Joke #4

So a man goes up to his friend and says:
"I'm having a problem.  I'm spending
too much money!  I go to movies, I eat out,
I use lots of gas driving places." 
The friend says, "That does seem like a lot." 
"It is," the man says.  "I promised myself I'd
make it all up by eating only Ramen for two
weeks and not leaving my house."

"Good plan," says the friend.
"It is," says the man.  "But I haven't done any of it! 
I keep spending money."
"Uh oh."

"I know."

"That's the end of the story?" asks the friend.

"Story?!" yells the man. "I thought I was talking
to a banker.  I need a loan!"

Mini Helicopter Blog #2

This now a blog of Mini Helicopters.  No one will understand them like she does.  Everyone will love them like she don't.  I'm so paranoid.  I'm so paranoid.

8 Minutes of Heaven

A Story of Mini Helicopters:

Mini Helicopters only run for 8 minutes.  It's enough time though, really.  When it's charging for 20 minutes you can take a break and it's not even like you're missing anything.  But when that sucker is ready, boy!  Fly it around the room, up to the ceiling, everywhere, man.  It's incredible.  I'm telling you its the best 8 minutes of your life.

Clever Observations #367

When you're out walking and pair of people passes you, notice how their conversation lags as they pass you. It will hold on filler words and then is expertly timed to resume once you are out of earshot.

This little trick might be exposed by walking backwards as they pass you. They won't be able start talking again, but as long as you can't be accused of following them, they won't be able to confront you. An awkward silence will result and you will wonder what in the world you are doing.

Winter Holiday Post, SPECIAL EDITION

The BREAKFAST NOOK
a play

The scene is a cozy breakfast nook. It is cluttered with things, you can imagine what: magazines, cookbooks, and school notebooks on the table, old tennis shoes on the floor against the wall, a basketball under the table, homemade sculptures, an old cactus, and a piece of yarn on the windowsill, etc etc etc. It's morning, before dawn. Two children sit eating eggs. Mom is in the kitchen cooking blueberry muffins. Dad is upstairs shaving. The blinds are drawn, darkness can be seen through the cracks. It is quiet, except for Mom bustling in the kitchen, and the occasional monosyllable replies from the kids.
MOM-Excited about school?
PATRO----(shit, I almost wrote PATROKALES. Is that even how you spell it? Shit, that would be hilarious. A little kid as some legendary Greek warrior, sitting in the breakfast nook eating eggs with his brother! Anyways, I meant to write "Patrick", not PATROKALES. )
PATRICK-Yes, Mom.
MOM-What do you plan to do today?
PATRICK-Defeat the Troj---(SHIT!!! HA! Now I've really done it. Defeat the TROJANS?! No way some little kid is going to do that. Well, anyways, Patrokales doesn't even do that. Should I be spelling that some other way? That doesn't look right. I know there's the version with the "k", that's like the Greek one, then there's the one with the "c". But still...It's cool the way the Greeks spell everything with "k's", and have everything in capital letters and everything.)
PATRICK-We're going on a field trip, Mom.
MOM-Is your brother going?
PATRICK-No.
HENRY-Yes.
PATRICK-No you're not, Henry.
(Henry smiles.)
PATRICK-MOM! Henry says he's going on the field trip and he's not!
(enter Dad)
(I thought for a second, what if Dad was Ajax? That would be cool. And he commits hari kari right in the kitchen, before going to work. Boss-Johnson, why were you late for work?
JOHNSON-Oh, got tied up honorably killing myself, boss.)
JOHNSON- (I guess I'm calling him Johnson, now.) What's all this fuss about? Patrokales? Ajax? (Ajax is the son, now.)
AJAX-Patrokales spit at me.
PATROKALES-Did not!
AJAX-Did too!
JOHNSON-SHUUT UPP!! It's a madhouse in here. A man can't even hear himself think. Gotta think, Johnson, think. (sits down at the Breakfast Nook, puts his head in his hands. The kids stare, stupified.)
MOM-Dear? What's wrong?
JOHNSON-Not you too, Woman. Back into the kitchen! Goddamn it! (slams fist onto table.) A man needs to have his space. He doesn't need to be pestered and nagged all the time...He's trying so hard to make his family happy. Why can't he come downstairs and have a nice, peaceful breakfast, without ALL THE YELLING AND SCREAMING?! (JOHNSON leaps into the air, runs into the kitchen, grabs a butcher knife out of the drawer and plunges it into his chest. The kids scream and run to their mother. Johnson staggers over to the BREAKFAST NOOK. He sits down peacefully at the little table. He smiles. He picks up one of the homemade sculptures, a little dinosaur made of clay, and turns it over in his hands.)
JOHNSON-You make this at school, Henry?
HENRY (no longer Greek. The tragedy is almost over.)-Yes, Dad.
JOHNSON-It's nice. Very nice. Sorry, Boss.
(JOHNSON drops the dinosaur, slumps over against the wall, and dies. Blood runs down his pant leg and gathers around the soles of the old sneakers.)

Jalapeno pt I

Jonathan approaches his friend's door and knocks. A commotion of loud music is heard within.
From inside he hears: "Come in!"
Jonathan opens the door and walks in. Smoke fills the living room. A stereo blares loud
pumping music. A voice from the
kitchen yells: "Come in, have seat! One sec!" The smoke is really bad, it seems to be burning
Jonathan's eyes. He squints slightly and fans smoke away.
Jonathan says to himself, "Is that jalapenos? " He sniffs the smokey air and coughs slightly.
He yells to the kitchen: "Are you cooking jalapenos?, some kind of peppers or
something?"
"No! Asparagus and roast beef!" the host yells.
"I could've sworn it was jalapenos..."the guest mutters, trailing off. He appears to be lost in
thought.
Suddenly a vision appears to him, it is a jalapeno with the face of a man. The
face begins speaking to
him. "It's jalapenos, Jonathan. Can't you tell by the smell? That's what he's cooking, you
know."
The face smiles and then disappears.
The guest walks to the kitchen. "Hey, what's going on here," he sounds alarmed.
The host smiles, and holds up a frying pan which he has just been holding over an open flame.
On the frying pan lay three very large jalapenos, smoking and glistening with oil and grease.
The guest jumps back slightly, horrified, but trying to conceal it.
"Just cooking us some supper," the host replies, smiling again. "I'm so glad you're here, by the
way."
He looks at Jonathan for awhile, then goes back to cooking.
"I thought you said roast beef," Jonathan mutters as he leaves the kitchen.
He walks back to the living room and sits down on the sofa. The jalapeno appears to him again. This time it seems angry.
Jonathan implores it: "I don't know what's going on here. Please help me."
The jalapeno replies, "You're in a very bad situation now, you understand."
"What should I do?" Jonathan asks.
The jalapeno shakes it's head and disappears.
Out of the kitchen comes the
host, carrying a smoking plate of food. He sets it on the table infront of Jonathan, then sits across from his guest. He is apparently delighted to be serving
his guest.
Jonathan looks down at his plate and frowns. It is one of the jalapenos he saw before,
only now it has shrunk considerably. It does not look appetizing; it is bursting
with some sort of filling.
"Mmm, looks good," Jonathan says.
"It's crab," the host replies, beaming.
"Hmm."
They begin eating, silently.
"May I have some water?" Jonathan asks. He is beginning to sweat.
The host runs to the kitchen for a glass.

(to be continued...)

How To Become a Writer in 12 Steps: PART IV

We all want to be writers, it's a fact. The reason is simple: we want to create our own reality. And in fact, we already ARE writers. We create our own reality every day. Not through writing always, but through how we view the world. Take a quick scenario. You see a man driving a large pick-up truck. How do you interpret it? In other words, how do you WRITE it, IN YOUR MIND? Are you a pansy-ass liberal who sees the truck as a worthless status symbol? Or are you an asshole conservative who doesn't give a shit about anyone else and drives whatever the fuck he wants? Or, are you an enlightened piece of shit who delights in all human life, regardless of the trappings of this physical world? Either way, you are a piece of shit, no matter how you view the world. And that is the fourth lesson in our series.

STAY TUNED FOR PART FIVE: Getting Down To Brass Tacks--Writing Page One