I haven't seen my old friend, roommate and mormon mission buddy Greg Newbold for many years so when he invited me over to his mom's house for dinner I was a little surprised. His mom always looked at me with a crooked glance, she was very very Mormon and looking back I think she could tell that I was destined to be Satan's lawyer but her son would always insist that I was a great keeper of the faith, and at the time I was, but she knew.
Even though I bailed on religion for a much better situation, I'm also a good house guest so I wasn't about ready to argue with her about all of it, I really just wanted some baked chicken and potatoes. Besides I could very easily get my point across by simply arriving to dinner without a shirt which is what I did.
Anyway, She ended up giving me a massage which was awkward for all of us, so, yeah, chalk that one up to looking good in boxer briefs, or having the power of Satan, you choose.
Since I was in the the old neighborhood I stopped by my old junior high school where Mrs. Davis, my old drama teacher was still sitting at her desk surrounded by kids paying the rent. Mrs. Petersen, the super bull dykey girls gym coach and the woman we all suspected to be Mrs. Davis' lover was in the corner of the room wearing a purple wig just chillin.
I handed Mrs. Davis a check for 20 years back rent and then gave both her and Mrs. Petersen the "I know you are dykes" nod of approval and went on my way.
My my my are they both fat. Good for them.
Later my friend Lindsay was hanging off the side of the house by her feet and I saved her life. Hero me.
August 31, 2007
Butterface Cleaned Up Her Own Poop, Mike's Lizards Go For a Swim & The Foam Rock Quarry/Cartoon Vehicle Region
Yeah you heard me, Butterface cleaned up her own poop. I was completely surprised, I don't usually take her with me when I go out on adventures so when she started to poop in in the home of the person I was visiting I quickly ran to the door and opened it.
"Butterface, come here, go outside" I said as if she was gonna just cut off the poop mid grunt and take the second half outside.
Of course she just completed her poop with pooping dog look on her face, but as soon as she was finished she trotted over to the dust pan out on the porch, picked it up with her mouth, walked over to her poop and scooped it up, then she took it outside and dumped it in the stream.
We were all amazed. She got a proud look on her face and now she is for sale on eBay.
You wish.
My brother Mike brought along a whole bunch of his lizards and frogs and when he noticed the stream he decided to let them all out for a swim, I guess they didn't care about swimming in Butterfaces toilet because they all scrambled into the water flipping about and dashing under the foam rocks native in this area. I didn't know lizards were such good swimmers. When they flip their tails on your face it feels like spaghetti but alive.
What are foam rocks you ask? Well they are the rocks that get used in movies like by Sasquatch when he needs to throw a boulder at Steve Austin or when a load boulders need to fall off the truck and almost kill Ponch and John. Anyway, yeah they come from the foam rock quarries just on the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge. You can also order complete foam tunnels, cliffs and sacrificial alters too. You thought the stuff was manufactured but that's because you are dumb.
Oh yeah, also the cartoon cars you see in the movies, those come from over there too. They are actually just animals that mated with foam machinery years ago, local legend says Walt Disney screwed a deer that screwed a foam camper and that's where it all started. That's what they say. Anyway, if you have a chance you should go there. There are very few things more adorable than a smiling camper ducking down into a tiny garage for a nap. Precious motherfuckin shit.
"Butterface, come here, go outside" I said as if she was gonna just cut off the poop mid grunt and take the second half outside.
Of course she just completed her poop with pooping dog look on her face, but as soon as she was finished she trotted over to the dust pan out on the porch, picked it up with her mouth, walked over to her poop and scooped it up, then she took it outside and dumped it in the stream.
We were all amazed. She got a proud look on her face and now she is for sale on eBay.
You wish.
My brother Mike brought along a whole bunch of his lizards and frogs and when he noticed the stream he decided to let them all out for a swim, I guess they didn't care about swimming in Butterfaces toilet because they all scrambled into the water flipping about and dashing under the foam rocks native in this area. I didn't know lizards were such good swimmers. When they flip their tails on your face it feels like spaghetti but alive.
What are foam rocks you ask? Well they are the rocks that get used in movies like by Sasquatch when he needs to throw a boulder at Steve Austin or when a load boulders need to fall off the truck and almost kill Ponch and John. Anyway, yeah they come from the foam rock quarries just on the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge. You can also order complete foam tunnels, cliffs and sacrificial alters too. You thought the stuff was manufactured but that's because you are dumb.
Oh yeah, also the cartoon cars you see in the movies, those come from over there too. They are actually just animals that mated with foam machinery years ago, local legend says Walt Disney screwed a deer that screwed a foam camper and that's where it all started. That's what they say. Anyway, if you have a chance you should go there. There are very few things more adorable than a smiling camper ducking down into a tiny garage for a nap. Precious motherfuckin shit.
Life In The Parking Lane, One Billion Gallons of Dirty Water & a Whole Bunch of Honest, Upstanding Methheads
Most people know that setting up residency in a parking structure is against the law, but that doesn't stop anyone from doing it here in SF. Mostly it's homelss people, strippers, fat black guys and speed dealers but even I have felt the temptation of living in the stopped lane.
Last night I decided to try out one of the beds in a parking structure downtown, surprisingly it wasn't that difficult to convince one of my recent photo subjects to join me. Once we made a deal with the undercover cop lady that patrols the place we headed up to stall 76b and set in for the night. My date brought a bunch of different pajama outfits and I took pictures as she tried them all on, even though she was naked nobody really paid much attention, probably because half of the other people staying there were strippers who apparently never put their clothes back on.
I also found out that my nice little Jewish girl date wasn't the nice girl I imagined her to be. Naughty she was, laughing the whole time.
In the middle of the night I went to the nearby hose and drank one billion gallons of dirty water.
In the morning the undercover cop woman went around and arrested everyone but me an the jewish girl, apparently being arrested is just part of the deal. Whatever. As she was arresting the naked strippers, some of whom tried to dash off and escape to no avail I decided I should take pictures of it all only to discover that I left my camera on the bed in the parking stall. Imagine my surprise when I returned to get it and it was still there. Crackheads were looking out for me I guess. They all want me to take their myspace photos.
On the ride back home in the back of the station wagon I couldn't get the door to close and shit kept falling out onto the freeway causing quite a few traffic accidents. My friend Becky was driving and I was a little surprised she didn't even give a fuck. She's not a nice little Jewish girl either.
Last night I decided to try out one of the beds in a parking structure downtown, surprisingly it wasn't that difficult to convince one of my recent photo subjects to join me. Once we made a deal with the undercover cop lady that patrols the place we headed up to stall 76b and set in for the night. My date brought a bunch of different pajama outfits and I took pictures as she tried them all on, even though she was naked nobody really paid much attention, probably because half of the other people staying there were strippers who apparently never put their clothes back on.
I also found out that my nice little Jewish girl date wasn't the nice girl I imagined her to be. Naughty she was, laughing the whole time.
In the middle of the night I went to the nearby hose and drank one billion gallons of dirty water.
In the morning the undercover cop woman went around and arrested everyone but me an the jewish girl, apparently being arrested is just part of the deal. Whatever. As she was arresting the naked strippers, some of whom tried to dash off and escape to no avail I decided I should take pictures of it all only to discover that I left my camera on the bed in the parking stall. Imagine my surprise when I returned to get it and it was still there. Crackheads were looking out for me I guess. They all want me to take their myspace photos.
On the ride back home in the back of the station wagon I couldn't get the door to close and shit kept falling out onto the freeway causing quite a few traffic accidents. My friend Becky was driving and I was a little surprised she didn't even give a fuck. She's not a nice little Jewish girl either.
August 29, 2007
The Great Salad Debate, The Not So Great 5 Flakes of Pot Debate & Cooking Ocean Bugs
I don't spend too much time reading menus because if I'm eating alone it's at a place where the menu is up on the wall and If I"m with someone else I'm too busy with conversation so I make my selections rather hastily, but this by no means should suggest that I'm a complete fucking RETARD.
"One T-bone Steak for the lady, and one Stewed Tomato Salad for you sir."
"Stewed Tomato Salad? I didn't order this."
"Yes you did sir."
"No I did not. I don't even like stewed tomatoes, and what makes this a salad? It looks like you just opened a can of stewed tomatoes and dumped it in a bowl."
"And why can't that be considered a salad?" The waitress asked as she lifted her foot and placed it on my seat, digging the point of her shoe into my thigh.
"Salads have more than one ingredient and don't usually come from a can. Besides, I'm not arguing this with you, I didn't even order this anyway."
"Why? What are you afraid of? Afraid I might WIN?"
"Win? Win what? An argument about whether or not a can of stewed tomatoes dumped in a bowl constitutes a salad? It's not a fucking salad."
"Well let's just ask your date, Ma'am, do you think this is a salad?"
"Well I suppose you could call anything a salad if you wanted too but..."
"Well there you go -- I WIN" She said as she scrunched herself into my side of the booth scooting me to the side, unzipping my pants and proceeding to give me a handjob while my date ate her steak.
"Fine, you win."
Later I got into an argument with a cop who walked into a party I was attending and found 5 flakes of pot on the ground after a lengthy hands and knees search. I told him that they probably came in from someone's shoes walking around on Haight street which is basically covered in pot and besides he didn't have a search warrant and the evidence would be inadmissable anyway. Everyone agreed with me including him. I won that argument no handjob required and we all went back to cooking billions of shrimp, crabs and lobsters because they are BUGS.
They are.
"One T-bone Steak for the lady, and one Stewed Tomato Salad for you sir."
"Stewed Tomato Salad? I didn't order this."
"Yes you did sir."
"No I did not. I don't even like stewed tomatoes, and what makes this a salad? It looks like you just opened a can of stewed tomatoes and dumped it in a bowl."
"And why can't that be considered a salad?" The waitress asked as she lifted her foot and placed it on my seat, digging the point of her shoe into my thigh.
"Salads have more than one ingredient and don't usually come from a can. Besides, I'm not arguing this with you, I didn't even order this anyway."
"Why? What are you afraid of? Afraid I might WIN?"
"Win? Win what? An argument about whether or not a can of stewed tomatoes dumped in a bowl constitutes a salad? It's not a fucking salad."
"Well let's just ask your date, Ma'am, do you think this is a salad?"
"Well I suppose you could call anything a salad if you wanted too but..."
"Well there you go -- I WIN" She said as she scrunched herself into my side of the booth scooting me to the side, unzipping my pants and proceeding to give me a handjob while my date ate her steak.
"Fine, you win."
Later I got into an argument with a cop who walked into a party I was attending and found 5 flakes of pot on the ground after a lengthy hands and knees search. I told him that they probably came in from someone's shoes walking around on Haight street which is basically covered in pot and besides he didn't have a search warrant and the evidence would be inadmissable anyway. Everyone agreed with me including him. I won that argument no handjob required and we all went back to cooking billions of shrimp, crabs and lobsters because they are BUGS.
They are.
August 26, 2007
The Three R's, Mother Teresa Sitting On a Nest of Bones & New Info on Ground Hogs
We've had an infestation of rabbits, raccoons and rats back in the back yard so I went out there and threw shoes at them. the dogs all climbed the trees and chased them as I sang "Rabbits Raccoons and Rats, Rut Durr Yer Theenk Abert Dats!" I beaned a lot of them in the head. The Raccoons were throwing me some really dirty looks. Passive aggressive fucks.
I woke up on an expedition barge out on the bay looking at the collapsed bridge. Chico was there being a good dog just hanging out with my brother John.
"Wow, how drunk was I when I came to your house?" I asked him.
"You didn't seem that drunk."
"Well how come I can't even remember going there or even getting on this barge?"
"I don't know, i just thought you were tired."
We went back to Johns place in Oakland where he is somehow affiliated with a foundry type place. One of the women who worked there keeping the furnaces going was a dead ringer for Mother Teresa, she couldn't have been more than 3 feet tall and she was sitting in a hole in the floor which made her look even smaller.
"Why do you sit in a hole?"
"Oh it keeps everything warm so that when it goes into the furnace it works better."
She climbed out of the hole revealing a pile of bones and skulls.
"You heat the furnaces with bones?"
"Those aren't bones."
They were definitely bones, but I didn't press her because I know when to lay off. Besides, chico was making a nusiance of himself growling and guarding a pile of crap he'd collected. Some nerdy woman came by and offered me a job filming Drunk Week at the eyeglasses museum but after she walked away a dude approached me and warned me that I shouldn't take the job.
"Don't do it, she totally spit out my plum juice."
Sure enough I could see her down the hall spitting out plum juice into the trash receptacle. How rude.
I watched a man as he conducted a puppet/groundhog army. They had choreographed lots of different dances. i had no idea groundhogs could be trained with such precision.
"They have the same brain as dolphins" The man said.
Sure enough, with a closer look I could see their blow holes. Who knew?
Later up on the roof I used a ball point pen to draw hair on all the bald people and lions in a giant black and white photograph from the sixties. I couldn't figure out why all the people were bald or why they were hanging out with tons of lions like it was normal. I think I wrecked the photo with my ball point pen. I didn't even do a good job. I'm lame.
I woke up on an expedition barge out on the bay looking at the collapsed bridge. Chico was there being a good dog just hanging out with my brother John.
"Wow, how drunk was I when I came to your house?" I asked him.
"You didn't seem that drunk."
"Well how come I can't even remember going there or even getting on this barge?"
"I don't know, i just thought you were tired."
We went back to Johns place in Oakland where he is somehow affiliated with a foundry type place. One of the women who worked there keeping the furnaces going was a dead ringer for Mother Teresa, she couldn't have been more than 3 feet tall and she was sitting in a hole in the floor which made her look even smaller.
"Why do you sit in a hole?"
"Oh it keeps everything warm so that when it goes into the furnace it works better."
She climbed out of the hole revealing a pile of bones and skulls.
"You heat the furnaces with bones?"
"Those aren't bones."
They were definitely bones, but I didn't press her because I know when to lay off. Besides, chico was making a nusiance of himself growling and guarding a pile of crap he'd collected. Some nerdy woman came by and offered me a job filming Drunk Week at the eyeglasses museum but after she walked away a dude approached me and warned me that I shouldn't take the job.
"Don't do it, she totally spit out my plum juice."
Sure enough I could see her down the hall spitting out plum juice into the trash receptacle. How rude.
I watched a man as he conducted a puppet/groundhog army. They had choreographed lots of different dances. i had no idea groundhogs could be trained with such precision.
"They have the same brain as dolphins" The man said.
Sure enough, with a closer look I could see their blow holes. Who knew?
Later up on the roof I used a ball point pen to draw hair on all the bald people and lions in a giant black and white photograph from the sixties. I couldn't figure out why all the people were bald or why they were hanging out with tons of lions like it was normal. I think I wrecked the photo with my ball point pen. I didn't even do a good job. I'm lame.
August 19, 2007
My Tiny Talk Show, Beware of "Irregular" Underwear Deals & Tips From Coach merkley???
Now and then I get invited to host a talk show of some sort. I'm usually up for it because, well, I talk a lot. I showed up to the location of the most recent show only to find that the stage and entire set up was miniature style making the guests and me look kinda gigantic. Good idea visually but the seat felt like it was going to disappear into my butthole at any second. Plus I was wearing bad underpants. The guests all complained about the super tiny furniture and I lectured them about good guestmanship which is a word I made up on the spot which is why they hire me to do talk shows now and then.
About the bad underpants, I bought some "irregular" underwear because the price was marked way down, usually this isn't a problem, usually this means that there is a little flaw in the sewing or maybe the tag was sewed in upside down, but this time "irregular" was understatementsville UK. The crotch was way too small and fabric bunchy giving me massive camel toe men's edition. One of my balls kept creeping up and out the wiener hole plopping out the front like a bald mans shiny head. The discomfort was compounded with embarrassment on the basketball court. What made me think that nobody would notice that my gym shorts were actually irregular cameltoe man edition underpants is beyond me. Luckily the mall was close by so I headed off to buy some new briefs. Trouble was that none of the stores carried the boxer brief style that I prefer so the trek was kinda long. Looking on the bright side, if you ever find yourself with ball splitting irregular underpants and on the hunt for replacements, just wear the offending shorts on your shopping expedition and you won't even need to ask where the underpants section is because they will direct you to it the second you walk in the door with your shiny ball sprouting out of the gathered bunch of fabric in your crotch.
When I get around really old people I like to swear way more than usual. I'm not sure why.
By the way when I was on the basketball court with my cameltoe men's edition, everyone was so distracted by my one ball hanging out that every slam dunk was missed. Yup, just get your own team some kind of testicle blinders and let one nut hang out your wiener door secret weapon steeze. Victory is yours my friend.
About the bad underpants, I bought some "irregular" underwear because the price was marked way down, usually this isn't a problem, usually this means that there is a little flaw in the sewing or maybe the tag was sewed in upside down, but this time "irregular" was understatementsville UK. The crotch was way too small and fabric bunchy giving me massive camel toe men's edition. One of my balls kept creeping up and out the wiener hole plopping out the front like a bald mans shiny head. The discomfort was compounded with embarrassment on the basketball court. What made me think that nobody would notice that my gym shorts were actually irregular cameltoe man edition underpants is beyond me. Luckily the mall was close by so I headed off to buy some new briefs. Trouble was that none of the stores carried the boxer brief style that I prefer so the trek was kinda long. Looking on the bright side, if you ever find yourself with ball splitting irregular underpants and on the hunt for replacements, just wear the offending shorts on your shopping expedition and you won't even need to ask where the underpants section is because they will direct you to it the second you walk in the door with your shiny ball sprouting out of the gathered bunch of fabric in your crotch.
When I get around really old people I like to swear way more than usual. I'm not sure why.
By the way when I was on the basketball court with my cameltoe men's edition, everyone was so distracted by my one ball hanging out that every slam dunk was missed. Yup, just get your own team some kind of testicle blinders and let one nut hang out your wiener door secret weapon steeze. Victory is yours my friend.
August 18, 2007
How To Blow Off RockStars, A Famous Dude Named Jim & Filming Donny Osmond Do His Best Impersonation of Me
A famous rock band for which a friend of mine is a stylist was asking me to take their picture last night. I was being non-committal about the whole thing because truthfully, I really don't like their style, which seems like it would be a reflection on my friend who styles them, but you know, one must work within the confines of another's already established image I guess so I don't blame her. She has good style on her own. As I discussed my ideas with said rock band they kept hmmning and hawing and trying to steer me in rather douchebaggy waters so just kept talking about how busy I am -- which is true, but I couldda squeezed them in if I wouldda wanted.
After that I wandered around the ship deck and plopped my self down for a nap in a really comfortable arm chair. I drifted off to sleep and dreamed about dogs.
"Excuse me merkley???" a voice said as I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Excuse me merkley???"
I lifted my head up to see that I had been joined by a multi generational family of very well groomed, perfectly tailored people all staring at me uncomfortably.
"Excuse me merkley???, but do you know a really famous man named Jim?" A little girl asked.
"Ummmm, I don't think so, I mean there are lots of famous Jims but I don't think I know any of them personally... why do you ask?"
As soon as I asked that question I noticed that I had obviously chosen a reserved section on the deck of the ship for my nap. Apparently it was reserved for some famous guy named Jim and his family. These people were gently trying to convince me to be on my way.
"Oh excuse me, I said, I didn't notice, I will get out of your way. Say hi to Jim for me." I said as I straightened out my suit and bid them see ya.
In the ship's massive theater they were filming a new muppet movie and the guest host was Donny Osmond who was apparently dressed up to look just like me with the beard and white velcro shoes and everything. I was going to be annoyed until I realized it was more of a tribute to me than anything else. The Camera man/crane operator didn't show up so I volunteered even though I had never operated a crane. All the rehearsals went flawlessly as I glided down the whole theater for a sweeping overhead audience shot landing perfectly on a close-up of Donny's face. When it came time to actually do the shot for real, I kept over correcting which steered me in the wrong directions, going too high or too low or way off to the side. Bummer. Beginners luck I guess. They thought I was just being funny because I always turn my mistakes into jokes.
Down in the basement another group was filming a techno music video and once again my vibe was blatantly copied. They even had an entire closet full of white velcro shoes. Apparently it was copy merkley??? day yesterday. I don't know whether to be annoyed or flattered -- I can be both right?
After that I wandered around the ship deck and plopped my self down for a nap in a really comfortable arm chair. I drifted off to sleep and dreamed about dogs.
"Excuse me merkley???" a voice said as I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Excuse me merkley???"
I lifted my head up to see that I had been joined by a multi generational family of very well groomed, perfectly tailored people all staring at me uncomfortably.
"Excuse me merkley???, but do you know a really famous man named Jim?" A little girl asked.
"Ummmm, I don't think so, I mean there are lots of famous Jims but I don't think I know any of them personally... why do you ask?"
As soon as I asked that question I noticed that I had obviously chosen a reserved section on the deck of the ship for my nap. Apparently it was reserved for some famous guy named Jim and his family. These people were gently trying to convince me to be on my way.
"Oh excuse me, I said, I didn't notice, I will get out of your way. Say hi to Jim for me." I said as I straightened out my suit and bid them see ya.
In the ship's massive theater they were filming a new muppet movie and the guest host was Donny Osmond who was apparently dressed up to look just like me with the beard and white velcro shoes and everything. I was going to be annoyed until I realized it was more of a tribute to me than anything else. The Camera man/crane operator didn't show up so I volunteered even though I had never operated a crane. All the rehearsals went flawlessly as I glided down the whole theater for a sweeping overhead audience shot landing perfectly on a close-up of Donny's face. When it came time to actually do the shot for real, I kept over correcting which steered me in the wrong directions, going too high or too low or way off to the side. Bummer. Beginners luck I guess. They thought I was just being funny because I always turn my mistakes into jokes.
Down in the basement another group was filming a techno music video and once again my vibe was blatantly copied. They even had an entire closet full of white velcro shoes. Apparently it was copy merkley??? day yesterday. I don't know whether to be annoyed or flattered -- I can be both right?
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