$1000 / 2br – no smoking, no pets, no parties, no life (123 monopoly avenue)
Reply to: microwavedgerbils@gmail.com
Cozy 2 bedroom cesspool in a quiet god-fearing neighborhood available for rent may 1. Will only rent to single female occupants, preferably quiet students with no personality who know how to shut the fuck up and accept their life of servitude to the capitalist overlords who rigged the system long before they were born. Must be free of active sores and lesions. No fatties.
Yanks eat wierd
This weekend I had the privilege of attending an American wedding courtesy of my cousin Lacey whom I barely know. I was really going because my sister was allegedly showing up, a sister whom I barely see, for this wedding of my cousin whom I barely know. Irony comes in the form of bare disappointment when she (the sister) inexplicably cops out and I am left to enjoy the company of my brother (a plus), my Mormonly mother (a minus), and about 50 other relatives that I had never met. Parents-to-be, spare your spawn a world of awkwardness and keep the mini-me’s to a minimal numeral. Much anticipation and false interest can be prevented with plain, straight-forward foresight.
“Hi. We’re related, but frankly, there’s too many of us for me to give a damn about you. Nice to meet you though.” The unspoken speaks for itself.
The union was short and sweet, and after a rough hour of post-union familial banter we were off to the reception for grub. Shamefully no alcohol was served, but Mormons don’t drink booze now, do they? They don’t drink caffeine either, but then what’s this? Diet Pepsi? Dr. Pepper? Score one for me! If I can’t get sloshed I can at least get overly chatty and excuse myself early just as easily. All the crying babies running around got to me pretty quickly too. The thing was, however, that it seemed they were all raised communally, or more specifically, a teary-eyed child could run up to any given adult and receive instant comfort and consolation. They were so trusting with their kids, hell I could have made a few bucks on the black market.
“Your over-confidence is your weakness.”
“Your faith in your friends is yours. Conservative babies! Come and get your conservative babies while they’re still in disciplinable tears! I’ve got two-years, I’ve got four-years. No home is complete without subservient meat! Buy one today!”
Speaking of meat, there was no shortage to be found as far as wedding food went, and most of it was not of natural origin either. Luncheon meat in wraps, bulk-style chicken wings… I had, or rather was involved in a conversation in the line-up about how good the Costco meatballs were. Apparently their reputation preceded them. More aptly in my mind, if there was one food item on the table that gave off any premonitions it was the mysterious crock-pot filled with a barbecue/dark gravy like sauce with chunks of hot dog floating in it, evenly spaced to suggest that it was either a barbecue wiener stew or that those ahead of me had already filled up on the wiener part of it. It didn’t catch my curiosity in either possibility.
Afterwards I went to the movies with a cousin who I actually knew and one of her friends. We saw Julie & Julia. It was witty at best, but still far better than hanging out with my mom in her trailer watching something of equal or lesser enjoyment.
The Misadventures of Rudy McTavish
(co-written by J. Kemble)
There was once a man on the hill. His name was Rudy McTavish, and he had a giant rash on his forehead. One day he went to the doctor to get the rash checked out, and as it turned out, it was not a rash at all, but actually forehead herpes. This upset Rudy greatly. Very greatly indeed.
Infact, he found it so distressing he decided to eat a sandwich. It was the most delicious sandwich he had ever eaten… so succulent…so tender…he had almost forgotten about the horrible forhead herpes he had been diagnosed with earlier. But his anger quickly returned…and as his anger grew stronger…the herpes grew bigger…and bigger… until it reached his bottom, which he found terribly unpleasant. “Oh dear”, he said. And with that he let out a very large toot which bellowed through the streets, and all that remained was a smile on his face and glint in his eye…
Unfortunately the glint turned out to be another tumor, and so he used his telekinetic powers, which he just realised he had, to summon powerful healing aliens from another reality. And so they arrived in a giant tuna can shaped UFO which landed on his front lawn with a loud thump, waking most of the neighbors.
“We have come to heal you, Rudy,” said the alien leader, “but first, you must accomplish this task for us…”
“You must rub your belly and pick your nose simultaneously, while dancing the macarena… and give ol’ Nigel over here a quickie; he’s a bit desparate,” announced a second alien as he bit into a delicious slice of blueberry pie.
“Can I have some pie, too?” Asked Rudy.
“I’d really rather you didn’t”, exclaimed the alien.
“Aww, why not?” replied Rudy.
“It’s complicated…well. Not really. It’s just that it belongs to a very dear friend of mine and well..you see…it’s a very special pie…this isn’t an ordinary blueberry pie….oh no. This is much different. Very different indeed…”
“How so?” asked rudy as he scratched his balls.
“It’s intergalactic pie. And actually I just realised that it really IS complicated. So complicated that if your were to ever eat a slice, your head would explode from all the munkerballoobik energies in the delta quadrant of Xerxis. Look, it’s all a bit technical, but rest assured, your mission is clear. To find these pies and NOT eat them, one by one. Understand?”
“No,” said Rudy, letting loose a big fart from his anus.
“Neither do we, and so we shall leave you to your stupid herpe facial disease thing, which it turns out we actually can’t cure, cuz we’re not really aliens. We’re actually….”
“Stop saying actually,” said Rudy.
“No, shutup I’ll say what I want,” replied the alien.
“Uhh…. what-ever!” said Rudy as he rolled his eyes in disbelief.
“Don’t you whatever me, bitch”.
“Oh no you Di-ent!”
Rudy became so angered, he didn’t hesitate to punch the alien right in the nose….. ….which he later realised was his testicals. But either way, Rudy had little patience, and what the aliens had failed to realise was that Rudy wasn’t exactly a fan of aliens that liked to try his patience… and so he ran off down the road flailing his arms in the air and screaming like a girl….until he reached the local shopping mall and decided to try on a pair of pants.
“Do these ones look good?” Rudy asked the salesman.
“They make your ass look a little fat,” the salesman replied in an uncharacteristicly blunt manner.
“But I like my ass to look fat. It makes me look very distinguished,” sobbed Rudy.
“Then these wishes three I shall grant you on the very first hour of the first day of your first born child…” expressed the salesman.
“Not interested,” Rudy said, and suddenly ran out of the store chasing a butterfly. Soon after he tripped over a sleeping homeless man and cracked his head open on the pavement. Nobody missed him. The end.