Archive for January, 2013
It happened quite naturally – like light waves propagating from a source or Meryl Streep getting an Oscar nomination or, in this case, yours truly gaining access to his past lives. With faith in the precept that those who fail to heed history are doomed to repeat it, I’d resolved to learn from my past and apply it to the future. I had beseeched God regularly for access to my past lives and he finally sent my guardian angel Cyrus to facilitate the matter. Although I really think God just wanted me to stop pestering him so he could address more pressing issues like the possibility of a Rocky 7 movie. I even had the audacity (chutzpah if I was Jewish) to request access to my future incarnations, but Cyrus reminded me, “You can’t see what hasn’t happened yet.”
“What about the movie Back to the Future,” I queried?
“Listen David. Don’t be so cute. We can arrange for you to pass a kidney stone very easily. Is that what you want?” Cyrus warned.
“Well yes,” I affirmed. “I mean if I have to pass a kidney stone, I would like to pass it very easily.”
“David, you try my patience,” Cyrus intoned.
“Oh really? Well you should try mine some time,” I countered.
“Do you want to see your past lives or not?” an exasperated Cyrus declared.
“Yes, yes of course I do,” I exclaimed. Read the rest of this entry »
I couldn’t help myself. After ordering the mahi-mahi at Chi-Chi’s in Walla Walla WA, I couldn’t leave well enough alone and just enjoy my lunch lunch. No. In the background, my mind kept trying to rewrite The Mamas And The Papas hit “Monday, Monday” using the words mahi-mahi. The idea arrived uninvited and pursued me while I speared the mahi-mahi with my tines till the prongs were full, then I thrust them into my mouth and, closing my teeth, pulled out the fork thereby placing its freight in my capacious jaws. Oh sure I’d eaten less descriptively before, but as I’d recently survived a plane crash and felt alive on the planet, I lived life like someone left the forking gate open. Read the rest of this entry »
When Neil Armstrong returned from his first moonwalk, Buzz Aldrin, who was laboring under the hallucinogenic effects of an unnoticed nitrous oxide leak in the Eagle, had locked the door and refused him entry. The situation grew tense, but, as had occurred during their entire journey, good fortune soon smiled on them and the situation was resolved. Under the Freedom of Information Act I obtained a transcript of their conversation and post its contents verbatim:
Neil: Hey Buzz let me in. Hey Buzz, the door is locked. Let me in. (He knocks on the hatch and even though sound waves cannot travel in a vacuum, buzzed Buzz can hear them anyway)
Buzz: Who is it?
Neil: Who do you think Buzz? We’re on the god damn moon. C’mon, let me in.
Buzz: Neil is that you?
Neil: No. It’s Helen Keller. Read the rest of this entry »
Very rarely am I blindsided and tickled pink by a literary passage that packs the unintentionally humorous punch of a Linear Particle Accelerator. Such was the case when this unsuspecting reader was suddenly seized by a powerfully jocular elation; when all he really wanted to do was drift off gently to safe and restful sleep, sleep, sleep. Allow me to set the scene. It’s late evening and I’m reading in bed prior to an early morning shift at the local satis factory (yes, we manufacture satis). As my pursuit of Early American history is unquenchable, I’m curled up to an esoteric and anecdotally superb book called Beauties and Celebrities of the Nation which describes the social life of Washington DC during the early Presidential administrations. In this particular chapter, George Washington’s administration (which in 1794 was located in Philadelphia pending the construction of our new Capitol in DC) is being surveyed. Read the rest of this entry »
Mmmm! Yummers. These are just some of my favorite astral plane Pepperidge Farm cookies. Are they on your list?
Transgendered Gingerbread Something er Others
Whoopsie Daisy Flourishes
Multi-Striped, Triple-Dipped, Neo-Drizzled Fancher Snaps
Flightless Shortbread Spinsters
Origami Cannibal Chews
Double Stuff Oreogasms (Women may have as many as they’d like. Men must wait at least 1 hour between cookies)
Pepperidge Farm does remember. My name is Orville Redenbacher and I approved this message.