This past weekend, I attempted to get back in touch with a high school classmate of mine. I noticed that next to his mugshot on the sex offender database, there were no ads. Nothing, anywhere on the page. I was more outraged by this omission than by the crime he “allegedly” committed.
No marketing opportunity should go to waste! So, I hired a polling firm and did the field work to determine what ads would see a lot of traffic there. Here are my recommendations about what to advertise to readers of sex offender databases.
White vans
The always-in-style shaggin’ wagon is inexplicably popular with this demographic. The white paint job symbolizes innocence; the tinted windows, its loss.
“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.”
Since Clunkline has just entered its new glorious auspicious second phase of righteous harmony, known to non-party-members as Clunkline 2.0, we as the Clunkline staff feel it’s necessary at this juncture to issue a review of the past two years of Clunkline history.
Translated from the original German, these images and excerpts are from what is considered the founding text of aerodrome design at a time when heavier than air flight was less than a decade old. Del Mutel’s designs were mostly visions of structures to be built in a European future where cities had expanded so vastly that large, area-swallowing tracts of land for airports would be unavailable.
“Yup, it’s gone now,” said former investment banker Leah Jones on Thursday. “They up and collided those hadrons, and now we’re all dead. I kept telling them this would happen, and did they listen? Evidently not.”
I have a bed. It’s sitting in the back of the somewhat derelict van that is parked in front of my house. I have actively chosen not to put it together since the end of July, because I, through my own sloth, accidentally discovered the greatest sleep-apparatus short of a hammock. Mattress on the floor is divine for the following reasons.
1: Endless nightstand. Do you really want to fuck around with a two-by-one-and-a-half-foot space for your alarm clock, cellphone, and everything else you’re way too lazy to put where it belongs? Stop, then! Your nightstand just became the floor within arm’s reach of your mattress. You have been liberated.
This was performed by Scotch ‘n’ Soda Theatre. It won me and Chicken Chow Fun a nice shiny “Best Original Play” award, but I think it was in large part thanks to the performances of the cast (which included two other Clunkliners) and work of the director. Underground Man got nominated for Best Male Lead for his role, which is pretty hard to do since this festival always takes place after the nomination period is basically over.
Technically, it also won “Best Post-show Music” but I don’t think that counts since they made the award up just to give it to us.
Hold the Elevator was written, rehearsed, and performed in the space of 24 hours.
I tagged it as a film because we don’t have a category for plays.
Ladies, gentlemen, and members of Tardigrade species for whom gender has no meaning… I welcome you to the twilight of humanity. For centuries, these worthless fools have debated the numbers of angels dancing on the heads of pins, while they should have been counting the numbers of us who were on those pins, killing those angels.
The Potty Pyramid of Djoser, where the extant copies were found. At the time of its construction, it was the tallest building in the world.
In Ancient Greece, few dramas were more tense than this exchange of sharp words and swords between a pair of rival playwrights. Their story remained lost to history until the relevant documents were plumbed out of the depths of an Egyptian portopotty. It is supposed that they were deposited there after being discarded when an Achaemenid used them as first reading material, and then toilet paper.
So I’ve been sharing my room with this guy for a few months. Wanna know how that went? Dope as shit, man, dope as shit. Seriously, this guy is balls awesome, I’d definitely take his cock in my mouth in some mad respect fellatio. Seriously, if he was a chick, I’d superman that ho. Here’s why he’s the shit.
So for the last couple of months, I’ve had to share my room with another human being. Now, you may be wondering how that was. I’ll give you a hint: if it were great it would not be funny.
Monday:
Today started off pretty well. I arrived before the break room was out of fresh coffee, and the manager even recognized my good work at the staff meeting. Then at some point after lunch we had the gremlin infestation. It’s hard to tell exactly when it started, or how they got in the building, but I have a funny feeling it has something to do with that mysterious old Chinese guy who set up shop right next to our offices.
Yes, my dear loyal audience, it is nom de pomme, back from his tour of Scandinavia, the low countries, southern Austria, and eastern Australia with a new edition of Guide for your listening (read: reading) pleasure. In this edition, we look at the elusive meanings to some of the world’s most enigmatic and popular songs.
