Saturday, October 31, 2009

Thanksgiving Story

Too make up for how shitty the Halloween story turned out, here's an early Thanksgiving story. I sort of got the idea after reading Ian's comment on how boring Thanksgiving is.

"Why I hate Thanksgiving
You know what really sucks? Having to sit at the kiddy table during Thanksgiving dinner. You know what else sucks? Having to sit at the kiddy table during Thanksgiving when you're 17 years old. Every year at Grandma's I keep expecting to get to sit at the regular dinner table like an adult with full access to the food but every year I get regulated to the small card table in the next room. It's humiliating and I hate having to get up and ask for more food. It's like I'm a little kid again and I have to have ask the adults to load my plate for me.
This year was really bad because the turkey was dry and the stuffing had raisins in it and the cranberry sauce was the horrible canned stuff. It was all the food I didn't like. Thanksgiving is not a good holiday, it's like Christmas but you don't get any presents and there's no songs to sing or tree to put up. It's boring and I don't like it. I think we should get rid of Thanksgiving and make the whole month of November into Halloween."

You have to start writing full pages. I give you the whole hour on Monday's to do Journal writing and you keep turning in these half pages. I know you can do better. The most I can give you for this is a D. Your parents will also be receiving a call from me.
-Mrs. Grieves

I lied. The food was actually really good, as usual. I had gotten stuck at the kiddie table again and I really did hate it. I hate Mrs. Grieves writing assignments more. I love to write but not about things like "how to achieve world peace" or "sports I like." I had written full page really sarcastic pieces for those and gotten D's and a call to my parents about my "attitude." So I've tried to write full pages of "sincere" essays but I get sick of it halfway through. Actually, the Thanksgiving piece could have been a full page but Mrs. Grievous would have thought I was making it up just to be funny and then I'd get an F. God I hate that bitch. But since I'm just writing this for myself and no one but me is going to read it but me, here's what happened.

My sister Eileen is fifteen so she gets to sit at the kiddie table too. It was just us two and cousin Nicholas, who is five and who was making a disgusting diorama with his mashed potatoes and chocolate milk. I tried not to look at him.
"I hate sitting at this table." I mumbled and stabbed a piece of turkey.
"Well maybe if you didn't act like you were five they'd put at the normal table." Eileen said in that prim matter of fact voice that I hated so much.
"Well you should talk," I shot back, "Who was the one that let that pig loose at the Jr. High dance?"
"Hey! That was a team effort."
"Well it was your idea."
"So, it was stupid and juvenile."
Actually I did think it was pretty damn funny, especially when the pig pooped all over the dance floor and Kathi Heldman slipped and fell in it. But I was grumpy and wanted to argue.
Nicholas put his hand into his stuffing and squished it, singing a song while he did it. Eileen said nothing. I think I had hurt her and I actually felt bad. I didn't know how to make it better though so I just quietly ate my food.
In the other room someone laughed a bit too loud. That was probably Auntie Jessie, a victim of too much wine, per usual. I wondered if she'd jokingly ask me if I wanted some, she did it every year. I've always wanted to just snatch the glass away form her and and down it, just to see everyone's reaction. I'm always in enough trouble though so I don't.
I ate my food quick and went into the parlor early. After everyone is done eating they all retire here and sit around and bullshit and get drunk on wine until it's time to go home. It's mega boring.
I sat on the plastic covered couch in Grandma's parlor and thought. I thought about how old the icky yellow carpet was. It had to be early 1970s. I thought about how old the ribbon candy on the coffee table was. It had to be early 1930s. I tried to grab a piece and it came out of the bowl in one big clump. I dropped it in disgust. Eventually I got bored listening to the voices in my head and the steady tick of the wall clock and sat down at the piano. I plinked a few notes. Eventually I figured out how to play Mary had a Little Lamb and ran through it in different styles. I played it slow and sad, fast and jaunty, and somber and march like. Nicholas must have heard me because he came in and sat down and tried to push me off the bench.
"I play now!" He yelled, shoving me with his pudgy hands.
I laughed, I couldn't help it.
"But don't you want to hear my song?"
"Mommy says that you're a bad girl and that you're going to get knocked up and live in a trailer and work at Walmart. She says that's what happens to bad girls."
I frowned and pushed off the bench.
"Yeah, well your mom's a drunk with a big mouth."
"Imma tell her you said that!"
"Good!" I yelled as I walked out the door.

Eileen didn't say anything as I ran past the kitchen and the kiddie table. None of the adults said anything either as I ran out of the dining room door into the front yard. I wondered if they'd miss me if I just left. I knew where the library was in Grandma's town and I could go there and sit till I felt like coming back but then I'd get in trouble and get grounded again. Or worse, I'd get a lecture from Uncle Rob on responsibility like I did last year.
So I wandered around the yard. It was cold out, even though it hadn't snowed yet. I hadn't grabbed my jacket or my shoes. I looked down at my bare feet and laughed. I don't know why I found it funny, I just did. Grandma's yard is really small and I walked around the house three times before I started to get bored and cold. I was about to go back in when I wandered close to the neighbors property line and saw the For Sale sign swinging in the breeze. Then I remembered Grandma talking about how about a month ago they had just packed up and left. They were never on really good terms but it was a small neighborhood and no one seemed to know why they had gone or where they went to, which was odd. If someone sneezes in church in Grandma's town everyone talks about like the world is coming to an end.
I causally sauntered up and looked at the sign swinging in the breeze and up at the curtained windows. I looked back at Grandma's house across the yard. I imagined them all sitting in the parlor and talking and laughing and not caring about what happened to me. The hate that surged through me caught me off guard. I calmed myself down. You shouldn't hate your family, that was just wrong. As I chastised myself for being selfish and stupid I walked up the front steps and tried the doorknob, expecting it to be locked. To my surprise it opened and I stepped out of the cold November air, into the empty house....

It was colder inside than it was out and I shivered and watched my breath form in the air. It was overcast outside so it was very gloomy inside. I have a thing about empty houses, they don't feel right. I like to think of houses as living things that absorb a bit of the people that live in them. They develop personalities through years of different people moving in an out, but when a house is between owners it feels empty and sad. And also a bit creepy, like the house is watching you to see if you're going to adopt it. Standing in that house, looking down the hallway into the kitchen, I was probably more creeped out then I have ever been in my entire life. But I didn't want to go back yet and walked up the carpeted stairs, slowly, looking behind me to make sure I wasn't being followed...

The first door I opened was a bathroom. No big deal. I opened up the medicine cabinet. They may have left in a hurry, but they took everything with them, not an empty pill bottle in sight. I closed the cabinet and half expected to see a face appear in the glass like a cheap horror movie scare. Nothing. But I did still have the odd feeling that I was being watched. Nothing in the bathtub either, except a huge amount of nasty hair stuck in the drain.
The next door a little farther down must have been a bedroom. I walked to the window and looked out at my Grandma's house. It looked so far away and I was suddenly struck with an attack of loneliness. I thought about going back but decided to try the rest of the upstairs doors first. The next door on the right must have been another bedroom, a kid's room by the looks of it. I don't know too many adult's that have race car wallpaper. In the closet I found a small toy army man sitting alone in the corner. Someone had chewed up his head pretty good. I left him where I had found him.
Surprisingly, the next door down was locked. That was odd. Who locks a room when they move? I thought about breaking the door down. I thought about how cool it would be to find a whole room that had been left untouched. Then mother's voice spoke up in my head. Little Marie, can't stay out of trouble, what's to become of you? I shoved the voice out of my head and put my hands on the door to give it a push to see how well it would give and pulled away in disgust. The door was warm. Couldn't be. I put my hands back on it. No, it was. It was very warm. As I wondered how such a thing could be, something thumped in the room behind the door and my heart started to race. Then it thumped again, this time nearer to the door and I ran down the hallway and down the stairs...

At the bottom of the stairs I stopped and listened. The house was quiet again. I laughed at my stupid imagination. I was about to go back outside when I noticed something in the living room off to the right. They had left a piece of furniture behind, an end table. Curiously I walked over to it and tried the handle on it's small door. It was locked. Well, that wasn't going to keep me out. I sat down in front of it and kicked. It took two tries before the door broke inward. Stupid flimsy Walmart junk, I thought and I pulled the door out.

Inside was a small scrapbook full of pictures. It was the usual stuff, lots of pictures of a wedding and kids playing in yards. Happy people sitting around drinking beer. An ordinary family album, sort of boring if you don't know who the people in the pictures are. But about the middle, it got weird. It started with a picture of a woman, slightly pregnant, posing in the living room with her small belly out. She was smiling at the cameraman, who I assumed was her husband. As the pictures went on her stomach got bigger and bigger till it ended with her looking tired, lying in a hospital bed, but still very much pregnant. Then there several blank pages where pictures had obviously been torn out. You could still see the outlines of where they were. Then it went back to pictures of the lady, non-pregnant sitting in the kitchen doing a crossword puzzle. It went on for a bit with a few half-hearted pictures of the yard and a small black dog and then it just ended. I puzzled over it. Maybe the baby had died and they had torn them out in grief? It sounded plausible. I was about to put it away when several pictures fell out of the back of the album. I picked them up and looked at them in the dim light. I covered my mouth to cut back a scream and my whole body suddenly felt cold.
Something thumped against the door upstairs and I threw the album back into the end table and ran out of the house as fast as I could.

I sat and listened to Uncle Rob blabbing on about his new desk job. I didn't mind. I didn't mind my drunk aunt, or little Nicholas pounding away at the piano. It kept what I had seen out of my head for the time being, even though I knew that I would have nightmares for a long time. Plus it felt normal, it felt real. It felt safe.
On the way to the bathroom, I caught my sister coming back and surprised her by apologizing for what I had said earlier. I surprised her even more by giving her a hug. She didn't push me away though.
In the bathroom, I sat on the closed toilet and put my head in my hands and cried. After I felt back together again, I walked back into the parlor,sat down at the piano and taught Nicholas how to play Mary had a Little Lamb.

When we left that night I tried not to look at the empty house across the yard, but I ended up looking anyways. It sat in the dark, and empty forlorn thing, inviting me to come back to it, to stay forever. I wondered how long it was going to be before the thing upstairs got out. I told myself not to think about it. I've been thinking about it all week.

This is obviously fiction. I told you to write a true story about Thanksgiving and you give me this rubbish. You get an F for this paper and an F for the semester. I look forward to seeing you in class next year. Maybe then you'll be serious enough to get a passing grade.
-Mrs. Grieves

Friday, October 30, 2009

Special Birthday Poem for Matt

I heard it was your birthday
I wish it was mine too
Cause if it was my birthday
Here's exactly what I'd do
First I'd find some zombies
And I'd shoot them in the head
And then I'd burn their bodies
To make sure they were dead
I'd sneak on a rocket to the moon
And then find some alien chicks
So that we could spoon
If it were my birthday,that's what I would do

But it's not my birthday
I wasn't born today
So it doesn't matter what I'd do anyway
But if I wasn't a million miles away
I'd throw you a big party
And we'd hang out all damn day

Happy birthday Matt! I hope your day is full of huge piles of cake and hot girls that jump out of said cakes.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Music Videos to Trouble Your Sleep

Here's some creepy music vids to get you in the seasonal mood. Happy nightmares!

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Some Random Thoughts

This started out as random thoughts but I got stuck on TGWTG. I hope this is the least bit interesting. It's pretty much just gushing fan adoration.

Lately I've been trying to catch up on the videos on I became a fan of the site unfortunately way too late and it's taken me literally months to start catching up. And if you want to really be a fan you have to catch up since references from past videos get repeated a lot and cross overs between series happens quite frequently. It's a great site but it's certainly an immersive one. For a newcomer it can also be a bit daunting trying to weed out the good stuff from the bad. I've watched videos from quite a few contributers that I actively dislike (cough, Film Brain) but the major stars of the site are consistently awesome. So which ones do I usually hit up? Sigh. I suppose I'll make a list.

The Nostalgia Critic
Of course! The founder of TGWTG and the center of it's universe. I suppose you could just say all of Doug Walker's stuff is essential which would include Bum Reviews and Ask That Guy with the Glasses.

The Nostalgia Chick
The Nostalgia Critic's distaff counterpart. Well, sort of. She's very funny in her own right and sometimes her stuff rivals Doug's on the hilarity scale. Plus she's...well....damn cute. What? I have a thing for nerd girls okay! Leave me alone!

Linkara does snarky reviews of bad comics. Horrible stupid intelligence insulting comics. Like Charles Barkley fighting Godzilla or Superman fighting twin clones of Hitler (yes, those are both real comic book plots). Even though these are all really funny, I like to space them out and thus I haven't gotten through them all yet.

I've been a fan of Spoony for quite awhile and it's awesome that he seems to be becoming more and more a part of the site. Of course he does have his own website: Spoony Experiment. His FMV reviews are some of the funniest things I've ever seen on the Internet.

That Jewish Guy

This is one of those smaller contributors that I gave a watch to and ended up really liking. His style isn't as off the wall as the other reviewers, in fact he's pretty laid back. He's funny, plus I've learned a lot about Jewish culture which is a plus.

Marzgurl's early videos were kinda shaky but she's gotten better and is really starting to develop her own style. I'm really not that into anime but I still like her videos, they have a kind of offbeat charm that makes me smile. Sigh. And yes, I do have a slight crush on her, I admit it...

So those are the major ones...what was I originally going to talk about? Oh yeah, the ads! I just wanted to bitch about the ads that their provider, has been running. I don't know if it's just a blanket for all the sites that use their service but you'd think they'd put site specific ads up. There's two of them that play before you load a video and they're both annoying as shit and since I'm catching up on videos, I've had to watch them both a million times! If you've been on the site latley, I think you'll know what I'm talking about. There's one for a clothing store and one for vodka and they're both stuck in my brain! I kind of think of TGWTG as a sort of nerdy site, so they don't really seem appropriate.

Alright, I will shut up now.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Lets Me Knife, Knife Me Lets

I've decided that tonight, as a special writing exercise, I'm going to try and write the creepiest poem I possibly can. The title is from a lyric in Caribou, the first song on The Pixies first EP. It's a Pixies type poem, the verses are soft acoustic guitar and the choruses are loud screaming electric pain.

My blood for you
Spilled on the floor
I've bled so much
It doesn't mean anything
I see you walking
Home from school
Your short little dress
Makes me a fool
Why do you wear
Those ribbons in your hair?
You little whore...

I want to take you
Pin you to the wall
Smear your blood
All over my hall
Then you'll be mine
Forever more
Just me and my good friend
Maria the whore

I've got your pictures
Up above my bed
They're the only things I see
When I lay down my head
I dream of me
Inside of you
You try to scream
But there is nothing
Nothing you can do

I wanna take you
Never let you go
I've got so much pain
I want you to know
But you'll make it better
I know you can
I'll rip out my heart
And put it bleeding
Bleeding in your hands

I was there
At your graduation day
When you were finally done
With the sixth grade
You looked so pretty
In your new dress
Inside my pants
I made a mess
They took my camera
And they threw me out
Now tell me Maria
What was that about?
You could have said something
When I got pushed out the door
I'll make you pay
You lousy whore

I wanna take you
And cut you deep
Inside your body
I'll fall asleep
And when I wake up
We will be one
And I'll forget
All the things you've done
I love you Maria
And thats a fact
But I'd love you more
If you couldn't talk back

Monday, October 26, 2009

Creativegarbagedump will not be seen tonight... I can bring you the second installment of Cinema Sewer!: Click here for fun and excitement and Robert Z'Dar's chin!

I'm sorry for the lack of funny in this one, this movie was just so incredibly bad, but not in a funny way at all. It was so bad that it's actually depressing and so incoherent that it was hard to even focus on, let alone find interesting things to write about it.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Close But No Cigar by Weird Al (Annotated)

I thought up this idea up when I was listening to this song today. It's made up almost entirely of references of one sort or another so I thought it'd be interesting to point them all out. Regular story type stuff will continue tomorrow.

Close But No Cigar (1)
Jillian was her name
She was sweeter than aspartame(2)
Her kisses reconfigured my DNA(3)
And after that I never was the same

And I loved her even more
Than Marlon Brando(4) loved soufflé(5)
She was gorgeous, she was charming
Yeah, she was perfect in every way

Except she was always using the word "infer"
When she obviously meant "imply"(6)
And I know some guys would put up with that kind of thing
But frankly, I can't imagine why

And I told her, I said
"Hey! Are we playing horseshoes, honey?(7)
No, I don't think we are!
You're close! (Close!)
But no cigar!"

Then I met sweet young Janet
Prettiest thing on the planet(8)
Had a body hotter than a habañero(9)
She had lips like a ripe pomegranate(10)

And I was crazy like Manson about her(11)
She got me all choked up like Mama Cass(12)
She had a smile so incredibly radiant
You had to watch it through a piece of smoked glass(13)

I thought after all these years of searching around
I'd found my soulmate(14) finally
But one day I found out she actually owned a copy
Of Joe Dirt on DVD(15)

Oh, no! I said
"Hey! Are we lobbing hand grenades, kiddo? (16)
No I don't think we are!
You're close! (Close!)
Oh, so very close! (Close!)
Yeah, baby, you're close! (Close!)
So close!
But no cigar!"

Julie played water polo(17)
She wore a ribbon on her left Manolo(18)
She had me sweating like Nixon(19) every time she was near
My heart was beating like a Buddy Rich solo(20)

And she was everything I've dreamed of
She moved right up to #1 on my list
And did I mention she's a world famous billionaire
Bikini supermodel astrophysicist(21)

Yeah, she was so pretty she made Charlize Theron(22)
Look like a big fat slobbering pig
The only caveat(23) is one of her earlobes
Was just a little tiny bit too big(24)

I said
"Hey! Are we doing government work here?(25)
No I don't think we are!
You're close! (Close!)
So very, very close! (Close!)
Aaw, baby, you're close! (Close!)
So close!
But no cigar!"

Missed it by that much! (No cigar!)
Ah, yeah! Ah, right! (No cigar!)
Really, really, really close! (No cigar!)
But no cigar!

(1) The title is a reference to a popular saying that probably came from traveling carnival con men, back when they could legally give away cigars as prizes for their rigged games. It simply means that you almost accomplished your goal but still fell short. I've also heard the more PC expression "close but no banana" when I was a kid, I think Garfield might have said it.

(2) Aspartame is an artificial sweetener marketed under the names Equal, NutraSweet, and Canderel. Controversial when it was first introduced, it has since been proven safe for consumption by The European Scientific Committee on Food and the FDA. I'm sure that bribes from the Monsanto Corporation had nothing to do with it's being approved...

(3) DNA stands for Deoxyribonucleic acid, which is often called by laymen such as you or I, the "blueprint for all life on earth." I don't know much about DNA but I can guess that if one's DNA was reconfigured one would, at best, be horribly mutated. For more information regarding DNA please consult your friendly neighborhood geneticist. He should be located in a small beaker filled building next to the local K-Mart. Don't say anything about the pigeon/rat monster he's created and he'll be happy to answer any questions you may have.

(4) Marlon Brando, Jr. (April 3, 1924 – July 1, 2004) was an American actor best known for his method acting in such movies as On the Waterfront, The Godfather, and The Wild One, and for blimping up to 1000 LBS and going completely insane later in his life. For an interesting movie marathon, rent the aforementioned films along with The Missouri Breaks and The Island of Dr. Moreau. Young Brando Vs. Old fat crazy Brando should make for interesting after movies conversation.

(5) A Soufflé is a type of cake. I hear they're quite tasty but I've never had one. An old joke in sitcoms and cartoons is that if any loud noise is made while a Soufflé is in the oven, it will fall and be ruined. Of course it will inevitably fall at the end of the episode. Cue wah wah failure trombones.

(6) Infer is short for inference. To infer something means to jump to a conclusion using logic of some sort. For instance: "all clowns are creepy. All pedophiles are also creepy. Therefore all clowns must be pedophiles."
To imply something simply means to suggest or subtly hint at.
The girl in the song is using the word infer by saying "What are you inferring?" But she really meant to say "What are you implying?"
I'd be pissed if someone kept mixing the two up also. I think it's a hangable offense in some countries.

(7) Mr. Yankovic is referencing a popular saying "almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades." You don't have to be right on the pole to get a point in horseshoes. You also don't have to be right on target to blow the ever loving fuck out of something with a hand grenade. What would you get if you combined horseshoes and hand grenades? The most awesome game ever invented, thats what!

(8) This might be a reference to Interplanet Janet on the old Schoolhouse Rock cartoons of Saturday mornings past. Or it could just be an easy rhyme.

(9) A habañero is a type of chili pepper that is classified as one of the hottest most pain inducing on the planet. Eat one and it will burn the shit out of your mouth and throat and then take your sister out on a date to Burger King. It will make her pay for her own food and then grope her in the car on the way back home. The habañero is also known as the "douchebag pepper."

(10) The Pomegranate is a type of edible fruit. I have never eaten one so I have no way of knowing if having lips like a ripe one is a good or a bad thing.

(11) Charles Milles Manson (born November 12, 1934) is indeed crazy. A failed musician, he formed the Manson family of equally crazy followers who went out and murdered a pregnant Sharon Tate who was married to Roman Polanski at the time. Manson also claimed that references in Beatles songs were telling him to do things. Thats not as bad as The Son of Sam claiming to get instructions from his neighbor's dog, but it's still pretty crazy. Hey, that's a pretty morbid reference isn't it? It's not as bad as the next reference though.

(12) 'Mama' Cass Elliot (September 19, 1941 – July 29, 1974) was a singer in the popular pop group The Mamas and the Papas who's biggest hit was California Dreaming. You may remember her from the HR Puf N Stuf movie. She died of a heart attack in her sleep in 1974. Being a rather large woman, a popular rumor started spinning around the schoolyards and water coolers that she had died by choking on a ham sandwich.
One creepy little note, she died in the same flat as The Who drummer Keith Moon would die in four years later. Keith Moon did not die by choking on a ham sandwich but rather from a massive amount of pills he had consumed. Make a joke out of that ya sickos!

(13) Smoked glass simply means glass that has been darkened to allow the person viewing an extremely bright object to view it without damage to the eyes. No joke here folks. Next!

(14) Your soulmate is your perfect mate, someone who you feel should be with you for life because your souls are bound together as one. This term is only really used by creepy stalkers as they write letters to girls in their own blood.

(15) Joe Dirt is a 2001 comedy film starring David Spade. Comedic highlights of said film include: A meteor that turns out to be a lump of frozen shit, hilarious incest, and a dog that gets his testicles frozen to a porch. If I found out my girlfriend owned this movie I would probably dump her too. Unless she let me blow it up with firecrackers.

(16) See note seven.

(17) Water polo is an Olympic sport which, if I understand right, it sort of like hockey but played in a pool. And no, it isn't played with horses. Sigh. I hate that joke.

(18) A Manolo is a type of very expensive high heeled shoe. Wearing ribbons around them is optional but fabulous!

(19) Richard Milhous Nixon (January 9, 1913 – April 22, 1994) was the 37th President of the United States and to quote Johnathan Coulton: "A sweating filthy liar." Even though his foreign policies weren't that bad, his tenure is mostly known for how corrupt it was, culminating in The Watergate Scandal which lead to his impeachment which lead to his being the only president to resign before he was kicked out. In the Futurama world, his head is president again.

(20) Bernard "Buddy" Rich (September 30, 1917 – April 2, 1987) was an American Jazz drummer and bandleader. To say that he was quite good is an understatement. To say that he was also an unimaginable prick is also an understatement. Despite being a horrible person, he is still influential in percussionist circles and his name is spoken with reverence. (His ex-bandmates still think he's a prick though.)

(21) astrophysicists study the physics of the universe which is pretty hardcore since to be one, you have to know a shit ton of physics stuff and be hella smart yo, word to ya mother dawg. Supermodels are overly skinny but good looking females who pose in skimpy clothing to make guys drool and real females feel bad about their bodies. Most of them aren't known for their smarts, however.

(22) Charlize Theron (born August 7, 1975) is an actress who is very hot. Her acting skills are negligible, but dood, she's so hot yo! Her first movie was Children of the Corn III, a fine film if I have ever seen one.

(23) Caveat simply means "a warning." For example Caveat emptor simply means "let the buyer beware."

(24) I'm not sure if it's possible to have an earlobe a different size than your other one. I am sure, however, that if it is possible then there's a fetish dedicated to it somewhere on the Internet. I have no desire to look, however.

(25) This refers to a popular saying: "As close as government work." I'm guessing that this is supposed to be sarcastic since government work is supposed to be close and exact. Er, nevermind, it doesn't make much sense. Stupid chiched sayings.

Friday, October 23, 2009

If Ziggy Comics Didn't Sugarcoat Anything

I was browsing TVtropes at work today and found this image on the Ziggy page.

I think that pretty much sums up what every Ziggy comic is really trying to say underneath the bad puns.

Here's my attempt (today) at making Ziggy funnier.

My Text Based Adventure Game Part 3

Start game from last save point.
Game loaded.

You are standing in a small dungeon like cell. The door is wide open and you can see the guard who was previously guarding you, now asleep on his feet.
> Check inventory
You are currently holding: A metal pan, a hollowed out book, a small yellow whistle, a grease smeared tunic, and a flask of clear liquid.
> Put tunic on
How about no? That things pretty gross man. You'll have to stay naked for the time being.
> Play with self
Dude, what kind of a game do you think this is?
> Blow whistle
You give the tiny yellow thing a mighty blow but nothing happens.
> Blow whistle again
Something smacks you upside the head and knocks you out. When you awake, your whistle is gone. Nice going.
> Drink liquid
You quaff the clear liquid down in three greedy gulps. It tastes like bacon flavored vodka but doesn't seem to have any adverse effects.
> Walk out of dungeon
You try to but you find that your body is suddenly bloated and disgusting. It rapidly expands, occasionally growing nasty tentacles of loose flesh and muscle. You grab the guard with one of these and crush his body into pulp, which you then absorb. Your now sick bloated form fills the small room and crashes through the roof. As you look out over the landscape you realize that you now have unlimited power and can now eat the universe! You slog around the land, eating any trees and cows in your path till a farmer stabs you with his pitchfork and all of your fluids leak out, leaving you a nasty mess on the ground. You are cut up and your skin is used for clothing for several small farm families. At least you did some good before you died right? Sadly, it doesn't make your demise suck any less.

You are standing in a small dungeon like cell. The door is wide open and you can see the guard who was previously guarding you, now asleep on his feet.
> Walk out of cell
You are standing in front of the sleeping guard. To your left is an open door down a short passageway. Past the wall the guard is leaning against, is a set of stairs leading upward and a passageway leading to the right. To your immediate right is a passageway featuring a row of prison doors.
> Look at guard
Wow, he's an ugly mother isn't he? Good thing he's asleep. He is wearing rather heavy looking leather armor and a hat with horns sticking out the sides. Around his neck is a satchel. At his side is a heavy looking ax.
> Pick up ax
You try with all your might but the ax is too heavy for the puny likes of you.
> Take hat from guard
Deftly you pull the hat off the guards head waking him up in the process. Of course.
"Oi!" He shouts, "Whats all this then? A hat thief? Hey, aren't you supposed to be in your cell?"
He punches you hard and when you wake up you are strapped to a stretching rack and the guard is burning your feet with a hot iron.
"Teach you to steal hats from me!" Says the guard.

You are standing in a small dungeon like cell. The door is wide open and you can see the guard who was previously guarding you, now asleep on his feet.
> Walk out of cell
You are standing in front of the sleeping guard. To your left is an open door down a short passageway. Past the wall the guard is leaning against, is a set of stairs leading upward and a passageway leading to the right. To your immediate right is a passageway featuring a row of prison doors.
> Look at guards satchel
It's large and brown and looks like it has interesting things inside of it. Just like your sister!
> Take satchel
You deftly lift the satchel strap and bring it over the guards head, thankfully he doesn't wake up. Good thing you didn't try to take his hat! I hear he's very attached to it.
The satchel will now double as your inventory.
> Check inventory
You are holding: A metal pan, a hollowed out book, a small yellow whistle, a grease smeared tunic, a flask of clear liquid, a small brown bottle, and a small half eaten sandwich.
> Look at bottle
It's a small brown bottle.
> Open bottle
You pull out the stopper. Pee-u! It's smells like the groin area of a Garunther after a week of not bathing. (Not that you'd know anything about that, right?)
> Look at sandwich
It's a small half eaten sandwich. The meat looks pretty rotten and the cheese is way past stale. But maybe it will have a use later...HINT HINT!
> Move down right hallway
You are standing in front of what looks like a combination of torture chamber and armory. There's lots of nasty looking torture devises every where but also racks of swords and shields and armor. Sitting in the far corner next to the rack is a grumpy looking fat man in black robes.
> Save game
Game save in progress...
Game saved.
> Enter room
You enter and the man stands up.
"Hey you!" He shouts, "What are you doing here all naked like that? Are you an escaped prisoner?"
> Sing the man a song
The man's jaw drops open.
"That's the rebellion's national song! You are supposed to be a prisoner!"
Soon you find yourself in another cell but this time you are chained up to a wall with no chance of escape at all. Soon you die of starvation and the rats eat your body.

You are standing in front of what looks like a combination of torture chamber and armory. There's lots of nasty looking torture devises every where but also racks of swords and shields and armor. Sitting in the far corner next to the rack is a grumpy looking fat man in black robes.
> Enter room
You enter and the man stands up.
"Hey you!" He shouts, "What are you doing here all naked like that? Are you an escaped prisoner?"
> No
The man smiles. "Alright then! I'm gonna go get me a bite to eat. It's pretty boring around here with no one to torture! Could you watch the room for me while I'm gone? Make sure no one steals anything, thanks!"
And with that he waddles down the hallway and out of your sight, completely ignoring the sleeping guard.
> Look at swords
There's three different kinds: Sharp looking master swords, curved scimitars, and puny little daggers.
> Take master sword
Hooray, now you're armed! Now you can stab things!
> Take dagger
Hey, don't get greedy now! One sword is enough for the likes of you!
> Look at shields
There's three kinds: Fancy looking metal Hyrulian shields, strange looking small shields that are probably magic of some sort, and used shields that are full of holes.
> Take Hyrulian Shield
Good choice! Of course that will make the game easier but also more boring, but who am I to tell you how to play? *cough cough, wuss*
> Look at armor
There's only leather type armor. Take it or leave it.
> Take armor
Great, now you're not naked! Of course you still have no underwear on...
> save game
Game save in progress...
Game saved.
> Quit
Are you sure you want to quit? The game is just getting good!
> Yes
Fine, go have a real life while your character sits and waits for you to come back. We'll just play cards and talk about you behind your back....

Stay tuned for part 4 tomorrow!

Thursday, October 22, 2009

My Text Based Adventure Game Part 2

The convoluted solution!

> Take off cloak.
Now you're cold and naked. That accomplished a lot.
> Use cloak on pan.
You wipe the filthy rags you were wearing around the pan, covering it in sickening meat grease.
> Put cloak down rat hole.
You stuff the nasty rags down the hole. You feel a tug on the end of it!
> Take cloak.
You pull the cloak out of the hole to find several rats clinging to the bottom, gnawing away. One of them has a key around it's neck!
> Grab rat.
It looks rather plaguey, I wouldn't if I were you.
> Grab key.
Very carefully you pinch the key between your fingers and pull. The rat stops gnawing and falls to the ground, but the key is in your fingers! You throw the cloak as hard as you can against the wall and step on the rats as they try to scurry away, smashing their little furry bodies beneath your feet. That ought to show them! You think as their pathetic little squeaks fade away...
> Use key on book.
You insert the ky in the lock and turn and it snaps open!
> Open book.
You open the book expecting it be maybe be a Gideon's Bible or insurance seminar pamphlet, but there's no writing to be found! You open to the middle of the book. You see a small whistle in the hollowed out pages.
> Get whistle.
You have the whistle. What fun.
> Look whistle.
It's a small yellow whistle. Hooray?
> Blow whistle.
You put the whistle to your lips and blow with all your might...
Game save in progress....
Progress saved.
No sound emits out of the end of the whistle. You wait for something to happen. After what seems like forever, you get bored and sit on the ground. You're about to throw the whistle away when a large red demon appears in the middle of the room! Just look at his demonic red horns! And goat legs! And silk women's undergarments and pimp jacket? What kind of a demon is this?
> Talk to demon.
"I AM THE GREAT AND POWERFUL MEPHISTO" He starts, "YOU SHALL..." He interrupts himself with a fit of coughing.
"Sorry about that. Damn, I really need to quit smoking. Um, you blew the whistle right?
> Yes.
"Well what the Hell did you want man? I've got these ladies over and we've got all this wine to drink and we were gonna watch Twilight.
> Tell the demon that Twilight sucks.
He points a finger and suddenly the world goes dark. When you wake you are sitting in a movie theater. You are tied up and your eyes are being held open with pointy metal things. Guess what movie is playing? That's right, you get to watch Twilight for all eternity! You're not dead...but I bet you wish you were!

Restart from last save point...
No sound emits out of the end of the whistle. You wait for something to happen. After what seems like forever, you get bored and sit on the ground. You're about to throw the whistle away when a large red demon appears in the middle of the room! Just look at his demonic red horns! And goat legs! And silk women's undergarments and pimp jacket? What kind of a demon is this?
> Talk to demon.
"I AM THE GREAT AND POWERFUL MEPHISTO" He starts, "YOU SHALL..." He interrupts himself with a fit of coughing.
"Sorry about that. Damn, I really need to quit smoking. Um, you blew the whistle right?
> Yes.
"Well what the Hell did you want man? I've got these ladies over and we've got all this wine to drink and we were gonna watch Twilight.
> Ask the demon for help in escaping.
He points a finger and the world goes dark. When you wake you are strapped to a table. A man in a tweed coat walks around you reading from a large book which you eventually realize is your ninth grade math book! You're not dead, but I bet you wish you were!

Restart from last save point...
No sound emits out of the end of the whistle. You wait for something to happen. After what seems like forever, you get bored and sit on the ground. You're about to throw the whistle away when a large red demon appears in the middle of the room! Just look at his demonic red horns! And goat legs! And silk women's undergarments and pimp jacket? What kind of a demon is this?
> Talk to demon.
"I AM THE GREAT AND POWERFUL MEPHISTO" He starts, "YOU SHALL..." He interrupts himself with a fit of coughing.
"Sorry about that. Damn, I really need to quit smoking. Um, you blew the whistle right?
> Yes.
"Well what the Hell did you want man? I've got these ladies over and we've got all this wine to drink and we were gonna watch Twilight.
> Ask the demon to please help you escape.
"Well," He says, rubbing his goatee, "Since you were polite about it...ALAKAZAMMM!" He shouts and red lightening surges through the room! The demon laughs manically and then is interrupted by another coughing fit.
"Sorry," he says and the lightening stops. "Here.." He points towards the door, which quietly swings open. "The guard is asleep, try not to wake him up and...oh wait, do you think you can do something for me?"
> Yeah sure.
He pulls out a flask and offers it to you.
"There's a witch that lives in this dungeon, take this flask to her. She'll know who it's from. He winks and you suppress a shiver.
> Take flask.
"Well, TTFN! Ta Ta for Now!" He exclaims and suddenly the room is filled with red smoke! When it evaporates, the demon is still standing looking at you. He shrugs his shoulders and walks out the door.
> Look at flask.
It's your average everyday round flask. It's full of some weird clear liquid.
Save progress...
Progress saved.
Are you sure you want to quit?
Goodbye quitter!

Part 3 tomorrow!

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Late Night Thoughts

I got off work for a half day today and of course I wasted it by sleeping through my time off. My brain did the seeing spiders thing again, twice! I woke up once and there was a little yellow one scurrying right by my head that vanished when I quickly turned the light on. That one was at least plausible, but then it tried it again by dangling a huge black one from the ceiling and there was no way that one could have been real. I'm still trying to figure out why this keeps happening. I'm not scared of bugs and spiders normally, in fact I love the damn things. I suppose the idea of them crawling on me while I sleep is kind of freaky though, maybe thats where my brain is coming from. Maybe I'm just going insane.

So anyways, because I took a much too long nap today, I'm now unable to sleep at the moment, aimlessly wandering the Internet. It's a total loss though, I did find this webcomic that looks like it just got started up: Loneliest Astronauts. I really like the way it looks and the jokes are pretty funny. Check it out if you get a chance.

Speaking of funny, I was thinking today about what kind of sitcom I would write, If I were to write a sitcom. It would be a really depressing show about a family of drunken abusive trailer trash, but it would have the standard annoying laff track.
Husband: "I told you not to talk back bitch!" *Smack*
Audience: "Ooooooh*
Wife: "If you ever touch me again, I'll kill you, do you understand? I'll fucking kill you!"
Audience: (Laughs)
Husband: "Not if I cut your fucking fingers off first!"
Audience: (laughs)
Then the husband proceeds to chop off his wife's fingers while the audience roars with laughter.
Do you think the studio executives would go for it? How about if I made one of the teenage characters X-treme? Is there such a thing as X-treme trailer trash? No, I guess it'd have to be the annoying neighbor kid. He'd always be coming over and spouting his catchphrases till the husband chases him off with a sawed off shotgun.
What should I call this show? How about According to Jim Bob? Or How I Drove Your Mother to Suicide? Or Eight Simple Rules for Knocking Up my Teenage Daughter?
And Danny Trejo would defiantly have to be in it, because he's just so awesome. I'd make him a bad ass preacher that recites bible verses while kicking ass at least once every episode. Who wants to back me on this? It could be the greatest show ever! Hmmm, maybe I could get Robert Rodriguez to direct...

I suppose I should try to go to sleep. I just hope the damn spiders stay away...

A bit about text based adventure games

Graphics? We don't need no stinking graphics!
The world of text based games is an almost completely forgotten one. In fact, even though they were massively popular for quite awhile, once computer games actually started using graphics, these games quickly became forgotten. I still love them though, but it's a tough love. Here's why:

They're freaking hard! The fact that you really have to use your imagination is one of the major draws of these games, but also a major drawback. I've played a few where I had to constantly keep typing in "look" because I kept forgetting what was in the room I was in!
There was one where I managed to get out of the house I was in, and was walking down the street and ended up in this maze of alleyways. I got to the end of it but to find your way back out, you had to go the exact opposite of the way you came in, which I had no idea I was going to have to do otherwise I would have written down the way I came in! I ended up dying and getting eaten by a vulture.
One of the most infamous text based games is the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy game. Simply put, it is the hardest game ever made, bar none. If you can even get out of the house before it's bulldozed without using a guide, I salute you.
Another major problem is the text input. You have to be very specific sometimes on what you want to do. Some games, Like the Zork series, are programmed pretty well, but I've played some that are damn frustrating because you can't figure out what you need to input.
If you want to actually play some of these games I'd suggest Zork and the other Infocom games first: There's also websites where people have made their own, which range from good to horrible.
I'll be back to continue little homage to this genre tomorrow. Stay tuned!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

My Text Based Adventure Game Part 1

I didn't physically write this at work today, but I made up most of it in my head.

You wake up in a dungeon made of crude stones. You are wearing a simple cloak made of cheap itchy wool. To your left is an empty food pan. To your right is a pile of filthy straw that you guess must serve as a bed. In front of you is a window high up in the wall. Behind you is a wooden door that contains a barred window. You have no recollection of how you got here. Must have been a wild night.
> Pick up pan.
The pan is in your hand Stan.
> Look at pan.
It's your standard prisoner feeding pan, pounded out of thin metal and coated with a thin film of grease. Pretty nasty if you ask me.
> Pound on door.
"Hey!" A loud angry voice yells from behind the door. "Keep it down in there or you'll be sorry!"
> Pound on door.
A large man wearing heavy looking leather armor barges through the doorway. "What did I just tell you!" He yells and clefts your head in twain with his giant battle ax. Now you're dead. Congratulations.

You wake up in a dungeon made of crude stones. You are wearing a simple cloak made of cheap itchy wool. To your left is an empty food pan. To your right is a pile of filthy straw that you guess must serve as a bed. In front of you is a window high up in the wall. Behind you is a wooden door that contains a barred window. You have no recollection of how you got here. Must have been a wild night.
> Pick up pan.
The pan is in your hand Stan.
> Look out window on door.
You can see a part of a hallway that looks like it goes to a stairs, but the view is mostly blocked by a wall which a large man in heavy looking leather armor is leaning against. My that battle ax looks nasty, wouldn't want to piss him off!
> Look at straw.
It's a pile of straw, filthy and crawling with chiggers, lice, and several other nasty looking things you'd rather not look too closely at.
> Look at window.
The window is high above your head. Light streams through the bars and you can faintly hear birds chirping.
> Climb up to window.
You try to climb up the rocks but succeed in doing nothing but severely hurting your fingers before falling back down to the dirty floor. Nice going Einstein.
> Scream.
You let out a girlish shriek. "Hey!" Says the man behind the door. "Don't make me have to come in there!"
> Poop.
You squat down and push with all your might. Soon a steaming lump of feces is your new cell mate. You muse on when the last time it was that you ate corn.
> Eat poop.
You pick up the steaming pile and shove it in your mouth. It tastes like shit, go figure. The door swings open. "Hey," Says the large scary man, "We've decided that we were wrong to throw you in here, and we're going to let you go you're free to..."
He pauses, and a look of horror and disgust uglifies his already ugly face.
"You sick bastard!" He swings his ax and cuts your head clean off. Now you're dead. Congratulations.

You wake up in a dungeon made of crude stones. You are wearing a simple cloak made of cheap itchy wool. To your left is an empty food pan. To your right is a pile of filthy straw that you guess must serve as a bed. In front of you is a window high up in the wall. Behind you is a wooden door that contains a barred window. You have no recollection of how you got here. Must have been a wild night.
> Pick up pan.
The pan is in your hand Stan.
> Hit self on head with pan.
TWANG! That didn't accomplish much. And now your head hurts.
> Sing and dance.
You dance a merry jig and sing Ace of Base till you're depressed and sit down on the floor and cry.
> Kill self.
Kill self with what?
> Kill self with pan.
Despite the excruciating pain, you use the jagged edge of the pan to cut your own throat open. Before you fade away completely, the rats come out of their hiding places and start gnawing on your body. You are dead. Congratulations.

You wake up in a dungeon made of crude stones. You are wearing a simple cloak made of cheap itchy wool. To your left is an empty food pan. To your right is a pile of filthy straw that you guess must serve as a bed. In front of you is a window high up in the wall. Behind you is a wooden door that contains a barred window. You have no recollection of how you got here. Must have been a wild night.
> Pick up pan.
The pan is in your hand Stan.
> Look under pile of straw.
You fling the straw aside ignoring the nasty little creatures that scatter for cover. You see a book where there once was straw.
> Pick up book.
You have the book in hand man.
> Read book.
You can't very well read it if it's closed now can you? Stupid.
> Open book.
You would be able to open it but it has a lock on it. Did you really think it would be that easy?
> Break lock.
Break lock with what?
> Break lock with pan.
TWANG! TWANG! TWANG! TWANG! It doesn't seem to be working very well. "Hey!" A voice shouts from behind the door. "Keep it quiet in there! If I have to come in, you'll be sorry!" You'd better stop!
> Curse at lock.
The lock remains steadfast despite your dirty mouth.
> Take off cloak.
Now you're cold and naked. That accomplished a lot.
> Look on ground for key.
You sift through the dirt with your fingers. Your hands are now filthy with filth, but still no key. You find a rat hole in the floor.
> Stick hand down rat hole.
Ouch! Something bit you! You pull your hand out and look at your bleeding wound. As you watch, it turns black and so does your whole hand! It runs up your arm till your whole body is diseased. You slump on the floor and wish for death, which eventually comes. You are dead. Congratulations.

Alright guys, what do you think the solution to this puzzle is?

Monday, October 19, 2009

Writings from Work

Most of the work I do is on a computer so when my computer breaks or is running slow, it's very frustrating. Today I got pissed that it kept freezing up and said "fuck it" (not out loud though!) and pulled out some paper and wrote some stuff. Surprisingly it made the day go by a lot faster even though I had to keep hiding it when anyone walked by my cubicle.


This thing didn't turn out very well...
When I was a kid, 3rd street contained a small block of antique shops full of interesting junk. My mother would take me there a lot on Saturday afternoons and let me roam through the stores while she rummaged. I loved those old shops, there was always something new to find or some new room to discover and they all seemed impossibly large. There was one place that we never went though and that was the small book store situated right in the middle of the other buildings. I never understood why we never went in and so it was always a mysterious place. I only ever got to go in once, when I was twelve years old and I was allowed to ride my bike into town for the first time.
The place was run by an old man with pure white hair who sat behind the counter and said nothing when I walked in. I spent hours getting lost in the maze of shelves and only left when I realized that I was going to be late for supper. I bought two books with my allowance money: Moby Dick and Lord of the Flies. The old man didn't say anything when I checked out or when I promised to be back when I had more money. He just sat there looking sad as he put the money into the cash register. As I biked away I could see him sitting by the window, his white hair standing out against the gloom inside like some pathetic ghost. I never got to go back.
A couple weeks later the whole block was bought out and all the buildings were torn down. A Walmart/mall was built in it's place, followed by a rash of fast food joints. I rode my bike down there shortly after it opened. I walked around the mall and watched the people shuffle around the floor like zombies, going in and out of stores, they're lives so coated with misery that it radiated off of them in waves. There was a bookstore but it was all over priced and some lady brought her bratty kids in and let them free to run up and down the aisles, tearing books off shelves while the staff just picked them up and put them back if they kids weren't chewing on them. I couldn't stand to be in the Walmart for more than five minuets, the living dead had clustered there like a meat truck had overturned.
When I walked out I discovered that someone had cut the lock on my bike and I had to walk home. I never went back.

Attempts at Haiku
Old alleyway drunk
Coughs up blood on the ground
Death is imminent

So good a website
New comic everyday
Hooray for Dumm Comics!

So bad a writer
Preteen girls go nuts
But vampires do not sparkle

Cranky old woman
Screams at girl behind counter
Smells of old stale piss

Computer won't work
Keeps freezing up constantly
I need a strong drink

Frank Black's howling screams
Against Kim Deal's angel's voice
Pixies are divine

Pirate poem
All year round I sail upon the seas
You've never met a pirate quite like me
I wear my high heels out on the deck
And frilly lace around my neck
I may be a man
But I choose not to be
You've never met a pirate quite like me

I love to hear the roar of guns
But hate when my mascara runs
I'll fight for my ship until I break a nail
My vessel's a beaut as you can see
Sailing the waves so wild and free
And it's the only one with a pink embroidered sail!

So give a heave and a ho and a yarr!
As we sail the seas both near and far
I'm the meanest rat that ever you will meet
And I do it all while wearing pink panties!
You've never met a pirate quite like me!

Oh my dearest I wuv you
I wuv you so much it huwts my heawt
To not be neaw your beauty youw wight
pains my vewy sowl
My deaw won't you mawwy me?

"Argle Bargle!" Jimmy said as he bit the head off of his teacher, blood spurting in lovely streams from her neck. She tasted like old perfume and Elmer's glue and he spit her head out onto the desk, right as the school principal walked in.
"Oh my gawd!" He shouted in horror, "You've killed Mrs. Robinson!"
Then he looked behind him nervously.
"Er...Jimmy? Before we call the police, do you think I can get a look at her boobs quick?"

Foom backwards is Moof

I'll see if I can sneak some writing in tomorrow too. It's fun doing something I love when I'm supposed to be doing something boring.
Oh and I got a new shirt today with this guy on it:

If you can tell me what cartoon he's from, then congratulations! You're just as messed up in the head as I am!

Sunday, October 18, 2009

My Life's Philosophies

1. Everybody's life sucks, most people's suck worse than yours. Quit whining about it and find a way to make it suck less.

2. Don't kill animals unless it's necessary or you're going to eat what you kill. And you fuckers that kill sharks for "sport" deserve to rot in a Hell where you're hung up by your feet from a hook while pasty white tourists take pictures of your corpse and drink beer.

3. Respect is something that you have to earn. If you work in a big office and wear a fancy suit and tie, it doesn't mean shit if you're a terrible excuse for a human being.

4. Don't smile or laugh unless you actually have something to smile or laugh about.

5. Every piece of art, be it a film, painting, novel, or piece of music, is worth experiencing at least once. Even if it's bad, a lot of blood, sweat, and tears went into the making of it and it has value. (Even if that value is just to marvel at how bad it is.)

6. History is made up of sketchy lies, take it all with a grain of salt.

7. The best and most memorable moments in life are made sitting around and talking with friends. (Cheesy I know, but very very true, at least from my experience.)

8. Having a boss sucks. Find a way to not have to report to one every day.

9. Calm contentedness is sitting by yourself with a book and listening to the rain pour outside your window.

10. If your house is so full of stuff that you have to rent outside storage space to put it in, then you have too much stuff.

11. Coke tastes best in glass bottles.

12. Nothing is ever as bad as it seems. And if it is, then you've most likely fucked up pretty bad and probably deserve whatever's coming to you.

13. Human beings have an elevated sense of importance about themselves that, to me, seems very unwarranted when combined with the fact that, realistically, our lives are very short. There's worms at the bottom of the ocean that live for over two hundred and fifty years. There's trees that have been alive for thousands. Humanity hasn't even been around longer than an eye blink in the history of the world. Really, we're no great shakes.
We're not sure if this is the only planet where life exists, but instead of trying to save the one home we're certain we have and make it a better place for us and future generations to live, we insist on destroying it, and the life that exists on it, for our short term needs. Most humans are stupid and greedy creatures. Give the ones that aren't your utmost love and respect.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Story a Day #11 - Sunday Religious Story

"The scream of the ambulance is sounding in my ears,
Tell me, sister morphine, how long have I been lying here?
What am I doing in this place?
Why does the doctor have no face?"
Marianne Faithfull - Sister Morphine

Jesus is standing by my bedside. He has a rubber band around his arm and the blood from his eyes drips down his cheeks. I keep asking him if he'll pray for me but all he does is scream and he won't let me sleep.
My head is full of incests with legs covered in broken glass. They crawl around and eat my brain, digging tunnels and dragging up memories I'd like to forget. People I've hurt, girls I fucked and left. Every horrible thing I've ever seen or done plays out on the tiled ceiling. Jesus won't turn and look. I wish I could get up and push him over, I'm sick of looking at him. I can't move. Sometimes it panics me, the fact that I can't move my arms or legs, but you can only panic so much before you just go numb.
On TV is some game show where happy people spin a wheel for money and prizes. I can't hear what they're saying over the screaming and the constant noise from the ceiling but it looks like they're happy. I hope they're happy. I didn't ask for this. They don't realize that it could happen to them too. They're living on borrowed time.
There are house flies on the window. There's thousands of them, all buzzing in unison, trying to get back out. They don't realize there's a pane of glass separating them from the outside world. One of them lands on my foot and crawls around, spitting up stomach acid, looking for food. I can't feel it. Suddenly Jesus is gone, in his place is an angel with a flaming sword. I don't know if this is good or bad. Hopefully it means that I'll be dead soon and I can end this. On the ceiling I am five years old, standing on a freeway overpass, throwing rocks at the cars below....
Sleep. Am I asleep? Sometimes I drift out into other planes of existence. Most of the time I'm standing on a beach by a blood red sea, the sky pulsating in shades of black and rotted green. Other times I wander through dusty old houses, going from room to room, floating over the rotted boards. I think this is sleep, or maybe I actually go to these places. One time I opened a door and there was a room full of cats, all nailed to the walls, but still alive. When I came back the doctor was standing over me and I could hear his thoughts as they poured through a hole in my head. He was wondering if he still had time to make his golf game. I want to kill him and take his soul with me to the beach. I want to show him the bodies floating in the water. Maybe he'd understand then. But I can't move.
When I was fifteen my dog got hit by a car right outside our house. My dad wasn't home and I had to put it down myself. I keep seeing this playing out over and over on the ceiling. Sometimes I can feel the dog's pain as it lies there dying in the roadway. Then I can feel the bullet entering it's brain, the sweet release of pain as my life ebbs away. Other times I can feel the gun in my hands again and the pain as it kicks into my shoulder. It's always pain. What have I done to deserve this?
The angel is looking at the drip in my arm. Sometimes I think he's going to pull it out but he just stands looking at it. He came with me to the beach last time I went. He showed me a trail that led up through a wood full of black trees. He pointed the way into a clearing that contained a shack made of human flesh, the wall pulsating like it was alive and breathing. When I walked inside it enveloped me and for brief while my pain was gone. Then I came back to the hospital and the angel was there, staring at my drip.
I can't find the clearing or the house again. I've looked all over and all there is is the blood red sea and the black woods full of rotting trees. I can still feel the pain, but at least I can move, I can run even though the rocks in the sand cut my feet. I've been trying to stay here as much as possible, but I always come back to the hospital and the doctor with his putrid thoughts, the TV, the ceiling, and the dirty buzzing flies. My angel is gone. He hasn't taken me with him....
I'm glad the ceiling has stopped broadcasting. I think the insects have run out of things to eat. I can't remember anything anymore. Who am I? Was I married? I seem to remember a girl with red hair and green eyes but I can't seem to grasp what she meant to me. I can't find her on the beach or in any of the rooms either. I don't like searching in the rooms anymore, all I find is blood and pain. I like the beach because it's dark. I've been trying to grasp at the darkness and pull it down, but it's so far away....
They took my legs away today. I was taken from my room and there people standing over me. I went to the beach for a long time and when I woke up my legs were gone. The pain is so much worse, It radiates from my head out to the rest of what used to be my body. The doctor pities me, his thoughts say so. I told him to fuck off. I think looked surprised. Or did I just imagine it? Can I still speak? I tried screaming today but I found that I couldn't open my mouth. There are cartoons on the TV and they talk to me. The little brown skinned girl wanted to know if I'd seen the map. I told her no and asked if she's seen the beach, if they bodies meant anything to her. She didn't answer and skipped away through a green forest with her friend the fox. I laughed. This startled me. I hadn't laughed for a long time. It didn't make the pain any less though.
The angel is back again, only know he's covered with blood and the flame on his sword has gone out. I wanted to know what he'd been doing but he didn't answer. Angels are very useless creatures.
I think my arms are gone, even though I can't see them. The angel is leaking blood from it's eyes. The TV is screaming and the flies are buzzing in a cloud around my head. I'm trying to get to the beach, if I could only get there and stay there, everything would be fine....

"I couldn't stand to see him laying there with no arms or legs, just staring at the ceiling. The doctor's said he was still alive so they had to try and keep him alive or it'd be murder. When no one was looking I pulled the plug on his respirator, and waited till the machine flat-lined. Then I plugged it back in and calmly walked out of the hospital. On the way home I pulled over and cried till my stomach hurt and I opened the door and threw up. None of the passing cars stopped...."

The beach and the sky are mine forever. If only I could find that damn hut again...

My Wall of Art

I've put up a few of the Katie Rice pieces I've got up on this blog, but in case you're interested, here's some of the other arts that I own.

Someday when I have an actual apartment instead of a small dorm room I'll have room to put these all over, but for now they're pretty much in one spot.

Big pants mouse sketches by Gabe Swarr that I got when I ordered his comic books.

Frog Raccoon Strawberry by Kyle A Corrozza, from his Etsy shop.

And finally, a commissioned Girlbot drawing! I like the frame I picked out, but I cut her signature off the bottom! Sorry Diana! I'll be sure to tell anyone that comes over that you drew it and to go to your website!

Original Girlbot artwork. I totally got the wrong frame size, but I think it looks alright. Check out my reflection in the glass!

Closer picture. Still working on picking out a good place to hang this. I love having art to look at and supporting artists that I really like, but I'm running out of room!

I also have some Katie Rice prints that I haven't done anything with yet but I'm actually saving them to give to the right girl, if she ever happens along. If she appreciates them, then I know she's a keeper.
I hope you found this glimpse into my world at least a tiny bit interesting.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Creepiest Movies

Sigh, Story a Day got up to ten whole stories before I got derailed. Oh well, I'll try to get back on track tomorrow (Sunday). For now, here's a movie article.

We horror fans are a very determined bunch. I'd liken us hardcore fans as treasure hunters looking for diamonds in piles of horse shit. We sit through so much junk just to find that one movie that actually works, that actually gets under our skins like botfly larva. Sometimes though, a bad movie will have a moment or two that makes the whole thing worth while, a small diamond in mound of shit. But at some point we all have to face up to the facts: We may love the genre but most horror movies are total shit. Sometimes this makes the movie enjoyable for a different reason than the people making it intended but a lot of the time they can be torture to sit through. I suppose we're just masochistic, but when we do find that rare diamond it makes the whole hunt worth while. Here's the few movies that I've found that have really creeped me out, the ones that I think really deserve to be called horror movies.
(Your mileage may vary. Please consult your doctor before ingesting any Andy Milligan or Hal Warren as they may be hazardous to your health.)

1. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
It might have just been a fluke since most of the movies he made after were total junk but Tobe Hooper's debut is masterpiece of lingering dread and nasty violence (most of which is implied but you wouldn't know it watching it the first time.) Along with Halloween, it set the standard for the millions of slasher films that followed, most of which can't hold a candle to it. Speaking of not being able to hold a candle to TCM, stay far away from Hooper's next movie, Death Trap. It's not only a huge disappointment, it's teeth grindingly awful.

2. Eraserhead

The best representation of a nightmare ever put on film. It's not for everyone but it's a must for people into strange cult films. I really can't say anything else because it's the kind of movie that's hard to describe anyways and spoilers would only ruin the experience of watching it for the first time.

3. Picnic at Hanging Rock
Set at an English Victorian era girl's school in Australia the plot is very simple: A class goes on a picnic at Hanging and three of them and their teacher vanish. The rest of the movie is of course, trying to figure out what happened but also how the other girls deal with the disappearances. The thing that makes the whole movie so great though, is the way that it's filmed. Hanging Rock is almost feels like a living creature and there's an aura of dread that hangs over the whole thing, like evil forces are working just beneath the surface, but it's all implied. Nothing is shown outright and the ending is...well, I don't want to ruin it, but definitely give this one a rent.

4. The Devil's Rejects
I saw this in the theater with a couple of friends and when it was over we all sat stunned. We thought we were going to get a weird/funny flick like Rob's first film but what we got was disturbing and fucked up beyond anything we'd seen before. I still can't watch the hotel room scene without feeling a little sick.

5. Pan's Labyrinth
The ads for this made it seem like it's a whimsical fantasy film you can sit Grandma down in front of but in reality it's a dark and disturbing horror film. Both the real world it portrays and the fantasy world it's hero stumbles into are horrifying in equal measure and there's enough squicky body horror to make David Cronenburg cringe.

6. Freaks
It only really becomes a horror film at the end but those last moments of the "freaks" crawling through the mud and rain hell bent on revenge is burned in my brain and will probably never leave. Pretty good for movie made in the 1930s. It was way ahead of it's time though, people were horrified and the film was banned and not seen again till the 1960s.

Alright, this post didn't turn out as interesting as I thought it was going to. I've got an idea for tomorrow's story, I'll shut up and get working on it...

Angel with a Holy Sword Blues

Everyone and their mother writes love songs, but not too many people write lust songs. Here's my attempt. This really isn't about anyone specific, just all the goody good girls I've ever known. I've often wondered if they were hiding something...

Oh I've got those
Sleepy headed blues
When I close my eyes I see your face
And it hurts me deep inside
I want you open wide
But you're closed off by holy grace
I want you tied to the alter
Or spread out on the pew
You don't need no holy book
To tell you what to do
I want you bad
Bad bad bad
I want you bad

Now I know deep inside
That there's something you try and hide
And your goodness is only just for show
So take me as I am
And let me be a man
And tell me all the dirty things
That I know that you know
I want you bad
Bad bad bad
I want you bad

If I have to walk on water
To have a chance with you
Honey I'll do anything
That you want me to
I'll turn your water into wine
I'll multiply your bread
I'll die for you and rise again
If you'll just let me in your bed
I want you bad
Bad bad bad
I want you bad

I've got those sleepy headed blues
And this heat won't let me sleep
You're all I've been thinking of
For weeks and weeks and weeks
I know that lust is a sin
But my soul cries for release
How bout you be my sacrifice
And I sink my knife in deep?
I want you bad
Bad bad bad bad bad
Oh baby I want you bad

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Some Stuff

I'm really dry for any good ideas as of late so instead of a story here's some random stuff I've been thinking about today.

I really don't understand the appeal of football. I've tried to get into it quite a few times but it just bores the heck out of me. The same thing goes for pretty much any televised sports. Everyone talks about football and baseball at work and I totally can't relate. Does anyone else have this problem or is it just me?

Sometimes I'll wake up randomly in the middle of the night. Not a big deal, but thats when my brain likes to try and scare the Hell out of me. Usually I'll see a large spider or nasty looking bug on the wall or on my bedside table but a few nights ago I woke up and saw this thin white form floating by my bed. It freaked the fuck out of me. I have no idea why my brain insists on doing this. Maybe if I tried watching televised football, it'd stop.

The story of Noah's ark, which I've been hearing/reading about since I was a little kid, makes no sense at all. This thought just randomly came to me today. There's no way he'd be able to get two of every single animal on earth into a ship he made himself along with enough food to feed them all. Just the idea of it is ridiculous. Noah would have to be like Santa Claus and go around the entire world collecting every single mammal, bird, lizard, and insect. I don't think it mentions a flying sleigh in the bible though. Plus how are these animals going to repopulate the earth? By massively inbreeding apparently of course! Hey, if you follow that logic, then the idea that the entire human population started from two people doesn't make much sense either does it? There, I said it: The Bible makes no freakin' sense if you take it literally.
Oh and anyone that tries to tell me that God is kind and loving hasn't read the Old Testament at all. God is a jerk that likes to fuck around with humanity just because he can. He's just as bad, if not worse than the Greek gods.
I have no idea why Christianity has been bugging me so bad latley, thats just the direction a large portion of my thoughts have been going.

Alright, none of these thoughts are interesting or original or deep in any way so I'll shut the fuck up and go to bed. Sorry for not having a story up. The goal of this thing was to try and write something at least once a day, but I've tried to make it a story of some sort each time. It's hard to stay motivated sometimes unless I force myself.
Although I might just post up one of these things once a week since I like hearing from you guys. My readership is small but you're a smart bunch of people and I don't have enough smart people to talk to.

Alright, give me a scorecard so far. Whats been the best and worst story I've put up for this project? Any ideas on how I could improve? I know some of these have been weak and I apologize. It's hard coming up with something interesting every day.

I'll end with a Bill Hicks quote, because I love Bill Hicks: “The worst kind of non-smokers are the ones that come up to you and cough. That's pretty fucking cruel isn't it? Do you go up to cripples and dance too?”

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Story a Day #10

The Tale of Josephine

Josephine was sad. She didn't feel like crying but she was sad all the same. It was a strange empty feeling that was new to her and thus it was much stronger by way of it's being new. All the other kids at school seemed so happy. No one liked her because they said she never smiled and sat by herself during playtime. Josephine thought it was stupid to smile when you didn't feel like it, and she never felt like smiling much.
Downstairs mom and dad were washing the dishes after supper. That was a bad time to be downstairs and so Josephine was upstairs in her room having a tea party with her dolls, even though there were monsters that lived in the dark spaces under her dresser and bed. They only really came out at night though and were only really dangerous if you let a part of your body hang over the sides of the bed. Her mom said they didn't exist when Josephine tried to explain it one day but she knew they did. She could hear them shuffling around on the floor and whispering to themselves in the dark, probably trying to think up ways to get at her, and watching to see if her arm would fall over the side so they could snatch it.
Josephine sighed. It was Saturday afternoon and the sun was just starting to sink in the sky. The birds were still chirping away in the tree outsider her window. Josephine liked birds. She had found one dead underneath the tree once, a baby one that had probably tried to fly too early. It had made her sad and she had buried it out past the backyard, just inside the woods by the creek. She told her doll Penny about it as she poured tea.
"Poor bird, it didn't even have all of it's feathers yet. Don't you think that's sad Penny?"
Penny's black button eyes stared back at her.
"Me too. Do you think it went to heaven? Oh Froggy, don't say that! There too is a heaven for animals! Just for that you don't get any cookies!"
She pulled a plate away from the small stuffed frog and frowned at it.
"I'd like to apologize to everyone for my friend Frogy, he can be a bit rude sometimes..."
Downstairs there was a large crash like several plates being dropped.
The emptiness in Josephine's insides got larger and she felt tears welling up in her eyes.
There was another smaller crash.
Then her mother screamed and started to sob. Josephine turned away from her friends and quietly cried into her hands. After a bit she was able to grab onto the emptiness and push it way down into her stomach. It made her feel sick but she hated crying in front of her friends.
Shakily she poured more imaginary tea for Penny and Froggy and Mr. Brown Bear.
"Are you guys having fun at my party?" She asked and wiped the the tears from her face.
"I'm glad. What's that Mr. Bear? Oh, the cakes not done yet. You'll have to wait, would you like some more tea while you wait?"
Downstairs a TV turned on and the opening theme song for America's Funniest Home Videos could be heard.

At school on Monday Josephine sat by herself during playtime again and made a three piece family out of build-a-blocks. She had set them up around a table made of blocks and was trying to think of a name for them when Joey came over and kicked the whole thing to pieces. Josephine got mad and pushed him and he fell and hit his head and started to cry. Then she had to sit in time out. Mrs. Dempsey said that it was wrong to push people and Josephine should feel bad about what she had done. She didn't feel bad at all though. Later during coloring time, Francine told her that nobody liked her because her family was poor and her clothes were old. Josephine had never thought of that before. I guess they don't care if I smile or not, she thought as she painted a happy letter 'A' a nice shade of dark black, obliterating his face.

That night she lay in bed and talked quietly to Penny, telling her what had happened that day. Penny promised never to tell anyone, Penny was a good friend. She told her about what had happened with Joey and Penny agreed that he had deserved what he had gotten. Froggy thought that pushing him was mean but Josephine told him to be quiet or she'd feed him to the floor monsters. Mr. Brown Bear sang a funny song and Josephine went to sleep well before the floor creatures began their nightly prowl.

On Saturday morning Josephine got up like usual to watch cartoons. Walking quietly past her parents bedroom, she paused for a bit and tried to hear them breathing and then tiptoed down the stairs.
There wasn't much cereal left in the cupboards but she found a quarter full bag of Captain Loops hiding behind some large bowls. Not much milk in the fridge either, just enough so that she didn't have to eat dry cereal.
In front of the Josephine had set up Penny and Mr. Brown Bear on either side of her, because they liked cartoons too. Froggy was upstairs still asleep because he didn't like cartoons at all.
On the TV Bugs Bunny was tricking Yosemite Sam into blowing himself up with a rigged piano. Josephine laughed as she ate her cereal.
Outside past the old tree, a truck slowly pulled up into the driveway, swerving wildly into onto the yard and funny coming to rest after slamming into a telephone pole. Josephine grabbed her friends and ran to the window. Her dad climbed out of the truck, knelt over, and threw up on the lawn. Then he staggered up to the house. Josephine sat back down and watched cartoons, pretending that she didn't see anything.
The door slammed open hard enough to make her jump but Josephine kept her eyes glued to the TV. She could hear him run the some water in the sink and drink noisily.
"Josephine?" Came his voice from behind her. "Josephine, your daddies talking to you."
Josephine didn't move. She contemplated running upstairs quickly, even though there was no lock on her bedroom door but before she could act she was being lifted up in the air. Her father held her face close to his.
"Didn't you hear me girl?" She could smell alcohol on his breath and it made her feel sick. "When I tell you to come, you come!" Then he slapped her hard across the face.
Josephine could feel that empty feeling rising from her stomach, bringing tears with it but she shoved it back down and stared into her father's face impassively.
"Well what have you got to say for yourself girl?" Josephine said nothing, opening her mouth would risk letting the sadness come up.
"I said answer me!" He slapped her again.
She said nothing and her father threw her roughly onto the couch and then walked into the kitchen to look for food. It should have been a soft landing but she hit her head on a wooden part buried deep within the couches innards. Pain flowed from her head all through her body and broke the barrier that was keeping it in her stomach. Before he could see her cry she grabbed her friends and ran quickly to the side door and opened it.
"Hey!" Her father yelled. "Where do you think you're going!"
Josephine said the first thing that came to her mind.
"I hope you die." Her father stood still in shock. It was so cold sounding, it broke through his drunken haze.
"What did you say?"
"I hope you DIE!" Then Josephine burst into tears and ran out the door.

She spent all day in the woods talking to Penny and Mr. Brown Bear. She would have ran to her cousin's house but Mr. Brown Bear convinced her that she should head back home. Mr. Brown Bear was always the smart one.
When she got back, the house was empty and dark and quiet. Her bowl of cereal was still sitting by the TV, now all bloated and soggy and gross.
"What are we going to do now guys?" She asked her friends.
For once they were silent. She held them close to her body as she sat on a dining room chair. It was past dark and the floor monsters would be out already, so there was no going upstairs. Josephine sat and stared out the living room window and waited for headlights to pull up the drive. And tried not to cry.