At best we are just human. Sometimes we forget the tragedies one must bear in life. The important thong to remember is Sisqo’s thong song.

Barf in a shoe. Wear it to a Mets game. Call it your Barf Shoe. Call in sick to work. They will never know that you were at a sporting event. The smell of the Barf shoe will cover your tracks.

Okay, let’s get one thing clear. Smog. Okay, now that the smog is clear can someone do something about the goddamn fog? I’ve been wearing my foghat all week. There is only so much “slow riding” and “taking it easy” one can do before they blow a gasket. Which reminds me, I’m late for my basket weaving class. That’s gonna be my ticket outta this dump. With a hand woven basket on my head there’s no telling what I could do. For one thing, this stnking fog won’t be able to sink it’s talons any deeper into my skull. Then I’ll kick this fucking fog’s ass from here to Montana. Karate kick a slurpee and hi-five a grandma. Straight up and down, do the funky chicken an’ I’m out. Peace & Hallalujah!

Every time I think of stuff
I think about what it is
Is it a moose?
Or is a pig?
Or is it some kind of angry pig-moose?

That’s what it is not is.

I’m not blogging.
I’m blobbing.
Blobbing up and down,
the sweaty sidewalk
of Internet Street.

I love them.
Dear Sharpie company
I would love to endorse your product.
Sometime I get Sharpie on my face
When I am drawing
Oh
Dear Sharpie
I can’t throw you out
Where did you come from
Some kind of super marker planet where everything is cool and awesome and permanent.
Sometimes Sharpies go around in a circle
Chanting
They tell me to draw things.
Terrible things
And funny things
And the best things.
If Sharpies were a food
They would be the best food.
Black Sharpies turn grey over time
It takes years for a Sharpie to die
Literally years
If I had to have some part of my body replaced with an inanimate object
It would be a Sharpie
Hopefully it would be one of my fingers and not my penis.

Rain.
What is it and why is it here?
Is it God’s poop?
Who gives a shit.

Rain.

1 – Borrow some stuff.

2- Throw it out.

3- Make more to do lists.

What’s up with stuff?
Does it make you feel tough? Want to shove it in your muff?
Can you eat it? If it were a cookie? Hairy like a wookie?
Harry like Whodini? Where is it?
What’s up with stuff?

I’m on a writer’s strike.
The internet is TV.
I write on the computer and then I punch it.
Strike one for me. Pitching great TV.