I forgot to post today!
I've been busy with my websites. I'm making several. They will be great once they're finished. I'll let you see them then. As you probably saw, Misunderstood Me finished his website yesterday and posted about it.
Hopefully I'll post tomorrow.
I have a website! It's finally finished.
Check it out here.
Clayburn's website and other personalities' websites are still in the works. Stay tuned to Clayburn's Official Web Log to find out more.
It's been a while since I've told you how to live your life, directly anyway. So I feel it's time I spout out some more advice to all you poor, unforunate souls.
When you're driving around, don't get angry. That's easier said than done. Getting angry or mad in any way doesn't do you any good. In fact, it hurts your health. It's healtheir to be happy and smile.
Of course, there are times when you won't be happy and smile. But there's no reason to be angry when you're driving.
First of all, the driver with which you are angry won't be aware of it. Even if you honk at him, he'll most likely think nothing of you. In most cases you'll be the only one feeling the anger. That means you're the only one feeling it's harmful effects.
Secondly, anger can cause you not to think. People do stupid things when they don't think, like doing a stupid dance when you're caught lip synching on SNL. But a stupid thing on the road can be far more fatal than Ashlee Simpson.
Something you could try to do is to notice the people driving well and safely. Give them a thumbs up and smile at them.
Or next time someone does something that you disapprove of on the road. Flip them the thumb, not the finger. Use a more important and valuable appendage.
Learn from George Bush. Only thirty percent of Americans like him and he still finds the positive energy to give them all a thumbs up. What's going on in his head, other than a ping pong match between a monkey and a Islamic Fundamentalist, is "Hee hee hee...I'm still on top!"
I ate at Dragon Buffet the other day with my sister and a friend of hers. I had already eaten lunch, so I didn't get a buffet. My sister brought me a bowl of grapes.
The waitresses seemed to give me the stank-eye. Maybe it was the crook-eye. But it wasn't the evil-eye, I'm sure of that. It could have been just one of the waitresses. They all looked the same to me. But every Chinese (I suspect a few were Korean) female in a red shirt that I came in eye contact with had a disturbing look for me. I feared for the safety of my grapes.
As time went by I began to forget about the looks I had been receiving. They had not questioned me about my bowl of grapes. They brought the ticket, which correctly said two buffets and three drinks. But on the ticket sat only two fortune cookies! I ate two more grapes.
Luckily for me, my sister's friend didn't want one. I took her fortune cookie. I took it out of its little wrapper and cracked it in two. The paper slipped out easily. The words on it were so profound. They changed my life forever. And I really enjoyed the grapes.
My fortune cookie said: You are the mast of everything situation.
The sad truth is that I have nothing on my mind that can be well-written into a meaningful web log post. Therefore, I have decided to post a picture, using the cliché that it is equivalent to one thousand words. Of course, these are the words it’s equal to. Basically, it’s just telling you what I’m telling you now. I’m sure you could have probably figured it out on your own. It’s somewhat obvious. I mean, I post every day, yet all of a sudden I have nothing more than a picture of some random whatever. Sure, it’s pretty. But what isn’t? I could have posted a picture of anything and said it speaks one thousand words. And it would. It would speak these words I’m writing now. I’ve barely passed one hundred at this point. This doesn’t compare at all to a picture. Right now we’re at twenty percent of the value of a picture. I do wonder though, if a picture is worth a thousand words, why do some people still find value in books? Most movies are around one hundred and twenty minutes. That’s seven thousand and two hundred seconds. That means there are one hundred seventy-two thousand and eight hundred frames in the movie. A thousand words for each of those frames is quite a handful of frames, to be sure. Yet books don’t have that many words. So, one could argue that movies have way more worth than books. I feel that it’s a lot easier to paint a picture with a brush than it is to paint a picture with words. As you can clearly tell by this post, words aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, and neither are some pictures. I’m approaching three hundred words right now and still have seven hundred to go. To be exact “go” was number three hundred and two. That’s a lot of words. But it’s nothing compared to a single picture. In fact, I’m thinking about giving up on this post right now. One thousand words? That’s way too many for me to type in a single day. Although, I am good at sacrificing quality in favor of quantity. Perhaps if I keep typing out things as if I had something to say I would quickly reach one thousand. No? You’re probably right. I could use something that is easy to write and has a ton of words in it. Unfortunately, I don’t know of anything. I could just go with some random sentences. Carrots once elected a potato as their President. Have you smoked a kidney and then realized it wasn’t yours? If monkeys are green, why aren’t they fuel efficient? Randomness leads to down-syndrome. That’s not random, it’s just true. Though random could be true, I suppose. You can’t actually separate the two, truthiness and randomness. But if I said something like, “Mark flaps his wings toward the east” you could say that’s false. Especially if you could show me Mark flapping his wings toward any other direction than the east, such as west, north, south, southwest, northwest, eastwest, northeast or southeast. Guess what? I’m a little over half way there. That’s crazy. I’m sure nobody has made it this far, yet I continue on with the post. It would have been easier to just look at a picture. You could have already closed the browser window and moved on to more important things, like your banking. You should check your credit card and checking accounts online often. At least once a day. It helps you to prevent fraudulent charges, or at least dispute them in time. And maybe when you see your balance approaching zero, it will encourage you to make something of your life. I know I’m a bum most of the day, but when I see my checking account statement, I say to myself, “Tomorrow I’m going to do something with my life and make a ton of money,” and tomorrow I forget about that, until I see my checking account balance and repeat it in my head. Sometimes I say it aloud. I think this is turning out to prove that one thousand words doesn’t mean much. Sort of like what Mr. Rall would always say, “Practice doesn’t make perfect. Perfect practice makes perfect.” Consider all these words imperfect. They aren’t worth much, huh? Yet still, a picture is worth the same. I would say that my picture which I post today is worth more than a thousand words. It’s a much better picture than the one Randy posted, for example. So I’m going to say that it’s worth one thousand and two words. I know you’re thinking, “Why not say one thousand and three?” Well, it’s not worth THAT much. I mean, it’s just a picture. Have a look for yourself. Would you say it’s worth one thousand and three words? I doubt it. It’s worth one thousand and two. That’s still more than Randy’s picture is worth. But now I’m confused. Does that mean I should write one thousand and two words or only one thousand? If I write one thousand and two words, it would give you something to compare the value of it with. However, if I only type one thousand, then you can still compare values and realize that the picture is worth two words more. I think I’ll go with my original plan of one thousand words. I don’t have that far to go now. So, I guess I’ll go back to some randomness while we wait. Don’t fly too far from your computer speakers or you won’t hear when it’s time to come down. Homes are like skunks but sometimes not as smelly. Spit the fairy in the nose. Here’s one for Randy: we can awesome! Whatever I put here doesn’t matter because most people have already tuned out. But it’s the end! Yes, I’m here. This is worth the same as Randy’s picture. My picture is worth two more words. Cue picture!
I have a home
With a roof and heat.
I have warm clothes
And shoes on my feet.
I have a TV and
A computer as well.
I have stuff to use
For a garage sale.
I have great things,
This is for sure,
But I lie here in bed
Wishing for more.
I have video games
And music CDs.
I have money for spending
And I do it with ease.
I have a car
That gets me from A to B.
Yet this stuff still
Doesn’t satisfy me.
There’s something missing.
What it is, I’m not sure.
But I lie here in bed,
Wishing for more.
I don’t have a lady.
I don’t have a wife.
Could that be what is
Missing from my life?
I know lots of girls
That are nice and fun.
But I have not found
THE girl….the one.
That’s the reason;
I am quite sure
That I lie here in bed
Wishing for more.
If you're like me, you have a lot of free time on your hands and are too lethargic to do anything productive. So you're probably wondering to yourself what you should be watching on TV this season. Luckily you don't have to wonder any longer. I'll tell you what to watch. And what not to watch.
What to watch:
The Office - This is probably the best comedy, still running, on TV. Oddly enough, it's way better than the original on British television. Those English pig-dogs used to be funny, but it seems their ideas need to be Americanized to have humor now. There are some strong emotional elements and even morals to some episodes. Despite this the comedy is still of amazing quality.
My Name is Earl - A very funny show. It's more about something than it is about comedy. Every episode wraps up a handful of mini-stories into a lovely bouquet of happiness. It's like Seinfeld with morals.
The Daily Show with Jon Stewart - Pure genius. Not only is this show incredibly funny, it is also very witty. There seems to be a general following among liberal, pseudo-intellectual college students. They seem to enjoy the feeling of being in the choir that they perceive the show as preaching to. I'd say that most of them are probably more "enlightened" than the viewers of regular news shows. But they are probably falling victim to the Counter-Culture Mechanism, which I think I made up, so I'll define later on in a post.
The Colbert Report - Purer Geniuser. This show is the best on the air.
Twenty Good Years - Delightfully funny. I watched this show because it was on after 30 Rock. But this turned out to be gold. The two characters are hilariously quirky and I feel I can relate to each.
Saturday Night Live - A classic. Entertaining, usually witty. And there's definately music.
Seinfeld Reruns - The new stuff doesn't compare to the Greatest TV Show Ever.
1 VS 100 - An interesting game show. However, the questions are way too easy. I'm going to tune in tonight and hope for some challenging ones. I think they'll probably get harder closer to the Million Dollar Prize.
Heroes - I haven't watched this. The commercials make me want to watch. I'm going to catch up on the series this Sunday. NBC will be re-airing three episodes.
The Amazing Race - This is probably the best reality show on the air. Survivor has taken a big dive in quality this year. The Amazing Race is always suspenseful, entertaining and emotional. Sometimes there are comical moments.
What not to watch:
Deal or No Deal - Oh, this is so stupid. Howie, please, make it stop!
Soap Operas - The Hidden Dangers
Happy Hour - This show is for stupid youth.
30 Rock - I don't know if this show is really terrible or if it's mostly due to my disappointment. It seemed like 30 Rock would be a great show. Yet it is boring, the jokes are stale and it's overly NBC.
Survivor - Like I said, Survivor has taken a big dive in quality. Maybe it was gradual, I just didnt' realize how far they sunk until now.
Friends Reruns - They weren't good when they first aired. So what are you expecting?
Hello, peoples of the internet. I am sorry for interrupting Clayburn's blog. There's been something troubling me. It's probably best that I post about it.
By the way, my name's Misunderstood Clayburn.
I have a little bit of a problem with society. Maybe it's not society in general, but at least the society with which I interact.
The other day I was at Wal-Mart buying grapes. I had my grapes in my basket and decided to browse the store before heading to the cash register. As I made my way to the electronic section, I realized that the women's underwear section was coming up on my right. My feeling is that section should be placed more discreetly at the center of the women's clothing section. Walking by it makes me very uncomfortable.
But the problem isn't the placement of the women's underwear. My problem is with some fellow shoppers. As I passed the bras and panties I deliberately tried to avoid eye contact with them, the bras and panties, not the shoppers. But then I felt that my avoidance was too obvious. I tried looking straight ahead. And that's when my eyes glanced over to my right. They had caught some motion among the underwear.
No sooner than my eyes arrived back at their appropriate viewing position, a shopper spoke out at me. "Hey," he said. "Were you just oogling the bras and panties?"
"Uh, no." I said.
"Ew, gross," a young lady announced. "He's a pervert!"
I tried to explain myself. Words came out but without order.
Then it hit me. No, not an idea, a rock. "Get out of here you nasty perv," another girl yelled. She had a handful of rocks, as though she had been waiting for a social pariah to come along for her target.
"Stop!" I screamed. I tried to leave the place, but they had me surrounded. The only opening was through the underwear section. I made a dash down the isle of bras.
"Oh, sick! He's smelling them."
"What a pervert!"
"He's probably getting off on this."
"Ew, he's disgusting."
"I can't believe he's checking out bras at Wal-Mart. That's probably the only ones he can ever see!"
Laughter and rocks flew at me as I ran for the exit, leaving my grapes behind. I made it safely to the parking lot and left Wal-Mart. On my way home I began to cry. Not so much for the mean things they said or the pain from the rocks. I cried because my grapes didn't make it out with me. I deserted them. They will be missed.
That was not the only time I've had rocks thrown at me. People often throw rocks at me and the reasons vary from my love of video games to the way I wear my mustache.
I have never understood what they hope to accomplish with the rock throwing. It seems as though they have a desire not to associate with weird freaks, such as myself. Perhaps that is a reasonable desire. I cannot say that I would have that desire, but then I'm one of the weird freaks. If I were normal, would I need to be so adimant about my stance against freakdom?
It's really something I don't understand. I suppose I can't understand. In the same way that normal people can't understand me. But I feel the difference is that I want to understand them, they don't wish to understand me. Sure, that's an assumption, but I feel the throwing of rocks can easily be interpreted as not caring to understand something.
Maybe you people can help me understand. Whether you're normal or weird, I feel you can lend something to the conversation. I'd like to hear your ideas and thoughts.
It feels a little better sharing this with the world. But I'm afraid the problem itself will never be solved. The threat of high impact stones will await me wherever I go.
Moments ago I would have bravely ventured into the room slaying the demons that await me. However, now I know that among them waits Cornelda. She was my lover, long ago. Though that is not the reason for my cowardly hesitation. I know her too well. I know her capabilities and talents. She could kill me in a second with only a finger.
It's not difficult to fight something you once loved. The difficulty is in fighting all the qualities within it which caused that love. Strength, virtue, intelligence, charisma, intrigue and more. Everything which had made her so perfect in my mind is waiting with her on the other side of that door.
But it is too late to turn back. The path behind me had been set ablaze by the destruction I caused. I had fought a tough and dirty fight for these demons, with these demons, as a demon myself. And now they have turned on me. Their quarrel is no longer with the winged vixens. They are no more, thanks to me. I am now their enemy.
I can see the pain and suffering I brought about behind me. I realize that is what awaits me inside this room. Some would say that it's a befitting end. An eye for an eye, as the maxim goes. Though I believe it would be unfair. I haven't enough eyes to pay for the righteous wrong I've done.
Even when faced with only one choice I find it hard to make up my mind. Decisions should be left to the prophets. Yet they are all inside the room, with a prevision of my death at their hands.
"Forgive them," a voice whispers. I turn around to see only decaying death. "Forgive them," the voice repeats, "As we forgive you."
I see a small, bluish light amidst the redish black pyre and yell at it, "Liar!" While it's true that I regret my lethal actions, I do not respect those who fell. They had gotten what they had deserved. Their many lies and well-intentioned injustices had caught up to them. And now they claim to forgive me. Yet I can feel their dishonesty, their hidden hatred within their charred hearts. "You do not forgive me," I roar at the beacon of blue. "And neither will they!"
With my sword raised high I charge into the room.
Have you lost interest in your favourite hobbies and sports - or - are you spending increased amounts of time on them almost compulsively?
It's back and forth. I'll go a long time without doing anything that could be considered a hobby of mine, then one weekend it's all I do.
Do you feel sad often for no reason at all - or - very irritable?
No. I don't think I'm ever irritable. I'm usually really positive. But I do get sad, but with reason. I have dreams often were I am irritable and I often cuss someone out or beat them with a bat.
Have you lost enjoyment in spending time with family and friends?
No. I enjoy spending time with family and friends. I don't spend much time with them though. I don't have friends. I see my sister every once in a while. I eat lunch with my dad nearly everyday and I see my grandma usually once a week.
Have you lost your appetite - or - have been overeating almost compulsively?
No. I'm trying to watch my eating, but it's not helping. I want to eat less more often, but I still tend to have no more than three meals a day and at least one is huge. I also have a problem with eating before bedtime sometimes. Just FIY or something.
Is it hard to get to sleep and your sleep is restless and broken - or are you feeling so tired that you want to sleep all the time?
I fall asleep easy usually. I like to sleep. I don't think I'm ever feeling tired. I just have to go to sleep so I can maybe wake up earlier or easier.
Have you lost interest in sex - or - have become very preoccupied by it?
Hmm...I don't know. I guess neither.
Do you feel worthless, guilty, or that you are a burden to your family?
No.
Are you thinking about death or suicide or about harming yourself?
Oddly, it seems like it. But I could never do it. So it's more like I think I should consider killing myself, but I know I couldn't do it.
Do you have trouble concentrating making decisions?
No.
Do you feel extremely tired and have you lost all your energy?
Maybe. I'm not very energetic. But I don't feel tired. I think if need be I could summon up energy, but I don't have much to do.
So, it seems like I don't have Depression. I'm happy about that, I guess. Here's the test to see if I have Mania. Sounds more my style. Though I think whatever I have would start with psych.
Do you have persistent "highs" - or - persistent irritable moods?
I get some really awesome highs every once in a while. And I have some lows too. But usually I feel stuck in between.
Do you feel you have boundless energy but have little need or desire to sleep?
I'd love to stay up all night. But I love sleep, so eventually I'd sleep a lot. Since I have work in the morning, I go to sleep early.
Do your thoughts race?
I had one in Nascar, but it didn't do very well. It crashed and burned on the first lap.
I don't think my thoughts race. I don't know.
Does your speech feel "pressured" like you can't get the words out fast enough?
No.
Are you making decisions too fast often without realizing the dangerous or painful consequences involved?
No.
Has your interest in sex increased greatly?
No.
Well, this seems to imply that I'm not depressed or have mania. What are your thoughts on my ailment? Any disorders for which I should test myself?
I hadn't planned on posting today. Robocop said he was going to post. But I found out he was referring to his own blog. So, here's another crappy poem. I'd just read Robocop's blog today if I were you. And probably every Saturday. I think I'll make it a habit to have my Saturday posts suck more than usual so I don't take away viewers from Robocop.
Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. The poem:
In a land quite distant
There is a young lad
who listens carefully
to the words of his dad.
He's told about life
and the birds and the bees.
He learns of honor and
about making cheese.
As the years pass
the lad grows old.
He then tells his son
the things he was told.
The time soon comes
when life is no more
and what was life?
What did he live it for?
Sorry, Clayburn's out of the office today and I'm filling in. Nice to meet you, hope you guessed my name. But in case you haven't, I'm Evil Clayburn.
The other day I was in Hastings, looking through some philosophy books (Socrates, what a dumbass). There was an old couple near me and I over heard one say, "The Good Lord giveth and taketh away."
Hmm...am I a good lord?
I do think I'm doing an okay job of being a god in general. It is disheartening being a kind of "middle management god". Clayburn is the god, in fact, I think I'm supposed to capitalize that. I'm more like...Hermes, but not gay. My role is supportive. Without me, would Clayburn still function? Maybe. But it would be difficult. He only has three support gods currently. There's me, Misunderstood Clayburn and Egotistical Clayburn. I'm sure you'd agree that without me Clayburn would be pretty much useless.
But is Clayburn a good Lord? Now, as the god of Evil, you'd expect me to lie, right? Wrong! The truth is often evil. Without me, Clayburn would be a very dishonest person. But I'd have to say that Clayburn is not a good Lord, going soley by the quote above. You see, he's very giving. But he doesn't taketh away. The good lord does both, yet he only does one.
I've decided to help him with this. You see, I'm part of this organization and if its leader isn't up to par, that reflects on me. When I go out to the bar people will see me and say, "That's the guy working for that Lord that never taketh away."
In other areas of godliness, Clayburn seems to be doing okay. He could afford to pay us more, or at least install a coffee machine in the break room.
Another area that could use improvement is his range of influence. There aren't many worshipers of Clayburn. I blame society's recent decline in morality.
I for one would like to see more forceful means of gaining influence. However, Misunderstood Clayburn is the favorite around here. Clayburn seems to think that the best way to gain worshipers is to give, give and give then make people feel sorry for him because he was such a giver and people treat him badly. He always tasks Misunderstood Clayburn with inciting pity within his subjects. It makes him seem weak and weakness is not respected. Without respect more people misunderstand him. It's a destructive cycle.
But I have a plan to turn things around. It may require me putting in some overtime, but I will try to make more of an impact here. If I could get Clayburn to follow through with some of my ideas and policies, I think it would be better for the long run of the organization.
You can help! Tonight when you pray to Clayburn, specifically send your prayers to Evil Clayburn. It should empower me enough to get ahead of Misunderstood Clayburn and enact some changes for the good, the evil good.
Here's a short little poem I was forced to write in school:
A feather fell from a flock
of flying fish in fairy land.
The feather fell somewhere in Chicago
landing on the head of a poor man.
He was startled
and rose to his feet.
He looked around
for someone to beat.
Then, like magic,
a fortune was found,
He had never noticed,
just sitting on the ground.
The man was rich
and had a great life,
until a golddigger
became his wife.
This post is gonna be fuckin' out there. I use the word "fuckin'" not as hyperbole. My feelings are that I'm losing my mind, but I'm not able to lose it and it's in that which causes the frustration leading to my going crazy. I'm too damn stable to go crazy, but too crazy to be stable.
I'm paranoid, but it's justified. Everybody is talking about me, but no one is talking to me. So how do I know they're talking to me? I find hints of it in my cereal! No, that's a joke, but seriously they are and I know it, and I feel like it's minute, but it's so continuous and seems to never end.
I'll forget about it for a while, but then something comes up. Another cereal hint showing me that despite my decades of solitude and non-interaction with society, I'm still the center of gossip.
I desire to be talked to. I don't have people to talk to, but I do like to talk to people. Some people are around me while I talk to them and they talk back. But it isn't enough. I need more.
My mind is stuck in the middle. I can forget about my paranoia and all that crap, but it comes back. I can't deal with it. And I can't completely do without it. It's there, and I want to be crazy, but I can't let myself. I don't want to be crazy, but it would make things much easier.
The other day I made a sandwich with mayonnaise, two eggs over easy and turkey deli meat. I called it a "turkey suicide". If a turkey committed suicide, what would it matter? People would probably just eat him for Thanksgiving without even thanking him. But the real question is how would a turkey kill itself? It hasn't the ability, in fact instinct would prevent it from being capable of killing itself.
To be a turkey is to live!
As I type my mind calms down, but only for a moment. Then it hits me that I'm not yet crazy and I go insane, but not a good insane. It's like an ejaculation that doesn't go anywhere. No boosters on the rocket. How can that even be called an ejaculation? Technically, it ejects, but not in the sense that a pilot ejects from his downed jet with tremendous thrust, sending him up into the sky to safety. But it's more like a turkey lays an egg. It's not much of an ejection, but rather just a fall. An analogy for my analogy. That's like a something.
So, anyway, I'm always out of stuff to write about and now I have something. It's my own psychosis, but still, it should have been yummy.
TO MAYBE BE CONTINUED DEPENDING ON MY STATE OF MIND IN THE NEAR FUTURE...
P.S. I'm not on drugs!
P.S.S. Cabbage is my random word.
P.S.S.S. Randomness...that is good. But is the world random? Is random real? No! It doesn't exist. But I shouldn't exist either. Nothing should exist. Everything is a paradox and therefor should have 'sploded by now. Forces are all opposing each other, making everything real and nothing matter. But the only thing that matters is that nothing is real. Like a ping pong match, but with people who never lose, never miss the damn ball, despite it's tiny size and extreme bounciness.
So I'm sitting here not doing anything again. When I do stuff, I don't really do much.
I'm in a planning phase. Eventually I plan to do something. I don't know what that something is yet, but I'm sure it'll be awesome!
My planning phase isn't working out for me though. I need to be in the action phase. My soul is sitting around getting fat and lazy. It needs some fresh air and adventure. But it seems in the modern world adventure is tough to find.
I realize I need to set off into the world of adventure, but I'm not sure which direction to go. A herald would be a big help. There are many choices available to me and I can't decide. Where am I supposed to go?
Due to the indecision, I find myself complacent, here in my planning phase. Making money, getting in shape, straightening my teeth. Preparing for a day that might someday come.
That day could be today. Or next week even, if I choose it to be. I have an opportunity, in a way. I could sell my house. That would give me around $20,000. With that money I could do something.
But what am I supposed to do?
I could go to New York, Seattle, LA or Osaka. Maybe I could start a business of some sort here in Hobbs, or in Lovington. Or buy a new house.
Ultimately I feel I need change, but there are some things I don't want to change. I tell myself to wait until I'm finished with those things, then bring on the change. Maybe I should plan on that. I'll plan to follow my original plan of planning to do something sometime.
I have found that once someone is accused of insecticide their reputation suffers greatly. Before my trial I could walk into McDonald's and order a double green chile cheeseburger without anyone spitting on it. Despite being found not guilty on the account of the DA having a weird name that the jury didn't much care for, I'm still being thought of as a grasshopper-killer, which I am.
How does one move on from that? How do I rebuild my reputation?
I thought long and hard about this while I looked up at the framed grasshopper leg above my mantle, the trophy of my conquest.
Hmmm...conquest.
Perhaps I could be seen as a town hero if I conquered something, or someone. But what?
Then it hit me like a bad idea hits an ignorant person. The homeless! Yes, that would me my ticket to hero status. Those without a house in which to live, to be more precise. They are becoming more and more a threat to the morals and integrity of Hobbs, America. I shall eradicate the homeless!
But how? Welfare to work programs? Apartments for the impoverished? Toxic waste traps in convenient store parking lots? No. None of those ideas were feasible or cost-effective. No, it was clear to me what needed to be done. There was no simple solution. No, no! I would need to think long and hard about this.
But right now I need to watch some TV.
As you may have heard, I recently took it upon myself to regulate the internet. My first task coming out of retirement is to give Clayburn a warning for his so-called "web log".
I began reading your blog a few months ago. It had soon been obvious that this blog has been infecting the public with idiotic commentary, rebellious attempts at art and nonsensical nonsense (the most unlawful of unlawful internet crimes!).
My first objective was to search out Clayburn and destroy him. However, I quickly found that nobody is reading his blog, and so I decided I could let him off with a warning...this time.
I called the local police department and got Clayburn's home address. At around three in the afternoon, I showed up at his front door. He finally answered the door in his pajamas about five minutes after I had rang the doorbell.
"Hello, Mr. Griffin. I am Robocop," I said. "And I am here to issue you a warning for your extremely unlawful blog."
"Hi, Robocop," he replied. I had the impression that he was high, however none of my sensors picked up anything and they're infallible.
"Please sign here," I said handing him a clipboard with the warning citation attached.
"Did I win something?"
I wanted to snap his neck right then and there, as our Founding Fathers would have done, but I remained calm. "No, sir. You have been issued a warning. Should you continue with your peccant blog I will be forced to destroy you in accordance with the law."
"Oh, ok," he said and signed the paper. I tore off the yellow carbon copy and handed it to him. Suddenly, a black Eclipse drove down the street going nearly fourty-five miles per hour. The speed limit was only thirty-five.
"Say 'No' to drugs," I told Clayburn as I turned to chase after the speeding malefactor.
They stopped at the light, preparing to make a left turn. As I neared their back bumper they floored it. "Hault or be destroyed, punk!" I yelled after them. It was clear which option they chose.
As they drove down Grimes, getting further away, I began to assemble the rocket launcher which I always carry in my side compartment, for just these circumstances. They were at some distance when I had finished. I considered letting them go, but then I thought about the children. Yes, the children. They were the reason I was in this business. I couldn't let them down. I fired the rocket.
I accidently hit a school bus. Fortunately, I had a second rocket. I fired it. The rocket impacted the Eclipse just as they entered onto a busy intersection. Their car blew into pieces.
A mere 10 seconds later, I arrived at the scene. The explosion had caused a traffic disturbance. Thinking back to my early programming, I quickly began directing the vehicles as they approached the intersection. Finally, the local authorities arrived on scene. There was no trace of the driver of the Eclipse. I can only estimate he escaped, unscaved. He no doubt is wreaking havoc on the citizens of Hobbs, America. I vow to you, here today on this very blog, I will find him and bring him to justice.
John Williams was the winner of Photo Caption Contest #3.
"It's a good thing we don't have locking mechanisms on the vehicle doors."
Here is the new photo, so caption away!
Randy made a claim that implied reading my web log was better than poking yourself in the eye. Well, it no longer has to be! That's right, I've assembled 10 different ways to poke your eye, the most exciting, fun and exhilirating possibilities of the modern era. The days of mundanely touching your eyeball with the tip of your index finger are over. Next time you're at a party, impress your friends with your knowledge of eye-poking. Or compete in Taiwan's annual Eye-Poking Competition with confidence and skill. The ten possibilities are endless**!
I never noticed the world in my backyard. Perhaps it was because of all the weeds which I'd see looking out my window. Unwilling to venture out beyond the concrete slab of my patio, I kept myself out of touch with it's divinity, until last night.
I received a text message on my cell phone, only moments before my bedtime. "Have you ever eaten a magic apple?" it read. Thinking back about the apples I have consumed over the course of my lifetime, I concluded none of the three had been magic. My reply was a simple "No".
Another message came instantly, "Come out and visit me. I'll take you to the apple." Two questions ran through my mind with regard to my imminent reply. Who and where. I made my choice of what to say, at the time not realizing the one would bring the answer to the other in time. I sent back my response, "Where?"
"In your backyard," came the message, "Three messages is my limit."
Of the three messages received, the last was the most unusual. I had seen out into my backyard several times and knew nobody was there. It was also curious that a limit was imposed on the number of messages. Perhaps they chose to only send me three or perhaps it was impossible, for some reason, for them to send me more.
I thought about it for a while before setting forth on my journey. I walked out onto the back porch and glanced around. Nobody was there. I walked out into my weeds, like an expedition through the Amazon. And there it was. A world unnoticed until now.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Be fertile and die,
Clayburn
As I wait in the chair
Quite nervous indeed.
Feeling comfort and care
I begin to read.
When the lady approaches
And calls out my name
Shiver runs down my spine;
I regret that I came.
Following the herald
My hands start to sweat.
She says, “Sit patiently;
Doctor’s not here yet.”
As I wait in fear
I think about how
I’ll breath safely and live,
But the Dentist comes now.
My head goes back
And it seems okay,
But worry still exists
In my mind as I lay.
My mouth wide open
And me close to death
I concentrate hard
To steady my breath.
Air entering my nose
And leaving it too;
Careful not to drown,
Careful not to lose.
“Open wide,” Doc says
And I ignorantly comply
Even though I know
I could possibly die.
My nose a bit stuffy,
Mouth too full;
Then all of a sudden a slip
Of the dentist tool.
Sharp pain in my gums,
Like a drill to a cavity,
It’s the stimulus
That will eradicate me
There is no air.
Breathing is no use.
Life being pulled
Like a bad tooth.
Lungs fill with water,
And plaque, and so this
Is my last visit,
My last dentist.
