Thursday, April 28, 2011

Donuts, Comedy and Jesus

About three weeks ago, I got that old itch that I get every few years where I'm compelled to complete the list of things I wanted to do when I was a kid. The list included such glamorous activities as Working at Dunkin Donuts, which I did in High School. I figured you could take the donuts home with you at the end of the night instead of throwing them away, and to be honest, what kid wouldn't want a 50 gallon industrial garbage bag full of donuts? I also wanted to be a Reverend like Reverend Jim on Taxi, by getting the title out of the back of a magazine rather than in the Jesus sense - I checked that off the list in college when my friend Matt showed me ULC.org. I also briefly wanted to attach a hang glider to a mountain bike and ride it down a hill and fly away, but I had to scratch that off the list once I heard about physics, and I'm not so sure I want to do that anymore, anyway.

Surprisingly, riding a motorcycle and being an awesome rock star didn't appear on the list until later in life, and those too have been checked off. This left one lonely little item: Become a Stand Up Comedian. As a kid in the 80's and early 90's I used to stay up late and watch Evening at the Improv and think: I want to do that. Every few years I get the itch, but never really follow through with it - playing in a band always made it easy not to pursue that.

But about two or three weeks ago I got that itch again, and started writing jokes - a lot. Then yesterday at about 10 am, out of nowhere, I got a wild hair up my ass, said Fuck It, and decided that I should go to the open mic down at Joker's Wild in New Haven that night. Woefully unprepared, I threw away almost everything I had written, relying only one bit about texting Jesus, one memory from high school and the Awesomecicles story. I went on at about 12:30 and bombed in front of a dwindling, all-laughed-out crowd of about twenty, which consisted mostly of other amateur comedians, the host and the bartender.

But fuck it, right? I recorded it and listened to it on the way home - I wasn't nearly as bad as I thought I was, albeit I had no pacing, timing, or really any jokes. I was relying heavily on delivery, but I botched that, too. Proudly, though, I can say that I didn't tell one dick joke. Sadly, dick jokes are my wheel house...

So in summation, I will be doing that again, it will be less painful next time, and I have finally completed the list of things I wanted to do as a kid. Oh, and next time, there will be dick jokes...

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

How to Do Sex to Someone You Love

Intercourse can be a wonderful and intimate behavior do to someone you love - it can be a nice way to say "Hello," or just a simple way to show appreciation for a job well done. Sex can be done as an apology, but if you're not very good at it or you are not welcome to the sex you are attempting, it can be cause for apology! For some, it can also be an clever and industrious way to increase personal possessions or supplement income. To many, doing love is considered the classy and romantic way to wake someone in the morning! With this selection of advice, you too can be the intercourse aficionado.

Being limber is a primary concern. The risk of pulling a muscle during the act of love doing is high, especially for those who are overweight, elderly or out of shape. By definition, doing sex is a high impact, aerobic activity, and therefore should be attempted with a warmed-up body - there will be a lot of violent thrusting, especially if it's the first time, if you are out of practice, or if your partner is surprised.

Pick a location suitable to the sex you intend to do. For romantic occasions, surround yourself with soft surfaces such as a sandy beach, tempurpedic furniture or a pile of freshly raked leaves or horse hair. If the encounter is going to be brief, ensure that you are in a questionable area like a forest or gas station bathroom - you'll likely be standing throughout. Parking structures and downtown are to be avoided, particularly if your partner doesn't expect the sex to be done to them, as this may create a hostile environment and possible litigation.

Set the mood by choosing easily removable attire such as a tear-away track suit, and apply cologne or perfume to taste. Lighting candles, while a considerable fire hazard, can enhance the moment. The sex that you do should be like a song performed by the Pixies - soft, loud, soft, loud, soft, loud. To achieve maximum sex, do this until the event is completed. Do sex to many, do sex often, and do always sex!

Under certain circumstances, doing sex can be illegal - check with local law enforcement and describe in detail the sex you intend to do. Intercourse is known to cause complications in otherwise simple interactions. Use caution when doing surprise sex, because it can often be confused with unwanted sex, which is illegal. Depending on the number of participants, broadcasting the sex over the internet may be considered to be in bad taste, and is to be avoided. Remember to use a safe word when doing non-standard sex. Sex with minors is to be avoided as they are either wearing hard hats or too young. Doing sex in public places, while thrilling due to the possibility of being caught, is not an acceptable way to achieve maximum romance. 

Monday, April 25, 2011

There were No Bunnies this Easter

There is an infestation of hares in my neighborhood, and we are on the brink of being overrun. Every night as I lay my head down on my pillow, I hear them out in my yard, hopping smugly, and leaving behind piles of little black capers. They're arranged and distributed evenly like crop circles, evidence that these little bastards mean to mock me.

I won't take this lying down, oh ho, not me! Late at night I send my dog out with specific orders in German to grab them and shake vigorously, but as the old saying goes, that dog won't hunt. I attached a plastic statue of an owl to the end of a tall wrought iron pole and mounted it to my deck as a last ditch effort to gain a tactical advantage and instill fear in their tiny feral hearts - but this was met with that arrogant, blank rabbit stare, and has inspired them to only infest harder. The squirrels, in a vulgar display of open defiance have begun taunting me by leaving piles of chewed acorn shells at the owl's feet. I am this close to heading to the sporting section of WalMart and picking out a starter rifle - the kind you can discharge within city limits without much resistance.

But then came Easter. Now I stand on the edge of my deck late at night and the rabbits are gone. Where did they go? Were they ravaged by the pale fox that stalks the neighborhood? Were they turned to stew by the local poor? I can only hope. But my real concern is that some dad with a soft spot in his heart and a very young daughter put out a Havaheart trap and caught himself an Easter present - bringing these rabid little beasts into his house where they will surely bite the help and incur thousands in punitive damages in civil court, reinforcing the dumb greed cycle.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

The Story of Easter

The idea of a Zombie Jesus who stalks one random Saturday night every Spring looking for fresh Christians to feast upon, dropping little, colorful egg-shaped hunks of his own soured and rotten Jesus-flesh for small children to find and eat the following Sunday is, to say the least, only a little bit disturbing. Add to that a Night of the Lepus breaking and entering scavenger hunt staring the demented rabbit from Donnie Darko, and the mythology becomes just plain silly.

Here's how it really went down:

Some two thousand years ago there was a guy called Jesus. Imagine a mix between The Dude in The Big Lebowski and Matthew McConaughey - generally a piece loving, abs-rocking party boy. Jesus and his posse tried to overthrow the financial corruption in their time in much the same way Fonzie might have on Happy Days.

In response to this flagrant misbehavior, The Man came down on our hero, and hard. One of Jesus' homies sold him out, and he was tried for war crimes. The Man - 1, The Jesus - 0. They even put him up on a cross as if to say to the other party boys: I got you all in check. It is in this way that Jesus died for some sins.

Jesus' posse, having seen his corpse wink mischievously, stole his body and hid it in a cave. A few weeks or months later, Jesus woke up from his bummer-coma, stretched, and sought out his posse. Having reconvened, they threw a wonderful party with plentiful fruits and breads and delicious meats and wine - oh, was there wine! This party went on for several days, but unbeknownst to the posse, he had died late on the first night, having slipped on a banana peel and suffering a severe brain hemorrhage.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Thunderpuss, Houdini Cat

I crept slowly and carefully down the staircase leading to old fieldstone basement, being sure not to make any sudden movements or sharp noises. I my heart I knew this would be the end of me, that vicious beast Thunderpuss always insists on having the last laugh, but still, I had to make my move. I heard a forlorned Mow off in the distance. Then, under my feet, a stair creaked. I turned and tried to run, but it was too late - she was coming right for me, lunging through the air and shooting lasers out of her ass.

I ducked, then tried to jump over the crude barrier we set up in case it came down to this and she came for us, but caught my leg. She stalked me like a gazelle, sizing me up, planning her next move, hissing. I was trapped. I looked around for an escape route or any sort of weapon. I grabbed a camping chair and tried to tame her, shouting; "Back you foul beast! You can't eat me, you'll starve for sure!" but she swatted the chair out of my hands and I knew I was a goner. I backed up slowly, but I was cornered - officially corned. She descended upon me with razor sharp claws, and what pointy teeth she had left.

They say that the common house cat will pick your bones clean within an hour of your death, and show no remorse because of it. How's that for glib? Fortunately I escaped unscathed last night, and live to fight another day. But I know somewhere in my house a big cat is stalking, waiting, remembering...

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Polly-O Al Fresco

Yesterday morning, through the gray and damp ether of a Monday morning, I stumbled upon a grossly accurate metaphor for America. True Patriots will surely agree with this, though if you have anything less than the righteous notion of what this country can be in your blood, you will surely be offended.

While walking Django I veered from my usual course in search of what little adventure could be found at six a.m. Passing an old cape or raised ranch, through the fog and fumes of the early commuter traffic which Jenny is aggressively and angrily a part of, I saw the stump of a diseased old maple that had been removed some years ago. On it was a small chimney of bricks placed to hold a small, weather-beaten and sun-bleached flag which stood no higher than four feet tall. Haphazardly placed against the front side of the stump was, and still in it's original wrapper and in perfect condition, a string cheese. It's probably still there, I'll have to check...

So that's it - we have been reduced to a Monday morning suburban string cheese cast upon the lawn of another generation's faded dream. How did we end up here? More importantly, how does dairy end up on the lawn? Was it all just a coincidence, or something more?

Friday, April 15, 2011

Fat and Happy

Last night Jenny and I investigated Fat and Happy, a new restaurant that has replaced the Ninety Nine on the Berlin Turnpike in Newington. This was an interesting proposition because in the few short weeks that the restaurant has been open, it seems to have sported the same clientele as the Ninety Nine, which is to say, there's no reason to subject myself to such tomfoolery. But curiosity got the better of us and we went anyway.

As we walked up I noticed that the people leaving the restaurant were fat and sad. Perhaps this place wouldn't live up to it's name; but would it be in a good way or a bad way?

Inside, their seating was overwhelmed so we were offered a table in the Lounge. I typically enjoy eating in the bar, but their crude attempt to up-sell the experience ruined it for me, taking away that relaxed, casual vibe and leaving me with the feeling that they were trying to pull a fast one.

The Lounge was classy enough on first glance, familiar even. But before long I realized what I recognized - it had the feeling of a darkened airport bar, filled with road weary travelers and chewed up salesmen. Miserable businessmen reeking of the kind of fetid desperation you might find in an warn out old shoe. This was not a good sign.

The food was unremarkable, over-priced, and served on inconvenient and difficult plates. Pass.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Reservoir Tip

I walked up to the Information desk and asked "So, where do you keep all the babies?" The old woman behind the desk frowned, unamused, and asked who we were there to see. Some friends had just made one and Jenny and I were on a mission looking for proof. It was toward the end of visiting hours and the halls were mostly empty. We were led to another floor, down a series of perpendicular corridors, through several electronic checkpoints and eventually to the room where the mother and child were kept.

The baby was definitely real, I could tell by the subtle waves of breathing and occasional cry, but she looked impossibly small wrapped in the tiny blanket. It was all I could do not to hold the child by her feet and measure and weigh her for comparison with various astrological and Mayan birth charts. At the time it seemed inappropriate and thought it might not go over well in the maternity ward... I was probably right.

The child was equipped with a mesmerizing hat - it was a tiny beanie with a reservoir tip. What could that be for, I thought? My extensive medical knowledge leaves out any explanation of what type of goo might be launched from the back of a screaming baby's head. Perhaps it's there to protect the nurses?

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

History Eraser Button


In the Space Madness episode of the Ren and Stimpy show, Ren introduces Stimpy to the the History Eraser Button, tells him to guard it and Not to push it, which of course he does. Apparently our DVR has a history eraser button and pushed it all by itself sending Jenny into a whirlwind of rage, taking squinty-eyed revenge on no less than two Indian call center goons, and eventually, but it's still yet to be determined, securing us with some unforeseen discount in consolation for our losses.

And hard losses they were. We had no less than one hundred movies cued up on that puppy, ready to watch. Now AT&T is sending some doe-eyed lummox to sniff around our house and gather intel - I think they fear a broad sweeping revenge plot a-la Jenny, which is still a very real possibility, but not likely as their call centers are in India and therefore out of American jurisdiction.

Although that evil little box may have meant us harm and did bring down on us an oppressively traumatic emotional pain, I must admit that I feel in some small way relieved - for it is Spring, and what better time to start fresh, wipe the slate clean and free ourselves from the Albatross of mediocrity.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Glass Half Empty? Shut It Down!

Tonight at midnight, the government may or may not shut down. This is not Scary, and should not induce Fear - it is simply a dick-measuring game of chicken being played between the Democrats and the Republicans, at the negligent expense of Us, where they're battling to see in which way they will be screwing us for the rest of the year.

Sure, it will effect anyone who draws non-Social Security income from Uncle Sam or likes to engage in illicit activities in the shady groves and lush underbrush of our National Parks or - better still - in the dark corners of our Courthouses. But those with filthy habits will find other places to lurk and Social Security will be back up and running in no time - so to quote the great Alfred E. Newman; "What, me worry?"

The root of this hogwash seems to be in the fact that the Republicans are being out Republicaned by Tea Partiers, who are calling for broader sweeping budget cuts - but again, this is all moot because what they're really arguing about are outdated and arcane philosophies about Women's health and air quality. But while our Congressmen hide in back rooms palming each others balls as John Boehner looks on with a tear in his eye, take comfort in the fact that when the Government does shut down tonight, at least the paychecks of the egregious bastards who got us into this pickle will go uninterrupted.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Part 2 of Bad Advice #1

Open Discourse - that's what this is all about. Here's a response from yesterday's Bad Advice:
Maxx,
First, thank you for feeling slight angst. Your answer did match the level of angst I was feeling about the situation myself. Never saw tire valve core remover and Alka-Seltzer coming but it surely had an
Office Space kind of feel to it. We most certainly appreciate the bad advice it made us laugh. And you may want to anticipate finding a breaking story on the local 5 o'clock news.

However, I could use some more bad advice. The company blackmailing me into working has a requirement to drug screen... Yes, let that sink in. They are black mailing, AND requiring a drug test. And the drug testing kit has arrived via FedEx. And I must drop it off at the testing center in which I must pay for out of my own pocket. Now all the moral fiber in my body says pee dirty and I'm off the hook, however what about unemployment? Could your next bit of bad advice make mention of a Molotov cocktail?

Whether you respond to this or not. I did want to share with you the on going absurdity and truly can not wait for child labor laws to be en vogue once again.

-Anonymous
Anonymous,
You are in a unique position - the ball is in your court, as they say in sports, which is kind of misleading because if the ball isn't in your court, it's out of bounds, and that's not really the spirit of the phrase... but I digress. The ball is in your court, and you can take this opportunity to create an advantage. Give the bastards what they want.

The first thing you need to do is procure another FedEx shipping pak from your local FedEx Shipping Center. You'll want the sealable plastic one - not a paper or cardboard shipper. Here's where you could go one of two ways - either stick to the moral fibers you spoke of and piss dirty, or stick it to science and find a pregnant woman or dog to pee for you. This will ensure that the pee is, scientifically, not yours. I have a feeling that the source of the sample will be moot, though.

Open the kit and immediately discard any instructions. Secure the sample, from whichever source you choose, in the provided cup. If the kit doesn't come with a cup this is fine - simply use a salad dressing size tupperware container or a babyfood jar with a lid. You'll probably want to wear rubber kitchen gloves, as this will get messy. Regardless of the type of container, when filling it you'll want to make sure you get a little bit of pee on the outside. It shouldn't be soaked with piss, mind you, just misted - in much the same way one might add a whisper of sweet vermouth to an otherwise dry martini. When complete, securely fasten the lid. Place the specimen in the FedEx mailer, and ship it to the hiring manager*.

For added professionalism, you may want to put a strip of masking tape on the side of the container so that you may label it with your name using a permanent marker.

Good luck with that.
-Maxx

* I would be remiss if I didn't mention that FedEx is very adamant about not shipping liquids in the FedEx Paks. Disregard this rule.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Bad Advice #1 - Prison, Liquor and Alka-Seltzer

Nice little glut of Bad Advice requests yesterday. As the Mayor of Bad Decision Country, I shall crack my knuckles and cut to the bone of these pressing issues...

Dear Maxx,
As a single woman full of conflict, I ask you if I should switch from dick to chick.
Signed,
Slightly Dykey in New Haven 

Dykey,
Let me open by suggesting straight off that if you're only slightly dykey, going full-on bo is probably not for you - the use of slightly implies the kind of air of whimsy that is often associated with attention-starved party dykes. This is not suggested as it would cheapen you and your conflict.

And seeing as you are full of conflict, one might think that going off to war might be a smart move, but this is also wrong, because while war is a great place for conflict, it is certainly the last place that conflict ever gets resolved and is therefore not suggested.

Before you swear off dicks all together, take a moment and reflect on all the good times you may or may not have had with them and remember, for every time someone points a dick at you, there are two balls pointing right back at them.

Perhaps the right move for you would be to sign up for a prison pen pal - look for one labeled "violent offender," as they tend to be particularly passionate in their endeavors. These fine specimens, kept under lock and key, are there for you - always waiting for the curly F's and exotic lowercase M's of your penmanship. And if you keep at it long enough, you may even get to participate in a series of terrifying, high-intensity conjugal visits. This is a sure-fire way to score some premium, off-the-market meat - real marriage material! Of course if this fails, perhaps now would be a good time to invest in twenty or so pussycats.

Good luck with that.
-Maxx

Is robbing a liquor store a reasonable way to come up with the money to buy a new computer or should i just slowly save my penny's?
-Risk 

Risk,
I see where you're going with this and while I agree that robbing a liquor store is the right place to start, I think you're loosing sight of the big picture here...

First thing you're going to want to do is go down to WalMart and buy any old rifle or whatever kind of firearm they sell that you don't need a permit or to wait seven days for. Purchase this in conjunction with a ski mask - one of those sketchy ones with holes for your eyes and mouth. Now you're ready for action. Load the rifle, grab a duffel bag and put on the ski mask and some nondescript dungarees and shoes - you don't want to wear anything flashy as it might inspire jealousy in the cashier. Enter the liquor store and immediately discharge the weapon at the ceiling above the clerk's head. This will imbue the clerk with a healthy respect for the situation. Now here's where I suggest you divert from your plan: don't go for the cash - grab booze. Stick to the high potency stuff, you'll need a lot of it for the next step.

Once you've made your getaway and stored your treasure, go down to the local Best Buy and apply for a job. During the interview, make sure you look good and let them know that you'll do any old menial job. Once hired, use the booze you stole to go to work drunk and labor tirelessly. In just a mere five years, give or take, you should be able to save up enough, and in combination with your sweet employee discount, score a really bitchin' computer.

Good luck with that.
-Maxx

You're unemployed, you're searching for a job, you've found one that will grossly under pay you and that you're are clearly over qualified for, which the employer has even made mention of in the interview. This new job would pay slightly better than unemployment but with unemployment you are guaranteed at minimum of 72 weeks of that shit...and you could still look for something better in the mean time.
Your finally offered the job after a 2 week wait and you mention to this company that you are concerned about the pay. The potential employer reminds you that if you do not take the job offered to you that they can report you to unemployment for denying work and you will be kicked off. What would Maxx do? -Anonymous 

Anonymous,
Well, I have to admit, this one pained me a little because it tickled my angst sensor and really activated my delicate sensibilities - but do not fear, I have settled down and re-focused.

The first thing you want to do, before accepting or rejecting the job is to show up unannounced during business hours. Take a handful of ephedrine or other energizing over the counter weight loss drugs before hand to ensure full alertness. Bring a tire valve core remover, a flat-head screwdriver, Alka-Seltzer tablets and some bolt cutters with you.

First identify the hiring manager's car and remove all the valves on the tires using the valve core remover and flat head screwdriver. This will ensure that the car needs to be towed to a tire shop on a flat bed. Then enter the office - you've already interviewed here, so you should be familiar with the facility. Leave the bolt cutters right outside the front door.

Enter the building. From the moment you pass through the front door, you will be running. Run in the most conspicuous way possible, incoherently shouting about mistresses and tax evasion. One of them will be relevant to someone there.

Find your way to the hiring manager's office. About thirty seconds before you get there, put the Alka-Seltzer in your mouth and crunch down - you want to work up a good foam. But remember, you are coming in hot, so you'll want to account for that when you're calculating your thirty seconds.

Burst into the hiring manager's office and immediately fall to the ground, convulsing and spewing foam. This will upset him/her. Security will finally catch up to you and everyone will be confused. Don't stop convulsing! Wait for them to eventually get there shit together enough to call the EMTs, and when they've mostly left the uncomfortable silence of the room for you to twitch in peace, spring into action again. This time, run out of the building grab the bolt cutters and cut the main power supply to the building and scram. Odds are the job offer will no longer be on the table.

Good luck with that.
-Maxx

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Need Bad Advice?

Do you face an upcoming decision that's weighing heavily on your soul? Are you in a predicament that's grinding your insides to stringy pudding, and there's No Hope? Are the bastards crashing down your door, right now, blood dripping from their chapped lips and murderous intent beaming from their bulging bloodshot eyes?

Look no further! If you need bent, twisted, last-resort advice to help guide you from bad to worse, I'm here for you! As the Mayor of Bad Decision Country, I'm uniquely qualified to upgrade the terror alert level of any nasty little situation, including yours, guaranteed!

Simply post the key details of your predicament in the comments section below and I will provide you with the most thorough, up-to-date, worldly, godawful advice I can muster. Leave it to me - I know how to make your situation worse!

Friday, April 1, 2011

Tectonic Plates, Canned Beans

I figure the best way to show those bastards (goddamnit I won't succumb to your tomfoolery you swine) is to fool your liver and the liver of others. When I leave work today I will immediately head home and pour big glasses for me, Jenny, and our dog Django - we will hide in the basement and drink the tricks away. He-he, lets see those reckless buffoons find me.

But that's neither here nor there, because on a much more important note I must call your attention to some scary and doom-bringing prospects. Chiefly this: due to the sheer magnitude of the quakes in Japan, compounded by the wholesale extraction of fossil fuels from beneath the Earth's crust, a rather large amount of ocean water has seeped through the tectonic plates in the Pacific Ocean and quenched the Earth's core. Although it will take some twenty years for the effects to become critical and more importantly, permanent, be sure of this - there will be a global run on canned beans, peanut butter, jelly, and various underground bunker building materials. It's about to become very chilly, and the Nuclear winds that are blowing this way are going to light up the mighty Redwoods like glow sticks. Har har (4/1).