There was a noise inside my home

and it was keeping my awake at night, and during the day when I wanted to nap. I thought it might be coming from my guitar so I put it in its case after I cut the strings off. One of the biggest strings has metal on it and it almost whipped into my eye, so you can understand that I was pretty mad when I found the noise had not diminished at all. In my anger I reopened the case and smashed the guitar to pieces holding it by the neck. This didn't help the noise, but you can appreciate my minor relief when I saw that some of the wood still formed the hole. The sound hole that the strings go across. Of course, I thought, if the sound hole is still intact, sound can easily still come from the guitar! It was easy work to break up the hole, and even sort of fun which kept me from getting too discouraged at the end when I found the sound (a sort of high whine) had not diminished. At this point it was not much more work to bury the guitar (pieces) out back even though I had only slight hopes this would help anything. After refilling the hole and putting rocks over it I was unsurprised that the whine continued inside the house. I was at a loss of what to do now as my house contained nothing else except the rock I had taken inside to finally smash apart the sound hole. I put the rock back outside but of course this was not the variable I was looking for. I paced and tried to think of what else might be the cause. Was there another guitar under the floorboards? Possibly one left by a previous resident? If that was so, shouldn't it have been buzzing ever since I moved in? I remembered that I had used scissors to cut the guitar strings but then I remembered that I had also buried them outside with the guitar, they weren't in the house. The house has no doorbell. Or even room next to the front door for one to be installed, so it couldn't be faulty wiring or something. But the noise is sort of getting quieter so I guess I must be doing something right.

Canticle the Crabman; Scene 2

Scene 2 (The beach of a deserted island.)

(Canticle improvises a song alone on his deserted island, as he collects berries for his meager dinner)

Canticle:
Heighdy hoe heighdy hee!
Its great to be me!
Alone on a ship...no,
Alone on a desert isle!
I'll be here for quite a while!
And this is my song, sung by my spirit
I'll sing it loud so all souls can hear it!
Hey, I kind of like that.
Hoodeehoo, picking all these berries...This isn't so bad after all. Last night was a little rough; sleeping on that damn straw bed. I'm going to have to find something better than that. Some kind of sack filled with leaves? But I'll have to make a sack somehow. An old shirt? Oh well, I'll figure it out, and that straw isn't SO bad, after all. If worst comes to worst...But oh, those troubling thoughts! Don't want to have those again, no sir. I try to have a sense of humor about it, but really last night was pretty awful. Sometimes I wonder about this world, and it scares me when I start to wander in that direction. Don't go there now, old fellow. Ah but it’s too late. Pointless to try and force yourself not to think about it when you've already thunk it; no matter how hard you try, singing some stupid song, or trying to think other thoughts and "look the other way", you know that thing is looming right there because you can see it out of the corner of your eye the whole time and when you give up trying to think other thoughts its right there where you left it...big and black and snarling...It's not too bad now, which is quite nice, but once the sun goes down, that's when the demons come out, trying to snatch at your soul and whisper into your ear all those nasty thoughts...Geez, Canticle, can't you give it a break? I wonder sometimes, what the devil is wrong with me? Does everyone have this tormenting stream of consciousness, never letting up, day in and day out, never quitting, no time for rest?! When even after a long night of sleep you wake up and it’s just where you left it; it picks up right where it left off, incessantly whispering, doubting, fearing....Ah, dash it all! That's not me! That's not even the half of me! Why, I've got all these other things, my song, my legs…
(he does a merry jig atop a rock, then stops)
Maybe it is a good plan that I get off this island. At first I wanted to stay, thought it would be a good break for me. Hey, if they don't want me I don't want them! Plus I thought I would be able to live a simpler life, collect my own food, cook my own dinners, build a shelter. I needed physical labor to balance out the laziness I acquired from my leisurely castle life. I wanted to be like a simple peasant. They are good people, so pure and free from all this nonsense. They only worry about the necessities; why me, I worry about the color of shirt I am going to wear on the town some nights, or the style of my hair, or the things I am going to say to a pretty girl...Now there's something I'm missing...Maybe this life would be better if I had a pretty little girl of my own. Maybe I'm not doing it right, and that's why it’s not working. That's why it's so damn miserable lying awake for hours at night with nothing to keep me occupied except for my eternally nagging mind. Maybe I'm not working hard enough. Who knows? Who cares?! I want off this island and I want to go back...
Back to what? My old way of life? That's impossible, I've been exiled. Even still, maybe there's a way around it. I could adopt a new name and appearance, start a new life, no one would know. Among people, and food, and real beds, and women, and beer! That's what I want, a cold beer. Blast it all to hell! That's not what I need, that's not going to satisfy my spirit. And without that I'll just be another cow eating its way toward death, as that wise old philosopher says. God, what a terrible thing to be, a cow. I guess, anyways. Some might argue. What was it the Grand Inquisitor said about that? That that's precisely what the people want? To have their freedom taken away? Then what? Then they don't have to worry about making choices, making a way for themselves, asking questions, feeling uncertainty, living life. Life, oh so horrible and wonderful! Can't have the good without the bad though. Can't have true joy without true suffering, without those long nights in the whale's belly, as they say. So I guess I am doing some good here, with these torturous nights. Putting in my time with the old devil, I guess, so I can better recognize God when the time comes. Is that right? Not sure about that one. But I really should get off this island, not to go back to my old life but to start my new quest. And that quest is to do something good and right, which means putting those corrupt officials in their places, exposing the whole damn scandal and clearing my name. Then to take the throne or not, that's another question...A tough question actually, that presents many pros and cons, and seems to have more sides than a shape from Euclid's worst nightmare, or wildest fantasy, whichever one suits him better. So, leave that for now. But, who is this off in the distance? Some uninvited guest? Well, doesn't bother me at all, really. I would kill for some company. Is that one of those North Shore crabs? Some kind of messanger? Ho there!

(end Scene 2)

Canticle the Crabman

"Canticle the Crabman", An Absurdist Drama in Three Acts

Young Canticle Crab, the rightful heir to his father the King's throne is wrongly exiled to a faraway land [a bed of washed up seaweed merely a few feet from a large group of rocks, these rocks comprising the entirety of the Crab Kingdom (any land not in the immediate vicinity of this group of rocks pronounced "faraway lands" by crab people who have a short-sighted view of geography.)]

Act One
Scene One (Crab Kingdom, outside the wall of the King's Castle, which is being manned by a lone crab guard)
Guard:
Me likes to sit about and guard the castle fairly well, when there is action enough to occupy me, such as the outing of our Royal Guard, and sitting back eyeing the marching troops I can daydream about their adventures and fancy myself among their ranks (were I not such the weak runt that I am!); or when the princess and her attendants are strolling about close to the castle walls, picking the wild Gerber daisies that grow so abundantly there, laughing gaily , and playing sprightly games with each other, affording me ample opportunity to gaze on them with admiring, wishful eyes; or when all is silent except for the sound of rustling leaves of the trees when the wind blows through them, the gentle, rhythmic lapping of the waves, and the far off cry of a seagull; and these sounds all but lull you to sleep, while you entertain the most peaceful reflections about Life and Nature, then the joyful mildness that is all around pervades into your innermost Being; at such times I count my work a positive pleasure!, but oh what torture it can be when outside these drab walls on a hot summer day (like today) not a soul is stirring, the sky itself seems lifeless, and there is not an ounce of movement anywhere on the whole horizon! The air is so thick and still, and heavy, it weighs down so oppressively on my very soul that my daydreams are stifled before they can even start, my thoughts turn inward, my worries double, and before I know it a horde of evil thoughts are gnawing at my brain like incessant maggots. It is easy to dream and hope when the air is light, the birds are singing, the clouds are majestic, and everything around seems to entice a budding fantasy to bloom and grow upwards towards heavenly thoughts; but how dismal is the day when there is no lady in view to kindle any passion, nor brave troop to raise your chin and fill your breast with noble pride; no exciting goal on the horizon you can fix your thoughts to. It is times like these I begin to wonder...

(a movement in the distance startles the Guard out of his revelry)

What's that I see? A crab from the North Shore? What a happy diversion! Anything to relieve me from these morbid fantasies...But what game is this? His gait seems odd, slightly crooked, even for a crab. Is he limping? Dear Lord, has he been wounded? What is that staining his shirt? Blood?!

Messanger Crab: (collapsing a few feet from the Guard)
Sir! I...stabbed...could not help...Canticle...

Guard:
Dear Lord! Get up, sir! My God! Somebody help!

(Exit Guard who rushes into the castle to find help, leaving the dying crab alone.)

Messanger:
May god help that poor soul...(he dies)

(The Guard returns with two of the King’s Soldiers, the King's Assistant, and the Doctor.)

Guard:
But he...He was just talking! Oh my!

Doctor: (checking the dead crab's pulse) This crab is dead.

King's Assistant: Bring him into the castle. (turning to Guard) What did he say?

Guard: (tears streaming down his face) I don't know, I don't know.

King's Assistant: What did he want? He must have said something.

Soldier #1: (lifting the dead crab and hauling him away with Soldier #2) Buck up man. Get a grip.

Guard: He said something about Canticle...

All: Canticle?!

Guard: I can't believe he's dead! Oh my god!! (falls into a terrible fit of sobbing)

King's Assistant: Get him out of here! (all exit except Assistant)
Canticle, eh? So he's involved in this? What new treachary is brewing? Can't tell the King, he's no good at dealing with these sorts of issues...I'll have to deal with this myself...
(exit King's Assistant)
(end Scene I)

Meet the Beagles

I've wanted a dog for quite some time, but the way people have been getting them is so stupid. I don't just want to take any dog from the shelter, because they all pretend they like you just so they can go home (I've seen 101 Dalmatians). What I want is for one of my neighbor's dogs to prove it likes me more by coming to live with me. I don't go outside much anymore so I've thought of a really ingenious way for the dogs to start meeting with me. I installed a doggie door in my front door so that dogs can come in whenever they please.

Then I got worried that the dogs might not find me once they were inside. (My house is pretty big and the TV is usually on, so I might not hear them either lol)! I was leaving dog treats like Baconlins or whatever on the floor in a trail to where I was, but I kept getting up to get snacks (for myself!) and to go to the bathroom or go to bed, and it was a pain to make a new trail of dog treats every time. (Not all of them had to be moved every time, just some, but it was still a pain.)

So I put a long strip of duct tape with the treats stuck on at intervals and now I can just carry the end with me wherever I go in my house (Not all the way into the tub though lol)! At first I was maybe a little scared that dogs might try to eat the whole strip of tape like a spaghetti noodle (I've seen Lady and the Tramp) but then I knew that smaller dogs would have mouths too small for that, and bigger dogs would probably know better.

I'll let you know what dogs come a callin'!

My Neck

Dear Eugene,
My neck has been swelling really huge lately. It takes me a long time just to get my shirt on. Plus it hurts. Hurts to swim, hurts to run. Even hurts to talk. What do I do, Eugene? I've never had this before. Do you know what I'm talking about? Like there's pus all inside it. I can't even swallow my scrambled eggs some morning. Scrambled eggs! Those are all mashed up, it should be easy! I gotta tell you, this is getting old. What should I do?
Signed,
Neck Hurts

Used Submarines

Hey!
Looking to buy a new or used Submarine? Well, we've got 'em.

How about a used diesel electric submarine for $450,000?
No problem.
Johansson's Submersibles knows deep submersibles are not very popular outside the scientific research community:
1. They have high operating costs.
2. You can't use one without a fucking large-ass support ship

And I'm not going to lie, many of our submarines suck. But it's probably the best you'll get.

-Johansson's Submersibles

April Fools That I Hated

Here are some of the worst April Fools that have been committed on me in the past:

Little sister told me ducks were in my bed.

Father made ducks crawl into my car.

Sound of ducks in the back of my ears for last three years.