I guess he was hungry for something BEYOND Beyond Meat?

I guess he was hungry for something BEYOND Beyond Meat?

Dear Tracy,
I’m sorry that you high-handed me at the shopping mall while you were walking with all of your friends last Saturday. I want you to know that I’m a much more mature person than you are and that I have added you to my nightly prayers.

I woke up at 3:11am from a dream where I was questioned about the source of my fortitude. My answer:
Dog DNA and God.
I need to stop eating before bed.
It isn’t that I don’t celebrate “Pi” day. I just celebrate it on July 22nd.
22/7
22over7.com


I’ve been told that my humor is for the birds – this was NOT what I thought they meant!
… dedicated to Susan. Sorry to wake you up at 2:30!!!


My daughter said that one of her friends at school was upset – telling her that he’d just been kicked out of his band.
I told her to tell him to form a NEW band called “FU to my old band” and then write a song called “I hope you all die in a bus accident!”
Fortunately she didn’t listen beyond telling him to form a new band!

What do you want – this stuff comes to me in my dreams (lucky for y’all that I only sleep 3 hours a night!)

… no class… I know – I never said I had any.
This is what the images should have looked like from my post “I feel a palindrome coming on…”


… sail on Olias!

I used this on a friend on a video-call… it had exactly this effect.

I was having breakfast and when an ambigram “WOW MOM” came to me. That reminded me of my fondness for palindromes. Actually…
hold that thought!

After checking an email and a few other things I saw THIS message from the beyond!



I’ve never tried one – and I’m sure I wouldn’t like it if I did.
I’m sorry folks. Apparently I used the same cartoon TWICE (with two different sets of copy)… though to my credit both subconsciously reference back to Kubrick’s “2001”.
I can’t believe my editor/writer/artist and quality control person (all me) could let that happen… I’m as incensed as I am saddened by this breech of basic blogging etiquette.


Apparently Senator Schumer was confused; actually he just used GEICO to save a bunch of money on his car insurance.

Standing in line to wait for my son at school; this came to me!








Part of the problem with decentralized work arrangements is that when you don’t all drink from the same water-bubbler you can’t share insights about what you’re working on.
Clearly if the two authors of these stories had had 5 min to chat about their current list of topics neither one of them would have been so shocked.

Is it just me or is it ‘fun’ to see when the OTHER PERSON will finally go under the sink and pull out another tube of toothpaste?
(this is like leaving exactly 1 sheet of toilet paper on the roll)

The genesis of these toothbrush diplomacy posts comes from my own medicine cabinet. Just the other day my blue toothbrush was gone and replaced by a very nice moss-green unit.
The problem is my wife replaced hers with a really cool looking pink brush! And every day I almost grab it to brush MY teeth… then I come to my green senses.
I’ve got to say – I’m not prepared to get old. Life isn’t what I thought it would be when I was 20 years younger.
For one thing – bed isn’t what I thought it would be. Last night before turning over to go to sleep my wife asked me a really provocative question:
“Are we using a drying agent in the dishwasher?”
I guess it was the idea of sheeting that got her going.


… the time-stamp is really freaking me out.
I’m not going to edit this at all so that the number can stay true.



It should be “gentle” not gentile!!! Oy!!!!
…and “bittered” not Blittered!!!


I woke up this morning to find that comedic Norm Macdonald has died.
Again – this is tough to convey in writing (but I’ll try). As a funny person (or so I’m told) I am always on the lookout for new and original insights to share with people around me. The goal is to say things that no one has said (you hope) and get a laugh from people (you hope). While the insights are as fresh and new as possible – you can’t help being influenced by people who impress you and that you admire.
That list of people consists of names like:
Jackie Gleason
Jerry Lewis
Don Rickles
Robin Williams
Jacky Mason
Mitch Hedberg
Albert Brooks
Steve Wright
… so so many more that I’d love to list (but to get to the point)
Norm Macdonald is/was a huge influence.
A lot of times ‘straight’ people (not about people’s preferences in the romance department – but rather a designation for people who don’t color outside of the lines) who listen to Norm Macdonald jokes don’t find them funny. On paper they aren’t traditionally funny. They are weird and quirky and require a little latitude to stimulate disparate synapses in the users brain to find them funny.
Another aspect to Norm Macdonald’s comedy that defies conventional logic is his timing. Again, on paper, his timing was a train-wreck – his delivery was all pauses and verbal hedges… but when punctuated with a visual cue like a goofy look or an eyebrow gesture or a shrug of the shoulders – hilarious!
One of the things that made Norm a fearless comic was his willingness, perhaps eagerness to bomb or at least TRY to bomb. He’d tell jokes that were not funny. They weren’t meant to be funny – they were verbal padding to his next joke or the next joke after that. Just in the same way a pitcher in baseball will throw several seemingly misguided pitches to a waiting batter, Norm will set-up a performance one pitch at a time until he can finally get you to bite on something slippery (hehehehehe) and then he’s got you.
Watching routine after routine after routine of his I was able to learn that jokes are not just random words arranged for comedic effect: they are in families. Through his work he demonstrated the craft of technical joke writing at its finest. Perhaps the best illustration of this was his quest for the ‘so-called’ perfect joke; a joke where the wind-up and the punchline are virtually identical.
”Julia Roberts told reporters this week that her marriage to Lyle Lovett has been over for some time… The key moment she said came when she realized that SHE was Julian Roberts and that she was married to Lyle Lovett.”
Of course any 5 year-old can be MORE economical than that and just say a word or phrase that is funny in a particular setting. And get laughs… but that’s not a joke and it’s not joke writing. It isn’t striving to perfect a craft.
Another thing I’d like to point out about Norm (as though I knew him!) was his final performance on David Letterman. For his final appearance on the soon to be closed Letterman show he came out and did a a new set. Then to close it out told his favorite LETTERMAN joke (from when DL was a traveling stand-up comic). The most important part about his set wasn’t his material or Dave’s material – it was the fact that he got choked-up telling the final bit. That image has stuck with me.
…I’m not going to tell THAT joke – but instead one of his ‘complex’ jokes.
(I nicked this from The Sun… thanks guys!)
****
From an appearance on Conan O’Brien (another comedic genius!)
****
During his interview with O’Brien, Macdonald tells a joke about a moth who sees a podiatrist.
“What’s the problem?” the podiatrist asks.
“What’s the problem? Where do I begin? I go to work for Gregory Illinivich, and all day long, I work. Honestly, doc, I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t even know if Gregory Illinivich knows.
“He only knows that he has power over me, and that seems to bring him happiness. But I don’t know, I wake up in a malaise, and I walk here and there… at night I…I sometimes wake up and I turn to some old lady in my bed that’s on my arm,” the moth says.
The insect adds: “A lady that I once loved, doc. I don’t know where to turn to. My youngest, Alexandria, she fell in the…in the cold of last year. The cold took her down, as it did many of us.
“And my other boy, and this is the hardest pill to swallow, doc. My other boy, Gregarro Ivinalititavitch… I no longer love him.
“As much as it pains me to say, when I look in his eyes, all I see is the same cowardice that I… that I catch when I take a glimpse of my own face in the mirror.”
The moth continues: “If only I wasn’t such a coward, then perhaps…perhaps I could bring myself to reach over to that cocked and loaded gun that lays on the bedside behind me and ends this hellish facade once and for all.
“Doc, sometimes I feel like a spider, even though I’m a moth, just barely hanging on to my web with an everlasting fire underneath me. I’m not feeling good.”
And so the doctor says, “Moth, man, you’re troubled. But you should be seeing a psychiatrist. Why on earth did you come here?”
To which the moth replies: “Cause the light was on.”
*****
Norm – you are already missed.

I have to say – the last time I tried to IMPLANT something into my HEAD it wasn’t advised. And I’m 100% sure that it voids your warranty.
Mea Culpa: I get bored. Things are clicking along nicely and then I think “what if I start to lace my shoes from the top to the bottom instead of the bottom to the top? (Of course – you can’t get your feet in and out as easily! But it will look strange and cool! And isn’t THAT really what you want? To be strange and cool?) [Warm and familiar???]
I removed “the Jerk” from the header. Partly because I don’t always like to depict myself as a Jerk (but that movie STILL has a huge imprint on me and everything I do). And partly because I wanted something original. A few months back I made a promise to myself to do as much original stuff as possible… original material – of course. Original drawings (hmmmm….well – in due time!) Original fonts! So too with the imagery – original.

I met my wife for a tea at S’Bucks. Yes – we went to a coffee shop to order tea – EVIL isn’t it? I put my phone down on the table and saw the reflection of the lights and that RGB diffusion of light from one of the bulbs.
Take a photo of an image on a phone with another phone.
…slap some primitive editing tools on the image
… move the faders back and forth like an expert (full disclosure – I am NOT an expert. I’m not even smart enough to be a novice!)
And voila! “Starlight Communion” was born. Looks weird and celestial – but it is really a reverse image of a bunch of cylindrical plexiglass tubes of varying lengths handing from the ceiling.
One of these days I’ll be smart enough to post my resume to this site so people can have a laugh (or a scream).
Sorry to drop in unannounced
But this JUST popped into my head and I typed it as it came to me.
***
Emissaries of Nature
Man is pitiable but cute – so much scarcer than the ants.
They move terrain to harness winds
To create their fruited plains
To create their monuments
To congratulate themselves
For thousands of years of craft logic and skill
…you are no match for natures passionless emissaries
They work a tireless feat to reclaim all the bounty of her womb
Through Fire
Through Wind
Through Rain
And through the shifting of the Land
Each has it’s own logic and skill – unknown to Man
Moving from High to Low in every case
To cleanse the char of fire
To redirect the mighty winds
To force water through a valley
Where none has ever been seen.
To force a valley onto land
Where none has ever been seen.
***
You harvest timber from the skin of the land
To build small features there in which to dwell
I send fire to burn it to the ground
And till its meat back into the land.
You build your buildings and your boats
In the shadows of ‘thousand year’ rains
I send rain for 10 – 10,000 years
And suck your trinkets into my belly.
What man can build
Wind can deflate
From a parking sign to a tower
And if the wind can’t finish its job
The plates from underneath rift open
And swallow the entire lot WHOLE back to my furnace.
Men ARE clever. They do the best they can with what they have.
They need to rejoice in their victories
But pay heed to my passionless flow
For even the Gods of their logic and skill
On their final day of reckoning
Call on WHO to do their work?
The Fire
The Water
The Wind
And the shifting of the Land.

One of the downfalls of hunting in packs is that you’re only as good as the weakest link in the chain.
Sharks probably play cute pranks on each other… when they’re not apex predatoring.
(This is a test. No wrong answers)
Joseph “Giuseppe” Grossonaso was born in July 5th, 1978 at Mount Ida Hospital, Brooklyn, New York. Joseph was born via caesarian delivery when it was determined that his head – more specifically his nose- would not pass through the birth canal naturally.
His mother and father both beamed with pride at the sight of their newborn son. He was 8 pounds and 9 ounces, 21 inches long… his nose was 2 pounds even and 3 inches from the tip to his brow ridge.
“This boy will go on to do great things! He will be a success!” his father declared with a tear steaming from each of his eyes and dripping down his own, rather large, facial protrusion.
***
Pepino’s infant and toddler years were unremarkable, save for the inordinate number of times he stubbed his proboscis on things. In some ways it acted like a cat’s whiskers do – warning him of potential intrusions and pointing out where things were. You could say that light hit the tip of his nose a few moments before it made it to his eyes.
Grade school was a painful ordeal for pepino. The other children picked on him constantly and hurled any number of unflattering names at him. In time he became used to the harassment and Pepe was soon able to deflect them with the flinch of his neck.
Pepe would go home sullen and cry. His father and mother both knew it was hard for the boy to go through life with the dorsal fin of a shark drooping off his face. But they knew that was how God made him and that there must be a special reason for him to have such a tremendously huge ‘shnazola’!
When Pepino hit his teenage years he began to develop a curious skill – he could smell things! He could smell very small things – from bizarre distances. He could smell his mother open the salt shaker in the kitchen, all the way from his bedroom… upstairs… with the doors closed… and the windows open!
He trained his nose with certain sniffing exercises too. Placing drops of oils and esters around the house, he was able to make mental maps of where each was and became adept at visualizing each ones placement. These routines progressed to more and more different scents and their placements became more obtuse – but his nose never failed him. Soon he could smell certain flowers in distant bouquets and determine their numbers in relationships to the other flowers in the arrangement. At his grandmother’s funeral he could tell the exact number of ‘Baby’s Breath’ buds in an arrangement of Lillie’s and roses from the porch outside of the funeral home. Everyone who witnessed these olfactory displays was duly impressed.
Pepino trained his nose more still. He got to the point where his friend Rodney could put small drops of chemicals in a bucket of water with a lid on it in the basement and Pepe could detect them from the attic.
THIS was Joseph’s gift and his parents agreed that he needed to follow his nose into the only field that could make use of it…
***
The Perfumeries of Paris
Pepino arrived in Paris and was almost immediately in great demand from all of the perfume makers. He spend his days testing the most subtle and complicated blends of fragrances and soon established himself as the biggest ‘nose’ in the business.
One day Pepino was called into his bosses office – the big man himself: Marcel Provone. (Marcel was no slouch with his beak. It is said that he could estimate, down to the ml the amount of tea in a person’s cup just from the scent from across a room!). “Pepe – we have a special job for you. The boys over in Langley need to have you accompany one of their agents on a dangerous mission. You will be used to determine the authenticity of a scent. You will not know the scent in advance or how it will be used….”
“A new chemical???” Pepino sparked up to ask.
“No, nothing that sophisticated. Apparently, instead of using code words to identify each other – Langley wants the agents to wear scents that fit the profile of their covers and missions. You will sit with the agent – at a distance. You will pick up the scent and tell them. They will tell you when to fall back and come home.”
Pepino was slightly crest fallen that it wouldn’t be more thrilling – but he was proud to have his nose picked.
***
A week later, Pepe met agent Livgren. Livgren set it out for him. The counter agent would wear a specific amount of a specific fragrance on a specific part of the body – he had to tell him what everyone was wearing so as to authenticate that agent’s identity.
They went to the park and took their seats on park benches about 20 meters apart from each other. And they waited.
A man passed. “He’s slathered in ‘Canoe’…tons of it… all over his neck and upper chest!” He announced down his microphone.
“Not it” was the reply through his earpiece.
A woman with a dog passed. “…’L’air du Temps’ and not much of it. And it has gone stale and funny. She’s had it too long and isn’t storing it correctly… probably on a vanity or changing table that is exposed to direct sunlight for perhaps 4 hours a day…”
“Not it” was the call down the earpiece.
Finally, a young woman with a shopping bag walked past. “Hmmmmmmm. ‘Manifesto’ by YSL. Only two drops. And on the right ankle. It is muted by the high denier of her hosiery – but I’m certain of it!”
“Talk to you later Pepe! Head out!”
Joseph returned to his laboratory and never heard from agent Livgren again.
***
Five years later, he received an anonymous parcel at his desk. In it was a small lapel pin shaped like a triangle – labeled: “Becco D’oro”.
His work was done and it was a success.
(Written sometime in December 2014/January 2015)

Two of my greatest disappointments with movies are:
1) That the greatest ‘think piece’ movie I’ve seen in years is “DRIVE” with Ryan Gosling. Grrrrrr
And
2) That the last horror movie that really freaked me out was “8mm” with Francis Ford Copela’s nephew.

When I was a little kid, I shared a room with my brother. He was (still is) 6 years older than me so he got to pick what we watched on TV. Consequently I picked-up the first derivative of his warped sense of humor.
To this day Dick Van Dyke means “Burt” to 3/4 of my family. But he still reminds me of the Alan Brady Show.

Maybe cows can swim. Can they swim? If they could swim would they worry about sharks???
Maybe they should start.

A few years ago (15 or 16) Prada on Sloane Street had a collection of ‘exotic’ coats. The crocodile coat was grotesque … it made the wearer look like some kind of “Silence of the Lambs”/“Crocodile Dundee” smash up.
The seal skin coat was shockingly beautiful. It was also 10,000GBP and at the end of the day I couldn’t get the thought of those poor, sad little seals being bludgeoned to death for the sake of a chic coat. It wasn’t my size anyway.