Friday, May 24, 2019

Asking for a Friend


How many toes are human beings supposed to have? Asking for a friend.

Do frogs have teeth? Asking for a friend.

My bro wants to know if he cuts it off, will it grow back?

This guy I went to high school with recently asked me how many planets are capable of supporting multi-donged alien life, and I have to have an answer to tell him, so... do you know?

Is it possible to get pregnant from a tractor seat? Asking for my girlfriend's best friend's sister-wife.

Are humans reptiles? Asking for Bill from the internet.

Is there scientific evidence that supports man-bigfoot sexual compatibility? Trying to settle a debate between friends.

Can babies breathe underwater? Asking for my mom.

Do dingos eat babies? Asking for someone who wants to become a Meryl Streep/cat-person hybrid.

Is Donald Trump actually a genius? Need data from the internet to support best-buddy's hypothesis and own the lib-tards on reddit.

Can one eat one's own poop to survive? My neighbor's dad is curious and don't want to be the bearer of bad news.

Do woodchucks really chuck wood and how can I own one? Does anyone know how much wood a woodchuck can chuck per hour? Will they chuck indefinitely or do you have to feed them a special food? How many woodchucks will support a wood chucking business? Some guy on the street wants to know.

Are the Dothraki a real people, and if so, how do you become one? My son wants to know, and I don't want to disappoint him.

Need irrefutable proof that Bronies are well-adjusted, valuable members of society. Asking for... somebody.

My friend wants to know how to become a real man. What should I tell him? Does anybody have specific strategies that work? Need to know ASAP. He's really impatient.

Can a moose love you as well as a person? That's a normal question to ask, right? My buddy just asked me this, and I don't want to end our relationship based on a stupid question. There are no stupid questions, correct? What should I tell him? Does anyone know?

Friday, May 17, 2019

New Music: Black Philip




I've had this song written for a while, just haven't had a chance to record it. Probably the first real bluesy number I've ever done. Did the entire thing in Reason (except for the vocals, which were recorded in Audacity), and though I really wanted to put some guitar in, I just couldn't make it work.

Tuesday, May 7, 2019

Benioff and Weiss Writing Game of Thrones


Benioff and Weiss sit on leather couches in a luxurious living space. Benioff has a glass of sparkling mineral water in his hand; it was flown down from the Rocky Mountains only a day before. Weiss has a pile of the finest cocaine spread out on the coffee table. A clump of it is stuck in his right nostril.

"Well it's time to do some work, B," Weiss says, sniffling. He takes a pencil out of his pocket and spends a couple minutes trying to place it in between his fingers.

"Yep, got to get this shit finished," replies Benioff. He opens his laptop and clicks on a Word document entitled "Big Budget Fantasy Shit That'll Make Us as Rich as Davey Crockett."

"Okay, so they killed the ice dude, and now Jon and Dragon Lady have to get to King's Landing for the real final confrontation with Lena Headey. How we going to set that up? After killing a million zombies, it's kind of a let-down to get back to hum-drum mortal affairs."

"Maybe we should've done it the other way," suggests Weiss. "Have them deal with Cersei first, then fight the Night King."

"Naw, Lena's our best actor, so she's gotta be the main villain. You haven't been looking at George's notes again, have you? I thought I burned those."

"You did," admits Weiss. He takes some cocaine and smears it on his cheeks like war paint.

"You and me, bro, we're the real geniuses here. We don't need George's notes. If that tunky bastard cared about Game of Thrones, he would've finished the story years ago. He'd rather roll around in the massive pile of money HBO gave him."

Weiss snorts.

"He ain't getting paid shit compared to us," he says.

"That's because we're the real brains behind the throne, so to speak," says Benioff. "You like that line? Maybe we can have Tyrion say it."

"We got to come up with an outline first," says Weiss. "How are we going to weaken Dany and Jon? They're still too strong to make Cersei a believable threat."

"The same thing we always do, bro. Let's pull something out of our asses. Wait! I got it! Get rid of one of the dragons!"

"They're supposed to be the medieval equivalent of nuclear weapons," responds Weiss. "How are we going to get rid of something that we've built up to be so powerful? We got rid of the Night King and his rocket arm."

"Okay, so Urine..."

"It's Euron."

"Same difference. Eurotrash pirate guy installs some big-ass crossbows on his fleet. These crossbows are so big that they punch right through Dany's ships like they're made of twigs. So he's got a big sight on his cross bow, and he aims it at one of the dragons like he's aiming a machine gun. Boom! Dogo's dead! Shocking!"

"We can't kill Drogo yet. That's Dany's dragon. We have to kill the other one. Rhaegal or whatever he's called."

"Okay, so we've murdered Ronald. We have to have a shocking human death too. Who do you think should get the axe?"

Weiss coughs and flutters his eyelids. He seems to have momentarily forgotten where he is or what he was doing.

"I got it!" he says moments later. "How many black people we got on this show? Like two?"

"Diversity hires," says Benioff by way of explanation.

"Let's kill one of them," suggests Weiss.

"Yeah, that'll piss off the internet. Good idea. Got anything else?"

"Like, maybe we should include some good dialogue and interesting character interaction so that people remember why they started watching the show in the first place."

Benioff stares at Weiss like he's just admitted that he's a cannibal.

"I knew it. You got George's notes somewhere, don't you? You copied them. Goddamnit, bro.

"I don't know what the fuck we're doing," admits Weiss.

"The audience doesn't care, bro! They come for the tits, blood, and dragons! We only got two more of these to write, and then we get to fuck up Star Wars! Star Wars, man! Can you imagine?"

Weiss snorts the rest of the cocaine off the coffee table and leans back in his seat.

"You're right, man. Do whatever you want. I'm going to check out for a bit. Maybe visit the Lord of Light."

"Alright," says Benioff. He jumps up and down, screaming like a monkey while ramming his knuckles on the keyboard. After fifteen minutes or so he tires and saves his hard work.

Wednesday, May 1, 2019

What a Load of Crap

Consider:

Imagine you're an immortal ice wizard who has systematically been planning an apocalypse for thousands of years. You've amassed the greatest army of zombies Westeros has ever seen. You killed a freaking dragon with a javelin like an Olympic champ, and you dragged that dead dragon out of a frozen river and made it your zombie steed. After using said dragon to destroy the magical ice wall that's kept you out of Westeros for millennia, you marched your assembled forces to Winterfell where all the good guys have sequestered themselves. Real geniuses, this bunch. None of them seem to have the slightest grasp of military tactics. They waste their light cavalry on a morale-destroying charge. They stack all their infantry behind their trenches. They don't use pitch or armor the castle walls with obsidian. They have two dragons to your one, but instead of roasting your army, they fly off into your magical blizzard like two jabronis.

So your army breaches their walls and slaughters pretty much everybody. You should've sensed that something was wrong when Brienne of Tarth survived several zombie mobs without explanation. Same goes for pretty-boy Lannister. But since everything was going to plan, you decide to march into the weirwood garden to decapitate the autistic savant. That was probably the big fuck-up, in retrospect. The Three-Eyed Raven knows the past, present, and future, so if he's sitting there, chill as a cucumber, when you're about to whip out your ice sword, then he knows something.

But you just let it pass. After all, the idiots are all either occupied or about to be dead. Jon Snow, the military genius, is stuck in the courtyard battling a zombie dragon. The Queen is dragonless, so she's basically useless. Those are the only two remotely on your level. Little do you know that there's an assassin lurking about. Maybe she's in the trees. That's pretty much the only explanation since much of your army is in the weirwood garden about to bear witness to Bran's execution. When she drops behind you, your super-reflexes manage to grab her by the neck. Unfortunately, she's got quick hands and you've got a obsidian knife in the belly. What the fuck?

If you were going to die, it was going to be to that doofus Snow or dragonfire, and you passed both of those tests. Who gave Arya the ability to teleport? Did somebody toss her like a dwarf past the zombie horde? Hell, she literally came outta nowhere to RKO your ass like a tiny Randy Orton. What a bunch of goddamn bullshit.

Couple of seasons ago, the show switched genres on you, and you never realized it. Game of Thrones started as a medieval political drama with a dash of fantasy thrown in to spice things up. If characters made mistakes (Nedd, Rob), they paid for them. Once they ran out of book material to adapt, however, Game of Thrones became a Hollywood fantasy where the good guys are protected by plot armor, and evil is defeated, even when evil is so much smarter than said good guys. Come on, isn't it hard to root for Jon Snow or Daenerys when they keep making stupid decisions and never learning from their mistakes?

Oh well, you say. You're just a bunch of crumbling ice now. There are no rules, so maybe you'll reconstitute yourself and show up in the season finale like a Bond villain that won't die. That would be pretty sweet, right? You have something to hope for now. Maybe winter really is coming. Again.

New Music: Firefly

  A twelve-year old song that I wrote in Cincinnati. I don't believe it was ever played live, which is a shame, since it's a nice li...