Friday, August 29, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Jesus, Heather Miller is so fine. She’d only date a popular asshole though. I’m too offbeat. Can’t wait’ til high school.
God, Emily Jones is banging. I’m not going up to her though. She’s retarded. Won’t get my sense of humor. Can’t wait ‘til Princeton.
Damn, these Princeton girls are beat. I mean, Jamie Greene looks pretty good. But she’s pretentious and into lacrosse douchebags. Can’t wait ‘til the real world.
That girl in the bar looks dece. Though I can see the faintest hint of like impending crow’s feet when she smiles. Shit, we’re getting old. And she looks kinda vapid. Wouldn’t appreciate my whole Princeton vibe. Can’t wait ‘til we’re rich and settled. Make the pussy come to us.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Wherein our hero holds congress with a neighboring proprietor, renders judgments upon the state of his plantation, and imparts a valuable moral lesson.
Josiah: That is one weathered whip you’re brandishing, my friend.
Nathaniel: Yeah. It’s vintage.
Josiah: As long as it gets the job done.
Nathaniel: I guess. You know it’s funny, I used to be so against whipping my slaves. I was all like, everyone else just whips the shit out of their slaves, how is it funny and original if I do too? But now it’s like so trendy to whip your slave that it’s almost more ironic for me to partake -- just to reiterate the absurdity of how ubiquitous it’s become.
Josiah: Okay…well, Mary-Anna wanted me to remind you about our picnic. Over yonder near the waterfall. In a fortnight.
Nathaniel: Yeah. We’re in. I think you should tell people to bring their own reusable silverware and flatware though. Not to be a green nazi, but you know, little shit like that makes a difference.
Josiah: We were fixing to use wheatware.
Nathaniel: Even better. I gotta bounce though. Phone-banking for Obama.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Graham: So Risa apparently saw some porn on the computer in the intern bay.
Matt: What?! Are you serious? Dude, there is NO WAY that was me. I don't even use the intern bay now that I'm in your cubicle with you.
Graham: You're the only intern, bud.
Matt: This makes no sense. I mean, I looked up a few actress / models on IMDB last week. Could it have been that?
Graham: Not unless one of the actress / models was pregnant and riding a huge black cock.
Matt: Jesus. Dude, I have never looked up--
Graham: It's okay, I smoothed everything over. Told Risa it's your first time in a workplace. You'll be fine. Just don't do it again.
Matt: Wait. No, dude. This isn't cool. I never--
Graham: Honestly, I don't care at all. It's just, you know, Risa was upset.
11:33 PM IN THE OFFICE.
Working late. I'm helping Graham on an "important project."
I walk into the intern bay looking for my cell.
Graham's violently beating off to BLACK COCK CUM QUEENS. Turns around and sees me. Tries to cover up his erection.
Matt: Oh, jesus. I'm sorry. I was just looking for my--
Graham: No problem. Mi casa...su casa. Hey, so did you hear Risa apparently found a dirty butt plug in the janitor's closet? Fired Marcos on the spot.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Here's the kind of conversation I imagined them having once they got home...
Ron: Matt was amazing with the long division today. And his new RollerBlades looked awesome. He's a little stubborn, but overall, I think he could be a future president.
Linda: He's responding really well to our humanistic schooling philosophy. I wonder if he and Nicole Haynes will ever French? I bet that if we plan a big field trip to a tide pool, they'll make out on the bus. Nine seems to be about the age that most special, important boys have life-altering sexual experiences.
Today, I realize their interactions probably went more like this...
Ron: Are you only gonna have one sip of your wine?
Linda (yawning): I'm getting sleepy.
Ron: Come on, it's my fucking birthday. If I can't get any tonight, might as well give up.
Linda (sotto): Maybe you should.
Ron: Fuck you, Linda.
The only way we can really appreciate history is to put ourselves in other people's shoes. Take my favorite historical event. The Hamilton / Burr Duel. Here's how I picture Burr's first day after shooting Hamilton...
AB enters nondescript office in West L.A.
Office Manager: Here's the new parking assignment list.
AB: I don't have a spot in the main lot?! I've worked here for three years.
OM: Lou drew up the list. You can talk to him if you're unhappy.
AB (Sotto): Whatever.
AB thinks about the fact that he may have just killed a man as a big group of colleagues his age goes to lunch without inviting him. He pretends like he's doing something important on his computer as they pass.
AB notices Hamilton's blood on his hand. It freaks him out. Then he decides he wants a BlackBerry or an iPhone, because it seems everyone has a smartphone these days and his Razr is a piece of shit. But he can't justify paying for one because he's poor so he calls his 60-something upper middle class parents who live in Santa Monica.
AB: Hey mom, it's me. I've been doing some research, and I think it would be cheaper for me to get an iPhone if we all joined like a wireless family plan. Won't cost you and dad much extra at all. And I'll cover it if it does.
Mom (a little distant): We can look into that, Matt.
Or like when you go to an Asian massage parlor before it's busted, you can get a massage and then a little extra something to make you feel on top of the world. But after it's busted, it isn't any fun even though you're still going to the abandoned premises every night for three weeks in hopes that maybe Mei-Lin will return because she was the only person that really understood you after your ex left.
I just remembered this sub-par Newsweek article on Prodigy Internet’s marketing strategy I was reading in my bathroom on the evening of January 3rd, 1994. I was taking a sit-down pee. Intended to poo. But only pee came out. I was wearing teal briefs. And one sock.
I know this because I have hyperthymestic disorder. I can recall nearly every day of my life. In minute detail.
Also, my ex-wife just got remarried to a tall douche-bag dentist. I hate that she seems happy.
That is all.