Aught eight: the year in words / Catamaran

By date:

1/1/08 Canteen
1/2/08 Saloon
1/3/08 Bureau
1/4/08 Abacus
1/7/08 Alpaca
1/8/08 Lynx
1/9/08 Nog
1/10/08 Lichen
1/11/08 Toll booth
1/14/08 Smock
1/15/08 Quill
1/16/08 Pipette
1/17/08 Box spring
1/18/08 Bog
1/21/08 Tube
1/22/08 Shank
1/23/08 Spectacles
1/24/08 Galoshes
1/25/08 Dumpling
1/28/08 Anemone
1/29/08 Chain mail
1/30/08 Alfalfa
1/31/08 Tryptophan
2/1/08 Narwhal
2/4/08 Buoy
2/5/08 Flume
2/6/08 Cummerbunds
2/7/08 Gravy
2/8/08 Talon
2/11/08 Dumbwaiter
2/12/08 Sickle
2/13/08 Rhubarb
2/14/08 Kaleidoscope
2/15/08 Houndstooth
2/18/08 Shuttlecock
2/19/08 Pew
2/20/08 Doilie
2/21/08 Bangs
2/22/08 Tapioca
2/25/08 Junction
2/26/08 Generator
2/27/08 Corridor
2/28/08 Mallard
2/29/08 Ladel
3/3/08 Seepshank
3/4/08 Manhole
3/5/08 Sky hook
3/6/08 Defibrillator
3/7/08 Laser
3/10/08 Canister
3/11/08 Bolo
3/12/08 Smelt
3/13/08 Cape
3/14/08 Ball bearings
3/17/08 Goggles
3/18/08 Monocle
3/19/08 Dinghy
3/20/08 Dollop
3/21/08 Organ
3/24/08 Balm
3/25/08 Stogie
3/26/08 Caboose
3/27/08 Blinders
3/28/08 Whammy bar
3/31/08 Marmot
4/1/08 Tire chains
4/2/08 Scrunchie
4/3/08 Wing nut
4/4/08 Whittler
4/7/08 Kielbasa
4/8/08 Tugboat
4/9/08 Melon rind
4/10/08 Burro
4/11/08 Pumpernickel
4/14/08 Thermos
4/15/08 Broth
4/16/08 Ascot
4/17/08 Buzzard
4/18/08 Bunt cake
4/21/08 Cat nip
4/22/08 Fly swatter
4/23/08 PJ
4/24/08 Bone Spur
4/25/08 Peninsula
4/28/08 Sidewinder
4/29/08 Handkerchief
4/30/08 Bacon wrap
5/1/08 Bird bath
5/2/08 Sea spray
5/5/08 Newt
5/6/08 Kindling
5/7/08 Snifter
5/8/08 Cyborg
5/9/08 Muzzle
5/12/08 Harpsicord
5/13/08 Pajamas
5/14/08 Rickshaw
5/15/08 Riptide
5/16/08 Parasol
5/19/08 Spork
5/20/08 Trampoline
5/21/08 Pilgrim
5/22/08 Melon baller
5/23/08 Pump
5/26/08 Asteroid
5/27/08 Cloak
5/28/08 Contraption
5/29/08 Boar
5/30/08 Mauve
6/2/08 Magpie
6/3/08 Quiver
6/4/08 Isoceles
6/5/08 Licorice whip
6/6/08 Wisk
6/9/08 Ejector seat
6/10/08 Chute
6/11/08 Thimble
6/12/08 Tadpole
6/13/08 Burglar
6/16/08 Spatula
6/17/08 Albatross
6/18/08 Thistle
6/19/08 Slobber
6/20/08 Porridge
6/23/08 Quicksand
6/24/08 Bassoon
6/25/08 Orb
6/26/08 Mahogany
6/27/08 Flapjacks
6/30/08 Parentheses
7/1/08 Filament
7/2/08 Cornucopia
7/3/08 Hot dish
7/4/08 Bidet
7/7/08 Dune buggy
7/8/08 Ghoul
7/9/08 Pontoon
7/10/08 Fricassee
7/11/08 Formaldehyde
7/14/08 Spittoon
7/15/08 Du rag
7/16/08 Peat
7/17/08 Toadstool
7/18/08 Mascarpone
7/21/08 Lumberjack
7/22/08 Bramble
7/23/08 Molotov cocktail
7/24/08 Bloomers
7/25/08 Banister
7/28/08 Boll weevil
7/29/08 Moonshine
7/30/08 Bulbs
7/31/08 Succotash
8/1/08 Nectar
8/4/08 Alabaster
8/5/08 Parallelogram
8/6/08 Fortress
8/7/08 Ampersand
8/8/08 Trinket
8/11/08 Hydrant
8/12/08 Spindle
8/13/08 Linoleum
8/14/08 Kettle
8/15/08 Tentacle
8/18/08 Hovercraft
8/19/08 Jackal
8/20/08 Wardrobe
8/21/08 Malamute
8/22/08 Musket
8/25/08 Leotard
8/26/08 Box elder bug
8/27/08 Carafe
8/28/08 Torpedo
8/29/08 Helmet
9/1/08 Snorkel
9/2/08 Jowls
9/3/08 Chassis
9/4/08 Coil
9/5/08 Moat
9/8/08 Clydesdale
9/9/08 Perm
9/10/08 Sheath
9/11/08 Spigot
9/12/08 Sleuth
9/15/08 Plank
9/16/08 Fiddle
9/17/08 Mallet
9/18/08 Davenport
9/19/08 Bagpipes
9/22/08 Warrior
9/23/08 Trident
9/24/08 Chinchilla
9/25/08 Trendril
9/26/08 Marsh
9/29/08 Vestibule
9/30/08 Goblet
10/1/08 Fuse
10/2/08 Punt
10/3/08 Cauldron
10/6/08 Double-u
10/7/08 Wand
10/8/08 Grouse
10/9/08 Crank
10/10/08 Spout
10/13/08 Specimen
10/14/08 Auger
10/15/08 Quartz
10/16/08 Nomad
10/17/08 Barb
10/20/08 Lynchpin
10/21/08 Kumquat
10/22/08 Punch
10/23/08 Millet
10/24/08 Stalk
10/27/08 Gasket
10/28/08 Mamba
10/29/08 Celophane
10/30/08 Gourd
10/31/08 Tumbler
11/3/08 Scepter
11/4/08 Podium
11/5/08 Marrow
11/6/08 Studebaker
11/7/08 Pinochle
11/10/08 Sill
11/11/08 Thorax
11/12/08 Polyp
11/13/08 Receptacle
11/14/08 Lariat
11/17/08 Dungeon
11/18/08 Fowl
11/19/08 Condominium
11/20/08 Lard
11/21/08 Cobbler
11/24/08 Chum
11/25/08 Knoll
11/26/08 Spool
11/27/08 Spit valve
11/28/08 Pelt
12/1/08 Styrofoam
12/2/08 Myrrh
12/3/08 Amulet
12/4/08 Radish
12/5/08 Barnacle
12/8/08 Acrobat
12/9/08 Spoiler
12/10/08 Vat
12/11/08 Slush
12/12/08 Placard
12/15/08 Hermit
12/16/08 Heifer
12/17/08 Vortex
12/18/08 Plough
12/19/08 Magenta
12/22/08 Rotunda
12/23/08 Loaf
12/24/08 Rudder
12/25/08 Wreath
12/26/08 Rutabaga
12/29/08 Macaroon
12/30/08 Satchel
12/31/08 Catamaran

Alphabetical Order:

Abacus
Acrobat
Alabaster
Albatross
Alfalfa
Alpaca
Ampersand
Amulet
Anemone
Ascot
Asteroid
Auger
Bacon wrap
Bagpipes
Ball bearings
Balm
Bangs
Banister
Barb
Barnacle
Bassoon
Bidet
Bird bath
Blinders
Bloomers
Boar
Bog
Boll weevil
Bolo
Bone spur
Box elder bug
Box spring
Bramble
Broth
Bulbs
Bunt cake
Buoy
Bureau
Burglar
Burro
Buzzard
Caboose
Canister
Canteen
Cape
Carafe
Cat nip
Catamaran
Cauldron
Celophane
Chain mail
Chassis
Chinchilla
Chum
Chute
Cloak
Clydesdale
Cobbler
Coil
Condominium
Contraption
Cornucopia
Corridor
Crank
Cummerbunds
Cyborg
Davenport
Defibrillator
Dinghy
Doilie
Dollop
Double-u
Du rag
Dumbwaiter
Dumpling
Dune buggy
Dungeon
Ejector seat
Fiddle
Filament
Flapjacks
Flume
Fly swatter
Formaldehyde
Fortress
Fowl
Fricassee
Fuse
Galoshes
Gasket
Generator
Ghoul
Goblet
Goggles
Gourd
Gravy
Grouse
Handkerchief
Harpsicord
Heifer
Helmet
Hermit
Hot dish
Houndstooth
Hovercraft
Hydrant
Isoceles
Jackal
Jowls
Junction
Kaleidoscope
Kettle
Kielbasa
Kindling
Knoll
Kumquat
Ladel
Lard
Lariat
Laser
Leotard
Lichen
Licorice whip
Linoleum
Loaf
Lumberjack
Lynchpin
Lynx
Macaroon
Magenta
Magpie
Mahogany
Malamute
Mallard
Mallet
Mamba
Manhole
Marmot
Marrow
Marsh
Mascarpone
Mauve
Melon baller
Melon rind
Millet
Moat
Molotov cocktail
Monocle
Moonshine
Musket
Muzzle
Myrrh
Narwhal
Nectar
Newt
Nog
Nomad
Orb
Organ
Pajamas
Parallelogram
Parasol
Parentheses
Peat
Pelt
Peninsula
Perm
Pew
Pilgrim
Pinochle
Pipette
PJ
Placard
Plank
Plough
Podium
Polyp
Pontoon
Porridge
Pump
Pumpernickel
Punch
Punt
Quartz
Quicksand
Quill
Quiver
Radish
Receptacle
Rhubarb
Rickshaw
Riptide
Rotunda
Rudder
Rutabaga
Saloon
Satchel
Scepter
Scrunchie
Sea spray
Shank
Sheath
Sheepshank
Shuttlecock
Sickle
Sidewinder
Sill
Sky hook
Sleuth
Slobber
Slush
Smelt
Smock
Snifter
Snorkel
Spatula
Specimen
Spectacles
Spigot
Spindle
Spit valve
Spittoon
Spoiler
Spool
Spork
Spout
Stalk
Stogie
Studebaker
Styrofoam
Succotash
Tadpole
Talon
Tapioca
Tentacle
Thermos
Thimble
Thistle
Thorax
Tire chains
Toadstool
Toll booth
Torpedo
Trampoline
Trendril
Trident
Trinket
Tryptophan
Tube
Tugboat
Tumbler
Vat
Vestibule
Vortex
Wand
Wardrobe
Warrior
Whammy bar
Whittler
Wing nut
Wisk
Wreath

By Category:
Animals:
Albatross
Alpaca
Anemone
Boar
Boll weevil
Box elder bug
Burro
Buzzard
Chinchilla
Clydesdale
Fowl
Grouse
Heifer
Jackal
Lynx
Magpie
Malamute
Mallard
Mamba
Marmot
Narwhal
Newt
Sidewinder
Smelt
Tadpole

Clothing / Accessories:
Ascot
Blinders
Bloomers
Bolo
Cape
Chain mail
Cloak
Cummerbunds
Du rag
Galoshes
Goggles
Handkerchief
Helmet
Lariat
Leotard
Monocle
Pajamas
Parasol
Pelt
Satchel
Scrunchie
Smock
Snorkel
Spectacles

Foods:
Alfalfa
Bacon wrap
Bunt cake
Cobbler
Cornucopia
Dumpling
Flapjacks
Fricassee
Gravy
Hot dish
Kielbasa
Lard
Licorice whip
Loaf
Macaroon
Mascarpone
Melon rind
Moonshine
Porridge
Pumpernickel
Radish
Rhubarb
Succotash
Tapioca

Parts / Pieces of something:
Ball bearings
Barb
Chute
Coil
Crank
Filament
Fuse
Gasket
Lynchpin
Rudder
Spigot
Spindle
Spit valve
Spoiler
Spout
Tentacle
Trinket
Tube
Wing nut

Tools / Gadgets:
Abacus
Auger
Chassis
Contraption
Defibrillator
Ejector seat
Fly swatter
Generator
Kaleidoscope
Mallet
Muzzle
Pump
Quill
Spool
Thimble
Tire chains

Furniture:
Banister
Bidet
Bird bath
Box spring
Bureau
Davenport
Dumbwaiter
Pew
Placard
Podium
Sill
Spittoon
Trampoline
Wardrobe

Containers:
Canister
Canteen
Carafe
Cauldron
Goblet
Kettle
Quiver
Receptacle
Sheath
Snifter
Thermos
Tumbler

People / Profession:
Acrobat
Burglar
Cyborg
Ghoul
Hermit
Lumberjack
Nomad
Pilgrim
PJ
Sleuth
Warrior
Whittler

Plants:
Barnacle
Bramble
Bulbs
Gourd
Kumquat
Lichen
Peat
Polyp
Rutabaga
Stalk
Thistle
Toadstool

Vehicular terms:
Caboose
Catamaran
Dinghy
Dune buggy
Flume
Hovercraft
Plough
Rickshaw
Studebaker
Tugboat

Structures:
Condominium
Corridor
Dungeon
Fortress
Junction
Rotunda
Saloon
Toll booth
Vestibule

Weaponry:
Laser
Molotov cocktail
Musket
Scepter
Shank
Sickle
Torpedo
Trident
Wand

Body parts:
Bangs
Bone spur
Jowls
Marrow
Perm
Talon
Thorax
Trendril

Liquids:
Broth
Nectar
Nog
Punch
Sea spray
Slobber
Slush

Shapes / Symbols:
Ampersand
Double-u
Houndstooth
Isoceles
Orb
Parallelogram
Parentheses

Bodies of land:
Bog
Knoll
Marsh
Moat
Peninsula
Quicksand

Instruments:
Bagpipes
Bassoon
Fiddle
Harpsicord
Organ
Whammy bar

Scientific terms:
Asteroid
Formaldehyde
Pipette
Specimen
Tryptophan
Vortex

Utensils:
Ladel
Melon baller
Spatula
Spork
Wisk

Game / Sport terms:
Pinochle
Punt
Shuttlecock
Sky hook

Minerals / Jewels:
Alabaster
Amulet
Myrrh
Quartz

Nautical terms:
Buoy
Pontoon
Riptide
Sheepshank

Animal foods:
Cat nip
Chum
Millet

Man-made materials:
Celophane
Linoleum
Styrofoam

Things regarding wood:
Kindling
Mahogany
Plank

Amounts:
Dollop
Vat

Colors:
Magenta
Mauve

Decorations:
Doilie
Wreath

Things on a street / sidewalk:
Hydrant
Manhole

Things you put in / on your face / mouth:
Balm
Stogie

Overheard portions of phone conversations / Satchel

• "Sure I still dance. I dance all the time but I don't do that kind of dance."

• "I'm about 2 blocks away. I'll call you back when I'm outside your place."

• "What do you want? They don't have that. What? They don't have that either. Ham what? Ham sandwich? . . I'll call you back."

• ". . . and don't forget Pete Maravich. I mean that guy was fucking ridiculous."

• "I said Dad, not Brad. May I please speak to Dad?"

• "No. . . Yes. . . Why? . . Flaxseed. Just flaxseed, Jerry."

• "Ohhhhhh her tits?!?!?! I thought you were talking about my tits."

• "The kind with the little fuzzy ball on top. You know what I mean? . . Fuck it just get him a gift card."

• ". . . the biggest cod I've ever scene."

• "Have you checked behind the radiator? Well if he's not there he's probably dead."

• "It went well I think. I told them I was a go-getter so. . . "

• "I'm tired. I said I'm tired. Tired. Like I need a nap tired. Nevermind. I said nevermind."

• "Is Gwen going to be there? Because if she is we'll need more paper towels."

• "Tell that son-of-a-bitch trash day is on Thursday, not Friday so the boxes can't just sit there."

• "Probably Tron."

The parking ticket / Macaroon

It’s too late.
I’ve already started writing the ticket.
There’s no turning back now.
I can’t.
Because if I stop writing mid-ticket the paper catches fire. It made of a special polymer fiber that’s activated by lack of pen pressure.
No, I’m kidding.
But seriously, if I stop writing mid-ticket a red light starts blinking in my supervisor’s fancy corner window office and I get a check mark on his big board. Three check marks on the big board and the Department of Transportation demotes me to manually spell-checking ‘Yield’ signs. Not fun.
No, you’re right. Kidding again. Nothing gets by you.
Nope.
No erasers.
This here is a ballpoint pen. A Bic ultra.
I didn’t realize they still made erasable pens. I’ll mention it at the next meeting.
No, you’re right. I won’t.
We actually don’t have meetings.
Again, you got me.
For a guy unable to properly decipher the language on a simple parking sign you’re pretty sharp.
Good question. Allow me to address.
Moving your car now, while addressing the problem and adequately correcting the infraction, does not change the fact that I’ve already started writing the ticket.
No I will not look you in the eye.
Why not? Because I’m in the process of applying ink on paper and I cannot stop.
We’ve discussed this.
It goes beyond simple protocol, you know.
Stopping writing mid-ticket is dangerous.
Sort of like stopping peeing mid-stream.
I could damage my urinal tract.
Anyways I’m finished now.
So now it’s entirely too late because the ticket is finished and ready to be presented.
So even if I were able to stop writing a ticket after I’ve started, which I can by the way, it’s too late now because the ticket is finished, carbon copy and all.
So here you go.
Stay in school.

Prepared statement / Rudder

Good evening.

It is with a heavy heart and a shamed soul that I stand before you tonight. I'm neither proud of what I've done nor do I find my actions acceptable by any stretch of the means. With that said I'd like to take this opportunity to attempt to set the record straight, even if by doing so I sacrifice the dignity of myself and my family.
Fact is, I will carry with me the events of December 23rd for the rest of my days. Of that much I'm certain. All I can do is hope that my actions in the coming days, months, and years can help restore some of the faith and confidence that my peers once bestowed.

I realize that being a member of AcmeCorp Publishing is a privilege - a privilege that carries with it certain expectations and responsibilities. I've failed to live up to those expectations and have not fallen through on the responsibilities and for that I am deeply sorry.
But with this apology comes a realization that no man is infallible. We all make mistakes. I say this not as an excuse, but as a simple reminder and an appeal for forgiveness.

I hold no ill will toward Mr. Litchkin. In fact, until earlier today I'd never met, nor spoken to him. The email in question was one personal in nature and not intended for the audience it reached. I spoke to Gregory a few hours ago and expressed my regret and apologized profusely. We've come to a mutual understanding and I feel confident we can move forward in our relationship as professional colleagues.

On a personal note I implore you to give my family the space and respect that they deserve. They've done nothing wrong. They did not accidentally hit the 'reply all' button on Gregory Litchkin's farewell email. They did not state that they'd be surprised if more than two people showed up at O'Hallahans for drinks to see him off and wish him good luck on his future endeavors. They did not fail to understand how the process of retracting an email works and, as a desperate alternative, hastily unplug the computer and attempt to toss it out the window.

I did.

I will not be taking any questions.

Thank you and good night.

Flathand / Wreath

Flathand

from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Flathand is a game invented in 1987 by the children of Rick and Kathy Zeroth. The game's primary purpose is to pass time during boring church services, most notably lengthy sermons about herds of sheep and damnation, but can be played in almost any situation or environment providing that it's mundane in nature and the participating members all have at least one hand. The conventional method of play requires at least 2 players but solo competitions are possible pitting right hand against left hand. The rules of the game are as follows:

1. Attempt to make your hand as flat as possible.

2. Once you believe your hand is perfectly flat, try to make it even flatter.

3. Show your flathand to your brother sitting to your right.

4. Have your brother attempt to make his hand even flatter than your hand.

5. If he cannot, congratulations! You've just won flathand! Go back to step #1. If he's successful, proceed to step #6.

6. Have your brother show his flathand to your sister sitting on your left.

7. Have your sister attempt to make her hand even flatter than your brother's hand.

8. If she cannot, congratulations! Your brother has just won flathand! Go back to step #1. If she's successful, proceed to step #9.

9. Attempt to make your hand even flatter than your sister's hand.

10. If you cannot, congratulations! Your sister has just won flathand! Go back to step #1. If you're successful, repeat step #3.

Things I should have said / Rutabaga

. . . to the guy at the bar who made a wisecrack about my hat.

• You're right. Instead of the hat I should be sporting that slicked back, gel soaked, "wet" look you got going on.
• Well your dog sure seemed to like it when I took him for a walk around the park last night. Am I right? [then high five someone standing nearby]
• It's not a hat so much as a mind blow buffer. I could take it off but. . . well, you know.
• You know, no one likes you much. I asked them.
• It's meant to be ironic, asshole. Don't you know what ironic means? Well, me neither. Let's get bombed.
• You son-of-a-bitch. No one talks shit about my cat. What's that? My hat? Oh, I thought you were talking about my cat. You're right this hat is ridiculous. Here, you take it.
• I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. What was that. [as I urinate on his pant leg]
• Don't you have push-ups to do and women to don't?
  
• What hat? [reach up to feel top of head] What the hell? This isn't my hat. Who's the wise guy? Where's Neil?
  
• You should see my other hat. . . it's at my apartment. . . I don't live too far from here. . . wanna check it out?

When I grow up / Loaf

Livin' each day like it's my four-thousand-and-fourteenth

Just biding my time, leap when the man says jump

but somewhere deep down and dark, way underneath

I still got ideas 'bout what I'm gonna be when I grow up

batta - - - chim - batta

[robot voice] When I grow up

chim - batta

[sound of car horn]

I'd like to be the first guy they pay to see every movie

all by myself in my film room in space

then with a bad-ass pipe and a powdered wig so groovy

I rank 'em all from 'Heat' to 'The Man Without a Face'

batta - - - chim - batta

[robot voice] When he grows up

chim - batta

[sound of phone ringing]

Maybe I'll be a famous explorer of the underwater

discover several new species of poisonous fish

but I'll keep 'em all to myself and invent the elixir

then invite the assholes for dinner and serve a deadly dish

batta - - - chim - batta

[robot voice] Scuba certified

chim - batta

[sound of glass breaking]

Pick up a new hobby of kickin' leather
Have a fat guy pass me a ball from between his legs
my team wears tight pants and helmets all together
only work on Sunday after bacon and eggs

batta - - - chim - batta

[robot voice] When he fake punts

chim - batta

[sound of screeching tires]

I'll be a man on the run with my head on a swivel
gun tucked under my pillow every night of the week
that way when my girl wakes me to check out of the hotel
I can pull a gun on her each time and watch her freak

batta - - - chim - batta

[robot voice] Free HBO

chim - batta

[sound of gun shot]

I'll be the guy that starts fads like wearing shirts backwards

all the hot shit freaks lookin' to me for the next hot shit trend

the I'll laugh my ass off at people's funerals

and the rest of the world will never cry again

batta - - - chim - batta

[robot voice] How'd you know Kevin?

chim - batta

[sound of subway door closing]

See no matter what I do today or how the years pass
there's no need to sweat about drowning in my cup
I keep my options open, stay a huddled of the mass
haven't figured out what I'll do the day I grow up

[sound of man falling down the stairs]

[robot voice] Robot voice
chim - batta

Gary, the guy with great long-term, below average medium-term, and terrible short-term memory / Rotunda

Hi there!

My name's Gary.

Who might you be?

Tim, of course.  I remember you now.  We work together.  My name is Gary.

I see.

We've been talking for quite some time then?

I'm sorry.  I seemed to have forgotten what we we're talking about.

Birthdays you say?  Wonderful!

On my 5th birthday the girl I had a crush on showed up to my birthday party with a black eye.  She said she had fallen off her bike but I suspect to this day that Jennifer Turner socked her in the face when fighting for my affection in the school parking lot two weeks prior.  Either way both girls gave me Storm Shadow action figures, my favorite G.I. Joe character.  Awkward to say the least.  Add to that the fact that my mother embarrassed me by making me a Cookie Monster birthday cake when I specifically asked for one with a ninja.  Needless to say neither girl ever spoke to me, or each other, ever again.

I'll never forget it.

Oh, I didn't realize.

Well happy birthday to you, Tom.

Right, Tim.  So sorry.

My birthday is October 7th.  Was born at 9:34 pm.  A product of a 11 and a half hour labor if memory serves me correctly.

When, may I ask, is your birthday?

Today?  Well happy birthday!

I must say, this place looks quite a bit like my co-worker's apartment.  Have you ever met Tim Snetting?

How embarrassing.  Of course, you're Tim.

Great music, by the way.

Young MC.  "Bust a Move", if I'm not mistaken.

"Your best friend Harry, has a bother Larry.  In five days from now he's gonna marry.  He's hoping you can make there if you can, cuz in the ceremony you'll be the best man.  You say 'neato', check your libido, and roll to the church in your new tuxedo."

Yep.  .  .  .  great fuckin' song.

In fact, it was this song that was playing the first time I got laid.  Her name was Susan Stalmyer and she was wearing a purple bra that I couldn't unlatch for the life of me.  She ended up keeping it on the whole time which was OK with me because she didn't have that big of breasts anyway.  'A' cups.  Anyway, long story long, I blew my load right after Young MC says "she thinks you're kinda cute so she winks back.  Now you're feelin' really fine because the girl is stacked."

Susan Stalmyer did not have that big of breasts, however. 

'A' cup.

Hello there!

My name's Gary.

I don't believe we've met?  No wait.  .  .  .  .  

Todd, right?

Shit.  Tim, of course.

So what line of work are you in, Tony?

Or is it Ted?

Hello there!

The Magna Carta was issued in 1215.

Roy G. Biv is a great way to remember the colors of the rainbow.

So where's the birthday boy?

Hello there!

My name is Gary.

Jury duty / Magenta

I recently and reluctantly performed my civic duty of offering my services to serve on a jury.

It’s mostly just a lot of waiting around.

When you get there they sit you down in this big room along with all the other people who aren’t smart enough to figure a way out of jury duty. For the first hour or so they attempt to weed out all the people who don’t have the intellectual capacity to serve on a jury by making announcements such as:

"Attention Jurors! Please pull out your jury summons. In the bottom right corner it should say 'jury summons'. I repeat, in the bottom right corner it should say 'jury summons'. If it does not, you do not have a jury summons. Please report to room 156 on the lower level."

About 35 people got up and left. People who evidently mistook their phone bill or recipe for banana nut bread for a jury summons.

Then came the next announcement.

"Attention Jurors! In the bottom left hand corner of your jury summons there should be a box labeled 'date of service'. I repeat, in the bottom left hand corner of your jury summons there should be a box labeled 'date of service'. That box should contain today’s date. 12/19/08. If it does not, please report to room 156 on the lower level."

At least another dozen people exited the room. Folks who must've thought the date was the dollar figure they stood to win by showing up, or perhaps they thought they were redeeming a lottery ticket. All I know is whoever is in charge of room 156 on the lower level has their hands full. I can just imagine. “O.K. people let’s try to keep a nice straight line here. Excuse me sir, please get up off the floor. We’re going to need you to put you’re pants back on. Mame, please don’t eat your jury summons.”

Anyway, after these people left you’d think you’d be left with a room full of marginally intelligent people. Not the case. And here’s how I know.

If you were to tell you that you have jury duty starting tomorrow, what would you bring?

I brought me a book. I brought my cell phone. I picked up a newspaper. These people brought nothing. When the actual waiting began, a quick scan of the room revealed a sea of faces all with the same blank facial expression, simply staring at the back of the head of the person sitting in front of them.

Saddest thing I’ve ever seen. C’mon people! Fuckin’ grab a magazine, take a nap, balance your checkbook, take a swing at somebody. Anything. Sure it’s jury duty – it sucks – but is there nothing to live for? The situation must spark some sort of emotion. Nothing. Just empty stares. Just waiting for their names to be called. . . or to die. Whichever happens first.

Late night thoughts of self introspection of a personal nature by me / Plough

What if 'me' really isn't me? What if the images and ideals in my head that I hold true to be what makes up myself is nothing but a concocted and distorted version of a totally different person? I walk all around town with the assumption that I appear a certain way to other people, that I take up a distinct amount of space that the rest of the universe most negotiate in its grand scheme, that I can maintain a degree of control over my characteristics and demeanor.

But what if that's not me? The only person that thinks that is me is myself and that's not saying a lot. Only one person out of 5 billion can vouch for me looking and acting like myself. The harsh reality is that I'm likely someone else - that I'm actually the person I hear when I hear my voice on a tape recording. He sorta sounds like me. Who is that guy? Why is he me? Why can't I just be me? It sure would make things easier. But I suppose that's the way it's supposed to be. Damned to live a life of uncertainty. Hoping that the real me is as cool and smart as the one I'm stuck with. Knowing deep down that he's probably more of a dip shit.

That would explain a lot.

The 'Great' Karldini manages to work his profession into eight unrelated conversations at a party / Vortex

"You look familiar. Do you hang out at Ozzie's coffee shop on 10th street? Hmmm. Do you work out at Gusto's? No? You weren't a contestant on some reality show were you? Just kidding. Ha Ha. Wait, I've got it. Have I ever sawed you in half?"

"I'm against the war but still support the troops, you know? I just think there's better ways to spend the country's money, especially considering the current economic situation. It reminds me of the 'ole indian double-back swip-swop. Here I'll show you. Can I get you to hold this rope? Great. Now close your eyes and spin around 12 times."

"Have you tried the spinach dip? Did you like it? Great because I brought it. Yep. Compliments of yours truly. It's good, right? I know. Want to know my secret? Dill. Sure, just a little bit. I grow it myself in a little herb garden I keep in my room next to my magic wand. That's right, I said magic wand."

"No I haven't see it. Is it worth checking out? John Malkovich is in it right? I heard it's getting mixed reviews. What's it about again? Uh huh. Wait did you say? Levitation? Oh great depression. I thought you said levitation. Wanna see me levitate?"

"The time? It's quarter after ten. No problem. What, this watch? Yeah it's one of a kind. I like it because it's got the elastic type band. Those are hard to find. It also automatically updates during daylight savings which is pretty slick. The guy I get my sneeze powder from has one like it and when I saw his I know I had to get one. . . Yep, get's me a pretty sweet deal on sneeze powder. . ."

"Sorry I'm late. I got held up at dinner. The Blue Note Tavern. It was good - a little on the pricey side - but good. Have you been there? You should check it out sometime. I recommend the monk fish. It will blow your mind." [he then snaps his fingers and ignites a small amount of flammable substance that he placed on his fingertips]

"So have you finished your christmas shopping? Ugh what a nightmare, right? I knocked most of mine off last weekend. All I got left is my nephew, my grandma, and my beautiful assistant Trisha."

"God dammit!! Spilled red wine all over my slacks here. Just had these dry cleaned too. Oh well, first party foul of the night I guess. My dry cleaner is going to start to wonder what's wrong with me. Ha Ha. Hmmm? Oh, I say that because just last week I brought these same pants in covered with fake blood and dove shit. I'm a magician you see."

Recent thought I had regarding Harvey's head / Heifer

Had he had his hat handy he'd have had half his hair hassle handled.

Band-Aid experiment / Hermit

Hypothesis: The simple illusion of injury or personal peril is inversely related to the level of disregard expressed by fellow classmates.

Materials Needed:

Band-Aid
Forehead
5th grade classroom

Experiment:

Step 1: Place Band-Aid on forehead.
Step 2: Go to school.

Results:
They varied. The day started strong. I entered the classroom and could immediately detect curious glances directly at my apparently wounded forehead. These initial glances, however, did not result in the specific inquiries regarding the nature of the wound and/or my current well-being that were expected. Anticipated questions/comments included but were not limited to:

"Oh my God, are you OK"?
"Did you spend anytime in the hospital?"
"Can I touch it?"
"I assume you were in a knife fight of some sort. Is your enemy still alive?"
"You obviously know how to handle yourself in a sticky situation. When we pick teams for this afternoon's dodgeball game be prepared to be selected first."
"I feel so sorry for you. Would you like to be more than friends?"
"You are cool."

As stated above, none of the questions posed above were asked. It is worth noting, however, that Jamie Digbar did in fact stare at the aforementioned forehead for several (3 - 4) seconds before making eye contact and quickly turning her attention back to Derrick Liebold.
Questions that were actually fielded included but were not limited to:

"What's wrong with your face?"
"Can I see your math homework?"
"Is that a girl's shirt?"

At noon additional measures were then taken to the effect of strategically removing the left half of the Band-Aid in an effort to create the appearance of not only a badly wounded classmate but also one in obvious need of immediate medical attention as the very dressing vital to protecting and healing the perceived laceration is in danger of falling off.
These measures were deemed largely unsuccessful as well. While the half hanging Band-Aid did spur an immediate increase in attention, the vast majority of that attention (as noted by Jonathan Schuler) was due to the fact that no visible wound was evident beneath the Band-Aid.
A gross miscalculation on my part to be sure.
The remainder of the day was spent in "dangle mode" until the second half of the Band-Aid's adhesive gave way and fell off my forehead in 6th period while standing at the chalkboard underlining verbs in front of the rest of the class. The loss of the bandage appeared to go unnoticed by my fellow students (although I must take into consideration the fact that they just didn't care).

Conclusion:
While the experiment failed in nature of its intention to gain a higher and more respected social standing in the 5th grade hierarchy, the results can be viewed as beneficial in terms of providing valuable insight for future fake injury experiments. Insights gained include:
- Consider the application of an ace bandage as opposed to the simple Band-Aid which, in retrospect, may have been viewed as negligible in terms of pain inflicted and/or degree of bodily harm.
- If an ace bandage cannot be utilized then perhaps a Band-Aid benign in color/print and/or other markings (i.e. one of the generic variety and not one covered with images of Garfield) should be used.
- Suggest further research of paper mache cast, cherry jello blood spit, and sandwich bag eye patch.

Poker sticks and strollers abound / Placard

Walking down the street while pushing a baby stroller and listening to my iPod I see what must be a city employee picking up trash off the sidewalk using a long poker type thing and a garbage can on wheels. He's in his mid to late 30's, slightly overweight, unshaven, balding, wearing a green one-piece jumpsuit.

I pass him, turn the corner, and see what appears to be the same guy about half way down the block. He's sporting the same gut, 3 day stubble, receding hair line, and green jumpsuit. I actually have to turn my head to verify that I'm not losing my mind and it's not the same dude. It's not, and then it occurs to me that most city employees on sidewalk trash duty probably look like these losers. I then wonder if he realizes this as well and feels ashamed that his lot in life can be so easily categorized by his attire, poker stick, and personal hygiene - that whatever special dreams he may have had when he was seven have all but been dashed as now he's nothing more than an indecipherable drone, completely unremarkable. All these thoughts are brewing in my head as I notice another man approaching me, listening to his iPod, pushing a stroller.

Touché.

The man who bitched, bitched, bitched / Slush

Charlie Hankback had quite the reputation as a world class whiner.

His whole life he'd fussed over sore feet, achy fingers, pains in his teeth, and throbbing hair follicles, to name just a few of his supposed ailments. Numerous trips to the doctor's office had yielded nothing in terms of explanation or diagnosis. All that came out of these visits was a first name basis relationship with the various doctors and nurses.

It was hard for Charlie to make friends. He was likable enough as far as first impressions were concerned, but sooner or later new acquaintances would stop returning his calls and stand him up for lunch citing his incessant complaining over his latest sprained nostril or brewing ulcer.

So Charlie dealt with his afflictions alone. Alone and depressed. He'd moan to his walls and complain to his television.

"My ass is killing me" he'd say.

"What the hell is going on with my elbow?"

"Tastes like someone put thumb tacks in my Frosted Flakes."

And on and on and on. Bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch.

One Tuesday, on his way to his weekly emergency room visit to have his neck re-examined, Charlie got in a terrible car accident. He was thrown through the windshield 30 feet feet from his car but not before his left leg was severed just below his already sore knee. Charlie still managed to pick himself off the pavement and hop back to the crash site, bitching the whole way.

"Boy my leg is really bothering me."
"And to top it off I can feel a mighty migraine coming on."

Once back at the accident scene, Charlie pulled a family of four from the burning wreckage right before both cars were launched into the air in a brilliant explosion.

"Ouch! That's going to do wonders for my hearing" he exclaimed over the detonation of the gas tanks.

Soon the paramedics showed up and took Charlie to the hospital.

"Looks like I really did it this time, Belinda" he said to the nurse while holding up his severed leg.

The doctors, amazed that he could lose a leg and still manage to hop to the rescue of four strangers, did some extensive tests on Charlie and found that his nerve endings were completely frayed from head to toe. His entire central nervous system was wired backwards. Every square inch of his body was in excruciating pain twenty-four hours a day. It had been that way for years.

They'd never seen anyone with such a high tolerance to misery. It was a wonder he wasn't in a permanent catatonic state. The mere fact that he could stay conscious was a testament to his freakishly high pain thresh hold.

Turns out Charlie Hankback wasn't so much a pathetic whiner as he was the biggest badass the world had ever seen.

Word quickly spread and from that day on Charlie had more friends than he knew what to do with. People would come from far and wide to get the autograph of the guy in a perpetual state of excruciating agony, to get their picture with the dude who always feels like he's being crucified, to sucker punch the man with the already broken body. Women loved him too. It didn't take Charlie long to find the love of his life who he quickly married, then cheated on numerous times but never got caught.

Yeah Charlie had it all. . . .

And while I'd like to tell you that Charlie's sudden fame and abundance of companionship took the pain away, and that he and his wife and his mistresses lived happily ever after, but that just wasn't the case. See to this day his knees still kill, his skin still itches, and it he winces every time he breathes but Charlie Hankback doesn't gripe about it as much as he used to. Because Charlie Hankbank's heart don't hurt no more.

zeroth life lesson: although very rare, sometimes perceived pussies are actually borderline badasses. also it possible to to be a badass physically but a total pussy emotionally. watch out for these guys.

The first word of the day / Vat

You're standing in the subway on your way to work when it occurs to you that you have yet to say a word today. You woke up, took a shower, got dressed, watched Sports Center, checked your email, ate breakfast, brushed your teeth, grabbed the paper, looked in the mirror, headed out the door, walked to the subway, swiped your metrocard, and managed to squeeze your way onto the crowded train without once utilizing your vocal cords.

You clear your throat but it isn't the same. You need to say something. The subway stops to let more people on and you seize the opportunity to hear your own voice.

"Pack it in people. Let's get comfortable."

There are a few chuckles before people resume to jockeying for optimum personal space but you feel good, like you can continue on with your day.

Just then the woman standing next to you says "You're not as smart or funny as you make yourself out to be and you know it."
The man standing behind you follows suit. "You're a terrible brother" he says.
Soon everyone on the train is looking at you and stating your faults, your failures, your secrets.
"You don't pay enough attention to your dog."
"You won't invest in a decent toothbrush and it's embarrassing."
"You're failure to choose a definitive hairstyle is a lame attempt to veil your insecurities as a father."
"You only payed $20 for that suit and it's obvious."
"You're an indecisive coward."

Feeling you need to defend yourself, but without the deep knowledge of those standing around you that your fellow commuters seem to posses, you try your best to retort.

"You're insult was poorly worded" you say to the kid kneeling on the door.
"You're below average height" you say to the woman on your left.
"Your hat is too purple."
"You look like you need a haircut."
"You're jacket does not look warm enough."
"Your shoe is not tied very tight."

But it's no use. You are defeated in every sense of the word. With tears welling in your eyes the subway comes to your stop and you fight your way off the train, being pelted with more insulting personal truths every step of the way. The doors close behind you and the voices finally stop. You drop to your knees to take a deep breath, regain your composure, and prepare to face the rest of your day.

zeroth life lesson: never speak unless spoken to.

The fat jogger song / Spoiler

Better make waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!

It's the overweight joooooooooggerrrrrrrrrr!

If you don't move you'll paaaaaaaaaaaaay!
It's the overweight joooooooooggerrrrrrrrrr!

Oh he'll huff and puff until he's red in the face;

He'll spit and drool all over the place;

He'll refuse to walk as if he's in some race;

It's the overweight jogger!

Oh here he cooooooooooooooomes!!
It's the overweight joooooooooggerrrrrrrrrr!
Is he chewing guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum?
It's the overweight joooooooooggerrrrrrrrrr!

He'll accidentally merge into the bike lane;

He'll grab his back to express his pain;

A man so fat running so fast must be insane;

It's the overweight jogger!

Holy fucking shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!!

It's the overweight joooooooooggerrrrrrrrrr!
Why doesn't he just quiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit?
It's the overweight joooooooooggerrrrrrrrrr!

He'll plow through a kid if he gets the chance;

Odds are 2 to 1 he'll crap his pants;

Yet he lumbers on as if in some trance;

It's the overweight jogger!

Will he pass ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut??
It's the overweight joooooooooggerrrrrrrrrr!
Watch him stagger and there's no douuuuuuuuubt!
It's the overweight joooooooooggerrrrrrrrrr!

Watch his belly jiggle and his ass bob;
He'll pull his shorts out his crack like some fat slob;
Stomping on that pavement like it's his job.
It's the overweight jogger!

Oh Christ not agaaaaaaaaaaaaaaain!!
It's the overweight joooooooooggerrrrrrrrrr!
Gotta remember to tell my friiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiends!
It's the overweight joooooooooggerrrrrrrrrr!

Those 8 pints of sweat won't make him thin;
Those rubbing thighs will need mycitracin;
Safe bet he won't wear that t-shirt again.
It's the overweight jogger!

He's the overweight jogger!!
Why does he bother?
It's the overweight jogger!
It's the overweight jogger!
Big Fat Jogger!
Jogger!

Adjusted eyes / Acrobat

The room he was led into was dark. He could see nothing. The sound of the door closing behind him lingered for several seconds in the otherwise dense silence. Soon his eyes began to adjust and he could start to make out the outlines of walls, rugs, and various pieces of furniture.
It wasn't until several seconds later that he noticed the nether demon waiting in the corner, completely still.

Thinkvoice vs. Futureman / Barnacle

Saul Thinkvoice walks into the elevator. “Walking into elevator”, he declares. A minute later he’s walking down the hallway to his office. “Gonna turn on my computer and check my email in a minute or so”, he states to no one in particular. Sitting at his desk Saul yells, “turning on computer!”

Ray Futureman hears Saul from the other side of the floor and teleports over to his desk using his interstellar being relocation device.

"Good morning Saul!"

"Jesus Christ!" Saul replies. "Why is it that this man constantly scares the shit out of me by suddenly appearing out of thin air in the middle my office using his cockamamie inventions that defy the very laws of physics that govern our universe?"

"I was just wondering if you were available to join me for some cyberburgers at sector 7 for lunch?"

"He then continues to use words and reference places that do not exist. I brought my own lunch today but thanks for asking."

"Very well then. I guess I'll be seeing you later today at the quantum-space budget meeting being held in the electronosphere cosmo-chamber."

Saul has an idea.

"I think I'll pretend that I'm late for a meeting or something just so I can get this whack-job out of my office and get on with my day. I'll simply stand up and grab this notebook and pen and tap my watch with my index finger. That should be enough in terms of non-verbal body language to convey the message that this conversation is over."

Saul then rises from his chair, grabs a notebook and pen, and proceeds to tap his index finger on the face of his watch as he makes his way to the door.

Ray, offended by the obvious slight, puts on his quasar helmet and fastens his thermal proton belt before raising his hands and beginning to spin at the speed of light. Soon the entire office building begins to levitate in a zero-gravity warp of time-space causing Saul to temporarily lose his balance and spill coffee on his new slacks.

When I feel like a new yorker / Radish

Every time I cross the street despite the don't walk sign when other people are waiting .

When I pretend not to be flustered when an inaudible announcement is made over the P.A. system of the subway.

When I call pizza 'pie' while ordering it over the phone.

When I argue with cab drivers.

Each time I explain the whole "selling candy to pay for basketball jerseys" scam.

When I pretended not to care that one time I saw Martha Plimpton on the subway.

Each time I order "one with everything" from the guy in the falafel cart.

When things are slow at work on Jewish holidays.

Every time I walk through my bedroom to get from my living room to my kitchen.

When I have to explain the giant inflatable rat on the sidewalk.

When I bitch about Ernie Anastos.

When I pretend not to get freaked out by the type of food they sell in buckets in Chinatown.

Each time I ignore the man wearing the garbage bag.

When I pay my kid's nanny in cash.

When the crazy man asks me if I've found Jesus and I reply to him with sincerity, "I think I just saw him a few blocks back that way."

The hiker bit / Amulet

Guy's hiking through some caverns and a boulder falls, lands on his arm, and he’s trapped there for 5 days. He’s pulling and tugging but his arm won’t budge. . . for 5 whole days. No sleep, no food, forced to drink his own pee when finally, completely out of options, he pulls out a pocket knife and cuts off his own arm to set himself free. He goes to look for help and comes across some other hikers who call the paramedics. They show up in a helicopter to fly the man to the hospital and then they double back to try to retrieve the arm.

The paramedics thought they could pull out the arm.

This had to piss off the hiker a little bit don’t you think? He probably didn’t even want to get on that helicopter. “Hold on just one minute. . . I’d like to see these guys try.”

I can just picture the guy, sitting off to the side watching, eating a cheeseburger, laughing to himself.

“I tried that. Tried that too. Yeah you’d think that’d work but it just makes it worse.”

Paramedics quit after 5 minutes – just exhausted. “Sorry sir but your arm’s really stuck in there.”

What’d they expect? That they’d see the arm stuck there and give it a quick tug?

“There. Just had to wiggle it a little. Here you go.”

Squirrel / Myrrh

hey what's that over there it could be something good to eat but then again it might be something waiting to hurt me I better go check it out before some other squirrel or creature beats me to it so here I go it looks to me like it's just a candy wrapper of some sort either a Twixt or Snickers or Milky Way or Three Musketeers if only I could read and wasn't color blind well I'll pick it up anyway and sniff it for a second before nervously fumbling with it using my front paws while standing on my hind legs as I continue to look around the park for something good to eat and be on the look out for other creatures looking to scare me or worse yet kill me and eat me HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [standing and staring, completely motionless] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . that's definitely a dog and a big one at that even though it looks like it's on a leash I'm not about to take any chances because it most definitely looked right at me and in its eyes I saw certain death and dismemberment well maybe not death and dismemberment but a look that portrayed a mild threat to say the least so off I go across the path then through this fence around this tree try to catch me now stupid dog up this different tree out across this branch I'd like to see you get up hear you dumb fucking dog I hop off this branch to another brand on a WHOLE DIFFERENT TREE and blow your mind as I'm so very fast and impossible to follow with your eyes let alone capture and kill and eat which reminds me I'm hungry I wonder if there's any food up in this tree I don't see anything at the moment but I also don't see any immediate threats to my safety such as a dog or a badger or another bigger squirrel or a falcon or a human person or a dog oh I already thought of that wait is that a piece of food over there no it's a piece of bark a stick an old tennis ball another candy wrapper an acorn PERFECT keep that a pile of leaves some grass a footprint that looks like a hole to explore a rock that looks like a piece of chicken cut it's not HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [standing and staring, completely motionless] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . that's definitely a dog and a big one at that even though it looks like it's on a leash I'm not about to take any chances because it most definitely looked right at me and in its eyes I saw certain death and dismemberment time to go and run faster than I've ever ran before and here I go wheeeeeeee!!!!

Excerpts from church bulletin / Styrofoam

Come, meet and welcome Cross of Christ's new members at the Fall New Member Dinner on Sunday, November 16th, right after the late service, Seasoned members are asked to bring a large salad. New members will be our guests. The menu includes Turkey buns, chips, jello blocks, and dessert. We are hoping YOU will be there!! "And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near." Hebrews 10:25

We have been experiencing frequent problems with our email server and are in the process of replacing it. For the time being please contact us by phone for any important matters. We apologize for any inconvenience. "Praise him with a blast of the ram’s horn; praise him with the lyre and harp! Praise him with a clash of cymbals; praise him with loud clanging cymbals." Psalms 150:3&5

Would you like to help pick up Panera Bread about once every six weeks? We are looking for a few people to pick up bread in Apple Valley about 9:00 p.m. Saturday evening, lock in your car overnight, and deliver to Cross of Christ by 8:00 a.m. on Sunday morning. "I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will live forever; and this bread, which I will offer so the world may live, is my flesh." John 6:51

This year there will be Advent suppers offered on each Wednesday evening Advent service from 5:30 - 6:30 p.m. The Youth will be providing the Advent suppers December 3, 10, & 17 with the proceeds going toward their youth camping trip the summer! Their menu includes a different hotdish each Wednesday with rolls, salad, applesauce, and dessert. They urge you to join them and take the rush out of the season and combine it with good fellowship with other members of the congregation! "Like newborn babies, you must crave pure spiritual milk so that you will grow into a full experience of salvation. Cry out for this nourishment." 1st Peter 2:2

Can we enhance our house of worship and the Lord's altar with a large number of pointsettia plants this festival season? You have the opportunity to help do so by signing up for a five-to-seven bloom plant. Watch for a sign up located on the bulletin board in the narthex. We ask that you leave the plant at church up though Christmas Day service and at that time pick it up to beautify your home. "Man born of woman is of few days and full of trouble. He springs up like a flower and withers away; like a fleeting shadow, he does not endure." Job 14:1-2

The Worship Committee is interested in knowing if there are any musicians, instrumentalists, pianists, vocalists, or handbell players who would like to help in our upcoming worship services especially over the holidays. If you are interested in using your gifts in this way, please sign up n the Outreach bulletin board in the hallway. Thanks in advance for being a blessing to our congregation!! "But from those who do nothing, even what little they have will be taken away. Now throw this useless servant into outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." Mathew 25:29-30

Cross of Christ will be forming a coed volleyball team to play in the Twin Cities church league this winter. If you are interested in being part of the team, please sign up on the Member Conservation bulletin board. Please sign up soon so we know how many teams we can enter. Games will begin in January and are usually played at St. Croix or West Lutheran gyms! "Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." Ephesians 6:17

Words I always find comfort in / Pelt

"It's OK."

"There's nothing I can do."

"Almost there."

"Nevermind."

"You should come home."

"Shit.  You're right."

"Go on ahead."

"Come on up."

"You're never going to believe this."

"Ready."

"It's over here."

"My bad."

"The receipt is in the bag."

"Right on."

"Let's talk about it tomorrow."

The man who touched everything / Spit valve

There once was a man who wanted to touch everything. He spent years traveling to every country to make sure he got his hands on the Roman Coliseum, a stone in the Nile river, shit of an Arctic penguin, the medicine cabinet of a Russian farmer, a piece of plankton from the Indian Ocean, the breast of a Canadian woman.  Everything.  It took him many years but he finally did it.  He was very proud.  It was in all the papers.

Meanwhile there was this other guy who had no such aspirations. He spent his life exchanging pleasantries with strangers in elevators, matching socks, making trips to the grocery store, watching Wife Swap, and drinking the free stuff from the coffee machine in the break room. One day he heard about the man who had touched everything and got very jealous. "What an exciting life" he thought. "Just to think I've spent the better part of my days waiting in line for movie tickets and trying different brands of fabric softener." But then he realized that the water he used to clean his dishes came from the East river which is connected to the Atlantic Ocean which is connected to the Mediterranean Sea which is connected to the Nile river. The canned tuna in his daily tuna fish sandwich ate the puffer fish which ate the sardine that ate the shrimp that eats the plankton in the Indian Ocean.  His wife was Canadian.  He'd touched everything too.

This made him feel better.

What both men never realized is that neither of them ever touched Karl Bretherford. Because Karl Bretherford never touched anything you see. He was an agoraphobe. Spent his days cooped up in his mother's condo taking pride in the fact that that the man who claimed to have touched everything never got his hands on him. Karl was one sick bastard. Neither man ever found out about old Karl Bretherford. Little did they know both their lives were a sham.  Go figure.

zeroth life lesson:  you can't waste time worrying about the karl bretherfords of the world.  worry about yourself why dontcha.

Worst poem ever written / Spool

One

by Claude M. Humdinger

A single leaf falls from a tree as a single mother sheds a single tear.

A single penny drops to the floor as the lonely man accepts his change for a single-serving bottle of peppermint schapps.

A single drop of rain falls from the sky as a single child drops a single mitten on the cold sidewalk.

A single bell is rung as the church service begins with the pews empty save for a single man who is sleeping.

A single rock falls from the cliff as a single lamb loses its footing and tumbles away from its mother to the rocky terrain below.

A single bullet rips through the chamber as Terry Single sees his girlfriend walk out of the dance club called Singles with another man.

The cable guy / Knoll

He woke up earlier then he had expected. To his relief he hadn't forgot what had happened just a handful of hours before. There was enough to deal with in the day at hand. The last thing he needed was to wake up thinking it was just another Monday, forgetting that his wife and kids were killed in a car accident the day before, forgetting that he had spent most of the night at the hospital drenched in dread, forgetting the doctor's face as he did his whole 'we did everything we could do' spiel, forgetting the cab ride home after getting word that his family was dead. Nope, luckily he remembered all that. As inexplicably painful as it was, at least it didn't have to sink in all over again after a couple hours of restless sleep. He took a walk around the apartment and managed to get angry at the empty pizza box, his wife's stocking cap, and the high chair. They had a lot of nerve just sitting around waiting to be dealt with. That he'd handle on another day. First there were phone calls to make. So many fucking phone calls. But before that there was some TV to watch. Just ten minutes of something mindless along the lines of MTV Cribs or an infomercial on a gardening tool would do the trick. It would act like a crude tourniquet for his unraveling life. That's all he needed. He turned on the TV and the fuzz reminded him that the cable was out. That he had forgot. But now it came back to him. The cable guy was coming today. Fuck. He briefly considered calling to reschedule but he knew that the next available appointment wouldn't be for another week at least. There's no way he'd make it through the next week sitting alone in this apartment surrounded by family pictures, dirty laundry, and children's story books without the television.

He put on a pot of coffee, sat down, and waited for the cable guy. He'd be there sometime between noon and four.

zeroth life lesson: the machine will never stop for you so learn to stop for the machine.

Double dad haiku / Chum

Dad roots for Chaska 

when watching girls basketball

to beat North St. Paul

He knows neither team

he won't explain his reasons

I think he's racist

Various pointless lies I've got going / Cobbler

I worked out yesterday. My pecs are sore.

My second cousin was the bassist in the band Candlebox.

I checked out that link you sent me. Hilarious!

I've seen the movie, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and I thought it was overrated.

I'm an excellent tennis player. Excellent.

I own an HD television.

I've once met Markie Post at a craps table in Vegas. She was nice.

I finished that crossword puzzle all by myself without using the internet.

When I was little I won a 1989 Honda Civic during the seventh inning stretch of a Twins game by tossing a paper airplane with my seat number written on it into the car's driver side window from the upper deck.

I didn't know you were saving that last brownie. Sorry.

I went to state in the high jump my senior year. Came in third.

See that ceiling fan? Installed it myself.

I told some guy off on the subway yesterday.

I've never ridden a horse.

I was a cob of corn for Halloween last year.

I'm sorry I didn't call you back sooner. Things have been crazy.

Things I pretend to understand but don't / Lard

-the correct answer when the cashier asks me debit or credit

-the deal with Singapore

-the infield fly rule

-how phone sex works

-why you can't just put out a forest fire using lots of water

-dry cleaning

-any card game that has trumps

-the electoral college

-when to use the term "come on like gangbusters"

-spanish

-the standby procedure for Delta Airlines

-where the V train goes

-rugby

-the terms and conditions

Zich Reroth / Condominium

Far far from here so far from here that one cannot get farther;

there's a boy like me who lives a life sorta like but not from one another.

See we both like math and both drink juice and both have dogs named Sam;

Expect his math is science, his juice is tea, and his dog don't sit but stands.

When I clap my hands he always stomps his feet, each time he snarls I sneer;
When I can find the words he always says them out loud but he's so far away I can't hear.

But what we both don't know is that our polar friend walks through life rough and incomplete;

hungry, forlorn, detached, and sad until the gods see fit we meet.

So one day we both started digging a hole straight down for shits and giggles;

After 18 years and 18 days we met each other in the middle.

I said 'hey you, you're me' he said 'I'm you, but me too' and we laughed until we cried;

and there we stayed in the center of the earth holding hands until we died.

Excerpt from unfinished movie script / Fowl

INT: BATHROOM OF A 7-11

Frank is staring at the bathroom mirror.  He's dressed in a skin-tight black turtleneck and wearing too much eyeliner.

FRANK

Insanity oozing through telephone cables, seeping into the ears of all those poor sane people, infecting them.  A plague of madness.  I fact, very few of us here are actually mentally ill.  I'm not saying you're not mentally ill.  For all I know you're as crazy as a loon.  But that's not why you're here.  You're here because of the economy.  

CUT TO: INT. BROOKLYN GYMNASIUM STAGE

An old Brooklyn elementary school gym has been "converted" into a performance artist's stage.  There are about 30 folding chairs neatly arranged which are occupied by exactly 3 people:  an old man with white hair sitting in the front row and a high school aged couple who are making out in the back row.  In the center of the stage is an eight-foot tall astronaut we saw Frank working on earlier.  It is surrounded by the smaller paper-maiche businessmen.  They are all covered in fake blood, donned in tinfoil and suits, and are strewn about like corpses.  Jenna, Jack's girlfriend, is on her knees positioning a corpse.  Jack is doing likewise.

JENNA

Have you tried his cellphone?

JACK

Like four times.

JENNA

What did Frank say?

JACK

Frank doesn't know yet.  He's not here.  He never shows up until right before show time.  

JENNA

Something must have come up.  I'm sure he'll be here in time.

JACK

Listen.  You're going to have to do it.

CUT TO: BATHROOM OF A 7-11

FRANK

(continuing his lecture to the mirror)

Well, I've managed to contact certain underlings, evil spirits, secretaries of secretaries, and assorted minions, who will contact my father.  When he learns I'm in this kind of place he'll have them transfer me to one of those classy joints where they treat you properly.  But still, sometimes I feel like BENDING THE FUCKING BARS BACK, RIPPING OFF THE GODDAMN WINDOW FRAMES, AND EATING THEM, YES EATING THEM, AND LEAPING, LEAPING!

CUT TO: INT. BROOKLYN GYMNASIUM STAGE

JENNA

But I don't -

JACK

(interrupting)

It's all written down right here in Frank's production notes.  Pretty straight forward, really.  The pulleys are in the balcony right up the stairs.

JENNA

(confused)

What's this word?  Models?

JACK

Modules.  It's highlighted.  It's one of your cues.  Piece of cake, right?

Jenna looks down at the production notes, still confused.  She shakes her head.

JACK

Look, I gotta set up.  The crowd's getting impatient already.  If we make them wait much longer we could have another Who at Riverfront on our hands.  Don't worry.  You'll do great.

Jack starts to leave but Jenna isn't moving.

JACK

(pointing up)

Right up the stairs, first row of the balcony.

CUT TO:  INT. BATHROOM AT A 7-11

FRANK

Lunar.  Lunar.  Lunar.  Lunar.  Lunar.  Lunar.  Luuuuunnnnnnaaaaaarrrrrr!

Frank bursts through the bathroom door and into the 7-11.  He runs though the candy aisle, knocking over a rack of snack-sized potato chips before slamming through the front door and and sprinting across the street, towards the gym.  We follow him as he runs down hallways decked with finger-paintings and construction paper cutouts, past rows of four-foot high lockers, and through the double-doors of the elementary school gymnasium.  He rushes to the stage, jumps up, and spins to face the audience with his arms flailing.

FRANK

(screaming)

Lunar!!!!!

The audience is silent.  The young couple in the back is unfazed and continue to make out.  The old man wakes up from his sleep.  

FRANK

Crater impacts are nothing but the backbeat of lunar percussionists.  Clouds of toxic gas fill the already punctured lungs of the Human Resources Manager.  The orbital probe now facilitates your dental coverage.

Jenna is on the balcony trying to decipher Frank's production notes, slightly and hesitantly tugging various ropes.

FRANK

A diet of volcanic ash and freeze-dried Neapolitan ice cream sparsely partitioned by an elaborate network of elliptical modules.  .  .  .  

FRANK

Elliptical modules.

Jenna realizes that "modules" is her cue and yanks on one of the ropes.  This raises the astronaut's arm momentarily before it snaps off and proceeds to dangle and swing slowly just beside its shoulder socket.

FRANK

(continuing)

A raised arm for reverence, for wrath, for repentance.  Where gravity repels and cynics attract!  Who will dare gaze upon this glorified version of the uncertainty principle?!

The old man coughs.

FRANK

(subdued)

Fuck it.

Frank walks off behind the stage to where Jack is still working the lights.

FRANK

Where the fuck is Hayden?