Hemerrhoids; Tackling the Governor; The Waterlogged Undead; Comics
More dispatches from the bathroom:
8:05 AM: Upon arriving to work, stopped into the one remaining bathroom to remove a piece of pizza crust from my teeth. Stepped into restroom to be greeted by panting, labored breathing. Attempted to walk directly to mirror but couldn't help noticing pair of pants crumpled beneath wall of the stall. Subject in stall still wore shoes, but pants had been completely removed and were almost entirely outside the stall, in the bathroom proper. Also on the floor: an industrial size white tube or bottle of medication.
Stole pants. Stamped on medication, squirting goo all over unseen subject.
8:15 AM (non-bathroom dispatch): Some lady just now walked by and stared into my cubicle. Not only did she spy on me, but she was wearing a horizontal stripy black-and-light-yellow shirt. Get the hell out of here, Bee Woman!
Here is an event the State is hosting:
Mardi Gras in the Museum -- a Benefit Event for Iowa’s Gulf States Relief Fund
Saturday, October 22, from 6 to 10 PM at the State Historical Building, 600 E. Locust St., Des Moines
Music by the Party Gras Classic Jazz Band, the Heartland Youth Choir and Calle Sur
Cajun-inspired food from your favorite Des Moines restaurants
Wine, beer and soft drinks
Now, you know how I feel about those damned New Orleanseans. The idea is not mine, but I am on the planning board for the Mardi Gras meets Undead Waterlogged Sea Zombies party.
I don't actually hate the New Orleanseans. But I will attend the MG/UWSZ party.
But back to the subject: I am so tempted to go to this State-sponsored museum drunkery. I'd get bombed on wine, beer and soft drinks and tackle the governor into a display of Iowa's legal code. "Vilsackvilsack," he'd say, and then the pounding of footsteps on the marble floor would alart him. He'd glance up. "Vilsack?" he'd say, and then I'd leap headlong into his torso, capture him in a bearhug, and we'd both tumble into an 8 x 8 State Flag.
Do you remember me talking about the old woman here with really nice legs? This lady is probably 65 and damn, she has some fine legs. Well, I have found another! There are two of these people here!
Blame it on stem cell research.
Is anyone coming this weekend? (That really means "Wes, what are you doing?" since Amish doesn't understand what the "magic electric computo-box" is and . . . well, Kevin already lives here.)
Is Andy returning to Albia?
Is Kevin going a-ghost hunting?
Here is your food and drink review: yesterday Andy and I met for pizza. I summoned the Dark Forces and requested a pizza-bearing portal to open at a bus bench on E. 6th at precisely 12:15. When the pizza came—delivered by some kid in a Baretta instead of by the dark hand of Thanator—this bag lady started tailing me. I sat there for a while, waiting for Andy, and she stood there, staring in a display window. The display window was completely boarded up and blank. That woman wanted my pizza.
Post pizza, we went to Gong Fu Tea. Have you heard of Gong Fu Tea? It's an excellent place. The environment, I mean, the actual place. They have empty crates as decoration, which is good enough for me. And the tea—they brew it in little pots that they put on top of your cup. And then they push a button and the tea comes out the bottom! of the pot, and splashes into your cup! The pot urinates delicious tea into your cup!
Here are some things I would draw if I were John or Dave. Some of these scenarios you will already be familiar with:
AMISH'S TRIP TO THE DOCTOR
PANEL ONE: Amish sits on examination table, doctor stands. Both look grave. Amish is not wearing a shirt. Doctor: Amish, I'm afraid you have . . . cancer.
PANEL TWO: Amish gapes, devastated.
PANEL THREE: Doctor lays into Amish with a vicious, brutal slap, rocking his body off the table and into the wall. Sound effect: SLAPPO!
. . .
LAST SATURDAY'S TRIP TO PIZZA HUT (ALMOST A TRUE STORY)
PANEL ONE: Group of adults sitting around a restaurant table, eating pizza, looking happy and conversational.
PANEL TWO: Group of children in birthday hats sits behind group of adults. Cake in center of table. Noisemakers in hands. Raucousness.
PANEL THREE: Adults, one in particular, getting annoyed.
PANEL FOUR: Most annoyed adult snapping, fingers twisted into claws, eyes squinted in rage.
PANEL FIVE: Adult leaping onto kid's table, tearing off shirt, furious. Kids shocked.
PANEL SIX: Adult smashing the cake against his chest and face, kids screaming and running.
PANEL SEVEN: Adult, covered in cake, half nude, with disembodied arm in mouth; birthday hats all over the table, pieces of children and birthday cake mess.
. . .
A GREETING
PANEL ONE: Two businessmen at a bus stop. First businessman: Hello!
PANEL TWO: Other businessman: Hello!
PANEL THREE: Their faces contort as their chests and suits burst open, and eldritch aliens claw their ways out of their chests.
8:05 AM: Upon arriving to work, stopped into the one remaining bathroom to remove a piece of pizza crust from my teeth. Stepped into restroom to be greeted by panting, labored breathing. Attempted to walk directly to mirror but couldn't help noticing pair of pants crumpled beneath wall of the stall. Subject in stall still wore shoes, but pants had been completely removed and were almost entirely outside the stall, in the bathroom proper. Also on the floor: an industrial size white tube or bottle of medication.
Stole pants. Stamped on medication, squirting goo all over unseen subject.
8:15 AM (non-bathroom dispatch): Some lady just now walked by and stared into my cubicle. Not only did she spy on me, but she was wearing a horizontal stripy black-and-light-yellow shirt. Get the hell out of here, Bee Woman!
Here is an event the State is hosting:
Mardi Gras in the Museum -- a Benefit Event for Iowa’s Gulf States Relief Fund
Saturday, October 22, from 6 to 10 PM at the State Historical Building, 600 E. Locust St., Des Moines
Music by the Party Gras Classic Jazz Band, the Heartland Youth Choir and Calle Sur
Cajun-inspired food from your favorite Des Moines restaurants
Wine, beer and soft drinks
Now, you know how I feel about those damned New Orleanseans. The idea is not mine, but I am on the planning board for the Mardi Gras meets Undead Waterlogged Sea Zombies party.
I don't actually hate the New Orleanseans. But I will attend the MG/UWSZ party.
But back to the subject: I am so tempted to go to this State-sponsored museum drunkery. I'd get bombed on wine, beer and soft drinks and tackle the governor into a display of Iowa's legal code. "Vilsackvilsack," he'd say, and then the pounding of footsteps on the marble floor would alart him. He'd glance up. "Vilsack?" he'd say, and then I'd leap headlong into his torso, capture him in a bearhug, and we'd both tumble into an 8 x 8 State Flag.
Do you remember me talking about the old woman here with really nice legs? This lady is probably 65 and damn, she has some fine legs. Well, I have found another! There are two of these people here!
Blame it on stem cell research.
Is anyone coming this weekend? (That really means "Wes, what are you doing?" since Amish doesn't understand what the "magic electric computo-box" is and . . . well, Kevin already lives here.)
Is Andy returning to Albia?
Is Kevin going a-ghost hunting?
Here is your food and drink review: yesterday Andy and I met for pizza. I summoned the Dark Forces and requested a pizza-bearing portal to open at a bus bench on E. 6th at precisely 12:15. When the pizza came—delivered by some kid in a Baretta instead of by the dark hand of Thanator—this bag lady started tailing me. I sat there for a while, waiting for Andy, and she stood there, staring in a display window. The display window was completely boarded up and blank. That woman wanted my pizza.
Post pizza, we went to Gong Fu Tea. Have you heard of Gong Fu Tea? It's an excellent place. The environment, I mean, the actual place. They have empty crates as decoration, which is good enough for me. And the tea—they brew it in little pots that they put on top of your cup. And then they push a button and the tea comes out the bottom! of the pot, and splashes into your cup! The pot urinates delicious tea into your cup!
Here are some things I would draw if I were John or Dave. Some of these scenarios you will already be familiar with:
AMISH'S TRIP TO THE DOCTOR
PANEL ONE: Amish sits on examination table, doctor stands. Both look grave. Amish is not wearing a shirt. Doctor: Amish, I'm afraid you have . . . cancer.
PANEL TWO: Amish gapes, devastated.
PANEL THREE: Doctor lays into Amish with a vicious, brutal slap, rocking his body off the table and into the wall. Sound effect: SLAPPO!
. . .
LAST SATURDAY'S TRIP TO PIZZA HUT (ALMOST A TRUE STORY)
PANEL ONE: Group of adults sitting around a restaurant table, eating pizza, looking happy and conversational.
PANEL TWO: Group of children in birthday hats sits behind group of adults. Cake in center of table. Noisemakers in hands. Raucousness.
PANEL THREE: Adults, one in particular, getting annoyed.
PANEL FOUR: Most annoyed adult snapping, fingers twisted into claws, eyes squinted in rage.
PANEL FIVE: Adult leaping onto kid's table, tearing off shirt, furious. Kids shocked.
PANEL SIX: Adult smashing the cake against his chest and face, kids screaming and running.
PANEL SEVEN: Adult, covered in cake, half nude, with disembodied arm in mouth; birthday hats all over the table, pieces of children and birthday cake mess.
. . .
A GREETING
PANEL ONE: Two businessmen at a bus stop. First businessman: Hello!
PANEL TWO: Other businessman: Hello!
PANEL THREE: Their faces contort as their chests and suits burst open, and eldritch aliens claw their ways out of their chests.
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