Fireland

Don’t do this to me first thing in the morning, internet....

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 10:56:00 -0700

Don’t do this to me first thing in the morning, internet. Now excuse me while I stare dead-eyed at my Metamucil and absently stroke my long white beard.

The New Pornographers / The Bleeding Heart Show

Thu, 05 Nov 2009 20:25:00 -0700

The New Pornographers / The Bleeding Heart Show

yourmonkeycalled: In case you need to run from the airport to...

Thu, 05 Nov 2009 19:47:01 -0700

yourmonkeycalled:

In case you need to run from the airport to my new house, here’s the route.

It’s 3 miles. Should take you about half an hour if you’re in decent shape or being chased by TSA dogs.

This is almost exactly where a smooth, pale youngster by the name of Me came of age. I was in Burlingame, Calif., home of the Burlingame Museum of Pez Memorabilia and the IT’S IT factory, from fifth thru twelfth grade.

You see the little coastline near the Hyatt? That’s where I first touched a boob for real. We were supposed to go over to someone’s house and watch … I dunno, Evil Dead 2, probably? But then we got into the whole boob thing and ran late.

Folks, there were no cellphones in those days. Those were the days when you’d be in the middle of a boob session and say, you know what, let’s ditch that party and just keep doing this. And later you could blame it on something stupid like traffic because there were no cellphones and nobody ever really knew where you were.

True Story

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 22:42:00 -0700

We were playing spin the bottle in the parking lot and it pointed at Robby. When the girl was all ew he got mad and threw the bottle and it hit this guy coming out of the drug store. The guy dropped his plastic bag and out tumbled two boxes of Tampax and a bunch of Snickerses.

As usual Robby was instantly apologetic but the guy didn’t even get mad, he just sighed and picked up the bottle and went to his car, leaving everything else on the ground. Once he was gone we split the tampons and candy bars with the girls and someone said well now what.

I said we could keep playing but the bottle would only exist in our minds. The girls said Josh are you retarded or what which was kind of a catch phrase by that point. I pantomimed spinning the bottle and then eagerly watched the empty space between us. Look at him and all his acting, the girls said. Oh my god remember when he was in the school play.

Uh oh! I said. The bottle’s stopping … on … you! and I pointed at Robby. He looked at me, aghast, said: So your pretend bottle is pointing at me. You want to kiss me on the lips. And I said: No, but sometimes it points at a dude. Sometimes that happens and you have to deal with it. I want it to be realistic.

And everyone got up and wandered back to the bus stop and talked about something else. I cried out: I just want you to believe in my imaginary creation! And then twenty years later I made up this story and put it on the internet.

Photo

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 19:37:59 -0700

U.S.S. WHISKERPANTS I AM TRYING TO NANOWRIMO GODDAMMIT

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 21:23:05 -0700

U.S.S. WHISKERPANTS I AM TRYING TO NANOWRIMO GODDAMMIT

Um how exactly am I supposed to NaNoWriMo over here when Wikipedia won’t tell me what they...

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 20:53:48 -0700

Um how exactly am I supposed to NaNoWriMo over here when Wikipedia won’t tell me what they called menopause in olden times?

Aphex Twin / Come to Daddy

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 10:35:18 -0600

Aphex Twin / Come to Daddy

:(

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 22:00:57 -0600

The bar I frequent has a nice selection of greeting cards but I didn’t see one that said exactly what I needed to say. I flip through the blank ones but god, you know? Babies wearing fedoras and tinted lovers kissing in Paris or wherever? I can’t work with that.

So I stumble home and raid the wife’s scrapbooking nook. (“Our counselor says it’s critical that I have a place of my own, even if it’s crammed next to the Miata in the garage.”) There’s construction paper, Elmer’s, dull-edged scissors, the works. I put together something really cute with a penguin and a tree on the front, and inside I write Sorry your wife died while giving birth to my daughter and then a frowny face.

But I chicken out at the last minute and sign my brother’s name. My life is way too crazy to deal with this shit right now.

Photo

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 11:05:10 -0600

Do You Like Gifts

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 23:21:00 -0600

Because guess what there is a gift for you in the glovebox. Ha ha no it is not gloves! Your sense of humor is very refreshing, Maya. Eh? Maia? Ah yes. Maia, hearken: Most of the ladies I allow into the 240Z do not tell good jokes, Maia. Knock-knock, they say. Hello, who is this? I ask, delighted. They say they do not know, they forgot, and then they gaze out the window, at the world passing by.

But you, when you say knock-knock you know who is at the door. It is I, resplendent. My cape swoops around you, catching you like a thieve in a sticky net. There is no escape!

Open the glovebox. See what treasures it holds.

Yes, yes, maps. Yes, the tire pressure gauge. Is there not anything else? Didn’t I—I thought I put a little box with an anklet or some candy in there? No? Ah well. Does m’lady mayhaps want to see Saw VI? I think its terror may eject you out of your comfortable seat and into my expectant lap, no?

No. Very well. Next time, then, Mia. Maia. Whatever. Go, then. Flee! But know this: When the moon swells full and your womanhood cries out for massage, know that you have cast aside Heaven itself. By the by, canst thou direct me toward Venus Waterfallz or the nearest exotic emporium? Sir Miguel Longfellow here needs tending to, as you can plainly see.

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL i forget what this was for

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 21:12:23 -0600

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL i forget what this was for

YAY HOORAY AUTUMN OH GOD

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 19:37:54 -0600

YAY HOORAY AUTUMN OH GOD

I went on vacation for a week and took one photo. Also, I had...

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 09:51:00 -0600

I went on vacation for a week and took one photo.

Also, I had dinner with 1/3 of You Look Nice Today and 1/1 of Permenter and we came up with a book idea that will soon be published by Shitty Tumblrs With Book Deals: Griffin & Sabine & Predator: A Pretty Obvious Whodunit.

This is the song from a video game called CANABALT. I’ve...

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 21:44:55 -0600

This is the song from a video game called CANABALT. I’ve listened to it more than any other song in the past month.

Nature's Candy

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 17:31:39 -0600

My daughter says, “We need to talk.” I sit down and fold my arms and sigh.

She says: “Dad, you know how we got a bunch of peaches yesterday?” I say yeah I guess so, it’s not like I monitor the comings and goings of all the groceries (not true). She whispers: “OK well I ate three peaches.”

I start to get up, assuming this will go the way most of her stories go, i.e., a half-hour plotless stream-of-consciousness Woolf-esque yawnfest. She sits me back down and says: “I mean three whole peaches. Every part.”

My eyes widen in horror. You ate three peach pits, didn’t you! She nods and here come the waterworks. “What’s going to happen to me, Daddy?” she cries.

I tear away from her sweaty little grip. I ask the question.

“Yes!” she shrieks. “Yes I did just drink some water!”

I can’t bear to look at her as I tell her it’s too late, she already watered the seeds. Even now the baby trees are unfurling their tiny leaves in her belly. An hour from now, two at the most, they will burst forth in the grossest, goriest way imaginable. But at least she can die knowing that she’ll be providing her family with fresh, delicious peaches for years to come—absolutely free of charge.

“There must be something we can do!” she wails.

“All we can do is wait,” I say, picking Entertainment Weekly back up and flipping through the pages, pausing for a moment to examine a photograph of Rashida Jones.

Rejected Twitter Post No. Yuk

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 22:16:50 -0600

It’s always a sad day when the treehouse finally falls apart, collapsing to the ground in a pile of splintered wood and twisted bodies.

P.S. Shout out to my old buddy Darren whose mom, like mine, spelled yuck “yuk” and who, like me, found that extremely hilarious every time.

Tie Your Own Rope

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 20:19:16 -0600

I was in the Mafia for like a week. Easily the worst job ever, you guys.

They’re all: Hey go shoot this guy in the head three times and once in the heart. FYI I don’t even know this person.

So he’s crying and praying, etc. He seemed like an OK guy aside from the hysterics. On the drive out to the swamp he talked about how much he liked The Offspring. And I’m not saying The Offspring is my all-time favorite or anything but they have some decent songs and this guy liked them, had fond memories of listening to them in his LeSabre, a nice Catholic girl at his side, and they’re driving to Reno for a romantic getaway or I dunno, I’m just making up a back story here.

Anyway I get back to the bosses and they’re like: Is it done? And I go: Is what done. Playing dumb but I mean c’mon, always with the What’d the guy say about the thing. And I’m like: The English language is rich with nouns and synonyms, help me out. And they say: Did you or did you not resolve the situation with Mr. Green Day. And I’m just horrified. It was The Offspring! He was a living, breathing man with a real love for The Offspring!

So I storm out pretty dramatically and head back to the temp agency and that’s how I got the job at Kinko’s. Now I’m assistant manager and my hands barely even shake anymore.

Birdhouse Stank Pile No. 008

Fri, 09 Oct 2009 18:17:00 -0600

Birdhouse Stank Pile No. 008

Photo

Fri, 09 Oct 2009 16:12:16 -0600