MesmericKiwi and I found a white erase board calendar sitting next to a chair in a campus eatery. We helpfully filled in a schedule for the benefit of the calendar’s owner, whenever they return for it.
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We argued for a while about what caption this should have, so one became the title. DEAL WITH IT.  IN CASE OF EMERGENCY BREAK LOCK The runner-up captions were: Brute Force Solutions: Just because it can be done that way doesn’t mean it should be. and The lock only works once. Googling my screen name produced this gem from back in 2005. I have no idea about the context of this info, only that some group of teen aged girls thought it was funny as hell. I’ve separated out the actual conversation from her conversation about the conversation for your convenience. lime margar iiTa: HAHAHA lime margar iiTa: who talks like that?! “A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!”, cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge’s nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach. “Bah!”, said Scrooge. “Humbug!” He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge’s, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again. “Christmas a humbug, uncle?”, said Scrooge’s nephew. “You don’t mean that, I am sure?” “I do”, said Scrooge. “‘Merry Christmas’! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough.” “Come, then”, returned the nephew gaily. “What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You’re rich enough.” So the story follows (Jake Sully / Paul Atreides) on this weird planet of (Pandora / Arrakis). Shit hits the fan with the death of his (brother / father) and he takes up refuge with the indigenous people, the (Na’vi / Fremen) who are wise in the ways of nature on this alien world and speak in a strange language that sounds oddly (Polynesian / Arabic). So you spend all day listening to other people whine about their problems, but as a psychologist a great way to unwind is to hit the town and try to pick up some ladies or gents or both. It’s also an awesome way to give someone more problems to take to a psychologist! Score! Keepin’ the profession alive! Clunkline’s 2 year anniversary and 1,000th article are coming up, and Tanz wants the two to coincide. So, my gift to you is this article to bump the counter that much closer to number 1,000. Merry Christmas, don’t expect me to get you anything else. And I hope you got me something nice and/or expensive. I got you an electric dildo I found in my neighbor’s garbage. The batteries are still inside but I think the acid is leaking. Merry Christmas to you too! -Tanz
Okay, flags of the world, listen up. A nation’s flag is supposed to be its unique identifying symbol, a collection of colors and insignia that define its people, what they stand for, and what they hope for. It is the banner that will brand their greatest accomplishments, it will be hoisted above their competitors on the world stage, and is the oriflamme they rally behind in times of war. Yet so many of y’all are pedestrian, similar, and uninspired. You fly behind the god damned presidents of the world, ya gotta shape up.  This isn’t even the right flag! That’s Liberia’s flag! As if decades of slavery were not enough, now we deface someone else’s flag just because we’re too fucking LAZY to ink the RIGHT NUMBER OF STARS! Worse still, it’s a THROW PILLOW. It’s not even a real pillow! It’s like a big-game hunter tracking down the last Tasmanian tiger and then calling it a dingo when he mounts it to his wall. Patriotic holidays are just commercialist circlejerks. We don’t honor the fallen. We have sales on mattresses. It’s bad enough that Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and Labor Day have been bastardized, but why you gotta exploit the blood of our ancestors to make a $.59 profit on a refrigerator magnet? So, my circadian rhythm was going crazy last night and I had 6 unique dreams, all of them incredibly vivid. I’ll spare you the more epic bits to present this little gem. I’m on an airplane with two other guys and one chick, the chick is telling a story to the guy she’s dating. Oh, and we’re all dressed as pirates. When we set up our new ads, I set them as NSFW. Porn, see, isn’t allowed on our advertising network, and by NSFW, they basically mean, anything your grandma wouldn’t want to see. Clunkline definitely qualifies. But, having tagged ourselves as NSFW, we are now getting ads for dildos and erotica read aloud by a sultry, lusty female. Inspired by our foxy new advertisers, MesmericKiwi, me, and the ironically-named Senator Bongledongle decided that now was the opportune time to ruin our future careers in politics. Just FYI, this is pretty horrible and you should not listen to it. “All right, we just had a wonderful meal courtesy of our challenger. Now it’s time to see if our own Iron Chef College can top him. Chef Kiwi, are you prepared to present your meal?” “Yes, for the first course I’ve prepared oriental flavored Ramen with a side of steamed broccoli.” So, my roommate and I have an unusually large amount of plates for two guys in college thanks to bundled packages from Target. As a result, doing the dishes is never a pressing concern since if we run out of plates, there are always bowls. Run out of those, there are always mugs and teacups. |
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