Archive for December, 2010


unlimited texts between you and your pets

Awwwww shit. Looks like we got a party up in here! We got three bartenders to keep ya cups full, and I’m finna be spinning records till shit get so crazy that we turn the dance floor into a makeshift Slip N’ Slide. Ayybody car keys have been securely hung on the pegboard in the coat room, so ain’t no excuses gonna be accepted for people who ain’t sufficiently fucked up tonight. This how we partii down here, in an abandoned grain silo miles from anywhere with the only means of egress locked from the outside and a creepy old professor with a tweed jacket lurking in the back, hopin’ this thang hurry up and devolve into an orgy.

We got elements from nearly every continent up in this bitch: Antarctic ice block shots featuring DJ Jazzy Jeff’s signature Estonian vodka, exclusive cardboard flown in from Taiwan for all my breakdancers out there, and a hash brick so big we had to smuggle it from Mexico inside a hollowed-out copy of Infinite Jest instead of the little-ass hotel Bible we usually use, all guarded by unsmiling Congolese child soldiers with M-16s and sunglasses. Also, a kangaroo is here.

On toppa allat, my man in charge of security been covertly circulating a fake password and incorrect driving directions to all the bustas, narcs, and poindexters, so you can rest easy knowing that this place is gonna be filled with only the most beautiful party people once we start lining all the ventilation ducts with model airplane glue.

Now a word to my fellas: I need ya’ll to take special care ya’ll ladies tonight. Tell em over and over how nice they look, cause we don’t want no one feelin’ all self-conscious at midnight, when our very special guest Aleister Crowley arrive wearing a black robe to recite the incantation that gonna turn all ya’ll into my Little Orphan Annie-eyed puppets for the afterlife.


the love that dare not make any sense

To my dearest delicate flower, Slayerfan666,

Daily I am astonished anew by my capacity not only to love you, but to miss you. Irrespective of the physical distance that separates us, I can feel myself growing increasingly attached to you in a much more meaningful way than I ever thought imaginable. I am sorry that the limited availability of wi-fi in my area has prevented me from responding sooner; lest you think that my admitted insufficiency of communication is in any way a sign of flagging in my devotion, I can assure you that the hours I have spent thinking about you far outnumber the words in each IM or email.

I thank you for inspiring me to live up to a higher standard in every area of my life, so that I will be the kind of partner that is worthy of your love. Among other improvements, I have recently begun an exercise program and immersed myself in motivational books written by incarcerated corporate executives. In preparation for the day when we finally meet IRL, I have even begun cataloging television show theme songs to mentally recite the words to, in hopes of lasting longer in bed.

Though I am frustrated by the many limitations inherent to our long-distance relationship, I look forward to our first encounter, so that I may wrap my tentacles around you, then pepper you with eager kisses from my razor-sharp beak as I drag you to the bottom of the sea, where we will live together forever. Oh, did I mention that I am a giant squid?


please don’t write on the bathroom wall unless you have information on what number a person can call for a good time

“Look, knock it off for a second,” she had said, bringing an abrupt halt to the proceedings to impart a valuable bit of instruction. “When you kiss like you’re about to fuck, the kiss becomes secondary, a mere warm-up act. Concentrate on the kiss, and the fuck will take care of itself.” The advice, which he had put into practice long before coming to truly understand it in the intervening decades between that night and now, had proven instrumental in his life’s work, the achievements of which were to be finally recognized by an authorized governing body today.

His thoughts turned to her increasingly often of late, this worldly woman who had declined to give him her last name years ago. The sweetness of those memories was undercut by the knowledge that she was very likely dead now, or perhaps worse still to imagine, unrecognizable: a frail, decrepit husk of her former beauty and wisdom. In her arms he had found occasional respite from the horrors he saw daily while bravely defending Idaho from foreign invaders as a member of the National Guard. Among other things, she had taught him of the cumulative value in sweating the small stuff.

A young man’s face appeared in a crack in his door, reminding him that the ceremony was to begin in five minutes, and he acknowledged this with a nod and a warm smile. His heart swelled with pride as he made one last adjustment in the mirror to his tie, and nearly allowed himself to speak the words to the reflection: “Perhaps you’ve heard of me. I’m Reginald Syrjäniemi, MILF Huntsman, Master Class.”


papa does take some mess, but not more than can be reasonably expected

Hi, I’m LaBarbara Van Derven-Watanabe, and you may remember me as the 2023 Academy Award winner for Best Jugs in a Dramatic Role. Although my image is currently represented in your domicile as a flickering blue hologram with a badly askew aspect ratio, I can assure you that I’m just as beautiful as you remember me. I’m here to talk to you about something very important: our national security and your role therein.

As has been widely reported, the roving band of robotic wolves that have been terrorizing the west coast remains at large. No one knows who built them or why, but a national sundown curfew shall remain in effect until they are captured or destroyed. These metallic hellhounds have remorselessly killed three people over the last nine years, so it is critical to everyone’s safety that we achieve full participation in the newly established security guidelines without complaint, as we are closer than ever to eradicating the robotic wolf menace from civilization for good. While it may be true that our continued reliance on deregulated household cleaning solvents alone has caused approximately 60,000 more deaths than robotic wolves over the same time span, and that the killings perpetrated by these ruthless murderers all occurred within a two-mile radius, and that it has never been conclusively determined that robotic wolves are even to blame for these deaths as opposed to being a thing the overworked local authorities just made up to explain away some unsolved unfortunate incidents, these ferocious beasts represent an existential threat to society.

Our experts who are paid good money to sit in think tanks and imagine worst-case scenarios theorize that by now the wolves’ creator(s?) may well have mastered the technology to construct humanoid robots with the ability to infiltrate our nation’s most cherished institutions and take them down from the inside. While this is merely speculation, until these rumors are thoroughly debunked we have no choice but to treat them as indisputable fact. So exercise extreme caution in dealing with your friends, family, and neighbors, as any of them could be insidiously gathering information on you for the coming attack. Remember to monitor and report any suspicious behavior, such as verbal criticism of the new security measures to be unveiled next week.

We will do everything possible to uphold our oath to keep the public safe until the people responsible for these crimes are brought to justice. This includes enlisting the services of college alumni associations to track down all persons of interest, no matter how frequently they may change their addresses. In the meantime, we advice you not to trust the biased media for information on further developments in this story. Instead, get your facts straight from the source: approved daily reports from the newly formed Security Commission. It is vital that we begin building our security infrastructure for next year, when we will mobilize to liberate Canada and her vast reserves of fresh potable water from their tyrannical overlords, who have been blocking our access to the vital North Pole trade route that was opened up by the melting ice caps.

We must be forever vigilant to protect our precious freedom to speak, assemble, and worship as we please while inside the resonance imagers that can detect abnormal amounts of electrical impulse activity in the parts of the brain that regulate dissent from sociological norms. Remember, these are complex and challenging times, and the best way to simplify them is to follow our instructions to the letter.


we are not having fun yet

The inventor of the Bowflex Home Fitness System rose in the morning and padded gently over a trail of flower petals covering the hallway from his bedchamber to his mansion’s palatial dining room, where servants immediately appeared to pull his chair out and give him his breakfast. Right away, an ostrich steak was placed in front of him and he noted the precision with which the grill marks had been arranged to make a perfect grid of squares; that morning four previous ostrich steaks had been grilled to perfection, then thrown unceremoniously into the garbage as he slept in, all in the service of ensuring that he had a fresh, hot one without having to wait.

At the conclusion of his meal, he took leave of the dining room to stroll the grounds, uncharacteristically unaccompanied save for the odd peacock that may cross his path as he meditated. The synthetic glands he had had surgically implanted a few years ago to improve his personal musk kissed the air with subtle, tasteful hints of vanilla emanating from his pores. A life lived in sweet repose since he had invented the Bowflex Home Fitness System, rich with the spoils delivered by his youthful triumph, had purged even the memory of want or hunger from his mind until this day, when he sensed something amiss within him.

His mind drifted to his wife, specifically to the memory of a vacation they took together when he was working at a car dealership to put her through grad school. For weeks he had saved a few dollars at a time in an envelope in his sock drawer for them to get away and spend a weekend camping. They had held each other in the pale gold haze of morning in a dew-dampened pup tent among the pop-up campers and RVs. Having spent decades of leisure hence in the French Riviera, skiing in the Alps, or sunning themselves on the island of Crete, it seemed ridiculous that they had once been so happy with so little, but the event derived its value from the scarcity of resources fastidiously gathered together to make it happen.

The warm rush of the jets in his cognac-filled jacuzzi as a robotic bather ran a sponge over his back offered scant comfort as he contemplated, as if for the first time, what it truly meant to be a man. After an immeasurable amount of time he emerged, having silently resolved to complete his long-abandoned follow-up project to the Bowflex Home Fitness System, a complex network of high-speed turbines sealed in a glass enclosure, that when spinning form a zero-gravity environment for the user to sleep in to slow the sag of the earlobes brought on by aging.

December 2010
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