Full Moon

Note: I wrote this about 7 years ago and just stumbled across it in an old notebook the other day.


(Night time, two men are walking through the grass in the dark)


Kevin: Man, I TOLD you to get gas at that last exit.

Brad: I'm SORRY man! How many times do I have to say it? I was wrong, okay? Is that what you want to hear? You were right and I was wrong.

Kevin: Okay okay fine. Let's just forget about it, okay?

Brad: THANK you.

Kevin: Besides, that sign back there said only one mile to the next exit. That's not too bad.

Brad: Yeah, and maybe we can hitch a ride back to our car once we've got the gas.

Kevin: Besides, this walk is helping me work out some of the soreness in my legs.

Brad: Me too, that soccer game was out of control! I couldn't believe that goal you made with the guy coming right at you!

Kevin: Yeah, well you didn't play too bad yourself. Hey thanks for letting me borrow your shirt, man. I totally ate crap there at the end. I'll probably never get those stains out.

Brad: Don't mention it, man. It's a lucky thing I had an extra one in the back seat.

Kevin: Hey, did you see Gertrude on the sidelines?

Brad: DID I? Wow!

Kevin: SMOKIN' hot.

Brad: For sure. It's a real shame her name is Gertrude and I'm THAT shallow and petty.....(sighs) ahh, it's such a nice night.

Kevin: Yeah, it really is.

Brad: Paper said there's a full moon tonight.

(Kevin stops walking)


Kevin: What did you say?

Brad: Tonight's a full moon, too bad the clouds are blocking it.

Kevin: (to himself) Oh no....oh my gosh...

Brad: What's wrong? Kevin, what is it?

Kevin: Brad, you have to get out of here right now.

Brad: What?

Kevin: Just run away as fast as you can.

Brad: What are you talking about? I'm not going anywhere. Oh look! The moon's coming out.

Kevin: Please Brad, just go!

Brad: Why?

Kevin: When the moon comes out, I'm gonna change into a....a........

Brad: Are you about to sneeze?

(a stretching sound, Kevin begins to change)


Kevin: (distorted voice) Oh no, Brad run!

Brad: My gosh! You're growing! Kevin, are you doing steroids?

Kevin: BRAD....(the sound of fabric tearing)


Brad: Hey! You're ripping my shirt! I like that shirt!

Kevin: I'll buy you a new one, GET OUT OF HERE!!!

Brad: You can't buy me a new one! It was complementary when I opened a super-saver account at the bank.

Kevin: (voice is increasingly more inhuman) WHAT?! Then it doesn't matter!

Brad: Sure it does. I still like it. Just because it's free....

Kevin: (roaring) BRAD!!!

Brad: It's still fixable, take it off quick!

Kevin: I can't, it's too tight now! Go!

Brad: You're not even trying.

Kevin: You idiot! I'm turning into a werewolf!

(another tearing sound)


Brad: NO! You're ripping it more!

Kevin: Did you hear what I just said??

Brad: You've got some nerve!

(Kevin roars)


Brad: Hey, I'm still talking! I lend you my shirt and you destroy it? What a douche!

Kevin: This is your last chance!

Brad: Seriously, it's just rude is what it is. And also, I think it's pretty inconsiderate that you're a werewolf and you don't have, like, a star chart memorized or something? I mean, you had NO idea that tonight was a full moon night? That's pretty irresponsible dude. You need to stay on top of this.

(Roaring, thrashing and ripping)


Brad: Hey! Not my other shirt! I'm still wearing that one!

(more slashing)


Brad: AUGH! My FLESH too?! You are the worst friend ever!!!

The End

Fun with Captions

As the beam pulled him toward the ship, Murphy thought to himself, "Well, there go all those chiropractor sessions."

Fun With Captions

In retrospect, survivors admitted that Jeff had indeed lit the biggest fart any of them had ever seen.

Assorted Musings

The following are a handful of random topics that I probably should not have devoted as much thought to as I have:

Aliens 4:

    In the 4th installment of the 'Alien' franchise, Sigourney Weaver's character Ripley has died 200 years ago, but a biotech company has brought her back to life by cloning her DNA. She then proceeds to team up with a ragtag band of misfits (what a shock that it isn't a well-quaffed group of croquet-playing Princeton grads) to kick some alien butt. About halfway into the movie, the group stumble upon an abandoned laboratory. Ripley, who is now armed with a colossal machine gun/flame thrower combo, soon realizes this is a room filled with failed earlier attempts at cloning her. As she breaks down in tears of sorrow and horror, we see jars with grotesque disfigured versions of her lining the walls.

    As she rounds a corner she encounters what seems to be the most devastating discovery of all: A hideous and pitiful malformed jumble of limps and joints laying on a lab table, with the face of another Ripley clone sticking out of it all. In a pained voice the clone looks at her and says "...please...kill...me..."

    Tears streaming down her face, Ripley slowly nods and says "okay." She then steps back, raises the gun, and as the music swells dramatically, proceeds to open fire......with the FLAMETHROWER!

    The second I saw this part, all I could think was that if I were the clone I would be screaming, "You douchebag!! I meant the GUN! Shoot me with the gun! What kind of asswipe mercy kills someone with a flamethrower?! Oh, this hurts so bad! I hate you so much right now!!"

Pretty Baby:

    From time to time I will meet new parents and their babies and I will tell them that their child is very cute, to which they will usually reply, "Thank you." Now, you usually thank someone when they compliment something you did, like, "Hey Burt, great job on that presentation at work." "Thanks man," or "You guys rocked, that guitar solo was sick!" "Thanks a lot." But why are you thanking me for this? The kid is cute. It just happened that way. You didn't really do anything special to make it happen, unless you're about to follow up by saying "Yeah, the wife and I bought this book called 'Seven sex positions to ensure and attractive baby.' It's pretty strict but obviously it paid off. It includes a comprehensive diet plan as well as some warm up stretches. One time I nearly tore my ACL doing this one move where I was supposed to wear rollerskates, but in the end it was totally worth it. I mean look at that kid! So cute. You see her pretty blue eyes? That's thanks to a little move called 'The Wheelbarrow.'"

The Lighting in Grey's Anatomy:

    I have only ever seen a handful of episodes of the ever-popular 'Grey's Anatomy', but there was something I noticed that distracted me so much that I couldn't really get into the plot. It seems that at Seattle Grace Hospital it's a common practice to perform complicated surgeries in a very dark room where the sole light source is shining directly into the surgeon's face. To me, this seems hazardous. If any of the Grey's Anatomy writers ever read this, I have an episode idea for you: Dr. McDreamy is performing a surgery and says "Nurse, scalpel please." The nurse holds it out to him, and he gropes around blindly for it in the dark room, ultimately impaling his hand on it. He cannot operate for 6 weeks, and he's so depressed about it we see a montage where he develops a drinking problem, starts wearing black eyeliner and listening to The Cure and asking people to refer to him as McDoomy from now on.

    I understand that this type of lighting can heighten the drama and that's why it's used, just please give some sort of reasoning for it. It's easy. At the beginning of the surgery scene, have the doctor say something like "I can't believe someone got a flashlight lodged in their brain in the 'on' position and I need to remove it while it shines at me AGAIN. This is getting monotonous."

Placentia, California:

    REALLY? You named your town Placentia? I bet the local board of tourism constantly pulls out their hair and says "How the EFF are we gonna get people to come here??"

Secret Service Agents:

    I cannot recall seeing a movie in which some bad guys went after the president or some congressperson and the Secret Service agents actually stopped it. They always seem to get their asses handed to them like immediately. Apparently they don't teach you how to defend against being pistol-whipped in Secret Service school. That seems to be their kryptonite. If there's any truth to the movies, their job seems to be to turn kidnapping the president from a ten minute job into a fifteen minute one. 

    Perhaps the American government struck a deal with Hollywood years ago, saying, "Whenever you portray us in films, make sure to make us look like a bunch of well-dressed boobs who like nothing more than to take unexpected naps on the floor of the oval office." Then, if someone tried to attempt something in real life, they would be unpleasantly surprised to learn of the agents' mad protecting skills.

Local Business Names:

    I've noticed when a local business is Asian-owned, a fairly substantial amount of time the owner's name is Wang. I have seen a restaurant called "Wang's Wok" and some sort of business called "Wang's Consulting". These names are somewhat unfortunate, but this last week while driving I could have SWORN I saw a sign for "Wang's Massages." This is just too much. It immediately makes me think one either goes there for a wang massage, which is inappropriate, or that some guy there is going to attempt to massage my back using HIS wang as a massage tool, which I am not on board with AT ALL. Wang, please sell your business to your brother. Unless his name is Dong.

Six Weeks Later

MARK 14:51-52

 A young man, wearing nothing but a linen garment, was following Jesus. When they seized him, he fled naked, leaving his garment behind.

Six Weeks Later:

Peter: Cornelius! How are you my friend!

Cornelius: Oh…hello Peter.

Peter: I have not seen you in…gosh, it must have been what? Six weeks? So much has happened since then my friend, wouldn’t you say?

Cornelius: What? What has happened?

Peter: …you don’t know? Where have you been?

Cornelius: I’ve been hiding in a hole since that night in the garden! I was so afraid!

Peter: Good gracious, man! I had all but forgotten! You were the one who went running off that night totally naked!

Cornelius: Shhh! Keep it down, will you? I’m not exactly proud of that.

Peter: But why NAKED, is what I want to know? I mean, we were all scared, most of us ran as well, but why did you ditch your cloak?

Cornelius: …

Peter: Come now, friend. You can tell me.

Cornelius: I…I thought it would help lower my wind resistance and increase my getaway speed.

Peter: …

Cornelius: Why are you looking at me like that?

Peter: I’m pretty sure when I walked on water for those three or four steps I was moving faster than you can run.

Cornelius: Now THAT is just hyperbole!

Peter: Hyperbole! Nice word! In Greek of course, because that’s the language we’re speaking right now.

Cornelius: Thanks. Look, I panicked, okay? I don’t KNOW what I was thinking and I’m already embarrassed about it, so you don’t have to make fun of me.

Peter: Of course, of course. I apologize.

Cornelius: You don’t think anyone else saw me do that, do you? I mean, I was way off to the edge of the group. Chances are no one else noticed but you, right?

Peter: Well…I would agree with you, except you were on the Western side and shoved your way through the group completely nude to get to the Eastern side. And then when you got there you changed your mind and shoved your way back through to head West. So actually I’m fairly certain everyone noticed.

Cornelius: My gosh, this is humiliating. Well how many people were there in total, like 15 or so? That isn’t so bad, right? I mean it was a hectic night, people have probably forgotten it in all the chaos.

Peter: I distinctly remember hearing Mark say “I am going to write a book about all of this. And I have a really good memory, so I won’t forget a single detail.”

Cornelius: You are really bumming me out Peter.

Peter: I am truly sorry, friend. But I do not want to lie to you.

Cornelius: *sigh* I appreciate your honesty. It’s just very discouraging to think that years from now I will be remembered as the guy that stripped down nude and ran away incredibly fast when Jesus was betrayed.

Peter: The only way people will remember you as fast is if they have all lost the ability to run at all.

Cornelius: Say, you haven’t seen that cloak of mine around by any chance have you? I never did find it.

Peter: No, I can’t say I have. I assume that’s why you’re still nude right now as we speak?

Cornelius: Yes. It was my only one.

Peter: Well, check with the other guys. One of them may have picked it up.

Cornelius: Thanks, brother.  

Choose Your Own Adventure

pg. 31:

You have just landed your hovercraft on the treacherous shores of the secret island of Dr. Blade. After engaging the cloaking device, you gather your equipment and make your way into the forest. You have only 30 minutes to disarm the dreaded “Death Bomb” before the nefarious Blade launches it toward the mainland.

As you hack your way through the dense underbrush, you consider the apparent redundancy in the name “Death Bomb”. Your musings cause you to become distracted, and you step upon a trip wire, launching a deadly array of ninja stars in your direction. To perform a shoulder roll and avoid the ninja stars, turn to page 36. To take the chance that perhaps Dr. Blade mistakenly loaded this trap with rubber ninja stars instead of metal ones, turn to page 34.

pg. 34:

            They were real ninja stars. You are dead.

pg. 36:

            You perform a shoulder roll in an Easterly direction. As you do, you think about how the word “Easterly” is somewhat confusing, and you aren’t really sure if it means “In an Eastern direction,” or “Somehow relating to Easter”. As you continue to wonder how someone could convey a celebration of Easter through a shoulder roll, you fail to pay attention to where you are going and roll off of a cliff. To reach out and grab onto a root sticking out of the cliff face, turn to page 42. To take the chance that perhaps the jagged rocks below are actually rubber rocks, turn to page 40.

pg. 42:

            At the last second you are able to grab hold of a strong tree root and narrowly avoid falling to your death. You decide the jungle is taking too much time to traverse, and instead you opt to dive into the lagoon on the north side of the island, then swim up the secret underground river to Blade’s lair. You don your gear and submerge. As you carefully breaststroke through the murky water in the pitch black tunnel, you brush against a manatee, which becomes confused, attempting to mate with you, and is sort of successful. After 10 nightmarish minutes, you finally escape. To continue on your journey turn to page 57. To go take a shower and scrub yourself repeatedly while rocking back and forth and muttering “can’t get clean” over and over, turn to page 54.

pg. 57:

            You make a mental note to book a session with a therapist and continue on. Upon reaching Blade’s hideout, you deftly evade his guards with an impressive series of roundhouse kicks that were actually pirouettes from your days taking ballet but no one needs to know that detail. Finally you reach the Death Bomb and pry off the side panel, revealing a digital timer and an array of wires. According to the timer, you only have 30 seconds left to disarm it! To snip the red wire and disarm the bomb, turn to page 64. To call your grandmother because you just now remembered it’s her birthday for only 20 more seconds, turn to page 61.

pg. 61:

            You reach your grandmother with 8 seconds to spare. She informs you her birthday is actually NEXT Tuesday. The bomb explodes, disintegrating the Earth.

pg. 64:

With seconds left you snip the red wire. The Death Bomb is rendered harmless, but an alarm rings out through the compound. Suddenly guards burst in from all directions. You scan for possible exits, finding none. Just before they swarm in on you, you hear a voice shout, “Quick, this way!” and you see an open door you hadn’t noticed earlier. To sprint through the door and evade capture, turn to page 93. To take the chance that none of this is real and that you’re actually tripping balls on some acid in a motel room somewhere, turn to page 76.

pg. 93:

            As you dive through the open door, it slams shut and locks behind you. Your eyes quickly adjust to the lower light and you suddenly realize you aren’t alone in here. The manatee is back! It’s laying on a spinning circular bed surrounded by scented candles and beckoning to you suggestively.

            ...hours later as you navigate the ocean waters at the helm of your hovercraft, you think back upon the unexpected turns that your mission took. To drive your hovercraft straight into a large rock and just end it all, turn to page 104. To dedicate the rest of your life to hunting down and killing every manatee you can find, turn to page 110. To try and shake it off and move on with your life, turn to page 113.

pg. 113:

            Two weeks later you are standing in a televised ceremony to receive the congressional medal of honor for your bravery. After you pose for a photo shaking the President’s hand you are handed a bouquet of flowers. You read the note, which says simply, “With love, The Manatee.” You vomit uncontrollably on live television and have to be helped off the stage.

            When you get home later that day you turn on the TV and watch as the news channels replay the humiliating event over and over. Disgusted, you switch of the TV and grab your laptop. Opening up Facebook, you find one pending friend request. It’s the Manatee.

            

Witness Protection

Frank: Jim, can I speak with you for a second?

Jim: Sure, what’s up?

Frank: Well...*sighs* there’s no easy way to say this, but...Jim we’re going to have to let you go.

Jim: You’re firing me? Why??

Frank: Look Jim, I like you as a person, but...your job here is to provide new names for people and families that are forced to enter Witness Protection, and frankly you do terrible work.

Jim: I...I’m stunned. I thought I was doing a pretty good job.

Frank: Seriously? You seriously thought that? 15 of the 17 people you have assigned names to have been killed already.

Jim: Well, you know, I figured every new guy has a sort of grace period to get the hang of it.

Frank: Let’s look at some of the names you’ve assigned. Okay, here we have Eliot Johnson and you changed his name to Schmeliot Schmohnson. Really?

Jim: ...perhaps not my best work.

Frank: Here he have Joseph Hunter, and you gave him the name “Not Joseph Hunter.” In fact, it looks like you just drew a mustache on his driver’s license photo and wrote “not” in front of his name. Seriously, did you think that was acceptable?

Jim: I was hoping maybe I could get a mulligan on that one. It was a rough day, I hadn’t had my coffee...

Frank: Then of course there’s Kyle Thompson. You decided to give him the name of the person who was trying to kill him!

Jim: That one I can explain! I thought that if the killer found him and then realized they had the same name he'd have this sort of "Who am I? What does it all mean? Is this some kind of metaphor?" type of experience, and while he's standing there reaching enlightenment we could catch him! Or MAYBE he'd get confused and kill himself by mistake!

Frank: I wish I could double fire you right now.

Jim: You know what’s weird? They told me that at my last job too!

Frank: I just have to ask about one more. What happened with this guy, Hal Goodwin? You didn’t even change his name. He walked out of this department still named Hal Goodwin.

Jim: Well I thought to myself, “If the mafia knows Hal Goodwin has entered into Witness Protection, then what is the last name they would suspect him to have now? Hal Goodwin! It’s brilliant!!

Frank: He was shot driving out of our parking garage that same day when he showed his ID to the booth operator.

Jim: …I still stand behind that idea.

Frank: You’re fired. You have until 4 to clear out your office.

Jim: (smirks knowingly) Are you really sure you want to do that?

Frank: Oh I’m positive. Why wouldn’t I be?

Jim: Because while we’ve been talking I actually changed my name to your name. It would be like you’re firing yourself!

Frank: You can’t be serious. You pulled that stupid move again?

Frank 2: It’s all falling apart, Frank! Give it up! You don’t know who you are anymore! You’re asking yourself what it all means!

Frank: Okay now you have five minutes and then I’m going to call security.

Frank 2: And ask them to remove WHO? Frank? They’ll take us both away! Muahahahahaha! I win! You can’t fire me!

Frank: I don’t have time for this.

(A burly well-dressed Italian man enters)

Man: Excuse me, is one of you Frank Wilson?

Frank 2: (with a devious grin on his face) Why yes, in fact that I’M Frank Wilson. (stifles a chuckle)

(The man begins punching Frank 2 in the face over and over)

Man: You thought you could hide from Tommy Knuckles?? You thought Witness Protection would keep you safe?! Think AGAIN!!!

(As Frank 2 continues to be pummelled, Frank quietly backs out of the room)

END SCENE

The House of Parliament

To my esteemed colleagues in the British House of Parliament:

I write to you today with a heavy heart. It is with great sorrow that I announce that I am stepping down as Lord Speaker in the House of Parliament. 

            Why the reason for my sudden departure? Sadly I have been asked to resign by a group within our house, who are concerned that I have not been taking the position seriously enough. They said one indicator was that the fact that I only learned my official title last week, and had heretofore been referring to myself as “Head-Gavel-Banger-Guy” during sessions. I concede that this may have conveyed a lack of respect for the institution and I apologize for that. I tried to reason with them that I had now learned the proper title, but they cited other complaints as well.

            As I now see in retrospect, I suppose I can understand why my idea to begin holding an annual “Bring your Child to Work Day” was met with such harsh criticism. I still contend that the idea itself had promise, it’s just a shame that I hadn’t consulted a calendar of events before scheduling it. The fact that all of our children were present on “Death Sentencing Day” is something I sincerely wish I could take back. I have already taken steps to provide a child psychologist for those who think they may need her services.

            My detractors would like you to believe that the rumors are true, that whenever I was asked for my opinion in a discussion that I hadn’t been paying attention to, I would stand up and shout “Poppycock!” and start banging my gavel incessantly as a distraction technique. This is simply not true, my friends. The press wants to paint me as a buffoon because of the time I got confused and thought my powdered wig had to be continually re-powdered. No one told me that wasn’t necessary and I apologize that my powder cloud triggered Lord Henrickson’s asthma attack during sessions, but I do not agree this makes me a buffoon. They also say when I was totally lost in a conversation, I had a habit of trying to sound like I knew what was going on by slapping my desk and saying “Classic Parliament!” and then laughing a little too loudly. Excuse me for trying to adopt a catch phrase.

            I hate to sound like I’ve got sour grapes, but I must say that there are times when I have felt my fellow members of Parliament have not been there to support me. For instance, when I proposed a bill that all active members be required to smoke Parliament cigarettes and that albums of 70’s funk band Parliament be played continually in the background during session, I received zero supportive votes. In order to successfully run this country we must work as a team, gentlemen, and you guys left me out there swinging in the breeze.

            In conclusion I want to inform you that I will not be giving back my ceremonial robes, partially because of principal and partially because I was wearing them while running on the treadmill one day (I really like how the fabric breathes) and they got caught in a rotor and torn off my body. Despite our differences I wish you all the best in your careers and will continue to support you as best I can. If you’d like to reach me just look for the green ‘97 Yugo with one different colored door, as that is my current address.

Sincerely,

Theodore Harrison

Dear Diary

9/13/09

Dear Diary,

Today marks a turning point in my life! I finally walked into Mr. Simmons’ office and told him exactly what I thought of him. I told him that I was tired of how he treated me, that I didn’t need this stupid job, and that I was going into business for myself. I also told him that I hoped a blue whale’s penis fell on him and crushed him to death. At that point I began trying to offer example scenarios where that might possibly happen. He was so shocked and intimidated that he just sat there the whole time with his mouth hanging open. Oh victory is indeed sweet!

I am SO excited to see what the future holds! I have been planning to open my own business for so long it almost feels like a dream that it is actually going to happen now! That's all for now, diary! I'll keep you updated. I gotta get working!

9/21/09

Dear Diary,

I feel kind of weird today. This afternoon I was told that my old boss Mr. Simmons was on vacation in the Bahamas and was helping a group of people trying to roll a beached blue whale back into the ocean. He was standing in a poorly chosen location and on one of the rolls the whale's penis flopped over and landed on top of him, killing him instantly. I can't help but feel like I am somewhat to blame for this in some cosmic way. But I'm not gonna let it get me down, I have too much to look forward to! I've been working like mad on my business and we're opening next week! I'll keep you posted on every detail!

10/2/09

Dear Diary,

            Well, we’re 6 days into this and I’m having my doubts about the business. We’ve already had over 4,000 dollars worth of damage and I’m being sued by 2 families. When I think about it, I’m not even really sure why I ever thought hot air balloon tours over an active volcano was such a good idea. The heat from the lava keeps melting the canvas of the balloons and the clients are sent crashing into the side of the mountain. The first time it happened we called 911 and I had one of my pilots ferry two medics up there in another balloon, not realizing at the time what had caused the accident. But their balloon melted too and they plummeted into the lava to their deaths. That was pretty awkward, because the whole thing had been caught on tape by a local news crew that came to do a fluff piece. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I was eating a hot dog and got mustard on my shirt! I mean, could this day get any worse?!

10/7/09

Dear Diary,

            I’m beginning to suspect my business partner Glen is out to ruin me. First, during the ribbon cutting ceremony when I pretended the huge scissors were too heavy and I chopped his tie off as a joke, he didn’t even laugh. He just glared at me, which made me look like a jerk in front of everyone. Then a few minutes later when I was pretending to play the harmonica with the scissors and sliced open my tongue he grabbed some nearby balloon canvas to try and help stop the bleeding! That material costs a lot of money! What is he trying to do, put me in the poor house?!

            It doesn’t stop there, he also turned down my idea to put up a statue of a whale’s penis out in front of the business in memory of the late Mr. Simmons. He asked me, “Why would you put up a statue of the thing that killed him? How is that honoring him?”

            “You don’t understand!” I shouted back, “You didn’t know him! You can really be insensitive sometimes, Glen!”

            To which he replied, “Why do you keep calling me Glen? You know my name is Robert! Where did you ever get ‘Glen’ from?"

            We argued back and forth for another 20 minutes, but Glen was adamant. He said this was intended to be a family-friendly business and the statue would turn away potential clients. Some business partner HE’S turning out to be, always looking for ways to make money, never thinking about how important this whale’s penis is to me. Wait, that came out wrong. Why didn’t I write this diary in pencil?

            I also suspect Glen may be reading my diary. From now on I will write my entries in code. The number 1 will be A, 2 will be B, 3 will be C, and so on. That’s all for now.

10/10/09

Dear Diary,

            I forgot the code. Ahh, screw it. I don’t even really care that much if Glen reads this or not. He has been an obstacle at every turn and it was a mistake to go into business with him. He wants to cut our losses and get out and honestly that’s fine with me. He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on, though. The balloon tours were just a launchpad; I have plans for multiple businesses. As soon as I can generate enough start-up money I’m starting a new business that will finally combine sailing with white-water rafting to try and corner both markets. We will give customers a 30 minute “Intro to Sailing” course and then send them down the rapids in an adventure they’ll remember forever! I was going to offer that Glen get on board with me for that too, but forget it. I’m through with him. I hope he falls down a laundry chute at the YMCA and suffocates under a mountain of sweaty jock straps.

       

10/14/09

Dear Diary,

            Another weird day. Glen died tragically this morning, and you’ll never guess how it happened.

Some Old Facebook Statuses

Andrew Michael is diametrically opposed to people who look for opportunities to show off their big vocabularies. It makes him feel vociferous

Andrew Michael realized his life was pretty sad when he got really excited about getting his turn signal fixed

Andrew Michael is going to name his first daughter Dawn. If he has a second daughter he'll name her Joy. If he has a third, he'll name her Febreeze

Andrew Michael wants you to punch him in the face if you ever see him attending the unveiling of the latest postage stamp, because something has gone horribly wrong in my life

Andrew Michael accidentally used the Victoria's Secret entrance to the mall today, accidentally dressed in only a trenchcoat. And he accidentally made the evening news

Andrew Michael stapled a bunch of fruit roll-ups together in an effort to make homemade edible underwear

Andrew Michael wonders if any kid in the Make A Wish foundation has ever tried wishing for a million more wishes

Andrew Michael is hoping one day he might sneeze so hard he actually knocks himself on his back. Believe in your dreams kids!

Andrew Michael successfully toasted a poptart with a blowtorch this morning. Unfortunately it tasted like propane

Andrew Michael is going to be rich as soon as he sells his invention of shotgun shells filled with angry hornets for police crowd control

Andrew Michael does not understand why the phrase "blunt force trauma to the scrotum" is such a conversation stopper at a baby shower. Don't be so uptight everyone!

Andrew Michael had a patient in the hospital who sneezed with his eyes open. He's been in a coma for six weeks

Andrew Michael is starting to think that VH1 airs more accumulated minutes of bleeping sounds than actual dialogue

Andrew Michael wonders if there's anyone in witness protection using my exact name

Andrew Michael wants his tombstone to read "here lies andrew michael: easy on the eyes, tough on crime"

Andrew Michael wishes there were more opportunities for him to use the phrase "you'll rue the day"

Andrew Michael feels like there used to be a bunch of movies where the villain tortured the hero using a voodoo doll. What happened to voodoo doll action?

Andrew Michael thinks it would be kinda funny to have a Chinese symbol tattoo that translates: "I have no idea what this says."

Andrew Michael is glad Regis and Kelly is live because then he knows that between 9 and 10 each morning Regis Philbin is definately not sneaking up on him

Andrew Michael thinks it would be interesting if all his ringtones could be the sound that particular person made when they were being tazered

Andrew Michael thinks it would be funny if someone went to a strip club and tried to put Coke rewards bottlecaps into the girls' waistbands instead of dollars

Regrets

I’d like to think that I have lived a fairly decent and respectable life. However, I do not deny that there are a number of things I have done in my life that I wish I had not, and I am regretful of it. The following is a short list of some of those incidents.

-I did a stint in the Secret Service and I was assigned to protect Senator Jim McAllister. During one of his speeches I became aware of a possible assassination attempt in progress. When I spotted the assailant in the crowd I shouted into my walkie-talkie, “The fox is in the chicken coop! The hobo is urinating in the garbage can! The Hamburgler has entered McDonald’s playplace!” In retrospect I think that I may have lost respect in the eyes of my coworkers as a result of those remarks.

-I was a part of a study in college that was testing to see if we could induce seizures through images playing on a screen. When we were finished with our prototype there was the question of where and how we could test it. I suggested we rent one of those video billboards on the side of the freeway. I wish I had not been so persuasive with this idea and I want to apologize to anyone who was injured in “The Great 127-car pileup of 2004”.

-For three straight years after 9/11 I became slightly obsessed with the phrase “...then the terrorists have won.” It got so bad that I was saying things like “If my lotto numbers don’t win tonight then the terrorists have won,” or, “If they put mayo on my sandwich after I SPECIFICALLY asked for no mayo, then the terrorists have won.” I wish I hadn’t done this so often, as it annoyed my loved ones a great deal.

-I regret having begun to mix cocaine in with my laundry detergent because I enjoyed the tingling feeling I got when I wore my freshly washed clothes. It proved to be quite expensive.

-In middle school I tried to fart in a time capsule that our class was putting together, in an effort to show future generations what flatulence from 1996 smelled like. I still think the idea had merit, but I regret my last second decision to take off my pants to do it, fearing that the fabric would mar the authenticity of the smell. I think this may have ruined my chances of dating Becky Martin.

-Certain business dealings caused me to venture into some seedy areas of town. In an effort to not come across as an easy target for thugs and low-lifes, I brainstormed ways I could dress so that I looked tough. I reasoned that an eyepatch looked pretty tough, but NO one was tougher than a guy who's eyepatch was an actual tarantula on an elastic band! It was about the time the creature laid it's eggs in my orbital socket that I realized this

had been a terrible idea. This is another choice I regret very much.

-I regret getting a tramp stamp tattoo that said "WHOOMP, there it is!" with an arrow pointing to my butt. Don't know what I was thinking there.

-I once mentally calculated an equation which would allow mankind to map and harness wormhole technology, but unfortunately I was a contestant on a Japanese gameshow at the time I thought of it, and just then I was attacked by a giant squid while the audience pointed and laughed at me. I regret both losing the gameshow and forgetting the wormhole equation.

-At a dinner party I once stated "The Unicorn is fifty times gayer than the Pegasus." Later that week I went to the library and did a little research and I found out that the Unicorn was actually only thirty-one times gayer than the Pegasus. I regret having misled the people at that dinner party.

            There are a number of others regrets I have, but just revisiting these incidents has filled me with shame and self-loathing. I will stop for now and maybe some other time, days from now, when I’m riding high, I will have the self confidence to continue this cathartic journey of sorrow. But for now I’m going to belittle my dog to make myself feel better. Thank you for listening.