As Time Goes By

When I was a child, I dreamed childish dreams, no one told me I couldn't. Believe in yourself, they said, you can do anything. I was a perpetually flowing chalice of unfulfilled potential. Sure a lot of those dreams were far-fetched, a little unrealistic, but they were mine.

Now I'm older, and I worry that I've lost that sense of childlike wonder at the world. I see that I probably won't live out those dreams of yesteryear. Only now do I see that I will never pistol-whip anyone.

Sick Jokes from the Future

Mean-spirited, sick jokes have been around as long as I can remember. As soon as some sort of tragic event occurs, the market is flooded with them, like when the Challenger exploded, or we found out Rock Hudson died of AIDS, or most of the events of Michael Jackson’s life happened. Here are some examples, only you might not get them because they’re from the future. I can’t tell you how I got them, all I can say is one day, maybe not too far from now, these are going to be really offensive.

Q: Did you hear what Venus Williams' son said to her right after the Olympics?
A: Neither did she.

Q: Did you hear why John Ashcroft didn’t go to the latest White House dinner?
A: He said he had Mexican for lunch.

Q: Did you hear Mel Brooks is going to rerelease the movie Spaceballs? Except this time it’s going to just be called Spaceball.

Q: Did you hear about the new Benji movie?
A: Yeah, Elijah Wood is going to play the love interest.

Q: How many Armageddon survivors does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Both of us, but there’s no electricity due to the complete destruction of civilization. Plus, most of the light bulbs are broken.

Q: What’s the name of Shari Lewis’ new puppet?
A: Limbchop.

Oh, I See How It Is

Don't you hate people who use this expression? I know I do.

Tales of Inspiration

About a week ago, I was trying to return something at a local convenience store (apparently, when a comb says 'unbreakable" in huge letters across its surface, that doesn't necessarily constitute a binding guarantee. we'll leave it for the courts to decide) and in front of me in the line there was an older gentleman, purchasing instant lottery tickets. These tickets were the variety in which you needed to scratch off three matching sums of money, and that's the amount you'd win. I watched this man do his scratching, and I noticed that after he revealed two matching sums, he would throw the ticket into the garbage with the third number unrevealed. How odd, I thought, so I stopped him.

"Oh Pap Pap," I said (I call all older gentlemen "Pap Pap", and older women "Mee Maw". They all seem to love it, it's endearing. Maybe it's because my own grandfather wouldn't allow me to call him Pap Pap, even though I begged him. He insisted that I call him Dr. Phillips, although he was an electrician, and his last name was Henry. Now that I'm older, I realize that he may not have actually been my grandfather.)

"Pap Pap, why is it that when there's a chance you might win, you throw the ticket away without finding out whether or not you've won a lot of money? That's seems very silly to me. Right silly indeed." I said the last part with a comical Cockney accent, just to keep his interest.

"Well my boy, when you get to be my age, you'll have seen a lot of disappointments. I use these tickets to give myself hope. When two numbers match, I don't uncover the last one, because I get to walk around all day thinking that I could be a winner. If I see all the numbers, I might find out that I lost. I'd rather have the possibility of winning than the reality of losing," said the old man.

"If you're not going to buy something, you have to leave," said the clerk.

"Thank you, my dear sweet old old man," I said.

I thought about what that man said, and it made a lot of sense. He'd really figured out the secret to happiness. He lives a life of infinite possibilities. He's always a winner, because he won't allow himself to lose. I decided right then and there I was going to live my life that way. As soon as I was done getting those tickets out of the trash. It turns out that guy wasn't going to win shit. What an asshole.

Some things aren't so good.

This is a new feature at "the machine" where I'll point out that everything you like is actually complete shit. Hope you like it.

Isn't 11 the most retarded number of all time? If you think about it, all it is is two ones. What a bunch of bullshit.

Eleven. Some things aren't so good!(tm)

Million Dollar Idea

Check it out. Are you ready for this?

A car made out of water.

Can you imagine how many problems this would solve?
First, the car would obviously run on water, so the industrial-petrochemical-military complex would be knocked on its ass and there would be no more wars.
Gas stations would have way more room for pop and chips and stuff.
If you got into an accident, just add more water.
And the best part of all...water is free.

The only possible problem I can foresee is there would be no place to put a radio, but if you had a car made out of water, you really wouldn't need one. All you would want to listen to is the sound of your own voice saying, "Holy fucking shit! I'm driving a car made out of fucking water! Yippie yahoo hooray! This is the best day ever! Lick my butthole, Mr. President of America!"

So how about it, Science? What's the hold-up?

Excerpt from my Screenplay II: The Legend of Curly's Gold

Every once in a while, I'll be posting a snippet of dialogue for the forthcoming Shucksy McTurnbuckle's Original Awesome Machine: The Movie. This is the second in the series. Gotta catch 'em all!

"My dear, perhaps to you what we did was 'making love', but to me it was just an endless series of meaningless handjobs."

Excerpt from my screenplay

Every once in a while, I'll be posting a snippet of dialogue for the forthcoming Shucksy McTurnbuckle's Original Awesome Machine: The Motion Picture. This is the first in the series. Gotta catch 'em all!

"Brother Abraham, I'm just as Mennonite as you are! But if we don't destroy that nuclear submarine, there won't be any Pennsylvania to go home to!"

The Machine is On

Well, I guess I should get this thing started. It’s sort of exciting in a hey-gang-let’s-put-on-a-show sort of way. Giddy with the unlimited potential that this sort of thing presents and liberated by the knowledge that no one will ever see it. In the beginning of any endeavor, it’s easy to fall under the spell of the magic that surrounds you, unaware that it’s just a matter of time before the power fails and the genetically modified dinosaurs start eating all the scientists.

First, I’ll field a few questions.

What is Shucksy McTurnbuckle’s Original Awesome Machine?
Well, I’ll tell you what it’s not. It isn’t a machine that is awesome, it’s a machine that creates awesome. Think of SMOAM as a perpetually running turbine that’s churning and spinning out the world’s ever-dwindling supply of awesomeness, and also pictures of dogs in costumes. Those are hilarious.

Who is Shucksy McTurnbuckle?
Well, I’ll tell you who it isn’t. It isn’t me. Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s a very wise old man who lives in an old water-heater box in a Shoney’s parking lot near Great Smokey Mountain National Park. Maybe it’s a kid I went to high school with who died falling off a diving board. Maybe it’s the eternal spirit of mirth and merriment that lives within each of us. Maybe it’s just some random shit I made up because I thought it sounded funny. (it’s the last thing)

What can we expect to see on this blog?
I know it seems kind of sparse around here right now, but I’ve got big plans for this place. I’m going to try to write funny things for the nice people, and give them cool things to think about. And we’re planning to knock out that wall in the back and put in a tapas bar and a couple of air-hockey tables. Also, every Tuesday is Ladies’ Night, where women get in free and receive a coupon good for half off any Roasted Shucker® Pizza Pretzel Sandwich Dog. (coupon is non-transferable, sorry fellas)

Who can visit this blog?
What a retarded question. Anybody but you can visit it, retard.

What was the black Ghostbuster’s name?
Winston Zeddmore.
Oh yeah, I can always remember the other guys, but not him. Thanks.

How often will this blog be updated?
Probably every day, for the first couple of weeks. Then less and less often as I lose interest and eventually realize that this is pointless and a massive waste of time. Then never, as I forget that I even have a blog, until one day a friend of mine says to me, “Hey, remember that blog you used to have?” And I’ll just stare at him.

Check it out, I have a blog.

Whoop de god damn do.