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.

Why?

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.

Who?

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.

Walk.

Trot please.

Walk please.

Canter.

And walk please.

Walk.

Trot please.

And walk

And reverse.

Walk please.

Canter please.

Gallop!

And trot please.

Walk please.

Walk.

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.

Winning

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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Pushover

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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Sleeper

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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Jobless

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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Issues

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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Who’s That Waiter

Afghan President, Hamid Karzai, will stepping down. Soon. In two years.

President Hamid Karzai a-pointing his successor

With the end in sight, the corruption-interested world, viz. the Karzai family, is taking a look back on the last decade wherein they have secretly amassed a massive fortune and are in the throes of fighting over who earned what and who embezzled how much. The assassination of Ahmed Wali Karzai, the President’s brother (or son or whatever) and ex-family-tribe leader, is looking rather fratricidal, and the newly appointed family-tribe leader, the brother who replaced him, Shah Wali Karzai, is looking rather abominable.

Ahmed Wali Karzai telling you to GTFO of his pillow room.

Ahmed Wali Karzai was undoubtedly a nefarious family-tribe-leader-brother-son. He was, however, an American citizen and has been since last millennium. Ahmed worked as a waiter in Chicago, then moved back to Afghanistan in 2001 to become one of the most powerful men in the country.

Try the lobster bisque, one of our chef’s finest creations.

It has been alleged that much of the political and business operations take place out of the public eye, which is rare these days. Ahmed Wali was suspected to have been involved in the Afghan opium trade. Doesn’t the opium trade account for, like, %80 of Afghanistan’s economy? How could he not, right?

Note: Controlled/Occupied by Transitional Government in ’04

Who else could possibly be profiting from the Afghan opium trade? Some war-profiteering mongrels, I guess. I have no idea. But hey, look who’s clapping.

Shah Wali, who replaced Ahmed Wali after his assassination as leader of the tribe-family-thing, viz. the Populzai tribe of the Kandahar region, is even more corrupt. He caused a rift in the family, when he embezzled $55 million from his brother Mahmoud Karzai’s corporation, AFCO, which oversees infrastructure and development in Afghanistan. Shah Wali said he did it to protect the people of Kandahar, because who knows what could happen or where the hell money could end up in Afghanistan. Essentially, he embezzled the millions to protect Afghans from corrupt individuals like himself.

The Karzais are all pointing fingers at each other, but the truth is, they’re all pointing at themselves.

If you’re Afghan and not a Karzai, good luck.

If you’re Afghan and a Karzai, watch your back.

Keeping it white-gloved

Also, if you become a waiter in the U.S., you might assume a life of wealth and power.

Not a Karzai

If you’re a Karzai—sorry.

Hamid Karzai will soon be stepping down from his post as President in two years, but I don’t understand why we’re even discussing that because two years isn’t soon.

Soon, this finger might be pointing at you, if you dare send your overcooked fish back to the kitchen.

“Like”

This time you’d better like it.

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Motivational Prosecutor

Patrick Fitzgerald, U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of Illinois, member of the Department of Justice Office of Special Counsels, former federal prosecutor, nemesis of corruption, Roman Catholic, Brooklynite, son of a doorman, husband, father, and practical joke lover, will be stepping down after eleven years as a federal prosecutor.

“Can you see me as a defense lawyer?”

Fitzgerald became infamous for his tenacity in targeting and tackling corrupt business moguls and politicians all across the political spectrum. He is considered the most a-political U.S. attorney ever to serve in Chicago, a city where everything is politically branded.

Fitzgerald’s most notable accomplishments were:

• Prosecuting and convicting Dick Cheney’s chief of staff, Scooter Libby, for perjury, after he leaked the covert identity of CIA operative, Valerie Plame.

SCOOTER! That man there! Off with his head!

• Investigating Rod Blagojevich’s attempt to sell Obama’s vacated U.S. Senate seat on Ebay,

Rod, you blowhard

which led to Blagojevich’s arrest and eventual conviction.

• Going after John Gambino of the Gambino crime family for drug trafficking.

“Are you sure it takes 5 minutes to cook my product!?!”

• Prosecuting terrorists Sheikh Omar Abdel Rahman and eleven others in the 1993 WTC basement garage bombing.

Seriously. This guy.

There were cases of bribery, extortion, mail fraud, scandals, rumors, and drugs. Fitzgerald went after bureaucrats, autocrats, politicrats, dixicrats and mallrats. His top secret investigations had code names such as Operation Crooked Code, Operation Site Down, Operation Jolly Roger, Operation Rapid Cheetah Kosovo, Operation Firestorm Thor Hammer, Operation Electric Koolaid Testfire, Operation Snow White and the Eleven Dwarfs, Operation Cool Hair Luke, Operation Tickle Me Enron, and Operation Monster Under the Bush. They’re not supposed to mean anything in particular.

This has nothing to do with anything

Having had such a productive career prosecuting terrorists, drug traffickers, and politicians, Fitzgerald is hanging up his lawyer boots and becoming a volunteer motivational speaker. He says he wants to pass on his tenacity to the next generation of federal prosecutors. Also, the next case he was assigned was going to be really boring, so—time to wrap it up.

Rod Blagojevich Jr. trying to buy his way into Harvard Law. On Craigslist. Ugh…

While still in office, he tried to adopt a cat, but was denied by the ASPCA due to his work habits. He found a friend who lent him a cat in the meantime.

You need to check yourself, boss. Yeah, you.

He also has two kids.

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