The Story of the Lighter
Once upon a time there were two lighters. They were identical twins, and for some reason whenever one of them used his fuel, the other would lose the same amount of fuel. But anyways, the lighters' parents always preached the danger of starting forest fires to their children. The lighters' uncles, on the other hand, loved starting forest fires, and were always telling the young lighters how great a thrill it was, and that they too should start forest fires. One of the twins believed his parents were right, and viewed his uncles as crazy madmen. The other lighter saw things the opposite way, and began going all over town starting forest fires. Well when police searched for their suspect, they found one that fit the exact description, and was running pretty low on fuel for such a young lighter. Unfortunately, this was the innocent lighter, and he was forced to either accept his fate in lighter-prison, or use up all his fuel to stop his brother from starting more forest fires. Even more unfortunate was the fact that this would lead to the deaths of both lighters, even though the true lighters to blame were the uncles who told them that starting forest fires was fun.
By Jesse and Adrian (1/20/2012)
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Poem
Sitting in my living room alone. Silent. Drinking beer.
My roommate is masturbating in the other room.
I only drink Heineken because my Dad does.
If I listen hard I can hear the sound of 100,000 boys masturbating all over the world.
There are Christmas lights hanging around the room.
The dirty dishes are stacking up.
My ants are keeping on keeping on.
3:33pm on Westland Ave.
It’s funny to think about how
Everything choice I’ve ever made in my entire life
For good or for bad
Has led to me here, quietly knowing that my roommate is masturbating directly behind me
By Joseph (posted 10/12/2011)
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Pork Chop Gives Out A Joint
Alright so some crazy ass shit just went down. Jesse and I are still in disbelief.
So we went to a UCB improv show tonight, and it was awesome. After the show, Jesse and I both need to poop. Briefly, to provide context to the story, Jesse's toilet has been clogged all day, so we haven't been able to shit. Earlier in the day, Jesse had to crap in a Venice Beach public toilet, which is very similar to Hell, and I had to crap in a CVS bag. This is a desperate situation, we both need to poop real hard.
We go to the restroom, and find that there is only one proper unisex bathroom where we can poop. We get in line. Jesse goes in first and I am next.
The woman behind me says loudly, "Man that show was awful". Looks at me and says, "Didn't you think that show was terrible?"
"No, it was great"
"No, it was terrible"
Then her boyfriend hollers at me like, "Hey dude come over here the men's toilet is free"
I say, "No thanks, I have to poop"
Then the bitch in front of me is like "Let me go in front of you, I don't want to smell your fucking shit when I'm pissing"
I pause, thinking. "No. I'm in front of you"
Just then, a cute porky girl taps me on the shoulder, "Excuse me, can I use the restroom really fast? I spilled coke on foot, and just need to splash some water on it."
I pause, thinking. "Sure"
Jesse comes out, Pork Chop goes in, then the bitch spends a good minute telling me off, saying Im an asshole, Im not a gentlemen, My mother wouldnt approve. You have a bad relationship with your mother, dont you? I'm sorry your mother hates you, but that doesnt me you have to take it out on me by making me smell your tude.
Then the bitch storms off. Pork Chop comes out. She looks at me, and hands me a fat fucking joint, with the dankest shit Jesse and I have ever seen.
"Thanks"
And now gentlemen, we are about to smoke that shit, and stumble over to Melina's to get a plunger. Good day to you, sirs.
By Joseph (posted 6/24/2011)
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Super Blackout
I feel around. Carpet, my jacket draped over my legs, sweatshirt pillow, no shoes, it's cold, I'm still drunk. My eyes open, kind of. I can see the couch I'm lying behind. I hear people. Sitting up sucks. The party is slowly waking up, people line the couches and chairs of the basement. I steal a spot on the couch.
I listen people recap the night. There is talk of Cheerios, I don't remember Cheerios. There is talk of being upstairs, I don't remember being upstairs. There is talk of vomit, I don't remember vomit.
I think, nothing. I think really hard, nothing. Shit I blacked out.
I get up. Everything hurts. I go up stairs. Caroline walks me through what she remembers. She says I was curled up under the dining room table. Lo and behold, under the dinning room table there are Cheerios scattered in the outline of a curled up person. From there, I was told, I stumbled to the bathroom. Next to the toilet there is a small pile of Cheerios. I lift up the toilet seat. The toilet is covered in puke! (I would later learn that this particular puke was not mine) I close the lid and quickly leave.
The sun is fucking bright.
Last night was the longest I have ever blacked out. There is a significant portion of my night that I don't remember. It also led to the worst hangover. I fought a hour long battle with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The sandwich won. Only now, 7pm, can I say that I am no longer hungover.
By Jesse (Posted 1/1/2011)
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The Cat Hunt
Earlier this week my friend Alex was given a house and eight cats to take care of. The family that lives in the house has no control of their pets and did not let them inside before the blizzard.
So, there was a blizzard.
Day 0: We take roll call of the cats. There are three cats missing.
Day 1: The hunt begins. Alex and I launch into a perimeter search of the house. There are cat prints moving towards the backyard. The prints lead us in circles. There is snow in our shoes and we are becoming tired. The basement windows have screens in front of them. We notice some of the windows in the back were ripped open. Alex sticks his hand into one of the screens. Nothing. He dips his hand in another and pulls out the most skittish, shifty, grey and white cat of them all, Ridley. Ridley tries to escape from Alex's hands; it'd rather die than go back in the house. He throws the cat inside.
ONE CAT DOWN. TWO CATS TO GO.
Day 2: We arrive at the house in snow pants and boots. We are ready. Alex goes to open the door so we can plan our search when I hear a soft meow behind me. I motion to Alex to pause. Behind me, nothing. To the right, nothing. The left, nothing. The sound gets louder yet we see no cat. Suddenly, Alex points up and I see the kind-hearted, grey cat Lilith looking at us the roof. We get a chair, Alex grabs Lilith from the face and throws her inside the house.
TWO CATS DOWN. ONE CAT TO GO.
Later That Day: We arrive back at the house from our search and there stands the long-haired, orange and black Sweet Potatoe. The cat is grabbed with equal violence and tossed in the house. Here is the kicker: Sweet Potatoe wasn't missing. When doing roll call a cat was identified to be Sweet Potatoe. This cat is short-haired, orange and black. This is not Sweet Potatoe. We ask the family if they have any knowledge of owning a cat with these features. They do not.
Explaination, a stray cat has been living in the house without the family knowing.
TWO CATS DOWN. ADDITIONAL CAT FOUND. ONE CAT TO GO.
Day 3: We suit-up extra rough today. Snow pants on, snow jacket, tracking materials, we are ready. Alex and I have also added another member to the search party, David. We arrive at the house. Before we get to the door we see the loving, long-haired, grey Desdemona. We gently take the cat inside. David pulls out a joint.
THREE CATS DOWN. ADDITIONAL CAT FOUND.
CAT HUNT SUCCESS!
By Jesse (posted 12/30/2010)
