The Terror of Tiny Town
The Mysterious Monolith That Creates The Star-Child*
Rell (the cyclops in Krull — most chicks are like “wha?”)
Det. Somerset of the Downtown Unit; Tough But Fair; Some Personal Demons He’d Never Dream of Troubling You With
Todd Solondz’s Hap-penis
*No idea what’s going on at the end of 2001 but you get the idea.
I’m not putting this #followfriday on Twitter where it belongs because I have all of these embarrassing rules for myself that keep me from being a healthy member of the community, but I felt compelled to give a small shout out to Alana Post who is great for a wide range of reasons, but also because of Twitter posts like:
is there anything more innocent and beautiful than a child’s drawing of a blacula?*
i hate it when i come out of the bathroom with chocolate on my face
looking forward to an intimate evening of eye ointment, combing for lice, google image search “early skin cancer”, etc
ugh my cat just pooped and it smells SO HORRIBLE this is TERRORISM
if you didn’t want it then you should’ve put nuva ring on it
i’m 100% 50/50 that i can get down to my birth weight of 5lbs 3oz
too depressed to recycle
at the risk of sounding forward: is there a, uh, MRS. peanut?
if i woke up unable to read or write i think i’d just be like “eh fuck it”
*I always always think the phrase “a dracula” is funny and figured it could never be improved upon but I was wrong.
“Damn that television. What a bad picture.”
“Don’t get upset. It’s not a major disaster.”
“There’s nothing on tonight,” he said. “I don’t know what’s the matter.”
“Nothing’s ever on,” she said, “so I don’t know why you bother.”
We’ve heard this little scene. We’ve heard it many times. People fighting over little things and wasting precious time. They might be better off, I think — the way it seems to me — making up their own shows which might be better than TV.
Judy’s in the bedroom inventing situations. Bob is on the street today scouting out locations. They’ve enlisted all their family. They’ve enlisted all their friends. It helped save their relationship and made it work again.
Their show gets real high ratings. They think they have a hit. There might even be a spinoff but they’re not sure ‘bout that. If they ever watch TV again it’d be too soon for them. Bob never yells about the picture now. He’s having too much fun.
So think about this little scene. Apply it to your life. If your work isn’t what you love then something isn’t right.
Just think of Bob and Judy. They’re happy as can be. Inventing situations. Putting them on TV.
Wait so everyone liked that retarded trombone joke?
OK so from now on, just between us, when I say “rejected Twitter post” what I really mean is “Twitter post that I think is retarded but I’m going to run it past my extremely trusted Tumblr family to get their take on it and if they think it’s not retarded then I’m sending it to the Big Show because this is America and user testing is what made this nation semi-great.”
P.S. To all the retards out there, blame society and not me for my terrible use of the word “retarded” and just know that I have much love for y’all.
Nobody came to my trombone recital. I wish there was some way to express how I feel right now.
Boss: Hey who does that song “Heat of the Moment”?
Me: [instantly] Asia.
Coworker: [not hearing] Ummm…
Me: A. Sia. Asia.
Coworker: Maybe … Journey?
Me: [shoulders slump, breaks fourth wall by looking wearily into the TV camera he imagines is filming every second of his life, gives the nonexistent studio audience the old “whatcha gonna do” shrug that’s become his beloved trademark]