2009-08-17 - On Our Next Episode . . .
2009-06-12 - RetroReflectionReaction
2009-04-13 - The Me Decade
2009-03-03 - Super Powered Sounds #3
2009-03-02 - Super Powered Sounds #2QUOTES! V.1QUOTES! V.2QUOTES! V.3QUOTES! V.4
Dear S &T #1: Thoraxian Skittle Camping
2005-10-06 - 5:46 p.m.
Eating Unusual Amounts Of: Hummus & Tuna Salad Finger Rolls (not at the same time)
Listening To: The Fiery Furnaces, The Shins, Manu Dibango, America
Quote:"You must know that Tim and I have always looked at you as the Krang to our Bebop and Rocksteady." - Peter
And now we return, after a more than brief hiatus, to another stirring enstallment of . . .
Dear Stuff & Things!!!
Ok, if we must get down to brass tacks, and I don't know of another kind of tack I'd like to get down to than a brass one, the truth is that there's never been an enstallment of "Dear Stuff & Things" before now. There was a relatively embryonic version a looooooong time ago. But that's neither here nor there. Well, I suppose it's rather there, but it's hardly here. Now, those brass tacks I was speaking of earlier? Let's get down to them, no?
Dear Stuff & Things, Hi, I represent a group you may have heard of. We're known as the Church of Latter Day Saints: The Mormons. We make pizza for invalids. We prothelisize our asses all over Utah. And I believe we accosted you outside the The Brick House in Dover a week or so ago. Anyway, we just want to know if you've been praying to God about Joseph Smith lately, that's all! Also, is it true Mormons suck worse than earwigs?! Thanks! Virginal In Salt Lake City
Dear Stuff & Things, Is there such thing as a green bee? Are they more dangerous than regular bees? Either way, how does one trap them? Thanks! Salt Water Drinker
Hey S.W.D., oh good God yes! Green bees exist. Green hornet, anyone? These insects have no lanterns on them, thankfully. The only thing more dangerous than these aquamarine stingboxes are BLUE bees. Man, they are some vindictive sons of bitches. But green bees, yes they exist. And yes, you can trap them. I shall show you how. First, find the green monstrosity. (See Fig. A) Then, trap him and wrap packing tape around all his available exits and douse his hiding spot with WD-40 until he suffocates to . . . DEATH. (See Fig. B) That should just about do it.
Fig A. --
Fig B. --
Well L.D.C., work gets called a lot of things. Diamond Mines, Danger Mouse, Dolphin Mustard, etc. But let's not focus on silly nicknames. Between there and the 7th letter of the alphabet, I've, as of this writing, worked 25 days in a row. Has it been worth it? Um - I guess. I need to make the money to pay off the myriad problems with the Jeep. I need to buy new glasses. I need to pay all these new unexpected bills - full cable, vet, water, etc. I need to be able to afford taking time off for Thanksgiving in New York. I need to be able to afford to go to Fred's wedding (fingers crossed). These next few days are gonna really put me through the ringer. Day - Danger Mouse, Night - the G, all weekend. Rough. But it's worth it. I think. But here's some fun pics from the Diamond Mines to show that at least it's not all doom and gloom and P.I.B.B. 24 hours a day.
Simply put Sap, yes, they are your kryptonite.
Dear Thorax, Man oh man, do I feel for you. And I can think of a few friends of mine that could probably sympathize with you quite a bit too. A friend of mine, Olly, was always making us eat dishes that his sister concocted. Many times we'd come across such "delicacies" as helgramites, shards of aluminum, blasting caps, pine cones, etc. Unfortunately, Olly would lose all sense of logic and reality when his sister was concerned so we never dared bring up how horrible her actual dishes were. Eventually, we ended up just breaking off contact with Olly, simply so we didn't have to stomach his sister's inane "faux-mysterious for the sake of being mysterious" persona. So far, so good . . .
Dear Painter Smurf, Yes.
Dear Stuff & Things, I heard you went up for a racous time of Vegan camping with the Y's last Saturday in Maine. Is this true? And is it true that you didn't eat meat, didn't drink, and didn't gamble?! Please fill me in! Signed, Quentin Quire
Dear Q.Q., you're only 1 for 4 I am afraid. All you got right was that I was indeed there. I most certainly ate meat, definitely drank, and due to that evil devil Left Right Center, I gambled. And as if me gambling wasn't bad enough. [Especially since I had sworn it off long ago.] But I bankrolled Hayley's first foray into gambling. I'm so losing my chance at a one-way ticket to Heaven. But despite the fact that my day started at 6 with a dawn run, pre-breakfast lawn mowing, working all day at the mines, and getting lost in Saco with Hayley on the way to the party, we still had a great time, and as usual, whenever Alex and bottles of liquor are involved, I get my ass handed to me by the booze fairy. And I slept in a tent for the first time since . . . well, it's been a long time. Let's just say that.
Dear Mr. Parker, thoughtful question, even if it was planted. For as your alter-ego, Spider-Man, you know full well that I am in possession of the sweetest Atomic sandals that you ever have seen. They were a parting gift from the Atomic rep after the ski/snowboard clinic we had on Tuesday at the Mines. (No Hayley, a ski/snowboard clinic is not where sick skis go to for medicine) I got a sweet Atomic t-shirt too. But nothing beats the stuffing out of these sandals. Not even if the stuffing is SAUSAGE stuffing. Don't believe me?! Well you SHOULD. And if you don't, well why don't you just cast your eyes in a downward type of motion!
Hey Orko, what up sweetness? Still doing up your magic shit for Teela and the gang? You always had my back O, even in the bad old days. And I'll always remember you for that. Bowl cuts be damned. Well, to answer your q, we're actually bleeding into Day 26 as this entry gets longer and longer. How do I do it? Not well. The two goals I'm shooting for are Halloween, which will be Day 50, and the Monday of Thanksgiving week, which will be Day 71. Or maybe it's 70. I'm too tired to check right now. The point is, my own meat-table-ism just isn't doing the trick anymore. So I've been resorting to Red Bull and assorted other energy drinks (read: not cocaine). One I tried last Sunday, after all that camping lunacy, in order to stay up and serve the little moppets of downtown Portsmouth, was this gigantic new can of Jolt called "Jolt: Cherry Bomb". Now, if you know me at all Orko, you know that I was taken in by a.) the Cherry flavor, b.) the shimmering silvery magenta packaging, c.) did I mention it was packed with about 7,047 joules of caffiene? Like the Mormons didn't hate me enough already, right? But I'm thinking you're still having trouble truly envisioning the enormity of the massive Jolt I drank. Is it bigger than a bread box? Pretty much. Bigger than Kenichi? Nearly.
Dear M.M. & the F.B., I will try to make this easy, and yet somewhat of a challenge at the same time. I hid your glasses somewhere in the store and nowhere near your department. That's really the only hints I can give you. Ok, I'll show you a picture too, but I hope it doesn't give too much away.
Dear Locke, I'm not really sure what your question is here. Is it healthy for me to talk to myself in the shower? Out loud? I don't know. No more healthy than getting in feuds with inanimate objects, which I seem to do on a daily basis. I try to be able to know which way the wind is blowing. But sometimes I just don't know. So I'm going to the carnival tonight. On desolation row.
Oh Pandora, you minx! First you open that box, then you kick ass as a dungeon boss in Kid Icarus, and now you're writing my letter of foot loosery and fancy freeness. I can only answer as gentlemanly as possible, you beautific gas bag you! Firstly, do I ever have a scheme for you! I mean, besides ruining everyone else's lives while they sit there and grin and take it. You silly girl! Oops, bad word choice. You're not silly (for definitelys) and you're
Is that it? Are those all the questions? This was a lot of work for some sort of first installment. Damn, I can't wait to work all fucking weekend. And if you read this, I'm just going to assume my invitation got lost in the mail. And if you read this . . . I don't even know what to say anymore.
It's been real,
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