Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Sam once crossed the interstate bypass route and was promptly run over by Chuck Norris in a SmartCar. It was the once instance where a SmartCar crash 1)did not destroy the SmartCar and 2)did not kill the driver. Chuck Norris jumped out of the vehicle and wept over the bloody and horribly mangled body for five minutes--when he punched it with the fist hiding underneath his beard. He then round-house kicked the body halfway to Timbuktu, where starving rodents ate its remains.
A mouse who happened to eat this carcass suddenly gained awesome Chuck Norris powers, grew larger and more anthropomorphic with washboard abs, and began riding motorcycles and looking cool for a living. It beat up Stephenie Meyer for no reason at all (other than the idea that it was a horrible author and should not be allowed a computer to type on, more or less pen and paper, but then again, this was an idea, a mere passing thought, a notion, rather than a stewed belief it had harbored for years). And then it died after shaking hands with Bo Burnham. The End.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Which I like to always go
To get away from rain and snow
Where all my crap is safely stowed
One two three four left right up
I can never seem to cheat enough
The cops will get me for this stuff
Until then I'll hide in the fluff
Converse or Vans is the decision
Both seem to alter my vision
So quietly I make an incision
On your heart to stop it's beatin'
How far can you jump on the swing?
I pride myself in better things
Like making crappy lunch to bring
and on your strings I will cling
I want chocolate and vanilla
Swirled together, intermingled
I eat with you a day and forever
I don't think I'll ever love another
I play blackjack in fake vegas
So I don't lose money to the haters
I like to hang out with the skaters
I invite them home for mashed potaters
Friday, August 6, 2010
Passionate orange mirrors your eyes, o lonely one
You have journeyed long and far, but where do you go?
Is it time to find a new family?
Is it time to find a new home?
Black and blue mirrors your heart, o wandering one
You have lived long and prosperous, but what do you know?
Can you see the children dying in these parts?
Can you hear the cold wind blow?
The shadowy clouds mirror your love, o king of beasts
You have seen skies like this, but were you alone?
Did you run from those who hate you?
Did you read the words on their gravestones?
The dry earth mirrors your life, o keeper of the east
You have walked roads like this, but did you bow?
Would you hold this weapon of mass destruction?
Would you dare sit upon Satan's toe?
And although you are but a beast
And I am but of man
We see alike, in different ways
Only I know how my tears taste
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
A slender hand pointed upwards, towards the black wall glittering with tiny lights.
"You see that?"
Dan turned his head to face her. "What?"
"That constellation." She glanced over at him before trying to map it out with her hands. "That long stretch of stars there. Do you recognise it?"
"I don't see it, Hikari, what are you talking about?"
"You seriously don't see that, Dan?" Shun asked, glancing over at his friend. "It's right there."
"Come on, you guys!" Dan complained. "What am I looking for?"
"Okay," Hikari began, pointing to another part of the sky, "Do you see the Big Dipper?"
Dan concentrated for a while before replying, "Yeah, I see it."
"Okay, look down and you'll see a cluster of stars that crawls up to the right a little bit." She drew the line in the air in hopes that he would see and understand. "The Big Dipper is actually Ursa Major, if that helps any..."
A minute of silence passed. "I still don't get it," he said. "I see it, but what is it?"
"It's the constellation Draco," Hikari said thoughtfully, as if it should mean something to Dan. "It's hard to spot sometimes, because it's so long it looks like it blends with other stars but it doesn't, not in Draco.."
Puzzled, Dan turned to his small red spherical friend. "How does that star look anything like Drago?"
"Not Drago!" Runo exclaimed. "Didn't you hear right? Draco. It's different."
"But it sounds the same..."
Hikari rolled her eyes and Runo smacked the boy in the back of the head. While the two bickered, Drago floated over to Hikari.
"I don't see it either," the bakugan admitted.
Hikari shrugged. "No worries, Drago. Just look at it and think of it as more of a snake with a dragon head. That should clear things up."
Drago peered at the sky once more. "Ah, I do see it. It's not like me at all. Why is it called Draco?"
"The people who looked up at the stars and decided to name them thought this one looked like a dragon--or what they thought was a dragon at the time. Not all dragons are the same."
The little white and yellow ball next to Hikari's head popped open and spoke up. "Like not all humans are the same? Or bakugan?"
Hikari nodded. "Exactly." Her phone in her pocket buzzed. Hikari pulled it out and read the message from her mother--dinner time.
Looking back at the still-fighting Dan and Runo, Hikari decided it was time to end this. "Okay, you two, either get a room or come down for dinner." With that, she scooted off the edge of the rooftops, her partner Wapiti clutching to her shoulder, and strolled inside.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
It's a birthday party for my best friend at another friend's house. He has a pool. We all swim in it, except for me. I didn't bring my swimsuit, and I just got out of surgery. I can't swim in bacteria-infested pool water. You would think that I would be home resting after heart surgery, but I feel fine. I want to go to my friend's house. Besides, I had been hospitalized for weeks. I want to be somewhere.
There's music blasting out of an old radio. Some of it's good. Some of it's crappy new age stuff. Some of the new age stuff is danceable to. But I don't dance, because I'd be the only one with goofy moves.
Later, a couple of my friends go into a sort of laundry room type building and come out minutes later with a cupful of kool-aid. The birthday girl fills little red dixie cups and passes them out to people in the pool. They all pass around the cups, some cringing.
I can't believe my eyes. I want to go home. They're not twenty-one yet, not a one of them. I see one of my classmates sipping from the cup. I'm sure he'll get expelled.
I can't stand it and decide to go inside. The AC is broken but it's survivable in the living room, where a ton of fans are blowing air around. I sit and wait. The dogs who live here visit me every so often. I think they can feel my anguish. I lay down and go to sleep. Nobody bothers me, except for the dogs who come and sniff. I wonder if they think I'm dead.
I wake up later. I don't know how long I was sleeping or what time it is. Bleary-eyed, groggy, and a bit delirious, I walk to the backdoor. Someone comlplains that there's red liquid on the floor.
"Maybe I peed there," I said.
"Then it would be yellow."
"Maybe it's my red pee."
They stare at me as if I'm growing tails out of my eyes. "Okay, first of all, that's just gross, secondly..." I don't remember what was said after that. I turn around. Another one of my best friends came in, toting people I don't know but they are friends.
"Hi, honey, how was work?" I said.
More antics around the pool. I don't feel like participating. I hang out in the living room. A friend comes in and turns the TV on. We watch Family Guy. There was a part when Peter denies the handicapped access to his food and he ends up handicapped himself "for forty-five minutes" and apologizes. If you think about it, he's already handicapped because he's retarded, I think to myself.
Later, more friends and non-friends gather at the door. They want to go walking around the neighborhood, like going to the park. I want to get out of this house and do something fun that doesn't involve water, so I'm like, "I wanna go too!"
But my friends are all standing around, speaking in low voices. I hate that. "Why do you have to speak in small voices? What is so secretive that we can't tell anyone else?" I tell them. I'm so fucking sick of it I want to puke. My best friend pulls me aside. The moment of truth.
"We're going to go out smoking, okay? Guys, just stay here, okay?"
NO, NOT OKAY, I want to say, but I just fold my arms, look away and sigh, obviously unhappy. It's dark in this room. The only light comes from the TV. I see it casting dark shadows on his face. He's pleading me. Why can't I say no to him?
"Fine," I tell him, but I really want to say, "No, don't go! Please! Stay with me! Watch movies with me! Forget about getting high!" I consider getting on my knees while pleading. But I just watch them all walk away down the street, anguished. Tears form in my eyes and I wonder when we suddenly became part of the norm.
Didn't we pride ourselves on being different from other people? Isn't that why we listened to oldies instead of that Miley Cyrus bullshit? Isn't that why we dressed like we just didn't give a flying fuck? I watch them walk away and become the people they never wanted to be. I go inside and watch I Love You, Beth Cooper.
It kind of reflects my feelings at the time. They're not who I thought they were. I thought they were unique--one of a kind people who were like diamonds in a haystack. I didn't want haystalk people for friends. I want the needles that are hard to find. I'm in the room with those people--three others out of the twelve or so that used to be here. A few others left before they went out smoking, so only five or so are those people that I wish I could keep with me.
After a few minutes, the door opens and in walks those who walked out on us. They avoid us. I go to the kitchen to see the birthday girl picking at the remains of the birthday cake. She looks like hell.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
She doesn't answer. I wait. She pushes past me and goes to the backyard, where all the others on the walk have gathered.
I go back to the living room and I want to cry. Is she so messed up that she doesn't recognise me? Above me, the fan light flickers. It's positioned in such a way that the light hits the fan and flickers like a nightmare light setting. I tell my friend so. He agrees that it does look a little creepy.
Later, the birthday girl comes in and sits on a chair behind one of the couches. The look on her face is unreadable, but she still looks like she was dragged by the hair through hell and back. Soon, my mother calls me and says that its time to go home, and she's outside in the driveway. Before I go, I give everyone I know a hug because I know I won't be seeing them for a long time--they're all going to college, and I'm staying behind in high school.
The birthday girl won't let go. She's crying. "I'm sorry guys..." she says, but I don't know why. I want to cry but if my mother saw the tears in my eyes, she would ask why and I would tell and nobody would ever be my friend ever again.
Only days later did she call me and tell me she was sorry because she felt like she had abandoned us on her birthday. Instead of saying "Oh, it's okay..." I said, "I accept your apology," because it wasn't okay. She and my other friends had abandoned us and just about broken my heart. Which is shit because I just got it fixed. Now I have to go in again.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
---------- ---------- ----------
“I need to see the President,” said the doctor, not even pausing to turn his head to the woman, “Get me his secretary. Tell her I can’t hold, this can’t wait for another time.” With that, he sharply turned into a hallway, and the assistant turned with him.
“The President?” she asked, eyes growing wide. What is going on? she thought, and made a note on her clipboard. “If she asks the occasion, what do I tell her?”
“Tell her,” Dr. Hessler growled, “That it involves the fate of the human race.”
The assistant slowed her steps. Has he finally gone senile? she questioned, then sped up to meet shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “Excuse me? The fate of the human race—what?”
The Doctor sighed and finally stopped in his tracks, startling the assistant nearly running to keep up with his long stride. She took a couple paces back to meet with him face to face. He rubbed his temples before finally telling her, “I know, I sound crazy, but it’s really urgent. Just… please, do it. Of all the crazy shit I make you put up with, please do this for me Krystle.”
Stunned, Krystle gaped and stared at his back as he walked away. He finally said please! What now, were pigs going to grow wings and fly off? Was the dispute between Coke and Pepsi over? She shook these ridiculous thoughts from her mind and made the long trek to her office.
---------- ---------- ----------
Krystle paused, one hand on the receiver, other twirling the phone cord around her finger. “That’s what I said!” she exclaimed. Another pause, shorter. “No! Nononono! Please, don’t hang up! I’m serious, please! Just, please, can you tell him that it’s very urgent, and… look, Dr. Hessler is an intelligent man. He doesn’t fool around like this. I know him best—I bend over backwards for the man. He even said please! He never says please! Just please, please, tell him it’s urgent, and we’ll be over there right away.” Krystle gripped the receiver tighter, hoping, wishing, praying. After a moment, she smiled and balled her hand in the cords into a fist, shooting the fist high into the air. Trying her best not to sound too excited, she replied, “Thank you so much. You have no idea how grateful I am, really.” Another pause. “Okay. Thank you. Goodbye.” She pushed the receiver into its place and untangled her hand in the cord. She had to tell Gordon.
As usual, he was in his office, staring blankly into his multiple computer screens. “I just called the secretary’s office. She said she would tell the President, but…”
Dr. Hessler looked up, his expression gruff as his eyes bored into Krystle. “But what? What?! Tell me, for God’s sake, don’t hide it.”
“It’s his son’s birthday today. He won’t miss it for the world.”
Groaning, Dr. Hessler looked back to his screens. “Oh well. We’ll crash the party and show him these scans. Of course, he’s no rocket scientist, so we’ll have to explain what they mean.”
Krystle raised a brow. “We?”
Unmoving, Gordon looked up at her. “Yes, Miss Krystle Frost, we, are going to convince the President that the human race will be wiped out unless we act now.” He looked back to the screen, clicked harshly on the mouse, and stood. “Come on. I’ve booked a flight for us.” He turned to his printer to pull out sheets of paper, hot and fresh with ink.
“Now? But… That’s in D.C.! We can’t just go to D.C.! I have a dog! She needs to be fed and taken care of and—“
“Then ask your roommate or mom or whoever to take care of her. We have to go.” He turned to Krystle, connecting gazes with her. “Frankly, the human race is more important than Fido.”
Krystle’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t just leave her dog behind! But then again, he was right—humans had a priority over animals. Slowly, sadly, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed her brother’s number.