Category: humour

ribfest

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Every year, I think there’s a story in the subculture of Ribfest.

Every damn year.

There’s a raunchy comedy in there somewhere, and at some point, I’m going to write it.

Hell, maybe I’ll make a comic out of it. That could work, although it screams crude sex comedy with lots of butts and boobs and random dicks.

Maybe the return of the batwing, a la Waiting.

I don’t know. There could be a book in it, but hell, it’s hard to make a book that funny. I do have ideas for another book that’s funny. Several, actually, but they have heart.

Can I add heart to Ribfest?

Is there a book in this? Who would be the villain?

Vegans?

Yes. Vegans.

Target: 700 words
Written: 944 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Living Dead In Dallas, Charlaine Harris
Comics: Think Tank 12, Think Tank: Fun With PTSD 1, Wildfire 1-2
Music: An Open Letter To NYC, Beastie Boys

nothing finer

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Than to be in a v… wait. No.

There’s nothing finer than a cup of coffee, a mix of David Bowie/Rise Against/Nine Inch Nails in your ears, as you finalize the edits on the fourth draft of your novella.

Thirteen scenes I hope to combine to six.

I know you can’t sell a novella. I’m hoping to package it as The Mungk & Other Bullshit, which I realize will be a tough sell on bookstore shelves, but it’s also an eyecatcher. It was suggested to me to call the book The Little House In The Country, but that sounds fucking boring and generic.

The Mungk is a weird name. And people love swearing.

You see the word Mungk and ask, what the fuck is that (although you might be one of those people who don’t swear like longshoremen, so you might say, “what a strange looking word, perhaps I should inquire as to its meaning” and then drink some tea with your pinky out and adjust your monocle, you fucking weirdo), and then pick it up.

Pick it up and maybe buy it. And then maybe that money goes through the various systems of skimming off the top from the store, the distributor, the publisher, agents, managers and probably some grifting professional organization that claims to advocate for authors, but actually keeps them poor and begging, like the RIAA and MPAA do to movies and music, and then finally, that pittance will arrive in my bank account, where it’s probably already been paid out in an advance and I’ll actually get nothing extra for it at all.

But if enough of you do it…

Well, shit.

Break out the fucking tea.

Target: 700 words
Written: 302 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter
Comics: Saga 21-24
Music: On Your Own, The Verve (sometimes, it's all so appropriate)

flatiron to times square

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We did that walk. Down Broadway. In ninety degree heat.

On the plus side, I got a good deal on good shirts and shorts from an Aeropostale outlet.

Also, of fashion in New York. I’m not sure who convinced women that the new trend should skin-tight, see-through and bra-less, but hell, good job, Illuminati or Obama or whoever we have to thank for that.

I know, I know.

Dirty old man, it’s horrible. I’m horrible.

I should be spayed and neutered already, and I would be, if it wasn’t for this damn sex drive. I’ll get you next time, meddling sex drive.

I think it’s official; I’ve got heat delusion. Goodbye, Central Park Zoo. I love your red panda and your penguins, but you should really let them all go home.

Target: 700 words
Written: 456 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Assholes Finish First, Tucker Max (this shit is colouring my views, thank heaven it's done)
Comics: Saga 1-4 (HOLY SHIT)
Music: OK Human, Weezer

also fact

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Ninety-nine percent of Gen X males who were in either their teens or twenties in the Nineties will also picture themselves as moustachioed detectives sliding across car hoods, Starsky and Hutch style, when the song Sabotage by the Beastie Boys is on.

None of us will think a real life moustache is cool, unless you’re a police officer, porn star or either Tom Selleck or Sam Elliott (like, best ‘stache ever, am I right?)

Target: 700 words
Written: 50 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Make Love! The Bruce Campbell Way, Ash
Comics: Danger Girl/Army Of Darkness 2-4, Danger Girl: Revolver 1
Music: Oh Love, Green Day

facts

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There are things that I know to be false and things I know to be true.

We are mostly made of nothing. The whole universe is largely void.

Fact.

Gravity is a thing.

Fact.

Puppies and kittens are cute.

Fact.

Finally, ninety-nine percent of all Gen X males who were either in their teens or twenties during the Nineties will think or say some version of “Oh hell yeah” when the opening chords of Sabotage by the Beastie Boys hits.

True story.

Target: 700 words
Written: 192 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Make Love! The Bruce Campbell Way, Bruce Campbell
Comics: Danger Girl: Body Shots 2-4, Danger Girl/Army Of Darkness 1 (a Bruce kind of day, apparently)
Music: Oh Boy - The Best Of Buddy Holly & The Crickets, Buddy Holly (& The Crickets)

gettin’ on wid it

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I think it’s time for the whinging to stop (I know that’s not the spelling of whining, but it’s like the British insult version to me).

Whinging.

Win. Jing.

Alrighty, movin’ on then.

Target: 700 words
Written: 152 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Hans Christian Anderson's Fairy Tales (I think the utter lack of cohesive plotlines or thoughts is driving me insane; even a fairy tale should have a logical flow.  How did this ever become famous?)
Comics: Danger Girl 4-7
Music: Odelay, Beck (the jet fresh flow... wait... get fresh? I like jet fresh better)

teriyaki burgers, coffee stout and junior concerts

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So, my whole day was hijacked. For the first time in a long, long time, I got to the end of the day and realized, I hadn’t read a thing, so I sat down and did five minutes before bed.

(This is not helping me get through the 1140-page complete fairy tales of Hans Christian Anderson, already a more tedious read than the bible, but I am a completist and it is “research” for a project down the road).

Did you know Anderson once visited Charles Dickens and turned into the houseguest from hell, extending a short stay into a five week hellscape that forced Dickens to tell him to get the fuck out?

I guess Dickens’ platitudes about charity don’t extended to irritating houseguests.

Anyway, after a morning concert for my father-in-law, some running around, a lengthy dog walk and some pool time with homemade teriyaki burgers and grilled pineapple (made by yours truly), we followed that up with a campfire at my sisters.

The dogs are spent.

And so am I.

Why is it, again, that I am involved with people? Oh right, I actually enjoyed the day, but still, it doesn’t do well for one’s goals to enjoy oneself all the time.

Target: 700 words
Written: 104 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Hans Christian Anderson's Most Tedious Fucking Stories
Comics: American Vampire 7-10
Music: October, U2

all i’m saying

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Is when you’re talking about suicide, depression and mental health around others, be aware that there may be sufferers nearby for whom your demonization or minimization of their struggle has a negative impact, reinforcing the very stereotypes about themselves that may be keeping them in this state of diminished being.

Your words could spiral someone who was teetering, and you might not even know it.

Leave the place better than you found it. That’s all I’m saying.

And for Pete’s sake, if your only contribution to empathy is a social media post or bluster to friends, stop pretending you give a shit, so everybody can know what an asshole you are, and not only those attuned to your hypocrisy and bullshit.

(Also, who’s Pete? Why are we doing things for Pete’s sake? Is Pete depressed? Should we be worried about Pete?)

Target: 700 words
Written: 41 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Hans Christian Anderson's Fairy Tales (so.  goddamned.  long.)
Comics: American Vampire Second Cycle 11, American Vampire Anthology 2, American Vampire 1976 1-2
Music: Ocean Of Confusion: Songs Of Screaming Trees 1989-1996, Screaming Trees

seriously, sorry

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I don’t know what came over me yesterday.

I think maybe I’d had enough of the bleak, and needed something light and stupid to take my mind off of it.

And so, you get a bad, probably old and tired, fart joke.

It was no Ryan Gosling/Mikey Day as Beavis & Butthead, but we can’t all be geniuses by just sitting there and looking confused.

Although, I’m getting pretty good at being confused. Sitting there takes some work.

Target: 600 words
Written: 314 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Hans Christian Anderson's Fairy Tales
Comics: American Vampire: Lord Of Nightmares 5, American Vampire 32-34
Music: Oasis Essentials, Oasis

mediterranean

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In an effort to dispel a little doom and gloom, or flagrant ego, we note that we try, several times a year, to have themed dinners with the whole family. And we picked Mediterranean.

And it was good, but apparently, a trail of gas is following me around like a trail of death, according to my wife.

And I woke up in the night, thinking, I don’t usually get that from Greek food.

And my butt answered.

This is not Greek food.

This. IS. FARTA!!!!!!

I am so terribly sorry.

Target: 600 words
Written: 866 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Hans Christian Anderson's Fairy Tales
Comics: American Vampire 30-31, American Vampire: Lord Of Nightmares 3-4
Music: O Tannenbaum, They Might Be Giants