The following is from a Monty Python sketch called "Doctor Quote". I've enjoyed it for years and it has made me laugh out loud so many times. The pure absurdity is so wonderfully my style of humor. Before this scene begins, we hear Michael Palin narrating his life as if it were a mystery novel, except nothing out of the ordinary happens to him. At the end of the previous sketch, which runs into "Doctor Quote", Michael Palin's character, Mr. Eegis, is ushered out of the house by his wife, played by Terry Jones, as she is preparing breakfast for the doctor, who is inexplicably at their home. The scene begins after Mr. Eegis is shoved out the front door, and Mrs. Eegis continues to talk with the doctor, played by Graham Chapman, who is eating breakfast at their kitchen table.
MRS. EEGIS: (refering to her husband who has just left) Oh, I'm so worried about him, doctor.
DOCTOR: (licking his lips and swallowing a delicious bite of breakfast) Yes. Yes, I know what you mean. I'm afraid he's suffering from what we doctors call whooping cough. That is, the failure of the autonomic nervous section of the brain to deal with the nerve impulses that enable you or I to retain some facts and eliminate others.
MRS. EEGIS: Another dog?
DOCTOR: Uh, not for me, thank you.
MRS. EEGIS: I'll have one last one.
(During the following monologue, we hear the bark of a dog in the background, followed by the shot of a gun, the soft thud of the dead dog, acknowledgment of the kill by MRS. EEGIS, and then the sound of flesh frying in a pan or skillet, presumably with butter or marmelade. That last part was created by my, by the way. I have no way of knowing the correct sauce in which to pan-fry dog.)
DOCTOR: The human brain is like an enormous fish. It's flat and slimy, and has gills through which it can see.
(Gunshot, and thud of dead dog is heard)
MRS. EEGIS: There we are.
(Frying of dog heard)
DOCTOR: Should one of these gills fail to open, the messages transmitted by the lungs don't reach the brain. It's as simple as that.
MRS. EEGIS: Well, I'm a simple soul. I don't understand all that. All I know is he's not the same man as I married.
DOCTOR: Am I the man you married, Mrs. Eegis?
(The DOCTOR playfully approaches MRS. EEGIS, excited about his anticipated sexual encounter with her.)
MRS. EEGIS: Ooh! Now, get away! Ooh, you'll get struck on!
DOCTOR: Come on, come on!
MRS. EEGIS: I can't! I'm eating dog!
DOCTOR: Come on, just a quick examination!
(The tearing of fabric is heard)
MRS. EEGIS: Get off! I'm married! Ooh! Ooh!
MICHAEL PALIN (resuming his mysterious narrator voice joyfully): But Dr. Kwat was a man of quite remarkable medical insight, skill, and determination. And within a few minutes, he had completely removed my wife's knickers!
MRS. EEGIS (scoldingly, to MICHAEL PALIN): Get out, you!
(MICHAEL PALIN is thrown out of the room by his wife, and the door slams shut behind him. More fabric is heard ripping, as the doctor continues his sexual examination of Mrs. Eegis, who is playfully resisting his obviously welcomed advances.)
MRS. EEGIS: Ooh, ooh, Dr. Kwat!
DOCTOR: Put your tongue in my mouth!
MRS. EEGIS: Don't! (As she does)
DOCTOR: Oh come on, I've got your knickers!
MRS. EEGIS: Oh, wow, ooh!!
(Triumphant music plays as the scene fades out)
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Very Proud
My 17 year-old passed his driver's license test yesterday!
I'm very proud of that guy. :)
I'm very proud of that guy. :)
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Flip Master
Why is it that some people have more power over us than others? Or, why do we give some people more power over us than others? What is it that makes us susceptible to some people and immune to others? Why is it that my previous supervisor made it hell for me to come to work every day so much so that I simply couldn't focus at all, while I couldn't seem to allow my friends and family space in my head and heart to help me through those times? I didn't feel like I was pushing them out. But my supervisor definitely had more power in my world. Why was I unable to flip that around and give my friends and family more power in my life over my supervisor? Why are there some people who know exactly where to hook you so that you seem to fall victim to their viciousness every time they are around or say something to you or send you an email?
I want the good to be stronger. And maybe it is. But I want it to make the bad go away. I guess that's probably unrealistic. There will always be bad. How about: I would like to become a Master of the Flip. I know bad things will happen. I know bad people will exist. I know those bad people will make their way into my world at some point and I cannot prevent that. While they are in my life, I want to become a Master of the Flip. I want to have those bad people do whatever it is they're going to do, and then instead of getting furious or emotional, I want to flip it and take myself to a healthy place of peace and calm and non-care regarding the mean people or situation. I wanna flip myself around from anger to peace. A Master of the Flip.
Wish I knew how to do that. Wish there weren't people in my life who had so much control over me. Wish I could allow myself the confidence to take power over my own emotions. The confidence to not allow those people the power I give them. I want to be the Flip Master today. Right now. Immediately.
Especially since I didn't win the $420 million jackpot last night. Motherfucker.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Ultimate Fighting Me
I'm angry all the time.
My wife thinks I'm just processing a lot of repressed emotions.
I think she's probably right.
But I don't like being as angry as I am.
And I don't like being as angry as often as I am.
I would really like to be involved in some kind of Iron Man elimination fight. Something like Wolverine was involved in when we first meet his character at the beginning of the first X-Men movie. A whole bunch of people challenge him by getting in the ring with him. They punch him a little, then he punches them and they're out. And challengers just keep coming. That's what I want. I wanna beat up on everybody. Until I'm beaten and exhausted. Just pound as many people as I can. Physically punish them. Then get punished in return. Then stop.
It would all be gone then.
All punched out of me.
All beaten out of me.
And it would be gone.
And then I could show my bruises to my wife.
And she would swoon.
"You're so tough. Look at the beating you took and you're still walking around."
"Yes, and don't forget how many people I beat the fuck up."
"Oooohhhh," she would swoon more, "I love it when you beat up on people and then say 'fuck'."
"Fuck."
And then we would make out a lot.
And I wouldn't be angry.
Ever again.
My wife thinks I'm just processing a lot of repressed emotions.
I think she's probably right.
But I don't like being as angry as I am.
And I don't like being as angry as often as I am.
I would really like to be involved in some kind of Iron Man elimination fight. Something like Wolverine was involved in when we first meet his character at the beginning of the first X-Men movie. A whole bunch of people challenge him by getting in the ring with him. They punch him a little, then he punches them and they're out. And challengers just keep coming. That's what I want. I wanna beat up on everybody. Until I'm beaten and exhausted. Just pound as many people as I can. Physically punish them. Then get punished in return. Then stop.
It would all be gone then.
All punched out of me.
All beaten out of me.
And it would be gone.
And then I could show my bruises to my wife.
And she would swoon.
"You're so tough. Look at the beating you took and you're still walking around."
"Yes, and don't forget how many people I beat the fuck up."
"Oooohhhh," she would swoon more, "I love it when you beat up on people and then say 'fuck'."
"Fuck."
And then we would make out a lot.
And I wouldn't be angry.
Ever again.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Any Moment Now...
I can very easily see myself slipping quickly into madness to a point where I would be unable to care for my personal needs, and I would need to be taken to a home, heavily medicated, wearing some ugly worn-out blue terry cloth bathrobe and house shoes, being wheeled around in a wheelchair all day to prevent me from falling and hurting myself. And I would frequently kick off my right house shoe. My right foot is too hot, you see. And I would watch Bruce Lee's "The Big Boss" every day multiple times. And I would drool on my terry cloth stomach. And any change in my routine would cause me to bite my cheek so that I could spit blood at anyone. Everyone maybe. Until the turn on "The Big Boss" again. The only thing that soothes my inner psychotic Hulk is "The Big Boss". Cuz I'm that crazy.
Any moment now.
Any moment now.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Yeah...
Last night I got to see Iron Man 3 with my family. We saw it in the theatre. I think the last movie I saw in the theatre was Oblivion, and before that, The Avengers. I don't get to see movies in the theatre as much as I'd like. But last night we went to a theatre with great 7.1 digital surround sound, with bass tones that vibrated my chair and tickled my butt, and I got to choose where to sit (because we were celebrating my birthday), so I got to sit right in the front row. There's no better seat than right down in front. The screen can't get any bigger than that. You're completely surrounded by the movie. As close to living in it as I've ever gotten. And I got to be there with both my boys and my best-friend-wife. And we didn't have to pay for it because we used my birthday gift certificates. And the movie kicked ass. Supremely.
Then I went home, and I got a clog out of my washing machine drain. Nobody thought I could do it. I didn't really know if I could do it. But I did it. With almost no effort. With a plan that I came up with on my own. That my family makes fun of me about from time to time. But it worked this time. Pretty easily. And now my drain is unclogged. And maybe, my washing machine will work okay now, since I fixed the drain tube last weekend and it doesn't leak anymore. Yeah, I did that. Fixed the drain tube. All by my fuckin' self.
And then I got to sleep next to my best-friend-wife. We were both feeling sick, but we both had some skin on each other. And usually that's all that matters-- having a little skin on each other.
And then today, I got promoted. After being denied twice before, I got promoted.
And I might have a better job in line in the future. Which I would very much like to be better than my current job, and would like to take it if it's better than my current job.
And my wife and two boys haven't been bothered by legal people or abusive fathers in almost 24 hours.
Yeah, I'm doing okay today.
Then I went home, and I got a clog out of my washing machine drain. Nobody thought I could do it. I didn't really know if I could do it. But I did it. With almost no effort. With a plan that I came up with on my own. That my family makes fun of me about from time to time. But it worked this time. Pretty easily. And now my drain is unclogged. And maybe, my washing machine will work okay now, since I fixed the drain tube last weekend and it doesn't leak anymore. Yeah, I did that. Fixed the drain tube. All by my fuckin' self.
And then I got to sleep next to my best-friend-wife. We were both feeling sick, but we both had some skin on each other. And usually that's all that matters-- having a little skin on each other.
And then today, I got promoted. After being denied twice before, I got promoted.
And I might have a better job in line in the future. Which I would very much like to be better than my current job, and would like to take it if it's better than my current job.
And my wife and two boys haven't been bothered by legal people or abusive fathers in almost 24 hours.
Yeah, I'm doing okay today.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Hello, This Is God
Hello. This is God speaking. I really just wanted to take a few minutes and clear up a few things.
First off, yes, I exist. Secondly, I am able to make a rock so big even I can't lift it. I know that's a troubling one, but it's true. If you don't believe me, think about Heaven. I created the universe, the Earth, and all the people on it. I created Paradise, but nobody was allowed in. Why? Well, when you find a really great resort, do you go around telling everybody you know about it so that it becomes crowded with tourists, or do you keep it to yourself? I rest my case. So I've got this groovy pad to chill in, you people can't get in, and everything is coolio. But then I start hearing a whole bunch of whining from Hell. "Why didn't you tell us about Heaven, God?" "Why are you keeping it all to yourself??" Well, it's not like I could just open the doors for everybody. It had to be exclusive, otherwise it wouldn't be Paradise, would it? So I made it so that nobody could get in unless my son (which wasn't gonna happen, cuz I ALWAYS wrap up the God Cock), dies on a cross, gets buried for three days, and then rises from the grave (yeah, right), to open up the doors of Heaven for everyone. Nothing I can do about it. So you see, the way into Heaven was so difficult even **I** couldn't open them!
And I wish you guys would stop calling me the God of Love. Seriously, I knocked up some chick on her way to Bethlehem before her husband even had a chance to get in there, let her have the kid without even so much as a Devine Pain Killer or a Holy Epidural, let the other guy raise my kid without so much as one alimony check, then I let his friends spit on him, throw rocks at him, jab spears into him, nail him to a cross until he died, let him get buried in a tomb for three days (you know how hungry you get after a day without lunch? Well, I made him go three days without ANYTHING), and then I made him WALK all the way from Golgotha to Heaven, at which point I said, "yeah, okay, you've done enough. You can go ahead and come in. And you can let in your friends, too." I kinda started Facebook like that. Anyway, that's not really "love", is it? I mean, yeah, if you define love as "really cruel acts of physical brutality that continue over a sustained period of time and don't feel good", I suppose all of that would be considered love. But then, you wouldn't call "sex" "love making", you would call "rape for three days in the butt with a cactus" "love making". And you don't. You don't do that at all. So, really, I'm not the God of Love.
In fact, most of what I do would be classified in the I Don't Care section of life. I don't really love you people. Yeah, I made you. Kinda like you make poo. It just happens. And then you flush it. And then, suddenly, your toilet starts talking to you, calling you Hosanna and shit, and you're like, "Whoa, my shit is talking to me." And then, you know, just for fun, you make one of your turds think he needs to kill his son to prove how much he loves you. And he actually almost does it! I mean, he's got the knife above his head and he's ready to kill his son, and you have to jump in and stop him, cuz he's just a shit and he doesn't know that he's just a shit and you were just joking with him. I mean, you joke around because you never thought your shits would become sentient, let alone start building cities and discovering fire. It's just, you know, not what you would expect. So you walk away from the toilet, because you've got other things to do-- PlayStation, porn, you know, that kind of stuff-- and you come back, and the shit is STILL THERE! Thriving! Singing praises to you! Fuck, I mean, it's interesting, but not something I'm gonna sit around all day long and watch after. That's like what you are to me. I don't care about your prayers, I don't hear them, cuz most of the time you don't say them out loud, I don't let bad things happen to good people because I'm not there most of the time, and I don't have that much invested in you in the first place. How much do you have invested in your shits? Not much, that's right.
Just about everything else, you guys made up on your own. You created the story of Adam and Eve. You made up Noah. Cuz seriously, do you honestly think **I** would be so stupid to create horrible people who don't do what I say TWICE?? If I said "Don't eat the apple," and then you go and eat the apple, I'm not giving you a second chance. And I'm CERTAINLY not gonna go, "Well, dammit, you ate the apple, so now you guys have to go out and fuck a lot." Because unbeknownst to a lot of you so-called "Christians", sex is fun! It feels good! You're so busy hiding in fear from it and not talking about it and being scared that some dude is gonna stick his dick in your butthole that you ignore just how excellent it really is! Why do you always associate goodness with sin? Are you really that fucked up? "This chocolate cake is SINFULLY delicious!" "Don't masturbate or you'll go to hell!" "Bacon isn't kosher!" What is wrong with you people?! Fucking fuck, you're all idiots.
Look, just live your life. Quit being so concerned with how anybody else lives their life, and just life your life. I don't care if you believe in me or not, because I don't really care about you. Honestly, you've given me very little reason to care about you. All the genocide and anger and hate and war and weapons and senseless killings and rape and murder and aggression and jealousies and hostilities and small-pox-infested-blankets you gave to the Native Americans and slavery and sexual oppression and the Crusades and witch hunts and divorce lawyers and step-mothers and Russell Fucking Crowe... there is so very little you have done that would make anyone stick around for longer than it took to shit you out in the first place. There is no Heaven. Just the rest of my bathroom. There is no Hell. Just my disposal. There is no Limbo, Purgatory, saints, or Holy Days. I don't care if you pray, because I'm not listening. In fact, I'm not really God. I'm just a guy with a crapper filled with shit, and the shit wants to think it's something more than it is. You're just shit. And one day, you'll get flushed. As soon as I can get a plumber in here, you'll all just go away. So fucking live your life and shut the fuck up. Make good use of the time you've got and quit worrying about everybody else.
First off, yes, I exist. Secondly, I am able to make a rock so big even I can't lift it. I know that's a troubling one, but it's true. If you don't believe me, think about Heaven. I created the universe, the Earth, and all the people on it. I created Paradise, but nobody was allowed in. Why? Well, when you find a really great resort, do you go around telling everybody you know about it so that it becomes crowded with tourists, or do you keep it to yourself? I rest my case. So I've got this groovy pad to chill in, you people can't get in, and everything is coolio. But then I start hearing a whole bunch of whining from Hell. "Why didn't you tell us about Heaven, God?" "Why are you keeping it all to yourself??" Well, it's not like I could just open the doors for everybody. It had to be exclusive, otherwise it wouldn't be Paradise, would it? So I made it so that nobody could get in unless my son (which wasn't gonna happen, cuz I ALWAYS wrap up the God Cock), dies on a cross, gets buried for three days, and then rises from the grave (yeah, right), to open up the doors of Heaven for everyone. Nothing I can do about it. So you see, the way into Heaven was so difficult even **I** couldn't open them!
And I wish you guys would stop calling me the God of Love. Seriously, I knocked up some chick on her way to Bethlehem before her husband even had a chance to get in there, let her have the kid without even so much as a Devine Pain Killer or a Holy Epidural, let the other guy raise my kid without so much as one alimony check, then I let his friends spit on him, throw rocks at him, jab spears into him, nail him to a cross until he died, let him get buried in a tomb for three days (you know how hungry you get after a day without lunch? Well, I made him go three days without ANYTHING), and then I made him WALK all the way from Golgotha to Heaven, at which point I said, "yeah, okay, you've done enough. You can go ahead and come in. And you can let in your friends, too." I kinda started Facebook like that. Anyway, that's not really "love", is it? I mean, yeah, if you define love as "really cruel acts of physical brutality that continue over a sustained period of time and don't feel good", I suppose all of that would be considered love. But then, you wouldn't call "sex" "love making", you would call "rape for three days in the butt with a cactus" "love making". And you don't. You don't do that at all. So, really, I'm not the God of Love.
In fact, most of what I do would be classified in the I Don't Care section of life. I don't really love you people. Yeah, I made you. Kinda like you make poo. It just happens. And then you flush it. And then, suddenly, your toilet starts talking to you, calling you Hosanna and shit, and you're like, "Whoa, my shit is talking to me." And then, you know, just for fun, you make one of your turds think he needs to kill his son to prove how much he loves you. And he actually almost does it! I mean, he's got the knife above his head and he's ready to kill his son, and you have to jump in and stop him, cuz he's just a shit and he doesn't know that he's just a shit and you were just joking with him. I mean, you joke around because you never thought your shits would become sentient, let alone start building cities and discovering fire. It's just, you know, not what you would expect. So you walk away from the toilet, because you've got other things to do-- PlayStation, porn, you know, that kind of stuff-- and you come back, and the shit is STILL THERE! Thriving! Singing praises to you! Fuck, I mean, it's interesting, but not something I'm gonna sit around all day long and watch after. That's like what you are to me. I don't care about your prayers, I don't hear them, cuz most of the time you don't say them out loud, I don't let bad things happen to good people because I'm not there most of the time, and I don't have that much invested in you in the first place. How much do you have invested in your shits? Not much, that's right.
Just about everything else, you guys made up on your own. You created the story of Adam and Eve. You made up Noah. Cuz seriously, do you honestly think **I** would be so stupid to create horrible people who don't do what I say TWICE?? If I said "Don't eat the apple," and then you go and eat the apple, I'm not giving you a second chance. And I'm CERTAINLY not gonna go, "Well, dammit, you ate the apple, so now you guys have to go out and fuck a lot." Because unbeknownst to a lot of you so-called "Christians", sex is fun! It feels good! You're so busy hiding in fear from it and not talking about it and being scared that some dude is gonna stick his dick in your butthole that you ignore just how excellent it really is! Why do you always associate goodness with sin? Are you really that fucked up? "This chocolate cake is SINFULLY delicious!" "Don't masturbate or you'll go to hell!" "Bacon isn't kosher!" What is wrong with you people?! Fucking fuck, you're all idiots.
Look, just live your life. Quit being so concerned with how anybody else lives their life, and just life your life. I don't care if you believe in me or not, because I don't really care about you. Honestly, you've given me very little reason to care about you. All the genocide and anger and hate and war and weapons and senseless killings and rape and murder and aggression and jealousies and hostilities and small-pox-infested-blankets you gave to the Native Americans and slavery and sexual oppression and the Crusades and witch hunts and divorce lawyers and step-mothers and Russell Fucking Crowe... there is so very little you have done that would make anyone stick around for longer than it took to shit you out in the first place. There is no Heaven. Just the rest of my bathroom. There is no Hell. Just my disposal. There is no Limbo, Purgatory, saints, or Holy Days. I don't care if you pray, because I'm not listening. In fact, I'm not really God. I'm just a guy with a crapper filled with shit, and the shit wants to think it's something more than it is. You're just shit. And one day, you'll get flushed. As soon as I can get a plumber in here, you'll all just go away. So fucking live your life and shut the fuck up. Make good use of the time you've got and quit worrying about everybody else.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)