.
I am reminded, watching the rain wash over the world, inundation from the close, grey sky, that we are a world of water, that we are people of water, that life begins in the soup, that death is parched and dry, that tears and blood and sweat mean that I am alive in the autumn rain.
Political correctness has gone too far when people start referring to pimps as “ho-wardens”.
I’ve never seen my cat and my rabbit in the same room together and now that I think about it, my cat does look a lot like my rabbit with its ears pinned back and wearing glasses; of course, there may be another explanation but damned if I can figure it.
Getting dressed it occurred to me that my pants felt far too heavy for me to face the day yet I could foresee trouble ahead if I simply discarded them and continued as per normal so, having reduced the day to two choices, I stayed in bed.
He looked something like David Bowie if you were face on in a sandstorm with the sun in your eyes.
Bi-polar chicken’s rarely heed the advice of others.
As far as I’m concerned, it’s pretty much all Bob Dylan’s fault.
Principal Au Claire thought his field trip genius and a great way to explain to his students the McCain - Palin plaftorm, but the conservative parents of Colorado Springs felt otherwise threatening to report him to James Dobson if he didn’t apologize ASAP!
A priest and two altar boys is sometimes refered to as a devils three-way, especially if the despicable bastard has the gall to say mass shortly after.
Secure several juicy T-1’s from Qwest – book them as a liability – then pare them off to several clients, marking them up 15% and book them as an asset; mix, shake, stir and pray to God that the IRS, FTC and any other 3 letter agency doesn’t find out what you are doing.
I am quite sure that I, unlike a certain someone, do not know did not know until hearing one just now, any tasteless jokes that combine knitting and thalidomide.
Old news breaking me broken scattered on the rocks shattered despair floating flotsam of hope lost at sea foam wailing bird echoes whale song across horizon sunset blaze saying goodbye tomorrow days forever daze into yesterday childish rage.
Jan van de Boer sipped coffee in a mixed mood of sardonic whimsy and angst, thinking that life might be easier if he were a Vargas girl.
After staying up and waking up several times to try to sooth his daughter’s hacking cough, Juan found no peace, dreaming of computer viruses.
Like old friends, The Dresden Dolls reminded our hero that there was more to life than the daily grind.
President Gore sipped his coffee and gazed contentedly out the White House window at the thousands of electric cars passing soundlessly down the boulevard.
As Juan pondered the sound of one hand clapping, the giant Foot of Doom blotted him out of existence.
Seven years and 3,100 miles later, I can still smell ink and cordite and smoke and fear.
Her appointments went much more smoothly once she settled into the topic of her tuba lessons, a prism through which one could glimpse the real Loretta.