Prance Sweat

You know what I just realized, I'm regularly hot. You may even say that I am often hot. I'll be hot seven or eight times a month usually. Once I was hot seventeen times in a month, and it wasn't even a 31 day month, it was a 30, which is technically the most boring lengthed month, it's short, but not uniquely short, yet I pulled off the most unique thing ever, a seventeen hot month! That's phenomenal! 

So let's be clear here - have I ever been hot? 

Yes! 

I have. 

Sometimes multiple times a month. 

And I've been to trot. How could you not want be to trot? Being to trot is like being at the beach and not being looking for shells, or being in the county side and not be seeking out wells, or being playing poker and not unearthing for tells, or being in a church tower and not being searching for tits. It not possible. Yet with trot desire, you don't even need to be at a beach, county side, gambling den or church, because in a world where to trot is available, EVERYWHERE is a church tower full of sand with deep holes bored in them in search of water full of gamblers. Because trotting is like a fancy way of walking fast!

Let's look at that in another way.

Want to get somewhere? Of course you do, where you currently are sucks.

Want to get there fast? Of course you do? Where you currently are SUCKS, get somewhere else as fast as humanly possible! 

Want to be boring on the way to get there? Um, seriously? You're leaving somewhere that sucks, and you're going to be boring in transit? That's the fastest way to have the new place reject your ass like a gargantuan gorilla rejects a Volkswagen hoping to move into its back hair. 

So let's take stock here.

Have I been hot? You're god damn right I have. At least thirty times! 

Have I been to trot? Does it suck where I am? You're god damn right it does, always, and I want to finally be accepted wherever I go next, so I'm getting there fancy walk style for SURE! 

Which brings me to my main point today - have I ever been... Hot to trot?

Wow. 

That's a HUGE question.

Fucking HUGE! 

Wow.

Almost mind blowing.

Almost.

Which is just another way of saying 'not mind blowing'.

I mean seriously.

Stop sensationalizing shit you stink snatch! 

Yet still.

Wow.

Have I ever been hot to trot?

Me????

I should answer this.

Because I raised the question.

So it's my responsibility to answer. 

And the answer is...

No I haven't.

I've never been hot to trot.

And I don't care.

Cause that sounds shit.

So to sum up:

I HAVE been hot.

I HAVE been to trot.

I have NOT been hot to trot.

I think the lesson is clear - if your Voltwagen is missing, stop freaking complaining, it's probably just in the back hair of the local gorilla. I mean 'duh'. 

Cracked ascendancy - a poem

Alan decided to to make eggs for breakfast.

It was a bold, ballsy, bithchin', badass, brash, and possibly even foolishly preposterous decision. 

Mostly because he didn't have any eggs. 

But in a lesser way, yet still slightly relevant way, also because: 

- He didn't have any money to buy eggs.

- Or a stove or any other cooking equipment to cook things on. 

- Or any idea what cooking equipment even was.

- Or any thumbs.

- Or any other hand parts.

- Or any wrists.

- Or any idea why he didn't have these parts.

- Or any ability for rational thought.

- Or any ability for fanciful thought. 

- Or thoughts about the nature and importance of ecosystems to maintain a harmonious, if not occasionally brutal, balance between all living things and their environments.

- Or any opinions on any of the currently most debated subjects in the news and pop-culture, including but not limited to, thoughts on social responsibility for social people to give back to societies, or even whether that new bridge should be built or not.

- Or a natural feel for body language and subtle facial hints.

- Or a grandiose philosophy of why when cream cheese sales rise the political landscape will often meet a simultaneous period of conflict. 

- Or any clarity to his recent conundrum in explaining to his curious child exactly why landscape painters are so focused on rural landscapes, even though urban landscapes are often closer physically to where their favorite multiplex cinemas are.

- Or any natural intuition into why accidental physical contact with a stranger can lead to sustained feelings of energy transference and mental fortress building.

- Or any hair bristling psychic revelations about how to create a new system of ascendancy that would eradicate all need for current stairs, escalators or even elevators! And this one really bothered him because he HATED stairs, escalators and elevators. They are so obsessed with minor changes in altitude, 'sometimes staying horizontally consistent is okay you dick!' He'd scream often. 

'Yep, if I had eggs, I'd totally make eggs right now' Alan thought. 

Then like a basket of trinkets, spilled over a bed of photos of broken tractor parts, rusted to the sounds of industrial music, reinterpreted as flute opera, a monkey climbed Alan and ate one of his kids.

It was a tough day to be a banana tree. 

In the beholder - a poem

Jeremy took out his left eye, Roger, and hid it on top of the medicine cabinet.

Jeremy was hoping to use Roger to catch a look at his roommate, Kathy, in the nude.

But when Roger saw Kathy getting ready for work,

Plucking eyebrows...

Wielding eyelash curlers...

Administering mascaras...

Squirting eye-drops to remove hang-over blood shots...

Squishing in contacts...

Swearing bloody murder at how hard it was to get contacts in, without once blaming her eyes themselves for said trouble, which would have been easy to do, believe me...

And gently dabbing on eye shadow...

All to make her eyes look the best they could.

Well it made Roger feel sad...

And unloved...

And lonely...

And removed...

And scarred...

And misplaced...

And disenfranchised...

And desolate...

And unsalitatiable...

Although it wasn't really sure what 'unsalitatiable' meant.

Which made it feel stupid...

And uneducated...

And ignorant...

And re-disenfranchised...

And despondent...

And devoid from the loop center...

And out of sync with the rhythm of the cosmos...

And cocooned in a sorrow of insulation...

And cracked under a weight of feathers made from the heaviest malnourishment known to the unknowing lord of dumb...

Even though technically 'unsalitatiable' isn't even a word. 

So it dove into the toilet to commit suicide.

As the splash bounced around the porcelain, Roger felt awash...

With toilet water...

And regret...

And misinformation...

And overuse of ellipse...

And overwrought hairbrainedness...  

And fear of what was next to it...

Physically I mean...

I mean...

Ewwww, what else would be in a toilet bowl...

Gross....

Roger thought with an ewwwww on his breath...

Even thigh technically it didn't have lungs...

Making him feel like a liar...

And yet making him feel like he was about to suffocate to death...

Which proved he was NOT a liar...

Yet still an unhappy...

Sad...

Morose...

Broken...

Lost...

Forgotten loser...

Who was about to die from a FAILED suicide attempt...

And it was right then...

In that moment...

That he met a goldfish, named Jill, who had been dumped in the

toilet earlier...

While it was trying to have an, admittedly, poorly timed, and extremely deep nap. 

And Roger and Jill fell in love.

And got married.

With a generous, and very wet, toilet paper tube acting as celebrant. 

And somehow they had twenty seven kids over the next three weeks, despite Roger not technically possessing any sort of genitals. 

The end.

Jeremy went on to have his other eye eaten out by a rat, which proceeded to move into his skull. 

Kathy met a guy who said he fell in love with her 'when I saw your eyes'.

She has no idea that he actually meant the eye shaped orange 'bugs' with phenomenal emotional depth that live behind her toilet. 

But 'meh' it's still better than having your creepy roommate see you naked. 

Key chain

If you ask me, and you should, almost anything would be better if a key and lock were involved. 

Consider this list of normal everyday topics that one may discuss at a dinner party, or when visiting dignitaries, or when trying to look like you're at the beach for anything other than to try and spot people who should get a mole check, as a public service, yet secretly mostly because you have a weird fetish: 

- Grandpa

- Christmas 

- Porn 

- A Toaster

- Racism

- Girlfriends 

- Eating spiders 

- Star wars

- Synonyms for vagina

- Goat facts 

It's a fine list sure, but it's not an exciting list. I mean it will increase your pulse rate, especially if it were recited in deep booming voice at random right into your ear, art the exact moment you were about to bite into a three scoop ice-cream cone, but even then it will only increase that beat by barely six or seven beats a minute, and that's almost not even enough to justify calling into work sick siting minor stroke as your ailment! 

But now consider that very same list, but now with more information added to each topic, and with that information always including at least some reference to keys, locks and/ or keys and/ or locks. 

- Grandpa: Imagine if your Grandpa was locked inside something, and it took some sort of a key to get him out? You'd probably spend so much time pretending to find the person who put him in there, that you'd never have time to pretend you want to visit him, which means you'd never get to use your awesome pretend you lost the key mime!

- Christmas: Here's a fun thing to do at Christmas, break into a house, unwrap the kid's presents, then wrap them in a metal mesh padlocked cover, then wrap them up in the original wrapping again, then on your way out make sure the dad didn't get bolt cutters for a gift, and if he did steal them, and probably call the cops on him (he was probably going to use those to steal things! That bastard), then sit at the window and wait for the fun...

'Seriously Dad, really funny, unlock these!'

'I'm telling you, I didn't it, I don't know what this is!' 

'It's not fucking funny dad, open them up'

'I can't, I can't, what's going on, I have no idea what's going on?'

'STOP IT! You're not fooling anyone Dad, OPEN THE FUCKING PRESENTS!' 

The fun would go on for hours and hours, and possibly even HOURS! Depending on the kids access to weapons. 

- Porn: Remove a man's penis and replace it with a lock, remove a woman's vagina and replace it with a key, make a porn, then everyone watching will be like 'the other way round would have made more logical sense'. And logical is a word that's pleasing to the ear, YOUR ear. 

 

- Toasted: Throw a toaster off a building for fun, if you forget to unplug it first and it had just been cooking toast on high, and it bounces back and smacks you in the head and burns your face it'll 'unlock' the information to you that your chord is way too bouncy.

- Racism: Lock up all racists in a huge pubic cage. Then when people go to taunt and abuse them, lock those people up for letting hate breed hate. Then you know that comphy chair at your favorite cafe you never get to sit in? Well almost everyone is a giant cage now, including the owners of that cafe, so it's not open anymore, that backfired didn't it, yet frontfiring is the direction that hurts other people, and your didn't do that, so good for you. 

- Girlfriend: Get a girlfriend or a boyfriend. Wait, it was that easy for you? Fuck you! I know who's house I'm visiting at Christmas in fourteen years, depending on how it works out, your respective stances on child baring, fertility levels, consistency on living locations, and window lock installation skills, my god that's going to be a lot of work for me to keep a track of, I hate lots of work, fuck you! 

- Eating spiders: They say on average every person eats something like eighteen spider in their sleep in their lifetime, but if you pick the lock on people's mouth locks, and jam them full of spiders they'll eat MORE than average, and you may only have to eat six or seven spiders! 

- Star Wars: Put a lock on the Millennium falcon,

seriously, have some fucking pride! 

- Synonyms for vagina: Well if you think I'm going to get all crass and say something like 'a pussy is like a safe, cause I'd like to bust it open' then you're sadly mistaken, I'd NEVER say something like that, EVER! 

- Fun Goat fact: goats make awful safes, I once tried to hide ten thousand dollars cash in a goats stomach and the greedy bastard used stomach acid to break it down and turn it into fuel and energy! 

See! Say all that in conversation and now you don't even have to call in sick, the hospital will notify next of kin of your passing due to total heart failure, which will ultimately make its way to a cryptic Facebook post referencing missing you, which your co-workers will pass off as a joke for at least three weeks, until your absence is finally also NOTICED, and you'll be able to escape to the Caribbean and live freely on your life insurance pay out, as long as you survive the actual heart attack you had, but only come to in the morgue, and nick out of there moments before several corpses are stolen, and also as long as your aware that you will no longer be able to partake in your sick mole fetish (the moles themselves are sick, not your fetish) as any future sexual arousal will be far too much for your heart to take, so you'll have to mostly spend your time in the Caribbean enjoying their many famous activities away from the sun and beach. 

Yep, adding keys, locks, and/or keys and/or locks is awesome! 

Rising high!

You know what would be ace? Like really ace? Being a builder! And I'll tell you why, if you become a builder, and work on building things such as buildings, one day you could purposely build a house with a flaw in the floor, and then you'd get to have this experience:

Two people, standing looking at the floor, one of them looks like a builder, because he or she IS a builder, and that builder is YOU! 

'So I see what's going on here, seems you have a flaw' says the builder, and remember this is YOU! How ace is that. 

'Of course it's a fucking floor' says the other person, this is NOT you, it can't be, because you're the builder, which is the other person, how ace does that sound?

'Did you not want a flaw?' Says the builder, which again, is you, wow, you're really doing it, this isn't just a job anymore, it's who you are! 

'Of course I wanted a fucking floor!' Says the other person, wow, they're cranky, they should have become a builder, then, like you, they'd be ace.

'So... You wanted a flaw?' You could confirm, wow, confirming has the word 'firm' in it, that's just like your handshake, at least your new handshake after your hands have gotten all strong from building stuff, stuff like buildings, because you're now a builder! 

'It's a twelve story building, I wanted a lot of fucking floors!' Says cranky pants, if you have a lolly you should consider giving it to him. But you don't because you're a builder, why would a builder have a lolly? So instead you say...

'Woah woah woah, I'm a professional builder here, I may make the odd flaw, but I sure as hell don't make a lot of flaws' wow, remember that time in your old job, when you spent half a day thinking of a way to convince Janette at reception to eat her lunch in the park so you could fill her desk drawers with shaving cream, and your boss caught you and said 'that's so unprofessional? Well hey that boss, suck on this, you just called YOURSELF professional! How'd did you turn your life around? Easy, you became a builder! It's so ace.

'Well I hate to tell you buddy, but you've built fucking floors on every level' oh cranky face, cheer up, just because you're not a builder doesn't mean you HAVE to be cranky.

'You take that back, I built one flaw, and that was intentional, but I did not put flaws on every level' look at you, defending your work and standards of excellence, it's so ace what you've become, and in sport defense is the best way to defend stuff, other than attack, you're winning the game! 

'Well what the fuck are we standing on, looks like a floor to me' now he's getting it, he's seen what you wanted him to see, about time, it's been right in front of him the whole time.

'Exactly, there's a flaw right there' wow, that's direct to the point, remember when your mother told you it was rude to point, well now that kid with the giant birthmark on his tongue, that made it impossible to fit in his mouth, rendering him a constant panter, is no longer allowed to cry, because you're pointing for good! 

'And you're telling me that if we stood in this same fucking spot one level up there wouldn't be a floor?' What a cranky idiot, you've just pointed at the flaw, and now he wants to go look at a floor? 

'Exactly, no flaws up there' you say, and how ace, you've used the word 'no' for good, take that the guy who stole your car even though you said 'no' he couldn't have it. 

Cut to two minutes later in the same spot one level up, two people are standing looking at the floor, one of them is a builder, and that one is you! How ace. 

'Alright, so you're telling me that's not a fucking floor?' Says crank head, this is a perfect floor, why would it have a flaw. 

'Absolutely, not a hint of a flaw there' hint is a fun word to say, consider these three fun sentences 1. 'I'll give you a hint, it's not glue' 2. 'I'd like to by a hint please, oh wait, are they're pronounced hint or hornet?' 3. 'Hint hint, wink wink'. Wow, now you're using words that could get someone something devoid of glue, you're getting a hornet and you're even allowing people to say things they could physically do instead! Yay. 

'So if it's not a floor then what fucking is it?' This cranky tits sure is dumb.

'It's just a floor, are you a moron?' Ace, you called someone a moron, a moron would never be able to spot a moron, that means you're not a moron! And how could you have been, because you're a builder! 

Next you'd get to see someone rip out there own hair, kick over a bucket, then head butt a wall, which would hurt, cause it's a strong wall, there's no flaw in the wall. 

So there you go, become a builder, and specifically a builder who builds things like buildings. As far as I can tell there are only three flaws in this plan:

1. You'd have to pretend you'd never heard of the 'who's on first' comedy routine.

2. You'd have to build stuff, which looks hard.

3. You might have someone tell you these flaws, then due to an easy to mistake language confusion, you may try and stand on this list, almost certainly causing you to fall to your death. 

But other than that it's nothing but awesome stuff, how ace! But now also consider this, if you choose NOT to become a builder, you probably have a lolly, it's the world's best win-win! 

I well carry you

Well I’ll tell you this - people, that is people that matter; by which I mean people who know me, well they know stuff about me. And one of those stuffs is that I do not use forklifts very often. Not very often AT ALL!

In fact I barely use forklifts more than eight or nine times a month, maybe ten during mating season. But if you need more evidence of this fact, just to satisfy your own personal standard for truth sourcing, consider this conversation:

Bill – Well I know Dave very well, and I can attest to this forklift stat.
Dave - Well I wouldn't say very well, we're acquaintances, see each other maybe four or five times a year?
Bill - Well ok, but we know each other well enough for me to come onto your blog.
Dave - Well I should point out, to both you Bill, and the readers, that you just barged into this blog without an invite.
Bill – Well yeah, to help you out.
Dave - Well, more like for an opportunity to use the word 'attest', and while it was complimentary, or supportive at least, the readers may not know, but you and I both know, that 'attest' is a word you enjoy using, and often times will use it even when it is not pertinent to the point, like during your wedding vows.
Bill - Well I disagree, ‘attest’ was perfectly pertinent during my wedding vows!
Dave - Well let me remind you, you said, and I quote, 'I can attest to my wife's, wait is she my wife yet, no she isn't, um, fuck, I can attest to what this lady here just said, I attest all fucking over it'.
Bill - Well yeah, and I could, I DID, I was backing up her vows, those bad boys deserved attesting.
Dave – Well, but that's not normal.
Bill – Well um, she said in sickness and in health, I get sick ALL THE TIME, and that’s not normal, and she still hangs out with me, and even hands my tissues and stuff, so I was backing her up.
Dave - Well um no, you were sneaking the word fucking 'attest' in because you love saying 'attest', that was your motivation, the rest, while possibly pertinent, is not relevant!
Bill - Well how about this, if I were saying 'attest' about you the 'f' wouldn't be silent!
Dave – Well, fuck you, and that only really works in a written form, I mean when said out loud those two words aren't UN-rhyming, but you'd have to say one weird, where as in a written form it's a solid, if not steal firm, burn, and this IS a written form, so well done you.
Bill - Well I can definitely attest to that!
Dave - Ha ha, I see what you did there.
Bill - No no no, this is a written form, you READ what I did there!
Dave - ha ha!
Bill - HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
Dave - HA HA HA HA AAAAGHHA AHHHHHAAAAGHA!

Bill – Ha…. Ha…. HHHHHHAAAAGGHHHHG!

Dave – H.h.h.h.h.h..hHHHHHHHHHHHHaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Bill – Hooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhooooouugghhhh ha haha!

Dave – Huuuuuaaahhh ha ha ha ha ha ah ha ahahhhhhahhhahhshhhhhhghh ha ha HA HA HA!
Bill - I feel like during this epic laughter we've forgotten something about some element of our speech pattern that we had going?
Dave – Well, you may be right, but well shoot, we can't well remember it now can we? Ahhhh well.

So I think based on this conversation between my good acquaintance Bill and I, you can see for sure that the use of forklifts is not something that dominates my life, at least in any significant way, except maybe during mating season.

That's why I hope, nay need, for you to believe the issue I am about to raise is not being raised here out of a personal need, or even a desire, but out of pure heartfelt need, and desire, for a sad story to come to an end, preferably with less sadness than currently is at play.

Every year more and more families find that their giant industrial sized drivable cutlery and other kitchen utensils drawers are missing items. That is the cutlery and other kitchen utensils are drivable, not the drawers themselves, because that would be stupid, why would a drawer drive? It's job is to have shit in it, how would getting somewhere else help. So yeah, the cutlery and other kitchen utensils are lacking, not the drawer, we're not talking stupid stuff here today, this story is too sad.

Yes, these family’s drawers sure do have lots of forklifts. Yet the other slots in the separator thingy are empty. That's right, there are blank slots where the should be the following:

- Spoonlifts
- Knifeliftz
- Saladtonglifts
- Bottleopenerlifts
- Garlicpresslifts
- Spatularlifts
- Melonballinglifts
- Chopsticklifts
- Potatopeelerlifts
- Cheesegraterlifts and even....
- Cigarettelighterswhichareactuallysupposedtogoonedrawdownbutwereputherebyalazypricklifts 



And these are poor families that live in tiny homes, sometimes sleeping four or five kids per closet, while their ginormous industrial sized drivable cutlery and other kitchen utensils drawers are mostly empty. And again, it's the cutlery and other kitchen utensils that are drivable, not the drawers, as that would be stupid,  and we're not doing stupid here today. Not even a hint of it.

Why is this sadness going on? Because drivable cutlery and other kitchen utensils of types other than forks have not yet been invented yet! (Well there are giant knives, but Knights keep stealing them to fight dragons, and they sell the drivable parts to Witches to attach to their brooms to make THEM drivable. But why not a drivable olive-oil brush you motherfuckers!!! Or ‘Abrushlifts’?)

So this holiday season, don't FEED needy people, be nice instead, and invent drivable cutlery and other kitchen utensil lifts, if you need more proof this is a smart idea consider this conversation:

Bill - Well that's actually a really dumb idea Dave, if someone makes a giant drivable cheese grater, or a Cheesegraterlift, they'll use it to grate things other than cheese you know, like people's elbows when they take up too much of their share of the shared arm rest, or people who make bird noises to get your attention, or even people who go 'ahhhhh' when they're peeing in public bathrooms, um, wait a second, they'll grate THOSE people? This is a GENIUS idea!
Dave - Well it sure is Bill.
Bill - HA HA
Dave - HA HA HA HA HA HA
Bill - HA HA AGGHAAHAHAHAHA

Dave – Ha aha aha haha haha ha

Bill - HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
Dave - HA HA HA HA AAAAGHHA AHHHHHAAAAGHA!

Bill – Ha…. Ha…. HHHHHHAAAAGGHHHHG!

Dave – H.h.h.h.h.h..hHHHHHHHHHHHHaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Bill – Hooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhooooouugghhhh ha haha!
DAVE - Ahhhhh, well.
Bill - Well.
Dave - Well said.

Bill – I can attest to that.

Loose - a poem

Peter, a stationary store owner with a back problem, was struggling, and upset, because his masseuse couldn't seem to ever work out all his knots.

One day he came up with a genius idea.

'If I take my skeleton out she'll be able kneed deeper than ever before!'

He whipped it out, drove down to the spa, and spent an hour and a half in massage bliss.

When he got home his wife was furious at him. 

'Is this because while I was getting massaged I now only had one hard part of my body?' He asked.

'No, it's because you left your skeleton in the dishwasher for ME to unload, you know I hate that!'

Then she processed the new information he had given her.

He spent the next seven nights sleeping hanging from a hat rack as punishment.

Tidal

Here’s some advice: Never walk away from a moon fight.

Now I know what you’re thinking: ‘moons don’t have arms, which means their punches will be more like belly jams, and jam tastes like the fruit it was made from, and making things is damn near like witchcraft you physco’

Um, ‘Moons don’t have arms’ – Um, how do you know they don’t have arms? Oh you know every moon do you? Sure the moon that the earth keeps as a pet has no arms, but that just makes the earth loyal and progressive, like that guy that lives at the beach with the three-legged one-eyed dog. Sure it probably lost those two physical parts of itself in a fight with a weird sea-creature, that lives in an abandoned 1968 Volkswagen Beatle that was dumped into the ocean by a heart broken former owner who was just broken up with by a girl named Vicky Wagner, who liked to write letters and sign them with her initials within in a heart, which then had a thought bubble that said ‘wow, VW, like the car, I never noticed that before’ and then had an arrow pointing at the thought bubble with the words ‘I could have saved space had I just written B4’ written next to it, and then had an arrow pointing at this sentence with the words ‘or just skipped this’ written next to it, and that the man at the beach refuses to tell the world that the sea-creature exists, for fear that it will next attack specifically to take him out, and at night when he’s typically debating the institutionalized nature of worm farms, so he’s not paying attention, and because he’s German and is sick of them looking bad in the media, and that if he wasn’t so concerned with his debates, and just moved to the park next to the beach like a normal person, then his dog would never have had to protect him from attacks from the sea, but you still like him, because he kept the dog, so maybe OTHER moons had arms, but just lost them protecting people from sea attacks. I mean every moon has a stupid, arrogant, always smiling face; surely some of them develop arms to punch that! That’s just logic.

Oh and don’t bash belly jams, fruit jams are too seedy, and who wants to eat something seedy, other than TV chefs, and they always wear jackets that button up funny, and buttons can get in kids throats and choke them to death damn it!

Oh, and um, it’s spelled - Phyco, physco, phscho, fuck, sych, holy shit… psycho! There I did it, so fuck you!

The point is, never walk away from a moon fight, or else the sea-creatures win, which they will eventually anyway, I blame Vicky Wagner, what a fucking space waster.

Thank all over this bitch

Today is Thanksgiving, somewhere or something, and apparently that's about giving thanks, something I'm an EXPERT at. 

Now I'm no expert in thanks, nor gratitude, ESPECIALLY gratitude, if I'm honest, because I like to shorten it to 'tude', to be fun and playful, and yet when I say 'hey bra, let me peg some tude in your face, just spit tude right at ya, I want to fucking decimate you with my my fat fucking tude', the people I say it to never seem to enjoy it. And this pissed me off.

'What'd you say dude?' They'll reply. 

'Fuck man, I hit you with some tude dude, wrung a wet towel load of it right on your forehead, you're not gonna say thanks?' I'll say, and then fisticuffs break out, and I don't care for that, who wants brain fragments on their knuckles?  

Thanks is no better either, if I'm honest. I tried to give thanks to Calligraphy once, you know for no longer being the communication choice of choice, for the bad egg kids to pass notes around in class, but that didn't work either, and it pissed me off.

'You calling me obsolete dude?' it replied.

'Fuck man, nah I just hit you with some thanks for not holding onto your grip of the bad eggs in their pursuit of meaningful communication in a world quietly retreating from real connection into the cold and metallic weak arms of technology, and I'm hitting you with thanks right in your unnecessarily fancy, flourishingly decorative, free-flowing, fornicationally, fucking face till your eyes are bleeding' and then fisticuffs broke out, and trust me, washing pen ink of your knuckles is even harder than brain. 

So yeah, thanks and gratitude, not my thing. My things are:

- Bitterness 

- Resentment

- Rankerment

- Raw ankle meat 

- Uncooked cookware, with soy 

- Umbrage 

- Underaged leather straps to strap down overaged ankle picklers

- Rage 

- Vehemence

- Having a thesaurus on my phone 

- Extending lists past their usefulness 

- Forgetting what the point of today's blog was 

- Vengeance 

- Oh that's right, giving thanks 

- Alright, so time to end this list now 

- Hey fuck you, you don't tell me when to end shit, I tell YOU when to end shit

- Ah man, now we're gonna have fisticuffs, and punching lists always ends up with list spleen getting on my knuckles. 

But today is Thanksgiving, so instead of getting all negative, I'm going to be thankful, here's a list of things to be thankful for that I prepared earlier: 

- 'Hieroglyphics' Because the Hieroglyphic's symbol for the word 'Hieroglyphic' itself is a man standing in front of an ox, ha ha, what an idiot! Who stands in FRONT of an ox, you have to stand beside it so it considers you an equal and doesn't try to fornicate with your mule. Man, the Hieroglyphite people sure had an awesome sense of humor. 

- 'Standing beside' for being a stand up guy, unlike 'standing up', who's always siding with the underbelly, and forcing sleeping dogs to lie, leading low down dirty stomach itches.

- 'Dirt' for being great to have on a foe, especially in the middle of a dirt fight.

- 'Being' for being the world's only 'ing' word to have a scent, I mean the scent is burnt back hair, but at least it's trying stuff! Not like 'heaving', the lazy bitch.

- 'Hair' for looking great on heads of all sorts, but particularly on head of states, and particularly on the heads of their penises. 

- 'States' for having wonderfully lubricant bone marrow, making it one of the easiest things known to man to wash off your knuckles. 

Happy thanks everyone. 

Guest blogger - old salty

The name's old salty, although I'm not sure why people call me that, it could be my rich salt colored hair, or the fact my diet consists of nothing but stolen fast-food restaurant salt sachets, or maybe it's because when I meet people and they ask for my name I say 'just call me old salty', it's hard to tell really, and I don't go around asking people, that would be stupid, and take up way too much time, time I need to steal salt. 

I'm a stock broker by trade, what? What did you think I was going to say, that I run salt mines? Are you daft, daft in the face, like a daft person?Why would I have to fucking steal salt if I RAN salt mines?

'Well why do you have to steal salt if you're a stock broker?' I hear you ask.

And I'm glad you asked - because it lets me sing this song, my favorite song in the world...

My purchases in stocks

That were stocks in companies 

That own stocks in others companies

That own salt mines

Didn't do well financially

Costing me money financially 

Which was money I wanted financially

Now it's no longer mine 

I should point out that my favorite song is a song I don't like one little bit, I fucking hate songs, I HATE them, why do people play them

all the time? Even at their best the rhymes are poor, and the themes bring up really fucking bad memories. Stop fucking playing music you dicks, don't make me do what I always do, SQUEEZE YOU SO FUCKING HARD THAT YOUR HEART SLOWLY HARDENS IN THE ARTERY AREAS AND IF YOU DONT GET MEDICAL AND LIFESTYLE ATTENTION IN THE FORM OF DRUGS, EXERCISE AND DIET CONTROL YOU'LL DIE!!! 

Oh wait, maybe that's why they call me old salty, because I fuck up hearts like salt. Sweet, today was fun, thanks for letting me blog Dave, and now that I'm done I can go have some delicious salt sachets, awesome day.  

Three fingers

Blake held up three fingers.

That's when it suddenly hit him, and let's be real, being hit is mean, and occasionally painful, and often even uncalled for, so it's not nothing that he was hit with the following... 

'Oh no, I don't have ANYTHING to say, let alone THREE things!' 

Then he thought...

'"Let alone?" What the fuck is that? Where does being alone come into this, that's just fucking dumb'.

Then he thought...

'Oh fuck, pretend I never thought it, cover it up, think something smart, um, science, math, geology, pathology, wait is that when you're a pathological liar? Fuck, that's what I think when I try to think something smart? Am I a total moron? Nah, I'm cool. Why else would I be holding up three fingers again, oh shit, I don't even ANYTHING to say, let alone THREE things!' 

Scrambling as fast as his mind could scramble he scrambled through his mind for something interesting and important, and luckily for him he came up with the following...

'Ive got three things to say to you! Number one, have you ever scrambled for something? Wow, I bet that would be cool. They could call it a scrambler, a scamblation, or like scrabbled eggs, that would TOTALLY become good, especially if you could do it without eggs! You know what? Plenty of fucking ancient societies had no eggs, and they all turned out fine! Oh oh oh, number two schools shouldn't teach people about Prussia AND Russia in the same semester, I mean what the fuck, it is TOO damn confusing to minds that young, they're just children for fuck's sake, and trust me, oh yes you can trust this, those minds, the minds of those kids, well they are NOT focused purely on what the teacher's saying, trust me, oh also which one was Prussia again? I never remember, oh oh oh, number three, imagine if you could go back and watch a movie of the daydreams you had in history class when you were a kid, it would probably be really, really weird, and weird shit is always cool, unless it's weird in a bad way, which it normally is, I mean spiders with tongues instead of eyes, harpoons designed to shoot fine art made out of nose hairs, skies made out of worn out wheel chair rubber, all super weird shit, and all weird in a bad way, except the spiders, you could totally practice making out with them!'

He was quite pleased with this.

Especially given the circumstances.

And circumstances are like circuits making a stance, and you have to admire that. 

Yet, YET, and here is where this story gets sad, the bastard that he said all this too STILL mugged him.

And he even took his shoes despite saying 'they're clearly not even my size, but that's for bad mouthing Prussia dick'.

Then it turned out scrambled eggs were ALREADY a thing.

Yep it was a shit day for Blake. 

But his making out skills soon improved, so it wasn't a total loss. 

Positively first lick!

Time for bold statement. Which is hard, because boldness is merely a feeling, and you can't tell people how to 'feel', unless of course you touch the back of their knee with a feather and then tell them that you plucked it from the bird with your eyelids, in which case you're telling them to feel 'subject to speculation derived from a curiosity into the various moving parts in regard to eyelid operation, while matched with standard levels of skill and ability of said body part, mixed with a shiver of creepiness from both the mental image and the back of the knee tickling, leading to uncomfortable levels of uncomfortablity, which in your defense would be even far worse if they knew you'd actually plucked the feather with your genitalia' and I only like making people feel like that when I'm discussing politics, which I am not today, because today I'm talking about something actually important, which is that...

Cake makes a poor hat, yet a unique hat, and I'd rather be unique than poor, therefore I want to make and wear a cake a hat forever!!! Weeee. 

Of course there are some cons to this plan, but then there are also some pros, and I normally prefer to deal with amateurs and non-criminals, so here is a classic list of positive and negative points of wearing a cake as a hat. 

Positive - Some people like hats, they put them on their heads, they hold them in their hands, they use them as frisbees, they rescue small sick and injured woodland creatures in them, they get naked and cover their genitals with them, and then say things like 'you're having a bad hair day, wanna borrow my hat' and their partners are all like 'that's cruel you dick, I mean I wanted to look at your genitals, but why do I have to get insulted to see them?' and they reply 'because I look great naked, and you look great in hats' and they say 'so I DON'T look great naked?' And they they reply 'yeah you do' and then they both get naked, and some people even sometimes use them to keep sun off their face! 

Negative - Some people DON'T like hats. 

Positive - Some people like cake. They eat it with their faces, they share it at parties, they put it on their knife wounds, they use it as bait to catch up on television shows they haven't watched for a while, some of them even eat it with their mouths. 

Negative - Some people don't like cake! 

Positive - Some people like cake hats, lots of people! 

Negative - some people don't like cake hats. 

Positive - They look cool. 

Negative - You don't want to make people think your head is their birthday party, they'll complain that you didn't get presents, that there's no music, and that there is hair in their cake, you're ruining people's birthdays dick. 

Positive - You get to be the center of attention, especially around cake, hat or cake hat enthusiasts! 

Negative - If your head is the cake that'd make your body the tray! And Tre is the name of a character from the movie Boyz n the Hood, and that characters best friend got SHOT! 

Positive - You can challenge people, fearlessly, FEARLESSLY to do super cool stuff by saying 

'If you do that I'll eat my hat!' I'm talking Fearlessly, FEARLESSLY!! Because your hat would be delicious. And I'm talking about challenging people to do super cool stuff such as 

- Jump off that cliff

- smile at that dragon

- lick that lightening bolt

- Eat a bag of owl beaks 

- Solve a blank Rubik's cube with your imagination

- Glue a Lego to your tongue then give oral sex to a Lego batman and yet try to not get your tongue stuck 

- Shovel a bag of shovels into another bag of shovels without touching a single shovel 

- Saying fearlessly, without doubling it up by following it with FEARLESSLY. 

Negative - But then your friends will get to lick all the best lightening first! Eww, who wants to lick USED lightening?

Positive - I do! It'd be like licking my friends tongue and feeling sparks, which is how I image love and intimacy might feel. 

Negative - You've never felt love or intimacy? 

Positive - No, have you? 

Negative - Of course. 

Positive - That's bullshit, I'm WAY more positive than you, I should getting fucking love and intimacy.  

Negative - Well I've had tons, and get this, because I'm negative I get to also say 'ha ha, suck on that you loser, I wouldn't be intimate with you if you were a cake hat shoved in cake stove made out of cake batter!'

Positive - Fuck this, this is fucking bullshit. Life sucks. The world is an ass. The universe can suck a bag of dicks. And I want everyone to catch face rashes and die ugly. Everything is just fucking awful.

Negative - Will save you money on hair products. 

Positive - Wait, did we switch positions?

Negative - I think we did, and we did it fearlessly, FEARLESSLY! 

Yep, cake hats are awesome. Now who wants to come over and hang out, I'll let you have first lick the first bolt of lightning! 

A long time coming

If you ask me...

Eons Eons 

Did you say eons? 

I said Eons 

Eons Eons 

Eons Eons

Did they say Eons?

He said Eons

We said Eons

Eons Eons

Eons Eons Eons Eons

Who said Eons

She said Eons 

They said Eons

Eons

Eeeeeons...

Would be perfect lyrics to a song satirizing the long held belief in the unraveling nature of the bruised egos of the shadow lurking, calamity unearthing, change birthing community of the sidebar dreaming lost souls, brought about with underbelly wrought, whisky soaked, gravitationally sound, purse rummaging miscreants and their handsomely rewarded, retreating, solitude seeking, found silence among a tortured benevolent direction seeking wise moon, in a culture divided by sliced walls glued with wads of the decimating nature of the climate of inoculated innocence that has penetrated the long wrestling compound sounds of the folk hellbent on straightening the roundness of life! 

You know? 

Or possibly even a song about people who like talking about 'Eons'. 

At least one of those two things. 

Then again, now that I think about, that would super confuse guys named Ian with best friends named Ian, when they are hanging out with colleagues named Ian, so yeah, probably just the first one then.