For my brother, who doesn't read this.

DIg it part deux

Dig it!

BAM!

Walmart

Alyse just spent an hour laughing to tears at this blog

Just go, you won't be disappointed.

Eating my childhood

I was a fat little kid. Not obese, but fat.

I just didn't miss any meals.

Recently, I have been eating things that are bringing back memories. Two weeks ago when my mom visited, she brought up a bunch of snacks– fruit snacks, fruit rollups and licorice. Yeah, I've been pooping red.

But seriously, the goodies took me back.

Back to the days of Kirk Fogg and Olmec.

I'm off to get some mondo juice or maybe some

An apology

I am a really bad person. It has been so long since I have hit this thing with some new stuff. I'm sorry people who used to frequent my blog.

It's not as though I haven't been writing. I have been, a lot. Columns, advances, recaps, papers, reading responses, everything, except blogging.

But in the heat of paper-season, I will re-dedicate myself to you former visitors.

I promise.

Oh and in case you care enough, twitter.com/joecannonballs

Booyah, suckas.

Cannon Fodder

Here's this week's column.

I know I haven't had a good story in a while, but the four roommates are road tripping to Oregon this weekend, so I will come back with a ton of material.

So there.

The Informant!

The Informant! was a bizarre narrative, folding and unfolding itself, unravelling all the while with the lies of Matt Damon's character.

The concept of truth and the changes that the audience undergoes in their opinion and image of Damon is insane. The subvocalization/narration is hilarious. The anecdotes are so awkward.

It reminds me of the way Daniel Coffeen started out class in Rhetoric 10– "Everything I say is a lie."

This movie asks the audience to judge the truth when the facts are constantly changing and being exposed as lies.

It really is worth a see. Some very funny parts. And I plan on grabbing the book, which lacks the exclamation point (or so I've heard) because the way the film was structured, it says "read the book, because there's more of these great little anecdotes that we didn't have time for in the movie."

Not so sexy on Tuesday

Longshore Column

column love

In my unending search for self-deprecating material, I came across this forum on a cal website, trashing my 7 things I hate about gamedays at Cal column.

It was sooo terrible that they had to make a list of things that annoy them, just so they are not haters. Awesome.

Here's the link, note the number of replies and comments. I never thought I could have made such a positive contribution to the world of Cal sports and humanity in general.

lol.

Blog post

for the Daily Cal, what's up.

Note: Soccer players tell bad jokes.

And boom goes the dynamite.

I hadn't seen this until recently. Holy shit this guy is awkward.

Bam!

it's that time of the week again. Column

column

week 2 is here, I think this one might actually piss some people off.

Good writing

It is always nice to find someone your own age, who can write like you wish you could. It's better when he's your friend.

Read THIS it's excellent.

On the way back from Chipotle

Hypothetical:

You are walking alone. You see something beyond ridiculous (for me: something that I would make me turn to the person next to me and make a snide and quite possibly cruel comment). Do you still make the comment?

I did. Out loud.

Columns

If you don't like me, then 1) stop reading my blog and 2) do not go pick up a daily cal today or go to these links for my 2 columns, here and here.

Big day.

Here we go

First of my weekly columns, hell yeah!

YES

Fighting

Can't wait for Fighting to come out on DVD, I am shamed to say I missed in theatres.

I am so excited.

This is an example of sarcasm.

Vick

The Eagles have apparently been preparing for Vick in every aspect. Even the merch shop.

The Nug

Hi. My name is Joe from Wisconsin. And I'm going to be honest with you, I'm a little drunk right now.

-Joe from Wisconsin to security guard at the Golden Nugget

A letter

Dear Berkeley,

I'm not ready for you yet. You make me hate myself more than Kevin Krause's parents hate themselves for what they brought into this world. But here I come anyway.

Fuck.

This song owned Europe

Roll on or off you Bears!

Not only has Ted Miller featured one of my articles on his site, he also writes my favorite Pac-10 blog.

This is a great, and I use this in its true sense and not as a casual compliment, article.

Cash flow

Anytime a writer can combine sports and entertainment seemlessly, it always turns out well.

Here's his piece for SI. GOLD!

Palahniuk

Finished his book "Rant" the other day. It has to be one of his better books. I mean, the guy is a god, but this was a gem.

It had a very non-linear feel to it and the book makes commentary and interpretation on itself, which I have not seen outside of Vonnegut's "Breakfast of Champions." It ended up being rather mind blowing. And he broke out of his element with a more futuristic and sci-fi-esque dystopia. That on top of creating a narrative using a ton of different narrators was impressive.

Thus, I must amend the ranking of his books, which originally read like this.

1. Choke
2. Lullaby
3. Fight Club
4. Snuff

Now, goes as follows (oops, first run through I missed out on Survivor)

1. Choke
2. Rant
3. Lullaby
4. Fight Club
5. Snuff
6. Survivor (I liked it, until the end. Then it dies, but not in a good way).

And it should be noted here that the top 4 are super close, like ridiculously close.

London blogging

Travelling plus writing a monster column plus travel blogging equals not a lot of time for this. Sorry.

But I will get better when I get back, so bear with me.

Last two nights, Alyse and I saw Les Mis and Phantom of the Opera (my two favorite musicals). Both were absolutely excellent.

I think I have settled on Hugo's miserables being the better in terms of literary elements. He weaves so many complex plot lines into three hours it's insane. Then he brings them all into the revolution and spits them back out as miserable as before. Just genius.

Goodbyes

My program in Spain ended today. Most everyone got on their planes and left. Back to America. 5 weeks of the best weeks we have ever had and back to real life. It was sad to see them go.

These types of programs really bring people close. It's like hyper speed dating/ friendship. For 5 weeks they are with you all the time– breakfast, lunch, dinner, sleepovers.

There's no space. But at the end of the program you feel that you have known these people your whole life. They become great friends, best friends and or bitter enemies.

Last night, the eight of us (the team), who have spent the whole trip together (taking trips, drinking, everything), went to our favorite bar one last time.

It was weird to think that we would never be in this place together again. We might never fully reunite. Sure, we will see each other in pairs of more. But the chance of all 8 in a room together is unlikely. Sad, but true.

I always have a tough time thinking about stuff like that. This isn't like California, where I can always find a way in to my old dorm room or apartment. This is Villaviciosa de Odon, Spain, and I can confidently say that I won't be back. Except in 4 days to pick up my luggage.

Europe is so far away, I may never get back here, no matter what I say now. It's a pretty rough thought.

Alyse and I take off for Valencia in a few hours, so we are just hanging out. It's weird to watch this place that we lived in for a month turn into a ghost town. It's even worse to clean out a room.

I get sad cleaning out a hotel room. It's just somewhere you will never be again. The memories can't be duplicated. It's done. Over. You have to check out.

I think emptying a room out is one of my least favorite things to do. You build your life in the room. You make it your own. It is a representation of you. It's your life and then you clear it out and it's empty.

Your life is gone and once again it's an empty room, like you were never there. I always think about leaving a note to the person, who will live there after me, but I never do. The maid might pick it up and then the plan would be ruined. And what would my note say?

"Joe Cannon lived here." To which the reader would respond, "So? Who the fuck is Joe Cannon?" An obvious oversight of greatness, but it's forgivable.

or maybe- " GET OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN!" But that's not clever enough.

So I don't write them.

I just get really sad about getting old. I know you aren't comfortable with me having feelings, but I really hope that I'm living a full life.

I wish this program was two weeks longer. Then it would be perfect. Alyse and I are making it that long by heading off to London for a week after 4 days in Balenthia. But it would be nice to have had two weeks more with the group.

I miss everyone from home, seeing JT in Porto was a big pick me up from homesickness. Honestly, after the first night in Paris when the homesickness hit hard, I haven't felt it, until today. I miss the people that left 3 hours ago.

Having the greatest travel companion/girlfriend eases my hyperemotionality a lot. And knowing that I'm going to see everybody soon is exciting.

I hope that the whole team will reunite again. It just won't be the same. It can't be. The good news is that it doesn't have to be. We started off with some wild experiences and even better memories. Let's have some more.

In conclusion, I don't suck at goodbyes. I just would rather not say them. I always cry. Always.

When it comes check out time, you just have to go. Otherwise, I would never leave.

Thanks to the team for some great memories.

Here's a quote from last night that I think sums up our relationship rather well.

"There was a time tonight, when I was going to throw up, and give up, but I didn't. I said, 'If we are going out, then we are going all night long. So I didn't throw up."

A little Spanish ish

You will not like this song. But it is great.

Midget Cruise

I sent my first ever email to ESPN.com's Bill Simmons today. He wanted a reality show idea and Tim and myself have done a pretty damn good job developing probably the best show ever. So the email read-

You need two more reality tv shows to complete the summer of 2009. Make it one.

It begins with marketing. You need a ton of advertising all over America, saying that (insert network name here) is casting for an all-sexy-singles cruise for the newest and hottest reality show ever. It's completely free. Drinks, food, living, you can get all this just for being sexy. The thing we don't tell these young sex-crazed young adults is that the cruise is all female. They only find out after the cruise leaves port. At first, they are going to be weirded out, but hey, it's a free cruise, so they will try to enjoy themselves.

But here's where it gets good. All the food is phallic shaped. All the drinks have dirty names. On tv, only porn. The music that is played over the ship's pa has been taken from soundtracks of the porn industry's best. Everything says, "sex." So first the women resort to drunk hook-ups with other chicks (we might have to pay some royalties to Joe Francis for this). Then after six months of phallus-less cruising, we dock. But not to let the women off of the ship, but to send hundreds of male midgets on board.

This is where the game gets interesting. The last person, who resorts to having sex with a little person will win one million dollars, but none of the women know this. The jingle goes as follows, "MIDGET CRUISE! How long 'till you fuck 'em?" Every moment will be filmed. It will make us millions, Simmons. There could even be spinoffs. Season 2- Farm Cruise, same rules apply. And the third season could even be Simmons based. Simmons Cruise! How long till you fuck him?

(It should be noted that I am not drunk, but this is a well-developed concept that came to me while drinking.)

So we will see if I get picked, lol.

My favorite drink

Not only is this rum racially insensitive, it is actually rhum. And that's not even the best part, it's dirt cheap and goes down like it's  malibu.

Working Hard

These are some of my notes. Let me tell you firsthand, I am working really hard.

This is one of my favorites, which is titled "Janked Bitch." It's from my cubist period.


Edgar actually loves cock. No seriously, look at that detail. The face coming in from the far side is just pure genius. 

So as you could have probably guessed I am giving up writing to focus full time on shit-talking- art. If anyone would like to be my patron, I will gladly draw you in any artistic style of your choosing.

A Mllie

Posts. Really though, I am going to upload some of my drawings tonight. But for now, enjoy this . Or don't enjoy it and fuck off. 

Weeeee

Wrote a column for the daily cal. There is a small typo, which I cannot claim responsibility for, but I think it still is an okay read. 

Let me know. 

Sorry for neglecting you. The internet died this weekend at the university. The whole uni went down. Not just the dorms, but the whole damn thing. Yeah, Spain is still in the stone age.

Going to see bruno tonight in English with spanish subtitles. I'm excited. 

Travel

PART 3. 

travel

There are some sentences that I am really proud of. Pt 2.

Travel Blog

I got back on the circuit with the Daily Cal travel Blog, and this is the first of a three part installment. 

Check yo'self.

Zot x2

"What language do they speak in Portugal?"-asks Man U guy.

Zot Zot

Zot-Zot pt III

"Where does Manchester United play?"

– One of my classmates on the way to see Christiano Ronaldo's presentation to Real Madrid. 

Zot-Zot.

And in case you were wondering the correct answer is : Manchester, England. Their stadium is Old Trafford. But just Manchester would have worked.

Zot-Zot pt II

A girl in my class– "Wow, look at the gondola!"

Zot-Zot

Zot-Zot

I have recently found out that the UCI students show their support for their mascot, the anteater (read: shitty mascot), by pinching their two middle fingers together with their thumb, with the pointer and pinkie up in the air (the old NWO wolfpack symbol) and they yell, "Zot-Zot!" 

Zot-Zot. 

Most of my classmates here in Madrid are very smart, but there are some people that make you question the foundation of the American educational system. They are really fucking dumb, like Zot-Zot.

As a result, I have adopted Zot-Zot as a way of pointing out people's dumb actions, quotes, or overall dumbassness. I think it is catching on. 

I plan on using this when I get back. So pick it up now. 

Zot-Zot. 

Idiocy

In class yesterday, our film instructor asked the class which two groups fought in the Spanish Civil war. 

A girl responded, "France!" 

Our teacher then proceeded to question the class, "Do you know what civil war means?"

I am a little dumber because of that moment. 

Zot-Zot

Photobucket

Alyse and I got one for all of our pictures from the trip, because the only thing worse than someone who updates their status every time they think of something like it's twitter is someone who posts all of their photos from a trip. 

So if you want to see them, go to photobucket.com and search joebosan or linked here. 

The albums are on the left side and are still being uploaded at the moment. And will surely be edited by Alyse, who already wants me to take down this gem. 

Skirting the issue- Rant

We are here. Well, not really. The university is a little further out of Madrid then the brochure might have led one to believe. Close enough. 

With our ten days of travel now over, I have some good stories for you. One in particular is quite funny. 

Earlier, I bitched and bitched and bitched about the French being, yup you guessed it, bitches. Here's a good reason. 

Alyse and I are walking into the Sacre Couer, a nice cathedral near our hostel. Pretty, but when did Catholic churches start charging to see things inside of it? They were literally charging 4-5 euros to go see the chapel in the back with the blessed Eucharist. Let me tell you, when you have seen one eucharist, you've seen them all– that's the point. I guess this is why the French are mostly protestants (read: pagans). 

Anywho, when we are walking into the pews, some random-ass old indian guy, who looked as if a shovel had been taken to his face one time more than a hundred, approached us. No joke, his eyes went every which way other than straight. So when he grabbed Alyse by the arm and started scolding her, we were kind of weirded out. 

We don't speak French or whatever shit was coming out of his mouth, but it appeared that he was offended by the length of Alyse's skirt, which was quite modest by today's standards. "Mademoiselle...blah blah blah." 

He pointed at her skirt (I'm telling you, it was a fine skirt) and then pointed towards the exit. This fucker was making a scene in church. Get this, he didn't even work for the church. He was just some rando-fat-ugly-bastard. 

After he realized we weren't giving a damn what he thought, he stormed off in his bitch-ass french way– he surrendered. No one else had a problem with it or dared to confront Americans, whose grandfathers had saved their cowardly ancestors from Hitler. They should have thanked us.

Moral of the story, if you are only living because we saved you, then you should probably take it like you always have and keep your mouth shut. 

But this only ends the French section of the story. 

In Venice at St. Mark's square, we turn to part two of the story. They charge too. 

As we walked into the church, we were stopped by church employees, who made Alyse, wearing a very modest sundress, put on a scarf over her shoulders. They almost made her wrap one around her waist because her dress didn't quite cover her whole knee. 

The thing about this, is that they were charging a euro for the napkin they put on her. They didn't care about her modesty necessarily, because she was well-dressed. They were just trying to make a buck off the free entrance. Ridiculous. Oh and at the end of the walk around the church, they make you give back the napkins. 

I didn't realize a church could be such a profitable enterprise. Forget selling consumer products, let's take over a church and live like kings.

Here it was 4 euro to climb to the top (another 2 if you wanted to take the lift), 4 euro to see the chapel, and a euro per napkin. Pure insanity. I refuse to pay to be catholic. It was really bothersome and, as you can tell, it still is bothering me. 

The Vatican was better. Saw the pope and oddly enough he didn't stop the pope mobile as he went by to tell us that he had a problem with Alyse's fashion. The swiss guard didn't care, nor did the people running St. Peter's Basilica, nor the people at the Vatican museum, or at the Sistine chapel. It was refreshing. It did cost money to see the vatican museum, but it was well worth the 12 euros or whatever the cost. 

The pope was free. The point is, you shouldn't have to pay for religion and, as long as you are not in a bikini and are wearing clothes, you should have a place to worship. 

Thanks for reading the rant. Sorry, it probably wasn't that enjoyable. Therefore I offer you this joke as reparation. My dad told it to me. 

A woman, who has been married for twenty years, has recently taken issue with her sex life– her husband insists that they always have sex with the lights off. 3-5 times a week for the last 20 years, the lights were always off. It really bothered her. 

So one night, while she was having sex with her husband, she flicked the lights on. 

"What is that?" she exclaimed. 

"It's a dildo," her husband said. 

"Am I not attractive enough anymore?" She asked.

"No, no, it's not that."

"Well, what is it?"

"I'm impotent. Always have been. I did this, so you wouldn't leave me because of the no sex thing."

"Oh," she said. She was embarrassed. 

"Alright," he said.  "Now, you explain the 3 kids."

Venice Thought

This was an internet-less thought I had the other day while in Venice:

There's an American movie on our 12 inch tv, it's dubbed into Italian. I can't recognize any of the actors. It might not be Hollywood, but it's definitely not Italian. The German Shepherd is really smart. It knows things– I couldn't tell you what– other than that it is smarter than any dog on television. Air Bud was good, REX is better, well, at least I think his name is Rex. 

 We're in Venice now. It rained our last day in France. We were up at the Sacre Couer and it started pouring (it was supposed to be sunny). We had one sweatshirt. And as it became more and more obvious during our short stay in France, I have more manners than the entire Parisian population (read: Alyse wore the jacket). 

The French were rude. They climb over you in line. Bump into you in public without so much as a "sorry." And they generally only look out for number 1. 

The French are all " I guys." To translate, all we heard this whole trip was "Me, me, me, me, me," to which another person would respond with "No, me, me, me,me!" and on and on for days. 

The city was beautiful. We saw it all on a free tour with a company called NewEurope, who's guides work solely for tips. 

Oh, no gondola rides for us. A 100 euro a ride. Wait, what? Yeah, 100 euro a ride. Come on everybody, say it with me in unison– FUCK THAT.

World Tour- update

It is not my fault, the hostels do not have internet. I am literally writing on a computer that still runs on windows 95. Ouch. Oh and I cannot find the apostrophe so no contractions for today. Anyway, France was fun, but the people are bitches, more to come on that later. Right now, we are in venice on borrowed internet time, which is wacked. So there supposedly free internet in roma , where we will be the next few days, so expect posts. And then after that Spain for 5 weeks, where I will get back to my old daily schedule.
I hope this finds you well.

Europa

2 months. Here we go. 

Sporadic updates. Great Stories. And pictures. 

I'm about to make Europe my bitch.

Quote Bag

"Why are you always riding his ass?"

My father to me, regarding me bitching Jake around about everything, all the time.

Sex and the City

I am watching the movie, again. This time with my mom and my brother. 

I like this movie, which, as Jake and Bruno point out, is such a Samantha thing to say. Anyway, I really like this movie. 

It goes beyond the typical surface of the show. It has depth. It depicts serious problems that cannot be resolved with a Carrie Bradshaw one liner at the end of the episode. And most importantly the source of the problems are not blamed on the men. 

The problems are on both people, so to say that every problem is a result of a multitude of things. No, this isn't bitching about my relationship with Alyse, because anything that goes wrong in that one is always my fault, really, I'm not being sarcastic. We're perfect just for the record.

 But this movie says something about problems in general. It shows the audience both sides of the problem. It's hard to do that in the real world, especially when you are involved, but it's something worth trying. Take yourself out of the situation and ask what about me is causing this issue, even if you feel that it is all on someone else, you are at fault as well. 

I know I'm not the poster boy for this. I'm sorry. There, that's a start. So, if I've wronged you, then Fuck off, it's your fault– only kidding.

Give it a try. And watch the movie too. 

The prophet

I said 5, and it was 5. Sure 5 games is a safe bet, but damn it feels good to be right.

I told Alyse and I now tell you as well, if the Cavs get two non-role players (scorers), then the parade will be in Cleveland this time next year. 

James needs less witnesses on his team and more serious ball players. Without some moves for a better supporting cast, it will be a healthy Celtics squad that take it all in '10.  

It has been said, so it shall be done. 

OBEY SALE

Once again, it was legit. Everything was dirt cheap and worth the wait and Andrew and I got a funny story out of it. 

So we get to the warehouse at 12:45 am and I send Andrew to check it out while I park. Parking takes me, maybe, 2 minutes max. 

He calls me to tell me that they are giving wristbands out so we don't have to wait outside all night. I run over there, literally sprint. 

And as luck would have it, Andrew got the last wristband and I was the first person who didn't get one. I had to wait outside all night. But being the good friend that Melchor is, he didn't let me hold down the front of the line alone. 

So there we were, in the middle of a parking lot, next to 3 port a potties and a dumpster, in the middle of Orange County in our sleeping bags.  

I got about 45 minutes of sleep because this kid next to me kept talking. Comics. Tetris. What was inside. He was dying to know. He had a million questions about the sale because I was an expert, having been there last year. 

Melchor slept like a baby (read: bitch) for about 4.5 hours. 

The pain of sleeping in a parking lot was worth it. It was an experience. And the prices were so cheap. 

OBEY does not disappoint. Good times. 

Sportswriting- sometimes it hurts

One of my daily blog reads, Jeff Pearlman (sportswriter), put up a good piece today about a difficulty that comes with writing sports– the players' egos.

With the exception of Men's crew, I have been lucky with my teams, who, for the most part, enjoy seeing their name in print or respect me enough to answer some questions even after a tough loss. 

But it has been a while since an athlete completely blew me off, and I feel this guy's pain.

Ouch.

Gran Torino

Watching it for the third time with the family, I still really like it. 

First time I saw it, I cried.

Second time, I realized why I like this film so much. It remind

One of my favorite themes in all of literature is a man who no longer can find a place in the society that he defined his life around–Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, I am at a loss to recall others. In Walt Kowalski's case, it is the America that he fought to defend.

The dialogue from Clint is awesome. Some of the shit he says is so outrageous and racist, it's surprising.

ex:

I used to stack fucks likes you, five feet high in Korea, use ya for sand bags.

Oh, I've got one. A Mexican, a Jew, and a colored guy go into a bar. The bartender looks up and says, "Get the fuck out of here." 

(while grilling for his Hmong neighbors) "How do you like your dog -- I mean steaks?"

He calls people Pusscake. 

Great movie. Laugh, Cry, good either way.

See it. You won't be disappointed.

Travel Blog

As promised, here is a link to the Daily Cal's travel blog I am writing for.

A few more days to go, then I'm out bitches.

An Important Announcement

Paolini's pregnant. That is all.

Grammar Issues

I understand that the world is ending and soon Jesus and his wife and kids (Credit: Dan Brown) and the four horsemen will be here to fight the battle of Good vs. Evil. But really, do we have to let grammar fall by the wayside?

A&E seems to think so. The other night I was watching Bridezillas with Alyse. Yes, we watch Bridezillas and fuck yea, I love it. 

During the commercials between the bitchfest that is Bridezillas, A&E was begging us to watch their show "Gene Simmons Family Jewels."

No typo here. Grammar Fail. Where is the apostrophe to show ownership? It doesn't make sense. Is the apostrophe considered to be a stylistic punctuation? 

If it were a stylistic dispute  the dispute would be this:

"Gene Simmonses' Family Jewels" 

or 

"Gene Simmons's Family Jewels"

 or more simply

"Gene Simmons' Family Jewels" 

I don't care which you like better, but the apostrophe is necessary. The show is about Gene Simmons and his family, so to speak, Gene Simmons is the reason people watch the show, the family jewels just belong to him. The show would also work as "Gene Simmons and his Family Jewels."

But Goddamit, it cannot be "Gene Simmons Family Jewels." Unless they are trying to say that these are four related nouns without a verb, which doesn't really make sense either. 

Oh well, I'm changing this to Joe Cannon Blog and I'll send a letter to Disney because they need to change it to "Walt Disney Magic Kingdom." 

The Hangover

Carlos (above) deserves a nod from the academy for this one.

Overall, not my favorite movie. But there were a few parts in it that I cried from laughter. I don't want to spoil it. Carlos was fucking awesome.

Go see it. It was worth the matinee price. I would've paid the non-student discount evening price as well.

Oh and there was a special Bruno trailer before the film and people were literally dying in the theatre. I cannot wait.

For now sate your appetite with The Hangover or if you're Paolini text everyone you know and tell them that Kobe has AIDS (Legal Note: He does not).

Charlie Murphy

His "True Hollywood Stories" captured Jacuzzi Dude hearts everywhere for years and now, after a brief hiatus, Charlie Murphy returns as LeRoy Smith, the man who motivized Michael Jordan. 

This is epic.

OBEY

It was bad ass last year. I'm sure it will be great again.

Softball

The season's over. It was fun. I really think that softball is a great sport. And I'm in good company, apparently Jake Locker, who I wish would wear a Cal jersey, was up in OKC for the WCWS as well. Read this

NBA Finals

Lakers in 5. 

You know I hate Kobe, but I love the lakers. I miss the old days, not showtime, but Shaq era. It was just better then. 

The Magic are good, but I don't think they can handle the entirety of LA's lineup. 

Rashard Lewis will have to shoot over either Trevor Ariza or Lamar Odom, not Delante West. The one who doesn't guard Lewis will be on Turkoglu, who won't be able to get inside like he did against the Cavs, who had really no one to match-up with him.

The Lakers have no answer for Dwight Howard inside, but both of the Laker centers better than Z and Varejao. In Varejao's case, maybe not defense, but as a whole I would rather have Bynum and Gasol. If Howard can score 80 a game, this might be a series, but I doubt it. 

And as much as I hate to say it, Kobe will be, as always, unstoppable. If they all turn their heads toward Kobe, like they did against Lebron, the Lakers will make their open shots, if Kobe passes. Yes, Lebron is a better passer than Kobe, but it won't make a difference if they leave the Lakers as open as they left the Cavs. 

Skip to my lou can be handled by Derek Fisher, who is well past his prime.

The Wild Card is Jameer Nelson, who was just activated today. He will probably be out of shape a bit since he has been out for a few months, but the guy is baller. Nelson even 75% is better than any guard on the floor, so that will be interesting. If he gets nasty, I will have to take back my prediction.

Until then, this is the Lakers' championship to lose.

This will be a 5 game series, maybe 6. Maybe. 

 

I have been awful

My blog updating has sucked. There is no way around that fact. For the most part of this summer, I have done nothing. Nothing. I have no excuse at all. None. 

Well, not exactly. I have been spending the majority of my time trying to figure europe out. Alyse and I just booked hostels for Paris, Venice and Rome, which for the most part were kind of expensive, but they tell me you only do this once, so here goes. 

I have never been out of the country, other than to mexico, which looks a hell of a lot like southern california, so I refuse to count that. 

I'm really excited for the trip, but Alyse and I are both horrid worriers, making our preparation a little more stressful than it needs to be for an amazing summer. 

Sidenote: I refuse to let this turn into shitty ramblings about my time in europe, I will be contributing that info to the Daily Cal travel blog and if I ever get around to making my first post I will link to. I will, however, share with you stuff that I know you will find interesting, like if I get hit on by an obese, cross-dressing taxi driver. I will not tell you how much everything costs, because to be honest Mark Cheever does a damn good job of the numbers/ history  game in his travel blog.

But yeah, Alyse is now ready to go buy our eurail select passes ($279 each), so I will continue this later.

I promise.

Eastern Conference Finals

I sincerely believe that not one of LeBron James' teammates could start for any team that played in the conference finals, east or west. 

They are awful. They can't make an open shot. They take bad shots. The suck at defense. BAD, just bad. 

If he had, lamar odom or rashard lewis or  Hedo Turkoglu or Trevor Ariza or Chauncey Billups or Melo or anybody that is not on the Cavaliers, put a ring on his finger. But alas, reality is upon us and a 19 point half-time deficit is on him. 

The KING can do it.

The Weight of Europe

With two weeks to go, I am dying. 

Euros to dollars

Kilometers to miles

Military time to real time

Foreign language to American

Train or Plane.

Madrid to Paris to Venice to Rome or Madrid to Rome to Venice to Paris

Hostels or Hotels

Day Trains or Overnight

Reservations or on the fly

That sort of shit.

It is a lot of planning and a lot of decision-making for something which could turn out to be one of the best summers of my life.  If and only if, Alyse and I don't die first, which is a real possibility. 

Other than that, I am enjoying my time at home. Movies every night, pool and hanging out all day. It's the life. 

If you get time, see "Taking Chance." It's an HBO film and it's excellent. Kevin Bacon is an old marine, who volunteers to take the body of a dead soldier back to the family. Powerful stuff. My dad says that it's non-political, but it is distinctly anti-war and I couldn't agree more. It should be on-demand or online, check it out. 

And if you are in need of a lighter film, watch MASH. Straight Classic.

Cosmetic Post

In the words of Chick Hearn, this is a makeup for what I just did. So Coheed and Cambria's old drummer is a rapper. He's good. Apparently, this was something he just put together out of the blue. But you know I hate Asher Roth, who did got to some half-ass, no quarter-ass institution back east. 

And it seems that Weerd Science hates him too. 

right click here to download

"Art"

I heard the new Miley Cyrus/ Hannah Montana/ the lost Jonas sister's new single entitled "The Climb" and I said, "Damn this is something I have heard before."

The similarities between the songs are awesome, so here you go. If you haven't seen Walk Hard, I suggest you take some time out of your nonexistent life and watch it.

Now, here is Mickey Mouse's new song.

Bad Days

This story will always make you feel better. 

There was once this guy name Jim. He had a pretty tough life, so the next time you think that your life sucks, think about Jim. 

These are the details of Jim's life. 

 Jim was the oldest of 4 brothers. When he was 13, his parents died in a car accident, leaving him to take care of his brothers. He worked two jobs in high school and never  had time for a girlfriend. 

He had a college scholarship, but couldn't accept it because he had to raise his siblings. They were his whole life. When his brothers reached the high school age, they rebelled against the only father figure they had– Jim. 

Jim wasn't a bad father, but they treated him like it. They refused to get jobs. They had fun and lived their lives. His closest brother, Jared, went off to college and was never heard from again. The youngest brother got into drugs and the middle brother alcohol. They were best friends and one night, just like their parents, were driving drunk and hit the center divider going 85 mph. Dead on impact. 

Jim, 22 at the time, fell into depression, struggling to come to grips with the loss of his brothers. The only thing that made him feel better was to work. He had become a manager at McDonalds. It had become his life. 

Jim worked himself to the bone. He thought it was from working so much and he didn't have to go to a doctor, so he just kept working. Jim's autopsy revealed that he had a severe heart condition. He had a heart attack while passing a bagged meal to a customer. There was nothing he could have done, it was all in his genetics. 

When Jim died at 25, he had no family and no friends. He was completely alone. He had never been kissed, never had a girlfriend, and never had a real emotional connection with anyone other than the family that left him. Jim died a virgin.

The End

Aging Parents

Being home is great, except that my parents are slowly becoming more  and more like my grandparents.  

My dad has asked me on four separate occasions,  if I have seen the film Taken. I have. I have. I have. I have. 

Apparently, they are now worried about my upcoming trip to Europe. My mom probably was freaking out, because, hell, everything in movies are true. 

With that in mind, here is Alyse's and Joe's plan for Spain. 

1. Meet guy at airport
2. share cab with said cute, foreign guy.
3. Get dropped off first, so he knows where we live. 
4. Don't lock doors at empty house
5. Become high-end prostitute and be sold to drug lords.
6. Be saved by our badass fathers, who just killed 300 people to save our worthless asses.
7. Still not know if our father is really liam niessen or ralph fiennes or both, who as you will come to agree with me are the same person. 

Mr. Patten's Chair- finals version

This is CT's favorite story probably of all time. In the span of 30 seconds, we ruined a relationship with a teacher, who, until that point was probably the most laid back teacher ever. 

Throughout the whole year, Tim and CT came together to try and ruin the yearbook, my co-editors in chief didn't let that happen, but they tried. They deleted pictures off of spreads, they drew penises on Paint and put them everywhere (actually, they drew a bit of everything– frozen jizzy shake machines, cocktopusses and other miscellany. the paint obsession started when tim drew a picture of himself hanging CT). They called themselves Bacardi and Cola and they did everything but get the job done. 

But we got the book out, so fuck them and we can laugh about it now. So this is spring of senior year, we are sitting in the Patten's classroom (the yearbook room) shooting shit as usual.  

Tim is sitting in Patten's very nice rolly leather chair, but this is not just any chair, this is the only nice thing that Patten has in his whole room. He paid for it himself and when a teacher is working at Damien High school making peanuts, this chair means a lot. 

We were left alone in the classroom, which is a fairly usual occurrence for Damien (read: happens in just about every class).

So tim is sitting there, rolling around. Some newspaper guys were in and out of the room and somehow a football player got Tim out of the chair and threw himself down into the nice chair trying to slide across the room– CRACK! 

Uh-oh. The newspaper guys slowly slink out like nothing happened. The chair looked fine, but when Tim got back into his chair, it was clear that one of the wheels was no longer rolling. 

Tim, for one reason or another, becomes infuriated that the chair doesn't roll. Rather than trying to fix it, Tim props the chair up so that the broken wheel is exposed and slams his foot down onto the plastic– CRACK! The wheel falls right off. 

Ct and I are sitting next to each other in desks a few feet away and we were shocked. What the fuck was he doing? We are laughing, dying, rolling on the floor. What are we going to do? It wasn't us. 

We can hear Patten coming down the hall from getting coffee. Tim puts the wheel in place and runs over to a desk.

Dead silence. Patten had to be thinking, what the fuck did they do now? He smiles his goofy smile and sits down in the chair– the wheel  pops off. 

"YOU MOTHERFUCKERS. WHO DID THIS? WHO?"

Dead silence, we are holding our breath and biting our lips to keep from laughing.

Patten gets more pissed. We still don't answer. We couldn't hold it in any longer. Everyone busts up in unison. 

 It only gets worse, when he says,

"YOU PEOPLE SHOW ME SUCH A LACK OF DISRESPECT." He picks up the wheel of the chair and hurls it across the room at my brother, coming within an inch of his face. 

Patten kicks us all out, telling us he never wants to see us again until one of us disrespecters comes out and says who did it. "YOU FUCKERS OWE ME A CHAIR. (TIM) GRACZA YOU OWE ME A CHAIR."

We came back the next day after Tim said that he broke it off only because Teddy broke it. Patten could have hit him. He wanted to as Tim smiled in his face, finishing every sentence with "Sir." 

"YOU STILL OWE ME A CHAIR."

He still hates Tim to this day. They had a chance meeting at Jake's grad party last summer, and Patten smiles about it now, but you can tell he's still not over the chair. And Tim never bought him a new one. 

 

The Confirmation Pizza

I shouldn't be doing this, really I shouldn't. But I owe you and I'm procrastinating with another installment of The Jacuzzi Dude Chronicles.

Frame: This is the Spring of '04 or even '03 but that's not important, when Tim and I were being the two worst people on Earth to one gentle soul named Steve. 80% of the shit we did was aimed to just fuck with him. We wanted a bitch. We chose him. He declined. We tried anyway. We probably owe Steve an apology for all the bad shit we have done to him over the years, but the shit we did to him was just too funny to be sorry about. Anyway, here goes.

One weekend, Steve had a confirmation retreat out in Palm Springs, where they stayed at some hotel/resort. Being that Tim and I had trouble, at the time and still do, with Lutheranism as a religion (and just about anything that wasn't Catholicism or our personal favorite "The Drum Religion"), we planned to do something awful to him. But we had no idea what to do. 

We told him that we were going to come visit him at the retreat and perform emergency baptisms on all the pagans. We would save them, we told him. He kept his phone on so we could call him and keep him entertained. 

Tim and I spent a long evening on Friday spent pondering in the jacuzzi. Saturday was free, but there was no way we were going to drive 50 miles just to yell obscenities at Lutherans, especially because a Mormon Temple is just down the street from Tim.

After our sleepover, Tim and I moved our plotting over to his house. We were sitting in his living room when it hit me. 

"Call Steve," I said.

"Alright. Why?" Tim asked, knowing that he wasn't going to get an answer–it's more fun that way. "Well, what do you want me to tell him?"

Phone ringing.

"Ask him where they are staying."

Tim asks. "The (name I forgot) hotel."

"Ask what room number."

Steve wants to know why.

"We want to visit you," Tim lies.

Steve bites and gives up his room number. He's excited to see us–Dumbass.

"What city is that?" 

Palm Springs. Perfect. 

"Thanks Steve, we will be there in an hour, we just mapquested it," Tim hangs up. 

"He said that  they are about to eat lunch."

While this conversation is going on, I have been busy at the computer. 

"I wonder if Steve is hungry?" I ask. 

"Pizza?" Tim knows.

"Oh, yeah."

So we order one medium pepperoni pizza to Steve's room from Domino's. Thank you that will be $12.88 in cash and your pizza will be there in a half hour, Mr. Bridge. 

We wait.  We high five each other. We are laughing hysterically thinking of how fucked up we are. 

Then 10 minutes later, one of us gets the brilliant idea that one pizza isn't enough. How rude of us to forget about all of the other confirmation campers, they probably like pizza too. So this time we hit up Nick's pizza or some mom and pop shop like that for one more pep pizza. It'll get there in 45 minutes.

Time passes and Tim and I can barely hold it together waiting for the call back. 

It comes. 

"YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS PIZZA! WE JUST ATE PIZZA AT LUNCH! GOD DAMMIT. FUCK YOU GUYS. YOU ASSHOLES! I DON'T HAVE ANY MONEY WITH ME! MY LEADERS HAD TO PAY FOR THE PIZZA!" As you can imagine Steve is rather upset. 

But I hold it together. It wasn't us, I tell him. We swear. I am dying inside. I am trying to hold down the fort knowing that he is going to get another delivery in 15 minutes. He keeps screaming, tells us to fuck ourselves and hangs up. 

Tim and I just Prank-gasmed. How can this get any better? Oh, wait. It is going to get better, he has another pizza coming. 

Call number two featured an utterly defeated Steve at the point of tears. Literally, he was so pissed he cried. Then his confirmation leaders get on the phone and cuss us out. THIS IS GREAT. They lecture us and berate us, question how we were raised and if we are christians.  

Tim and I go and tell everyone, including our parents. They applaud our creativity but decide that it may be best to pay back steve for the pizzas, that is when he starts to talk to us again. 

We paid him back after about two weeks of silence but only because it was worth it, not because we were sorry for it.

Bruno

Krause sent this over to me and I can't wait. This is my summer movie list.

the Bruno movie Trailer
Uploaded by truman_show85 - Classic TV and last night's shows, online.

Finals

I have been horrible about updating this lately. But my excuse is finals are here and they are owning my soul. Truth be told, I only have one final and three papers, so I shouldn't be bitching and I should just shut the fuck up and write. 

So here comes a rant on facebook statuses. I cannot tell you how annoying it is to read status after status that reads 

"...is 3 papers away and then freedom." Note: If you are going to use this, you must follow it up with something clever, new and fresh. Like how you are going to fuck up your exams or something ridiculous that you plan to do after. 

Working Example: "...is going to inseminate this test and then I'm going to Disneyland to inseminate Mickey Mouse." Also repetition works magic.

Or 

"is making Kevin Costner his bitch and is about to show him his field of dreams and cause more damage to his career than waterworld did."

More status fails:

"...thinks that finals should go away." Remedy: kill yourself.

 "...is in the stacks, come visit me." Answer: No and stay there. 

"... wishes she were at the beach rather than studying for poli sci 2." Remedy: Drop out now. You could live at the beach forever (read: The Hoff). 

"Joseph Cannon hates you, every single one of you."

Lastly, Facebook recently added the "I like" button. There should be a "kill yourself" button.

 

Mc-Potle

Have you had chipotle? I'm sure you have. Everyone has had it at least once. Unless of course you care about your health (read: Alyse). 

As of late, I have become addicted to the veggie burrito bowl. I get it to go. I eat it there. I think about it a lot. This is bad.

 

A little 900 calorie meal never hurt anybody, right? 

Well 900 before  you wash it down with a big 300 cal soda because Diet Coke out of the tap is gross. Oh and you're going to need to get a refill because this shit is spicy. 

Oh and don't forget the chips. Gotta have those chips. Add 600 and even you are getting fat just reading about what I ate. 

And now I'm eating candy. Morbid Obesity here I come, again. 

You got Hochuli-ed!

I love Ed Hochuli and I love the Chargers. That being said, read this article. 

And as someone who has always hated manny ramirez, the news today just confirms my opinion of him. 

What's in a name?

For the past 2 years that Alyse and I have been together, I have been trying to come up with a kick-ass, semi-cute, but mostly usable nickname. I have failed, over and over. She never likes any of the nicknames and damn have I been clever about it.

Who can turn down the name Gubbles the Gubbler? Alyse did, but if you want it, the name is yours. I'm thinking that Moisa is no longer flapjack or bitch, he is now permanently "gubbles the ass gubbling gubbler".

But last night, I had a new development in the search for Alyse's pseudo identity. SHORT STACK. Simple, succinct and sexy– SHORT STACK. What more could Alyse want, I asked myself. Apparently, she wants something cute. SHORT STACK is not cute, she says, and however much I disagree, she doesn't like it.

Oh and in case you were wondering if got to judge my own nickname, the answer is no. To Alyse, I am "Sticky face" or "Mr. Silly". I was given no choice. But I must say, I have come to like em.

Trust Issues

Last night in the party bus on the way to Alyse's formal in the city, this girl, who was visibly inebriated, asked me to hold her camera while she dropped a deuce.
And if you know me, or have trusted me with your camera, then you just said, "No, you idiot. just hold the camera yourself."
If you said this, then you should win a prize.
In the minute and a half that she was in the bathroom, I took probably 15-20 obscene pictures of myself.
When she got out, the girl was wondering how it came to be that I had her camera, so I explained that she had given it to me to hold.
She was still angry but she took her camera and moved on with the rest of her night. But when she went to load her pictures onto facebook, she had some surprises.
Most of my pictures did not make it up but these are priceless.

Let this be a lesson to all of you, I am a bad person and should never be trusted.

Failure to Write

Today, I found out that I didn't get into any of the creative writing classes that I had applied for. I was originally bummed, really bummed. Three different teachers had separately decided that my writing wasn't good enough to earn entrance into their classes. And this is not the first time that this has happened to me either, I went 0-3 a year and a half ago as well. In other words, the english department has spoken loud and clear and unanimously said that I suck, my writing is bad and my parents' should have said "no" to me on more occasions as a child.

But after some textual support from my girlfriend, I have come to this conclusion:

FUCK THAT.


My writing does not suck. Raise your hand if you disagree (Do not raise your hand as it will not be counted, this post is on tape delay and the votes were tallied live) Judging by the show of hands, or lack thereof, I don't suck. So fuck them for telling me I suck.

One of my submissions was my Number ten essay, which I thought was pretty fucking good, let's see a show of hands? Tim, only one hand please. Yes, I know you thought it was a gem but only one vote. Yes, I know you are number ten too. Yeah I agree, fuck that professor, he was just jealous that he's not on the list, bitchass. Don't worry, we still are number ten, nothing can ever take that away from us.

In conclusion, the only justification for their denial of my greatness was that they made a mistake. And I accept their apology, but I will never forgive them. Someday, they will all have a copy of my book waiting for them on their desk in their office, with a personal letter from me written on the inside cover. It will read– "Suck it."

David Caruso

Now watch this video-




David Caruso is a God.

Unicorns

Warning If you press this button, you will be assaulted by unicorns:



Keep clicking and they will regenerate themselves and there will be more and more and more and more and more until you can no longer see your computer screen, but keep clicking and they will eventually jump out of your computer and become real live unicorns that you can ride and play with and they can be your only friend.

Pao- Consider this an early birthday present.

My one act play

Saying No to Children

 

Scene: A father stands in his perfect living room with his son (4) and daughter (5) jumping up and down at his waist, reaching for what he has in his hands. He stares straight forward unmoved by his children’s requests.

Characters:

Father- 30-40, he needs to appear upright and moral, clean cut, well dressed even in casual clothes, he is the kind of guy that based on appearance must be trusted and liked, but when I wrote this I was thinking Carey Grant.

It is extremely important that the children are both extremely lovable, they, like the father, must command that “perfect” quality. They must not act out wildly or be brats or anything that could bring on negative feelings from the audience. The problems that arise must be completely of the parent’s own fabrication.

Daughter- adorable little girl who cannot say her “R’s.”

 Son- standard boy.

Mother- well-to-do woman. She completes the perfect family unit.

Lawyer- disheveled, scatter brain type, who seems to be the intrusive, moochy neighbor.

Lighting note: Asides should spotlight the character or characters with the rest of the action frozen with lights dimmed.

Note: I cannot stress how important it is that reality and believability should not be a concern when performing this play. That being said, push the limits of this screwball comedy as far as you please. Good luck.

 

Father

Now, you must promise to not tell your mother. Do you hear me?

Son

Candy/ Candy/ oh please can I have it?

Daughter

Gimme / Candy/ Candy/ Daddy, please.

Father

Promise?

Children

Uh-huh. (Father hands them the “candy”, the little boy eats the two pink tablets right out of the Father’s hand)

Daughter

Oh, no daddy, mommy said not to eat the ones with the A on them. She said it’s medicine, not candy.

Father

Well, mommy’s not a doctor now is she? (pulling the little boy back, and using his shirt to wipe off all of the slobber)

(Aside: But she is damn good at games of chance.)

Daughter

But we haven’t had breakfast. And mommy says no candy for breakfast.

Father

It’s my day to take care of you, so I make the rules. And I say you can eat candy even for breakfast.

Son

Yuck, daddy, this candy is baaaaad. (Father practically shoves the tablets into his daughter’s mouth)

Father

 Well medicine isn’t made to taste good. (Aside: Oh, here we go. Now I’ve done it. One slip and the one-boy-Why?-Parade commences. If only I would’ve gone tails, then it would’ve been my day off.)

Son

But I thought it was candy?

Father

I meant candy. (Aside: Thank god they are still little idiots.)

Son

But why did you say medicine?

Father

I didn’t mean to.

Son

Why?

Father

(Aside: Hold it together, Hold it Together. Only a few more Why’s before the adult Ambien hits and he’ll be out all day.)

Daughter

When’s mommy coming home from work?

Father

She just left.

Daughter

But when?

Father

She’ll be back by the time you wake up from your nap.

Son

When’s nap time? I’m tired.

Father

Soon. (Aside: But not soon enough) (checks watch)

Daughter

But we just woke up. (Son lays down on the floor)

Father

You’re growing children. Sleep helps the body.

Daughter

Well, I’m not tired.

Father

(pulling bottle of Ambien out of his pocket) Would you like some more candy? You have been such a good girl today. You deserve more.

Daughter

No thanks, I like the purple flavored ones better.

Father

Well, I have those too darling. (shaking some tablets out of the bottle and he gives them to the daughter)

Daughter

But this tastes the same kind of yucky as before.

Father

I’ll write a letter to the manufacturer.

Daughter

The wha…(yawning) (son had been playing on the ground with his toys but is now asleep beneath the Father’s feet)

Father

See you are tired. You can’t fool daddy. (Father picks her up, steps over son and lays her on the couch. He then moves some of the kids’ toys around them)

(Aside: I should’ve picked tails. Tails never fails. But four days in a row? I must be the unluckiest bastard in all-the-world. Well, at least the suburbs.)

Shhhhh. Just close your eyes. Yes, that’s it, sleeeeep.

(Daughter falls asleep. He now stands addresseing his sleeping children)

You see children, it’s not that daddy doesn’t love you, it’s that daddy has other things to do and you… well… get in the way. And, I mean, I know I shouldn’t tell you this now, at such young ages, but I have been needing to get this off my chest for a while… so here goes. You’re both adopted. (beat) (Wife steps in from a side door, and watches silently, seems unamused, but not mad or shocked, just kind of taking it in) Okay, not really, but it would make it a hell of a lot easier to get rid of you. (pause)Truth is, I’m not your father. (breath) No, no, I made the mistake of knocking up your mother and now I must suffer the consequences, but damn, you two are a hell of a punishment. Alright, I’ll try this again. And I have heard that a father should never say this to his children, but (beat) I don’t like you guys. Well, at least not yet. Face it, you are not capable of intellectual conversation, your Tee-ball games are boring, I mean, how could it be entertaining, your team is horrible. I know the league insists on not keeping score, but I have kept score and you have lost every, single, goddamn game. I cannot stand to lie you any more, saying “Good game, son,” because you have never had a good game and probably won’t until you learn how to tie your shoes. And you missy, 50 dollars a week for ballet lessons? You can’t even pirouette. I could think of far more productive ways of spending 50 dollars, like boarding school.

Mother

Do you really have to give this speech everyday/

Father

Honey you’re home from work early/ what’s the special occasion?

Mother

/My office is the guest bedroom/ coffee, why are the kids asleep?

Father

They were tired. (hiding the Ambien bottle behind his back)

Mother

You didn’t/ You did, again?/ You did.

Father

Didn’t what/ No, no, no we went over this yesterday. I remembered no drug induced comas just like you said/ Alright, I did. But I had to. I can’t keep watching them.

Mother

You lost the toss fair and square.

Father

Don’t you want to spend some quality time with your children?

Mother

No

Father

Well me neither. Look at this brochure for this boarding school in the Himalayas or/ (pulling out a fan full of brochures)

Mother

/Or Maybe we could get a babysitter. (picks up the phone book off the side table)

Father

What would our friends think? Two parents, who work from home, hiring a babysitter?

Mother

You’re unemployed

Father

I prefer in between jobs.

Mother

You haven’t worked since we met.

Father

Not true.

Mother

That was 10 years ago.

Father

What about the play?

Mother

The one about the parents/

Father

Where they don’t want to take care of their kids and they continually argue about whose turn it is.

Mother

How many times did it get rejected?/ a half?/ That was a horrible play. It wasn’t believable. I mean who wouldn’t want to take care of their kids?

Father

7 and a half/ I posted it on my blog and it got mixed reviews, so it’s not a full 8/ Us.

Mother

The point is, people don’t go around saying how much they dislike their children all the time.

Father

Sure they do.  Watch. I don’t like you (points to son) and I happen to not like you either.(a dismissive hand gesture towards the daughter)

Mother

(ignores him) Coffee, that’s what I’m here for, Coffee.

Father

Good luck. Are you going out to get it?

Mother

No. Didn’t you buy some at the store yesterday?

Father

The store?

Mother

Yes, the store. You went there to buy coffee and left the kids with me. Remember?

Father

Vaguely.

Mother

So you didn’t buy any then?/Coffee/ So where did you go?

Father

Buy what?/ Oh, yes. (beat) No, I didn’t./ Don’t worry about those silly little details now darling. I will run out and get some right away. (hurriedly grabs keys and wallet off the table, rushes over to give his wife a kiss on the cheek and nearly sprints towards the door.)

Mother

Oh no you don’t. (Father stops with door half open, gazing towards freedom)

Father

(Aside: Deep Voice Singing- Let My People Go!) What was that dear?

Mother

I’ll go, you stay hear and bond with the (looks around at the two children sleeping), uh, comatose.

Father

Honey, you have had a long, hard day at work (aside- 10:30. Or not). The kids were asking when you’d be home. Better stay.

Mother

These kids? The ones you decided to temporarily dispose of–Those children? The ones that are so drugged that they might sleep ‘till the end of summer vacation?

Father

Wouldn’t that be nice?

Mother

Rock, paper, scissors? Best of three?

Father

Let me think. Okay. Ready.

(They play. Father wins.)

Mother

You got twenty minutes.

Father

Love you. (runs out the door, screaming- freedom)

Mother

(turns towards children, then to audience.)

(Aside- Damn.)

(She then walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of booze. She shakes some pills out of the ambient bottle, and washes some down with a few long gulps from the flask. Sits down next to her daughter on the couch, then shakes her head and moves to the recliner.)

{End Scene}

 

{New Scene}

Dark outside. Mother still asleep on recliner. Children noticeably absent. House is strewn with toys.

Enter father, trying to sneak in, but when door clicks closed, mother is awakened.

Mother

Where have you been?/ What time is it?/ am or pm?

Father

Getting you the freshest coffee on Earth my dear (holds up Folgers instant mix)/ 11:30/ p.m.

Mother

Where did you get the coffee?

Father

Colombia.

Mother

Are those mickey mouse ears on your head? Did you go to Disneyland again?

Father

You know I love to see children happy.

Mother

You have two children right here.

Father

Not these ones. They are such ungrateful little bastards. Other kids do cute things like smile and giggle and hold their daddy’s hand. Our kids! Oh, God, Our Kids? Our kids… just…they just…/

Mother

Whine and shit/ and hit and moan and cry

Father

and piss and kick/ and…(looking around) where are the little idiots?

Mother

I was asleep. (They begin searching halfheartedly, under couch cushions, under the coffee table, whatever a kid could not hide under. They call out for their children under their breath.)

Father

Nope, not here.

Mother

I hate to say it, but I was wrong.

Father

About what?

Mother

Your nightly bedtime stories about runaway children. They finally worked.

Father

Yeah, but they didn’t take the prepackaged runaway kits I prepared for them.

Mother

You can lead a horse to water/

Father

But you can’t get it to jump in and drown itself. (shared laugh)

Mother

Well let’s finish the episode of Full House we started last night, then we’ll go out and look. Give ‘em a little extra time to get away. (They sit at the couch, turn on the T.V. and begin to snuggle.)

Father

That Michelle sure is cute and lovable, unlike our spawn.

Mother

 Isn’t it nice having the house to ourselves?

(Cut to Black for 3 seconds to show elapsed time)

 

Mother
That’s three episodes.

Father

Alright, I guess we’ll go now. They should’ve made it to the highway by now. And hopefully someone will take pity on our poor souls and drive them hundreds of miles away. (They Walk out the door.)

(Cut to Black for 3 seconds)

 

Mother

(Walking back in)

Do you think we should call the police? Just so it doesn’t look like we’re negligent.

Father

Not yet, Give ‘em a little more time. The further they get, the harder they are to find.

Mother

I guess your right.

Father

Think about it this way, remember when we eloped when you were only 18? Did your parents ever file a missing persons report?

Mother

No, but/No They haven’t/

Father

Even if they did, they have a horrible job looking for you/ We live an hour away.

Mother

So what you’re saying is/

Father

That everyone hates their children, they just show it in different ways. We don’t hit our kids. We don’t try to kill them. We just don’t like them, that’s all. Everyone just continually perpetuates this lie about the rewards of raising children because it’s what society tells us is right. It’s all propaganda. So think about all the things we can do without them. We could turn their rooms into a mini-gym or a sauna or a legitimite office or a game room, the possibilities are endless.

Mother

Yeah, ok, alright. I’m sorry for ever doubting you/

Son

(wanders down stairs) Daddy, I had a bad dream.

Mother and Father

(Aside- Damn!)

Mother

(turns towards son and back to Father, almost yelling) I thought you checked/

Father

/I guess I had just hoped that they had gotten our hints

Daughter

(wanders down stairs) I had a bad dream too. I always have bad dreams when you don’t read us a bedtime story

Son

I wanna hear the rest about Huck.

Mother

(Aside- father flips coin, mother calls, father loses- father turns toward the audience- Damn!)

Mother

Daddy’s going to read you a story. Now, go up to bed, he’ll be there in a minute. (Children go upstairs)

{End Scene}

 

{New Scene)

(Father and Mother seated at table with a lawyer in a tattered suit. Children playing with toys on the floor under the table.)

Lawyer

Irreconcilable differences? And you want me to represent both of you. (Father and Mother look at each other, smile, turn back towards lawyer and nod yes.) I must tell you that this is highly unusual, especially because you two seem to be getting along just fine. I usually have my clients sleep on this decision.

Father

We did.

Mother

Last night.

Lawyer

So what are these irreconcilable differences?

Father

Well there’s two. (Raises both arms above the table and points down at table, which the children are under.)

Mother

The kids.

Lawyer

Is this some kind of joke? Because kids always think it’s their fault when the parents get divorced.

Father

But really. It’s their fault.

Mother

It is. We wish we were joking.

Father

Do you have kids?

Lawyer

No, I’m not particularly fond of children/

Mother

So you understand?/

Lawyer

I always thought I would be fond of my own kin.

Father

Trust me, you won’t be/ And bore you/ and the lovely relationship that you had with your wife will be destroyed

Mother

They will plague you/ and take up all of your time/ by your own kin

Father

That’s what you have to look forward to.

Lawyer

Have you thought about boarding school?

Father

That’s only a temporary solution. They come home from breaks.

Mother

We think this would be the most permanent thing.

Lawyer

Do you still love each other?

Father

Outside of making these two monsters/ absolutely in love.

Mother

/Yes, I have never loved someone so deeply.

Lawyer

What about adoption?

Father

We are Catholic. We can’t do that. The church looks down on giving your kids away.

Mother

It’s in the commandments.

Lawyer

So who is going to take custody of the children?

Father

So this is what we were thinking./

Mother

/Neither of us.

Lawyer

I don’t think that’s possible, legally speaking.

Father

I see what you’re doing. You drive a hard bargain my friend. You little shark, you. How much do you want?

Lawyer

No, no sir. I’m afraid it can’t be done. Custody must be given to someone.

Mother

But why us?

Father

We didn’t ask for this.

Mother

We just wanted good kids.

Father

And look what we got.

Mother

A raw deal.

Lawyer

You both would have to be declared unfit to parent by the court in order to avoid custody.

Father

Meaning?

Lawyer

Meaning that you would have to something wrong with you. A bad drug habit. Abusing your kids, each other. Reckless behavior. That sort of thing.

Mother

We are bad. Just yesterday, we knocked the kids out with Ambien.

Lawyer

Now ma’am, let’s not be hasty. We all know that you two would never do something like that. That’s just crazy talk.

Father

We did. She’ not lying.

Lawyer

I have a hard time believing someone who is stuck between a rock and a hard place. But anyways, I don’t have the power to take your kids from you. You’ll need a social worker to come view the living situation.

Mother

Is there an emergency line we can call to get them over here?

Father

Like now?

Lawyer

I’m afraid not. It usually takes a few days. Then court.

Mother

So like a month?

Lawyer

It depends how bad the situation is. And I can tell you that it doesn’t look good for your cause.

Father

Doesn’t anyone care what we want.

Mother

Why is it always about the kids? It’s their fault anyways.

Father

So we’re stuck with them?

Lawyer

Unless something drastic happens, you seem like fine parents. I’ll be off now (picking up his briefcase and finishing the coffee that he has refilled four times during the short conversation, along with taking another cookie for the road, after having 4-6 on stage), I won’t waste anymore of your time. Good day. (lets himself out the front door.)

Mother

Damn!

Father

Damn!

Children

(Aside-Damn!)