Monthly Archives: August 2008

play-by-play

God, it is so great to be here in New York. On Chris’ blog. In New York. The new York internets are so much more sophisticated than the ones we have in Portland, Oregon. And also…ruder. But I digress.

Hello! I’m Kiala from Face of the Cookie. Exciting right? I’m all famous and shit.

Okay yes, that is not true but I like to say it outloud to other people besides myself whenever possible and especially on the webospheres because it sounds super legit.

And look – I’m even doing those one line sentence zinger thingies Chris does! It’s like he’s still here with us. Please don’t tell him I went through his medicine cabinet.

Anyhadoodle. I have a topic and I would very much like to topicalize on it with you fine Surviving Myself Peoples.

The topic for today is: Kiala Explains Sports

Sports are a game wherein many people (men, mostly…let’s be honest) rub their parts on each other until someone in charge wearing stripes yells at them and then everyone drinks beer. A lot of other things happen in between like online shopping, Jezebel reading, and makeup application but…whoa….wait. Okay sorry, I somehow cut and pasted my Google Calendar in there.

Moving on!

Dudes in matching colors go to war with each other over “turfs” and “bidznass” and “enz” and then Ice T says he is a nightmare walking, psychopath talking,
King of his jungle just a gangster stalking and they multiply. Colors.

Okay, I guess I don’t really get sports. Sorry.

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freak out

Listen up everyone – I’ve got great news:  West Nile is back!

That’s right!  You remember back in 1999 when it first struck unnecessary fear into the hearts of millions of Americans right?  Well if you don’t, now is your time to shine!

I was just reading the Times and they are reporting that a 75 year-old man from Long Island died from the disease yesterday.

So have at it.

Whoever is next to you right now, turn to them and start talking about the good ol’ Nile.  Try and make it sound like they could get it at any moment: “You know, I have noticed some mosquitos near the coffee machine.  You go there a couple times a day right?”

Do it!

If there’s no one around for you to talk to, first – why don’t you have any friends, you loser? and second send emails out to some people and alert them that The Nile is coming for them!  Right now!  And their dog!

With West Nile striking fear back into our hearts, we can now brush aside things that we should be worried about and focus all of our energy on a virus that we’ll most likely never contract.

Having a hard time paying the bills?  Forget ’em!  You might get West Nile and then what would bills matter?

Girlfriend dumped you because you spend more time drinking Mad Dog and watching Fraggle Rock DVD’s than hanging out with her?  Hellooooo????  West Nile is really to blame here, not anything you did.

And I haven’t even started to talk about how lucky you are if you get sick any time soon.

Got the sniffles?  West Nile it is!

Nagging cough?  You’re going to die for sure!

Still think Margaret Cho is funny?  That’s just The Nile talking silly!

Just when I thought my life could not be more boring and lackluster, West Nile Virus has knocked on my door and greeted me with a big smile.

The only way today could get any better is if I get bit by a mosquito during lunch.  I’d run through the streets, screaming at the top of my lungs “I gots the West Nile!!!  I gots the West Nile!!!”  Then I’d try to sneeze on someone close to me, just to make his day, too.

 

(I’m won’t be around tomorrow, but I have a guest blogger lined up that will knock your socks off.  Or maybe just make you laugh so much your feet get hot and you take them off yourself.  Either way, please come by tomorrow and enjoy one of my favorite bloggers ever.)

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float like a butterfly

In the spirit of Learning Something New every 15 years or so, I’m now learning how to box.

Every day at the gym, I run, I lift and then I box.  Not with other people – I’m not some kind of idiot. I just hit the bag.

It is a lot of fun and a great workout and blah, blah, blah.

I could go on and on about how it improves your coordination, endurance and strength, but let’s be honest – I’m in it for the nickname.

Everyone knows the best part about boxing is the handle you get when you start learning the sport. Granted, I’m not actually fighting anyone other than a large, heavy, leather-bound bag, so I don’t really need a nickname, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want one.

I just want something to recite in my head as I hit that bag: “Chris The ________ My Last Name!”  (I’m not giving you my last name because then I know you’ll stalk me and probably ask for my autograph on your forehead and then we’ll get drinks and I’ll make you pay after you tell me you stole a pair of my boxer briefs.)

I don’t want it to be something too cheesy either, so I’m immediately crossing out The Destroyer, Hits You Hard and Iron Fists.

Yes, those were some I thought of this morning, and no, I am not more creative than that.

I also want it to be something that really strikes fear into that bag, because trust me, even though it’s an inanimate object, it’s heavy and it wears you out.  Kind of like trying to figure out Memento.

Of course I have to rule out anything to do with blogging, because I just don’t think “The Meme Poster” or “Obsessive Stats Checker” really have the effect I’m looking for.

I’ve thought of several more since I started writing this, and I have one now that I think I like.

Ready?

“Prime Cut.”

Oh snap!

You love it don’t you???

Think about it – it works on so many levels.  First, I’m a vegetarian, so there’s irony or something literary at work there and second (and the best reason) I deliver Grade A punches sucka!

Man, I am a genius or at the very least someone with too much time on his hands.

Okay, probably the latter, but really, could you do any better?

I can’t wait until tomorrow so I can tell the bag about my new nickname.  I will probably not tell the people training me, though.  I don’t want to make them jealous or anything.

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oh yes, it will be good

There are times in a person’s life when he must go against what he believes to be right – when he must turn to the world and scream, “Yes, you may judge me – but I am doing this despite your challenges!”

It is these times, these moral wrestling matches, that make us who we are.

Perhaps it was that time you decided that turtlenecks were okay to wear in public, or maybe it was when you tried desperately to bring back “rad,” even though all of your friends stopped hanging out with you as a consequence.

You hear the whispers.

You see the stares.

Oh how they talk!

Oh how they stare!

But you press on.  You press on because who are they to tell you your behavior is deplorable?  Have they not sinned???  Were they not the ones who told you Paris Hilton’s album was worth buying?

Yes, you know them well.

And that is why you steel yourself to their disapproval.

You will do what you must because the end result will bring you much happiness.  You do this because every second of it will make you smile.

Yes, your decision is rash.  Yes, your decision is confusing.  But not to you.  In your heart you know that after all the smoke clears and the dust settles, you will be a better person for having gone through with it.

When I heard that Kim Kardashian was going to be on the next Dancing With The Stars, I knew this was one of those times for me.

I will watch her, not because it is something I want to do, because it is something I must do.

When the world asks me why, I will not offer a complex reason.

I will not utter some intellectual comeback.

Instead I will laugh at their foolishness, hand them this picture and calmly explain, “Ass so fat you can see it from the front.”

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a portrait of the artist as a young man

Writing has been a part of me ever since I was about ten years old, and I have a collection of notebooks to prove it.

Of course I didn’t call the notebooks diaries, I called them “Gatekeepers.”  Currently, I have about ten volumes of the Gatekeeper in my apartment, which I’m sure will be sold to the highest bidder when I die and everyone finally understands my genius.

But just so you don’t have to wait until then, I have unearthed three true gems from my childhood for your viewing pleasure.

The following literary masterpieces were written when I was about 14 years old.

Can you feel the despair?

Despite the girl leaving me “etched in stone,” I can’t seem to remember her name now.

And what about this other guy who is short and blue?  Was this girl who caused me so much anguish dating a smurf???  Was I really that much of a loser when I was 14 that a smurf beat me?

Yes, I smoked at 14 – I had to, okay?  I was a poet!

I think the best line of this one is “long lines for the bathroom.”  If having to wait a long time to piss doesn’t make you write dark poems about how your vacation sucks, there’s something wrong with you.

Man, did I capture what it must be like to be a tire or what???

Please, though – I know I insist that you “drop your kid and see to the tire,” but don’t ever do that.  Put the kid in the car seat first.

Those are just a few of the hundreds of poems that one day I’m sure will garner millions of dollars from collectors of my works.

Maybe next time I’ll share the one I wrote about rain and how I didn’t care that it was hitting my face because “all I ever wanted was her.”

But that’s only if you’re lucky.

(New links are up on the Okay Playa page, go check them out and support those great bloggers.)

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two worlds

This morning when I took Jack out to pee, I saw a hooker standing across the street from me and when she noticed me she smiled and said, “Good morning.”

I nodded and mumbled “Good morning” back, but it struck me that my definition of a Good Morning and her definition of a Good Morning are probably pretty different.

At that point in my day, a good start to me means that I got Jack to piss right away, I caught all the highlights I wanted to see on Sportscenter and I didn’t curse the heavens when I was trying to get my tie to cooperate.

For the hooker, I imagine it’s a slightly varied version.

In fact, for a hooker to have a Good Morning, it means that she had a Good Night, because that’s when all the action happens.

It must have meant that she got at least three guys to have sex with her, and maybe if she was lucky it was all at once – much more time efficient.

After that was done, she probably had some time to kill, so maybe she made a visit to the local crack dealer and got high while listening to The Beach Boys or something relaxing like that.

Then, feeling good and feeling fine, she probably roughed up the new girl on the block just to let her know “who the real bitch is.”

So when she finally ran into me, with my half open eyes and t-shirt on backwards, she probably thought I needed something to lift my spirits, thus the cheery greeting.

And even now, I bet her day is going better than mine, because I’m here at work and she’s probably passed out on the sidewalk somewhere, not a care in the world.

Well, aside from worrying about when she’s going to have sex with a random person for money again, but c’mon – who who hasn’t been there before?

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down under

I’m not big on traveling, but one place that has always intrigued me, should I be forced to travel – is Australia.

I dare you to try and think of one bad thing about Australia.

You can’t!

I’ve loved that weird place ever since I saw Crocodile Dundee for the first time many years ago.  Who doesn’t love that crazy guy?  I imagine every male over the age of seven is exactly like Dundee – walking around with a big ass knife and wrestling crocs wearing a leather vest with no shirt on underneath.

Australia is also home to the boomerang.  I’d visit just for this alone.  I could come back to the states after mastering the skill and anytime I needed something from someone – whap!  I’d hit them with my boomerang instead of having to say, “Hey, could you hand me that folder?”

Much more effective don’t you think?  And without Australia we’d never even know about it!

Oh – I haven’t even mentioned the animals that live there.

Hey ladies, how about a koala?  Love them!  You can snuggle it instead of your boyfriend after sex.  Okay, maybe that’s a little weird, but either way, koalas are damn cute and you know you love them.

I know, now all you guys are thinking, “Well, what about us?  What animal do we get?”

Kangaroos man!

If I visited Australia, the first thing I’d do is find a Roo (I’ve studied extensively for this post and I now know the local language) and befriend it.

Roos are arguably the coolest animal ever.  They’re like that big, dopey roommate you had in college, always good to have on your side in case a fight breaks out, but also kind of dangerous because you never know when he’s going to snap after one too many Bud Lights and kick your ass instead.

I bet you didn’t even know Roos drank, did you?

Of course they do!

That’s yet another part about Australia that makes it fucking awesome – every single living organism is drunk all the time!

It’s not like here, where people expect you to be a loser by being sober during most of your waking hours.

I’ve sold you haven’t I?

You want to visit Australia now, I know it.  Well, let’s do it.  Get your tickets and I’ll meet you by the tree near the landing strip.

I’m sure I’ll already be shitfaced with my new friend Larry The Roo, but come over and say hi anyway, we’re both happy drunks.

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