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By Jim Stiene
I was going to take a class in motivational speaking, but I
just couldn't work up the energy. These guys have about as much vision as Hellen Keller on a
drinking Binge. What do I look for in a woman? LOW STANDARDS! When I got home last night I got a call from a telemarketer
asking me if I would ever consider switching long distance carriers. I told her
I would switch carriers if she knew one that could block out telemarketers. Last week, my doctor informed me
that I'm suffering from premature Alzheimer's Disease, and I secretly wonder how long it will be before I
wind up in a dark corner watching reruns of 'Gilligan's Island' or listening to
John Tesh albums for secret messages. But what can you do? Four years ago my
doctor told me if I didn't lower my blood pressure, I'd be dead in three years.
When I went in for a checkup last week, he acted like he saw a ghos
If there's such a thing as gravity, then how come fat women aren't
surrounded by thin guys? I've been reading 'Stark Forces' by Norman Powell. It's a powerful and
compelling novel with each page offering deep insights and haunting revelations
into the human condition. Dark and poetic, it unfolds with a clarity and
purpose that's both exhilarating and compelling. It's based loosely on an
episode of the Jeffersons, only in the novel, George and Weezy don't own a
chain of laundry-mats, but run an office supply store. Last night I dreamed Keanu Reeves fell down an elevator shaft and was
horribly mangled. Then I went to sleep. I've been practicing celibacy lately. Unfortunately it's through no choice
of my own. Fat? She's so fat if she gains any more weight Richard Simmons will show up
on her doorstep and start crying. And that could get ugly. No one deserves to
see that. If somebody blows a dog whistle and nobody hears it, does it make a sound? I don't understand what people mean when they say Monica Lewinsky's career
is ruined. I'm sure there are a LOT of guys that would hire her. Let's face it,
she has a marketable skill. She doesn't even need a resume. Her reputation
speaks for itself. Still, I have a feeling the Clinton affair left a bad taste
in her mouth. I don't care what he says. I'm a writer, damn it. I'm not interested in
semantics. Sex? At my age I'm lucky I can get up the energy to cut the cheese. When I went home last night, my wife asked me why we never go anyplace
exotic like Rome or Paris. I said, "Does the word 'Foreclosure' mean anything
to you?" I guess I've just been a little down since I got passed up for that job as
the cameraman in a 'Girls gone Wild' video. She has all the loyalty of a coke slut and the sincerity of a personal
injury lawyer. I've always thought that therapy was for people with too much money who like
to talk about themselves. And Sutterly's in a bad mood as well. But no one takes him seriously since
he was caught playing with himself in the supply closet. It must be difficult
being the regional manager of sales if nobody wants to shake your hand. This company has been bought and sold more often than a fickle politician. Sex? I stopped sleeping with my wife about 75 pound ago. I was just having an innocent conversation with an attractive woman, who had
a strange resemblance to an actress I had seen in a movie at a bachelor party. I guess my real ambition in life is to become a guard in a womans' prison. What does a man have to show if he gains the whole world, but loses his
soul? Well, the whole world for one. That's not exactly his mortal soul, but
it's not too shabby where I come from. He's got issues? Time magazine's got ISSUES, Tom is totally fucked in
the head. I don't understand why people are always asking me why the chicken crossed
the road if they think they already know the answer? Do they really want my
opinion or are they just toying with me? "Who came first, the chicken or the egg?" "The Chicken." "But how did it get there?" "It crossed the road." "But who made the road?" "A road crew." "But how did THEY get there?" "They drove." How come you always hear about birds flying south for the winter, but you
never hear about them flying north? Does that mean they just fly around the
earth in circles, and wouldn't that get confusing after a while? That guy could sell skiing equipment to an invalid. He could sell shit to a
PortoJohn salesman. He wrote a movie about prison romance called, 'Forced Entry.' Leave it to
Raymond to write a love story about gay rape and sell it to public television as an
art film. I think PBS would air movies about hang gliding nuns as long as they
were radical lesbians. I was wrestling with Plato last night, but he got me in a headlock. So I
tried out a move I saw on the World Wrestling Federation and kicked his ass. What do comedians do for laughs? Where do the people who work at Disneyland go on vacation? I've been thinking about starting an existential game show called, "What's
the point"? No one would win any prizes, and everyone would die in the end. I felt sad because I had no shoes. Until I met a man who had no dick. These days, comedians just don't take comedy seriously. They think it's all
a big joke. I've taken on a second job. I've been saving up for a pack of cigarettes. I was reading about Hannah Arendt's theory on the banality of evil last
night, and wondered what she would think if she were alive to hear a John Tesh
album. How come nobody writes about the evil of banality? I have a cousin that's serving four consecutive life sentences. But luckily,
he's got a lawyer who's trying to knock it down to three. I'm not sure what to think about 'Enlightenment.' To me, it's like the
G-Spot of the soul: People tells me it exists, but I'm not convinced. How do people with multiple personalities feel about group sex? When people masturbate, do they call out their own name? He's not the brightest bulb in the building. He's about as dumb as an honest
politician. I almost got run off the road by a priest on the way home. Where?s the
funeral? Is he trying to drum up business by causing mine? Women keep telling me to get in touch with my feminine side, but I don't
know. Last time I got in touch with my feminine side she sued me for sexual
harassment. I'm doing okay at work, but decided to make some extra money selling oregano
to high school students: 'Psst. Hey, kid, do you want to buy some herbs?' I believe in God, but I believe he's either incompetent or a misanthrope. Actually, if God's a perfect being, why would he need our help or thanks? Is he
perfect, but really narcissistic? 'So what do you think of that meadow I made?'
'It's nice, God, really. Thanks.' I get really annoyed at pizza places that heat up slices to the point of
burning your mouth. It's like the coffee they serve in some restaurants. I just
want a cup of coffee. I don't want to smelt copper. Should you give a get-well card to a hypochondriac? Isn't that just
encouraging him? Whoever thought of the term, 'Sober as a judge' was probably being
sarcastic. When these guys aren?t busy giving out drunk driving tickets,
they're busy getting them. You couldn't pay me to eat at Denny's. They served better food at the Donner party. I sometimes wonder if, when you're dying, the light at the end of a tunnel is actually a delivery room. But then, I also wonder what it would be like to
shag Jane Leeves, so what do I know. Still, the idea of reincarnation has
always fascinated me and raised numerous questions. For example, if you really
are reincarnated, but you can't remember your past life, what good is it? I
also wonder if where you're going is more important then where you?ve been, and
more importantly, if there's going to be cable. And I wonder who or what I
would be resurrected as if I could be born again and how God feels about
recycling. Is reincarnation just more economical than creating souls from
scratch? Is God actually just an incredibly clever skinflint? Is there some
container in heaven for bottles and cans, and which one am I? I was watching the X-Files the other night and wondering something. What kind of cellular calling plan do Moulder and Scully have? I try to call the
next town and it's out of my calling range. Yet Moulder will be in Finland or
something and get calls from Scully on his cell phone. Now I see why they call
it science fiction. I mean, flying saucers are one thing, but nobody has a
cellular plan like that. It's just not believable. Are there any objective standards for art, or is it all in the eye of the
beholder, and if so, how do you clean it out of your eyes? Paint remover?
Contact lense cleaner? I've heard researchers might have found a cure for cancer from an element in mother's milk. Breasts really are amazing. They're not just decorative, but functional too. People never cease to amaze me. I picked up a small stand from a store the other day, but while I was waiting on line to buy it, I put something heavy on it and leg broke off. When I told the woman at the register, she said, 'Do you
still want that?' How do you respond to something like that? 'Actually I was
kind of hoping for a stand with four legs if that's possible.' What did she expect me to say? 'No, let me have this one. It will look so good on the patio
with three legs, wobbling around every time someone?s ice tea slides off and
smashes to the ground.' I went to a shrink a few years ago, but stopped going after he interpreted a
reoccurring dream of mine about fruit to mean I wanted to sleep with Carmen
Miranda. I don't even like salsa, much less emotionally disturbed women with
fruit on their head. Okay, I've always had a weakness for Hispanic women, but I
don?t think people should have to refrigerate hats. She's just a little flaky? A Butterfinger is flaky. My wife is
falling to pieces. Just once I'd like to meet one of those televangelists that say they talk to
Jesus. I mean, a lot of people pray, but not too many think Jesus talks back to
them. I wish I were there when they said Jesus spoke to them. I'd be like,
'Well, I talked to Jesus just yesterday, and he says you're full of shit.' I just saw 'Cats' the other night. It was great. I laughed, I cried. Then I
tool a pill for my manic-depressive disorder. I've really been getting into new bands lately. Greensnake, Ten Inch Nails,
The Matching Pumpkins. No one can tell me I'm behind the times. 'You just don't get it, do you?' 'What? Malaria? The New York Times? Dishpan hands?' I've thought about the perfect murder. You don't hire a hit man, you send an
abusive letter to a organized crime figure under the person you want to kill's
name: Dear Mr. Gambino You don't know me, but your wife certainly does. I don't know what I
enjoy more, telling you that you are a pathetic, ignorant pig fucker who likes
to fondle small boys, or having your wife perform oral sex on me while I make
jokes about your congenital impotence and tendency towards cross-dressing. I would personally slap your pansy-ass face, if I weren't too busy
screwing your wife. But for now, let me just say that you are a useless pile of
shit, who's lived too high on the hog for someone as stupid and ugly as you.
And, by the way, Frank Sinatra was a fag. P.S. I fucked your daughter too. Speigleman showed up for work today in a tin foil hat, mumbling something
about David Schwimmer sending him secret messages. He didn?t have any trouble
doing his work, but I wonder what the other employees were thinking. The dress
code around here is business casual, but I don't think that includes wearing
aluminum foil on our heads. I just hope none of the clients saw him. How the
hell would I explain that? We're testing a new product line? Maybe I can tell
them he's working on some virtual reality software. And that's actually not
that far from the truth. I'm beginning to think he is living in his own
virtual reality. I don't want to come across as too skeptical, but some things in the bible
are a little hard to believe. Like Noah's Arc. Am I supposed to believe that
everyone in China, Africa, South America and Ireland are descendants of four
Jewish guys and their wives? And at what point did they stop speaking Hebrew
and start speaking Spanish or Madarin? That's pretty hard to swallow. No, I
take that back. Old Milwaukee is hard to swallow. That's as crazy as a race-car
driver on LSD. I was just watching one of those 'No Money Down' infomercials last night
with testimonials from people you could swear were the missing link: 'Have an
extra chromosome? Well, don't let that stop you from making millions in real
estate. Bobby Joe, here has a sixth grade education, four missing teeth, a
considerable art collection of Dogs playing poker, and five children on
government assistance, yet he made four hundred thousand in two weeks on his
first real estate purchase.' I've got so much love to give but only twenty dollars. In a just world the inventors at Max and Gail would have to go down on their
wives five days a week. Then maybe they'd find an alternative to vinegar. My family has always been kind of subversive. Like my Uncle
Lenny. He was arrested for plotting to assassinate the President. Not that he
was politically active. It was an attempt to assassinate the President of the
Hair Club for Men, Sy Sperling. My uncle was a troubled man but not very
ambitions as far as assassins go. He wasn?t trying to end hunger or world
conflict. He just got a bad count on his Rogaine and wanted someone to
suffer.
When your cup runneth over, it's probably time to get a
bigger cup I'm half German and half Russian Jew, so I believe in the
complete annihilation of the Aryan race. Actually, I think they should be
hauled off to 'entertainment' camps where they're forced to listen to old
vaudeville routines. It doesn't sound that horrible but some of those jokes are
from the Jurassic period. I'm all in favor of drug testing. If you don't test them,
how do you know if they're any good?
What if all religious conflicts were settled with bowling
tournaments? I'm not saying it wouldn't be stupid. I'm just saying it wouldn't
be any stupider than any other holy war I can think of. And it wouldn't even
have to be bowling. We could have mud-wrestling tournaments, dwarf tossing
competitions, pie-eating contests, or even lawn darts.
Whoever had the better god would win through
divine intervention. Hell, we could have monster truck rallies, beer chugging
contests, a Pillsbury bake off, or professional skeet shooting matches.
Alright, it was just an idea.
He was so full of shit he had to use a hot air balloon as an
enema bag.
I remember being stranded in the southwest once when my car
broke down. I had to walk five miles to a gas station. When I came upon it, it
was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, silhouetted against a painted sun
in a cloudless sky, not merely because I needed a drink, but because I had a case of the shits and had to
find a crapper before I made in my pants. I'll never forget that day in August.
Or was it July? I really don?t remember anymore. It's all kind of cloudy now.
Maybe I dreamed the whole thing up. I've been telling Slater how the Jehovah's witnesses and
telemarketers are actually working for the government, trying to collect
information on people like me, but he doesn't seem to understand. I'm beginning to really wonder about him. My cousin experimented with the gay lifestyle, but said it
was just too much of a pain in the ass. I had another existential crisis today after calling
technical support and getting a prerecorded message. After four phone calls and
twenty minutes I just gave up and bought another computer. I hate those
messages: "If you've just bought our new 'P445' and want to know about
your warranty, press one. If you're having a problem logging on to our customer
support web site, press two. If you've just bought a gun and plan on using it
on yourself, press 3. If you wish to speak with a salesperson?" I called the Psychic Connection again, last night. A lady
told me I was on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown. Two-ninety nine a
minute for that? I could have told her that myself. And why did she ask for my
credit card number anyway? Couldn?t she get it by reading my mind? I've been having a re-occurring nightmare about a rodeo
clown raping an elephant, then performing an insane little dance with a midget,
while "Deutschland, Deutschland Uber Alles" is playing in the
background. I don't know what it all means, but I've got to stop eating Mexican
food before bed. The Psychic Connection went out of business. Who could have
predicted that? They didn't. They never saw it coming. Who am I fooling, they
couldn't see an elephant coming if they were jerking him off. I'm really starting to worry about Slater now. I was telling
him how mimes and geriatric patients in electric wheel chairs have been following
me around the city, but he got a really funny look in his eyes. I think the
stress is really getting to him. I broke down and cried at the dry cleaners after they ruined
a new shirt by using too much starch. The manager was very comforting, but somehow,
I got the feeling he was afraid of me. I decided to stop shaving today, but then, after carefully
considering the matter, decided to just shave the right side of my face as a
protest against the atrocities in the dry cleaning industry. I decided to bring a Big Wheel to work so I'll have
something to ride around during lunch hour. The other employees are looking at
me kind of funny, but it's probably because my legs are too big for the pedals,
and Fischer-Price never intended it to be driven by a grown man. But it's just
a matter of time before I get the hang of it. And I really feel like I'm on the
verge of a breakthrough. Looking back on my life, it reminds me of that quote by
Darwin, or was it Frank Stalone, when he said "Whatever doesn't kill you
makes you stronger." They say it's
always darkest before the dawn, but I really don't know what I'm going to do,
although I've been thinking of taking up basket weaving. My wife wound up running away with an aluminum siding
salesman, after all. What an idiot. Everyone knows that aluminum siding
decreases the value of your house. My daughter has started her second semester at Harvard, and
is living with a militant lesbian from the accounting department of a big legal
firm. I saw her at Easter time and she looked really happy. I think that
accountant has been a good influence on her. She seems to be bathing regularly
now. If only the good die young, then what does that
say about old people?
I'm
working on a new book called, 'Remedial Education for Dummies.' Actually,
I used to work with retarded people. Back when I had a job at the Division of
Motor Vehicles. Before that, I worked with the emotionally disturbed - when I
had a job at the post office.
I
was studying for an exam with a coworker the other day. I examined her for
breast cancer and she examined me for testicular cancer.
Have you ever noticed that if someone brings up
the subject of prostitution around guys, their answer is always the same, 'I
don't have to pay for it.' In fact, I've never meet a guy who admitted ever
going to a prostitute Well, SOMEBODY'S keeping these women in business. Is
their some really horny rich guy in Utah that travels a lot? Who's paying for
all those fake furs and gaudy jewelry?
I've never understand the phrase criminal
lawyer. Isn't that being redundant?
Is he
really that insecure? Is he like a
nagging parent complaining about his ungrateful children?
