I Once Had a Dream

that Oprah was protested for justifying materialism with philanthropy.
that my roommate killed my fetus with a hand-drill.
that a man hacked me to pieces with meat cleavers.
that I was a 19th century botanist exploring the newly acquired Louisiana Purchase.
that someone stole my Hot Pocket when all I owned was a pair of underwear.
that Bill Clinton said the word "rats" was unpatriotic, so we took a vote and renamed them "victory vermin."

Darlin' Can't You Hear Me?

I wish.

Second Installment of "Embarrassing But True"

Spring 2002

Soccer Homecoming

Dream

I had a dream last night that I was a zombie amongst a vast zombie army. Our skin was white, and we posessed super-strength. We hated killing, but our actions were controlled by a powerful, unseen mind. Our commander was a red werewolf who was more vicious than any zombie or any other beast of hell. We attacked underground refugee cities and slaughtered the humans within. While trying to track down a child I caught a glimpse of what the world looked like above ground. The image was so powerful that I became human again. What remained of the human race congregated and built a fortified city. When the hope of survival seemed dim, alien ships came from outer space and dropped packages of food and health supplies. My friend was labeled an Elder by the new system of government although he was no older than me. We had to escort him to the very outskirts of the city for his exile as an Elder. He would constantly be in peril of being the first victim of an attack of the undead army.

A Letter to Tetris

Dear Tetris,

This letter is an official invitation into the Hall of My Bitches. That's right Tetris! It all happened last night when I was at level 15, the L's, the Z's, and the T's where dropping like DFA, but I was not going to stand down. The four-blocked lines, the squares, and the backward Z's were raining down like fire and brimstone, but I was not fazed. I was holding my own, and you got nervous. I was only four lines up from the bottom when the screen froze and the words "Game Over" appeared. You gave up my former friend. You couldn't take the heat, so you got out of the kitchen. I Gamed Over you, Tetris. You are now my bitch, so shut up and take your seat next to Mario Brothers 3, skeet shooting, and DDR. Hang your pitiful head in humility amongst Calculus, home-made pizza, and my roommates' dog, Boscow. You will only speak when spoken to. You will not be cuddled after sex. You have even lost your right to vote. I once respected you, but after the night of July 1st, 2008, you became my bitch. Don't fuck with me, Tetris. I will fuck you up!

Sincerely,
EDW

Embarrassing But True

Christmas 1999

Damaged

Do-do you got a first aid kit handy?
Do-do you know how to patch up a wound?
Tell me.
Are-are-are-are you? Are you patient, understanding...

Blech. Girl groups. Worse than boy bands. Not worse because of how hard they blow. Not worse because of the multitudes of gay men in their following. Worse because their tunes are much catchier.
Get the hell out of my head, Pussycat Dolls! Leave me alone, Dannity Kane! Don't even go there, Girlicious!
Even you Destiny's Child, back the fuck off!

She Uses Vaseline?

Watch this.
Watching this video started something. It started my unhealthy obsession with Ms. Banks. I can't get enough Tyra Banks on YouTube. I love her videos, but not because I love her. Have you seen the one in which she cries and tells everyone to "kiss her fat ass"? Have you seen the one in which the porcupine causes her to fall over? Have you seen the one in which the baby grabs her boob? All ridiculous. All solid gold.
I know she's a strong, independent woman (and so is her momma). She reminds us often, but, I mean come on, she's weird, man. Have you seen the one in which she pretends to be Chingy's uncle?
So here's the straight dope. I've been talking to some friends about Ms. Banks and a theory is evolving. According to the reflections, observances, and common sense of friends it has been decided that Tyra Banks is an alien. I know! I know! I've already claimed that Anne Coulter is an alien and a guy is very limited on how often he can play the Alien Card, but listen. It all began when I was watching the Vaseline video and I asked one friend if he thought that she may have been menstruating that day. Eventually we came to the conclusion that Tyra does not menstruate, she lays an egg. I ran this idea by another friend and she postulates that the laying of the egg is a semi-annual event, and the hatchling develops into America's Next Top Model. Case closed.
You may find this a little bizarre and perhaps cruel, but, seriously, have you seen the one in which she gives primordial dwarfs iPod shuffles and make-overs?

Now

I can't hold a banana in one hand and make a turkey sandwich with the other. I just can't do it.

Finally

It's summer.
I'm going to go watercolor.
I'm inspired by fish.
I'm going to go watercolor a fish of summer.
I'm going to give it away to a deserving friend.

Shouldn't Have Done It, Kid.

I was supposed to be challenged. I was supposed to grow. I was supposed to learn.

The validity of my existence was challenged.

I grew more and more bitter each passing day.

I learned to hate myself and my religion.