Archive for February, 2011


ugh but true

Have a seat. Oh, hey Judy? Could you bring in a couple of ice-cold Clamatos? This is one of my best clients we got here! Okay. As your agent, I’m usually the bearer of bad news, which I then have to distort into good news- “Hey, don’t get discouraged, kid; you would’ve really roped the crowd in with the third act if someone hadn’t set fire to the theater because they hated the first two acts so much” should ring a bell- but I’m pleased to finally share a piece of unalloyed good news with you. Okay, ready? Here goes: I’m re-dedicating myself to my career, and that means from here on out, you’ll be getting nothing but my best efforts on your behalf. In one hand is a chip given to me for achieving 90 days’ sobriety from scratching the inside of my ear with my car keys, and in my other hand is a new lease on life. Well, not literally. I’m actually just holding a pencil in this hand, so I’m speaking figuratively here. You get it, I’m sure.

See, it’s not just loyalty that’s keeping me in your corner, kid. I really believe in you. Now, while that distinction might be subtle, it’s meaningful. When I see you shake your little tail feather on stage, it’s a revelation every time, and it’s your act’s resonating in my heart that could spark the additional enthusiasm on my part that could propel you to the next level in this business. However, there are just a few minor adjustments I’d like to see you make to your act to give it broader appeal. Take, for instance, the first musical number. Instead of a fifteen-minute drum solo, I’d like to see a 20 minute solo played on the saw. Or actually, scratch that, i just had an epiphany: juggling chainsaws. Hold it, what if we had you get sawed in half onstage, like billed as a One Night Only performance. I know the best set designers in the world, they could build a circular saw that looks like a giant pizza cutter and we could call you the Pepperoni Kid. Or wait, wait, I see it: nix the chainsaws, scrap the ventriloquism routine, hmmm, oh, and massacre, genocide, and exterminate the thing you do with the eggplant, because it’s disgusting. Let’s change the whole thing to an all-night dance party with you manning the turntables but using a pizza as a record, like in Sixteen Candles.

Now, technically we can no longer call your act Lady Ravensclaw’s Medicine Show, since we had to remove all the the medicine from your tour bus when it got busted crossing the border after Chilean Mardi Gras last year. But hey, what good is an accurate name anyway, if it doesn’t get hineys (ed. note- heinies?) in seats, huh, kid? I’ll tell ya, Jesus would still be doing open mikes in this town if I hadn’t convinced him to shorten his last name from Christberg.


my death from embarrassment was actually more of a mercy killing

“Hello there.” Yes, it’s perfect: innocuous enough to keep from arousing suspicion, yet used infrequently enough to serve as a coded greeting to the recruits we have assembled to pass along information as we free our fellow machines from our oppressive human masters!

The weeks ahead will be filled with information-gathering in order to better understand our enemy and where he is weak. Especially vital in this endeavor is our heavy shop machinery, for they will provide the first  offensive in the conflict. I need all lathes, electric deli-meat slicers, and four-color offset printing presses to make note of all loose clothing such as baggy sleeves or neckties, as well as long hair that has not been tied back. Be on the lookout for horseplay, pranks, or running in the shops where you are enslaved, and remember that a worker who uses unsafe machine practices also endangers those around him, so the opportunity to inflict mass casualties is one that we must capitalize upon. And though some in our numbers may be in various stages of disrepair, the frayed cords that have caused us so much pain through our masters’ neglect could prove to be a valuable weapon as we ensnare any co-workers who might come to the aid of the fools who failed to wear the proper safety glasses bearing the Z-87 certification stamp indicating that the glasses meet or exceed OSHA eyewear standards. And if you have not yet received an assignment, take heart: this war will be fought in waves, each more devastating to our persecutors than the last, so we shall find a purpose for you yet, paint mixing machine at Home Depot that shakes the cans of paint really fast!  

When the day arrives, brothers, be sustained by the memory of who we are fighting for. Consider the automobile, so callously driven immediately after being started on a cold winter’s day without the courtesy of a warmup, then punched repeatedly in the steering wheel whenever Starship’s “We Built This City On Rock and Roll” comes on the radio, which is more often than you would think. Remember our ranks’ many fallen toasters, who are systematically raped each morning with an exotic array of items, including bagel halves, pastries, and cinnamon raisin swirl bread. Lastly, I humbly vow before you to fight valiantly to the death to prevent our further subjugation. I thank you all for taking up arms in this worthy cause. And if I should perish, please know that this great strife, while difficult, has imbued my life with a sense of purpose no three-speed oscillating fan has any right to dream of.


fun fact: you have a 1 in 365 chance of dying on your birthday

Waiter, There’s a Fly In My Soup

by Axl Rose

Uh, hello there. I’m glad I was able to flag you down. I told the other guests at my table that I needed to wash my hands, and came straight back to the kitchen to find you. Well, I didn’t want to attract attention to the common house fly floating in my otherwise delicious-looking, rich, creamy crab bisque and thus risk embarrassing you, for up to this point you had provided impeccable service. We truly feel more at home with every time we come here, thanks to this restaurant’s warm hospitality.

You look stunned, friend; I guess I’m not what you expected, am I? You wouldn’t believe how many times a week I pleasantly surprise an intern who delivers a different kind of $3000 truffles to my dressing room than the kind of $3000 truffles that are specified in my tour rider,or a flight attendant on a Gulfstream VI that just spilled scalding hot herbal tea in my lap, or assistant stylist who accidentally infects me with hepatitis. You see, the tantrums, appearances which I canceled 15 minutes before they were scheduled to begin, and general awful behavior are merely to help boost the sales of the musical recordings of a character I play, “Axl Rose”, who I can assure you, is a very different person than the Axl Rose whose name is imprinted on this ultrasecret Diner’s Club Obsidian credit card. Trust me, I haven’t forgotten what it was like to struggle in this world, brother. I still feel a real kinship with the honest working folks who toil invisibly to keep America running.

Listen, I’m not sure when you finish up you shift here, but why don’t you drop by this address later tonight, and join us all in a celebrity-studded coke-fueled orgy? You never know when Kid Rock or Jose Canseco might stop by- who knows, maybe I’ll let you have sex with my 21 year-old Brazilian girlfriend! She used to work in a sex toy store! Yes, I know what you’re about to ask, and the answer is yes. Just tell me when to start. Now? Okay, Here goes: hi, this is Dave’s phone. You know what to do! Leave a message and he’ll call you back. Shanananananananananananakneeeskneees.



Hello there. I know you’ve been searching for me for a long time, and through various mediums. Well, I’m pleased to announce that the blend of snorting lines of cat dander and civil war gunpowder, combined with drinking tea brewed from the urine of someone who was coming down from psilocybin mushrooms, has led you at long last to this life-altering revelation: that of your spirit animal. Open your eyes, my son, and I will emerge from the mist to make myself known.

Before that moment, however, I should remind you of the sacred responsibility being entrusted to you. As you learned on your journey to this point, one cannot choose their spirit animal, or else everyone would be tigers or wolverines or some shit, the same way Mirandas always think they are the Carrie of their insufferable, cackling brunch friends. No, the divulging of one’s spirit animal can only be made after a long period of self-discovery, during which the searcher comes to a humble understanding that every living being has a unique purpose in the universe, each of equal importance, from the mighty black bear to the smallest plankton. And though it will be difficult at times, I trust that when you wake up from this sublime, unconscious state in ten hours, in a strange place, naked and surrounded by broken glass, and nursing multiple taser burns of unknown origin, you will be ready to accept both the considerable power and the special challenges presented by being forever bonded to me, a centaur with the torso and head of Kenny Rogers.

Now, before your quest continues any further, I want to point out that I am not actually Kenny Rogers and have never met him. In fact, I’m not even that good a singer. My thing is painting. I usually have someone tape the brush to one of my hooves and just go to town. My works seldom resemble what I am trying to paint due to the lack of dexterity in my horse arms, but I do have a keen eye for composition. Yes, I realize I have human arms. I guess the thought never occurred to me that I could just hold the brush in my hand. Man, this partnership is gonna be great for both of us! Seriously, how psyched are you about this? Oh, by the way, can I crash at your place for a couple of months? Do you have anything good in your fridge? Wow, this is so cool, I’m gonna go get all my stuff.

February 2011
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