I Beg Your Pardon

I pardon puns.
But not non-puns.
Usually people say, 'Pardon the pun,' after saying something that is not at all a pun.
These are the same individuals who say:
"I'm really bad at telling jokes.
So! These two nuns walk into a bar.
No wait...it's raccoons.
These two raccoons walk into a bar..."

A Little Meat on Their Bones

Sure, they're sexy vegetarians.
But nobody's asking the real question here:
Just what is the man's relationship with that goat, exactly?
The answer isn't in his bio.
The woman is opposed to killing animals.
And wearing shirts that have buttons.

Three's Company

Shouldn't it be "The flowers and the bees"?
What do birds have to do with it?
Maybe I just haven't had enough sex to figure it out yet.
My good buddies Peter and Turpin are coming home.
Did I ever tell you about the time with Tupin and the butter?
We used to talk on the phone and look at one another through her kitchen window and my den window.
She would always insist on taking her shirt off for me.
Anyway, show time had just finished.
And I suggested to her that she dip her finger in butter.
And then dip it in suger.
And then eat it.
She seemed skeptical, but I insisted that it was really good.
Eventually she tried it.
Now she does it all of the time.

They're coming home.
Did I mention that?
They've been in some place with camels for a long time now.
Some place hot.
I'll have to be at the airport for when they arrive.
But, for the life of me, I can't decide on what to wear.
I mean, even if I found chaps in time...
...I wouldn't be permitted to wear something assless in an airport.
I was also thinking of some sort of tutu number.
But they saw that just before they left.
Suggestions?

edit: Oh yeah!
I forgot to add this.
Under the 'artists' tab I'm on the same page as Pamela Anderson.
My bio was heavily edited by...somebody.

Writing on the Wall

'Biblical proportions' is just another way of saying 'highly unlikely.'

I vomited early on Sunday morning.
That was the only day this weekend, though.
I drank four beers.
One bottle and three pints.
"So, really you drank six beers.
Cause a pint is like a beer and a half.
Seven beers."
Robert explained this to me yesterday while dogs frolicked around us.
Robert's good at math.
The important thing to realize here is that after vomiting, Avril brought me saltines.

While walking through the mall's skywalk, I noticed that someone had written the following on a support beam:
JESSIE IS THE BEST THING TO EVER HAPPEN TO ME!!
I wrote underneath it:
It won't last.

Speaking of damned relationships, mom and dad recently observed their fortieth anniversary.
I wasn't there.
And I forgot to call.
But it still happened, just the same.

A Band-Aid Solution

I was invited to volunteer for a school's sports' day.
Which I agreed to.
Because classrooms aren't involved with sports' days.
Fields are.
And the staff barbecue was happening later that same afternoon.
So why not?
They asked me to be there for 8:30.
I hung up the phone and then immediately realized that I didn't want to be there for 8:30.
I'd have to get up and shower before then.
And I'd be there for most of the day.
That's a lot of volunteering for anyone.
My generosity only goes as far as it will benefit me and no one else.
So I immediately called back and told them about the blood work I had to get done in the morning.
Which I'd plum forgotten about.
I found myself in my mother's van at 11 the next day.
Tearing up squares of tissue.
Adhering them to my forearm.
Somewhat nervous that I didn't bring enough band-aids with me.
To keep up my miserable lie.
Then I went and had ice cream with the grade fours.

I eventually went to the ball field to watch the grade sevens shotput.
The only interesting ones to watch were those who were maturing faster than their friends.
"Nice try, David."
"Nice try, Laquesha."
"Holy shit, Jeremy!
Good arm, buddy.
Takes the focus off of your acne."
I saw one of the students I would frequently talk to in the hallways.
Because he never seemed to be in class.
Which I liked.
Anyway, he had his jacket zipped up tight to his collar.
And he was wearing a knitted/stocking cap.
So, I said to him, "Gerald, why are you wearing your jacket and toque on a nice day like this?"
To which he replied, "What the fuck's a toque?"

Will Dust 'Til Dawn

My mother-
wait! I think I hear her!-
...
Alright, we're clear.
We're okay.
My mother insists on the importance of dusting.
Avril was under the microscope on Sunday.
Of course, being under the microscope with my family mostly involves talking to dad about the weather.
Besides, she got some boiled corn out of the deal.
Anywords.
Mom suggested I dust before she get here.
In case she were to go into the living room and start lifting up things.
Dusting is the most nonsensical chore there is.
And they have sprays that you buy for it!
I tell my mother that the only houses that need dusting are abandoned ones.
We're still living here.
We move the air around.
Makes as much sense as spritzing hairspray on the lawn.

Here is a recipe for making homemade furniture polish.
It's a little bitter, but it's a wise alternative to buying by the case.

"Extra, Extra! Narcissist Writes About Himself!"

Abandon your boss' daughter at a rave.
It's Friday.

I'm wearing a Hawaiian shirt, and you're all missing it.
I taught at a school during my internship.
One of the teachers at the school recently won the lottery.
I recall her as being rather nice.
But now, since the win and its subsequent televise, I can only assume she was a jerk.
The whole time.

The Telegram article is complete.
I appreciated the Compass article more.
Only because that article was all about me.
Other people tend to make things less about me.
Yes, nothing reminds you of how inarticulate you are like direct quotations of you.

Losing Their Grip

Sure, I could tell you a bunch of things.
But today is yesterday is yesterday is yesterday.
Living in Bay Roberts begins to wear thin.
I get excited when my parents go somewhere at night because it gives me the opportunity to listen to things loudly.
And watch pornography.
I am twelve years old.
It was hard enough the first time 'round.

Cats only stick around with you because they want to avenge the loss of their claws.
What a thing to do to a pet.
Sure, you'd take out a skunk's stink gland.
But it's a 'stink gland'.
Even the skunk probably gets it.
"Wouldn't want to get stuck with me in an elevator," the skunk would say.But a cat's claws?
I mean, Jesus.
Cats are bred to pounce on and shred things.
Anyone reading this who has a de-clawed cat should know:
Your cat would tear your fucking eyes out.
If it only had its claws to do it with.
Then it would sharpen them on the couch.
As you ran around screaming.
Banging into stuff.

We only had to tell each other to 'drive carefully' when cars were new.
Man 1: You're riding in one of those cars?
Man 2: Christ, I've heard of those.
Y'know they require no oats whatsoever to power them.
Man 1: Drive carefully. Because you've never done it before.

These days we have seatbelts.
Driving carefully is for people taking their road tests, and the Amish.
You can never make fun of them enough.

The Wrong Foot

I take baths in Palmolive so's I don't get wrinkly.

If you let your newborn suck on its feet, it may result in an eventual foot fetish.
Speaking of feet, they're gross.
I hate feet.
I hate your feet, I hate my feet, and I hate yer mudder's feet.
I hate feet.
They're functional, sure.
But so are scrotums.
You don't see people at the mall paying Koreans to buff and shine them.
You go to Korea for that.
If it makes you feel any better, I believe that I have the grossest feet out of everyone.
Turpin's are a close second.
You know those people who say they're creationists?
"The finches are as they are because God wants them to be."
Creationists want their children to learn that animals showed up on a giant boat with an old man.
In schools.
They want this taught in schools.
If you're a creationist, and you occasionally pick things up off of the floor with your toes, doesn't that make you an asshole?
Think about it.

Speaking of not needing education, I'm going to practice Pink Floyd's 'The Wall.'

Allow me a Moment to Stripe

Blogger is making me change the design of Tragic Hero.
I'm not doin' it.
If I'm not posting in lime green and orange, I'm not posting.
It's citrus for me, everybody!
It's citrus...

Can we just have the stripe face one way or the other?
I have enough embarassments in my life.
I don't need to swipe my debit card backwards.
'Stripe towards the door,' 'Stripe towards me,' 'Stripe towards you.'
Let's just have the stripe towards something we can all agree on.
Put it on the news.
And be done with it.
You know, in school I always tell kids to "Sound it out," but that only goes so far.
Because 'news' sounded out is 'newz.'
And you could only spell it that way on YTV.
'Stripe towards newz.'
Anyway.

I put a Last Man, Last Continue post in this blog by mistake.
Like one twin trying to eat the other twin.
Did any of you read The Dead Zone?
It wasn't that good.
Can I tell you why it's called 'Last Man, Last Continue'?
Back when games were on the Nintendo and Super Nintendo
(Sega Genesis for you loser kids)
You only had so many continues. And men.
Nothing got quite as tense as when you were faced with your last of each.
During my childhood, if someone uttered these words when you entered the room, you quickly shut up.
Because Brian was terrifying.
In the realm of video games (dank though it is) it sort of makes sense.

My girlfriend pointed out that I had the wrong post in the wrong blog.
I like my girlfriend.
She gives me the confidence I need to cheat on her.

edit: I'm going to leave the Last Man, Last Continue post in here.
Because I'm exercising free speech.
You'll recognize it when you see it.

On the Job

I substituted yesterday.
I had a scheduled prep period.
When you're a sub with a prep you're supposed to seek out administration so that they can stick you somewhere.
Which I'm always hesitant to do.
I'd rather...y'know...sit down.
Because nothing quite beats sitting around and getting paid forty dollars to do it.
Except, of course, sitting around and getting paid far more than forty dollars.
On that, I managed to speak to Kevin Pollack for a moment last night.
I said something cute that made him laugh.
And everyone else for that matter.
But that was less exciting.
And he likely thought, "This loser is probably going to write in his blog about this."

Looney Toons

Pretty tall in the saddle, are you?
Figure you've put your Red Dead time in?
Your days of being a cowpoke are long gone.
You're now a rustler.
A 'slinger!
But let me ask you this:
Have you shot a TNT crate just as a rabbit is running by it?
I'm not going to say that "You haven't played the game until this has happened."
But I will say that it's extremely entertaining.

I'll tell you what's better than Rockstar compiling a bunch of songs onto a bunch of invented radio stations:
Rockstar's own music.
Iggy Pop be damned.
The fact that they could take brass instruments, and make them fit in a western motif.
That speaks volumes.


This, in fact, wasn't the track I was looking for.
There's another that crops up randomly while wandering.
I'm not sure if it is specific to a certain area. I'll make a note the next time I hear it.

Obsidian may be licking their Alpha Protocol wounds now...
But this title will be something to be proud of.
Everyone knows that Dungeon Siege was the best non-Diablo Diablo imitation.
Besides, I can't remember an earlier game that allowed you to buy a pack mule.

I'm Taken

I'm awake, I'm awake.
Are you?
That's the real question.
Here's the test:
If you notice that M.C. Hammer has a new show,
And you believe that this is drastically wrong.
You're awake.
I was flicking past his show, and I heard him say, "I'm a fighter."
But, I think that all of us together are strong enough to take him.

I have an interview with someone from The Telegram momentarily.
I hope that she is not as attractive as she sounds on the phone.
On Friday night, at the club, I had a group of people invite me to sit at their table.
Literally as I walked off of the stage.
Fabio was there.
And Josh.
And a woman who may have been Andrea.
I stood in a circle with them outside and discussed Kindergarten Cop as a legitimate stoner film.
Then possibly Andrea said, "We're going to a party at Ben's.
It's right around here.
You should come."
Of course it was at Ben's.
Ben is always having a party. Somewhere.
I was happy to tell Andrea that I had to go home and do rails of cocaine with my girlfriend.
In the bath.
But you people have been around often enough while I'm single.
Would this have ever happened to me then?
No way.
I'd be in the same circle.
And Andrea would be off to the side, smoking impatiently.
"C'mon guys!
Who cares about Kindergarten Cop!
We have to get to Ben's"-
sideways glance at me-
"His place is really far away."

Six Degrees of Adulation

So Kevin Pollack is coming to the club.

Yes.

The lawyer that wasn't Tom Cruise in A Few Good Men.

He also wasn't Kevin Bacon.

Which makes him the best lawyer in the film, I suppose.

Though not necessarily the best dancer.

Colin and I often say "Ansfer dat," when the phone rings.

Which is a Kevin Pollack line from The Whole Nine Yards.

Despite these tidbits, I'm still not really sure what to speak to him about if I meet him.

I'll probably just talk about gas prices, actually

(they affect celebrities, too).

If the secret for the Off Skintastic lamps is the little thingy that slides into the top of it, why would they mention it in the commercial?

I'm not so much an 'ass guy' as I am a 'younger sister guy.'

I really feel as though I have written this very same line in a post recently.

A Deep Clean

Ever have a somewhat shitty day
And then you go to your girlfriend's place, only to find out that she has bought a mechanical toothbrush for you to use in her place?
It makes everything better.