Monthly Archives: June 2012

Not So Real

They look so real.

They’re not real, baby.

They look real.

They’re fake, baby.

I don’t believe you.

You don’t have to, but I think they’re fake.

Look how big they are.

I know, baby, they’re huge.

I didn’t know they could get that big.

They sure do.

Don’t you wish mine were that big?

I love yours the way they are, baby. Don’t even worry about it.

Well, now I’m worried.

I said, don’t worry about it.

You seem so excited to see them that big, and your telling me not to worry always makes me worry more.

I love yours more than anybody’s.

I can make mine larger.

Don’t, baby. I love them the way they are: natural.

But don’t you want to win?

I don’t even care about winning, baby.

Well, I do.

I know you do, but I don’t. All I care about is you, our home, our garden and keeping everything natural, the way God intended.

This place is crazy. I miss the farm already.

Let’s go now so we can beat traffic.


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You got the job!

Good. I’ve been anticipating this assignment.

Congratulations. Let’s get rolling.

Where do we begin?

We’re going into two neighborhoods and working each block, grid-style.

So what should I say when we go door to door?

When we hit our first door, follow my lead.

What do I say?

Leave the talking to me.

What if they look at me or ask me questions?

You can answer, or I can answer for you.

Ok. I’m a little nervous.

So was I, my first time.

This isn’t my first time.

I know. It’s your first time with me.

Well, I know what I’m doing.

Just follow my lead. I do things a little differently around this neighborhood.

What do you do differently?

I’m more open minded than I seem in person.

You seem plenty open minded.

Well, I am very open minded.

How do you mean?

You know what I mean.

Aren’t you a believer?

Of course I am. My beliefs have nothing to do with anything.

You’re really out there.

I know. So are you.

I know.

Ok. Let’s roll.

What kind of car do we get?

We get bikes.

Road bikes?

Mountain bikes.


We don’t need suspension.

We don’t really need bikes either.

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Don’t Do It

Don’t do it.

Why not?

You shouldn’t do it.

You should do it.

Do I look like I can do it?

I don’t know. Should I just do it?

No. Don’t do it.

Well, then do it for me.

Alright, give it to me. Stand back.

Wait, I want to do it.

I said, no. I’m doing it now.

How come you get to do it now?

Get off me. Let me do it already.

You’re too old.

You’re too young. Now stand back.

Don’t say that.

What? You’re too young. I’m doing it for you.

I’m not young.

Yes you are!

Dad, I really want to do it!

Stop it. Stop calling me Dad.


It makes me feel old.

You are old.

I’m not that old.

You’re too old to fire a weapon, Dad.

You’re too young to fire a weapon.

Well I’ll be able to fire one in a few years. You’ll never be able to fire one ever again.

Hey, that hurts.

Ok, give me the bazooka, and I’ll tell you I was joking about your being old.

Fine. Here.

I just wanted to fire it first. You’re still old. Watch this:

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Your Majesty

This way, please.

Pardon me?

Come with me, please, your Majesty.

Come with you where?

Please, your Majesty, this is difficult for me.

Where are you taking me?

This way, please. We need to discuss an important issue.

I do not understand, your Excellency.

Oh, your Majesty, I’m afraid I am not worthy of such a title.

But I thought—

The headdress is just a cultural symbol.

Not titular.

We all wear them.

Right. But I’m afraid I still do not understand what you want, sir.

To talk.

About what?

Look, it’s not about the monarchy or money.

What then?

It’s an important issue.

Where shall we talk?

This way, please.

I’m afraid I cannot abandon Phillip over there.


My escort, Phillip.

Oh, he’ll understand.

I’m afraid I can’t—

He’ll be fine. Act natural. Let’s go.

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Walk Please

Walk please.


Trot please.

Walk please.


And walk please.


Trot please.

And walk

And reverse.

Walk please.

Canter please.


And trot please.

Walk please.


And line up!

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Win Mad Stuff

I win mad stuff. I spent the last ten years of my life training, and now I win mad stuff in competitions and shows.


I win mad people’s approval. My gf approves of my life choices and loves to watch me win. Mad people clap hard for me after every performance. It’s nice.

I win mad trophies and mad money. Last month I won $150 in the final competition of the spring season. That was my biggest win of the year. I won a Benjamin and a Ulysses together in one single show.

C.R.E.A.M. get the money

I used to have a trainer, but she left me. I can’t afford her anymore. I was kind of expecting her to stay on through the financially rough patches, but you can’t force someone to have faith in your talent and/or future. Whatever. Now I win mad stuff, and I don’t have to pay her commission. She’s probably super jealous about my mad winnings and my gf. The money I used to spend on her, I now get to spend on my gf.

5th Avenue

Flush with prize cash after last month’s victory, I took my gf shopping on 5th Avenue. We walked all the way down 5th past all the fancy stores. I bought her a hot dog and a diet coke and a huge, glossy DVD. She was mad appreciative. She deserves the best.

My gift to you, baby girl

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She has ADD

She’s just naughty.

She can’t stand still.

She just wants to eat.

Well I took her over there to eat and she pushed me over.

What happened?

She bucked me like “this”

Bucking is something else.

Well she pushed me over.

You can’t let her push you around.

What am I supposed to do?

You’re letting her think she can push you around.

How do I make her think I’m not a pushover?

Show her you’re the boss and don’t be such a pushover.

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Two grey-haired, balding, Italian New Jerseyan guys want to teach you how to do a “choke” in Jujitsu. The shorter, less athletic one of them gets down on all fours. When the taller, stronger guy’s opponent is down on all fours from the previous choke whereby the bigger, stronger guy has subdued his opponent to his hands and knees, he should still have the choke grip high up on his opponent’s neck, and now in this new position, brings his leg over the his opponent’s back to control his opponent and the taller, stronger guy needs to stay down, hugging his opponent with his body. With his opponent’s head down, he slaps the spot on his opponent’s thigh, multiple times, demonstrating where he is going to grab. He grabs and rolls his opponent onto him, thrusting his legs around his opponent until he can control his opponent on the right and the left and has completely subdued his opponent. Obviously, his opponent can’t move from this choking, lying-subduing, hold. Now the smaller, weaker guy, with the hard but soft face, should be tapping out, but he looks like he can’t really breathe. Or move at all. Suddenly the vanquisher realizes the vanquished has gone limp and started snoring. The big, strong guy slaps the limp guy on the chest. The limp guy doesn’t wake up. “Hey, Jim! Jim! Ohhh my Gawsh!”

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The office sat at the far end of the parking lot. I opened the door and sniffed the air, like a soldier going into battle. A bony, long-haired man older than fifty got up from a couch against the far wall and walked barefoot to the desk. The wall was covered by a bookshelf full of clown dolls, puppets, trinkets, toys, and dust. I could taste years of neglect on my tongue.

I turned and found the other wall covered with pictures, posters, masks, and other circus paraphernalia. It was an exhibit—someone’s untamed passion, passed down, left unkempt and forgotten in plain view. I let my eyes run wild around the room for some seconds, then noticed the man looked agitated. He conveyed a kind of exhaustion from sitting for too long, like DMV clerks and old people with dementia.

“So, you went to clown school or something?”

“No dude,” he said, sinking back in his chair. “I just found some shoes and they put me to work.”

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My therapist looked me in the eyes and told me I should go see a doctor. My doctor took one look and told me I should go see a dentist. My dentist looked in my mouth and told me I should be ashamed of myself. I felt ashamed and went for a walk by myself to discuss my issues.

The discussion went nowhere, so I decided to try therapy.

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