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?

Striking distance / Dungeon

It's late at night and the bad guy is on the run.  He streaks down the ocean side road in a Ford Mustang, tires screeching at every adjustment of the steering wheel.  Dust flies up along the dirt road then settles again.  There doesn't see to be anyone following.  He and his trunk full of stolen money is good as home free.

But wait.  It's our hero and his attractive partner.  They're on the chase!  The bad guy checks the rear view mirror and doesn't see them at first.  He thinks the coast is clear.  Quite the contrary.  Bouncing along that very coast is our hero in his government issued speed boat.

"Damn" says the bad guy.  It's that meddling Coast Guard Officer again.  He thought he left him and his attractive partner tied up in that burning house boat.  This guy just won't give up.  The bad guy steps on the gas.  He'll just have to outrun him.

Our hero realizes that the bad guy's out of his jurisdiction - being on land - but that doesn't change the fact that he has a score to settle.  That beautiful woman standing next to our hero has been done wrong.  The bad guy has to pay.  The bad guy will pay.

He pulls out a megaphone.  "Pull over!"  No response.  "This is the United States Coast Guard.  Pull over!"  The bad guy refuses to heed our hero's warning.  What threat is a boat to a car?

Our hero pulls out a revolver, fires at the speeding car, and misses wildly due to the choppy water.  He fires again.  Again.  Yet again.  His final shot shatters the bad guy's rear window but the car speeds on, fast approaching state lines and assured freedom.  His pursuer is out of bullets and seemingly out of options.

Our hero takes a moment to glance at the beautiful woman standing next to him.  They've been through a lot together.  They were not expecting to find each other.  They've recently had sex.

"Stop him!" she cries.

Our hero has an idea.  He pulls the flare gun from the boat's glove compartment.  There is only one flare.  He will have to make this count.  He carefully aims.  He fires.  The flare flies high into the air before falling through the broken window into the back seat of the bad guy' car.  The bad guy looks back.  The car explodes for some reason.

Alternatives to the letter F / Lariat

Ph

V

a click of the tongue and a clap of the hand

7

Eff

*_<>_*

the very presence of Fanny Ferrenfeffer

a tennis ball

the V train

small smudge of clay

D-

Torture faux paux / Receptacle

Ramford: I'm going to ask you one more time. Where are the Blackstone files?

[A bruised and beaten agent Ludlow stares at Ramford, saying nothing.]

Ramford: Your courage, while noble, only delays the inevitable, agent Ludlow. I was wondering how you felt about needles. Long, thick, needles slowly shoved into the back of your knees.

[Ludlow spits blood on the floor.]

Ramford: Defiant until the end. Respectable, but again, pointless.

[Ludlow screams as long, thick needles are slowly shoved into the back of his knees.]

Ramford: [whispering] That's it. That's it. Where are the Blackstone files? Where are they?

Ludlow: Try looking up your ass you sick bastard!

Ramford: I can see that simple foreplay isn't going to work with you. Perhaps it's time for the real fucking to begin.

[Ramford pulls off the blanket that was covering a nearby table, revealing a multitude of horrific torture options.]

Ramford: How would you like to be fucked, agent Ludlow? Electrified sponges? Bucket full of rabid leeches? Inversed pointy horn helmet? The organ reorganizer?

[Ludlow sneezes]

Ramford: Did you just sneeze?

Ludlow: Yes. I guess I did. Excuse me.

Ramford: Kind of weird.

Ludlow: How so?

Ramford: I guess I've just never heard anyone sneeze while being tortured is all.

Ludlow: I can't say I ever recall sneezing while being tortured now that you mention it.

[Ramford gives Ludlow a look of complete disdain]

Ludlow: What?

Ramford: It's just that I thought we really had something good going there, you know? I was really giving it to you as far as the torture is concerned -

Ludlow: Agreed. It really hurts.

Ramford: Exactly. Thanks for saying. And may I say you were doing a helluva job taking it, holding out for longer and longer as I continued to raise the stakes and subject you to more drastic and twisted methods of inflicting pain.

Ludlow: It's not easy. Believe me.

Ramford: Sneezing kind of cheapens the whole thing, don't you think?

[Ludlow farts]

Various personal bests (My P.B.s) / Polyp

Walking with eyes closed: 23.1 seconds ¹

Walking with eyes closed (uninjured): 12.4 seconds ²

Minesweeper: 34.8 seconds ³

Sidewalk cracks stepped on: 1,487,963 ⁴

Shots of Jagermeister: 7 ⁵

Hitting start then stop on a stopwatch: 0.02 seconds ⁶

Driving with my eyes closed: 8.7 seconds ⁷

Eating chicken wings: 49 1/2 ⁸

Long Jump: 7 feet, 11 inches ⁹

Phone bill: $1,876.00 ¹⁰

Sex: 46 minutes; 12.9 seconds ¹¹

Helicopter ride: 0 minutes; 0 seconds ¹²

Size of woman I slept with: 212 lbs ¹³

Crying: 3 hours; 47 minutes ¹⁴

Chopping grasshoppers in half using hedge clippers: 37 ¹⁵

Insult: "You should use some of the material from that stupid hat to sew yourself some sleeves." ¹⁶

Conception of a child: 1 ¹⁷

Hour: 56 minutes, 57 seconds ¹⁸

Movies watched back-to-back: 9 ¹⁹

Age: 11,359 days ²⁰
________________________________________________________
¹ January 15th, 2004: Long hallway on 17th floor on the way to the restroom
² January 15th, 2004: Long hallway on 17th floor on the way back to my desk
³ difficulty setting set to 'medium'
⁴ world record
⁵ October 7th, 1998
⁶ accomplished on 4 separate occasions
⁷ highway I-80 in between Loganton and Watsontown, PA
⁸ October 7th, 1998
⁹ 1989 Track & Filed day - blue ribbon winner
¹⁰ the people at Verizon are idiots
¹¹ October 7th, 1998
¹² have never ridden in helicopter
¹³ October 7th, 1998
¹⁴ October 8th, 1998
¹⁵ summer of 1986; grandmother's garden
¹⁶ told to Michael Peralt on December 17th, 2006 who was wearing a stupid court jester hat with a stylish sleeveless coat.
¹⁷ unofficial
¹⁸ broken clock
¹⁹ September 23rd - September 24th 1999: Mrs. Doubtfire, Grosse Pointe Blank, The Big Lebowski, Billy Madison, What's Eating Gilbert Grape, The Godfather Part II, Good Will Hunting, Jingle All the Way, Heat
²⁰ set today

The shovel of dirt situation (a children's story) / Thorax

Once there was a man with a shovel of dirt.
(picture of a well-dressed businessman flirting with his secretary)

[turn page]

He looked around and couldn't find a suitable place to put it.
(picture of the businessman smoking a cigarette in bed with his secretary laying beside him)

[turn page]

He tried to ditch it in his desk drawer at work but the cleaning lady found it and said she'd report it to HR is he didn't remove it immediately.
(picture of the cleaning lady witnessing a late night rendezvous between the businessman and the secretary in the businessman's office)

[turn page]

He wrapped it up and tried giving it as a birthday gift to his good friend Biff but Biff re-gifted it back to him on his birthday.
(picture of the businessman and the secretary secretly exchanging gifts on their respective birthdays)

[turn page]

He tried sneaking it onto his finished plate at his favorite restaurant but the bus boy found it and put it in a doggy bag for him to take back home.
(picture of the businessman and the secretary having dinner in a romantic restaurant with the businessman's neighbor sitting and watching at a nearby table)

[turn page]

He went to the pawn shop to try to sell it but all he could get for it was a slightly smaller shovel full of dirt.
(picture of businessman buying a gun at a pawn shop)

[turn page]

He tried to dump it in his neighbor's yard but his neighbor found it the next day and dumped it back.
(picture of businessman shooting his neighbor in his backyard)

[turn page]

He took it to the park and tried putting it on top of another pile of dirt but a park ranger saw him wrote him a ticket saying they had enough dirt.
(picture of the businessman burying his neighbor's body in a nearby park)

[turn page]

He tried eating it but it just came out the other end eight hours later.
(picture of businessman sitting on his neighbor's shallow grave, eating a sandwich)

[turn page]

He tried sneaking it into the offering plate at church but the preacher said that while he appreciated the generosity, he was going straight to hell.
(picture of businessman in a confessional booth)

[turn page]

Sick and tired of his shovel full of dirt, he climbed to the highest peak of the highest mountain. There was no one else around for hundreds of miles. If there was ever a place to safely dispose of a shovel full of dirt this was it. He cocked the shovel back and flung the dirt into the air yelling "Fuck you dirt!"
(picture of businessman standing on top of an office building)

[turn page]

Just then a violent breeze blew the dirt back into his face. It went into his eyes, hair, and mouth. He breathed it in and it entered his lungs, blood, and bones. Then the wind blew him off the mountain peak and hurled him, his shovel, and his dirt to the rocky terrain far below where they they'd spend the rest of eternity side by side, dirt by dirt.
(picture of businessman falling from office building, about to land on the secretary who happens to be standing directly below, hailing a cab)

THE END

zeroth life lesson: it's your dirt. you're stuck with it.

Short of breath, but Brandon / Sill

(breathing hard)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . Hey . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

(more breathing hard)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. What's up? . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Why'd you call me over here?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

(panting)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Well. . . . . . Judging from the pitch of your voice. . . (gasping) . . . I assumed. . . . . . . . it was some sort of. . . . . (coughing) . . . . emergency.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

So I ran over here as fast as I can.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
(wheezing)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Well?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Uh huh

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

And. . . . . that's it?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
(more coughing)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Look. . . . . (breathing hard). . . . . you know I'm not in the best of shape. . . .(more coughing) . . . . and moderately asthmatic. . . (more wheezing) . . . and had quite a bit to drink last night. . . . . . . . so why would you feel inclined to yell that loudly. . . . . . with that level of desperation. . . . . and make me run across the field. . . . (more panting) . . . up the hill. . . . over the chain link fence. . . . . . and all the way up the stairs. . . . . . . to share something so trivial. . . . . . and asinine. . . . . . . that could have so easily waited. . . . . . until a situation presented itself. . . . in which. . . (more breathing hard) . . . . we happened to be. . . . . . conveniently located near each other?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
(some dry heaving)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Well the answer to your question. . . . . is No. . . . . .No , I don't remember the name. . . . . . . of Punky Brewster's. . . . . . . . dog.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Oh wait. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
It was Brandon.

Fatherhood in the morning / Pinochle

[waking up, looking at clock]

5:44!

That's amazing!

I can't believe she let me sleep this long.

Christ, I'm going to be able to sleep past 6!

Incredible.

This is great. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I hope she's OK. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

What if she's dead?

My baby daughter's dead in the next room and I'm lying here excited about the prospect of an extra 16 minutes of sleep.

I suppose I should go check on her. . . . . . . . . .

But my night of sleep in officially over if I crawl out of this bed. . . . . . . . .

I'm sure she's fine.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I'll get up to check on her, she'll be breathing, that'll wake up the dog, which will wake up the baby, I'll still crawl back into bed for some reason, and I'll be back up again in 3 minutes, pissed off for the rest of the day.
Fuck it. I'm sleeping. . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Damn it.
She might not be dead but she might be dying. She might be suffocating at this very instant. If I got up right now and checked on her I may be able to save her life. Instead I'm lying here wide awake like some asshole.
I'll end up in the papers.
Local man lets his daughter choke to death on a blanket as he tries to snooze till 6.
National media will pick it up.
They'll interview me on the 'Today Show'.
Getting peppered with questions from Matt Lauer.
"Any lessons you've learned that you'd like to share with other parents across America?"
What a dick.
What would I wear?
Probably that new black shirt I got last week.
It's pretty flattering.
Which reminds me. I have to take back those pants.
I hope I have the receipt. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I totally threw out the bag last night that had the receipt in it.
Did I take out the trash?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
No but I did dump the leftovers from dinner on top of the bag.
What a fuckin mess that's going to be.
Spaghetti stained receipt. Beautiful.
God damned pants.
Like I fit in a 32.
This is fucking stupid. I'm up.
Check the kid.
Greet the day.

Conversation between crazy man and wall / Studebaker

Man: I know what I'm doing.

Wall: Then why are you so sad?

Man: They won't talk to me anymore.

Wall: You're better off without them.

Man: But I really miss the sex.

Wall: Why don't you go back to the park and jerk off in the bushes?

Man: I just did that.

[beautiful woman walks by]

Wall: Look at her!

Man: Bah! There are too many people around.

Wall: They don't know what it's like. They're no happier than you are.

Man: I recognize some of them.

Wall: I'm sure they recognize you too.

Man: It must be rush hour.

Wall: See how they look at you?

Man: That's why I don't look back.

Wall: You'd rather look at me?

Man: It'll help them understand.

Wall: After all, I don't stare.

Man: I can still hear the song.

Wall: You should dance.

Man: It was her favorite.

Wall: You should sing.

Man: I need a drink.

Wall: You should ask the nice man for food.

Man: What day is it?

Wall: Look at that newspaper.

Man: It might be an old newspaper.

Wall: They're all old newspapers.

Man: James is working at the store today.

Wall: James is an old friend.

Man: But he slept with my wife.

Wall: He'll help you out of pity.

Man: He said never to come back.

Wall: You should kill him.

Man: I'll bring him a free newspaper.

Wall: That didn't work last time.

Man: I should kill him.

Wall: You should kill yourself.

Man: James doesn't know what love is.

Wall: Kicking me is a good idea.

Man: James is my only friend.

Wall: Hug me.

Man: If I could only fit my arms around.

Wall: You need to stretch them further.

Man: I've got to get the hell out of here.

Wall: James is the only one that will help you.

Man: Yes. I'm sick of talking to you.

Wall: As am I.

Man: Fuck you. I know where I'm going.

Wall: You know what you're doing.

A new race of man / Marrow

A man wearing a designer suit, patent leather shoes, and expensive sunglasses runs into a laundromat and makes a bee line for a pile of unfolded clothes. He rips off his tie, uncomfortable shoes, and unnecessary sunglasses along with the rest of his clothes and proceeds to put on a pair of someone's sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt. He quickly scans the room for a more comfortable pair of shoes. Seeing none he he dashes out of the establishment to the shoe store across the street, leaving his $1,500 suit, cell phone, wallet, and other personal belongings behind. The man is in and out in a matter of seconds, not giving the laundromat's patrons enough time to react, let alone protest the man's actions.
The man enters the shoe store and has a pair of cross trainers half way on his feet before the door closes behind him. Again, before the shoe store employees have time to say anything more than, "May I help you?" the man has left the store and is sprinting down the street. Back at the laundromat the man's cell phone rings. It's his girlfriend waiting for him to pick her up at the airport.
The man comes to a sudden stop as he comes upon a fruit stand. The fruit guy asks him if he has the time. "It's time to eat." replies the man as he begins to peel an energy restoring, vitamin C rich orange he's taken from the display.
"Hey man! You're gonna have to pay for that!"
The man assesses the current situation in a matter of nanoseconds, surmising that he has no money.
"That, I cannot do." the man says, matter-of-factly.
The fruit vendor makes a half ass swipe for the orange and mumbles something to the effect of calling the cops. The man, sensing a threat, punches the fruit man as hard as he can, knocking him out cold.
The man tears down the street as fast as he can. He runs until his legs ache and his lungs burn. Behind him puzzled onlookers wonder why he's running, why he's knocking over the men, and why he's sexually assaulting the women as he passes. Even further behind a police officer is following a trail of dropped grocery bags and pissed off pedestrians.
The man tires and locates a fountain in a nearby park. He quenches his thirst, defecates, and promptly detects an empty park bench. He is asleep in a matter of seconds.
Later the man wakes to the prods of the police officer. He is handcuffed and places in the cruiser. The man is questioned about the laundry, the shoes, and the orange. The man denies nothing. He is placed in a cell. The man serves a sentence of one year for shoplifting and assault. Over the course of the year the man is fed three times a day and provided with a place to sleep. He is content. He pays his debt to society and is released.
His father picks him up at the jail. It's time to eat. His dad treats him to McDonald's. The man asks for a large orange drink.
It's not the same.

zeroth life lesson: sometimes you just need to go back to the basics - maslow's heirarchy style.

Start of a promising acronym / Podium

B ecause
A merica
R equires
A
C hange
K angaroos
O nly
B ox
A gainst
M idget
A ndroids

Nasty things to say to woman walking down the street carrying a bag of kitty litter / Scepter

1. I hope that's for your cat.

2. You know you wouldn't need to buy that crap if you just stopped feeding your cat.

3. Need some help carrying that? Psych!

4. Nice sack of shit sand you got there.

5. You're not supposed to eat that you know.

6. Is that for your cat or your ass?

7. Watch your step. There are some dead cats up ahead.

8. Went with the cheap stuff, I see.

9. Looks like your bag has a leak there. [then stab bag with knife]

10. Let me guess. You let your cat shit in the house.