The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

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Life

Day after day
Decision after countless decision
You live your life
Millions of quick yes’s or no’s
Do this, do that
Most of them are easy
Done without conscious thought
Some are made without you
Made for you
Some are Difficult
Involving thinking,
A choice between two pools
Of muddy water
Some you don’t want to make
And then
And then there’s the impossible decision
Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bells

***

I wrote this while eating at a combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell, and then read it to my friend. After I finished she shook her head and said, “I thought you were actually trying to write a good poem.” I laughed and said, “NOPE!”

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Du Jour of the Week

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Larry

I was shocked when the aliens came.

I was flabbergasted when they said they were going to destroy all human life on Earth.

And I was just plain pissed off when they said, “except Larry.”

Larry? Really aliens? Ok, sure, you’re hyper intelligent and each of you knows more than all of us combined and you’re smart enough to travel all the way to us and destroy all of us but … why Larry?

He’s such a jerk! You know I went out to lunch with him last week and when the bill came it was 19 dollars and some change and he left a twenty and that’s it! Hiya Larry, heard of tipping? You jerk.

You might wonder why I was out to lunch with Larry but it’s a work-politics thing and I don’t want to get into it. (And I’ll admit that I kind of enjoy whining about Larry – yes, I’m the guy that started asking the question, “was Larry’s dad a dentist, and his mom an enema?”)

In case you’re wondering his dad really is a dentist, and as far as I know his mother is not actually an enema.

Anyhow aliens, this is ticking me off. What will Larry do with the planet all to himself? I’ll tell you what he’ll do – he’ll continue walking around the office talking to himself about how he doesn’t have enough memory on his computer.

I can see it now. Four years after humanity is gone … He’ll be spending Saturday night the way he does now. Walking around Target, looking at CDs but not getting any of them because he doesn’t agree with the philosophy of the artist. Then he’ll head home to make soup and re-watch that one episode of Firefly with the hot red head.

Listen aliens – it’s great that you said you were going to give us seven years to clean up our acts and prove that we deserve to live on this planet. We appreciate it. But what does that mean? Does that mean we all need to live like Larry? Because there’s a mob from work forming and … ha! I can’t believe it! Dave’s got a pitchfork. Classic Dave. Anyhow there’s this mob forming and I don’t think Larry’s going to last seven years.

Any answers or tips or something would really be appreciated. Or hey, maybe if you rescind your threat or just – I know this is bad but – if you just changed it to destroying ALL humanity.

Spare Larry? I don’t think so.

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Du Jour of the Week

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Absentee Notice

Dear Fan (Fans?),

I apologize for my absence these past two weeks. I would tell you what I was up to, but it wouldn’t interest you. Instead I’ll tell you a made up story about what I was up to. The benefit here is this story will make me look adventurous, daring, and slightly less gangly.

***

“HA!” I shouted triumphantly from the top of the mountain. “They said I couldn’t do it – but I’ve got the panic-stricken 911 call to prove it!” Then I looked around and realized I had just had my first psychic moment.

Yes, self, you ARE about to call 911.

“WHERE AM I!?,” I shouted with a debonair and aloof attitude, quickly transitioning into crying.

“Sir, please calm down,” the 911 operator responded, clearly flirting with me.

“Why did I think climbing a mountain drunk would prove a point?” I asked this question because I really had no idea. Why DID I think that?

“Sir, you are on a mountain?” The dense 911 operator asked.

“Maybe …” Now it’s my turn to flirt. Be coy, be cool, be totally hipsville.

“Are you on a mountain? Are you ok?” So much worry, and we’ve just met. This operator sure does come on strong.

“I’m fine. But wait, here’s a hypothetical question. Can you actually throw up a lung? Because I may have just done that.” I knew I wasn’t fooling the operator by saying the word hypothetical, but I was hoping to fool myself. Seriously – is that a lung? That’s when I realized you have two lungs, so I immediately began to worry less. Fail-safe backups for everyone! Quickly I threw out a brilliant business proposition to the operator, “two hearts! Why not two hearts!?”

“Sir we need to locate you. You seem to be dehydrated, delirious, and stupid.” This operator was feisty! Ooh la la!

Dehydrated? I scanned my mental dictionary and located the word. Dang. In an effort to drink more booze I had emptied out a lot of my brain and gotten rid of this word. My mental dictionary had this note:

Dehydrated: see, doctor. ha ha ha. you’ll get this later you stupid drunk.

“Well,” I said to the operator, not remembering what was last said, “baseball season is here. How about that, huh?” I thought this was pretty clever.

“Can you describe to me where you are, sir? Have you been drinking?” Suddenly this was a bad first date. So many questions! Let’s focus on you, operator.

I looked around to get my bearings, and I was looking at the world.

Wait, it’s a map of the world.

Wait, it’s my shower curtain.

Oh, tequila. You mynx!

I had to think up something clever to say to the operator. Something to keep my lofty status that I’d already established intact. To go from a mountain top to a bathroom tub? That’s not cool. Think!, I thought to myself.

That’s when I thought of an inspiration – Lando Calrissian. He would know what to say!

“Say, when the cops get here, tell them to bring the popcorn – and I’ll bring the show.” Based on how cool I felt when I said that, I think a cape temporarily appeared and draped my shoulders. Lando to the rescue.

*Click.* The phone was off. Smooth operator.

I again took my bearings and realized I fit nicely in the bathtub. Why? Because I am not gangly.

Then some other stuff happened and it took 2 weeks.

The End

Addendum: All of this was a lie. Especially the part about fitting nicely in a bathtub. I am gangly.

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Du Jour of the Week