Archive for June, 2010


the adventures of young george washington

Come sit on your dad’s knee, young George. In light of recent developments, I believe it’s time you and I had a father-and-son chat. As you know, we Washingtons are the proudest, most overachieving family in Virginia. And as such, I expect big things from you in this world. You might even go so far as to say that I possess the uncanny ability to foresee the future, and your prominent place in it. This may seem hard to believe, but in your lifetime, we’re gonna declare independence from the British and form our own country. And if you apply yourself, you have the leadership skills to play an important role in that whole process. It’d really make your old man proud to see you grow into that role, first as the general of the rebellious army during the bloody but necessary revolution, and later as the inaugural leader of that fledgling nation. No, not as a conquering warrior-king, but under far more noble circumstances: to be elected to your office by public mandate. But that’s all in the future, and only after you learn some valuable lessons from that incident with the cherry tree earlier this afternoon. You see, a leader is really doing his people a disservice if he cannot tell the occasional lie.

Case in point, when I happened upon you in the orchard, two things caught my attention right off the bat. One was the chopped-down cherry tree, and the other was you, standing there like a goon, holding a hatchet behind your back. It doesn’t exactly take Matlock (another one of my visions for the future, which I will discuss with you at length at an appropriate time) to figure out what happened. Now, if you’re gonna survive in the political world, the thing to do in that situation is to go on the defensive. You can successfully divert attention from the obvious fact of your guilt in the matter, if you instead place the focus of the argument on a perceived threat to your inalienable right to carry a hatchet with you at all times. Hell, double down and make the argument that this would be a crime-free society if more citizens were encouraged to carry around concealed hatchets for their protection. I mean, no crazed gunman is gonna try a shoot up a bank or a coffee shop full of hatchet-wielding patrons, am I right? It’s a simple question of public safety and the rights of individuals to protect themselves. Trust me, this hatchet thing, or something very similar, is gonna be a polarizing issue in the future.

Look, I’m not saying a leader should lie all the time, but removing it as an option altogether really takes one of your most vital authoritative tools off the table before the game even starts. All leaders lie sometimes, for a variety of reasons, but mostly to protect their followers from the many realities that they could never be expected to wrap their heads around. And remember, the trivial things you’ll have to lie about periodically are child’s play compared to the secrets future leaders of this hypothetical nation will have to conceal. George, can you imagine trying to sleep at night after your first day in office, having been briefed by the world’s foremost scientific authorities that space aliens have been living among us for hundreds of years? I certainly don’t envy the future leaders whose primary tasks include obscuring the fact that the confluence of news and entertainment in the corporate media is just an elaborately designed smokescreen designed to prevent the population from discovering that the only thing preventing the fragile construct of society from dissolving into chaos is people’s continued willingness to mindlessly purchase and consume everything within arm’s reach. Can you imagine the pressure of having to stand at a podium, paying daily lip service to the notions of individual freedom and liberty, then having to instead serve the massive economic interests which prevent that same personal autonomy from being attainable for any but the wealthiest citizens?

Even this little anecdote with you and the cherry tree could have some real legs on the campaign trail if we alter a few of the details. For example, the narrative would have a lot more resonance with voters if it took place when you were, say, seven instead of twenty-three. In fact, now that I think about it, aren’t you a little old to be sitting on my lap? A young man your age should really be showing a lot more interest in our vast, expansive marijuana fields or focusing on his romantic prospects with the most attractive of our female slaves. Why can’t you be more like that Jefferson kid down the block?


would you mind not hitting my body with your car?

Sit down for a minute, Mom, Dad; I wanna talk to you about something. I know that I haven’t necessarily handled the recent announcement of your divorce very well, but after a lot of soul-searching, I’m finally ready to start picking up the pieces and moving forward. Like you guys said, we’re still family, and I’ve been giving quite a bit of thought to how best to partner with you in getting on to the next chapter of our lives. It is in that spirit that I want to give you guys some tips as you prepare to re-enter the dating world. Before we begin, I ask that you each please look under your seats to see that I have placed a gift for you under there. Oh, dear; judging by the bewildered look on your faces, I guess neither of you has ever seen an extra-large box of condoms before. Well, get used to them, because they’re a must in today’s modern dating cesspool, which is fraught with constant danger and traps.

The game has changed a bit since you guys were last single, so let me hip you to a few things. Dad, we’ll start with you. Forget everything you knew about sex, because you’re gonna have to really rebrand yourself to get a piece in the hypercompetitive market you’re stepping into. Sure, those Johnston & Murphy loafers might fly at work, but you need a gimmick. My advice is to post a bunch of craigslist personal ads looking for people to indulge very specific fetishes. There is literally nothing you could come up with that doesn’t have a vibrant and existing community dedicated to sexualizing it: rubber Jimmy Carter masks? Old-time sewing machines? The sky’s the limit! Just remember to keep a defibrillator in the duffle bag where you store whatever costume you choose, so you don’t die on top of some chick.

Mom, things are gonna be a bit more challenging for you, as your potential candidates for intercourse are held to a different standard of beauty. A short, obese, bald man can be considered “distinguished-looking” if he’s got money, so expect to find yourself face-to-face with the occasional wizened scrotum, that, with its long wisps of white hair hanging from it, resembles the rugged, weatherbeaten face of a bearded Civil War general. But since I’m going to be living with you save for every other weekend and selected holidays, you’re just gonna have to tough it out and bang the richest dudes at your disposal, because the decades of therapy I’ll need as the product of a broken home ain’t gonna be cheap.


event cancelled due to lack of redeemable human value

LOS ANGELES- Authorities confirmed Tuesday that the nude body found behind a dumpster on the Sunset Strip is that of onetime movie executive Danny Grellkin. Grellkin, 46, was known for his innovations to the movie industry, which gained widespread use only after his forced exile from Violentsexx Pictures led him to seek a life of solitude.

In the midst of the  Great Special Effects Strike of 2015-16, Grellkin, facing mounting pressure from moviegoers fatigued by two summers of nothing but special effects-free romantic comedies, persuaded a homeless man to allow himself to be murdered on camera for the action movie Gravityshifter 4: Trial by Fire in exchange for $250,000, paid one year in advance of the filming.

The homeless man, crack addict Brandon Terlichmann, never appeared in the film, as he died from a massive overdose within two days of receiving his check, an unfortunate result of suddenly having a quarter-million dollars to spend on his drug of choice. The ensuing scandal rocked Hollywood, leading to Grellkin’s ouster from Violentsexx Pictures and yet another summer full of bland family fare, including the rush-schedule simultaneous release of the adaptations of all nine Little House on the Prairie books, set in space and starring Vin Diesel as RoboPa Ingalls. Overnight, Grellkin went from Hollywood wunderkind to living on the streets, not even returning to the public eye once the country rediscovered its appetite for film violence and the practice of paying homeless people to get brutally murdered in increasingly imaginative ways for movie scenes became commonplace.

Police are seeking out Grellkin’s replacement at Violentsexx Pictures, Randy Herstory, for questioning, to determine whether Grellkin’s death had been related to having been offered a “small but important role” in the eagerly awaited sequel to the summer blockbuster Futurewasters, tentatively titled Futurewasters: II Hell and Back.


hash delirium

Under FCC rules, KHNJ-FM is allowed to play artistic material that some might find indecent from the hours of 10pm till 6am. But as you listeners know, my show doesn’t fall into that category. In fact, it could be broadcast directly into an elementary school over the intercom right after the Pledge of Allegiance and the announcement that salisbury steak is on the lunch menu. Because there’s absolutely nothing indecent about the beautiful romantic love that people share between each other, and that’s what we celebrate when I’m spinning wax. No, this show broadcasts at this hour for two reasons: 1) the wee hours of the morning are when lovers are often needing a recharge between hot lovemaking sessions, and the amorous melodies I’ll be spinning tonight can replace the valuable hydration and nutrients lost during the strenuous exercise of showing someone just how much you care, and 2) if this show were any earlier, it would interfere with my day job as a stuffy, buttoned-down file clerk. We’ve got ballads from Spaceman and the Astroglides in this next set, so fellas, this is your cue to light some candles and draw a nice warm rejuvenating bubble bath for your lady. Feel free to place a couple of cucumber slices over her eyes, just don’t use up the whole cucumber, because it may come in handy later.

If I may ask you listeners’ indulgence of my chatter between songs here, I want to take a moment to appreciate the many lovely women, beautiful in all their many colors, shapes, and sizes, who are out there loving their men. If you want to make things extra-special this evening, whisper in his ear that you want to make a human peanut butter and banana sandwich. He’ll know what you’re talking about, and you can both thank me later. When you hear the dulcet strains of an Ecstasy Keach rock block at the top of the hour, try not to do too much straining yourself.

And before I play the latest hit from the Nudaisms, I want to address the concerns of one listener who called in during the last break: “Edward,” it sounds like that hooker you’re with has got a heart of gold. If I may make a prediction, you two are gonna be together forever. Oh, and one more prediction, that attorney of yours is gonna lose all his hair, put on a bunch of weight, and be living with his parents in a few years.

Now, for you few unfortunate souls enjoying this show without someone nearby to put a spoonful of hummus into that little nook made by your collarbone and dip some nice pita chips into it, here’s a tip for finding that special someone. The internet is a great resource, and dating sites are no longer the motley collection of weirdos that they used to be back in my glory days. Just remember to always use a clear, recent pic of your genitalia.



Welcome, everyone! Let me begin by thanking everyone for their considerable efforts, which made for a really smooth transition during our first weekend in our cult’s new compound. The Prophet especially wanted me to compliment you all for your great attitudes during the unfortunate incident involving malfunctioning taco salad-making equipment in our cafeteria, your deft handling of which served to demonstrate precisely why He handpicked you fine folks to be His earthly representatives during the coming tribulations ahead.

And on that note, the Prophet wanted me to address a few relevant queries in the Question Box, most of which, unsurprisingly, have to do with rooming accommodations for those of you who have hit it off and want to bunk together. Those will be adequately addressed by the Prophet in a future recorded message, so He asked that I focus on some of your other concerns today. Like this one, from J.S.: “None of us has ever seen the Prophet, so how are those of us who are so fortunate as to be selected to be in His army of body doubles supposed to know how to dress?” Well, J.S., the Prophet is very mysterious, but I can say there will be a regulation body double uniform, and without spoiling any surprises or fueling too much wild speculation, I have been authorized to disclose that some of you are gonna look absolutely stunning in your sequined eyepatches, tuxedo t-shirts, monogrammed bathrobes, and Seattle Mariners throwback uniform pants. Moving on, there is this from L.N.: “If the final battle between the Chosens and the Forgottens transpires as predicted and we end up surrounded by our enemies, can we just recreate the end of Scarface?” I like the way you think, L.N., but we all know that cocaine primary attracts white girls, and judging from the porn collections I saw around here during move-in this weekend, we’re pretty much all into Asians. Which leads me to the 30 remaining questions in the box: yes, the Prophet is gonna see about getting some girls in here, hopefully in the next week or two. But remember: it all depends on everyone’s ability to keep stitching together quality jean jackets in the South Wing of our new facility. We’ve got to have 35,000 units ready to move for the fall shipment. I know 80 hours a week is a lot to ask, but your reward in the Afterlife will be worth it!

June 2010
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