Rufus Silas Wally Review

How to Make an Idea

2010-12-03T09:01:00.000-08:00

Making an idea isn’t as difficult as your mother says it is. In fact, by following a few easy steps you can overcome your fear of idea creation and make an idea of your very own.

Why come up with an idea? Well, ideas are a great way to get people to do things. Whether you want to make your “target” audience buy a new and improved baby formula or drive that gas guzzling lemon off the lot -- heck, even even if you just want to come up with the “Big Idea” -- an idea can help you get there fast.

Here's how you do it.

1. Collect the raw material.

Despite popular belief, you can’t make an idea out of thin air. An idea is the result of a complex series of chemical reactions occurring between actual, physical objects. If you want to make a real idea, you’ll need to start by obtaining only the best ingredients. There are several methods from which you can choose. For the best results, try a combination of all three.

Hunting and gathering. Yes it is old fashioned, but it works amazingly. Don’t forget to bring a high-powered automatic weapon and a basket. You will be on the prowl for anything from bison and large bucks to walnuts and cranberries. When hunting, don’t forget to cover yourself in urine and wait for your prey to come to you.

Slash and burn. Even if you don’t know what this is, do it any way. If you do it right, you’ll probably procure some interesting foodstuffs. But don’t fret if you just end up destroying everything in your path and moving on.

Shop. Go to your favorite supermarket and feed your wildest desires. Scour the brightly lighted aisles and freezers and fill your cart to the brim. We don’t recommend buying locally or in season, since this can take a toll on your overhead wallet (if you don’t have one these, prayer may help). Try to limit any stealing to a few grapes, for management at most market places tends to be cranky and have long arms that they may flail in moments of intense anger. If there are no stores nearby, use the FreshDirect or PeaPod. Just make sure to order in advance, and don’t forget to tip the delivery men at least a few bucks.

2. Serve and eat.

You don’t want to do this alone because it is incredibly pathetic. Instead, host a tea party. It is important, however, to invite only your imaginary friends. Real friends are hard to come by, often steal recipes and eventually return to their own homes. You want those with whom you share your spoils to return to the inside of your head where they can work together to bring the idea-making process to life. Use disposable paper plates to reduce cleaning time and water waste. It is best to serve buffet style so your guests can mix and match to facilitate a diversity of raw material consumption. And don’t forget the garnish. Presentation is everything.

3. Digest.

After you have finished your meal and all the guests have returned to the comfort of their home, take some time for yourself. You deserve it. Go to a movie alone. Take a walk by yourself. Watch hours upon hours of Internet porn. Cry in the shower. Whatever you do, give yourself time to digest. You must keep yourself from thinking about all the weird and terrible things you did to get to this point and just enjoy yourself -- it is integral to successful idea creation.

4. Poop.

That’s right, poop. Don't push, just let the idea come out on it's own. And it will. If you have followed steps 1 through 3 properly, there will be plenty coming down the pike and the idea will just ease right out on its own. Remember, it’s important not to force idea creation so as to avoid anal tearing.

5. Show it to the world.

Now it’s time to get out of your own head. At this stage, the idea (poop) has been created. But, chances are, it isn't very good. In fact, it probably stinks. This is normal, and the only way to improve it is to show it to others. Bring it to work, to family gatherings, on dates. Fling it at those who matter to you most -- really toss it around -- and take note of their criticisms. Once they see what you’ve been working on all this time, the people in your life will surely forgive your absenteeism and provide constructive feedback that should help finalize your work. If they don’t react in a positive manner, don’t take it to heart. Just smile and nod, place your idea in your suitcase, take what you’ve learned about yourself and the world to your house and get back to work.

Daily Inspirational #32.25: Identity Theft is a Not a Choice, It's a Dance Craze, and You're the Feet

2010-10-03T21:28:00.000-07:00

What's the latest news? What's the hot craze? It's not ringtones or transplants or a new band or even fun. No: Everyone is trying to steal your identity. Everyone. It's amazing. It's unfuckingbelievable. And anyone who says otherwise? They're just trying to steal your identity. They'll butter you up until you'll entrust your identity to them for safekeeping and protection from the people trying to steal your identity. God you're an idiot. Can't you see what's happening here? From coast to coast, old and young alike, from Main Street to Wall Street, everyone wants to ambush, kidnap and ransom your personal information. "I can pick most identities with a credit card," says one criminal. "I know when your identity is home, and when it's not," says another. But it's not all criminals, mind you. Fact: Paris Hilton recently wore a cheap facsimile of your identity on the red carpet. Myth: It dazzled in the sun like a thousand miniature camera flashes. Fact: it was a thousand miniature camera flashes, each one desperately trying to get an accidental glimpse of your social security number. Fact: this has been going on for years, centuries even, not just with the Hiltons and facts and myths, but everyone and everything, since long before you were born, starting initially as a kind of wild and faithful anticipation in the form of religious beliefs. Christianity? Judaism? It's all just one long queue, not to get into heaven, but into your identity. And now that you're finally here and actually exist, after all those centuries of not even knowing what the hell was going on, people are lining up to get your identity as if Jesus moved into the Apple Store and joined the Beatles starring Shia Labeouf's lost potential. This shit (your identity) is so hot and so hip that it entirely erases the new black, and in fact removes all old and new black alike from existence, leaving just a pristine white light shining down on your identity, highlighting everything any one needs to know to become you in paper form, which is the best and most badass form you've ever taken. Paper-you is like the you you've always wanted to be, all inky and pulpy with clear margins and brackets and immortality, but in the end it's not what you'll be at all, but instead what everyone else will finally become when you inevitably trip up and let them take your identity like you definitely will because you're a self destructive and self loathing idiot that wants to lose.

Unless you take our advice, of course.

What's our advice? We're glad you asked. It's passwords. You need the perfect password and maybe even a few, but start with one. Immediately get rid of your old passwords. Bring them to the nearest recycling plant and hide them in old bottles, thus rendering your old passwords nonexistent because recycling is a myth like the war in Afghanistan. Okay, now that you're free and clear, make a new password. It should be at least eight characters long and include a childhood memory that you've always wanted to forget but can't, like that time you had a new memory and tried to forget it but couldn't. Remember that? Of course you do. Also: Try to spell everything incorrectly and use numbers that look like letters and letters that look like numbers, or at least pretend that you're doing as much. Really pretend, hard, or at least pretend that you are, hard. Why? Because security measures are 10% encryption and 90% attitude. Now put your birthday at the end of it all and that should do it. Except for one thing:

you.

That's right, you knew it was coming. You're trying to steal your identity too. What, did you think you were exempt because you're better than everyone else? Get off your high horse and shoot it because that's lame, son. Did you really think that you, of all people, don't need to steal your identity? Ha! Rather, isn't it you more than anyone else that actually needs your identity? The rest of us are just out here having fun, trying out a new craze, but for you this is serious. If you don't steal your identity every morning, who will? You don't want to find out, but you have to. Why? Because it will probably be you, and if not, then whoever it is will be you soon enough because they just stole your identity. So, the one person who shouldn't know your password, more so than anyone else, is you, because really you're the only one trying to steal it, at least hypothetically. Everyone else in the world is a matchstick with a potential energy level of you.

You're going to need a password that even you don't know.

But that's not all. Here is the big leap we need you to take today. You need to create a password that not only can you never know, but one that only everyone else will ever know, everyone but you, forever. Why? Because letting other people have things is the only way to truly own things? No, shut up. Listen: you need to think of this inevitable theft not as a terrible crime, but a grand opportunity to find out what you really look like, to find out what you really want to buy on all those credit cards, where you want to go, who you want to talk to. You can be you vicariously, a million times over, forever. It's probably going to be a lot better than having to do it all yourself. Think of it like outsourcing to India, but instead of a call center, it's your dreams and your money and defining characteristics. You'll probably sound kind of funny, like when you hear yourself on voice mail, but keep listening and pass it on.

And that's it!. You aren't you at all, but something being passed from one thief to the next. A dollar isn't the paper it's written on, it's the things it's spent on and stolen from. Likewise, you aren't you or a social security number or anything else, but the path that they take. Think of it as a long game of telephone in which the only way you can play is to be the misheard phrase itself, passed from one ear to the next, until you finally emerge totally transformed and misunderstood in a call center in India.

It's going to be great and in fact already is.

Daily Inspirational #567890: History, Again?

2010-07-21T07:50:00.000-07:00

History does not repeat itself. Instead, it is someone else, as a sort of historical proxy, that repeats history, roughshod, (though calling this vicarious maneuver 'repetion' is actually overly generous -- it's more like imitation, approximation -- or even flailing attempts at meek intimidation).

That is, history does not play prankster by placing in the old time-road the same rock for people to trip on over and over again, but rather people tend to buy particular shoes and then to throw themselves at the ground while loudly proclaiming the rock's preternatural ability to trip us, secretly hoping that we will read their loud declaration as a cry for help, which it is, and that we will then see through to their intentions and begin aptly to blame the construction of the shoe, all rubbery and lacy and white, and that somehow this will, as a matter of course, so long as the right phone calls are made and letters sent, turn into a deluge of free things and coupons for the tripped, when in fact it was not history, the rock or the shoe at all that caused the fall, or even the person or the desire for coupons and great deals, but something else entirely -- yes, that's right, the future vainly trying to get a grip on the present. That is, the sense of history repeating itself is actual the stuttering of the future, never getting started, never uttering that first sentence.

And what, exactly, is it that the future can't any more than even begin to say?

Who cares? You idiot, we have to stop this thing! Its stutters cause bumps in the time-road, thwarting progress and assembly lines and everything in between. The arrhythmic jumps and brief glances of what might come next make everyone uncomfortable, uneasy and anxious about it. The future constantly moves it's hands around in attempts to clarify what it hasn't yet said, but all it does in the end or the beginning or the not-yet is jostle the frame we haven't hung but desperately want to.

That is, in the house of life, the future's obnoxious speech impediment is making it more difficult to really decorate this place.

Speech pathologists have little to offer because the future is too young to work with. Rather than feeling disconcerted, they suggest, we should be impressed that a zero year old can almost speak at all. If we keep waiting, they say, it will no doubt bloom into a great orator.

Well guess what, speech pathologists? After a few billion years of waiting, it's time to change the status quo. It's time to take control. Your 'expertise' amounts to just more of the same, the failed speech-pathology-as-usual rhetoric, and frankly, I think I speak for all of us, except you of course, when I say that we're tired of it!

Obviously, aborting the future would make it shutup already, but it would also kill it. The difficulties of finding a place to dispose of an everything-yet-to-come fetus is daunting and should be avoided. Where and when would you put that thing?

Rather, what we have to do is coax it into singing, a well known avoidance technique for stutterers. And we can't just send it sheet music in the mail or get it vocal lessons. No, the best way for us to do this is in fact for all of us to just start singing here and now, even louder than the future's stuttering.

If it's a good enough song and we sing it long enough, the future is bound to join in due to shear embarrassment.

Evidence of Effectiveness

2010-07-07T21:35:00.000-07:00

No one ever asks, “Hey, does Helpseminar really work? Can I really trust and use the materials and tools I find here?”

And they don't ask for good reason! Why?

Because if you have to ask, you’ll never know – this is a truism written in the sacred by-laws that you committed to the first time you looked at pornography on the internet, by-laws born out of a natural connection or land-bridge uniting your self and everything else through a long list of electron devices, pottery forms and quilting patterns handed down for generations. These hand-me-down gramma afghans can in fact be considered the plush and comforting bedrock of the internet as we know it today, which is not at all. And this obscene relationship between your body, your grandmother and the internet is an oral contract spoken not with tongues, though that would be nice, but instead in hand gestures, gestures which, though no mouths are involved, are still binding nonetheless, and in fact are even more binding than if spoken – because binding the hands is more powerful than binding a mouth. Try it sometime.

That isn’t a suggestion but a warning.

The fact of the matter is, though, that you didn’t ask anything at all, not even for a handjob, not because you are weak, which you are, but mostly because of our repeated attempts to bind your mouth, along with the resulting loss of motor control and general sense of malaise, so you in fact can know, and actually now are required to know, not because you deserve to or should know, but more as a due punishment for not asking to know in the first place.

We’ve agreed to not tie up your hands, or any of your appendages, as a gesture of trust and sincerity, but we do intend to bind your brain – with knowledge, though in this case we admit that knowledge comes in many forms, up to and including knives and hammers and scythes, but certainly not limited to conventional weapons or international treaties on torture.

Imagine yourself as Odysseus tied to the mast as he listens to the Sirens’ song, which is in fact the internet or your grandmother’s blankie. In this case and in all cases, obviously, your body is the boat, the same as it has always been since you first floated in a womby sea, funded mostly by an unseen hedge fund, and imagine too that the knowledge you are about to receive, or at least the terrible blow to the head and face, is the rope safely tying you to mast, or in this case bludgeoning you, however you want to look at it, it's up to you, though honestly you won't be able to see anything much longer.

Without this valuable information or waterboarding as we've come to call it, not out of humor but accuracy, you undoubtedly would be cut off from the mast, a life line which, as an extension of the boat is a part of your body, because your body is a boat, we can’t repeat that enough, and the mast therefore is in fact your spine, atop which is your head, which is the sail that wants to set you loose, as if you were the sail and it were Odysseus, floating bodilessly into the open mouths of the Sirens, the source of the song which is the internet and your-hand-me-down blankets, a source which must therefore in fact be your grandmother, which in this case is all of the things you fear and have yet to fear, which includes everything, but mostly financial hardship and some minor food groups, though in reality it is really just the womb that wombed your womb, or the boat that bore your boat, or the body that sewed the internet into the telephone poles, a sense of space and time that you think won’t fit into your schedule or be measurable on your bathroom scale but in fact will be and has always been, just check your calendar, subtract the weight of everything from your own weight, and divide by the amount of time you've just wasted.

This isn’t a law or an agreement but an inevitability covered in blood and patchworks of down feathers, distinguishable in the same way that wet socks are harder to put on than dry ones. That is, definitively. That is, you are definitively a weak analogy drawn from an ancient myth dressed up to be something its not, or at least your body is and most of your grandmother, not to mention your mother, and we are therefore going to have to force you to let us soak a rag with information, stuff it into your mouth and then dunk your head in so much data that you think you are learning, though really you aren’t, you’re just suffering, or at least trying to put on wet socks.

So, now you know that you, more than anyone else in the world, are our evidence of effectiveness. We couldn't have done it without you, and wouldn't care to either. Now, just sit still and wait for trial to begin. The evidence keeps piling in through a series of easy to follow steps.

Book Review: "Put on Your Crown" by Queen Latifah

2010-06-15T12:02:00.000-07:00

Queen Latifah’s “Put on Your Crown” is no joke.

For example, it starts with sage advice from Winnie the Pooh: “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” Obviously, no one is trying to be funny here, but instead deadly serious.

The gravity of Mr. Pooh’s conjecture, that people are stronger and smarter and braver than they believe, is a paradoxical idea not lost on the CIA and Military Intelligence. Rather, they are like ants in a sugar pile with this stuff. They have taken a keen interest in the idea that once you believe the Mr. Pooh’s claims, you enter a kind of Latifah Vortex in which you now believe that you are in fact smarter, braver, and stronger than you think, which is now exactly what you do think, so therefore you are immediately stronger than being stronger than being stronger than being braver than being smarter than being more than being forever, an idea not unlike the logic of known terrorists, in that they are also working with explosive materials, outward expansion of the human body, like balloons that don’t float.

Working in tandem, then, Mr. Pooh and Queen Latifah have unlocked a kind of limitless energy gauge, or LEG, from which to stand on. What might Iran or Al-Qaeda do with the Queen’s LEGs? The possibilities are endless and horrifying. The government has generated reports and 3d renderings that display her LEGs draped across the entire Middle East in a fire storm of Strength, Bravery and Intelligence that should make everyone feel stupid, weak, and cowardly. That is, the last thing we need those people over there to get their hands on is virtue, let alone a limitless supply! Virtue in the Middle East, perceived or objective, will literally cripple our military might. That is, it will be like them taking our LEGs and leaving us stumped with no way to ambulate.

And it doesn’t stop there.

We have to ask ourselves, “Is this a coincidence? Did Queen Latifah only incidentally team up with a small unassuming bear in order to create a limitless power source drawn from the essence of positive thinking? Is this not the logical, and therefore deliberate, conclusion of the best selling self-help book, The Secret, in that Put on Your Crown is a utilitarian extension of the manifestation of positive intention with unbounded energy bursting from its LEGs?” Whew, that’s a mouthful.

Listen: what we’re getting at here is that, "Put on Your Crown" very well might be a bomb that will explode not in real life, but in words. That’s right, it blows up in your mouth, not in your hands.

Is this a reasonable suspicion? No, we suspect that all suspicions are unreasonable because they are based on the idea of not knowing, though we can't truly know this, but not knowing is exactly the weapon we need against Latifah’s monstrous LEGs.

Here is an excerpt from Chapter One:

It was seven a.m., I'd been up since five a.m. for a yoga class and a vegan breakfast, and my first thought when I started that trail was, "We're going over that?!" This all started early in September 2001, when I booked myself into a hiking boot camp in Calabasas, California, because I wanted to quit smoking. I picked up the habit when I was fourteen and managed to quit a few times, but smoking has a tendency to creep back into my life, especially when I'm working or stressing. A week in a healthy environment, doing nothing but hiking and yoga, was my way of separating myself from cigarettes and going cold turkey.
This retreat was just a house in the middle of the woods. There were no stores around. There were no phones, except for a pay phone on the wall in case of an emergency. We all slept under the same roof and shared meals at a communal table. It was a place where people came to get back to some healthy living, lose weight, get in touch with nature, whatever it was. I just needed to be in an environment that was free of distractions, where I could focus on something besides my crazy, hectic lifestyle.

Does this not sound a little bit too convenient?

She expects us to believe that during September of 2001, she was hiding out in a “boot camp,” working with alternative religious practices, trying to shirk off her American way of life, dining at communal (ist) tables, somewhere in the mountains like a scoundrel – and that none of this has anything to do with the destruction of the World Trade Center? Come on, Queen, get serious.

It is so obvious, in fact, given these facts, that she was involved in it, that one can only suspect that she wants us to think she planned 9/11 with Winnie the Pooh, Christopher Robin, Eyore, Owl and Rabbit while cavorting in the 100 acre woods, in order to push us off the scent of something far more heinous.

But what could be more heinous?

Exactly, now you’re thinking. It doesn’t get any worse than that. 9/11 is the worst thing that ever happened in the entire universe, everyone knows that, so much so that other bad things are sucked into it like an enormous black hole. And that’s exactly what Latifah and the Pooh are getting at. We are Braver, Stonger, and Smarter than we think.

The only way to overcome the gravitational pull of the 9/11 bomb – not the actually hitting of the buildings, but the mental one that careened outward and started pulling in the entire solar system – is to feed it an absurd firestorm of positive thinking. We are Braver, Stronger, Smarter than we think, forever. It doesn’t make any sense, but keep saying it, louder and louder and louder until they hear us in Iran, until it’s so loud that it echoes back and we can think that they are saying the same thing back to us even though we’re wrong and despite the fact that they already were and we’re just covering that up with our obnoxious yelling. We have to unleash the Power of Positive thinking on the Middle East before they can do it to us. We might just be able to blow up our mouths, minds and lives in a way that reverses the polarity of 9/11.

That’s what this book is trying to make you think, but it’s wrong.

Why?

Because 9/11 sucked in all the bad things and made them go away.

If we follow the Queen’s advice and let her LEGs release positive energy, it will be like that scene in Ghostbusters 1 when they let out all the ghosts. That is, there will be an implied sex scene signified by the streaming release of pink energy beams and all the bad things will come back.

That’s what makes Queen Latifah’s “Put on Your Crown” the most important self-help book ever written. Because either way, we’re fucked. Now, put on your crown!

Book Review: "Put on Your Crown" by Queen Latifah

2010-06-14T14:20:00.000-07:00

Queen Latifah is a beacon of hope for not only women, but also animals and minerals. Objects of all shapes and sizes and utility can admire her as a positive role model because she is more than human, and by that of course I mean less than human, while at the same time being human. Pizza boxes and lamps of the world, take note: your not being human has never been more human. "Put On Your Crown," a book by Queen Latifah is not merely a self help book, but a full bodied meal for the mind of the commonplace object and a true experience to boot.

The Queen has done so much in her short time in the universe (just under a paltry few million years) -- a large majority of which I only came to know upon reading her new tome. She may very well be an Oscar nominated actress, a Grammy winner, a model and a business person, but that's the least of it: she is also, more importantly, the complete and entire nation and history of Bolivia. This is what I didn't know about her and am glad to have found out. It's inspiring, to say the least, to know that history is alive today as much as it was yesterday.

That said, this book isn't about how you can become a Queen or a country, per se, but it is a book about how Queen Latifah became Bolivia and the secret Queen of herself. She gives out some very good advice to her readers, and really shares about her time as the Incan Empire and when she succombed to the Conquitadors. Obviously, this is painful stuff for her. Reading this book is like having a conversation with Queen Latifah and with Bolivia at the same time. Because, it turns out, if you talk to either of them, you are actually talking to both of them! Because they are the same! She really makes it feel like she is talking directly to you and not to herself -- not something easily accomplished for a nation of millions and a history of genocide and subjugation.

Throughout "Put On Your Crown," Queen Latifah shares her struggles with things like weight, success, extreme pain, rupies, belly aches, how her mother helped the students she taught, acolytes, nameless slaves, the way she let miners die inside of her, dealing with rampant destruction of rain forest, a long list of revolutions, and her twisted affair with Peru. As it turns out, she actually used to be Peru, too! That was a long time ago, but still, I am impressed. I am not even Caracas, let alone Bolivia AND Peru.

One of the anecdotes I really enjoyed was about the loss of her brother. He died in a motorcycle accident while being Europe and she was overcome with grief and financial burdens. But she was able to lift herself up by her boot straps which she borrowed from China. Though it was by no means easy, she shows how she did it through the use of diagrams and children. She was even able to ride her motorcycle again too. This is amazing, not because Queen Latifah rides a motorcycle, but because Bolivia does. Had I known about this, I probably would have visited a long, long time ago. Motorcycles are like crystals when it comes to homeopathy. That is, they lift the spirit and renew the glands and give out great coupons. Next time you see one, talk to a motorcycle, you won't be disappointed. Rather, you will be appointed Queen of the coupons. You idiot, that's obviously not true. You won't be the queen of anything, you'll just get coupons.

Another thing that really makes me love Queen Latifah even more is the fact that her best friend is her mom, too. I'm also very close with her mom. I consider her my best friend too. I don't really know her, but her mom teaches art at a high school where the students have really hard lives and sometimes I sit outside eating ice cream after ice cream. The Queen tells how mom would force kids to write positive things about themselves at the beginning of the year and tell them to post it on their mirror in the bathroom to read while brushing their teeth and crying. This might even be the point of the whole book. That Bolivia has to do this but doesn't have a mirror and maybe we could fund the purchase of one large enough to see all of the Queen at once. I don't know: but think about this frail mother woman, alone amongst a throng of ne'er-do-well kids, and then imagine her squatting on the hardwood floors and giving birth to an entire country, with or without a mirror. I was so inspired, I actually did this too, first with a mirror and then without. I prefer without. I really admire her mom for taking such care of her students, so much that she became impregnated by the Earth. It is really teachers like this that make a difference in the world, specifically by adding the nation of Bolivia to it.

I highly recommend Queen Latifah, Bolivia, Peru, and her mother and the children. Also, I hate to ruin the ending, but it turns out that Camden, NJ is the crown. How the Queen suggests you get it on top of your head is riveting and I refuse to spoil it (it involves a healthy dose of cardio and a pinch of self-loathing).

If you repeat the following words twelve times, the book will appear in your spam folder tomorrow evening at eight:

This innocent and beautiful Queen,
Who owes her name to Bolivar,
Is the happy homeland where men
Enjoy the benefits of good fortune and peace.
For the sons of the great teacher
Have sworn, thousands upon thousands of times,
While brushing thier teeth, reading Post-It notes,
To die rather than see the country's
Majestic Latifah humiliated.

Daily Inspiration# 57: Self-Replicating Proteins? Murder!!?!

2010-06-05T01:24:00.000-07:00

Today, feast on Angela Lansbury.

Daily Inspiration #5600111: Breathing Techniques

2010-06-03T16:19:00.000-07:00

Everyone knows, or thinks they know (but do they?), that air is important. Some people think it's about giving oxygen to the blood and the brain and muscles and all that nonsense, or that it's about establishing some type of equilibrium between what is inside and outside of you, but really none of these things are important at all, or at least only important in the way that things like the ground and the sky and the sun are important -- that is, only marginally. And, margins, like butter, cause cancer, so avoid these things like the plague, or at least like butter. Which is a type of plague, only yellow.

Instead, the importance of air is more about appropriation. Getting. Taking. Having. People need an appropriate amount of appropriation every day, somewhere around 2 to 3,000. It's written in The Bible. People need to take, get, and have because taking, getting and having is a type of giving in which what you give is gift wrapped in absence and negative space, which is a new type of yes in a world of no, or at least a new type of cheese in a world of meat, or, if not that, then a new type of blank in a world of blank -- which is an even trade, so don't feel guilty. Shooting blanks never hurt anyone, and neither will sucking them in. It's all the same. Inhale, exhale: who cares when it comes to blank.

Yes, so: pick whatever you want and replace it with whatever you want. This is breathing. Take oxygen and give back CO2. It's not respiration or magic. No, don't be an idiot: it's stealing! That's right, you are a thief and you were born that way, screaming and sucking at other people's belongings. It's cool. You popped into the world like a masked man performing a home invasion, yelling obscenities and grabbing everything you could get your lungs on. And that's okay! We're all in it together. We are all at once performing the biggest art heist in history, stealing the golden chalice of nature's plenty, one drop at a time. We grab what we want and slip in a counterfeit. It feels good and tastes fresh!

But it's not good enough.

No, today, take a big breath. Take the biggest one you've ever taken. Suck in the nearest piece of furniture. Suck in a building. And then spew out something different. Make a change in the world. No, better yet: be the change you want to see in the world. That is, suck in buildings and then become whatever you think that building should be. It's easy, just shake and add water. Just blank and blank blank. Just heat to a temperate political climate and address the nation from your cell phone. Blank your face and open a blank account in the new blank.

Keep in mind, though, that everything has to stay balanced. Your blank account is a ledger equipped with scales that measure to the farthest decimal point, a placeholder that exists over 3,000 miles from your mouth. And the accountants at this blank have all the time in the world and more frequent flier miles than you can shake a stick at. And you can shake sticks at nigh on infinity, so that should give you a rough estimate of about exactly how much they are able to fly for free and at any time. Really, these blank tellers are a force to be reckoned with, like pressure or gravity. So, under their watch, you can't forget to put a blank right back where you took blank from, unless you want to go to white collar prison, which you don't, admit it. Now, it doesn't matter what it is that you replace it with, just do it. Wigs, paper, friends, guilt, love, hookers, PT Barnum, knobs. Just blank it in there. Otherwise, the pressure outside will be far too great or weak for the pressure inside, or both. That is, you will either implode or explode or merely just plode. Don't tell me you didn't already know this intuitively. It's common knowledge and written everywhere, from children's faces to dogs' whimpers: ploding is inevitable, like blankruptcy, but it can be avoided indefinitely if you are willing to write checks that your mouth can't cash.

Now: start breathing. Breathe big. Breathe _____ .

______ _______.

Daily Inspiration #560099: Just Fucking Kill Yourself

2010-05-20T22:40:00.000-07:00

Sure, teleportation of data between entangled particles might be possible across vast distances, rendering old signal connections obsolete, the way dolphins make porpoises not matter, but we have to accept the fact that at the very same time, and perhaps for the very same reason, one twin and her twin can simultaneously go blind from an identical mastoid degeneration of the face and its muscles, without prior notice and it's all a part of the contract you didn't need to sign because you signed another one that said you signed them all.

Whats the connection here?

Well, don't you get it?

The connection is that we don't need connections anymore. We've entered the stage in history when nothing is connected to anything at all, but it all still works because who gives a shit, and that's the final connection!

We have established a more perfect union by disentangling everything -- by entangling some bullshit particles and letting two teenage girls go blind hypothetically!

Yes! God rears his ugly head and swooshes his woolly mane through your breakfast cereal and says, "Look at those cheerios! Are they not separate? They are! Are they not each their own hollow oats? They are! Like you? Yes! And you? No! Yes, and they are also one, a whole connected by nothing! Fantastic! That is, that whole bowl is a whole hole filled with whole holes making a holey Holy whole, merry fucking Christmas and to all a good night!"

Thanks God, you might say, but now my milk is all hairy from your beard, and hey, speaking of milk, doesn't all this dairy connect my oats in a way?

"Who the fuck are you goddamn kidding? Shut your fucking mouth," God will say, "Are you trying to poke a fucking hole in my hole theory? This only strengthens my resolve. Now comb the tufts of wisdom from my beard and see if you can lick off a little dignity."

Great!

Daily Inspirational #5509412: Have a Hot God Eating Contest in Dog's Kingdom

2009-06-17T13:39:00.000-07:00

Now's the time. “What's time?” you say. “What the hell do you mean by time?”

Well, imagine a non-spatial continuum that is measured in terms of events which succeed one another from the past through present to future.

Now imagine a specific point on that non-spatial continuum.

Got it? Great, we’re almost done.

Now, think of this special point as – paradoxically – filled with space. Finally, envision that from this “space” flies an “event” composed of many moist brown edible tubes that have been mechanically recovered from a divine meat slurry. Sealed in air-tight packaging for freshness, these objects go by many names – but only one word describes their extreme precooked rubbery essence: Hot Dog.

That’s right, you silly sausages, it’s time to mustard up the courage and participate in God's Hot Dog Eating Contest – it's the most important event planned for this entire year.

Even if you don’t win, you will most certainly relish the experience, because when it comes to eating hot dogs, there’s no losing – only winning. Winning and throwing up.

Please don’t even think about making excuses. If you’re behind on your work – ketchup. Or simply abandon whatever it is you are doing, for there is nothing as important as this "event" in your entire "life." It's time to get your mind out of the gutter and into God's ball park, Frank.

Look, when George Washington Carver secured patent #1,243,855 for a milk substitute made from peanuts and soybeans, he wasn’t thinking about completing some menial task to satisfy an unrealistic deadline. He was sharp-shooting for immortality – pure and simple.

So, go out and get your share of microwavable immortality at the great Hot Dog Eating Contest in the sky – or else.

We’ll see you there.

Notice: if you’re pregnant, always heat your hot dogs up to 160-70 degrees to avoid Listeriosis. Always protect your unborn children, no matter how ugly they might grow up to be.

Fun Fact: The earliest usage of "hot dog" in clear reference to sausage can be found in the September 28, 1893 edition of The Knoxville Journal:
It was so cool last night that the appearance of overcoats was common, and stoves and grates were again brought into comfortable use. Even the weinerwurst men began preparing to get the "hot dogs" ready for sale Saturday night.

Why The Things You Use Everyday Might Really Kill You, Seriously, No joke #1: The Spoked Wheel That Turns Paper Through The Dot Matrix Printer

2009-06-17T09:51:00.000-07:00

REMEMBER!

You used to use it all the time -- or someone in your family did, at least. That old printer was your friend. Grumpy at times, but always there. Now, it's been a while since you used the thing, hasn't it? And where is it anyway? Maybe it's in the attic? Maybe the basement? Or even the local landfill? Or were you nice enough to donate it to the poor or elderly -- who have long since given up trying to eat it for sustenance or medication and sent it to the attic, basement or landfill?

WHAT HAPPENS IN THE BASEMENT
If your dot matrix printer is sitting in the basement now, alongside all of the remnants of your forgotten ambitions -- the poop or mucous left behind by your dreams -- then the spoked wheel already knows all it needs to know about you. It knows what you dedicated your life to, what you gave up friendships and lovers for, and what you finally abandoned under the pressure of your own stupid unbreakable habits and flaws. It knows who you wish you were and why you aren't that person.

How long will it be before that spoked wheel hops from its axle, rolls up the cracks in the concrete walls, breaks out the tiny storm window, heads toward the center of town, buys a top hat and cane and returns donning his new duds with a business card to match? How long is it before that? You have no idea, but you have to wonder. To do anything else is to bring it on even faster. So sit in the basement staring at the spoked wheel wondering when it will finally take what it knows about who you are not and uses it in order to trick you, in order to enact an elaborate and intricate charade meant to humiliate, rob and eventually kill you with the only bait you cannot resist -- your pride. You and the spoked wheel know that your pride is a wiggly little worm that's second only to you in cowardice, and it will stick it on a long hook of all the attempts you've made to become a better person until it has drawn you into the big fish's mouth. Did you know that fish don't know when to stop eating? In the big fish's case, this trait is only magnified by its size -- which is unimaginable -- and it will no doubt eat you until the spoked wheel says stop.

Now, ask yourself whether spoked wheels speak.

WHAT HAPPENS IN THE ATTIC

If your dot matrix printer is resting in the attic, somehow mixed in with the things that make up the routine of your life -- Easter decorations, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Passover, Ramadan, July 4th, Maco Shark -- then the spoked wheel has already inured itself into the cycle. Maybe you didn't notice it hanging on the tree last year? Maybe you didn't see it basting the turkey? Did you see it in the creamy part of the chocolate egg? Did you see it burst into colorful lights in the sky? Did you see it swimming in the shallow waters feeding on smaller fish? No, of course you didn't. Up the stairs and down the stairs, that's all you know. Carry the next day down, the last day up. Use and store, store and use. This is the motion of your life -- when you move at all. Most of the time you sit still at the table planning for the next time you will enter the attic. The spoked wheel moves freely around your house while you are transfixed by these repetitive thoughts. It would like to pay its own bills, cook its own food, but it is trapped in the stupid routine you've gotten yourself into. The attic is a nexus for the monotony and its gravity is profound. Yet the spoked wheel knows that the cycle is on its side and in its favor. By remaining stationary, an incidental and unused item in a sea of fluctuating junk, it can absorb the force of time, float along the tide of all the dumb things you do until it finally gathers enough momentum to just start spinning up there, really spinning, until all of the things you do happen faster and faster and the walls of your house expand outward and everything you do and own gains so much mass as to defy the everyday laws you are used to and you are finally forced to admit after all that you are exploding not receding.

WHAT HAPPENS IN THE LANDFILL

It's simple: the spoked wheel detaches from the dot matrix printer, smashes the machine to pieces, wears the plastic shards like hair or a headdress and scuttles into the world. It enters the job market. It pairs with another wheel. Together they shove their spokes into the holes of some massive and unfurling future and drag it forward, letting some larger apparatus make marks all over it. When the thing is done, if it can ever really finish, the spoked wheels sigh and think the stupid little dots, whether blessings or faults, have something, anything, to do with them.

Daily Inspiration # O - How Your Body is A Scantron and Why it Doesn't Matter.

2009-06-13T22:01:00.000-07:00

Let’s get this straight, okay? Those tiny blue-rimmed openings

that you fill with grey spurts of #2 pencil lead--

THEY ARE not BUBBLES…

Listen, Bubbles Are:

A. Ephemeral spheres with intricately refracted rainbows skimming the surface emerging from the tired beak of a 150 year old sea turtle expelling its final breathe…
B. An accurate description of your mesmerizing, corn-fed ass and perfect, saline-injected knockers.
C. The name of that dog that everyone's best friend's dad felated that one time in that story they keep repeating over and over trying to get laughs.
D. All of the go fuck yourself.

Yeah that's right! Those things you fill in over and over again hoping really to fill yourself with the approval of everyone who's ever doubted you… they are in fact none of the ABOVE!!! Go fuck yourself.

They are merely ANSWER HOLES… and they have more in common with the bony pockets that struggle to contain your cancerous bone marrow than they do with the end result of a little kid blowing air through a soap solution draped over a fluorescent-pink, asshole-like, ring.

If bubbles had answers attached to them don't you think deep sea divers would be clamoring to reach the surface at faster and more dangerous rates, eventually obtaining total body omniscience as the answer's precipitate into lethal yet illuminating embolisms along the arterial pathways of their everything.

Well, it might not be the correct answer, but

that's the spirit!

This is not a test, sister. Stop living your life like the fucking SATs where there's a penalty for answering wrong, but no penalty for not answering at all!

No, studying won't help, just get the fuck out there and start filling in every hole you can get your hands on and/or create in hope of eventually hitting some correct answers.

Start with Grandma.

Business Scents: Entry Level Positions Are Never Enough

2009-06-07T12:30:00.000-07:00

There is no need to elucidate that pun or lewd innuendo inherent to the phrase "entry level position." That in order to gain such elementary status, the first foothold on the corporate ladder, requires you to get into a position which would enable easy entry should be, by now at least, common sense and household knowledge, much the same as we understand innately how to butter bread or poach an egg, as if from birth we emerged with knives and smears and boiling wisps of white on our fingertips. And that competitive anal sex as a job asset is therefore tantamount to such breakfast trivialities only furthers the argument that entry level positions and their requisite maneuvers are humdrum and rather boring.

Rather, the truly wayward professional should not bother his/herself with the lallygagging associated with these old fashioned and outmoded fetish-to-the-top approaches -- if one is truly ambitious, one should be more concerned with gaining a removal or extraction level position, such that not only will you be entered but that also something shall be taken from within you. This type of gift giving may seem new now, but it is actually in the ancient tradition of making homages and offerings that our ancestors often reveled in. We should be so lucky as to carry on this bygone tradition by opening our orifices to the lowest level project managers and letting them pull from our colons meager trinkets and stuffed curiosities as if plucking winnings from a coin-operated claw game. And that's the rub, isn't it? There's little in this world that separates our bodies or our lives from coin-operated claw games. Shove something in there and see what comes out -- the sooner you realize that this is the natural and honest state of things, the sooner you will have a slim shot of maybe ascending one pay step.

Be creative: as you offer yourself to superiors, think of new and innovative ways to become open. What other holes do you have? What other holes can you make? If you sense that the higher-ups are having trouble removing a prize from you, don't be afraid to shimmy or shake a bit to jostle something out -- it will only flatter and enamor them to you -- and as you lay there prostrate in the extraction level position waiting for the big one, ignore all the others around you in the arcade. Their successes or failures in their own positions are of no consequence to you. If you see them bleeding or being broken down for parts, know that this is rare and probably incidental.

Daily Inspiration 954: Diamonds in the Rough

2009-05-10T12:55:00.000-07:00

The silk of a spider's web is ten thousand times stronger than the toughest steel, and when piled together, taller than ten Empire State Buildings.

So, today, which one will you be? Steel and skyscrapers? Or wispy mucous?

Look in the mirror and say: I am the spit of an insect and I have become a long line of superlatives. Say: the analogies that describe my power are unrivaled and can topple governments. Trying to list what makes me great causes birth defects and palsies.

Say: What I believe about myself is stronger than the toughest steel, and when piled together, taller than ten Empire State Buildings, and geometrically aligned to the stock markets and seashells.

Daily Inspiration #88 - A color, a flower, a chopping block.

2009-05-02T18:23:00.001-07:00

Listen! Look! Feel! yourself as nothing else but a pair of GREY pinking shears.

Scalloping the very air around you, you have become a fascinating tool in your mother’s overpriced arts and crafts wicker-basket. But, as you click and snip, remember that you are more than just a tool, and your mother is more than just a mother, and wicker is more than just the slender flexible branches or twigs (especially of willow or some canes) used for wickerwork , or the hard fibrous lignified substance under the bark of trees, or the characteristic sound made by a horse— you are the you-tool-device that “cuts ornamental openings in the body portion of fabrics [of existence],” mitigating the loose threads, your special properties have kept the entire quilt from coming undone.

Now quick! Wash the milk, mustard, and semen stains off it before your mother notices!

Daily Inspirational #2.034: How To Imagine Yourself

2008-10-08T15:20:00.000-07:00

Today, picture yourself as horse meat. Imagine that you are flesh connected to bone via a variety of tissues. Imagine that your friends are other muscles.

Imagine your life bounding across a rocky plain. Imagine it astride other lives. Your horse-life is galloping and you are in part making it happen by pulling a bone or two this way and that.

Now picture the meat-you-horsey growing technical apparatuses. Imagine cables with wi-fi capabilities giving new information to the plants and the rocks.

Your life runs around, with you as a meager part of it, in search of sustenance while it electronically communicates with things that don't matter to you!

The moral for today is that you cannot be a horse or any part of it.
Lucky numbers: 13, 45.67777, 0.99999....(1), 0.you.not.being.a.horse.at.all.loser

Neigh!

Daily Inspirational #2,033: 5 Amazing Ways to Start Your Day With Confidence

2008-10-05T13:08:00.000-07:00

1. Eat a healthy breakfast

Often, the one difference between a good day and all out war is a few eggs and toast. Poland skipped breakfast and Hitler invaded. 9/11 skipped breakfast and flew planes into itself. So, when you get up, find some eggs. Find some toast. Cook the eggs. Cook the toast. Eat the eggs. Eat the toast. You will have done your part in saving our nation and economy. Bonus points for grapefruit -- which builds orphanages. 10,000 life points!

2. Mirror pep talk

Try standing in front of the mirror and telling it how much you like it. For goodness sake, your mirror is always honest with you, so tell it how much you appreciate that already, and then for the rest of the day, you'll feel like you've done a good thing for someone, namely a glass picture of yourself. Happy mirrors are known to bring good luck, too. While you are gone it might even clean your room and think about telling you secrets. Very happy mirrors follow you wherever you go and make magic happen, like tax deductions. The first fifteen people to do this every morning get six coupons redeemable somewhere you can never find! Feel the potential!

3. Kill your parents

Shoot them in the head and take their powers, which are many. Their powers need to be scraped off the wall. This should get you through the day, at least until lunch time. Look for the secret decoder ring.

4. Establish a form of mental domination over someone weaker than you

Spend each morning slowly breaking someone down until they give up completely. You will feel as if you are working toward a larger goal -- the pay off to which is especially rewarding. Also, in the end, there will be one less person to compete against -- which brings you one step closer to winning. Tip: Children are easy and can be broken in batches, but they have a low "power-pulp" (flesh) yield..

5. Get into the the freezer, naked

And never come out. Free shipping.

5. Don't get up at all

There are two ways to do this. First, stay in bed and pretend you are dead while your loved ones scream and cry over your catatonic body.

Second, stay laying down but do get out of bed: then wiggle out of the house, slithering around on the ground. This will give you a new perspective on things. 1/2 off!

5. Ride a lawnmower around the football field

Seriously, this feels great. Don't mow anything though. This is about you, not grass. While supplies last! Yes!

Good morning and good luck.

Daily Inspirational #2,032: Bee Like a Honeycomb

2008-10-02T16:02:00.000-07:00

It has been said that a bees' nest is more alive than the animals that make it their home. In fact, this has been said so loud that it could be heard all the way from Madagascar to another part of Madagascar. In as much as volume determines truth, this bee thing is therefore pretty true and you should heed its warning.

Yes, it is a warning, albeit an inspiring warning. If you heed hard enough, you will become so forewarned that you will surge with inspiration. So, let's heed. Together.

Imagine your world is an enormous urban nest. Imagine that at night you return to a small cubby amongst other cubbies in order to sleep. Imagine that in the morning, you wake up to throw yourself hard at the wall of the impossibly inane. After a day of wall slamming, someone gives you or the person next to you a smile and you return home to your cubby. Something sticky is everywhere.

Now imagine that the nest, the cubbies and the walls are alive and you are not. Imagine this because it is true, at least in this hypothetical scenario, which if you think about it isn't hypothetical at all but actually your life, hypothetically.

You are a blood vessel in a large, comby organ. No, you are a slightly irritated calcium deposit loosed into the honey stream for a brief moment in the sun, though there is no sun, it's extremely dark and very sticky. The walls and holes keep on living just as they like while you slave away to maintain them in perfect order.

And wait -- what's that? The stickiness is you?

Well, guess what? It's time to become the nest. It's time to be the honey comb. It's time to rent out your body and let people live in it. It's time to open a business on your thigh, to sell produce from your love handles. Redevelop your flanks with ambitious projects, invite diversity to your toes with a variety of national parades.

The only way to truly live is to let people live all over you.

And you know what else? We've said this all so loudly that it's so true you can't change it. We hired a machine to bellow it all so loudly that the sound bounced back and destroyed the machine so nothing can be louder and nothing will ever be true again.

So, crack open a vein and let us in, let us all in. We're moving deep inside you to let you live.

You'll love it. And remember, this offer won't last long, so heed hard before it's too late.

Daily Inspirational #921: Just Give Up

2008-05-06T18:06:00.000-07:00

It only gets worse. How do we know? Despite your arrogant ignorance (and ignorant arrogance), other people have lived your subpar life many times over, often as a punishment or egocentric display of martyrdom, but most commonly as an unfortunate mistake while misreading the map on the road to some better life. And guess what? All the surveys and interviews and exit polls from your existence show that the moment you're living right now? That's the point at which it never gets better, but only worse, steadily and assuredly. Yes, the moment you realized that your life is used, abused, misbegotten, and ultimately headed downhill is the greatest moment of your life. So, give up now and fill out this survey, sign the contract, and give us everything.

Why Eating Might Kill You

2008-04-23T08:53:00.000-07:00

If you're like the rest of us, sometimes you eat. And just like us, you wish you could stop because you are literally dripping with the physical remnants of your impulsive behavior. And god, how many times have you resolved to give up food on New Years Eve?

110 times -- we've been counting.

It's time to face facts, though -- you aren't giving up food. Few know this, but studies have shown that food may be necessary for a healthy life style. Yet, other studies show that food is the number one cause of death in all of the world and throughout all of history. It's also the reason you are so fat and stupid which you are admit it. These facts are hard to understand and you've spent your life trying not to solve the equation, but guess what? You're over 100 years old and you aren't getting any younger, so it's time to accept the reality of it all.

You are an eating monster and everyone is disgusted by you.

So what then? You can't give up food, it's impossible -- and you can't live without eating, studies have shown -- so what the hell? I mean, really, what the hell.

Is every human doomed at birth to die of either starvation or eating related diseases?

Until today, the answer to that question would have been yes. Today, however, that answer is a strong maybe because of the BCCWE diet.

This is the only diet that guarantees the possibility of living forever.

BCCWE stands for:

Always Bread
Never Cheese
Sometimes Corn
Usually Water
and a pinch of no Exceptions except sometimes, to taste!

Here's a quick explanation of it all:

Always Bread

Bread is never bad for you and if you eat it all the time everyday you will be showered with the love and praise and success that you've always dreamed of and never deserved. Seriously, try it. The Atkins diet is actually an extension of the Eugenics program intended to keep minorities away from the precious commodity of bread which as we all know is the flesh of Christ -- refined.

Never Cheese

Cheese is a sexually transmitted disease. No joke. Sure it tastes great, but guess what? It's just a whipped and churned and aged STD and it will strangle you in your sleep and, like all STDs, will steal your identity and empty your bank accounts while telling your mother lies about you over coffee on Sunday while you have to run errands because you're the responsible one and why doesn't anyone notice that but whatever you're not going to say anything. Avoid it at all costs.

Sometimes Corn

If you are in tune with rightness and goodness (and you better be -- otherwise, get out!), you will know when it is time to eat corn. You should get a kind of rattling feeling in your kneecaps and a series of pulleys should yank you in the direction of Kansas. Otherwise, avoid corn because it supports child labor.

Usually Water

Drink water non stop, but then other times don't. If you follow this exactly, you will be good. If not, it's going to be bad. Maybe.

A pinch of no Exceptions except sometimes, to taste!

Don't break these rules if you want to live, unless you need to, then it's okay. You can write in to the central credit union explaining the mitigating circumstances and have your case looked at by a 3rd party -- if it goes well, your exceptions will not lead to immediate annihilation but instead to a huge celebration at the local Rec Center for discovering a great opportunity for all of us to finally indulge in what we have so long denied ourselves because of stupid regulations! Thanks. Otherwise, they'll fucking kill you because you can't stay in line and are deliberately thwarting authority.

So guess what? Eating is ridiculous and insane but that's the way the world works and you have to do it, so do it right! Use the BCCWE diet or rot in hell you fat whore.

PS: I don't love you any more and I'm keeping the kids.

Business Scent$ #2: Why Murder is Moral

2008-04-17T16:36:00.000-07:00

Recognize the gap

Few businesses ever consider the question of whether it is okay to kill another human being. "What does murder have to do with my business?" you might ask. The answer of course, is "Nothing" -- and that's exactly your problem.

Listen, the world's most successful governments have all grappled with this issue, so why can't you? Why are you wasting time with all those meetings and copy machines -- when you could be stocking your store houses with sickles and guns?

"But I've got a company to run!" you might say, but let's be honest here: no you don't. This is all just hypothetical and you should be grateful I even pretend to believe you might have a company.

So, anyway, this company you don't run? All of its problems stem from one central notion. It boils down to this: the reason your company hasn't been successful while great nations and governments have is because they're killing people and you are not.

Did you know?

People don't just die. No, they are killed. In reality or the "real-life" world, people are immortal. That's a fact. The only way to die is to be murdered. This has been known for centuries but kept under wraps by an enormous group of people who have asked to remain anonymous.

This anonymous group -- mainly financial investors working for Coca-Cola, a small start-up out of Nigeria -- have fashioned a number of effective diseases and ailments. "Old age" is the one they are most proud of and amused by --they can't seem to utter it without just barely stifling a giggle.

These guys have a fantastic racket going that even the smartest and most progressive businesses are now taking note of. When you kill, stocks go up.

The Humanitarian Angle: People don't want to live forever, anyway

If people wanted to live forever, they would, pure and simple.

People are in control of their own lives! This fact has been peer reviewed and vetted by the Union. Unless you want a legal battle with the Union, you better believe people can do whatever they want.

And if they really wanted to live forever so badly, wouldn't they have done it by now? As a matter of fact, no one has ever lived forever. So, clearly no one wants to do this shit.

That's why it's almost charitable when you knock some one's head in with a stick or rock -- you're giving them exactly what they've always wanted but just haven't gotten around to getting yet.

So, the bottom line? Murder is tax deductible.

One man's death...

...is another man's avocado salad. That's right -- if prepared correctly, murder is edible and delicious.

And since murder is an idea, it never goes bad! And you can never run out -- you can just keep eating it and eating and eating it.

And guess what? Company food needs can be subsidized by government grants, so the cost of murder stays low -- and mouthwatering.

Mother Nature prefers it

Across the globe, murder hatcheries are thriving. These death farms allow families of murders to roam freely in open terrain -- terrain where reformed game hunters come from all around to finally do some hunting that doesn't hurt anyone except the people being murdered, but they were going to be murdered anyway -- because they were grown for that express purpose!

Murdering on purpose gives murder a purpose!

But is it moral?

Obviously, yes, but who cares? Forget morality for a second. Instead, I'd like you to think about murder. Picture it in your mind. Say the words, "It is good for my company," and believe them, really, really believe them as hard as you can.

Actually, you don't have to believe anything if you don't want to -- just tell people that you do. That's good enough.

They'll be dead soon anyway.

Business Scents #1: Starting Your Own Company

2008-04-13T13:17:00.000-07:00

You Want To Be Your Own Boss

This is true of all humans. It's genetic. Ironically, even though you may want to be him, you also hate your boss. It at first appears to not make any sense, but since it is also genetic that you hate yourself, this seemingly paradoxical idea is actually a foregone conclusion: you want to be your boss because it's more efficient. You will only have to hate one person, yourself -- rather than two -- in order to get the same amount accomplished. You will end up with a surplus of hate that can be used elsewhere, giving you an edge on competitors.

Take this noble desire to maximize your hate's potential -- and commence with the following steps in order to successfully launch your own business.

1. Get a "Partner"

Yes, any good business has a partner. Partners help accomplish tasks and achieve company goals. You often hear people saying, "I made partner!" with glee. What most people don't know, though, is that partner is another word for patsy. No one wants to be called patsy, though, and you wouldn't be able to hire anyone for that position. People have pride and integrity and you need to respect that, so when you coerce and manipulate a close business associate into lending you money and giving you free intellectual property, call him or her "partner." This will make it seem as if things are great for them too and not just you.

Maintaining a good "seemingness" is the key to a strong business.

2. Establish Your Seeming

One important thing you need to know is that your company doesn't need to do anything. It is a well known fact that most new businesses fail, but very few people are aware that the failures are due in large part to one fatal mistake: these companies try to actually do, sell, make, or supply something. It is a myth that successful companies do anything at all, and it is one that you need to let go of as soon as possible if you want any hope of making this work.

So, forget what your business will or will not actually do, sit down with a pen and paper, and write out a bunch of things that you think sound fantastic. Anything will do. Here is an example: "Bringing together community and family in order to ease the lives of millions." Wouldn't that be nice? Absolutely! Write it down -- that's a freebie. This list will constitute how your business appears to others.

A great way to do this, actually, is simply to "get together" with your partner (you don't really need to be there, but just say "get together") and have him or her make this list for you. Make sure you remind your partner that it was your idea to have him or her come up with all the ideas -- otherwise your partner might start to think they are doing all the work (which they are, if you are doing this right, but keep that on the DL).

Now, once your partner is finished doing your work, walk around telling everyone that the world is a wonderful place but wouldn't it be better if we had all the things on this list? Then give them your card and get out of there before they start asking questions. You might not even know what's on the list (you don't need to because none of it is going to happen), so if people start asking questions, the seemingness of it all might begin to deteriorate, and that's when you will have to prove something, and then before you know it you'll need to "produce results" and then your company is yesterday's bad joke.

So, remember, 1) the world is great, but it can be better if we do some things that your company is aligned with (but not actually committed to do), and 3) give out your card and start running.

3. Tell People You Are Making Money

Companies don't make money. That's a fact. What differentiates a successful company from an unsuccessful company is how well they can convince others that they are making money.

But doesn't Coca-Cola make a lot of money? And what about Google and Microsoft? Aren't they making a lot of money?

The fact that you might believe they are making a lot of money is only more proof of how good these companies are at convincing people that they are making a lot of money. If it is hard to let go of this belief, it is because these companies are true mavericks.

Convincing people starts at home. That is, you need to believe before anyone else that you are making a lot of money.

It's simple: Set up a bank account. Get ledgers. Write lots of numbers on pads. Use calculators. Tally things up. Make a habit of going to the bank and casually checking things out. Look at stock options with calm curiosity.

Share these numbers with others and tell them things are going just great. You may go into enormous debt, but keep telling people that you are successful, much more than them.

This is the definition of success.

4. Get a Job To Support Yourself

The toughest part of having your own business and being your own boss is having to find a job to support yourself while you live out this ridiculous fantasy. Check the local classifieds for listings. If you get a good job, you can really finance some great seemingness spectacles for your business. The better you do in your job, the better chance you will have of not needing to work anymore. So keep working, and work hard! If you are lucky, you may be able to work your way up to partner.

Congratulations!

Daily Inspirational #913: Today, Sit Down Triumphantly

2008-04-08T09:39:00.000-07:00

You have fantastic legs. The knees, the ankles, the calves, and the ham strings -- behold the glory of your bipedal standing.

Everyday the world tells you to stand up for your rights, to rise up for what you believe and to stand in defiance of those who would oppose you. And you know what, you may or may not be doing a great job! I don't know the first thing about you. Maybe you're a coward and maybe you're a hero -- in either event, sit down and shut up already. It's all the same because you're being used.

That's right -- you need to act is if you don't have a leg to stand on. Sure, you've got your principles and your values, but isn't it time you stopped using those as crutches to lift yourself up? Look at yourself in the mirror and tell me whether or not you could even come close to standing up without your precious "values."

That's not who you are. No, you are not values or principles -- that's stupid -- you are a spineless lump who just so happens to have two glorious legs and a set of meaningless belief crutches that make you feel like a man. Throw them all aside and plant your ass in a chair to find out what you're really made of.

Doesn't that feel good?

No? Great, then you're doing it right.

You should feel like you can't move -- because you can't. You're stuck where you are. Anything else is a lie because real people can't move.

If you sit long enough, your values and principles will get restless, antsy, and depressed. They will tire of your little chair and your small world view. "Let's go buddy," they'll say, "Let's make change, let's get out there and do it!" Don't listen. Do not be a vehicle for these beliefs and values which are not you, which only want to joyride around in your body under noble but false pretenses.

If a man came and said to you, "Hey, can I sit on your back while you run around town for me so I can yell stupid things at other people?" -- would you do it? No, that's dumb.

The same applies with your values and beliefs. They want a free ride. They want you to stand up and get going -- but for what? For you? No, sir, for themselves. Your altruism and your charity -- these beliefs and values are as selfish as the next guy. They are out for themselves and themselves only, common ne'erdowells and thugs.

The only way to fight them is to stay seated. Oh, you're going to see the ugly side of it, too. Charity will pinch and prod you. Altruism and empathy will bite your neck and slap and spit in your face. Love and kindness and justice will pull your hair and stub your toes.

Stick it out. Stay seated.

Don't move. Be yourself. Be meat. Be bones. Be skin and hair. Be slow decay. Be pumped blood. Be perspiration, flatulence, acid reflux and indigestion. Be hunger, death, and rigor mortise.

All your values, beliefs, and principles will eventually leave in search of a new patsy to manipulate, leaving you behind to defiantly sit in triumph having defeated those who would control you.

Relax and enjoy yourself and your four fantastic wooden legs. You are finally free.

Why You Might Kill You

2008-04-06T19:11:00.000-07:00

Normally, you would be the last thing you'd suspect to be implicated in your killing, but as it turns out, studies show that you might be more likely to harm or even kill you than older studies would have had you believe. So, it looks as if you have one more thing to fear besides fear itself, and that's you.

Now, there are two scenarios in which you might kill you: 1. You kills you, and the reverse, 2. You kills you.

1. You kills you

You might think of you as basically you and not much else, but the fact of the matter is that you is just as much not you as it is you. That is, you can do whatever you wants, regardless of what you want. You doesn't have the same taste as you or the same desires and you acts accordingly. That is, when you find yourself doing something, it's because you wanted to whether you wanted to or not. You gets what you wants, no matter how much you protest or regret it.

You might get fed up with what you is doing against your will. If you does enough things that don't represent what you believe about who you are, you might decide to off the impostor who is making a mockery of you. In order to stop you from making you do things you don't want, you will get rid of you so you are finally free to do what you want.

2. You kills you

Of course, you might think of yourself as the real you, and of the other you as really just some other you, but in reality the other you thinks the same of you. And you is getting fed up with your arrogance. You thinks you should step aside and let you run the show for once. You is tired of playing second fiddle to you. You wants to be in the spotlight. You wants to emerge from behind you and eclipse you.

If you don't watch out and let you get a little action in edgewise, you is going to get rid of you so that only you is left without you to get in the way anymore. You has had enough of you and believes you can get along without you.

-------

The bottom line is, there's two of you and one of you is bound to get fed up with you. Whether it's you or you, it'll still be you who gets it in the end.

So, do yourself a favor and get rid of that you you've got laying around. It's a danger to you.

Daily Inspirational #912: Making the Delivery Inside You

2008-01-18T09:11:00.000-08:00

Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God?

-1 Corinthians 6:19 (NIV)

That's right. Your body is a temple, which is really just an archaic word for "living room" and there is spirit housed inside of you, and you have received yourself from God.

As many of you know, modern living rooms, which are crammed full of power-draining entertainment systems and complex gadgets, can wreak hell on the electric bill. As a result, you may need to stay physically fit to maintain a high level of kinetic energy that can be harnessed inside your temple and turned into electrical power. Otherwise, you'll have to pay for it with money -- at least until the delivery has been made -- and that can get pretty pricey.

What delivery? Let me explain. By "Living room" what I really mean is "parcel" or "mail-to-be-delivered." You see, we live in an age of implied meaning. Whereas in the old days, we had a bad habit of choosing ill-fitting words for most things, with modern technology and the power of prayer, we can now simply imply meaning by saying just about anything we want. With God's help, everything has the potential to be understood.

So, here's the deal. It's true that the spirit has been delivered to you and that it lives in a living room inside you. It's also true that at this point in the game, the spirit is not a parcel or any kind of mail to be delivered, despite the fact that you have received it into your home, which is you. Hey, at least it's not your mother-in-law!

Once inside the living room inside you, the spirit will spend most of his time watching cable television, listening to the stereo in Dolby surround sound, relaxing with high-powered electrical massagers while blow drying his hair, microwaving meals, and keeping the electrically-powered robot-maid in constant rotation between the massive refrigerator inside you and the couch where the spirit sits (this means that the appliance's door will often be left open and that the light, which is not an energy saver, will click on more often. You might consider reminding the spirit inside you that the refrigerator is not a television and should therefore have a closed door, but that would simply not be true).

Something to keep in mind: you are an obese and lazy man who has a penchant for irresponsibility. You sit around all day eating microwaved food and getting electric massages. As you consider what I am saying, though you are not a very intelligent person, you may begin to both grope for and also notice certain meaningful similarities between yourself and the spirit inside you who you claim to have received from God. You may ask yourself: Is this you? Well, it's about time you understand that it is.

Soon you will have recognized that the spirit inside of you that you swear to God has been delivered to you by God in a time of desolation, failure and loneliness -- by God -- is you. It is here that the spirit, which is you, and which has been rumored to have been delivered to you, not as mail but as something else, has at last made a profound and moving transformation. It has become mail, the greatest and most important parcel in your entire life.

Being nothing more than a reflection of what's inside of you, and therefore having been transformed into your truest form, you realize that you are finally nothing more than a parcel with a parcel inside you. In fact, you are so excited, you pack your bags, tack a note of apology for the electric company, who's bill you haven't paid in nearly a year, onto yourself and set yourself out on the front stoop to be delivered to the only person who could possibly care: You.

So, remember: try to stay physically fit (or just use the "tack a note and run" suggestion per above) and use the extra cash you save on electricity to tip your mailman on his birthday -- which some say is Christmas, much in the same way that some say Jesus Christ is God -- lest he deliver you, God help us, to somebody else.

Daily Inspiration # 122: Why You Aren't In Love and How To Get In It (and it in you)

2008-01-07T19:30:00.000-08:00

It's an all too common scenario: you are alone and have been alone for a long time. Worst of all, you feel as if you will always be alone, and everyone around you seems to confirm this by being with everyone else in the world but you. It's like some terrible game of musical chairs where you can't even hear the goddamn music.

Sure, people notice you. But when they do? They tell you "your table for one is ready, sir/madam." That's right: to everyone else, you are practically genderless. Even you can hardly remember if you are a man or a woman -- because both concepts have nearly lost their meaning.

It comes down to this: nobody loves you and you don't love them either. Who are these people and why should you love them anyway?

If this is how you feel, then congratulations: you have just taken the first step to being in love and, more importantly, having love in you.

The next step is a little more complicated. You need to get someone into your bed, and you have to get them to sleep there. There are numerous books available on this topic -- pick one to your liking and give it a go. They all work. In fact, just buy a book on the subject, hand it to a stranger on the street and they will probably come home and sleep in your bed.

But, contrary to popular belief, 90% of the time this isn't love. Experts will tell you all sorts of things, but most of what they tell you about love is a lie. Here are the top 3 lies love "experts" love to say:

1. Love is a bond between two people. FALSE
2. Love is a deeply emotional experience: FALSE
3. Love can be engendered through intimacy, both sexual and otherwise. FALSE

NO: Love is not a bond, it is not emotional, and it is not intimate or sexual. Rather, love is a nutritional parasite that can only be eaten at night while a stranger is sleeping.

That's right: the one true thing the experts say is: There is love inside all of us. Yes, there is, and it's breeding and multiplying and feeding off of your body.

Love lays it's eggs all around us and gets under our fingernails. At night, the little things come out of our anuses and secrete an ooze that makes you itch. When you scratch near your ass, the eggs are implanted there, hatch, and then crawl in to live and feed.

So, here is what you do: while the stranger you picked up off the street sleeps, keep yourself awake with fresh brewed coffee or caffeine pills. Once the stranger is snoring soundly, shine a flashlight on their anus and wait for love to come marching out. When you see it, snatch it up and gobble it down.

You will feel a high like that of cocaine. It will last for twenty minutes or so, followed by a steep withdrawal. In order to keep the high going, place some tape on your new lover's (yes, you are lovers now!) ass. In the morning, before they wake, remove the tape and have a look. Love will be squirming all over it. Store this in the fridge. It should last you about a week.

Eventually, your tolerance will increase and you will need to ingest more -- and more often. At this point, consider marriage.

Until then, though? Keep taping the anus.

Why the Way You Hold a Wine Glass Might Kill You

2007-12-11T14:14:00.000-08:00

It may seem a tad bit unnecessary to discuss how to hold a wine glass while watching the movie Speed, staring Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock, but there is a right way and a wrong way to do it -- and it does matter.

Wine is served in a kind of glass called "stemware" because the temperature at which the wine is served has a serious impact on the world's ecological balance. Wine should always be held by the stem of the glass.

If you hold the globe of the glass, the heat of your hand will warm the wine, and the entire earth (because the globe of the wine glass is in fact the entire world globe), causing major earthquakes, flooding, wildfires and the movie Speed, staring Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock, to play on a constant loop against the greatest movie screen of all: the night sky. The stars will be obliterated.

The reason for this is that tiny parasite microbes, once locked in the billions of layers of mica in the ancient wine globe, which is the world, will have infected your brain. Those microbes will alter your DNA, the DNA of the world -- and worst of all -- the outcome of the movie Speed, staring Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock.

Warming wine above its desired serving temperature will yield unwanted and nasty characteristics in your face and hands, which are the only two things this woman you brought to dinner is looking at anyway.

You will notice that after the first bite of your medium-rare rib-eye, your face and hands will have become three speeding buses that cannot be stopped, just like in the movie Speed, staring Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock -- that's right, the movie you just saw with this woman who won't stop staring at your hands and face.

The alcohol in the wine, now in the buses' slimy jaws (the buses will have mouths), will cause disruption to the psyches of the buses (the buses will have feelings), and the buses will explode if the temperature reaches 74 degrees Fahrenheit. You will notice that the major tension here is not unlike that of the movie Speed, staring Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock

This kind of detonation could cause major structural damage to the wine glass and therefore the world, not to mention serious embarrassment to you and your date, and the beginning of the end of humanity as we know it.

For what does it mean to be dead except to watch movies repeating against the infinite black heavens that is our night sky?

Enough said? Just hold the glass by the friggin' stem -- that is, unless the wine is served too cool and you need to warm it for a minute. This is sometimes considered acceptable by the riskier restaurateurs during the first frost. But, be warned: you can only warm the world if you have a 1997 984B, with two inline 8 cylinder engines and about 89,000 miles.

If this is the case, excuse yourself from the table, go to the men's room and check to see if the thermostat gauge near the speedometer has started to lean more toward the cold blue section.

But you really shouldn't risk it, because, if you get it wrong, it's not just a matter of Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves dying. No, it's that we will have to watch them live and die in a bus explosion many times every day, over and over again, for the rest of eternity -- and no body needs that shit.

Why the Doggy in the Window Might Kill you

2007-12-09T15:25:00.000-08:00

Even though you don't use it every day, it haunts you.

You can hear it crying from under every storefront. You can hear it in every squeak of Windex as a paper towel descends upon the windows of your home, of the homes of your family, or the stores at which you purchase non-doggy products.

Yes, you remember the doggy in the window, but what you may still not want to admit is that it may be associated with your death eventually. Deep inside of yourself, you know that this is true and that's why you never bought that dog. In fact, that's why you have only half-asked yourself in a silly sing-song manner that was never convincing, "how much is that doggy in the window?"

Anyway, just so you know, that dog is still there. And guess what? It's not going away. And guess what? Sooner or later, you're going to have to go back and visit it. And guess what? You're going to die eventually and your death may be associated with it.

Here's what might happen.

When you get to the window, look at the dog's eyes and you will see yourself. I don't mean that your face will be in the dog's eyes, but I do mean that the dog will have your face, and that the eyes are a good reference point when looking at the face, and that's why I told you to look at the dog's eyes. For instance, if I had told you to look deeply into the dogs paws, you would hardly be looking at it's face. So look at it's eyes and bear witness to your face.

But beware: It will look like the face of a dog, with black eyes, a cold pink nose, thick brown fur, drooling jowls. It won't look anything like you, so that's why I'm telling you now that it is your face and that you know it is and that it might ultimately, horrifically, be in some way connected to your death at some point.

Next, while looking at each other, sing the "doggy in the window" song very quietly, almost in a whisper. Sing it during the blowing of one of those really eerie winds that, when blowing down the dark and desolate street, reminds you just how sad you are, just how alone and very sad.

Now would probably be the best time to break the glass. Do this with a rock or a brick, or a potato, something you can throw.

Scream a lot and when the dog rises toward you, seemingly floating out the window in slow motion, note that his bottom has been sewn to a thick green thorny stem -- like that of a rose, only much thicker.

Note that this stem has taken root in the soil that has been neatly spread in the display case. The dog, at this point, can be described as some kind of strange dog-flower halfbreed, albeit somewhat top-heavy. As it approaches you, floating there, dumb, slobbering and cute, it will wobble and the stem with snap and it will fall to the concrete, right in front of you, and die.

If you find this image too awful to witness, you may faint and crack your skull on the street, lying in perfect symmetry with the dog, the blood from your head meeting the blood of the dog's head halfway between your heads, as it spreads on the street between your heads.

Or, you may find the whole thing so despairing that you will find the nearest bridge and plunge to your death. Or you may just go home and think to yourself, that was really fucking weird, live out all your days and die peacefully of natural causes.

Either way, there's at least a slight chance that you will die, and, that many years later, on a fateful, foggy night, a handsome, coy and mysterious detective in an overcoat might defy his orders to close the cold case and conclude that your death may or may not have had something to do with that doggy in the window and that no matter what it takes -- he will find out.

Daily Inspiration #121: Smuggle Your Spirit Across The Boarder

2007-12-09T14:19:00.000-08:00

Do you ever feel down? Little? Small? Like you are in the wrong aisle of the supermarket with someone else's groceries?

Of course you do! Let's face it, sometimes our spirits get low. "Spirit" is like gasoline: it sits inside of us in a tank where it combusts and burns and makes us move around without even trying. It's great! And, as you know, not-it is not great.

Now, if you were to open up your skull and look above the dashboard of your brain (your eyes, and, in some rare and unfortunate cases, your feet) you'd see, along with a series of knobs and switches, a gauge that goes blithely from empty to full.

And chances are, if you are like 9 out of 10 people like the rest of of except for that 1 guy -- your meter says empty. That's why you've been so sluggish, why life seems so dull and awful, why you haven't gotten out of that chair in three days, why you and pants have given up on each other.

But what happened? How did our spirits get so low?

Is it war in the Middle East? Shrinking reserves? Privatization?

No, the reason we are all running out of spirits is: increasingly tighter border control.

Yes, increased security on the US/Mexican border has made it very difficult for spirits to be smuggled into America. You just can't get your hands on the stuff anymore. In addition, customs officials and port authorities across the nation are making restrictions stricter, sanctioning more sanctions, and handing out parking tickets like there's no tomorrow, yesterday or today. Basically, getting spirits into the US is like breaking into and then back out of Fort Knox and both taking Fort Knox with you and leaving it there. In other words, it's near on impossible.

Yet, there's something that can be done. We need to stop relying on large companies to deliver our central core "us-ness" and take the market back into our own hands. (Be sure to wear gloves and goggles if you like seeing/feeling.)

You can do this! You don't need to be spiritless any longer. Rather, you deserve to be spirit-maxed.

So listen: grab a shovel, lie down on the ground, and start digging. That's right, shove that steal scoop into your chest and pull it all out. When most of you is scooped away and the shovel hits paydirt -- keep digging.

You are going to construct an elaborate system of tunnels and passages through which you and countless immigrants can run -- carrying chunks of spirit and soul beneath the earth and the authorities.

This is the change you've been waiting for.

Yet, you might soon notice that what we call "spirits" are, on closer inspection, a hell of a lot like clods of dirt, piles of rock, and tufts of grass. The resemblance is uncanny and beautiful you think. But, on even closer inspection, we notice that they are clods of dirt, piles of rock, and tufts of grass.

What? Have we cut holes into the Earth and ourselves to smuggle the earth through itself and back into us? It's like pulling our undershirt off without removing the outer one. It's horrifying and incestuous.Whatever, don't think about it. Your spirits are going up again. It feels great. You feel fantastic. I feel fantastic. We all feel fantastic.

We're running through caverns and tunnels that seem stronger and sturdier every day and we are carrying the earth into each other's bodies and we are gobbling up inlets and islands and archipelagos and subcontinents like ginger snaps and we are wearing them like pants on the other side of our legs, inside, a lining, and we are finally shopping in the only aisle there is, the only aisle we need.

Consumer tip nugget: Look for coupons in this week's daily shopper. Cut them out of his screaming body and save the blood to receive a free gift.

Why Milk Might Kill You

2007-12-03T07:18:00.000-08:00

It comes in the night, reaches through the window, and grabs you by the ankle. The milk pulls you off somewhere and all that's left is a photograph on the carton.

Like a hunter donning bear claws and shark's teeth, it mocks you by wearing you as a trophy.

No matter how strong your bones, you will cease to exist, you will go missing like the rest.

Buy Something. Out Yourself. On the Inside.

2007-11-20T13:33:00.000-08:00

Did the Nintendo Wii waltz into your life and revolutionize everything by making you swing your arms when you thought you couldn't? It's cool, right? Sometimes, you really feel like you're actually doing something for real, maybe even baseball. But you're not! That's the beauty of it.

Now, prepare to be RE-revolutionized.

I know you want to say "Hey, buddy -- I already was re-revolutionized when I bought the Wii2!" but just shutup for a second okay?

Granted, it is true, you did buy it. You had to. We all did, remember? And the Wii2 is a splendid little bugger with which you don't just swing your arms like a real baseball player, but instead really play baseball in a real baseball field. It's great! And all the while, the Wii2 sits in the dugout, making it all happen. That's why it's better than regular baseball -- you don't have to do anything, but still you get things done.

Why?

You have plugged the Wii2 into the sun and now you can really simulate "life without simulation" without really simulating it, and the Wii2 watches you do it without truly participating in what's happening itself. It is basically your spirit animal or coach.

But think about it: What is the next logical step after the Wii2? The Wii3? The Wii4, 5, 6, 7? Is that what you really think? That perhaps you'll stand on the sun and swing your arms? Fly through time and swing your arms? Swing the suns while you stand on your arm?

Forget all that and just shutup for a second. It's already been done by the Chuggas.

Rather, we are proud to introduce: The Something.

Prepare to be outed. On the inside.

With the Something, you can now not only play real sports outside, but you can do it all alone. The Something gives you your privacy while you swing your arms like a real baseball player outside. There won't be any game consoles sitting in the dugout leering at you, that's for sure.

And guess what? Despite your strongest intuition, the games don't exist inside or outside the Something Console, the Something Console exists inside the game.

Now, why don't you take a minute to wrap your head around that, okay tough guy?

See, whereas the Wii2 is always in the Dugout, the Something Console is actually the short stop and various other players. You're not allowed to know which, as it may compromise the integrity of the game.

There's only one thing. Even though you get to play outside, you have to do all of it inside.

That's right, you have to bring both the playing field and the outside inside.

Imagine the following situation: your uncle is at the bowling alley -- playing baseball. I need you to imagine this because it is true. Simply by purchasing the Something, you have converted the inside of the bowling alley into an indoor baseball field. The outside is still a bowling alley.

Now imagine this: you drive by the bowling alley, you hook a chain to the bowling alley itself, and then you drive as fast as you can directly through your house. In this way the bowling alley will get perfectly stuck right inside. And since the baseball field is already stuck inside the bowling alley, it will also be stuck inside your home.

Trust me.

Now turn back, and when you open the door to your house, with your Something in front of your face (you have to hold it in front of your face in order for it to work properly), you will only see two things: the Something, and something else.

Congratulations. You just beat the first level.

Since this is the beta version, we only have two levels. But the second one's a good one.

But let's get past all that, because you need to realize something: Not only is the Something played by dragging the outside inside, but by extracting the entire outside-inside outside of the inside.

Yes, there is another outside buried deep inside the insides.

Confused? Good. Listen, it's simple: at one point, a little bit of the outside went inside the inside, making it the outside-inside -- and now you need to get it out!

Furthermore, understand that the Something is also inside of you and always was -- we just made it accessible to the most profitable market niche.

Know that the Something is inside of us all. But you can only play yours.

That is, the only person who can play yours is you. No one else is going to do this for you, no matter how hard they bang on your door demanding to get inside you.

What's more? Inside the Something inside you, you are also there existing inside the Something -- the game console itself. In this game, you are the game. Are you ready to play yourself? It's the ultimate match between good and evil. Sound the foghorns!

Don't just hear my words, listen to them as well: I am telling you that you are inside you and you have to get you out and back inside a certain yourself which is not inside the console or you.

Yes, there are two yous. One inside and one on the outside. Also, there is another one somewhere else -- and that's the you that's listening to me talk right now. You only have three lives to live.

Admit it -- you have always known this.

Let's get back to the game plan. Here's how to get yourself out of the game console forever and back inside yourself outside of the inside of the game Console inside you:

In order to get out of the game console which is you, you have to go inside the game console which is the you inside you.

And the only way to do that is to drive your car into the Something, by yourself. Bring the Something with you. He's a star baseball player and will attract attention and he is the you sitting by your side in your eight cylinder Ferrari.

You will pass a bowling alley. Understand that this is you.

Since there is no one else with you, there is no one else to convince you that everything I have said is not true. I know what you are going to say, about how the Something is a real, live person and he's your friend. Well, I'm sorry to break it to you, but the something is hardly anything at all. It is merely you with you inside it trying to rip you out of itself from you in a speeding Ferrari, where you are, while you do the same thing to it and yourself at the same time inside both of you.

Look, even if you are so close to the Something now that you don't believe you are truly alone, at least understand that the console cannot utilize reason. It is practically a dog (i.e., it has no mind and it is a dog). It has monkey brain.

So, deal with it: you're a bowling alley.

Now, attach the hook to the rear of the bowling alley -- or yourself. As you do this, you will be reminded of lane 8, which used to be on the other side of that wall.

But remember: you turned the bowling alley into an indoor baseball field when you bought yourself, and even though it still looks like a bowling alley outside, from the rear end, at this point, it has become no more than a mirror.

You may notice for the first time that when you look at yourself, you suddenly see only a bowling alley with a baseball field inside. You are reflecting the reflection inside the reflection.

You're a mirror, too, it seems.

Continue to gaze sadly into the mirrors' magical reflective surface and you will eventually see nothing but a big asshole.

Now, you can't hook your car to a mirror, right? No, you can't. So you're going to have to improvise.

Go inside the bowling and say hello to your uncle, who is bowling the best baseball game of his life inside of you, and attach the hook to his asshole. It is more than just a reflection. Don't go too far inside, unless you want to see more baseball.

Now, go outside the baseball field and get inside your car. Drive yourself across town until you get to yourself and propel yourself right through yourself as fast as you can until you get right into the heart of yourself. You will get lodged perfectly inside of yourself. I promise.

Now, get out of your car, turn around, and walk yourself inside of the yourself that is now inside of you. Lock yourself in so you don't get out again.

Later, once you're comfortable, it is possible that another you might come slamming its car into you and try to stuff you up with more yous. Don't let this happen and it shouldn't be a problem.

Remember: Don't do it alone. In fact, do it with a Little Bitty Something in hand, now sold at the Something Online Store , and you will see only two things. Yourself and something else.

Now. Turn yourself on and play with yourself. It'll be the closest thing to real life you have ever known. You have my word.

Daily Inspitational #9: Explaining a Person To The Pain (or: Taking The "I" Out of Pain)

2007-11-06T11:58:00.000-08:00

Most people assume their pain is a concrete block at the center of their body which can never be moved but only urged and prodded at - and that's okay. It's what we've been taught by our teachers, parents, and parishioners.

Yet, now it is time to break free from the bonds these quacks have put us in. It is time to realize that your pain is a troubled and orphaned adolescent with an abusive foster family.

Yes, you heard me: all pain is roughly thirteen years old with bruises on its arm -- bruises that it claims are from falling down the stairs or bumping into a door knob.

Not only that, your pain can fly. Did you know that your pain soars out of your body across the sky -- and visits neighborhood children while you sleep? With promises of fun and excitement, and trailing fairy dust, he leads them back inside you -- where the real Neverland really does exist.

Yet, just as you didn't know Neverland really, really existed -- inside you or out -- so also does your pain not know that you exist. In order to get any rest from the constant wrenching in your stomach and lungs -- caused by this little boy's playing and dreaming -- you will have to find him, sit him down, and make him believe you are real.

How To Find Him:
Place some duct tape around your tear ducts and go to sleep. When you wake up in the morning, the little boy will be wriggling on your face, stuck in the glue, and trying to get free.

Sitting Him Down:
Rip the tape and the boy off of your face and place him on the floor. This will be much easier if you had the foresight to use double-sided tape.

Making Him Believe You are Real:
If you went out for work one morning, found yourself caught in an enormous trap and then were plucked from the world you know into a wholly other one by an enormous figure that claimed you weren't real but were actually an ephemeral piece of the whole that manifested itself as emotions in someone else much more real than yourself, what would you need them to say to convince and comfort you?

Take a few minutes to write your answer down and simply repeat these words to the little boy again and again until one of you stops breathing.

Celebrate with a scented oil massage.

Why the Amount of Space You Leave Between the Words You Write Might Kill You

2007-10-15T08:58:00.000-07:00

I ask you to recall this ancient truism: "The space where the pen doesn't spill its ink is surely mightier than the mightiest sword."

It's true: the amount of white, physical space you leave on the page between the words you write is a high-risk situation that could cost you your life.

Inside those seemingly harmless spaces, which you might have accidentally stretched with your thick pen, lurk a great many murderous creatures, especially porn stars and gorillas that are hungry for blood and armed with bazookas.

Studies show that in some instances porn stars may rise from the holes between your words and slap you in the face with used pornographic video tapes and DVDs made of pure steel and packed with big, bouncing boobies.

It has been reported that sometimes gorillas will then follow, firing missiles right at your bitch-slapped face!

The only way to completely ensure that these beastly horrors -- which hide in the stretched-out, loose holes between your words -- are stopped, is to seal the gaps between your words forever.

To complete this task, you must travel back to the beginning of time and write ceaselessly without spaces until you reach not only the end of time, but the very beginning of time once again.

You must do this and ensure that there are no gaps or holes before, after or between any of the words you have written or your face will be smacked senselessly by ass-pounding and missile-propelling primates.

But remember: the only way to entirely close the sex-death terror-holes between your words, since you don't have a powerful enough reactor to do the job, is to plug them up with dirty bombs.

You must stuff the dripping, often toothed, voids between your words with plutonium dildos.

Do this while throwing glitter, riding unicorns and twirling ferociously until a Mission leader from Alabama -- whose name is Percy -- touches your head and expels the evil spirits from the holes in it.

(Relax: the holes in your head are pretty much identical to the holes between your words; and the evil spirits, which are gorillas and porn stars, have been there since you were born.)

But be warned: if you do not throw enough glitter to make the Mission leader named Percy materialize, both you and everything you have ever written will be completely fucked.

The next day, when the chief of an African tribe questions your presence in the sacred lands where you have magically appeared as a Mission leader from Alabama named Percy, tell him that you wish to spread the spirit of Christ and shed a few pounds while you're at it.

Also, tell him that you promise to never write another word and that you would gladly administer Eucharist to the congregation for a small monthly stipend, so long as it helps you escape from the truly excruciating pain of risking death by porn-star-slap or gorilla-missile when writing words.

Why Having Your Baby Live Outside the Womb Might Kill You

2007-10-12T13:12:00.000-07:00

Most people don't know this, but the inside of the womb is louder than a vacuum cleaner.

That means that after birth, your baby may become an indiscriminate killing machine, wielding blades of steal and guns of glory, drawing massive amounts of blood from you and your family, laughing wildly as it attempts to recreate the senseless whirring suction noise it used to know.

The silence and serene environment most parents wish to create for their baby is just a festering nothing-space doom-hole in which the baby is condemned to lament it's ancestors sins and ill-doings.

The price of this seemingly innocent mistake? All of your heads.

That's right, your baby will not just gut you and your family like last night's halibut, but will also decapitate all of it's mother's personal heads. That's right, Mom, we're not just talking about the head you have now, but all of the heads you could have had -- based on the true potential of high variability in the course of history and the space-time continuum.

I know what you're going to say: "Look, Mister, planning how to deal with a crisis situation isn’t usually a part of my daily business routine. It'll take years to get the kind of approval I need for that!"

That's OK. While we should plan for the unexpected, it sometimes may be unreasonable -- depending on your schedule for dealing with paperwork, reading the mail, shopping for shoes or organizing your life! But one also must learn to make quick decisions without running them by upper management -- as an adverse situation could kill us at any moment.

There's obviously only one way to keep this atrocity from occurring in your office or home office -- and it's your vacuum cleaner.

When you extract your baby from your loud womb, hand it over to Maria and instruct the Mexican to place the baby inside the dirt chamber of your Dyson, with patented cyclone technology, and watch it spin amidst the dust and noise.

Witness your baby's elation and live fear free. If your baby appears to be upset, don't try to rationalize and get all logical with it. Remember: it's a very small but heartless, ancient killer and it came from your huge body!

If you must communicate with it directly, and have no time to contact HR or transmit your message through another third party, use a manila folder to scoop and fling shit at the vacuum and Maria who is likely using the powerful Dyson to clean the shit you just threw. Slap the Mexican's ass and give your baby the finger.

This is the kind of language your baby will understand as it spins in circles, its face pressed against the vacuum's transparent dirt-chamber window.

Why Your Bosses, Co-workers Might Be Killing You

2007-10-11T16:47:00.000-07:00

Millions of people are asking themselves, "Why did I just have a heart attack? I'm 37 years old, healthy, married, a forensic psychologist, and named Deborah. It doesn't make sense!"

And millions more people, even those not (yet) named Deborah, are having the same problem.

Everywhere you look, someone is grabbing their chests and falling to the floor. Look there, that man with the newspaper. Is he really reading quietly or is he grabbing his chest and falling to the floor? That woman in the rose bushes -- is she really gardening or is she grabbing her chest and falling to the floor?

The answers to all of these questions, obviously, is no one is doing anything at all right now. You are not reading this, you are having a heart attack. The President of The United States of America is not signing treaties and vetoing bills, he is suffering from a massive coronary. Take a moment and look around you. If you really look, you will see it. And if you don't see it, you aren't really looking.

The question remains, though: Why are we all having heart attacks everyday?

The answer? Because our bosses and coworkers, while out for a smoke break, have found a back door to our bodies and are clogging up the place. Remember that time you went through that door and ended up inside that guy from accounting's jugular?

No, you don't do you?

This is because at work we block out all intimacies -- but our need for them does not dwindle. Though we deny ourselves the knowledge of it, we are all trying to get inside of all of our coworkers, and we are effectively swimming through each other like fat kids in the kiddy pool.

But as unemployment lowers, the number of secret people inside your veins increases at a directly proportional rate! The more people you work with, the more clogged your body gets!

You are having a heart attack all the time and every day because, though you might feel young, comfortable and more or less like a 37 year old Deborah, you are in fact stuffed like a sausage with other people and are ready to burst as if through a thin layer of intestinal wrapping at any moment!

Can this process be stopped? No.

The only way to win this battle is to make everyone else's hearts attack them more than your own does you! But since this is already happening to everyone 100% of the time there is no way to increase the frequency!

However, if you were to make a pact with your coworkers, a Union, you might be able to remove all of your own hearts and stuff them into one hapless victim whom you never liked anyway.

Stand back and watch the loser's body blow apart like 4th of July fireworks as all of you rush through his body simultaneously, a thousand Deborah's killing one for the team.*

*If you are the loser being killed, remember it's for the team -- and no one liked you anyway.

Why The Place In Which You Store Highly Explosive Materials Might Kill You

2007-10-08T12:33:00.000-07:00

If you're like me, you keep your dynamite, nitroglycerin, C4 bricks, gasoline cans and pressurized containers all in one multi-purpose box. It's simple, ergonomic, and best of all, lets you rest easy at night.

Also, if you're like me, you probably didn't know that this box is not just a great place to store explosives, but is potentially dangerous and perhaps even life threatening.

FACT: Most commonly, the boxes people store their explosives in are made out of wood -- often balsa or oak.

FACT: trees, as a general rule, are intimidated by your innate human mobility. This intimidation leads their respective wood to be unstable, dangerous, and liable to attack.

Why, then, are companies supplying us with wooden boxes to keep our explosives in? Why not plastic or bone or porcelain?

Because the companies themselves are run by trees. Instead of rising to the top of already existing companies, these wooden CEOs simply sprinkled their pollen outward and grew up a fertile company around them.

But, you might ask, what kind of pollen grows companies?

Hate, fear, jealousy, and a variety of now defunct mayonnaise product lines -- all of them have been sown in the soil and are manifest in an assembly line that jettisons boxes to your home.

So, here's the rub: if you have a box at home that you store explosives in -- you might be in grave danger.

But what will happen to us? What can these boxes do to us?

In many cases, the boxes have been known to collapse around people, holding them in one place and shrinking them smaller and smaller until they solely exist on one impossible and dimensionless point in which there is no such thing as movement. In rarer cases, they have been known to explode for reasons unknown.

What can I do to protect me and my family but mostly me?

Stand perfectly still and you will be safe from the trees' jealousy and intimidation. Don't move, blink, breathe, twitch, circulate, digest or metabolize -- don't do anything at all and you will finally be safe.

The Old Woman in Your House that You Ride Like a Horse Every Day Might Kill You

2007-10-08T07:22:00.000-07:00

You might say, "Oh, please! The old woman I keep in my house and ride like a horse is utterly safe -- I've tamed her."

But a new study out of Boston College tells us otherwise. You may have trained that old woman to meet your daily riding whims, but researchers have discovered that she was not produced for that purpose.

The small warning label tucked inconspicuously under her left flank states that the old woman, manufactured at Mattel, is intended for educational purposes only -- not rough riding.

In fact, unlawful riding of the old woman in your house may cause your television to explode, triggering a chain reaction that could kill you, the old woman and most of the unsuspecting village in which you live.

When used properly, the old woman will read to your children and emit a low, metallic humming sound in the back end.

Daily Inspirational #8 - Live Every Day Looking Forward to the Last Day of the Week and Die After the 7th Week

2007-10-05T09:17:00.000-07:00

Look, why live every day like you're going die, when how you live determines what will happen in the afterlife?

If you live like your going to die, you should probably understand that you are not very special. In fact, you are a stupid and shameless coward who, out of an irrational fear of the unknown, pretends to appreciate life's brevity. With that method, you leave yourself nothing but death after you die.

So stop crying like a retard in your basement at 4am and try my 7-week-bliss-after-death program, because it really works.

I would know.

Don't be a whiny, stupid asshole. Don't live every day as if it were your last, spending useless time and money on things you don't really need or want, like bungee jumping or loving your family while bungee jumping.

Instead, I need you to spend every minute of every day looking forward to 5 'o clock, Friday, OK?

You will spend every minute as if it were gold, measuring the distance between you and the end of the work week.

Here's how it works: Every chance you get, remind yourself and your co-workers just how far away 5 o' clock, Friday, really is.

When you are using the bathroom, take a hit of your inhaler and say to those sitting in the stall next to you, "Boy, sure glad Friday is almost here" or "It's almost Friday!" or "Hey, it's still almost Friday!" If you don't get a response, knock down the stall door and beat them until they pose as a centerfold in the calender you have made.

When sitting at your desk and your boss comes along and reprimands you for wearing jeans on Thursday, pop a Zanax with 500 mg of vitamin C and say to the person sitting next to you, "Is it five o' clock yet or what?"

And just as you get on that elevator to leave the office, right when five o' clock, Friday, finally arrives -- start the whole process over. Why? Because 5 o' clock, Friday, was but a fleeting moment, a false carrot attached to the short end of a rotting stick in your ass.

Now, do this for 7 weeks, and I will personally come to your house and kill you, escort your empty soul, along with your toupee and penis pump, to the gates of heaven and proudly hand you over to a life-after-death so grand, you will be the envy of your former self.

What then? You will live eternally in the moment just before 5pm, Friday -- the greatest moment of your life, at least since the day you started to lose all your hair and began working as a account person at a small-time financial risk-assessment firm that has been running itself into the ground for years.

I mean, that was great. But trust me, this is probably going to be much better*.

* No Money back guarantee

Daily Inspirational # 7 - You Are More Than You Know

2007-09-19T15:35:00.000-07:00

Sure, everyone knows about the left brain and the right brain, but what's the biggest part of your brain?

The subconscious, of course!

In fact, it's so big that it doesn't even fit inside of your head! Few know it, but you are actually much more than exists within your body.

For example, did you know that Florida is a part of your body? All you have to do is take it back. Yes, Florida is yours to have and absorb like a mop taking water.

Though it is your right to claim them, it is also your job and responsibility to actively seek out the rest of your missing parts -- such as all of your memories -- which are now people whose lives you are entitled to control -- and all of your aspirations -- which are actually homes and part of a large and succesful condo development in the South West. They are owned and lived in by families you don't love.

Now, if you plan correctly, by the time you retire, you may just be able to save up enough to buy back your dreams and control your memories -- but only if you start saving now and track down that enormous subconscious which is located in space.

You will require a rocket and a large net to catch it.

Here are some helpful websites to help you get started.

Rocket
Net

Good luck!

Making Meaningful Money

2007-09-15T16:01:00.001-07:00

"Flesh of my flesh....something, something, something...burger of my burger...."
--Jesus Christ

Picture this: you just bought a burger at a restaurant, but you're not even hungry. That means you just wasted 15 bucks on that burger!

So, here's the problem: how are you going to make that money mean something even though you just spent it on something you don't even want?

You might think it's as simple as eating that burger with your mouth and suffering a bit, but no that is not enough.

YOU NEED TO ROB THE RESTAURANT. That's right: kill the waitress, lop off the heads of all the other customers, collect the money and then eat it.

Next? Go to the bank, but don't forget to take that burger you didn't eat. Now, take out all of your own money -- and eat that too.

You might say, "Wait a minute, I worked my entire empty life for that. Now my life and my bank account are empty."

That's right, but not for long.

Here's our mantra: Put your money where your mouth is and your burger where your money used to be!

That's right, eat your money and put your burgers in your bank account!

But here's the question: is your burger working for you or are you working for your burger?

That's where suffering comes into the equation!

It's true -- you do need to suffer to acquire meaning, but not as quickly or as stupidly as you originally thought.

Memorize this: Where B is a burger, M is money, Y is you, J is Jesus, S is suffering and M is meaning:

B + M + Y + S + J = M

You will notice that meaning and money are actually interchangeable, so long as Jesus and burgers are involved. That's right: you will be making money once again, but you must understand that Jesus is presently replicating in every cell of your beef.

What does this mean? It means that you can finally stop trying to clean Jesus out of those hard to reach places in your kitchen and bathroom because he's exclusively in your burger, and you must eat the burger!

Now, don't get me wrong. I know I told you earlier not to eat that burger. But let's face it, that was before you killed all those people. And besides, at certain points of the day, your bank account is your entire digestive system from hole to hole.

If you can only get that burger in your mouth (bank account) at just the right time, you might be able to finally crap out some meaning.

But there's a catch: at this moment, you're burger could be anywhere. Sure, you put it in your bank account, but everyone knows that your bank account is everywhere it wants to be, wherever it wants to be, whenever it wants to be. You paid for that feature when you signed up!

Now what? You're going to have to hunt and catch this Jesus burger -- but you will quickly notice that this is impossible. It scurries around corners and under furniture faster than you can believe that any of these things exist in the first place.

So what can you do?

That's where our robot comes in!

Yes, you will have to purchase our robot in order to finally make meaning.

This robot is specifically designed to hunt, kill, preserve, season and prepare your burger so that you can eat it with delight.

Yes, our robot is not just a cold blooded killer like you, but it is also a meat locker and a gourmet chef!

It gets better: we've made our robots to fit your unique life style.

That's right, this little doozy comes in three distinct variations: Jesus, burger, or you-shaped!

So when you make your purchase, be sure to tell the operator you want the robot that fits your wildest fantasies.

Great! So here's your mission: Buy the robot. Eat the burger. Shit out meaning.

That's easy, you will say.

But wait there's more. You might remember that meaning and money are interchangeable.

That's right! You just crapped out a whole stinking pile of meaningful money!

Now feel free to go down to the nearest restaurant and trade in that money for a big juicy burger you fucking idiot!

Daily Inspirational # 6 - Stop trying to fill that fist-sized hole in your chest with life-affirming objects!

2007-09-07T16:28:00.000-07:00

Listen: That hole is a regret-hole and it is not empty -- it's filled with a dipping sauce, and life-affirming objects only mar the natural zest of it's creamy base!

And you know what else? That dipping sauce in your regret hole -- it's made almost entirely of regret.

Now, let's be honest here: Don't you regret dipping into that regret sauce?

Well, no wonder! It tastes like crap!

Look: while your regret could be served at a dinner party, your family and friends would not be very pleased. But that's no problem because your primary concern is to live your life feeling guilty about things that are beyond your control -- not to try and fix it!

Don't you get it -- Your life sucks and there's nothing you can do about it and that's what you like about it!

That's where we come in! Did you see that look of disappointment on your father's face? How about your grandma crying? Well, turn those frowns upside down in minutes! Our Real Lime-Regret-Chest-Hole Zesty Dipping Sauce with Chives (TM) will suck your family into your chest and fill both you and them with something akin to fulfillment!*

*Note: you may notice your family flaking off in much the same way that dumplings leave bits of crust floating in your sternum.

And remember, don't just share your regret-hole -- regret sharing it too!

Daily Inspirational #5 - Making Yourself Heard

2007-09-06T17:48:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel as if no one is listening? That no matter how hard you try, whatever you say falls deep into a well that only you know exists? We've all been there, and it is very frustrating.

But tell me friend, isn't this deep well made of flesh and cartilage? Take a closer look as you spew out demands and declarations -- aren't those "rocks" just tiny, square lobes?

You see, that deep fleshy well is actually your own ear, and if you want to truly make yourself heard -- you will have to flush those ears out as if you were rowing a kayak on white water rapids!

Most people do not know this, but the loudest part of the body is the ear. However, you will need to do two major things before your ears do the talking for you.

1. Build up your triceps: most likely, the weight of the things that you "haven't" said will be more than you can lift at the moment. If you stick to an exercise regimen, though, you will soon move your arms so quickly that you will appear to others as if a humming bird shooting semen from its wings.

2. Get teeth in your ears: People only listen to things with teeth. This is a fact. You may already have teeth in your mouth, but they will be far more effective in your deep fleshy wells. Knock the teeth out with a hammer and shove them in your ears.

Good luck -- and have fun finally being heard by real people.

Daily Inspirational #4 - Stand Up!

2007-09-02T22:38:00.000-07:00

Today, why not stand up? Why not get right up, throw off those huge metal braces that hold you in place?

Because you are a riveted, riveting, steam powered bull made of rusted and corrugated steal.

You were made in a factory, shipped via truck and boat, and then nailed into a concrete platform. You are a coin operated, gyrating monument to something no one remembers.

That's why you can't stand up -- but even though you cannot move, remember that the view is great!

Daily Inspirational #3 - The Boondoggle of Reflection

2007-09-01T11:59:00.000-07:00

"Life reflects your own thoughts back to you"

Well, OK, sure. But what is reflection? Here's one definition: Reflection is a braided cord worn by Boy Scouts as a neckerchief slide -- often presented by a man.

There's only one problem: the man who presents the colorful kerchief of reflection to you will not be a man at all; he will be no more than an "application."

"Wait a minute!" you might say. "This sounds like 100% nonsense. If the man who gives me 'reflection' is nothing but an 'application,' how will I know it is him? Will there be any obvious sign by which I might interpret his gesture and properly accept the stylish yet functional accessory of reflection?"

Not really, no.

But there is hope -- because the "man-application" may suddenly and without warning make use of external, user-defined classes by creating instances of extensibility objects -- real objects you can see and touch, such as teeth, rocks, arm chairs, and rib-eye steaks cooked to perfection. This is a chance operation in which the man-application will make nearly everything* until a kerchief -- or boondoggle -- appears.

Utilize this information whether you understand it or not. Imitate every move the "reflection giver" or "giver.app" makes and create the kerchief at the exact moment he does.

You must wear this object.

The result? When wearing the boondoggle, you will see no one but yourself mirrored in everything and everybody else. Learn to accept seeing yourself through the clothing you wear. Sport the boondoggle with a protein shake from Jamba Juice and understand your true purpose. Walk lightly down the runway of life and become the envy of those who surround you, for they shall look to see themselves in you and find no one there but you. In essence, they have become you.

Everyone has.

Especially you.

*"Everything" in this instance refers to the following: NOT LISTED.

The Inner Child

2007-09-01T11:23:00.000-07:00

You may have heard the term, "inner child." This is more than a hip and helpful phrase that people say at parties -- it is a real phenomenon and it is a disease.

Your childhood is a parasite that lives in your blood and hunts your bones, and it has come back from the dead.

2007-09-01T11:20:00.000-07:00

Now, don't get me wrong: Your childhood still needs milk and your bones are the closest things in your body to a woman's lactating breasts. This is practically a fact.

Facts and Fictions

2007-09-01T11:19:00.000-07:00

FACT: While riding T-cells like small horsies, your childhood breaks into what might be described as tribal groups and rushes through your body seeking huge white, calcium-rich beasts to slay. They wear your memories as leggings, spurring forward with the sharp-bits of nostalgia and guilt. Hope and innocence are their jagged teeth.

FICTION: Your childhood is unstoppable and will soon overtake you.

The Secret

2007-09-01T11:15:00.000-07:00

Listen, if you care about why your bones are not entirely decimated by the small army of your childhood, then I will let you in on a well-hidden secret.

Listen: It is nothing but our childhood's foolish desire to control nature that has disallowed it from killing our bones. Look: the bottom line is, if they try to control the T-cell horsies, neither will ever get back to the bones because the T-Cells naturally gravitate toward bones. However, when they are controlled (by our childhood), this innate desire is erased!

In addition, the very fact that the tribal groups are controlling your cells is the reason that they are selling freedom for drugs -- which they are. If they were to only let the T-Cells guide them instead of using them in accordance with their Full Prescribing Information, they would be led immediately to the bones, the place they actually want to be -- the place you, your bones, your blood, your childhood, your T-cells and your newly acquired crack-cocaine (previously bought with Freedom Units) will learn to be a real family -- or else. Yet, so long as they look for it, they will never find it.

Lucky for you, this conundrum keeps you and your bones safe from harm. In fact, this ongoing process is why you have bones at all, or a body to put them in.

You Are Protected By An Ancient Coincidence

2007-09-01T11:13:00.000-07:00

But there is a problem: When isolated, remote and high in the mountains, your childhood has transportation difficulties. The terrain becomes so impassible they can no longer steer. In fact, because of these crippling difficulties, your childhood entirely forfeits the bone-hunt and resigns itself to failure -- thus letting the T-Cells control themselves once again -- and therefore allowing your childhood to finally succeed via a roundabout and entirely accidental journey to the bones, led by T-Cell guilt and various drug addictions.

And this is where THE BATTLE begins -- in the loneliest place on Earth: your bones!

Consider the following statement:

2007-09-01T11:10:00.000-07:00

The most famous place will be erected by a full-blooded Indian. Think about it.

Something to Consider

2007-09-01T11:05:00.000-07:00

Here's a tip: Tin mining is where it's at. Not iron.

One of the rituals in this ancient battle is to create your opponent's shield, and he yours. Let your childhood choose his material first. If everything goes according to plan, he will cut corners in production and utilize the blood's most abundant resource -- iron.

Once your childhood has completed your shoddy but strong armor, it is time for you to exercise finesse and guile by making use of your blood's least known resource: tin foil. You will find it deep within the large redwoods of the colon. Use buckets, tree-taps and patience to sap the foil from the ancient wood in flimsy sheets. Toss a few of these together and you have an entirely useless armor -- but your opponent will be blinded by it's elegance and rarity.

Do not worry about the cost of acquisition and production. Tin foil is a product of your body -- and you don't have to pay for anything but tolls. This is a little known fact, but a useful one especially in tourist season.

You Must Fight Your Opponent

2007-09-01T11:00:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make... Unfortunately, your opponent will not be your childhood but instead it's official representative: your infancy -- which has been hunting your childhood's bones all along. And, according to sources speaking on terms of anonymity*, "it's so sweet, it's like taking candy from a baby."

But it won't be your infancy that you fight either, actually; from within your infancy's blood appears your pregnancy term -- and from within your pregnancy term appears your conception.

You will fight all of them as one opponent.

* you, much later

How To Win/Safety Information

2007-09-01T10:42:00.000-07:00

IF YOU EXPERIENCE DIZZINESS, GASTROINTESITNAL NOISES, HEART VALVE DESPERATION, STRANGE WARTS, HORRIBLE IDEAS, DO NOT STOP FOR ANY REASON. THESE SYMPTOMS CONNOTE SUCCESS.

You must continue to age and acquire serious medical conditions.

Search for the pieces of diseases that are hidden in rooms, caves, and other important moments in your life -- all of which are actually stored deep inside your body. All of the places you have ever been are stored away like old newspapers and grow dusty in your organs and bio-systems. Keep hunting!

Once your burlap item-sack is entirely full of ailments, rapidly increase your age by turning the knob on the bottom of your spleen to "OLD."

What Conquering Really Looks Like

2007-09-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

As you face off against your childhood in a cathedral of bones and chicken wire, harness the nearby donkey -- it is a good means of transportation -- and ready your sword.

You will know that your childhood has been vanquished when spiders fall on wisps of dander -- and balloon through the stadium dropping diapers filled with flowers and candy.

Daily Inspirational #2 - A lesson of time.

2007-08-27T06:13:00.000-07:00

This is the first lesson one must learn when trying to be constantly, maybe even oppressively, inspired: let the days come to you. In this way, they will bring less baggage.

Less than what? You decide.

Daily Inspirational #1 - Starting Your Personal Hygiene Engine

2007-08-20T21:26:00.001-07:00

Key to the Keyhole. Mind to the Mindhole. Twist and Shout. Spread.

ACHIEVE FREEDOM FROM AND THROUGH THE GREAT MOLE RAT

2007-06-30T05:43:00.000-07:00

I normally give this pre-quiz to the attendees of my seminars in order to see who is ready to experience modules 1 and 2. Note: not for the weak willed or fiscally inept.

Good luck!

Pre-Quiz:

Are you like the rest of us? Do you often find yourself thinking:

I am serious about making a change.

Yes

I am not bothered by things that don’t bother me.

Yes

I find that I am no longer bothered by things that I once suspected would bother me in the future.

Yes

I have an overwhelming sense that the Great Mole Rat is a black void that will consume everything around me in one horrifying expanse of immeasurable movement, and that the Great Mole Rat is also the person I see when I look in the mirror, and/or everything everywhere and/or nothing at all.

Yes

If you answered “yes” or “no” to any of these questions, then you are now ready to take the full quiz.

Full-Quiz:

I am willing to take responsibility for ending my relationship, not only with others, but also with my body parts. I am ready to move forward with my own life without them or anything else. I am open to hear the truth from my “coach.” I am willing to improve my current “life skills” and “learn” how to be “alone” inside the Great Mole Rat.

Yes

I have no support community. I do not believe in building them or in edifices in general.

Yes

I am ready to identify and eliminate.

Yes

I have insufficient financial resources to invest in the coaching process.

Yes

I am able to focus my strengths on collecting sufficient finances to begin the coaching process.

Yes

I am able to see humor and a certain kind of lightness in the fact that I need a coach, which I do, from Rufus.

Yes

I am willing to accept that I am not human, that it is not OK to make mistakes or excuses, and that the only way out is to accept 5 magical rings and 4 simple steps into my life with sufficient finances so that I may be coached into the reality of the Great Mole Rat Machine, which is freedom.

Yes

I am ready to disregard my past as useless and use the truth of freedom as a springboard to dive into the future of reality and aloneness inside the Great Mole Rat. I am ready.

Yes

I am willing to build strong reserves so that I may defeat myself fully with the help of this program. I will give my money to the program Coach.

Yes

I am ready to quit my job and work for the program.

Yes

Fuck the present. I want my future inside of the Great Mole Rat inside of me now!

Yes

I am motivated to change because everything about me is wrong and bothers others.

Yes

SCORING

If your total score was:

Mostly No

You have to focus and process yourself; This is not a good time for coaching, but it is a good time to transfer your time-share to the program and begin to see your personal flaws, which are many. Consider getting “real” professional support from someone else, such as a Spiritual Architect or Jungian Calibrator. If action is not taken quickly, you may notice a slight blackening in your bones and center.

Mostly Yes

You are good; Coaching should focus on your personal finances first, then more so in the future. Email to make a complimentary 20-minute Coaching-Needs Assessment Appointment. Understand that your twenty minute session will be spent waiting for a response. There is a great and subtle meaning in waiting. If you do not find it, keep waiting. 15 cents will be added to your account for each additional minute.

All Yes

You're ready to move in with us inside the Great Mole Rat, which is Freedom. So come on! The program will help you peel off any areas that are still holding you back. Email us and then lay prostrate on the ground awaiting the transcendence. Please note, the transcendence is not tax deductible.

CHECK OUT THE PROGRAM SNEAK PEAK BELOW!

MODULE 1:

The 5 Rings of Principle:

There are 5 "Magical" rings that usher you into the Great Mole Rat all around you and inside of you. These rings are actual physical objects, available to purchase for just under $189.95. That's over $6000 in savings when you buy direct from Rufus Silas Wally!

1. Freedom: Freedom is what enables us, through the Great Mole Rat, to be who we are, to offer the products we do. From top to bottom, Freedom is the blood that flows through our company's veins. Having the Freedom to build into company walls an elaborate circulatory system through which Freedom can flow to all departments is paramount to our success. Freedom is everything. The Great Mole Rat is Freedom.

2. Respect: A mutually beneficial relationship is the only worthwhile one. We respect our customers, we respect each other, and we respect the Wiccan Spirit of Fertility (the Great Mole Rat). Without respect, we would lose our strong customer base, our company camaraderie, and our autumn harvest -- the only way to make it through the cold winter of the third fiscal quarter. Thus: Respect is the eye of the Great Mole Rat.

3. Love: Imagine a world without love. Then imagine a company without love: which is worse? A world exists of its own accord, but without love a company cannot run. Thus, the program operates under the belief that there is a finite amount of love in the world, and that as much love as possible must therefore be harnessed for the good of our company -- and finally the consumer! Now break off your marriage and place your face into the love removal orb. The Great Mole Rat is in the Orb and in you. It is the orb. It is love. It is removal. It is you.

Fig. 1.1 Aim not just for the center, but all parts at once, and also yourself.

4. The Bottomless Void: For the program to run efficiently, we make profound use of the bottomless existential void. Once thought only to be a philosophical dead end, we have discovered, in fact, that the void is more of a teleport system than anything else. Interoffice mail is smooth and instantaneous with the help of a thousand years of insecurity and uncertainty. The Great Mole Rat is the Void. It is also the Not-Void.

5. Children: Our youth is what holds these rings together. Without them, the rings would fly off in all directions, harming innocent graphic organizers. Simply put, The Company cannot run unless we have the freedom to respect those who love their children so much that they throw them into the bottomless void of existence. It is the fundamental principle on which everything relies. The Great Mole Rat finds sustenance in the idea of children. It also is the ideas of children and not-children.

ONCE YOU HAVE THE 5 MAGICA L RINGS OF PRINCIPLE, LEARN TO USE THEM WITH MODULE 2!

MODULE 2: FOUR STEPS FROM FEAR: USING THE 5 MAGICAL RINGS OF PRINCIPLE TO OVERCOME THE GREAT MOLE RAT WITH FEET

I believe that it is nothing more than a lack of acceptance and resources to follow the 5 Rings of Principle that keeps people from no longer fearing the Great Mole Rat and becoming real, both in business and in the general "Life World."

Therefore, we have developed a four-point mobility module to get you moving out of the old and into the real. It is called "The Four Steps From Fear."

Drawing from our book, The Four Steps to the 5 Rings: Discovering the One, these four steps will help you become a real person by facing the Great Mole Rat with the 5 Rings. Since immersing oneself into the only true reality via acceptance of the Great Mole Rat through the 5 Rings in four easy steps may be difficult to understand, we have elucidated the process below with a fun and easy to remember acronym:

FEET.

Here's how to turn FEAR into success through FEET:

FEEL: Touch yourself all over. Do it on the inside as well. Now, ask yourself, What is my vision? What is my goal? What do I want? Lay out exactly what you want and what you need and realize that they are in fact synonymous. Get clear: you want to rid yourself of the Fear of the Great Mole Rat by using the 5 Rings in Four Easy Steps.

ENTER: Notice the warning signs. They are yellow and black. Notice your face and how you resist the ultimate goal. Notice your fright. That's good: keep it for copyright and take note of it on paper or with a voice recording device. Use your notes to enter (they will be collected at the door) and be aware that you will be escorted into a control room in which you will have to operate various levers and buttons. To entirely avoid failure or loss, read up on mechanics and electricity.

Fig 1.2: Is this you? Understand that it is.

ENTER: This is not the same as step two. You might say, I already entered once, how can I enter again? Think about it. Now you must break your ambition-dream into pieces and watch it crumble; allow your tears to mingle with the dust of the past because it was wrong. What is your next step? What support is in place? You are all alone now.

TALK: Don’t say. Rather, choose to “talk yes" to everything. You now agree with the change and everything we say and do. If you choose "no," it is OK, simply go back to touching yourself and repeat the process until you are ready to be real. If you did “talk yes,” do not be afraid: you may be alone, but a transformation has occurred. You are ready to truly become real. You are ready to become one with the Great Mole Rat with the 5 rings. You are ready to turn fear into freedom!

-------

DID YOU FIND THIS HELPFUL? OR DO YOU JUST LIKE LEMONADE OR MOTHERS? THEN YOU MIGHT FIND OUR DISAMBIGUATION ON OBJECT CONSTANCY RELATIO HELPFUL!

Achieve Object Constancy Through The Family Friendly Game of Relatio

2007-06-29T06:39:00.000-07:00

Other people do not exist! Our anxiety over separation from the mother-figure casts a shadow on the retina, confusing the mind into thinking that there are other mothers. But there are no other mothers. In fact, there was no mother at all ever! But wouldn’t that mean that there are no people and there is no you?

Yes.

Consider this: Bonding and attachment are both cornerstones of human development essential to a child's stable functioning as it grows. How are you to function without existing at all? The answer: By achieving the Golden Relatio and consuming other things that do not exist. One can only achieve the Golden Relatio if one feeds his or her nothingness with nothing at all!

We invite you to drink from our cup and identify what is not you, i.e., “the not-me possession”.

A not-me possession is an external object. An external object is a person. Do not mistake it for an object. Lemonade is a person. It is your mother. Think about it. We are asking you to realize that nothing exists. Once you understand this, you can develop a relationship with any object that you previously thought existed – because they are people but they do not exist and they are not you, and they are your mother.

The connection that you do (not) have with other things that do (not) exist is expressed in a “relatio.” Relatios are measured in NothingMotherUnits (NMU)

Figure A: Is this you? Understand that it is (not).

Why (not) lemonade? Think about it – does anything else say mother like a cold, tall glass of lemonade? Lemonade is the oldest object of commercial relatio, dating back to the Mayan civilization where warriors roamed the countryside with monopoly rights to sell lemonade from cups from tanks from the bones of their ancestors. These warriors sought the perfect customer: their mothers. Though this philosophy of maternal liquidation originated over 1,000 years ago in Mexico, our lemonade is purely American – and more importantly, of the one true mother: your mother.

Now what? Though you do not realize it, you have been given lemons and are making lemonade. Now you are experiencing a loss of boundaries. There are layers of black static that produce blue light. It is difficult for you to see where lemonade ends and you begin. The relatio, in NMU’s, is strengthening. Count Your NMU’s as they grow. These units can be exchanged for a new not-me object for you to pair with. You must pair with an object.

But how? Keep feeding nothing with nothing and throw your life away. You have begun your courtship with the object of your choice. It is a person. It is your mother. It is the bones of your ancestors. It is you: a newborn lemon. Now perform relatio on your mother.

RELATIO: A Game of Object Pairing

Objective: The objective of this game is to establish a real relationship between two not real things.

Figure 1: Is this easy? Understand that it is!

Consider the following statement:

The empty space between stars is just as old as the stars themselves. In fact the stars don’t exist – the only thing existing is the empty space between where they aren’t. Does this scare you? Well, it should. But wait: does it titillate you? It titillates and scares the shit out of you whether you like it or not – because it is the basis of relatio, the end to which we all secretly strive.

Wait, what are we striving for? You are striving for an increased percentage score. Get it? You want points. You want to be the winner, recorded in the archives of the Universe. Yet, there are no scores, there are no archives, and there are no universes. Simply put, there is no you. So, what can you do if there are no you?

Can you still win?

Yes and No. But we prefer to say No because no is the new yes. Yes is still yes, but no is a better, updated version of yes. Ergonomic and efficient, no fits nicely into the hole where yes used to be. The hole where it used to be is your mother. Your mother is a hole.

Crawl inside the fucking hole, dick. But don’t get excited and don’t be scared. Remember: This hole is neither you nor your mother (and, of course, it is both of you—updated). But think about it: No matter what it is, it is a kind of womb and it is not there at all. It is the place where you can incubate relatio and thus rack up points using an easy checklist. Remember: the total number of points you can obtain is 23.

How do I play? Don’t be a jerk! It’s easy!

Establish a basic relationship between yourself and another object. Use twine, wire, rope, chain, or guilt, etc. Any object will do. You start with a score of zero.
Now wrap it (the relationship) in a layer of just about anything and repeat until you have about 10 layers of anything. Finally, wrap it in gift paper (so it looks nice).
Moles will appear from the hole where your mother wasn’t. They will briefly not exist .Whack them while they aren’t there to earn bonus points. You will notice that this is how you live your life anyway.

When the music stops, remove ONE layer of wrapping. Repeat until the last layer of wrapping has been removed.
Now you must face the boss. Half of the battle is gaining the confidence to KNOW that the next shot is going to be right down the middle. After you've proven to YOURSELF that this system works, you can prove it to everyone else. This is done like a cake walk. Simply Listen and Move.

The boss will have dice. If he throws a SIX, you must put on the Hat, Scarf and Gloves before he starts to unwrap the relationship with the knife and fork, and then starts to eat it.
You must disallow the boss from eating the relationship so that the protein in your mother’s brain will turn to milk and enter the only mouth there is: you mouth, the eternal mouth between the stars that were never there!

How do I compute my score? The score will compute itself for you because you don’t exist. The scoring system machine (SSM) will start computing f(x) with x=0, then increment x until f(x) is negative or not prime. If a prime number appears several times, it will be only counted once. But none of this matters at all, asshole.

Great! What Can I win?

You mean, What can’t you not unwin? Here is a list of prizes, corresponding to points earned:

1. A golden clasp decorated with diamonds and rubies

2. A golden clasp

3. A clasp worth forty pounds

4. A clasp worth forty marks

5. An "M" of gold with a diamond

6. An "O" of gold with a ruby

7. An "M" of gold with an emerald

8. A very rich ring

9. A ring of gold

10. A golden ring (2)

11. A ruby mounted on a golden rod

12. A rich silken chaplet

13. Three fine pieces of cloth

14. A swift horse with silk trappings

15. A bay horse

16. A noble courser, saddled and bridled

17. A barded destrier with harness (2)

18. A white hound with a gold collar around his neck

19. A bear

20. A talking parrot

21. A big dead fish

22. The space between two red giants

23. A big dead fish

But what can this do for me? Fuck you, don’t you get it! An interdependent social body cannot coordinate as long as its component members are locked in real relationships.

Whew, I feel amazing. Put your arms around the product of your labors. Learn to harness the power of the relatio blockade. It is made of protein. Protein gives you power. Protein comes from lemonade. Lemonade is the supple milk made from your supple mother—that’s right, I finally said it—lemonade is made from your mother. You have to sell your mother to your mother who does not exist to find out who you really are and why you do not exist. Think about it: how else can you harness the power of all this without first having the power of another object. Have it. Pair with it. That’s our motto. Have it all and pair with it all because who gives a shit, because none of it is not really not there. That’s right: you exist after all. You now have 23 points that mean nothing. Get on the exercise bike. Now you are tired and need to enjoy your relatio with our delicious, homemade lemonade.

Awareness, Magic Johnson, and You: Are We Facing a Crisis?

2007-06-25T08:40:00.000-07:00

ARE we facing a crisis? Put it this way: have you ever been watching basketball?

Moreover, have you ever been watching basketball when a Johnson drives toward the hole, beats 'em off the dribble, performs a massive facial, impregnates the basket when out of nowhere a commercial for big hard pipes interrupts your viewing pleasure and all of a sudden you slowly start to realize you've forgotten something?

It hits you: Magic Johnson still has AIDS.

Yes, contrary to popular belief, this problem did not just go away in the 1990's and it did not move to Africa. You remember, in fact, that Magic Johnson doesn't even have AIDS in Africa. He still has it right here at home in The United States of America.

As Sir Thomas Willard said in 1672, “Wherefore, when Magic Johnson betakes himself to sleep, so great a restlessness and tossing of Magic Johnson's members ensue, that he flops around like a fish... because he still has AIDS.”

You know all this and yet, Magic Johnson doesn't even have AIDS. He has HIV.

My god, Then why can't Magic Johnson sleep at night?

WAKE UP, PEOPLE!

Are you aware that awareness keeps people awake?

Magic Johnson may not have AIDS, but he has AIDS Awareness.

AIDS awareness is a problem not just here in America, but across the world-globe. This problem affects you and everyone you know! Everyday, more and more people have AIDS Awareness. It can be spread from person to person -- and there is no cure.

Did you know Magic Johnson is the only true source of this awareness?

So, why does Magic Johnson have AIDS awareness? Here are some things to keep in mind:

Can Magic Johnson still have AIDS awareness from a bug bite? YES. He has been injected with an anesthetic and a blood-meal will be served to the queen.

Can Magic Johnson still have AIDS awareness from a kiss? YES. Knowledge mates with passion and all hell breaks loose!

Can Magic Johnson still have AIDS awareness from a toilet seat? YES. But no toilet seat works without a toilet or pipes for plumbing. Booo-yah!

Can Magic Johnson still have AIDS from our fine quality, big ol' pipes? YES because Magic Johnson once said: “God had a plan for me and I'm just fulfilling that plan, ... Just like HIV.”

Wait, what's happening? What is Magic Johnson's plan?

Don't you get it? It's all connected and they don't want you to know.

But who's “they?”

The Magic Johnson community at large! They is trying to cook prime rib at a startling honey mesquite velocity. He is trying to give you and everyone you know AIDS awareness in the form of a high protein dinner of collared greens and fried chicken - available at any Magic Johnson theater, which is true.

STOP!!! That's racist. Yes, but much racism is just another twisted form of awareness. Are you aware of RACE? Well, I hate to break it to you, but you've probably been racist. Work on fixing this simple problem in your spare time too, kids, and remember HIGH PROTEIN RULES!

Wake up people, it's time to wake up!

It's all the massive and aware brain of the Magic Johnson AIDS awareness machine.

For only 19.95 a month, we can give you access to pipes with which you can reverse the awareness all around you.

Be a hero. Get Pipes.

Can I really be a hero? It sounds hard. With pipes it's always hard - and big.

Wait, maybe some of you out there are thinking, “My God, I never told anyone this before - I - I - I have AIDS awareness.”

We all do! It's gone that far! Now, do we open our mouth and take that load of burnt prime rib or stick it right back to the man? Huh, HUH?

I wanna stick it! But where should it be stuck!? Right at the heart of awareness: inside the bowels of Magic Johnson. But this won't be easy. There's only one entrance and it's a tight squeeze.

Where? Through the back door. You have to climb through the marshland and acquire the magic whistle. Then you must bend the big hard pipes to change the trajectory of awareness back into MJ's angus beef hole.

NO! That's how fires start!

That's right. You have to fight fire with fire. Think of Magic Johnson as an easy bake oven radiating massive amounts of AIDS awareness at 600 degrees Fahrenheit. This shouldn't take long to do.

You have to do something you don't understand and you're probably going to die! Now get in there!

But what if I do open my mouth to the wide open sky and take that load instead?

Then you're eating dinner for two, brother. Without our patented very big "pipes," fibrous cables and switches of high capacity and speed, you will unleash upon the world Magic Johnson's ultimate plan: TOTAL AIDS AWARENESS! This, in time, can become full blown AIDS awareness, an unstoppable avalanche of knowledge. And that's not what you want. Not at all!

My god, what if Total Aids Awareness DOES occur?

You have to be prepared to protect your family in a man against man, god against all scenario because at the instant the total AIDS awareness is reached, Magic Johnson will have gained control of all matter and forces not only in a single universe, but in all universes whose existence is logically possible; And this is the end times.

So, when Magic Johnson comes like the fury and in stringy spurts from all directions, how can I and/or my family survive total AIDS awareness? Is there an off ramp from the highway of the end times?

No!

Allow the dark awareness of Magic Johnson to penetrate you unprotected. Use the barbecue sauce brush!

No!

Slather everything in your spicy sauce, and then enter the arena mother fucker because this is a basketball court and you're playing alone!

Everyone you knew was incinerated at 600 degrees Fahrenheit of awareness.

Wake up: You are that awareness. You are Magic Johnson barreling toward the wet, dripping dilating net. This is your one shot! The money shot!

I don't think I can do it!

Grow a pair of balls, dick! Dribble to the hole! Perform the massive facial and impregnate the basket! This is not a spectators sport any longer, buddy! Get into the lotus position, missionary, wheelbarrow, doggie style, rocket ship. Dirty Sanchez, Polish block party. Just do it, fucker!!!

The ball goes in and you come out.

Once an insignificant cell amidst crisis, you become a 2001 space baby with beautiful eyes and pipes for teeth who is too young and innocent to know anything. Ignorance is the new innocence and it is yours as a free gift when you buy our fine quality pipes and everything else we tell you to buy.

You have a chance to do it all again,

you fat,

pathetic,

piece of shit.

Stop thinking and this time, do it right. Do it pipes!