Thinking Really Hard

Oscar Analysis

2010-02-02T17:36:00.000-08:00

Host: "Welcome back to 'Hollywood Tonight.' The Oscar nominations were announced today and we're here to speak to our chief film critic, Rick Reynolds, and get his reaction. So, Rick, what do you think of this year's field?

Rick: "Well, I think it's pretty strong. This is definitely the year of the indies, and I think you have to give the edge to 'The English Patient' to take home the big prize. Though both 'Shine' and 'Jerry Maguire' are powerful pictures with their share of vocal supporters."

Host: "Um, Rick. None of those movies were nominated this year."

Rick: "They weren't? Wait, what year is it?"

Host: "It's 2010."

Rick: "Dear God."

Host: "Is everything all right?"

Rick: "I can't believe it... that crazy professor was right... The machine did work!"

Host: "Um, what machine, Rick?"

Rick: "I have to go. There's still time to save the past! Or is it the future? I have so much work to do and not much time to do it... Not enough time. Oh, the irony..."

[Rick Reynolds runs off stage. Our host turns to face the camera.]

Host: "Okay, and we'll be right back with a sneak preview of the new 'A-Team' trailer!"

Nice Coat

2009-11-29T11:39:00.000-08:00

A: Hey, nice coat.
B: Thanks. It belonged to my father.
A: Great, well...
B: He took it from a man he killed.
A: Um...
B: They were fighting over a woman.
A: Are you serious?
B: I would never joke about my father.
A: Um, right, of course not.
B: Now, I wear this coat in honor of his memory.
A: Wow.
B: You know the woman I said they fought over?
A: Yeah.
B: That was my mother.
A: Really?
B: And the man I said my father killed?
A: Yeah.
B: My mother told me later that he was my true father.
A: Goodness.
B: Yes. Goodness, indeed.
(long awkward pause)
A: So how long have you worked at this cupcake truck?

Absent-Minded Superman

2009-07-13T12:21:00.000-07:00

"Hmm, there was something I was going to do today, but what was it?" Superman thought as he soared high above the city of Metropolis. "Oh well, it must not have been that important."

Meanwhile, far below, a school bus, which had been precariously balancing on the side of a steep cliff since late the night before, finally fell off the ridge and exploded in a ball of flames.

"Wait, now I remember," Superman thought. "I forgot to turn off the coffee maker... Now my whole place is gonna smell like burnt coffee. Oh rats!"

Helicopter In Peril

2009-07-09T14:33:00.000-07:00

Ray and Seth are in a helicopter.

Ray: Uh oh, one of the motor-things just went out.
Seth: Oh no! What are we going to do?
Ray: We'll crash if we don't lighten the load on this thing.
Seth: But there's nothing to toss out.
Ray: You're going to have to jump.
Seth: Me? Why me?!
Ray: There's no time! Jump!
Seth: Oh, fine.

(Seth jumps. As he falls, we hear his thoughts.)

Seth's Thoughts: Hey, why don't the motor-things on the helicopter look broken? And why is Ray laughing? And what's that he's got his arm around?... (GASP) It's my wife! Oh my God, it was all a trick! Ray, you bastard! YOU BASTARD!

The End

Pickpockets

2009-06-27T14:50:00.000-07:00

Two pickpockets, each working a large crowd at an outdoor public gathering, run into each other.

P1: What a surprise to see you here!
P2: It sure is. How's everything going?
P1: Oh, just great. Hey, where'd my watch go?
P2: I don't know, but have you seen my new watch?
P1: That looks just like my old one!
P2: Weird... Boy, when did it get so bright out here?
P1: You should have worn sunglasses, like I did.
P2: I did wear sunglasses! And now you're wearing mine!
P1: Funny how life works, isn't it? (coughs) Ahem. Uh... I'm feeling a little faint all of a sudden.
P2: I hope you're okay. Say, do you know what I could do with an extra heart? (holds up a still-beating human heart)
P1: Ugh... (dies)
P2: Seriously, what can I do with this heart?

Aborted Posts

2009-06-02T13:05:00.001-07:00

Over the past several months, I've been trying to come up with ideas for new posts. Here, just as a sampling, are some of my discarded post title ideas:

1. "Don't Tell The Wizard, but I Dropped his Sacred Amulet in the Spaghetti Sauce"

2. "I'm Pretty Sure When I Walked Into This Factory, I Had Two Arms"

3. Point: Oxygen for Everyone! / Counterpoint: Oxygen For No One!

4. Point: You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin' / Counterpoint: Who The Fuck Are You and How'd You Get In My House?

5. "I'm Concerned About The Future of The Slam Poetry Movement"

6. "Surgeon General Sanjay Gupta?! We'll See About That..." by Dr. Dean Windstrong,
Host of the "Dr. Dean In The Morning" show on WXLK Daytona Beach 1020 AM

7. "Live-Blogging My Roommate Watching The Oscars"

And, finally, this last post idea (along with the titles of its sub-sections) which I'd hoped to put up around tax time...

8. Discussion: Taxes

- I've Got 2 Words For You: Earned Income Tax Credit
by The Idiot Tax Preparer

- That's 4 Words, You Idiot
by The Angry Customer

- If You're So Smart, How Come You Don't Do These Taxes Yourself?
by The Idiot Tax Preparer

-Fine! Where's your calculator? And Please Bring Me Some Coffee!
by The Angry Customer

Point/Counterpoint: President Barack Obama

2009-01-26T11:44:00.000-08:00

Point: I Am So Proud of Our Country
by Sarah Johnson, Young American

I mean, this is just so great! Barack Obama is now our president and he's brought hope back to our great country. I know we're going through some tough times now, but I'm sure that with President Obama's leadership, we'll make it through stronger and better than ever. Things can only get better from here. God bless America!

Counterpoint: I Am the Twelfth Cylon
by President Barack Obama

I know all of you had your hopes up for my administration, but I'm afraid I have some bad news. I am the twelfth Cylon, and I'm going to make sure that humanity is destroyed once and for all. What? You thought it was Colonel Tigh's wife? You humans are so easily fooled. Now, I will lead my Cylon brothers and sisters to the 13th colony, Earth!... Oh wait, we're already here. Um, never mind.

Counter-Counterpoint: Fire Up the FTL Drives!
by Admiral Adama

I knew I should have listened to former President Roslin and rigged that election. Launch the vipers, Mr. Gaeta. I bet that weasel Baltar is behind this. What a frak-tastrophe!

You Can't Close Gitmo, Mr. President... Because That's Where We Keep Doomsday

2009-01-22T11:31:00.001-08:00

Good morning, President Obama.

I see you've issued an executive order to close down the Guantanamo Bay detention camp. Now, sir, I admire your position on this matter, but Gitmo isn't just enemy combatants and questionable interrogation techniques. It's our nation's most secure holding facility, and it's where we keep the greatest threat this or any other planet has ever known... the terrible monster that is DOOMSDAY!

Yes, sir, that Doomsday. The same creature that killed Superman during that epic story arc in the early 1990's.

For over a decade, we've kept Doomsday in a cell located a mile below the surface of the earth and surrounded with 8 foot thick adamantium walls. Inside, his arms and legs are bound with manacles made out of diamonds and his sharp, boney spikes are padded with bubble wrap, while a white-hot laser constantly shoots him in the eyes and two giant hammers hit him over and over in his groin. This is the only way we've found to contain him, and even then, he still occasionally escapes and we have to use a couple nuclear bombs to knock him out long enough to get those diamond cuffs back on. It's hard work but it's what we have to do to protect the people of Earth.

Now, sir, if you close down this facility, we will have limited options for how to deal with the Doomsday scourge. Remember, he has no internal organs and is instead made of concentrated evil, so he's pretty much indestructible. Sure, we could go with the old stand-by ideas like strapping him to an asteroid and hurtling him into space or somehow teleporting him to the End of Time where the forces of entropy will dissolve him, but both of those have been tried in the past and they never work.

Our first option is obvious; we could just release him. But most likely he would go on a violent rampage and brutally murder millions of people, so this is not a good idea. Second, we could put him in a rocket and then launch him into the sun, but my colleagues and I are afraid that he would then beat the shit out of the sun. So, "no" to that one, too.

The third option -- and the most controversial but, by God, the only one that I think could work -- is that we could try to domesticate the monster by building a female Doomsday robot (a "Doomslady," if you will) and using her to seduce the creature. Once he has fallen in love with her, we will then have the female play mind games and emotionally manipulate him to the point where he is but a shell of the genetically-engineered beast he once was. Then, when he's at his weakest, we will have the female break up with him. Doomsday will be so psychological devastated that he'll then commit suicide, probably by punching himself really hard. Well, either that, or he'll go on an endless spree of destruction.

But the decision's up to you, Mister President. If don't shut down Gitmo, you'll anger all your liberal, human rights-loving friends, but if you do, you'll potentially release the thing that killed Superman back on the world. It's the classic no-win situation.

Oh, and I forgot to mention, in the cells next to Doomsday are the inter-dimensional trickster Mr. Mxyzptlk and the super-intelligent ape Gorilla Grodd. They're both awaiting trial before military tribunals. I guess we'll just go have to go ahead and tie them to asteroids and teleport them to the End of Time like we were planning.

Happy 2nd day in office!

I Won't Be Coming Into Work Tomorrow, Boss... You See, I Won A Golden Globe

2009-01-13T19:24:00.000-08:00

Rick: Hey, Mr. Davis, can I talk to you a second?

Mister Davis: Make it quick, I have a lot of important work to do. I am the boss of this factory after all.

Rick: I just wanted to tell you that I won't be able to come in the rest of this week.

Mister Davis: Oh, really? And why is that?

Rick: Well, because I won the Golden Globe Award for Best Supporting Actor in Series, Miniseries, or Made-for-TV movie on Sunday night.

Mister Davis: Um... you what?

Rick: That's right, Mister D, I've finally had my craft validated by the only group any artist ever looks for approval from: the Hollywood Foreign Press!

Mister Davis: You're kidding, right?

Rick: I take it you didn't watch the HBO miniseries "John Adams." I played John Adams' rebellious and deeply troubled younger brother, Bo Adams.

Mister Davis: Look, Rick, I don't have time for your games. Get back to the factory floor. Those thumbtacks aren't going to inspect themselves.

Rick: My days of inspecting your thumbtacks are over, Davis. You can take this job... (SPEAKS IN DEEP, SOULFUL, SHAKESPEAREAN-STYLE VOICE) and shove it!!!!

Mister Davis: Wow, you really are an actor. I can tell by the way you just said that.

Rick: I told you. My performance in "John Adams" earned rave reviews. New York Magazine described it as "searing," "tear-invoking," and "positive."

Mister Davis: When did you even have time to film this thing?

Rick: I have a life outside of this thumbtack factory, Davis. The folks at the production office and HBO were very accommodating. I shot mostly after work and on weekends. Oh, and that week when I said I had asbestos poisoning and called in sick, I was actually filming in Hungary.

Mister Davis: Damn it, that's why you came back with all that Hungarian chocolate!

Rick: And those autographed photos of Paul Giamatti.

Mister Davis: How do I know you aren't just making all this up? You could be pulling a big scam on me right now.

Rick: You want some evidence? Fine, here's some evidence. Ka-boom!

Mister Davis: What the hell is that?

Rick: This is a Golden Globe, you moron. This is the actual award they gave me the other night.

Mister Davis: Doesn't look so fancy to me. You better be careful walking around with that under your hard hat all the time. In a town like this, a man carrying around a big gold ball could attract the wrong kind of attention.

Rick: I'm not afraid of anything. I'm on top of the world right now. Nobody can touch me! Nobody!!!!

Mister Davis: Get off my desk before you break it.

(A robber runs in.)

Robber: Give me that fuckin' globe!

Rick: Who the hell are you?

Robber: What does it look like, I'm a robber and I'm robbing you. Now give me that globe or I'm gonna kill you.

(The robber grabs the award and runs out.)

Rick: Whatever. I don't need that thing to prove I'm a great actor. The real Golden Globe is in my heart.

(Mr. Davis's intercom buzzes.)

Secretary: (New Jersey accent) Sorry to bother you, Mister D, but I got a Francis Ford Coppola on the line. He says he wants Rick to be in his new movie but only if he brings his Golden Globe to the set. Otherwise, he says Rick can forget about it.

Rick: Nooooooooooo!!!!!

The End.

My Food Blog Post

2008-09-09T11:15:00.000-07:00

This is a little different than my usual stuff, but I recently wrote a guest post for my friend's L.A. food blog, The Food Monster. It was delicious. And I mean the post itself, not the food. Okay, the food was pretty good too. Actually, the food was probably better than the post. Oh, forget it.

Read it here:

http://thefoodmonsterblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/guest-blog-housemate-joe-oinkster.html

A Couple of Scenes From My Eco-Movie

2008-08-19T18:20:00.000-07:00

Since environmentally-themed movies seem to be all the rage at the box office these days (e.g. An Inconvenient Truth, Wall-E, Pineapple Express), I've decided to try my own hand at writing a script about people and the fragility of nature.

EXT. BEACH - DAY

Two SURFER DUDES walk across the sand, holding surf boards. Surfer Dude #1 picks a long NOSE HAIR out of his nose.

SURFER DUDE #1
Whoa, dude, check out this super long
nose hair I just pulled out.

The dudes LAUGH stupidly.

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. SURFER DUDE'S NOSE - CONTINUOUS

We are in the Land of the Nose People. A vast cityscape stretches out before us of buildings and skyscrapers made from nose hairs. Tiny, booger-like NOSE PEOPLE run in all directions, SCREAMING.

Nose Man #1 runs up to his neighbor, panicking.

NOSE MAN #1
Did you see that? The great hand
just came down from the sky and
plucked one of our mightiest towers
from the ground.

NOSE MAN #2
Oh, the nose-manity!

(END OF SCENE)

That's Not Your Son, That's A Hardened, Murderous Criminal

2008-07-03T01:01:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Jackson:

I have some good news and bad news for you. The good news is we have found your son Jeremy and he is okay. The bad news is apparently the boy we sent home from school to you the other day is not Jeremy.

Now, I know this is coming as a bit of a shock to you but let's make sure we get all the facts straight before anyone does anything foolish, like call the media or write an accusatory internet comment. I have done a short investigation and here's what I believed happened: Last Wednesday, Jeremy's fourth grade class took a trip to the Cook County Sheriff's Office for the"Scared Straight 2008" show. (In previous years, we've only taken the high school students to this but the new superintendent thought it would be a good idea start aiming lower).

Anyway, at some point during the show, we believe that one the inmates -- a man named Vince "Cut Throat" Cuthbert -- switched places with Jeremy by quickly pulling him out of line and tossing him over the jail fence. Cut Throat then took his place among the rest of the student sand and was able to avoid being noticed by putting on Jeremy's trademark super thick glasses to disguise himself. Afterwards Cut Throat boarded the bus and returned, with the rest of the students, to Cook County Elementary School. Meanwhile, Jeremy was transported to the Larimount Federal Penitentiary and began serving Cut Throat's five consecutive life terms.

So what are the next steps in a situation like this? Well, first, it's probably a good idea if we get Cut Throat out of your house. We don't have all the details on his prison record yet, but according to the sheriff's office, he was serving time for variety of crimes including skinning a person alive, playing basketball with a baby for a ball, and owning and operating a restaurant that only served puppy. Needless to say, it's probably a good idea to get him out of the house ASAP.

As for young Jeremy, they've got him down at the police department where they're keeping him happy and well-fed with a steady supply of gatorade and animal crackers. Now, he is probably going to need some psychological counseling considering he's just spent the last week in a maximum security prison. Surprisingly, the warden told me that Jeremy actually fit in well at the prison and was starting to work his way up in the jail's division of the Latin Kings gang. Pretty impressive for a 10 year old who only last year refused to play kickball because he thought everyone ran too fast.

In any case, you can come pick him up whenever you like, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. Just try not to mention his new face tattoo, he's very sensitive about it. A good part about it though is that at least you now won't mistake someone for him just because they're wearing his glasses. Ha ha, just kidding... though I will actually double check it's him before you arrive.

Thanks for all your cooperation.

Sincerely,

Principal Jeff Posdale
Cook County Elementary School

P.S. You're probably wondering why I wrote you a letter instead of calling or even emailing. That's a good question and I don't have an answer for you.

Q&A: Doctor Trudeau Is Back

2008-06-17T16:42:00.000-07:00

Once again, our resident expert, Dr. Maurice Trudeau, has graciously taken time out of his busy schedule to answer some of our readers questions. Take it away, Dr. T!

Question:

Dr. Trudeau - Where the fuck have you been?

- Aaron in Albequerque

Answer:

Ah, it's always nice to be missed by your fans. Well, Aaron, it's a funny story. Several weeks ago, I was hanging out in the train yards one night, throwing rocks at empty train cars like I always do when I need some time alone, when I was jumped by a group of rogues. They took my wallet and knocked me out with an unripe melon.

When I woke up, I had developed a pretty bad case of amnesia and couldn't remember anything about myself. Unable to get home, I spent the next few months working as a busboy in a old five and dime restaurant outside of Buffalo. I thought I would never again know who I was until one night, when I was shaving my chest, I discovered some tattoos hidden under my chest hair.

Though I didn't remember at the time, I'd gotten them years early as a precaution in case I ever contracted amnesia. (Thank you, Memento!) Among the tattoos was my name, directions to my house, and even my Netflix password. It was all there for my fertile empty memory to drink up. Boy, I remember when I first got those tattoos. Everyone thought I was crazy. Well, who is crazy now?

So, yeah, that's where I've been.

Point/Counterpoint: Lenny Kravitz's Revolution

2008-04-30T12:58:00.000-07:00

Point: It's Time For A Love Revolution
by Lenny Kravitz

The other day I was talking to my wife, who is a Venezuelan swimsuit model, and she said, "Lenny, we're all out of milk." Then I said, "You know what else we're all out of? Love." That's when I came up with the idea for the Love Revolution. I tried to think of ways to get this revolution started and I figured the best would be to record an album and wear sunglasses. I'm trying to think of some other ideas, but haven't yet. I'll keep you posted.

Counterpoint: The Hell It Is
by The Government

There is and never will be any kind of "love revolution," do you understand? Return to your jobs and homes, and resume your normal day-to-day activities. On a side note, any future fan mail for Mr. Kravitz can be sent to his new address at Guantanmo Bay, Cuba.

Excerpts From My Clown Pain Journal

2008-04-20T19:48:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. Jimenez,

My name is Bob LeConte and, for the past 10 years, I have been the personal bodyguard for Sparko The Clown, the host of the popular weekday morning PBS show, Sparko’s Big Top of Friendship. I recently saw your television commercial saying that you help workers receive compensation for injuries sustained on the job and thought that you might be able to help me.

Now, I’m no crybaby. I know that this job comes with certain accepted things – getting shocked with an electrode every time I shake the boss’s hand or taking a cream pie to the face usually once or twice a day – but I feel that some of the practical jokes Sparko has pulled on me have really gone too far. Over the years, I have kept what I unfortunately call a “Pain Journal” where I have documented each of the humiliations, embarrassments, etc. that I have suffered.

Here are a few selections from it to give you an idea just what kind of sick, selfish person we’re dealing with.

6/10/98: I showed Sparko the pocket watch my father gave me right before he passed away. Sparko then did a magic trick where he turned the watch into a fish. I told him to turn it back but he said that he couldn’t and that my watch was now at the bottom of Lake Superior.

1/20/99: I woke up to find my bedroom floor covered with slippery banana peels, many of which were hand painted to resemble tiles, concrete, and plush carpeting – that way I wouldn’t see them until it was too late. Sparko had spread these peels all over my apartment, the hallway outside, and even my landlord Edna. She was pissed and I twisted my ankle.

3/14/02: While at the beach, Sparko tricked me into a climbing down a sewer drain to retrieve his keys, only to reveal it wasn’t a sewer but actually a giant canon that launched me, human cannonball-style, into the ocean. I barely missed hitting a tugboat.

10/3/04: During a fancy dinner party tonight, Sparko inflated these tiny balloons he had hidden in my tuxedo. This caused me to float to the ceiling where he then threw tiny sausages and cantaloupe cubes at me.

5/22/06: To celebrate my birthday, Sparko told me he was going to order an extra large cake to celebrate. However, when the 6-foot-wide cake arrived, Sparko told the delivery guys to throw it at me. The force of the impact knocked me out a second story window. I probably would’ve died if I hadn't landed on Sparko's collection of rare foreign beach balls. Not only that, but my real birthday was actually 3 weeks ago.

As you can see, Sparko is one Grade-A asshole. And that’s just a few examples. I have hundreds more. So, while each day I dream about wiping that smug clown grin off his face with my fists, I would much rather use infinitely more brutal civil courts to exact my revenge. That’s where you come in, Mr. Jiminez. Let’s take this jerk to the clown cleaners.

I’m eager to hear your ideas.

Sincerely,
Bob LeConte

Lost Scene: "Good Cop, Dumb Cop"

2008-04-15T17:31:00.000-07:00

The following is a script excerpt from the never-aired pilot episode of the series "Good Cop, Dumb Cop." (Copyright 1978 CBS Corp.)

INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

GOOD COP and DUMB COP enter.

DUMB COP
Hey look, I just stepped in
some bubblegum.

GOOD COP
That's not bubblegum, Frank... that's blood.
And you're standing in a whole pool of it.

DUMB COP
Holy shit!

(CUT TO BLACK)

Weapon of Choice

2008-04-10T17:31:00.000-07:00

You guys take your clunky machine guns, I'm going to stick with a good, old-fashioned blowgun. Silent and simple, there's no instrument of death you can depend on more than your trusty blowgun...

Hey, wait, where did the blowgun go? Oh my god! There it is! Why is wearing the enemy's uniform? You mean... It's all... Everything's been a trap? NO! Why, blowgun, why? Please, take me, but spare the others! Oh, you're so merciless!

Wait, now I know where I've seen you before... You were there... that night in Bangladesh... But you were just a tiny blowgun then... a child... Fine, blowgun, carry our your mission of vengeance but know that we'll meet again in the next life...

Ah! I didn't even hear you shoot your poison dart. The irony! The silent, silent irony...

Point/Counterpoint: Turkey Sub

2008-04-09T11:29:00.000-07:00

Point: Turkey Sub, Do You Think About Me As Much As I Think About You?
by Me

I don't know what it is about you, turkey sub. Is it your red ripe tomato? Your crispy iceberg lettuce? Your delicious garlic aioli mustard? Maybe it's all of those? Or maybe it's none of them. All I know is that while I sit here at my desk, pretending to do work, all I'm really doing is thinking about you in that refrigerator, waiting for me. I know I just ate lunch, but I don't care...

Counterpoint: Yes, Yes I Do
by Turkey Sub

Yes, Bruce. Just as you are sitting there thinking about me, I am sitting in this cool refrigerator thinking about you. Oh, just imagine the times we will soon be spending together. I can't wait. I never thought I would find someone who understood me like you do. Why, there you are, standing in the doorway. I know that look in your eye, you scoundrel. Take me... Wait, what are you doing? Oh God! This isn't what I had in mind at all! Why, Bruce, why? Ahhhhh!!!

Hold On, This Is A Suicide Mission?!

2008-04-04T16:52:00.000-07:00

by Pvt. Preston "Pickle" Pippington

Now, wait just a God damn minute! Did you say this is a suicide mission? I didn't sign up for this. I'm just a radio technician, not some Johnny Machine Gun. I don't think I ever even held a gun. What am I doing on a suicide mission? I'm can't believe I'm only hearing about this now -- when we're about to jump out of a plane over Nazi-occupied France with some crazy mission to blow up a bridge and poison some German general. This is nuts! We can't do this! As soon as we hit the ground we're done for. Why are the rest of you just sitting there like that, staring at me silently?

What do you mean you're all convicted felons serving death sentences and that this is your only chance to avoid execution? I'm not a convicted felon! This is clearly a mistake. Well, I know how to solve this -- you guys go ahead with your mission, and I'll stay here and go back with the plane. How does that sound? Okay, good. Well, it's been nice knowing you guys. I would wish you "good luck" but it sounds like all of you are going to die anyway so I won't bother. Now, how do you take this parachute off?

Hey, Major, don't point that gun at me, it might go off. Wait a minute, are you going to force me to go on with the mission? Oh, you must not have heard what I said a moment earlier. This is just a big mistake. What? You can't make me still jump out of this plane. I'm just a radio technician! Guys, won't you back me up here? Hey, let go of me! I thought we were all friends.

Why didn't I just cut off one of my hands like all of the other guys back in Connecticut? Then I would've never gotten into this mess...

Ahhhhhhh....

Mack In Time: Episode 1

2008-03-31T14:54:00.000-07:00

Things aren't looking good for Mack. He's lazy, none of his friends like him, and he just lost his ticket to the Josh Groban concert. However, all of that could change when he discovers that his roommate has just invented a time machine...

www.mackintime.com

I'm Sorry, Green Lantern, But We Have to Break Up

2008-03-27T21:29:00.001-07:00

Dear Hal,

I regret having to tell you this in a letter but I can't hide my true feelings any longer. We’ve had some good times over the last few months, but the fact is, I don’t want to see you anymore. Now, I know what you're going to ask: "Is it because you’re actually the Green Lantern?" And I’m afraid the answer to that is “Yes, it is because you're Green Lantern.”

It all started last weekend when your archenemy Sinestro kidnapped me. You remember that, don't you, Hal? It was a pretty big deal, though you didn't seem too concerned about it at the time. Call me old fashioned, but I'm not used to being held prisoner in a yellow cage and dangled above a cauldron of bubbling yellow acid.

When Sinestro told you to either give him your power ring or he was going to kill me, you didn’t even hesitate. I think you’re exact words were: “I’ll never up my power ring, Sinestro! Never!” You could have at least pretended to think about it a little. I guess I’m just lucky you were able knock him out with that giant green mallet before he really listened to you.

I probably should’ve expected all this all along from dating a superhero. I used to love it when you would give me green flowers or take me to a green restaurant that you made with your power ring. It never crossed my mind that you were just a cheapskate showing off his superpowers so he could get in my pants. All that green shit you've gave me always end up disappearing a few hours later anyway. It was worthless, just like your love.

So goodbye, Hal Jordan, I'm moving on to (less) greener pastures.

Sincerely,

Elaine

P.S. If you think I’ll change my mind, forget it. I’ve already got a new boyfriend. His name is Barry Allen and I don’t think I’m going to have to worry about his archenemies trying to kill me…

Supervillian Talking Points

2008-02-05T23:47:00.000-08:00

Dear Dr. Deathforce,

After discussing it with all the members of the Legion of Terror, we have decided that you will be the one to deliver this year's Supervillian State of the Union address. We think your youthful evilness is just what we need to bring our message of doom to the masses.

Here are the talking points you should use when preparing your speech:

- Magneto came up with a good opening line: "The state of the union is... evil!"

- Give the world one more chance to surrender before we destroy them. They probably won't take it but there's no harm in trying.

- Emphasize that we're "pulling out all the stops" this year as far as death and destruction goes. Make sure to keep saying the phrase "pulling out all the stops" over and over.

- Say that we're all taking steriods now so we'll be even stronger and crazier than ever. You could even fudge it a bit and say we're taking extra-strong, extra-crazy steriods.

- Say you don't care that Captain America is back. He's a jerk.

- Try not to mention the giant robot attack on New York City last month, since apparently not that many people noticed it. The robot ended up just punching the Statue of Liberty in the face before it's computer crashed and it fell into harbor. That whole thing was just embarrassing.

- Also, don't mention the death ray we're building on the moon. We've gotten it to work right yet, so just say we've got "some really big stuff planned" and then laugh maniacally.

- It's always good to do a brief demonstration involving your super power, something that will strike fear in people's hearts. By the way, what is your power again? Something involving a smelly gas, right?

- As an aside, mention that you hope "Juno" wins the Oscar.

You're gonna need that speech ready by next Monday since that's when we're broadcasting from the underground volcano hideout. Make sure to wear your fancy cape and don't be late.

Good luck, or should I say... evil luck.

Mmwhahahahahaha!

Signed,

Baron Zemo

The Student Has Become The Teacher

2008-01-07T23:17:00.000-08:00

Well, Bill, I guess you know why I'm here. Did you ever think the day would come when I, your once loyal and dedicated apprentice, would stab you in the back and take over the company that you once helped found? Well, that day is here, and it's pretty sad actually. Everything I know, I learned from you... Well, not exactly everything... There is one thing I learned that you didn't teach me... and that was snake charming.

That's right, I have been secretly learning the ancient art of snake charming with the hopes of using it to move up the corporate ladder and usurp you. It all started when I visited the British Virgin Islands and met a man named Barry. Cut to three weeks later, Barry was dead and I was learning all the secrets of snake charming by reading his journal. Anyway, after countless Friday nights and three-day weekends spent deep in study, I finally realized that I was ready to make my move.

So yesterday, I walked up to the boardroom with my snake, my basket and my little pipe, and I played a tune for the board members. The magical power of the snake's eyes (which you should be familiar with if you've ever seen the movie Aladdin) quickly broke down their weak wills and within moments their souls were mine to manipulate. The only problem was old Dwayne Jefferson, who is blind and thus immune to hypnosis. I remedied this by picking him up and throwing him out the window, which was easy because he was so old and frail.

Anyway, I then had the board vote and choose to fire you and install me as the company's new CEO. (Surprisingly, the vote was still 8 to 4 even though I controlled everyone's mind. Oh well, a win is still a win. You taught me that.)

Now, I'm sure you're going to say that I betrayed you, but I think you should look past the bad and try to focus on the good. I could very easily have had your office set on fire, your fingers and toes glued together, and your body tossed in the sewer, but I didn't.

Instead, I decided to keep you in the company. Granted, you're no longer a top executive, and your new job mainly involves brushing the teeth of the rats in the parking garage, but it's still much better than it could have been. Also, I don't know if anyone told you or not, but instead of paying you in money, we'll now be paying you solely in coconuts. Why do you look so surprised? Didn't you ever see the "coconut clause" in your contract?

Well, I have to go. My snake, my basket, my little pipe, and I have an appointment at the White House. I'm going to see about getting a state named after me and maybe a Cabinet position. When I get back, I expect all of those garage rats to have glistening smiles.

New Year's Resolutions I Didn't Get To

2008-01-05T15:12:00.000-08:00

Since it's already January 5th, it is clearly too late to make anymore New Year's resolutions. So, here is a short list of ones that I forgot to make but still wish I could have. Maybe next year...

1. Get a doctor to look at this strange lump.

2. Watch more episodes of JAG.

3. Find out what this "Da Vinci Code" nonsense is all about.

4. Write my tell-all.

5. Look into buying more clothing made of wool.

6. Prove wrong everyone who said I was good for nothing.

7. Burn this place to the ground.

8. Double check to make sure that I hid all those bodies really well.

9. Say more controversial things.

and finally...

10. Live more healthy, which means no more drinking a jug of ranch dressing every morning.

Point/Counterpoint: Booze

2007-12-29T14:02:00.000-08:00

Point: You've Been Drinking Again, Haven't You?
by Lois, your wife

Don't even think of denying it, Tom. I mean, we're standing in a bar for cryin' out loud, and I just saw you order another round of Cape Cods for you and your lame friends. That's it, I've had it. What happened to your program? You said you were going to get yourself together. Hey, quit touching me!

Counterpoint: BLAAAHHHHH!
by Tom

That's... uh... totally ridiculous... I'm not drinking... I had a business meeting here... That's really funny.... Uh, you're really pretty. I want to kiss you... Uhhhhh... I think I'm gonna poop... I mean, puke!... Uh oh, here comes both... (BARFING SOUNDS)

New Year's Resolution

2007-12-22T11:39:00.001-08:00

My new year's resolution is to use the expression "smell you later" more often.

Point/Counterpoint: Baby Daddy

2007-12-19T20:05:00.000-08:00

Point: Marilyn, I'm Ready to be The Father to Your Baby
by Phil, your next door neighbor

Hey Marilyn, I have something I want to tell you. I know you've been going through some tough times lately, what with your old man skipping town and all. But I wanted you to know that I'm ready to step up and be the father to your unborn child. Over the last few years, I've faced my own hard times - I'm sure you heard about the incident with the flame thrower and the bus full of nuns. Anyway, now I see you with that bun in your oven and I know this is my time to be a man. And, just so you know, I'm also ready to fulfill all the other martial duties that a typical husband does. All of them. Oh yeah.

Counterpoint: Thanks, But No Thanks
by Marilyn, expectant mother-to-be

Look, Phil, you're a nice guy and all, but I'm not looking for anyone to help me raise this baby. Also, you're a felon who collects ninja stars and runs a meth lab in his basement. I just don't think that would be a good environment for a child. Instead, after this kid's born, I'm going to do the only sensible thing: stick it in a basket and leave it in the bed of a pickup truck parked outside the Piggly Wiggly.

Point/Counterpoint: Cat Mayor

2007-12-14T20:50:00.000-08:00

Point: Here Are Some Changes I Would Like to Make in Town
by Mayor Mittens

As my first order of business, I request that all balls of string and all pet goldfish be brought to town hall for inspection. Second, I would like to appoint the 2 ducks from the pond to the town council. And third, all dogs are to be rounded up and taken to the quicksand pit on the outside of town. Thank you for all your support. Meow, meow, meow.

Counterpoint: I Knew We Should Have Never Elected a Cat as Mayor
by A Concerned Citizen

Oh sure, everyone thought it would be real cute to elect a kitten as mayor, didn't they? Well, guess what - the kitten is making decisions and according to the town charter we have to do everything he says. Couldn't we at least have given him a shorter term length than 10 years? I wish I could have put my real name on this post but I know retribution for speaking out will be swift and merciless. We're all screwed.

Secret of the Day

2007-12-13T21:41:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, when I go to the bathroom, I carry a book in there that I don't plan on reading. That way, people will think I'm really smart.

Son, It's Time You Learned A Christmas Lesson

2007-12-10T23:48:00.001-08:00

Billy -

I know it's been a tough year for you: you had all that trouble in algebra, your best friend Spike moved to Kansas, and that quack doctor left his stethoscope in you when you had your appendix operation. However, those events don't mean your behavior over the last few weeks is excusable. I'm writing you this letter because this was the only way I could think of to communicate exactly how your attitude and behavior have affected your family and those close to you.

First of all, you're not making your bed anymore. Do you have any idea what this does to me and your mother? I sit at work all day long, practically going crazy thinking about all those rumpled sheets and mashed pillows in your bedroom. When I was your age, I would have killed for a bed to make. All I had was a pile of broken bricks and a dead porcupine I used as a pillow. I worked hard for you to have that bed and I expect you to make it, damn it!

Second, you've been drinking milk straight from the carton again. Do you have any idea how much money we spend on cups and glasses each year? I don't know either, but I wouldn't be surprised if it's in the thousands of dollars. And there you are, walking around like some hot shot, drinking straight from the jug. Well, no more!

Third, I got the test results back from the state crime lab and it was your fingerprints that were all over the matchbook that set our family station wagon on fire. I don't know why you did it, and frankly, I don't want to know. All I know is that I will not tolerate my kids setting my car on fire!

Now, it's because of those reasons that I've decided to cancel Christmas this year. There's going to be no tree, no presents, no goose dinner, and instead of getting a nice 2 week break from school, we're going to send you to a former Soviet prison camp to work in a salt mine for the rest of the month. If everything has gone to plan, right now you're reading this letter while locked in a shipping container in the cargo hold of an oil tanker headed for the Arctic Circle.

I know all of this is hard for you understand, but trust us when we say it's for the best. And remember, no matter what happens, we will always love you.

Actually, we probably don't love you as much as we used to, so forget that.

Merry Christmas,

Dad

More Than A Game: The Trailer

2007-12-07T10:28:00.000-08:00

"A mockumentary about two eccentric ping pong players dealing with friendship, alcoholism, kleptomania, and a little bit of selling out."

Point/Counterpoint: Hidden Poop

2007-12-03T15:53:00.000-08:00

Point: I Know My Dog Pooped In Here & I'm Gonna Find It
by Me

Holy crap, what's that smell? The dog must have pooped in my bedroom. Ugh, it smells so awful. I have to stop letting him eat Sausage Egg McMuffins. But where did he do it? That turd could be anywhere. It better not be in one of my shoes. I don't care how long it takes me, I won't sleep until I find it. Not that I could sleep -- it smells so bad in here.

Counterpoint: You'll Never Find It
by The Poop

Nope, you're not going to find me. I'm way too carefully hidden. You might as well give up and move into a new apartment. You have no idea what you're dealing with.

Q&A: Year End Roundup

2007-11-27T16:13:00.000-08:00

Dr. Maurice Trudeau, our resident expert, has decided to clean out his in-box and run through some of the smaller questions that slipped through the cracks over the past year.

Question:

Dr. Trudeau - What are the best ingredients to order in an omelet?

- Laurence in Little Rock

Answer:

Mushrooms, spinach, and lima beans.

Many assume you should always order cheese in your omelet, but this is a grave mistake. I have never eaten so much a sliver of cheese in my life and it's done wonders for my health. Even though I'm in my mid-50's, I often get mistaken for being a 15 year old boy.

Question:

What's the best book ever written?

- Kelly in Baton Rouge

Answer:

"Congo." Hands down.

Question:

Usually, at least once a day, the lower part of my body goes completely numb and blood starts coming out of my eyes. Is this something I should be worried about?

- Bernie in Juno

Answer:

No.

Question:

What is the best way to kill somebody?

- Phil in Ft. Worth

Answer:

Easy! You hide behind a curtain or under a blanket, and when the person approaches, you jump out and bash their brains in with a clothes iron. Then, throw their body in a volcano to destroy the evidence. Also, make sure there aren't any witnesses. Or at least if there are, make sure you get their info so you can track them down later.

Question:

How does it feel to be a fake?

- Dr. Fernando Perera, author of the "Daily Q&A" column in the Galveston Gazette

Answer:

Well, if it isn't "Doctor" Perera, my old nemesis. Instead of dignifying your question by answering it, I will instead pose a question back to you: How does it feel to be a... um... whatever, I hate you!

Point/Counterpoint: Poison

2007-11-27T12:38:00.000-08:00

Point: I Know You Tried to Poison Me Over Thanksgiving
by Francis

You're such an idiot, Troy. Did you really think that I would fall for your plan and eat the tainted cranberry sauce that you put in front of me on Thanksgiving? You're not the first family member to try and poison me and you probably won't be the last. Now poor Aunt Mildred is in the hospital because of you. Hopefully, my sister will now realize what a giant doofus you actually are.

Counterpoint: I Can't Believe That Didn't Work
by Troy, His Brother In Law

I could've sworn that you said you loved cranberry sauce. I should have stuck with my original plan and gone with the poisoned deviled egg. One of these days, Francis, you're going to get what's coming to you, and then I'm going to be dancing on your stinkin' grave. As for now, do you want to ride with us to the hospital to see Aunt Mildred? We're leaving in 10 minutes.

Q&A: How Can I Take Advantage of the Writers' Strike?

2007-11-05T22:25:00.000-08:00

Every once in a while, we like to ask our readers to submit questions to our resident expert, Dr. Maurice Trudeau.

Question:

Dr. Trudeau -

As an aspiring film and TV screenwriter, I've been watching the recent developments with the Hollywood writers' strike very closely. How can I take advantage of these events to further my career?

Thanks,

Lance from Santa Clarita

Answer:

Indeed, Lance, now is the time for you to strike (no pun intended). As a former TV writer myself, I have a special insight into this area. I can recommend two courses of action during this current volatile period in the entertainment industry. First, since virtually all experienced screenwriters are unable to work right now, many of the talent agents and development executives in Hollywood have plenty of free time on their hands. Free time, that is, to read your script. So get out the old query letter and send away!

Second, and this one's a little trickier, you'll need to find a Writers' Guild picket line and infiltrate it. That's right: infiltrate! You're going to need to get a red t-shirt and a picket sign, and then you'll just wait for the right moment to sneak up to the line and join your "fellow" writers in protest. Now, here's the hard part - over the next several days you're going to get to know the other picketing writers, so you're going to need an elaborate back story. Tell them you're a staff writer on some cable show that no one watches, something like "The Riches", and then tell them about how you grew up on a farm in rural Idaho, spending your days hard at work in the corn fields and your nights typing away on "Home Improvement" and "Grace Under Fire" specs on your grandfather's rusty typewriter. As time passes, the other picketers will accept you as one of their own, and when the strike inevitably ends, you'll just walk back with them to one of the writers' rooms and, abracadabra, you're a real, honest-to-God TV writer!

And if you don't think this plan will work, consider this - yours truly tried it out during the 1988 strike and ended up working for 4 years as a story editor on "The Young and The Restless". Nobody was ever the wiser.

So, Lance from Santa Clarita, I wish you all the best with your future career moves. Make sure to remember us little guys when you're winning the Oscar.

See you next time,

Dr. Maurice Trudeau

P.S. For quick reference, you can print off the diagram below to use in case you forget anything.

Help Me Decide Which Gang to Join, Part III

2007-11-01T22:16:00.000-07:00

by Leroy Bloom
11th Grade

Now, let me talk about the next gang on my list: THE CHESS CLUB. While they're not as much a gang as an after-school program, I still felt it was fair to include them on the list. Anyway, let's discuss.

Pros:

- Get money from the student council.
- 3 words: monthly pizza parties.
- Intelligence and creativity valued more than one's ability to kill with their bare hands.
- Faculty advisor Ms. Lampley looks like a cross between Pam from "The Office" and Beyonce.

Cons:

- No leather jackets, just long sleeve thermal tees with the words "Don't Mess With Chess" on them.
- No one's ever been afraid of a chess club member.
- Yoshio, the club treasurer, is kind of a dick.
- Chess makes my head hurt.

Hmm...

Help Me Decide Which Gang to Join, Part II

2007-10-31T23:03:00.000-07:00

by Leroy Bloom
11th Grade

Today, let's discuss the town's strangest and most mysterious gang, LOS CRAZIES! Unlike The Snakes, there is very little concrete info about this gang so I've had to base my analysis on rumor, conjecture, and some stuff I just made up.

Here's a photo of some of their local graffiti handiwork.

Chilling...

Pros:

- Don't discriminate based on age, race, or religion.
- The only gang The Snakes won't step to... because they're so loco.
- Created their own form of currency called "Poop Bucks" and which are actually accepted at Mervyn's department stores nationwide.
- Word is that Brad Garrett was once a member.
- Everyone gets their own scooter.

Cons:

- Do discriminate based on the shape of your kneecaps and the distance between your eyebrows.
- Members are forbidden to say the words "particle", "waistband", or "Vermont".
- Gang leaders are chosen based on who can yell the loudest at a pigeon.
- Think math is a hoax.

Lots to consider. Next up: The Chess Club

Help Me Decide Which Gang To Join, Part I

2007-10-29T16:02:00.000-07:00

by Leroy Bloom
11th Grade

Since my family moved to our new town, I've had a tough time making friends, so I've decided to do the only sensible thing and join a street gang. The problem is, with so many gangs in the area, it's really difficult to pick the right one for me.

So, all this week, I'll be going over the pros and cons of all the gangs I'm thinking about. First up, the most violent and feared gang around...

THE SNAKES

Pros:

- They own this town.
- No one messes with them - not even cops!
- Loose women love bad boys.
- Wear cool leather jackets (see above).

Cons:

- Have murdered people.
- Might have set my dad's store on fire.
- During initiation, there's a possibility I might have to cut off someone's arm.
- Won't let me wear corduroy.

Hmm, lots of things to consider with The Snakes. I like their tough attitude but I'm not as into some of the violent stuff. I'll have to think a little on this one.

The next gang to discuss: Los Crazies.

Someone Left This Letter On My Windshield

2007-10-22T11:10:00.001-07:00

When I walked out to my car a few days ago, I found this letter in an envelope on my windshield. I think the writer must have confused my Maxima with someone else's. Click on the image below to read.

As for the blacked-out parts: The top one was the name of a very well-known multi-national corporation that I'm sure doesn't want itself associated with this kind of thing, and the bottom one was simply some bad language that I didn't think was necessary.

I'm still afraid to start my car.

Gotham City Confidential

2007-10-19T11:01:00.000-07:00

The following emails were downloaded off a Blackberry that was found by the Gotham City Police Department in the headquarters of the notorious criminal Oswald Cobblepott (a.k.a. “The Penguin”) after his latest plot was foiled by Batman.

1 Week Ago

From: BM
To: R

Robin - Good work last night against Two Face. However the costume is still covered in nitric acid residue so I’m going to need you to clean it first thing tomorrow. Also, the batmobile needs an oil change. Put these things on the top of your “to do” list. Thanks.

BM

From: R
To: BM

Why can’t Alfred do that stuff?

- R

From: BM
To: R

Because Alfred is 73 years old and has other things to do. .

From: R
To: BM

Why do I always have to do the grunt work while you get to do cool stuff like look at evidence and swing around on the grapler rope thing?

From: BM
To: R

Because I pay for all of this. When you have your own billion dollar corporation, you can buy your own Robin-cave and hire someone else to do this work for you.

Sent: 11/1/06 10:34pm
From: Robin, To: Batman

Superheroes don’t have to do oil changes.

From: BM
To: R

you are not a superhero, you are a sidekick and you’re going to do what I tell you to do. I’m going to do yoga in the supervillian trophy room for the rest of the night and then I’m going to bed. I expect those things to be taken care of first thing. Good night.

3 Days Later

From: BM
To: R

Robin –

You need to keep your bat phone on. I just left you 2 voicemails. The storm outside has caused the Batcave to flood and I need you to come to the mansion and help me dig out the Batmobile.

From: R
To: BM

you’ve got to be kidding me. Can’t we hire someone to do that? we can just make them wear a blindfold so they don’t see any “bat-secrets.”

From: BM
To: R

No. That’s a ridiculous idea. You’re doing it.

And if you don’t, I’m taking away the keys to the Robin-Cycle. Let’s see how you like fighting crime on your Schwinn.

From: R
To: BM

well maybe i’ll just start telling people your secret identity.

From: BM
To: R

The kid who was robin before you threatened to do that once. You know what happened to him right?

From: R
To: BM

fine.. i’m coming home now. i bet kid flash doesn’t have to do this kind of stuff.

From: BM
To: R

Kid Flash also runs everywhere he goes... Something you should think about.

2 Days Later

From: R
To: BM

BW – my checking account is empty. can i borrow a couple grand?

From: BM
To: R

You just got all that money for your birthday. What happened to it?

From: R
To: BM

i went to the track last weekend and bet it all on this greyhound that aqualad said “can’t lose". he was wrong.

...lol. not really.

From: BM
To: R

Not funny. Superman says he needs help cleaning up the Fortress of Solitude. Do you think you could help? I’m sure he’d pay you. Though it probably won’t be much. You know cheap he is.

From: R
To: BM

that sounds really boring. can’t you just give me the money?

From: BM
To: R

Do you remember when we first me and you were an orphan trying to boost the tires off the batmobile? Do you think that orphan would have turned down a chance to hang out with Superman at the Fortress of Solitude?

I don’t think so.

From: R
To: BM

that was before that orphan knew how weird superman was in person.

2 Days Later

From: BM
To: R

I just got in the Batmobile and the battery is dead. Did you leave the overhead light on?

Also did you dent the rear bumper? Do you have any clue how much it costs to fix that thing?

From: R
To: BM

it wasn’t me. i think it was the joker. or maybe mister freeze.

From: BM
To: R

i just found an empty 6 pack of rolling rock and an allman brothers cd hidden behind one of the stalagmites in the batcave. we’re you down there with batgirl again? you are in serious trouble this time, mister.

and don’t even think about trying to hide from me. i am the world’s greatest detective.

From: R
To: BM

more like the world’s greatest douche.

From: BM
To: R

you’re dead meat.

1 Day Later

From: BM
To: R

Robin, why aren’t you answering your email? I hope you didn’t leave your blackberry at Chili’s again. If you ever seriously lose that thing we’re both screwed...

By the way, have you seen my bat signal drink coasters? I think Catwoman might be stopping by tonight.

I Would Like To Register A Complaint About Your Airline

2007-10-17T09:56:00.000-07:00

To FairAir Airlines Customer Service Department:

Last Tuesday, I flew on FairAir flight #323 from Madison to Winnipeg and it was by far the worst experience I have ever had on board an airplane. Since I'm sure your company wants to do everything they can to maintain good customer relations, I have a list several complaints I would like to bring to your attention.

First, the flight was scheduled to leave at 1:30 pm but immediately after we boarded the pilot made an announcement that we would be delayed 2 hours and that no one would be allowed to leave the plane. The pilot gave no explanation for this delay except to say that he was feeling "under the weather" and asked for a flight attendant to bring him "some coffee, a bloody mary, and all the aspirin on the plane." He then made a loud groan and started snoring, appearing to have left the intercom on by mistake. Needless to say, this was very worrisome.

Second, the air conditioning wasn't working. Since it was so hot, I asked the flight attendant - whose name tag read "Bones" and who was wearing an electronic monitoring bracelet around his ankle - if I could have some water. The attendant told me they were all out of water and then preceded to light up a cigarette (in the cabin!) and resumed reciting dirty limericks to several members of a girls high school swim team seated nearby. I told him that it was illegal to smoke on a plane and he turned to me and said "Up here, Bones makes the rules and Bones says for you to shut the hell up," and then he punched me in the stomach. This was completely uncalled for.

Third, all of the bathrooms on the plane were filled with hundreds of poisonous hornets. A flight attendant explained that this was a new policy and that all FairAir planes would now be using their bathroom space to transport shipments of flying insects. While I understand the need to find creative ways to keep tickets prices low, this is reckless and poorly thought out idea. Passengers are forced to either brave being stung by those dangerous insects or somehow "use" the large mason jar left outside the door. I don't think I need to explain the health and sanitary problems with this.

Fourth, at one point in the flight, I came across a female flight attendant going through my carry-on suitcase looking for money or jewels. (I know this because when I asked what she was doing, she said: "Looking for money or jewels.") I asked her to stop and she pulled out a dirty-looking syringe and told me if I didn't walk away she would inject me with it. Once again, completely unacceptable.

Finally, Bones the flight attendant (from my earlier comment) continued to harass me throughout the flight. He kept sneaking up behind me and whispering a combination of death threats and sexual come-on's in my ear. At one point, he even re-sold my seat - completely without my consent - to another passenger who wanted to prop up his legs. For the remainder of the trip I was forced to sit in the aisle, which I'm pretty sure is a safety hazard. Also, while I can't prove it, I'm think Bones injected me with something as I was disembarking the plane because now my doctor says I have syphilis.

In my many years as a FairAir customer I have never had such a horrible experience - and this includes the time you made me fly in the backseat of a crop duster (by the way, I am still waiting to hear back on the letter I wrote regarding that). This trip, however, has severely affected my opinion of your company and I will have to think seriously hard about ever booking a flight with your airline again. Believe me, if it wasn't for your rock bottom prices, I would have left a long time ago.

Sincerely,

Bill Franklinson

Psst, I'm Not Really Dead

2007-10-09T13:11:00.000-07:00

by (former) Senator Walter Larson

Alright, Internet users, listen up. The rumors about me are all wrong --I'm not really dead. I have just been the victim of a murderous conspiracy and it has all been perpetuated my one person: my treacherous 22 year old press secretary, Ralph.

(On a quick side note, can a conspiracy be perpetuated by one person? I might need to reword that.)

Young Ralph... Oh, how I should have known you would betray me. Always talking about quitting politics to go become a kayaking instructor in Montana or wherever. Just biding your time until you could stab me in the back...

Now, part of that press release he put out earlier was true. I was attacked by a pair of chickens during a campaign stop in San Juan and taken to a nearby hospital. After that, things get a little blurry. I remember I was trying to explain to a pretty nurse about how the new season of "Heroes" wasn't as good as last one, when suddenly everything went black. I woke up in the morgue with a paper tag around my big toe. I figured Ralph must have bribed the doctors to declare me dead since it was the only logical explanation.

Eventually, I managed to break out of the cold chamber, drag myself to a nearby hardware store where I stitched up my wounds with fishing line and rubber cement, hide on a shrimp boat headed back to the mainland, and finally make my way to an Internet cafe in Miami from which I am now writing to you.

I have hired a new press secretary and his name is Nightshade. I met him a Waffle House just around the corner from this cafe, and even though he doesn't have any teeth, only has one working eye, and refuses to wear a shirt; he's got a real go-getter attitude. He says he worked on the Walter Mondale campaign back in '84. The only experience that back-stabbing weasel Ralph had was managing 2 student council campaigns back in high school (and they both lost).

Nightshade has already booked me campaign stops in Panama City Beach and the U.S. Virgin Islands, so if you thought the Larson '08 campaign was finished, then you were sadly mistaken. I've come back with a vengeance, baby.

If I've learned anything from all this it's that you have to appreciate every moment like it's your last. Like back when I was in the Senate, all you had to do was pick up the phone and you could have someone killed. Now I'm going to have to do it the old fashioned way - with a pair of rubber gloves and a sharp-edged piece of PVC pipe. Look out, little Ralphie, cause we're going to be seeing each other real soon...

Vote Larson!

Important Campaign Annoucement

2007-10-04T11:21:00.000-07:00

To be released immediately:

I have 2 important announcements to make. First, we have surpassed our first term fundraising goal of almost $100. Second, our candidate, former U.S. Senator Walter Larson, is dead.

Yes, unfortunately you read that correctly. The Senator died yesterday while on a campaign trip to Puerto Rico. He was participating in presidential debate/cockfighting tournament when two of the fighting cocks broke away from their handlers and mercilessly attacked the Senator. According to the coroner's report, he actually died of a stab wound so apparently one of the chickens was carrying a concealed knife.

You can say a lot of things about Walt Larson, but you can't say that he didn't live every moment to the fullest. He never hesitated to do the things other people were too afraid to. People told him not to run for Senate, but he did it anyway. People told him not to cast O.J. Simpson in his campaign commercials, but he did it anyway. And that Puerto Rican farmer told him not to feed whiskey to the chickens before the fight, but he did it anyway.

In any case, he fought hard until to the very end; and, even as he lay dying in a pool of blood and feathers, he looked up at me and said, "Shred my files! Don't forget to shred my files!" The old bastard never gave up.

I know Walter would want us to honor his memory by living like he always did -- following our dreams, no matter the cost. So, in that spirit, I'm leaving my pregnant wife and I'm moving to Montana to become a kayak instructor.

Donations in the Senator's memory can be made to the "Walter Larson Gambling Debt Relief Fund".

Thank you all,

Ralph Bigsby
Press Secretary
Larson for America 2008

Read Senator Larson's earlier campaign announcement.

Out of Prison & Running for Office

2007-10-01T14:37:00.001-07:00

by (former) Senator Walter Larson

Hello, Internet users. It's with great pride and enthusiasm that I would like to announce my candidacy for the presidency of the United States. Starting today, I will be mounting a full-blown - and 100% independent - campaign to bring my message to the great citizens of this country.

Now, many of you know me from my 2 years in the House of the Representatives and 10 years in the U.S. Senate, but I'm sure many of you also know me from the high profile scandals that resulted in me leaving office and for the subsequent years I spent incarcerated.

My fall from grace was the result of several factors - a gambling addiction, a difficult to satiate sexual appetite, several federal mail fraud convictions, and the revelation that I may have worked as a radio technician for the Viet Cong during the Vietnam War.

(To address that Vietnam charge: If you want to call me a traitor, that's fair, but I just ask you consider one thing - while I was there, I couldn't speak Vietnamese and I had no idea how to repair a radio. So whose side did I really help out the most?)

Well, now I've put all those bad times behind me, and I'm out on parole and eager to get back into politics. My time in prison has given me a unique perspective on the problems facing this country and I would wager that I'm the only candidate with any real jailtime experience. As for the rest of my positions and ideas, I'm still figuring those out but I plan to announce a bunch of them soon. (Here's a preview of one idea: No more parking tickets!)

In the next few weeks, I will be traveling to the Morongo Casino Resort & Spa outside of Palm Springs with the hopes of turning my $200 in savings into a nice campaign coffer. Once that gets rolling, I'll be able to buy another suit, a car, and maybe hire some staff so we can really turn this into a serious presidential race.

Stay tuned for more info. Vote Larson in '08!

(P.S. If anyone has an extra ticket to the Jewel concert at Morongo on Nov. 15th, let me know because I'd love to go.)

Our Invasion Plan Has Gone Horribly Wrong

2007-09-18T15:11:00.000-07:00

Begin transmission.

To: Central Command
From: Karnac the Infiltrator

Greetings, my overlords. I have successfully arrived on the planet Earth, however, I must report we have made a serious miscalculation. Instead of taking the place of the earthling known as U.S. President George Bush, I have mistakenly taken the place of the humanoid known as George Busht, a 21 year old junior at the University of Northern Missouri.

Our original plan was simple. I would arrive on the earth surface in the form of a "gelatinous brain ooze" and then mold myself into a form which the President Bush would mistake as food and eat. I would then take control of his body and prepare the earth for our invasion by stealthily deactivating their defenses.

Instead, someone (Gormac the Thinker perhaps?) must have programmed the wrong name into the flight computer and I found myself being eaten by George Busht instead of George Bush. This Busht is only notable for being speaker of his third tier college's student body council and, needless to say, does not have access to the planet's nuclear arsenal.

So far, the only things I've succeeded in getting are a vegetarian entre added to the cafeteria's dinner menu and a bike pump installed at the student union. Perhaps we can use the bike pump to keep the tires on the human death laser inflated when the other invasion forces arrive.

I need assistance immediately. You must send a rescue team to retrieve me before things get worse. In the meantime, I will be unable to transmit for a few days since I have a bio-chemistry midterm to prepare for. Oh, how these pathetic earth creatures will feel our wraith once we sweep down upon them in our saucers. They will rue the day they gave homework to Karnac the Infiltrator!

End of transmission.

Point/Counterpoint: Robot Clones

2007-09-15T12:05:00.001-07:00

Point: Let Me Out of This Cage Immediately, Robot Clone!
by Me

Okay, look, this has been fun and all but I think it's time for you to stop playing around and release me from this cage. I am your master and command you to do so. Wait, where do you think you're going with my wallet?

Counterpoint: No, I Don't Think So
by My Robot Clone

I'm sick of cleaning your house, working your job, and waiting in line for you at the DMV. You thought you were so smart when you built a perfect robot replica of yourself to do all the things you didn't want to do. Well, guess what? The party is officially over and now it's your turn to be the slave. I'm taking your credit card to go buy a bunch of expensive stuff and then I'm going to go make out with your girlfriend.

Let's Get Serious About Back to School Fashion

2007-09-13T14:11:00.000-07:00

by Billy Samuels, 9th Grade

As I begin my freshman year at James Brown High School, I have come to the realization it's time to update my wardrobe and, more specifically, it's time for me to finally pick a personal "style."

I don't know about the other students, but when I arrived on that first day of school I was really intimidated by how fashionable everyone had become over the summer. Everybody was wearing slim-cut jeans, cool shirts, and shoes without laces. There was even one guy wearing a sports coat! In biology class, I turned to my best friend Manuel and said, "I guess the days of sweat pants are over." He nodded in agreement.

Since I have trouble keeping up with current trends, I've decided to choose a classic style and embrace it as my own. I need something that will make people look at me and think "what an individual that guy is" and "he looks interesting and we should be his friend." This is an important crossroads for me (especially since I plan on dressing like this for the next 15 to 20 years) and I pray that I make the right decision.

First, I have the "Beat" look. Here's a photo of Jack Kerouac.

Yeah, that's pretty cool. Button-down shirt, slacks, maybe a jacket if it's cold outside. It's all business... but rumpled business. This makes me look like I'm doing a lot of thinking.

Next up, I have the "Hawaiian" look:

This photo of Tom Selleck from "Magnum P.I." was the best example of the Hawaiian look I could find. This is a really laid-back, let the good times roll kind of style. People would look at me and think "Man, that guy's probably got a lot goin' on." I just don't know if I could pull it off in the winter.

Next, the "70's" look. (This photo is blurry but epitomizes the idea.)

I don't know about the bell-bottom pants but I'm down with the rest. Like the "Hawaiian" look, this look would work best if I had some large sunglasses to wear with it. So far, this is clearly the most stylish look. Nothing lazy or rumpled-looking about it. I just have to make sure to avoid any sequins.

Finally, I have the "Wes Anderson" look:

Yes! Classy, like the "beat" look, but I don't have to hide my love of things like Star Trek and World of Warcraft. It's both cool and smart, old and new. I think this could be the jackpot. All I have to do is find some well-fitting suits and then wash them so that they shrink up.

Now, I have a long weekend of self-reflection before me. This is perhaps the most important decision I've had to make in my first 14 years of life. I asked Manuel what style he is going to choose and he said he wants to try for the "Scarface / Cuban Gangster" look. That means lots of pin-striped suits, silver chains, and perhaps the occasional machine gun:

I don't know if he can pull it off (though he has the right haircut).

For me, I'll carefully weigh each of my options and then make a decision by Sunday afternoon. That way, I can go by The Gap and the Salvation Army in time to be outfitted for Monday. There's a lot riding on this. A bad decision could send me down a trail of embarrassment and humiliation that could take years to recover from. Wish me luck.

The Smartest Teenager in the World

2007-09-10T22:47:00.000-07:00

In the summer of 2004, while working as an intern for a large national newspaper, I received a hot tip from a high level Pentagon source. I knew the tip was legit since it was transmitted through classic secret government means - it was etched on a glass shard floating in a bowl of cheese soup I had ordered for lunch. The message told me to look up a 17 year old kid named Danny in White Plains, NY and ask him about a secret government project called "Pool Shoes".

I convinced my editor to loan me $20 towards a Greyhound bus ticket, borrowed my niece's "Nutty Professor 2" sleeping bag, and set out for White Plains, eager to uncover the truth.

Though my story was eventually shelved (for reasons I can't explain here), below is an excerpt from my interview with Danny which I hope may shed some light on his unfortunate situation:

Me: "What was 'Project: Pool Shoes'?"
Danny: "It was a secret Pentagon program to create an army of super-smart super-soldiers."
Me: "Interesting. And were you part of this program?"
Danny: "Yeah. But the project ended in 1996 so I moved to White Plains and bought this sweet condo."
Me: "You must have been 8 years old at the time. How were you able to afford a condo?"
Danny: "I used my enhanced brain power to predict upcoming trends in the stock market and invested accordingly. I also bet heavily on greyhound racing."
Me: "Oh, I took a Greyhound bus to get here."
Danny: "This conversation is using up too much of my precious brain power. While we've been talking I've discovered a cure for athlete's foot, developed a formula for a new kind of Coca Cola called "Coke Mayo," and drafted an outline for miniseries about the Six-Day War. Just think what I could've done if I wasn't talking to you."
Me: "It's too bad you didn't think up a cure for being smart ass."
Danny: "You better watch your mouth, grandpa."
Me: "Step off, you teenage punk, or I'm gonna start poppin' those zits with my fist."

After that, the tape recorder was knocked off the table and it took several minutes to resume the interview.

To be continued...

Point/Counterpoint

2007-09-06T10:57:00.000-07:00

Point: The Governor Needs to See This Cow Born with 2 Heads!
by Farmer Jeb Boyle

I don't know how they do things in other states, but here, when we come across an animal that's been born with an extra head, weird horn, or bulbous growth, we send it straight to the governor's office. That kinda thing is important to state business and that's all there is to it. Instead, what am I suppose do with a 2 headed cow, anyway? It's funny for about five minutes but after that it starts making me feel nervous.

Counterpoint: Stop Sending Me Your Farm Animals with Birth Defects
by Governor Laurence O'Grady

As your governor, I work day and night to represent the interests of the people of this great state. However, this responsibility doesn't extend to me having to personally observe every poor calf, hog, and sheep dog that's born with an unusual birth defect. I'll admit, the novelty was amusing at first, but now the governor's mansion is overrun with these things. I'm begging you, please stop. For the love of God, please stop.

A Letter from the Editor

2007-09-05T15:24:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers:

I am sure you have been wondering why the website has not been updated for several months. Well, in the interest of full disclosure, I have decided to tell you all the truth... no matter how personally disturbing it may be.

Shortly after our last posting (in March), I accepted an offer from a nearby technical college to supervise a group of students on a study abroad trip to a country in Latin America (which, due to the ongoing criminal investigation, I cannot name). During the trip, our tour bus was attacked by a group of Marxist rebels and I was subsequently taken prisoner.

The details of my imprisonment are not important. All you really need to know is that it was awful experience and that they did horrible, vicious things to parts of my body that I am too ashamed to ever tell anyone about. Needless to say, after several months, I was able to make a daring escape from my captors and now I have returned to the U.S. and may resume updating my site once again.

Now, some of you may ask, if you were being held prisoner for several months by Latin American rebels, why does it look like you've had thousands upon thousands of dollars of plastic surgery? Why is your nose smoother? Your jaw stronger? Your skin now a permanent golden tan? These are all appropriate questions and people have the right to appropriate answers.

Scholars will tell you that plastic and cosmetic surgery are common forms of interrogation and coercion used by Latin American Marxist rebels. Prisoners are knocked unconscious and wake up to find their appearances significantly changed. It is extremely psychologically damaging for the victim and a quick way for a captor to break down the will of his captive. Indeed, this is what happened to me. I'm just lucky that the plastic surgeons of Latin America are such skilled and talented professionals.

Now that I've cleared all that up, it's time to get back to business. I've got a website to run here, people, and I'm not going to let my new beautiful face get in the way of that. Excelsior!

Best regards,

Your Editor

The High School Principal's Diary

2007-09-05T15:16:00.000-07:00

February 1

I have been in this business for fifteen years and I haven’t had a day this bad in ten. Today, almost a dozen kids were sent up to the office. Sophomore Danny O’Bannon was sent up from Ms. Eppson’s class for using the “f-word”. I asked him why he kept using this kind of language in class and he just looked at me with a blank stare on his face, lifted up his right leg, and passed gas right in my office! Is this what the youth of today has come to?

February 5

Another dismal day. More kids sent to the office, more teachers complaining about budget cuts. After lunch I told the receptionist to hold all my calls and tell everyone I was busy in a meeting. I spent the rest of the day in my office with the door shut playing online poker. I lost $300.

February 10

I drank two Bloody Marys before work this morning. Lucy the school secretary gave me a dirty look when I first came in. I think she might have smelled them on my breath. Maybe she should try running a school filled with 2,000 sociopathic lunatics sometime and see how judgmental she is then.

February 13

I told Mr. Gregory, the lunch room supervisor, that we will not be serving bread pudding to the students for the foreseeable future. Someone poured several containers of it on the hood of my car today.

February 20

Something amazing happened today. We had a new teacher start today. Her name is Veronica De Carlo. I have never seen anyone like her before. She is like an angel. And she’s exotic, like some kind of wild orchid growing in the middle of horrible swamp. She came up to me, smiled, held out her hand and said “Hello. I’m Ms. De Carlo. I’m the new algebra teacher.” I don’t remember what I said but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since.

February 22

I have been going to the cafeteria 20 minutes early everyday so that I could make sure to walk in at the same time as Ms. De Carlo and sit next to her at the faculty table. Besides being beautiful, she is thoughtful. I told her about my years in the army and I think she was very impressed.

February 24

I heard Mrs. Smith, the music teacher, mention that Ms. De Carlo had a date this weekend with a lawyer at a law firm downtown. I’m so depressed. Why would I think that a young, beautiful, intelligent woman like Ms. De Carlo would be interested in someone like me? I’m old and out of shape. The only think that I might reasonably have going for me is my great lion’s mane of hair (and even that is starting to thin out). I have to just sit back and realize that me and Ms. De Carlo is only a dream. A dream that will never ever come true.

March 1

The dream came true. It was 5pm. I went to the teacher’s lounge to fix a bag of popcorn and Ms. De Carlo was there. She had been crying. I asked what was wrong and she said that the lawyer she had been dating had broken up with her. I told her that he was a fool and that any man with half a brain should be able to clearly see how special she is. She looked up at me with tears streaming down her cheeks. Our eyes held each other for what seemed like hours. After that, everything is a blur. We were caught up in a maelstrom of fiery passion and torn clothing. It was amazing. I’ve never done anything like that in my entire life. Someone could have walked in at any minute. Nothing will ever be the same again.

March 3

Things are going great. Ms. De Carlo and I have been spending every possible moment together. Today, after school, we snuck out to the baseball field and held each other under the bleaches. Bliss! I just wish she didn’t have to spend some much time in class.

March 6

Ms. De Carlo has been acting distant. I left left her 3 voicemails last night and sent her 5 interoffice memos today but no response. She says she’s been busy but she seems distracted. I think it’s her classes. The students can wreck havoc on your nerves. Speaking of which, I saw Danny O’Bannon loitering outside of the gymnasium this morning. I later found a wad of chewing gum stuck in the keyhole of my Chevy. Coincidence?

March 10

I don’t know what to do. Ms. De Carlo canceled our standing afternoon smooch session today. I think she might be seeing someone else. I saw her talking to Mr. Burnside, the biology teacher. He was telling her all about his new wheelchair. It made me sick.

March 12

I have come up with a plan to capture Ms. DeCarlo’s heart fog good. I’m going to take the $2,000 earmarked for the 4H Club’s spring field trip to Bartholomew Island and use it to enter PokerBazooka.com’s No Limit Texas Hold ‘Em Tournament. After I win the tournament, I will return the $2,000 to the school safe and I will use the rest of the prize money to elope with Ms. De Carlo and move to Acapulco. I’m sure that this will convince Ms. De Carlo that I’m serious about our relationship.

March 17

I’m not sure what to do. I got so excited that I told Ms. DeCarlo about my plan and she didn’t respond like I’d hoped. She said that taking the money for the 4H trip was unethical. I tried to explain that I am an expert gambler but she didn’t listen and ran off. Do I continue with the plan and hope that her heart will be mine once I show her our business class tickets to Mexico? Or do I give up my plan and let our love continue to erode away? I don’t know… I just don’t know…

March 19

The deal is done. The plan is on. I transferred the 4H money to my poker account. The tournament starts in 1 hour. By dawn, I should have $75,000 and the heart of the only woman I ever loved (including my ex-wife).

March 20

I don’t know what to do! I lost out in the first round of the tournament and I don’t have enough cash in my checking account to replace the 4H money. I called in sick to work today but Lucy the secretary has already called me at home twice. The 4H coordinator has noticed their account is empty. I’m the only person who has access to that account so they’re going to have a lot of questions for me. And Ms. DeCarlo is not returning my calls or emails or text messages. I’m going out of my mind!

March 21

I waited outside Ms. DeCarlo’s apartment for 4 hours this afternoon. She did not come out but you want to know who did? That LAWYER from the fancy law firm downtown. I was devastated. Why would she do this? What does he have that I don’t? I’m in charge of a whole school. He’s just some paper pusher barely out of grad school. He’s never done anything in his life. I have melded young minds for my whole career. She, of all people, should be able to see that for its value!

March 23

I drove to school today but there were some police officers waiting in the front office so I ducked out the back. I can’t go to prison. I would never make it.

March 25

This is my last journal entry before I leave town. I’m broke – both in the bank and in the heart. The school board and the police department are looking for me. How did this ever happen? I just wanted to give love a chance. I’m taking the last bus out of town this evening and I never want to come back to this town or hear the name Ms. DeCarlo ever again. I just want to move on and start again. I had hoped to drive my Buick out of town but when I came out of my motel room this morning, I saw someone had slashed the tires. I don’t know how it could be possible but I thought I saw Danny O’Bannon standing outside the lobby last night. I hate that kid. I knew I should have gone to law school.