Wednesday, August 29, 2012


Adam sat in front of the television on the concrete floor. He tried to change the channel, but the same program was on every one. I stood behind him, leaning against the dark wall. My arms were folded across my chest and one of my legs was bent.

"...first actual baby born in four months," the broadcaster was saying. His teeth were white and huge. He smiled like his mouth was trying to get out of his skull.

As usual there were images of the bloody labor, the sweat drenched heaving mother, and crying doctors and nurses. The kid itself was a disgusting mess, covered in slimy goo from the vagina it just popped out of. Until the next one was born, this one would be worshiped and heralded as a savior. Its eyes were closed and it was screaming, which I might do too if the first sensation I knew in my existence had been dozens of cameras being pointed directly at me.

I had seen hundreds of these birthday celebration programs. They cancelled everything else, forcing us to watch the miracle of life whenever it happened. What followed on the television would be interviews with the friends, family, and anyone in that town who they could get. The president would give a speech about how we were turning around as a species, making a comeback, stronger than ever before, and the citizens would sing patriotic songs and believe that things could be better. The media would illuminate a hope, buried deep in many human beings, that maybe they could take back their planet and incite a new utopia of beauty and peaceful rule.

"This is crap," Adam said.
I put the bottom of my braid in my mouth and sighed. "It's gonna be on all day," I mumbled. "Just turn it off."

My quiet voice was almost swallowed by the sounds of chanting and singing from beyond our walls. Outside any actuals in town were drinking and celebrating. We stayed inside because the last time an actual baby was born, there were a plethora of exterminations of our kind. It wasn't called "killing" when an actual destroyed one of us. It was more like removing unwanted pests and problems. Sometimes it was like hunting. In some towns, it was hunting.

They were never even investigated or reported as murders; we weren't afforded any such rights to life. The actuals were ecstatically high on the energy from the birth, and I wanted to be happy for them but it's hard when they hate me with such uninhibited and inexplicable passion. I want to love them, but as the expression goes, I am only inhuman. They call me names at the grocery store and pull my hair as I walk to the factory for work. They grabbed at my meek brown burlap dresses that enveloped an athletic designed body. They call me soulless.

Adam turned the TV off and pulled out his book from the government issued desk drawer and handed it to me. "Read to me, please?"
I took the book from him, holding it's weathered spine in my hands. "Why don't you read?"
He shook his head, locks of perfect hair falling over his face. "Too hard."
"You have to keep practicing," I said. "Here, at home. Don't do anything like reading or drawing or writing in public ever."

We weren't supposed to have any emotions, so writing, reading, drawing, and any hobby for leisure or creative release was considered incongruous with our functions and therefore disturbing to anyone who saw. Even when other clones saw me reading they became upset by the image. Us displaying emotions is unsettling, like seeing a small child holding a gleaming sharp knife.

I watched Adam furrow his perfect brow and fumblingly flip pages in his book. His lips moved as his eyes squinted. All I wanted for him was a better life than mine.

We both jumped as there was a furtive rapid pounding on our door. I walked across the tiny dark room and placed my head against the doorway to listen. We weren't allowed windows in our apartments.

"Don't open it," Adam whispered. He had quietly crept up behind me. The lamp light fell on his perfectly constructed cheekbones.
"I don't hear anything," I whispered back, with my cheek against the wood. "I'm sure it's not an angry mob. They'd be a teensy bit louder."
"Could be a silent mob."
"What's that?" I asked
"Humans doing some sort of deceptive ruse."
"I have never heard an angry mob be this reserved and contained."
"How many angry mobs have you heard?"
"Um, five, I believe."
"I don't want you to open it."
"Just put your book away..."
"Because it is an angry mob, isn't it?"
"No. I don't know. Just in case."

Adam, the closest thing one of us could have to a brother, assumed a blank expression and a still spiritless pose. I put my hand on the doorknob, curled my fingers around the brass and turned.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

More attempts at monologue jokes

Paul Ryan said if he wasn't a politician he'd probably be a skier, but we'll probably still get to see him fall on his ass.

Jennifer Aniston just got engaged! See, mom, my vision board isn't a waste of time after all, now is it?

A California man died inside a hearse. Said the hearse, "Listen, this is not what it looks like!"

Shia LaBeouf said he's done with big Hollywood movies. Big Holywood movies responded, (shrug) "...kay."

Sarah Palin said Joe Biden was offensive, undiplomatic, and a poor fit for vp. Then she said, "...mirror mirror on the wall..."

The U. S. Military is sending surveillance blimps to Mexico to monitor the border. Or, as the Mexican giant said, "Um pinata para ME?"

Rep Todd Akin tried to claim that some rapes are more legitimate than others, which is an easy mistake to make considering he lacks a legitimate soul.

Todd Akin claims he misspoke. I guess he's referring to the time he said "I'd be a good senator."

A man stole a bag of weed because he said it smelled too good. That's not a good excuse for taking something that doesn't belong to you, but at least he wasn't at a kindergarten.

Romney predicted he will create 12 million jobs. This prediction was made on a crystal ball of falsehoods.

A conservative Tennessee lobbyist said welfare was like "feeding animals" and that's so offensive... that no grizzly bear devoured him.

A shirtless photo was released of Paul Ryan and supporters were shocked... that you can't even see the demon scales.

Avril Lavigne got engaged. I guess she'll have to change her facebook status from, "Why does everything have to be so complicated?"

Prince Harry was photographed naked in Vegas. Either that or he and the emperor have the same new clothes.

A hurricane is heading for the Republican National Convention. In response to the storm, god said, "I built this."

Monday, August 13, 2012


Abby allowed her finger tips to caress the spines of the books. The bookshelves lined two of the four walls in the office, stretching from the floor to the ceiling. His desk sat along the third wall with the window, overlooking a garden. Piles of literature, mostly fiction, were stacked taller than she could reach, encasing thousands of hours of stories and adventures and escapes. She outstretched my arms and spun around in a circle singing in a high pitched offtune voice, "The hills are alive..."

"Sorry, baby," said Matt, sitting at his desk without looking up. "I just need to get this work done really quick."
"Don't be sorry," Abby said with a happy grin. "Why would you apologize, sweetheart?"

Matt typed for a minute. The bright computer glared into his eyes. His back was towards her. His strong shoulders were wrapped in a green t-shirt that Abby adored. He was hunched over his computer, which lit up his face and neck, sending a glowing glint off his glasses. The glasses framed the sparkling eyes that she had fantasized about for years before they had hooked up. She had idolized him for so long before he had ever noticed her. She had dreamed about him incessantly but she had never dreamed about the two of them together because even in her fantasies she lacked that kind of hubris. Now it was reality. Unable to contain her desire to be in his arms anymore, she gave an uncontrollable yelp and ran to him.

"You're so handsome," she said. She kissed the back of his head and hugged his shoulders.
"No, I know I'm not." He kept his back to her. She leaned into him, smelling his neck.

Abby tugged the fabric of her new dress, hoping Matt would comment on it. Her bare feet rocked back and forth on the clean carpet. She twirled around again, singing, "...with the sound of music..."

"I'm working on this new program where I design this character with two heads-" Matt started.
"That's awesome! Like two heads with separate personalities or...?" Abby jumped in abruptly and then trailed off, looking out the window. Her stomach growled and she put her hand over it. "Our robot baby is hungry."

Matt looked up at her for the first time since she'd come into the room. His eyebrows were down, narrowed over his forehead. His lips were tightly closed. His eyes were tired, but sparkled nevertheless. "Sorry, you go ahead," he said politely.
"What?" She grinned down at him. She arched her back downward and kissed his cheek.
"Go ahead and finish your thought, baby."
"Oh. Um. No, I wasn't trying to talk over you. I just thought you were done talking."
"Well, I wasn't. But you go ahead."
"Okay. Oh, I don't remember it anymore." Abby shrugged and gave a sharp laugh. Matt sighed again. Abby looked back over at him "So what's the thing you're working on?"

Matt frowned and looked back at his computer. He rubbed his eyelids beneath his glasses. He looked back at his computer and stared at the paragraph he'd been working on for the last hour. It was growing dark outside and he still had hours of work to do. He was swamped at work, and he barely got any sleep as is with Abby over every night. She had so much energy, an effervescent boundless overflow of emotions that had initially rendered her quirky and endearing, but now the hyper outbursts were the scraping of a knife against a plate that sat in his brain, unwashed and waiting for her to finally maybe think about doing a dish once in a while.

Obliviously, Abby playfully put a strand of her long messy hair in her mouth while absentmindedly picking books from the shelf. She never seemed to put them back in the right place. Through a muffled mouthful of her own hair, she sang to herself a whimsical song about kittens that she had made up. Matt cracked his neck. The shadows crowded in through the window, casting his once warmly lit office into cold empty darkness, a gloomy cave of suffocating fear.

Opening to the first page in a sci-fi horror novel, Abby spat the hair out of her mouth. "What do you want for dinner, Matt?"

"Jesus, baby! I'm trying to work!" Matt said loudly. He slammed his fist on the table and Abby jumped. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. He looked up at her, turning halfway in his swivel office chair. She took a step back. Her lip quivered. His voice quickly resumed the soft, gentle tone. "I'm sorry. I know I'm annoying. I know you hate it when I try to get work done. I'm so annoying."

"Matt, I never said that!" Her eyes bloated like an engorged drowning rat. She stepped towards him, reaching out, and he leaned back, away from her, looking down at his desk. Her hand fell to her side. The room seemed to be moving around them, as if they were on a very smoothly running train hurtling somewhere unknown in the darkness.

"Sorry, baby, I know you are disappointed and annoyed with me."
"Sweetie, no, I never said that!" Abby yelled. She waved her arms anxiously, desperately in a flourishing brandishing motion. Her voice escalated to a higher pitch and she could feel herself on the verge of tears inexplicably. She wasn't sure what was happening.
"Please stop yelling at me," he pleaded.
"Matt... I'm not yelling at you!" she screamed at top volume. "I never have! I never do!"
"Okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Abby pounded her fist into her thigh, releasing a sharp pain that almost felt refreshing in her mind numbing rage induced trance. Her lips twitched and her chin wrinkled up like a pug. "Okay. I can tell you don't wanna hang out tonight. I'm just gonna leave you alone." She choked and tears poured down her cheeks and onto her chest as if running off in tiny gutters of insecurity.

"Fine. Leave me. I know you want to." Matt's eyes watered also, much quieter and more graceful than Abby's. Their mutual inner turmoil was a malicious monster that thirsted for these tears, licking it's lips expectantly.
"I'm not leaving you!" she screeched. She ground her fingernails hard into her palms. Her tears grew snotty and her voice cracked as she began to blubber like a gooey baby. Matt's neighbor's dog barked from the apartment next door. Matt winced.
He said, "It's okay. I know you don't want to be with me."

They weren't crying together. They wept separately, alone on two different islands identically floating in the same ocean.

"What? Are y-y-you breaking up with me?" Abby stammered. "Can we talk about this?"
"We are talking about this."
"Do you want t-t-to...?"
"This is all you, baby."
"Then please don't... don't break u-u-up..." she sobbed.

Abby shook violently and leaned against the wall with the door. She slid to the ground, unable to stand she was crying so hard. She bent her knees and pulled them inwards, tucked her head down and sobbed into her lap. Her skirt piled up around her waist. Snot ran through her long wavy hair, globbing it into a messy congealed nest. Tears soaked the weird dress she looked frumpy in but mistakenly thought made her look "adorkable." Chubby unshaven white thighs poked out from the dress, clapping against each other as she writhed. Her skirt rose up enough that her pink and turquoise little girl underwear flashed into view. Her sobs were loud and shrill like a child's. She cried so hard she started hicupping and rocking back and forth, struggling and gasping to breathe. Oxygen was tight and thick around her, strangling her snotty throat like a throbbing snake.

"Fine. Okay."
"You win. We're staying together. Whatever you want."
"Please hold me?" Abby blubbered.

Matt sighed and walked away from his desk and knelt beside Abby on the floor. He put his arm around her trembling shoulders. His voice dropped to the gentle soothing tone. "You're okay. We're together. We're fine."
"Yes. Let's never talk about this again."

Thursday, August 9, 2012

More attempts at monologue jokes

A "kiss in" may be staged at a chick-fil-a which would be great for civil liberties, but an awkward excuse for an anniversary dinner.

A Republican National Convention rep called Harry Reid a dirty liar. It got weird though when his wife was like, "yeah, and I bet the tax stuff wasn't true either.

Morrissey criticized London for displaying jingoism, which is aggressive imperialist ethnocentrism, or in middle America: subtlety.

Lady Gaga was photographed in her pool naked! Well, except for her human suit.

Despite his harsh initial criticism of Mitt Romney, Santorum now wants to speak at the RNC. Which makes sense because speak is the trick after roll over.

Ted Nugent said some weird and mean things about President Obama. He also said "wang a dang dang poontang" so we know he's a credible source.

The Twilight director urged fans to respect Kristen Stewart, just not enough to break the illusion of the film's anti-feminist undertones.

Rumors report that Lindsay Lohan may star in the upcoming Scary Movie. It's just a normal movie, but with Lindsay Lohan.

A third party company is releasing a program very similar to siri, entitled Nuance, as in, this robotic uprising is very nuanced.

A new study reports that violent media keeps kids awake. So, if your kid is terminally ill, turn on the news.

Monday, August 6, 2012

Long coffee line

The smells of roasted beans soaked into my hair and clothes like a moist fog in a swamp. I tapped my high heeled shoe on the linoleum floor, painted to look much classier than it was. My toes scraped across the floor, shiny and plastic like Mrs. Johnson my 10th grade English teacher.

I stared at the back of the head of the woman in front of me. She had gray hair up in a short bob. I could see a few inches of wrinkly neck rolling out behind her collar, like folds of dough for an unbaked hairy mole-freckled pie. She half turned, almost as though she felt me staring at her. We both looked down at our watches. I didn't have a watch so I looked at my ipod. My ipod looked back up at me with a snicker at my futile empty existence.

I had been on my ten minute break from work for twelve minutes now and I was still three people from the front of the line. The gentleman at the front of the line was getting four frappucinos which take the longest of anything to make. He watched them blend the coffee with a drooling grin while I crossed my arms and exhaled loudly.

After the frappucino glugger, the woman in front of me went up to order and asked about every question possible about the menu. Her voice was crackly like dead leaves covering the deck at my parent's house.

"What's the difference between a cappucino and a late?" she asked. "Well, what specifically is foam? Oh... Um... What's the difference between a cappucino and a late?"

I rolled my eyes. It's starbucks. How do you not know the menu yet? Like I'm the only one who's parents dropped her off at coffee shops as a child when they couldn't get a baby sitter?

Finally it was my turn at the front of the line. I made eye contact with the barista, who was a bit shorter than me. I spread my legs and centered my weight into my heals so I could stare her dead in the eyes. I said, "May I use your restroom?"

"Sure, the code to get into the door is 1234-"
"My cousin Kelly couldn't make it but he says how's your turnip field," I interrupted abruptly.
"Oh, it's you," said the barista, raising her eyebrows and curling one lip upward. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "The code is 2221."
"Thanks," I chirped.

I typed the code into the bathroom door handle and it beeped twice and then unlocked. I turned the handle and stepped inside, but instead of the mainstream starbucks bathroom I stepped through a trap door that had opened in the floor as a result of my code. The steps lead down into a dark cave. The door slammed shut above me.

Far away a glimmering light cast shadows across the cave wall and dimly lit the pathway. The walls were made of dirt and rock, with bits of roots and worms wriggling out of them. The ground was hard and solid. I folded my arms into each other, hugging my waist, shrinking between the narrow walls. Looking back, the stairs had already disappeared and there was an endless passageway that way as well. I smirked and headed towards the light.

Snakes and rats slithered and scampered respectively across the dirty earth. I took off my high heels and walked barefoot, feeling the cold solid reality beneath my feet. It felt so hard and sturdy. My toes wriggled appreciatively. "Thank you for the authenticity of existence!" yelped my toes. "Shut up, toes," I whispered back.

At the end of the long corridor was a coffin. Or maybe it was a wooden kayak that someone had hinged a lid onto. Regardless, the lid was ajar slightly, revealing a soft cushioning bedding of blankets, snuggling against each other invitingly. A lit lantern hung from the curved ceiling, casting shadows across the cave.

Beyond the coffin kayak, the cave sharpened into a cliff and overlooked a deep underground cavern below. It was so deep that I couldn't see the bottom.

"Hi," said a high pitched nasally voice.
I pivoted around and found myself face to face with a woman in business attire, wearing sensible shoes, her hair in a neat bun, manicured nails, shaved armpits, and normal classy glasses. Despite her cold expression, I could tell exactly who she was.

"Hey," I said. "You look terrible."
"I know," My grown up self responded.
"Are you okay?"
"Um.... I don't... I don't think so?"

As she stuttered this my grown up self's face began to flake in dry tufts. Some of her hair fell out. The shadows beneath her eyes deepened.

"Shit." I took a step toward her.
"No, this is... the way it should be..." Her smile was gentle and reassuring.

She stepped around me, seemingly losing weight and becoming more frail before my eyes. Her knees cracked as she stepped forward. Reflexively, I shoved my arm outward and she leaned on it. She was at least thirty pounds less than me. She used my arm to steady herself as she climbed into the kayak. She lay down in the nest of blankets and rested her head on the fluffy pillow.

"There's no going back if we do this," I said.

She reached up and used the last of her strength to pull the lid over herself. She didn't wave or do anything dramatic. She simply slid the heavy wooden lid into place and she was gone from sight. I sighed and pushed. The coffin tumbled down off the cliff, below the ledge, and toppled down into the cavern. Gradually the dark wood faded into the blackness. The only sense I had that it had been there at all was a far away splash I heard from below. I imagined the kayak floating in a river miles below the earth surface, swinging along to the gentle rocking motion, and her looking up at the pitch darkness, with a relaxed sigh on her lips.