t-shirts

i'm going to make t-shirts, with pictures of food on them, and sell them at the market. people will buy them. there will be a picture of an item of food and then above (or below or above and below) there will be the word for that food. there will be nothing on the back. some of the t-shirts i will make are:

• bananas
• nuts
  
• turkey
• meat pie
• candy
• sausage
• cheese
• cake
• ham
• noodle
• butter
• ricardo montalbán

what mariana said

the things i want to know include:

"what mariana said"

and "when is that new sushi place going to open (it's really close to my house and i like sushi and i like walking and i saw the lady in there yesterday and she was cleaning something off the inside of the window and she waved at me and smiled. i like it when people wave at me and smile and i think she was doing it because she is a nice person and not just because she wants me to frequent her establishment but it did actually make me want to frequent her establishment so definitely one of the things i'd like to know is when is that new sushi place going to open. also, what was she cleaning off the window?)"

also, "what is the name of that one guy and his hair is kind of red or strawberry blonde or brownish and he was in this show on tv but i know i just saw him in some other show and i' guess i'd like to know the name of that other show too but mainly i want to know what that guy's name is. he has a face and he talks kind of like whob whob whob but he's not from boston."

and "how long will it take me to walk my dog up to the vet because the appointment is at eleven and i don't want to be late but if i'm early i'll have to sit there and people will ask me if my dog is friendly and i'll say yes but i'll really want to say she is mostly friendly but sometimes she flips the shit out and i don't want to make any promises because sometimes she does flip the shit out and i don't really want to deal with her flipping the shit out right there in the vet even though she probably won't but i'd rather get there right on time and not have to worry about it but i've never walked that way before and it is kind of far. i should bring some water."

and i'd quite like to know "what does it take?"

and "what would she really like for christmas but not if it's too expensive because if it's really expensive and i know what it is then i will either buy it and secretly feel a bit resentful about how much money i spent when i didn't have that much money because i don't have a lot of money or i won't buy it and i'll feel inadequate and that shit permeates."

also, "do people remember me?"

and "what is boxing day, not just what is it because i know it is the day after christmas and you get the day off work but i mean how did it start, what is it for?"

and "when does the royal show start. i haven't been to the royal show in so many years but i'm kind of psyched about it this year and i'll think i'll take my nieces and we'll ride the wild mouse or i guess i'd also like to know if they still have the wild mouse at the royal show but either way we'll get loads of show bags and eat the shit out of some lollies."

and "what does ben lee say in that one song because i've listened to it like a million times and i always sing along but i have no idea what he is saying just in that one line and it's more fun if you know what people are saying when you sing along to their songs."

the cami re-mix

you aren't going to die with violet eyes

daisy,

i had some strange today,

with two.

in a car

and in the rain.

i tried such new things.

my two, hettie and joice, were about life.

no counterpoint.

you were a palace of shit.

were you ever my favorite?

no.

did you ever want to make it to hauschka?

no.

you were gravity.

you blend in.

you were a mongo.

very straightforward.

no questions.

no scorch.

no promise.

you were the least of divisions

and you aren't going to die with violet eyes.

From ...

1. Some strange gravity
2. If you aren’t going to die, at least make a palace of it
3. Mongo, Mingo, Mungos
4. Questions About Life and Shit
5. Scorch Atlas
6. Hettie and Joice and Daisy
7. Hauschka – Morgenrot
8. If people were rain
9. Two of my favorite things
10. Such divisions of promise
11. I had another post
12. Counterpoint
13. No violet eyes
14. Did you ever want to make Buddha pears?
15. A very straightforward blog post of new things to read
16. I tried to blend in with a car today

dawn patrol

we got jackets made up. they aren't real leather or anything. real leather jackets are expensive. they look like leather but they are a bit shiny. we did the letters on the back ourselves, too. we took our jackets into michael's and it was embarrassing because charmaine from the bus stop works there and i've always had a thing for charmaine and i had to ask her how can you paint letters on leather and she looked at the jackets and i said i mean how can we paint letters on these jackets that aren't leather.

"dawn patrol," she said and i thought she was going to ask what it means and i'm glad she didn't because i'm usually the funny guy and i think charmaine likes funny guys because she used to go out with ricky rocker and he's actually about ten times way funnier than me even though i am really funny it's just that he is so funny like one of those guys who says really funny things all the time. and i didn't want to be serious or cry in front of charmaine i just wanted to find out how to paint letters on a jacket that isn't leather and then maybe another day i could be funny and she would like it and we could go see a movie or i could sit next to her on her couch and we could talk about things and people.

she didn't ask though, which was good, and she was really helpful. she got all the stuff for us and they have this section in michaels where you can do projects and activities and she took us over there and did the first one so we could see how to do it. she's really nice and when she smiles she looks at me right in my face not like other girls who smile and look away.

then we went back to my place and finished up the jackets and then we went to visit dawn and we wore the jackets and we were pretty proud of them even though they weren't real leather and we did the letters ourselves.

dawn wasn't in her room. she was down in the dungeon as she calls it getting another scan. she doesn't have any hair from the chemo and even her eyebrows are gone and that time franklin asked her about her pubes she started to cry so we don't think she has any pubes either. the doctors say she's going to die but she isn't dead yet and she's fighting it but we all sat there in her room waiting for her to get back and we talked about it and we agreed that she probably is going to die. her face is all fat and she vomits and she's sad all the time and now she's back in the hospital and we don't know exactly what's happening but they are stopping the chemo.

when dawn got back she said that we were gay because of our jackets but she hadn't seen the words on the back yet and jeremy got kind of pissy because he is actually gay and he doesn't like it when people say things are gay but he got over it. then we all stood in a line and turned around and dawn saw the letters on the back and she started to cry and we thought it was because she was so happy about it but she asked us to leave so it was kind of weird but she didn't want to talk about it so we went home and the hospital is right on the bus line so we'd come in on the bus and had to catch it back again and this guy on the bus gave us a hard time about the jackets and i was mad about it all so i told him i wanted to punch his face out and he just laughed and said something to his friends and they laughed and it made me feel pretty bad.

so the next day i went back by myself and i decided to just carry the jacket instead of wearing it. dawn was okay but she said she was constipated and she pressed the button thing a few times while i was there and i think it was the one that helps with pain. i explained about the jackets and told her that we wanted to be the "dawn patrol" like her own personal people who could do things for her and she asked me if i was going to give her an enema and i don't know if she was serious about it and then she said it made her even sadder to see us being the dawn patrol because she wanted us to go out and do fun things and tell her about it instead of doing sick people things because then we would resent her and i told her no way and i don't really know why she was so upset about it.

i told dawn how hard we worked on the jackets and she said i should ask charmaine out sometime and i said i would. and then i asked her if we could still wear the jackets and she said yes but on one condition and i said oh no because she always puts conditions on things and it's usually something pretty annoying. what is it i said and she said that we could only wear the jackets if everytime somebody asked us what it was about we had to say exactly "there's this girl called dawn and every guy she fucks she gives them a leather jacket with dawn patrol on it." i told her they aren't really leather but i would say it.

so i wore my jacket on the bus on the way home and this other guy, i don't know why guys on the bus always pick on me but they do, so this guy called me a faggot and i told him my friend is gay and he said that proves i'm a faggot and he said why was my jacket so faggot. i got upset about it and i wanted to tell him that my friend dawn has cancer and she's dying and i made the jacket because i don't know what else to do and i want to help her but i tried thinking of things and this is all i could come up with and i know she doesn't want to die because she told me but i'm pretty sure she is gong to die and we've been friends since forever and why did she have to get cancer and die because she's a really nice kid even though sometimes she is sarcastic but she's never mean.

but instead of all that i said "there's this girl called dawn and every guy she fucks she gives them a leather jacket with dawn patrol on it" and the guy said that isn't a leather jacket and then i started to cry right there on the bus and then the bus stopped and charmaine got on. she came over and sat next to me and i cried all the way to my stop and then i got off and charmaine looked out the window and tilted her head a little bit and she smiled at me.

so today i'm going back in to visit dawn and i'm going to tell her all about it.

by the numbers

one eight one. two eight one. three eight one four four. five eight one. six eight one. seven eight one four eight. nine eight one two.

how to lose 100 pounds in 24 hours

stop being so fat and disgusting! it's easier than ever with the "how to lose 100 pounds in 24 hours" diet. follow these simple instructions and you'll be squeezing those ham legs of yours into your skinny jeans in no time. or in 24 hours actually.

1. eat absolutely anything you want (except food). i know, this sounds too good to be true but it really works. even though eating everything you want (except for food) sounds great, the truth is most things that are not food are very hard to eat (due to their size or taste or general durability). you'll find yourself not even wanting to eat things that are not food.
   
   
2. stop brushing your teeth! toothpaste is loaded with hidden calories.
   
   
3. stop hating on "fad" diets. the tv news has it in for fad diets but let's face it, fads are usually pretty cool ... remember leg warmers? so why would fads be bad all of a sudden just because they are helping you to be not so fat and disgusting
   
   
4. think positive! this is the key to losing weight. use positive affirmations like "maybe i won't be so fat and disgusting if i lose loads of weight" or "i am so fat and disgusting, i need to lose about 100 pounds"
   
   
5. visualize. athletes use this technique all the time and it can really work when trying to shed those pounds. picture yourself balling up a pizza and squeezing it into the middle of a donut and then eating it.
   
   
6. stop trying to figure out why you eat so much. it really doesn't matter if you eat because you are lonely, or if you eat when you are stressed or tired, or if you use food as a replacement for love. don't waste time fixing the underlying cause ... just stop being so fat and disgusting.
   
   
7. get your body moving! diet is only half the equation. if you really want to lose weight you need to get your body into motion. don't waste energy on exercise though ... all you need to do is get the molecules inside your body into motion, and you can do that with a long car ride. or even better, take a flight somewhere. if you are really poor in addition to being fat and disgusting then you can just roll about in your bed.
   
   
8. make friends with people who are even fatter and more disgusting than you. weight is relative.
   
   
9. replace fatty snacks with anger. instead of reaching for that chocolate bar try socking somebody in the guts. it will release the same level of serotonin into your brain so you will feel equally satisfied.
   
   
10. just stop being so fat and disgusting!

good luck everybody! be sure to come back here to share your success stories.

try this at home

next time you have a few extra minutes on your hands, try this fun "try this at home" activity:

1. go up to someone (a friend or a stranger, it's your choice!)
   
   
2. say "you are kind"
   
   
3. wait for the selected person to say "thank you"
   
   
4. then say "kind of an asshole"
   
   
5. punch the person in the face
   
   
6. walk away

stay tuned for more fun "try this at home" activities.

right now

he's known as a bad person locally. he calls people fucking cunts and tells his kids they belong in a garbage can. he refers to his wife's breasts as teats. he cheats. beats off at the beach. he borrows money from his brother and gambles it away on the ponies. taunts the retarded boy who works down at shoney's. flips people off when he's driving his car. he won't fix the gate. drinks too much, shows up late. wears dirty shirts and laughs when it hurts. he stole a pair of bowling shoes and still wears them back to the alley. doesn't feed his dog and never scratches her belly.

but this thing they say that he did, he didn't do. i was there from eleven until a quarter to two and he was there (with you know who). i saw what happened and i won't say who it was but it wasn't him. sure, he's lied in the past. a million times, probably. more. and believe me it shocks me to the core but i know what's not and what is true and between me and you, his words are bona fide authentic. not pretty but legitimate. every other day of his life has been lived without veracity, but i'm telling you this as a definite statement of fact. this one time, without a doubt, when he opened his mouth the truth flowed out. don't ask me why or how, wrong so many times before, he's right now.

too wide thighs

he doesn't like girls with tattoos. or high heel shoes. or girls who draw their eyebrows in with a pen. he doesn't like girls who don't do it right, girls with cellulite, or girls who critizise. too wide thighs. too short, girls who don't make their own money. girls who think they're funny. who expect him to dance. girls who move to france or girls who never take a stance. girls with fake boobs, girls with moustaches. ambitious girls. girls with psoriasis or girls who don't know what tired is. he doesn't like girls who want things or girls who cut their hair off. girls who drink, girls who spoon. girls who want to get married a little too soon. and he doesn't like girls who judge him.

phptographs of james spader in a white sports coat

i collect things. not just things. photographs. photographs of james spader in a sports coat. and not just a sports coat. a white sports coat. it is a very specific hobby. an obsession. i started collecting the same year that pretty in pink came out. i saw the movie and i wanted to be james spader in a white sports coat. i tried feathering my hair and leaning against cars but i couldn't pull it off. i was more like andrew mccarthy's even gayer brother. so i started collecting.

on sundays i drive around strange neighbourhoods looking for garage sales with boxes or stacks of magazines for sale. i buy them. i read them and with every turn of the page i anticipate. that feeling i will get if a james spader in a white sports coat appears. it will be euphoric.

i don't have a big collection. in fact i only have one photograph. it is a photograph of james spader in a white sports coat. i keep it in an album. on the front of the album it says "james spader in a white sports coat." i have pasted the photograph in the album and glued some sparklies around it. it looks nice. i look at it.

for my birthday last year my wife bought me a white sports coat. it isn't a photograph of james spader in a white sports coat. it is an actual white sports coat. i don't like it.

robots in rowboats

i saw a guy on tv. he claimed that he never masturbated. had never masturbated. in his life. he didn't need to because he always had a lady friend who could "take care of business" for him. i had masturbated. in fact i masturbated as i watched the tv, thinking about all of those ladies taking care of the man's business. except i was the man. then i ejaculated my last 10cc's of self respect all over the tv. it landed on the man's face.

so i wrote a letter to my local newspaper. it was an advice column and i needed advice. they edited out the part about me jizzing on the telly. their advice was to join a taekwondo class. you get to wear outfits, which they said would make me feel proud of myself. And they said lots of women take taekwondo class because they don't want to get raped. they said women who don't want to get raped are pretty good sorts on the whole.

so that's where we met. we had things in common. she didn't want to get raped and i didn't want to rape her.

i didn't kick her in the face because she had a nice face. but i did tumble with her. i slammed her on the ground. that's what you do in taekwondo. you slam each other on the ground. but we didn't get together. WE NEVER GOT TOGETHER. we did get together once. we didn't get together. we kissed. i also squeezed her buttocks with my hand. her butt. how do you say it when you want it to sound as rock hard sexy as it was. buttocks. butt. i liked it. we liked it together.

then i went home and masturbated. i was wearing my outfit and i didn't feel ashamed.

instructions for everything

if you have something that is broken, then these instructions can help you FIX IT. it doesn't matter what is broken . . . a TV, a relationship, a promise . . . because these are the INSTRUCTIONS FOR EVERYTHING.

1. power everything down
   
   
2. unplug and disconnect the modem
   
   
3. open the modem (some of them are not designed to be opened so you may need a hammer or strong teeth and agile wrists)
   
   
4. make sure the yellow urntz cable is connected to the hip socket
   
   
5. jostle the replicator drive
   
   
6. flip the jump switch
   
   
7. switch the flip jump
   
   
8. adjust the loop speed
   
   
9. set the kink limits to 1200 and 56000 respectively
   
   
10. make a sandwich
    
    
11. close the modem (use duct tape if the casing is cracked or put it all in an empty bread bag if the casing is obliterated)
    
    
12. eat your sandwich
    
    
13. draw a picture of howie mandell waterskiing in the nude
    
    
14. call your best friend and tell him/her that your new best friend is a picture of howie mandell waterskiing in the nude
    
    
15. power everything up (PC>router>modem)
    
    
16. go to a DOS prompt and ping the bounce node
    
    
17. type: 10 print “i’ve got a boner” 20 goto 10 run
    
    
18. tell it like it is
    
    
19. dig a hole in your back yard and bury the picture of howie mandell waterskiing in the nude
    
    
20. call your best friend back and say "gotcha"
    
    
21. exit DOS
    
    
22. go to http://www.mechanicallyseparatedpork.com and download the N35V2a1 driver
    
    
23. try and remember if you have any coke in the fridge. if you don’t, think about how great it would be to have a coke right now
    
    
24. set your network hover rate to 9.6 baud
    
    
25. change your screen refresh rate to something different than what it is now
    
    
26. divide everything by 12
    
    
27. give up

reading

i can look at people in their faces and understand "where they're coming from." when they talk i can "read between the lines." for example, there's a girl and she sits down and i like her. she says "i want to eat your pizza" and i am eating a pizza and it's delicious because it has pineapple on it and i'm going to eat three pieces even though i'm only supposed to eat two but what she really means is she would like to "get together" sometime.

and there's a lady at work who calls me a "fucking hole digger" and then she follows that with "i want to murder you." i can tell that she does want to murder me.

and the bus driver. there's a little girl and she's cute and her dad is bustling her onto the bus and the bus driver doesn't acknowledge how cute the little girl is or how bustly her dad is. i can see in his squashed up bus driver face that he doesn't want to be a bus driver any more. and then the bus doesn't stop at the stop and instead stops at the next stop and there is a lady who gets off the bus and she tries to make eye contact with a girl who also gets off the bus but she doesn't say anything. i can tell that she is "miffed" because now she has to walk back to the other stop where she wanted to get off.

now it's raining and two ladies come out of a door and one lady offers her umbrella to the other lady because the other lady has to walk and the first lady has a car. the second lady says "oh, no, no" and "i'll just run." i can tell that the first lady doesn't want to give the second lady a ride home in her car. The second lady is "right up my alley". I would quite like to "eat her pizza."

it works on the phone too because i call my friend johnson and say "hey" and he says "hey" but i can tell that he doesn't want to chat. I say "let's eat at vietnamese" and he says "that doesn't make sense you should say let's eat vietnamese or let's eat at insert name of vietnamese restaurant here and not let's eat at vietnamese" and i say "you know the name of the vietnamese restaurant" and he says "that's not the point" and i say "well why did you say insert the name of the vietnamese restaurant here when you know it is called viet nosh" and then he says he "has to go" and i can tell that he does not want to eat at vietnamese with me.

i won't go on but i could. i can do it with literally every single person i meet.

this t-shirt is ironic

(read to the tune of "this beat is technotronic")

Now when I'm down at the beach, tanned
I reach for my t-shirt and
nothing, somebody's stolen it
someone's gonna get a swollen lip
but yo, i got it planned, I demand
A new t-shirt to rock the home joint
With a retro look that has no point
Yo, so hip it will hurt, too
I'll explain the style of the shirt, yo

This t-shirt, this t-shirt
This t-shirt is ironic
This t-shirt is ironic

And the guy at the market's got a t-shirt
He's a bit of a cunt
But he knows i like t-shirts with shit written on the front
So I give the order of what I want
He don't wanna get sacked so he
Pulls out a t-shirt from the back door

Says it will get the party goin' on the dance floor
And that's where the party's at
And I'll find out if I wear that

So I rock that t-shirt steady
Like a rock and I won't stop
Till it goes yellow in the pit
Or suckers spill ketchup on it
But yo, when they do that it really sucks, coz
This t-shirt cost sevent five bucks

This t-shirt, this t-shirt
This t-shirt is ironic
This t-shirt is ironic

This t-shirt is ironic

This t-shirt, this t-shirt
This t-shirt is ironic
This t-shirt is ironic

There's the dance floor, get on it

Now when I'm down on the beach sand
All the ladies like my t-shirt and
I'm the man
To make you understand
How this is planned, I demand
A new t-shirt to rock the home joint
With a retro look that has no point
Yo, so hip it will hurt, too
I'll explain the style of the shirt, hah

This t-shirt, this t-shirt
This t-shirt is ironic
This t-shirt is ironic

This t-shirt is ironic

This t-shirt, this t-shirt
This t-shirt is ironic
This t-shirt is ironic

There's the dance floor, get on it

something wrong

there's something wrong with me. eating makes me hungry. and sleeping makes me tired. i'm not dysfunctional. my friend says i am dysfunctional but i don't have any friends. i can do things. i do things. i'm a person. i have a face. i can smile. i do. but smiling makes me think about smiling and i wonder why sometimes i don't smile. it makes me angry. it isn't right. other people aren't like me. i'm sitting on the train and here we go. right past that other train. right over there on that other track. it's going in the same direction as my train but much much slower. there are people on that train but not one of them look at me. if i was on that train i would look at me and wonder why i got to go much faster than me. being on the fast train makes me think about people who are not on the fast train. why are they on the slow train? and why are they so happy? it's maddening.

with a gun

her husband killed himself.

he held the shotgun between his feet and pulled the trigger with a string. or it might have been a pistol. he held it in his mouth and got off three shots before he dropped. and there was a tooth stuck in the door across the other side of the room. that's what people say. he did it with a gun. or he sat in the car in the garage with a hose connected to the exhaust pipe. she was there. or she was working late that night. or they'd had a fight and she'd gone out for a drive. but not in the same car that he did it in. unless he did it with a gun.

and now here she is. laughing and working and why isn't she sad. she is sad. she cries. she hates her son because he reminds her. his face. her son moved to alaska. to escape. or he's off at college fucking sluts. he's off the rails. drugs. or he's coping okay. he's getting married in the fall. to a nice girl. he's closer than ever with his mum. they go to the movies on tuesday nights because it's half price on tuesdays.

he did it because they were having money trouble. she cheated on him or he cheated on her and he was ashamed. he beat her. he had a history of depression. they were so good together. always happy and they used to kiss sometimes right there in the street. they were still in love. why him though? he was the strong one. always there. and funny and he smiled and never would you suspect. he'd talked about it before. joked or he was serious. he asked her for help. she didn't help him. they went to see someone together. he went to see someone. he was taking something. he was getting better. he didn't drink. no drugs. not even prescriptions. he was a gambler.

his insurance policy covered it. she's all set now. or it didn't. she's moving back in with her dad. he has a drinking problem. or a broken hip. he's moving in with her so she can help care for him. she got fired from her job. embezzlement. or she kept crying in the meetings. she quit.

she uses her job as an escape. she's a workaholic. a promotion and now she is somebody. how long has it been? she's already seeing someone else. fucking him. they were together before. now it's in the open. they're just friends. he's helping her get through it. they talk and drink coffee. like friends.

the boy found him. there was no note. or she found him. there was a note. one word. sorry. or it said i tried. i love you. or it was rambling and he hated her.

they are selling the house. can't get the blood out. she has kept his things exactly as they were. it's creepy. she's moved on. painted the house and planted daisies. she sits on the porch and waves. she smiles. or she's angry. hateful. she can't understand why.

her husband killed himself.

never clone a clown

there was one clown. now there's two. i know. i have a little explaining to do. it started, well it started back in 7th grade. science class. we never did get to shank any frogs but one time fatso randazzo distributed pigs eyes to me and all my classmates. from a big sloppy bucket. and scalpels. and we were shown how to remove the cornea. step-by-step. we were not shown how to bash and mash the eyeballs with our textbooks. eyeballs are rock hard by the way. they do not squash. they do shoot out sideways from under your smashing instrument. anyway, that's when i decided to become a scientist. or roundabout then. i put a pig's cornea in my eye like a contact lens. it hurt pretty bad and i couldn't see anything. but it felt good. emotionally.

so a few years on i was at the university trying to invent time travel and robots and i couldn't quite figure it out and i should also mention that there was this girl. this girl was actually a woman. a woman of profound intelligence and she wore a lab coat and i wanted to squeeze her in the squeezy bits. i talked to her. this girl, this woman, and she talked to me and she told me that she wanted me to take my pants off, which i misconstrued for love.

have you ever noticed that girls in the lab always smell nice. it might be on account of how everything else in the lab smells like scorched nostrils or it could be that girls in the lab don't want to be the one girl in the lab who doesn't not smell like the boys in the lab. she smelled like licorice. black licorice and i wanted to taste her in the face. the reason i mention all this is because i spent a lot of time with her. this girl, this woman her name was doreen. that's another thing. girls with ugly names. i don't know what. maybe it's just the contrast between how awful their names are and how not awful everything else about them is.

anyway she was a cloner. tomatoes and ants and not dogs. the dogs are another story but actually the dogs are what ended her. and us in a way. there was a scandal and she moved and she left me standing there by myself. in the lab. cloning. just me and the science and okay there were a few other girls who smelled nice like i said but they didn't talk to me much. or they talked too much. you know how it is when you don't not like people but you also don't want to chat about things or tell them there is something in their teeth.

other people were cloning. in russia they cloned a polar bear. there was pressure. from the university and also there was a pharmaceutical company that gave me a grant and they said hey we are not paying you to eat girls in the face (i told them about doreen. i shouldn't have, i mean why would i, but i couldn't not). so i had to go big.

and just at that same time, a time when i was not good, things started to look up. my advisor heard about a lady who went to bali and came back with a mound of moving spider babies embedded in her cheeks. it wasn't true. an urban myth i suppose. but the guy who told my advisor about the lady with spiders in the face, he himself turned out to be a promising candidate. he was a clown. one of those clowns that you can hire for kids' parties and he wasn't good at it because he had this horn and it was way too loud and really irritating and all he did was blow the horn and say something and then blow it again.

anyway, the clown guy had twin girls and i guess both girls were dying from kidney disease and he was a match and so he gave each girl a kidney and they turned out to be just fine except for the fact that they had a clown for a dad and also their dad didn't have any kidneys anymore.

so the plan was to clone the clown and then, well i figured he would die anyway because what else can happen when you don't have any kidneys. but the plan was to clone him and make a little clown baby with the same dna and then it would maybe be a way for the twin girls to feel okay about killing their dad because they could raise their new dad as their son. or one of them could at least.

anyway it all worked out perfectly. we even injected the clown baby into one of the clown;s daughters and she grew him all up inside of her.

but this other girl in my lab, who admittedly did smell nice, i'm not lying about this phenomena, she snuck around behind my back and really put me in a tough position. for two reasons. firstly, it turns out you are not supposed to clone actual people. so there was that and i had to go to court and everything. but worse, she went and cloned one of the clown's kidneys from inside his daughter (the other one) and then gave the new one back to the clown. don't worry if you don't follow. cloning is a lot like time travel with all the paradoxes and everything it is nearly impossible to figure it all out.

so now the clown is all honking his stupid horn all over the place, healthy as a clown with one good kidney, and that damn lab girl is getting all the press. then of course the clown's daughter doesn't want the new clown because why would she when her dad is a-okay and also she liked to play tennis and kind of wanted to turn pro and thought a baby might be a bit of a hassle in that regard. so actually maybe a kid would be good for me in my life so i called the child protection agency and said oh hey and then i hung up on them because i realized that kid is going to turn out to be a clown just like his old man and i don't even really like clowns.

so now i have a lab in my garage. unaffiliated. unfunded. trying pretty hard to figure out time travel again. and robots.

connecticut

i'll sniff the petals

and stem the tide

then ride the wave

and say goodbye

she had an idea

she had a job. and a boss. and an idea to tell her boss. at her job. it was a good one. the idea. and the job. and she was excited to tell her boss. she was nervous though. about sharing the idea with her boss. not because it wasn't good. because it was. the idea that she had. but to tell her boss. about the idea. was a little bit awkward. she had never told her boss anything. at her job. never asked a question. or raised a point. but now she had something to say. at her job. to her boss. and it was about this idea that she had. she would tell her boss. at her job. about the idea. first thing in the morning. or if her boss was busy then maybe after lunch. she liked her job. and her boss. and was proud of her idea. so she would tell her boss. as soon as she could muster up the courage.

short story

his story was too short. this is not a metaphor. this is not about a man who died too young. this is literally about a story that was too short. it was intriguing and intelligent. and funny of course. as far as it went. but it was over before it began. or since i am being literal, it ended before it was over. and the man who wrote the story, he had a beard.