The fucking song

I like to think that if I had my own radio show dedicated to country hits of today and yesterday my show would be called 'Farm and Barn', and my theme song would go:

Don't reach out your arm

To cause harm 

Or set off alarms

That'll ruin calm

So instead use that arm 

To turn on the best darn 

Show called 'Farm and Barn'  

The only problems I can see with this plan are as follows:

- I don't currently have my own county radio show. 

- Let alone one that has country hits from today AND yesterday. 

- They rarely have theme songs for country radio shows. 

- I hate the thought of alienating people who enjoy causing harm.

- Or calm.

- 'Farm and Barn' would be a stupid name for show, only picked cause I like that those are both country sounding words that rhyme. 

- The song kind of suggests that this is merely the best show of all those called 'Farm and Barn'.

- Which is maybe fifty shows world wide tops.

- Best out of fifty is not a goal enticing enough to put in the work that would be required to be the best. 

- And it'd be uncouth to lie in song. 

- Farms and Barns are places that often have bad radio reception. 

- So is Guam. 

- Which is a rhyme that didn't even make the fucking song. 

- I hate the thought of alienating the armless. 

Other than that I'm set, so, yeah... Send me your job offers now! 

All Praise

She was always on time.

It was her thing.

'I'm always on time!'

She'd reply. 

Upon being asked if she had a thing. And then being pressed about what that thing was. 

But that was before the clocks stopped.

She has a new thing now.

Glushgg scrubber in the post dystopian post alien invasion post democratic alliance of the post postmaster era. 

It's not as cool as her old thing, but as she always say. 

'Glushgg's ass stinks if no one scrubs it'.

Oh wait, maybe saying that could be her new thing? 

Cool. 

Turns out there's hope for us all. 

All praise Glushgg. 

Red Comfort

He wore a red shirt. 

He always did. 

'It's the only way to know there's not a bull stalking you ready to gore'

He'd regularly say. 

'But then if there is one you'll be the first gored' I'd reply.

'Exactly, I've been gored three times on land, and once on a cruise, it's a small price to pay for knowing for sure that if you were going to be gored there's a good change it'll already have happened' he'd state. 

'A bull on a cruise, that's interesting' I'd ponder. 

And that's how the Red Coats lost the war of independence.

YOU'VE BEEN HISTORYIED! 

Wombat or Saucy Socialist?

Time to play... Wombat or Sensational Saucy Socialist Scandinavian Serendipitous Party Trick? 

You put it in your mouth.... 

You put IT in you mouth....

One last time 

YOU put 'it' in your mouth.... 

Kazaaaaghkhh!!! Awwww. No winners today, but we'll be back again tomorrow. Thanks for playing everyone. Thanks for watching at home. Thanks to my lovely co-host Melon. Thanks to King Jurijg. Thanks to the heavily militarized militia that stalk my subconscious. Thanks to the 17.2% of the world's population who don't know how much to tip their private scalp masseuse. Thanks to my pet Moose. Thanks to miscellaneous millisecond millepedes. Thanks to the crime reporters from the 1820s and their tireless efforts to create a still beloved system of lightening horror with great puns, such as 'Your Chances of Enjoying A Night At The Movies This Weekend Have Been SLASHED' and 'Still Happy That Front Door Locks Have Yet To Be Invented? Find Out Why That's A Brutally Stabbed In The Neck, Skinned, And Then Turned Into Lampshadingly Stupid Thing To Think, Right After This Commercial Break'. Thanks to plastic for still being the world's best substance to make plastic bags out of. Thanks to suitcases for giving us all the opportunity to slyly whisper to someone 'I'm casing this joint' with them knowing full well you may not be planning on robbing the place, but merely planning on burying it in suitcases. Thanks to elaborated practical jokes for being so darn practical, and occasionally even elaborate. Thanks to toiletries for making actual trees feel less subconscious about being what die to make toilet paper. And thanks to moonshine for being the only good thing ever made of moon rocks. 

That's it from us tonight, but please join us again tomorrow for another exciting game of ... Wombat or Sensational Saucy Socialist Scandinavian Serendipitous Party Trick?  

Carry On Then

I should have known something was up when they announced that as the plane was full they'd be enforcing the two carry ons only rule we'd all agreed to at check in, and he didn't proceed to still carry onto the plane a full suitcase, three bags of shopping, two purses and a Buick. Something was up indeed. And for once it wasn't the raccoon entail soup I can't seem to remember that I do not enjoy eating. 

Yep, it had happened, there was a weird force of a man on my flight, the kind of man you hear about but never dream you'll share a flight with, a man as rare as Sasquatch taking a bath, that filthy animal (Fun fact: Sasquatch's long held fear of bathes is where the term 'you filthy animal' originated), the type of man who you would totally live tweet about, if the promised Wi-Fi actually worked, because this is the type of man so rare on a plane that EVERYONE would want to read about it - yep, I got to share a flight with another human being who was NOT an epic selfish cunt.

Now calm down...

- 'That's not a real thing'

- 'Your a lying filthy animal'

- 'I've flown before, EVERYONE, is a total selfish cunt, and I like to complain about it and yet still be really selfish and cunt like myself'

- 'Yeah, ok, so he was just a demanding prick then?'

I hear you all screaming. 

Well in response...

- It is real. 

- Nice try on using that fun fact but 'your a lying filthy animal' is not the same as 'you filthy animal' (fun fact: 'your a lying filthy animal' originated after it was discovered that Sasquatch is scared of using the correct simple contraction of 'you' and 'are') But it does exist I tell you. 

- You don't get to complain AND be a total selfish cunt, just treat other people like you'd like to be treated you dicks.

- No.

Get this - he didn't even attempt to board till his row was called, he only...  wait no, I'm not going to go ahead and list all the things that make being a decent fellow traveller entail, you know that, unless you're not lucky enough to fly places like I am, sorry I didn't mean to boast, plus 'entail' that's right it's Raccoon 'Entrail' soup  I like, not Raccoon Entail, no wonder my lunch hasn't been staying down. I might stop eating Raccoon soup all together till I can learn to pronounce simple middle of word Rs. 

 

Today was the best day of my life, because I got to fly from LA to Chicago with another decent human being. Although to be honest I made him up, and I'm a little disappointed in myself that even in my imaginary world I made him a him, but I can't be bothered to go back and change his sex now. Plus, when they announced four times that they won't be allowing extra carry on baggage, why the hell did the woman with a full suitcase, three shopping bags and two purses get let on instead of crucified against the wall as a warning to other potential cunts? 

Women! Am I right? (Fun fact: 'Sasquatch's long held fear of pronouncing 'women!' and then people not agreeing that he's correct about things right after pointing this out, is where the phrase 'Women! Am I right?' Originated). 

Great phrase originator that Sasquatch, bit of a sexist. 

Square on dispirit

Delta spirit trash can! 

Now that I've got that off my chest it's time for us to talk about your current strong sense of dispiritness angled firmly towards the sea urchin. 

Yes I know it's not angled directly towards the sea urchin, but it's close enough and I think we can stop this before its angled square on towards the sea urchin, which could be very bad, very bad indeed! Well not in any tangible way, but still, square on sounds bad. 

So here's what I'm going to offer you in return for your promise to lay off the urchins: 

- My thanks on behalf of the Sea Urchins. 

- A card entitling you to a silent declaration of sea urchin disappointment, that you can use at anytime no questions asked.

- A slice of ham.

- A Boyz To Men tape. 

- The Sea Urchins thanks on behalf of me. 

- $3.27 in small change (please note: if some of this turns out to be rusty then it is STILL legal tender, and it's not my fault if your local store won't accept it). 

- A kids toy that's both fun and educational (please note: how much your educationated by this toy will be at least in part dictated by how much you currently know). 

- A block of cheese, a SQUARE block! So that should satisfy any 'square' lust. 

- If you dye your hair a drastic color and then your roots grow out, and that contrast turns out to not be a good look for you, I'll give you at least a week to fix it before we mock you. 

- A full three weeks to pay back that $3.27 I lent you, before I start charging interest, which will only be a daily minimum of $5 so nothing to worry about. 

So lay off the friggin urchins you pricks. Dispirited feelings can be very dispiriting! Please note: if I miscalculated your feelings of dispirit towards sea urchins at any point in this blog them I am sorry, but if you didn't have any dispirit for me to bribe away please consider this list of generosity to unavailable to you. Oh and...

Alpha soul garbage heap! 

It Was A Magic Plastic Grocery Bag

It was a magic cheap plastic grocery bag. Fucking magic I tell you. 

'In what way was it magic'? I hear you ask. 

Well patience please you fucks, that's what I was about to explain. But also thank you, because of you jumping all over me just there, showing a complete lack of faith in my well known decree to never ever mention a magic plastic bag with no intention of telling you in what way it was magic, that's not who I am man, but you have inadvertently highlighted to me that yes it 'was' a magic plastic bag, but it also 'IS', cause this bag is so magic that no one has even chucked it out. And cheap plastic grocery bags get chucked out all the fucking time. 

'How the fuck was it magic?' I hear you ask. Well calm the fuck down. 

It's size was .... Regular. 

It's color was ....       Regular! 

It's shape was ......           REGULAR!

Well that's magic right there. Consistency is tough. Try being consistent on the golf course for example. It's difficult. 

'That's hardly fucking magic?' I hear you exclaiming. Well just to be consistent in these responses - shit the fuck up. (I meant to say 'shut' but spelled it wrong and now 'shit the fuck up is my new favorite term).

- Groceries sat in it with a delicate elegance that made even microwave Mac n Cheese feel important. 

- Its holes would let leafy stems of vegetables poke free, but yet never escape onto the filthy supermarket car park floor (occasionally filthy home kitchen floors).

- When bums concealed their booze in it to drink at bus stops, they rarely pissed their pants, and only occasionally told old ladies that they had a giraffe climbing out of their ear.

- It once held a wet t-shirt from the beach in the trunk of a car for six weeks and when it was discovered it didn't smell like a wet dead dog! (Only a wet maimed dog).

- Matt Damon's character in Goodwill Hunting was based on its theory that using grocery bags for garbage bags takes scientific knowledge of a variety of sizes of typical kitchen garbage cans.

- It supported an expanding exploration of space experience.

- Oh and it WAS the plastic bag in American Beauty. It got picked after a exhaustive auditioning process. I mean you try and find a plastic bag that can dance in the wind on demand! 

Yes, and I know, I have being using past tense. For you see it's retired now. To the rock n roll hall of fame. Well to be completely accurate it's knotted up inside a dead rock stars colon, after he ate it, knowing that every food item it had carried had been delicious, and he's being kept frozen in the hall's basement, in hope doctors may one day find a cure to having six completely melted vital internal organs, after he drank a bottle of drain fluid, knowing that every toilet it had gone done now flushed deliciously, they're hoping if he can come back alive he'll one day explain how he made G chords on the guitar sound so damn G. 

But I choose to not care if that wonderful G is ever heard again, no I have more romantic thoughts, the kind of romance that only exists when magic is present, yep instead just once more I'd like to get drunk at a bus stop without a goddman giraffe climbing out my ear! 

Why A Toothbrush Could Be Your New Best Friend

I know what you're thinking - your current best friend sucks. They're flakey, unreliable, sometimes say racist jokes in private that you laugh at, at the time, but you are a tad concerned that there is some truth behind what on the surface is merely enjoying the fact that with close friends you can be taboo just to be taboo, they don't like playing board games with you, board games like 'Taboo', and sometimes they're even undependable. 

Well I'm here to tell you that they don't need to be your best friend anymore, and your new best friend may be closer than you think! Please consider all these reasons why a toothbrush could be your new best friend: 

- Out of guilt you'll stop eating so much popcorn covered in overcooked chewy beef. 

- It'll never call you late at night to complain about its mother. 

- They come in a variety of colors. 

- Need to 'brush' up on your French? It won't help but it will help others deal with your frog breath.

- Not only are they not flakey but they can aid in the removal of flakes. 

- They PREFER if you've never won a plaque.

- They don't judge you if you sometimes have thoughts about how monkey sweat probably will ultimately never replace breakfast cereal as the preferred breakfast of 47.8% of western diners.

- Someone calling you 'soft'? Now you can say 'it's only cause I'm copying my best friend'. 

- Same thing if people have been cruelly calling you 'medium'. 

- They rarely breathe fire in your face. 

- It'll come in handy if you're ever in prison and forced to clean the mess hall with a toothbrush. 

- They're slightly better than a toilet brush! Well at least in three ways. 

1. Rarely in the toilet. 

2. Regularly in your mouth. 

3. Way better conversationalist. 

- And finally, obvious one, but still - their racist jokes will be so damn funny it'll be impossible NOT to forgive any underlying true feelings. 

So why not give your current best friend a call right now and tell them they suck balls, and are racist pieces of shit, then go tell your toothbrush 'you're not going in my mouth tonight, instead let's go play an exciting game of taboo'.

Things I'd rather do than other things

Today is the best day of my life people, and I'll tell you why - there are certain things in life... in fact, just to detour slightly, I think life is MOSLTY made up of things, sometimes people even say things like 'if it's not one thing it's another' which just proves my theory, that just about anything that is something to you is a thing and together those things make up EVERYTHING. There really should be a word that encapsulates all that. 

Which brings me to a new theory - there are certain things in life where the thing you want isn't one of the things that are available to you, and the things that are available are not necessarily the things that would be your first choice of things, which means sometimes you just have to play:

THINGS I'D RATHER DO THAN OTHER THINGS!

- I'd rather pretend to be a bulldog that's uncontrollably incensed in its anger, so much so that it's barking is out of control, it's teeth exposed, it's rabidness so intense that observers are sure it's been possessed by the devil all overflowing with a twenty hour growling tirade towards Mt Fuji... Than eat Mt Fuji. 

- I'd rather go into major debt, including selling my beloved rare

Oatmeal Cookie recipe collection, and sinking it all into opening a store that is dedicated, and steadfastly stubborn it it's unwavering commitment to selling nothing but pure, unsullied, direct from the factory dolls of the third lead character of the barely seen pilot for the ill-thought-out or researched cartoon from the nineteen eighties based on the board game 'Mouse Hunt', leading to having to deal with endless questions, including but not limited to - 'why'd you open this store', 'did this show even really exist?' and 'do you ever get in any Star Wars figures?' .... Than eat an Oatmeal Cookie.  

- I'd rather go to Saturn... Than eat Jupiter. 

Yep, sometimes in life there are things we'd like to do, but those things aren't available to us, and of the things that are available to us, sometimes we have to decide upon a thing that may not be appealing, but is at least better than one other thing. That's when we play: 

THINGS I'D RATHER DO THAN OTHER THINGS! 

I recommend playing yourself at home, unless there is a thing you'd RATHER do, in which case, congratulations - you've already played! 

Now THAT's Crazy AND Modern

In these crazy modern times, with all its crazy modern conveniences, crazy modern obstacles, crazy modern approach to human relations and crazy modern alternatives to traditional methods of persuading your average lost and frightened fruit bat to eat the fruit in your neighbors yard instead of your own, there is one thing you can be sure about - your life is crazy! No wait, there are two things you can be sure about - your life is crazy, and your life is modern! 

Consider these facts: 

1. Toasters.

2. Pot-Holes.

3. Friends With Benefits. 

4. High Frequency Ultrasonic Sound Expellers. 

That was a list of crazy modern elements that affect your current life, representing the following categories: 

A. Crazy Modern Convenience.

B. Crazy Modern Obstacle. 

C. Crazy Approach To Human Relations. 

D. Crazy Modern Alternatives To Traditional Methods Of Persuading Your Average Lost And Frightened Fruit Bat To Eat The Fruit In Your Neighbors Yard Instead Of Your Own. 

Can you match the number with its correct corresponding letter? Surprisingly 92.67% of people quizzed get this wrong. I'll give you just a minute or two to think about it. 

Ok, here are the correct answers. 

A. Matches with number 2. Pot-holes mean roads, roads mean cars, cars mean the ability to drive to your local science and gadget store which is full of the most brand new modern technology around, like spiders encased in glass, balls that if you touch make an beam of electricity come off your finger, and change sorters. 

B. Of course matches with 4. You're trying to escape prison, your plan is flawless, except for that loud supersonic ear piercing noise the alarm expels, that's an obstacle and a half.  

C. Obviously this one is 1. Toasters are obviously the hip relationship trend among kids, and a little seedy and sorted if you ask me, where you only kiss someone if they had toast for breakfast. Stop trying to grow up so fast kids, enjoy Fruit-Loops while you can! 

D. Leaves us with 3. A friend, who comes with the benefit of being able to guilt trip into standing in your yard with a broom scaring fruit bats off your citrus trees, and into your neighbors banana trees. 

If you failed that test then it's quite clear the craziness and modernness of your life has gotten crazily out of control, in a really modern way. 

But fear not. That why I am starting a new workshop to get you back to the raw place your body and soul THOUGHT it had evolved to be at, a time before ANYTHING was modern, and craziness was merely a barely touched excel spreadsheet on Einstein's MacBookPro. 

Welcome to HowlShop. A workshop where I'll teach you to howl the way you're supposed to, the way your ancestors on the Mayflower, First Fleet, St Augustian, Rugghlet or other very famous migratory ships did. 

I offer you this very, very exciting and very important guarantee - you'll turn your current:

'hoooooowwwwwlll'

Into a:

'HHOOOOOOOOWWWWLLLL'

Or your money back! 

Ok, I've just been informed that by mushing the words Howl and Workshop into one word 'HowlShop' I have used a crazy modern convenience, which is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I have failed you all. Sorry. 

Oh fuck, I've also just been informed that failure is a crazy modern obstacle. Shit. 

I feel like a scared and frightened fruit bat, who wants to come hit me with a broom? 

Social graces

I'm just going to say it - It's not ok to be gregarious just anywhere you know! 

And yes, I know you like being gregarious. It's part of who you are. It's the real you, at least in those moments, and no, I'm not suggesting for a minute that you're ONLY gregarious, but it is part of you. A wonderful part of you. 

At dinner parties, go for it. That's a perfect place to be gregarious. It's almost a requirement at dinner parties. If there wasn't any gregarity in the room the party would descend in to a pantomime of cold silence, before giving way to inhospitably or possibly even mild passive aggressiveness. No one wants that, believe me. 

I was once at a dinner party when the HOST was passive aggressive. Yes the host. It turned the serving of the mash potatoes from what would normally be one of the highlight of the whole food serving portion of the evening from being an haphazardness spooning of inconsistently random glory into something perhaps a tad awkward. And I'll just be harsh for a second, but I saw a guest later on that evening miming out a representation of the slight aggression they had witnessed in the spoonful lumped onto her husbands plate - in a mocking way! 

So, I'm definitely not saying don't be gregarious at dinner parties. Please BE gregarious at those. I'd hate to see you mocked with mocking mime one day. 

Not that you hold a monopoly on being gregarious either. If we're at a dinner party together we should BOTH be gregarious. That's only logical, polite and fair. And gregarity should always be distributed with the entire parties happiness taken into account. 

I'll be honest with you, you know the Georgians? You know how I say 'let's not invite them places, they aren't very gregarious' - well, yeah, ok I'll just say it - Candice is very gregarious, it's only Jeremy who isn't. And yet I've been giving them the same label. That's life motherfuckers. You form a couple then you get lumped in with the social graces, skills and failings of the whole package. 

I'd hate for either of us to suffer from wagging ears, and blushing souls caused by the other one of us lacking, or indeed exceeding our natural quota of any number of potential uses of social etiquette in regards to a whole manner of charms, gregarity being just one of them. 

Look, fuck, I said I'd just say it, and I will - your gregariousness sometimes comes off as mere chummy familiarity! 

Oh my god, it feels good to get that out. What a relief. Like a lifted weight. My god, I'd let that build up inside me for months, and now that it's out we can deal with it, accept it and move on. 

So that was it. Thanks. 

Oh and everyone knows you blew Donald in the laundry, we were watching on the security monitors, but no one cared, we're just not judgmental people. 

Revelation Engendering

'Before there can be light there must be darkness and before that there bust be light and before this light there must be even more darkness but before that chunks of cheese cake' She said. Upon the stone of revelation. 

So the legend was true, the stone did engender revelations. Great revelations! Revelations that revealed great truths. Truths about cheese cake for example. 

I had to try it myself. So I waited patiently for my turn. Hours passed. Long hours. For this was the stone of revelation, it didn't feel right to fuck around on my phone while waiting. And besides my phone was low on battery. Too many apps left on I think. Or maybe it's just time to update my phone. You know they purposely make your battery not last but not be swappable so you'll do that. It's really wasteful. Although you can recycle your old phone, but I never do, so I'm no better than the corporations who make them.  

Finally it was my turn. But I let a couple of people pass. I'd been struck, am I wasteful? I hardly ever boil my KFC bones to make soup, one time I used a girls name three times in one sentence but then when I ran into her again a few years later I couldn't remember her name, and another time I went to Disneyland and there were a couple of rides I couldn't be bothered to wait in line for because they were kids rides, maybe I AM wasteful. 

My turn came up once more, but I obviously needed more time to ponder this. I saw a man wearing a t-shirt once that bore the slogan 'Haste Not Waste' and then underneath, in smaller print to clearly indicate lesser importance it said 'that rhymes so you know it's smart'. At the time of seeing this I didn't think too much about it, because of the smaller print and all, but now it Struck me - 'Telephone Battery' rhymes with 'Fella Lone Hattery' - Guys with no friends that have turned their living room into a hat making studio often like chicken soup when they are sick with the flu - girls don't like it when you forget their names - therefore you don't impregnate them resulting in kids forcing you to wait in line for certain rides at Disneyland!

It all made sense. Too much sense,  almost as though I'd forced my examples to fit the theory I was trying to prove retroactively with clever connection grabbing. But that's silly, that would undermine the entire philosophical journey towards discovery I had found myself on. And I wanted to overmine this shit, mine it all the way to revelation! 

I let a few more people pass. I'd forgotten what I was even in line for, I was too focused on engendering a revelation. But I was lost. I'd hit a dead-end. I even tried to use retroactive connection grabbing, but the best I could come up with was discovering that you can overuse apps, you can overwear caps but you can't put a cap on an app, unless it's a financial cap, which would be a good idea if you have kids with access to smartphones, but no one has kids anymore because of the name forgetting thing. 

It was futile. The track had led to a river without a bridge, and no lifeguard so swimming would be too dangerous. Ah man. Fuck! I never get to have a fucking revelation. These are fucking hard. I'm just a man for fuck's sake. There should be like a rock or something that makes it easier. Damn it. Boo! Its not fair. How come everyone but me gets revelations? And how come everyone but me gets delicious chunks of cheese cake? 

  

The Dance Of The Dying Cockroach

I made a super beautiful short film to highlight the sweet fragility of the sadness and yet optimistic sentimentality life's final breaths of life can engender.

The Dance Of The Dying Cockroach