Predator Press
[LOBO]
Sorry gang ... home sick today.
Death is at my bedside, slicing onions and carrots into a big pot ... awful nice of the guy to go out of his way and cook and all ...
I can't do this "doctor" crap again ... I hate being sick only slightly more than I hate being well.
[*pout*]
Phoebe, will you please come over and say nice things again?
God is mad at me.
Tuesday
Fear of Flying
Predator Press
[LOBO]
I’m dreaming.
I’m standing in and endless snowy field.
Santa and his full compliment of reindeer slide to a deliberate, graceful halt beside me, and Santa dismounts his sleigh. He's smiling.
I never see the uppercut coming.
Or the jab. Or the next uppercut ...
Tossing me up on his big bag of toys, he commands the reindeer to take to the sky once more.
***
“Ho ho ho,” he cries. “Come now LOBO, let me show you the True Meaning of Christmas!”
Waking slowly I sit up, and a thin blood icicle snaps off my nose.
Ahead, I can see powerful beasts galloping mightily to pull us into the sky, their breath streaming behind them as they arc across the full moon. Peering down over Santa’s shoulder through my swelling eyes, I can see the tiny sparkling lights of Gary, Indiana beneath us. Overwhelmed by the sensation of flight, I stretch out my arms.
And that’s when I strangle that fat fuck …
[LOBO]
I’m dreaming.
I’m standing in and endless snowy field.
Santa and his full compliment of reindeer slide to a deliberate, graceful halt beside me, and Santa dismounts his sleigh. He's smiling.
I never see the uppercut coming.
Or the jab. Or the next uppercut ...
Tossing me up on his big bag of toys, he commands the reindeer to take to the sky once more.
“Ho ho ho,” he cries. “Come now LOBO, let me show you the True Meaning of Christmas!”
Waking slowly I sit up, and a thin blood icicle snaps off my nose.
Ahead, I can see powerful beasts galloping mightily to pull us into the sky, their breath streaming behind them as they arc across the full moon. Peering down over Santa’s shoulder through my swelling eyes, I can see the tiny sparkling lights of Gary, Indiana beneath us. Overwhelmed by the sensation of flight, I stretch out my arms.
And that’s when I strangle that fat fuck …
Monday
Swag
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Here we go again.
Every year, the Predator Press mailroom is ground to a standstill by the brutal onslaught of X-mas presents from you people.
Well, it’s pissing me off.
I’ve already got tons of Cheetos, stuffed cats, cashiers checks, Pacific islands, and loan applications. --And frankly, the Prozac isn’t funny anymore.
Plus, you’re making me feel guilty that we didn’t get you anything. Have you any idea how far behind you are collectively on Predator Press subscriptions, fees and dues? Goddamn it, Ethan is so broke he’s eating fish eggs! (Ethan seems pretty cool with this and all, but Phil hates that crap.)
And this year marked the final, final death of my beloved Chick Magnet.
I’m already upset, and here you go screwing up our mailroom again.
Well thanks a lot. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Why don't you go pick on some other glorious Empire with your savage and selfish "generosity" and "goodwill" this year? How about, for example, sticking it to the March of Dimes for a change?
That'll show those jerks ...
[LOBO]
Here we go again.
Every year, the Predator Press mailroom is ground to a standstill by the brutal onslaught of X-mas presents from you people.
Well, it’s pissing me off.
I’ve already got tons of Cheetos, stuffed cats, cashiers checks, Pacific islands, and loan applications. --And frankly, the Prozac isn’t funny anymore.
Plus, you’re making me feel guilty that we didn’t get you anything. Have you any idea how far behind you are collectively on Predator Press subscriptions, fees and dues? Goddamn it, Ethan is so broke he’s eating fish eggs! (Ethan seems pretty cool with this and all, but Phil hates that crap.)
And this year marked the final, final death of my beloved Chick Magnet.
I’m already upset, and here you go screwing up our mailroom again.
Well thanks a lot. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Why don't you go pick on some other glorious Empire with your savage and selfish "generosity" and "goodwill" this year? How about, for example, sticking it to the March of Dimes for a change?
That'll show those jerks ...
Sunday
Plasma
Predator Press
[LOBO]
I forgot my mom reads this blog.
The whole ‘Ox Nuts’ debacle alone was bad enough … but when she found out that her 150 pound bundle of joy watches porn … wow.
Now I’m grounded from TV for life.
I hate everybody.
[LOBO]
I forgot my mom reads this blog.
The whole ‘Ox Nuts’ debacle alone was bad enough … but when she found out that her 150 pound bundle of joy watches porn … wow.
Now I’m grounded from TV for life.
I hate everybody.
Free
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Taking Phoebe's advice and going out wasn't such a bad idea after all.
And let me have said, once and for all, that going to bars and not drinking is the slickest predatory move ever devised. Sure it’s a long drive and like eight bucks for a Pepsi, but the with your head clear and eyes open, chasing tail is like shooting blind, drunken, promiscuous fish in a barrel of terrible music ... with a Howitzer. I can’t believe I’ve never thought of it before! In the space of a few hours, this chick I never met before leaves her panties in the car, pounces me in a cheap motel, and now wonders why I have "irrational insecurities over our relationship prospects".
[*sigh*]
My plan to quit smoking hasn't really made much headway, however. This one last vice will undoubtedly be the most difficult of all. Everything I do makes associations with it: driving, working, writing ... I'm thinking about spending some time out of town over the holidays and tackling it then.
But for now, I'm more worried about the bills. It's not that I can't afford to pay them, it's the fact that I'm sick and stuffy; the voice-activated services in place are getting thrown off by my sniffing, sneezing and coughing. It took an hour to do the gas bill ... and now I'm debating whether to even try Comcast ...
Can’t somebody cure this? My cold is fucking up commerce now ...
[LOBO]
Taking Phoebe's advice and going out wasn't such a bad idea after all.
And let me have said, once and for all, that going to bars and not drinking is the slickest predatory move ever devised. Sure it’s a long drive and like eight bucks for a Pepsi, but the with your head clear and eyes open, chasing tail is like shooting blind, drunken, promiscuous fish in a barrel of terrible music ... with a Howitzer. I can’t believe I’ve never thought of it before! In the space of a few hours, this chick I never met before leaves her panties in the car, pounces me in a cheap motel, and now wonders why I have "irrational insecurities over our relationship prospects".
[*sigh*]
My plan to quit smoking hasn't really made much headway, however. This one last vice will undoubtedly be the most difficult of all. Everything I do makes associations with it: driving, working, writing ... I'm thinking about spending some time out of town over the holidays and tackling it then.
But for now, I'm more worried about the bills. It's not that I can't afford to pay them, it's the fact that I'm sick and stuffy; the voice-activated services in place are getting thrown off by my sniffing, sneezing and coughing. It took an hour to do the gas bill ... and now I'm debating whether to even try Comcast ...
Can’t somebody cure this? My cold is fucking up commerce now ...
Resplendent
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Phoebe knocked for like two hours before she figured out that the door was unlocked. And there I was, in all my slothful, indolent glory.
“You have to get up,” she says flatly.
“Why?” I says.
Then there’s this big awkward pause.
“Because it’s not healthy,” she says finally. “You’re wasting away.”
“Wasting away with Hi-Def,” I says. “Now would you please go away? You’re blocking the screen.”
“What are you watching?”
“’Nympho Space Accountants From Sector 6’. It’s a sequel to the timeless classic ‘Horny Babe Outlaws From Sector 5’.” I turn it down with the remote, sighing, “but this one is just riddled with plot holes.”
Moving my bag of Cheetos, she sits at the corner of the bed. “LOBO, we’ve know each other a long time. Fess up. Did Sapphire break your heart?”
“My what?”
"Did Sapphire and Edward, you know, break your heart? It's hard seeing you like this."
I happen to glance at her, and suddenly realize she being sincere.
I press pause on the television. "Look", I says, trying to be comforting. "They do heart transplants all the time. It's like getting stitches now. And I like this one. This little thing has carried me a long way already--"
It was at that moment, in a moment of macho bravado, I thumped my chest.
But instead of the solid resonant thud we expected, there was a soft, sharp crack.
"Fuck!" I says, scowling.
"What was that?" asks Phoebe.
"Well, I'm hoping I just broke my breastbone."
[LOBO]
Phoebe knocked for like two hours before she figured out that the door was unlocked. And there I was, in all my slothful, indolent glory.
“You have to get up,” she says flatly.
“Why?” I says.
Then there’s this big awkward pause.
“Because it’s not healthy,” she says finally. “You’re wasting away.”
“Wasting away with Hi-Def,” I says. “Now would you please go away? You’re blocking the screen.”
“What are you watching?”
“’Nympho Space Accountants From Sector 6’. It’s a sequel to the timeless classic ‘Horny Babe Outlaws From Sector 5’.” I turn it down with the remote, sighing, “but this one is just riddled with plot holes.”
Moving my bag of Cheetos, she sits at the corner of the bed. “LOBO, we’ve know each other a long time. Fess up. Did Sapphire break your heart?”
“My what?”
"Did Sapphire and Edward, you know, break your heart? It's hard seeing you like this."
I happen to glance at her, and suddenly realize she being sincere.
I press pause on the television. "Look", I says, trying to be comforting. "They do heart transplants all the time. It's like getting stitches now. And I like this one. This little thing has carried me a long way already--"
It was at that moment, in a moment of macho bravado, I thumped my chest.
But instead of the solid resonant thud we expected, there was a soft, sharp crack.
"Fuck!" I says, scowling.
"What was that?" asks Phoebe.
"Well, I'm hoping I just broke my breastbone."
Saturday
What’s This?
Predator Press
[LOBO]
While trying to install the television, I was pleased to find I own a tool.
A tool commonly referred to as a “screwdriver”.
This tool, which I had previously mistaken as a fancy cooking utensil, is a steel rod with a four-sided pointed tip used to drive screws. Hence it’s designation: a flathead screwdriver.
Used properly, this item can be held by the silvery thin part and used to bash the screws in with the wider end, also known as the handle.
... but this television sucks ...
[LOBO]
While trying to install the television, I was pleased to find I own a tool.
A tool commonly referred to as a “screwdriver”.
This tool, which I had previously mistaken as a fancy cooking utensil, is a steel rod with a four-sided pointed tip used to drive screws. Hence it’s designation: a flathead screwdriver.
Used properly, this item can be held by the silvery thin part and used to bash the screws in with the wider end, also known as the handle.
... but this television sucks ...
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