Gatorade Deep Dive

Having been used for centuries an aphrodisiac, male fertility aid, and colic salve, the elixir Gatorade is synonymous with re-birth. Its mentions in the weekly logs of  our fathers, grandfathers, and ultrafathers leads most to assume that Gatorade is as old as time itself, but how far back does it really go?

I’ve been a scholar of Gatorade ever since my father revealed to me on a warm June night out in the brambles of the carrot hedge that our bodies are 80% Gatorade. Over the years my studies have taken a backseat to making my own car out of stuff I find out behind the local tin shop, but my fascination remains. Here is what I’ve learned with the hope that a new generation of Liquidteers grab the baton and bring forth this knowledge into the unknown.

Who?

Gatorade is not male, female, animal or plant. Gatorade is a bottled wet water replacement that achieved ubiquity when allied soldiers sought an exotic taste experience pre-death.

Its creator is shrouded in mystery, not unlike life itself. But like life itself, we are fairly certain it was created by accident by a big guy. There is an Irish folktale that speaks of a dark Shadow distraught by unrequited love who took to the rainy streets of Cork crying tears of neon saline. The Shadow saw its reflection in a lonely puddle and was moved by its simple beauty. The Shadow’s tears dripped into the puddle and a new liquid was created that when sipped by passing street urchins, granted them the power to do 360 degree spins.

This rendering hangs in Ireland’s National Gallery and is said to have inspired a young Bono to start writing songs about sweat.

What?

Its viscosity is consistent across all bottles but its colour palette is not.

Its spectrum is otherworldly compared to ours–spend a lifetime in Birmingham then take a hydroplane to Cancun and perhaps you’ll understand. If its light were to be refracted through a prism it would look as if filtered through the lens of a Time Warrior’s goggles.

It can regenerate into an infinite amount of bottles.

There is likely blood in Gatorade.

An common impostor known as “Liar’s Gatorade”

Where?

Gatorade is available wherever bottled beverages are sold, in the cellar next to the preserves, naturally within blackberries that grow next to volcanoes, and in the locker rooms of the world’s top professional sports teams.

The grass will grow thorn-less when fertilized with Gatorade.

When?

I’ve already discussed everything I know about when the juice was thought to have been discovered so I’d like to instead cover when you should consume it.

Individual dosage used to be determined by the town quenchsmith, but the government’s standardizing of human wetness rendered their services obsolete. Technology has entered the fray as a reliable tool to decide when is best to throw back a tablespoon or two. My favourite device is the qThirst Tongue Band that sends real time data to your smart phone or tablet to give you an accurate picture of how arid your mouth and inner linings are.

Why?

From sauces to sparrows, and nuts to nuns, most things in life can be explained using Darwin’s Theory of Evolution. Its core tenet is that when something gets boring it will change into something better. The big problem is that the process takes time. Scientists estimate that the flora and fauna of ancient Africa decided water was boring 4 million years ago thanks to fossils that show clear poo faces from creatures who had but one option when it came to liquids. They were too dumb to suck trees but too smart to drink piss.

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Things To Remember

Remembrance Day is the most literal holiday around next to Poland’s Throw Bread Day. It’s a bit misleading though because it wants us to remember only one thing, that being the big wars that were responsible for more skeletons than that first month after cavemen learned how to make swords.

After remembering how lucky I am to be living in a place with very little mud, I wanted to take this year’s Remembrance Day a step further by coming up with a hearty list things I’d like to accomplish before Remembrance Day 2018 arrives. By then my list will hopefully be littered with red check marks and fun little notes that say stuff like, “Great job on this one, dude.” Its successful completion should lessen the odds of me getting distracted again during the Remembrance Day parade, where I’m prone to wild fantasies about becoming a rogue-ish bagpiper who uses his instrument not only for dirges but as a bellows, a decent fake spider, and some sort of HD satellite.

I need to save money this year and to curb my addiction to “retail therapy” I finally want to sneak some fountain water out of the mall. I’ll then have the final ingredient in “mall tea” which is made by steeping soft pretzel in boiling fountain water. The scent will trick my brain into believing I’m in the mall, satiating my hunger for shopping when really I’m at home choking down the tea.

I’d like to get connect with my dad on an emotional level so I’ll finally have that talk with him to find out if my face and body is exactly the form he fantasized about when he found out his wife was pregnant with me.

I want to remember to try to meet my idols so hopefully I can track down one of those wonderful Stranger Things kids and talk them out of getting a tattoo that commemorates their time on Stranger Things.

Having fun is important so I gotta get around to pranking a friend by giving them a nickname, getting it to stick, then buying myself a vanity licence plate with that nickname stamped on.  On the surface it will seem like I’m being a jerk  but really I just want to give my friends something to talk about for once other than who got Chopped last night.

If I’m going to help out my friends I’d like to achieve balance by nailing my enemies. I’m definitely going to sew a pouch into every shirt I own to remind myself to fulfil last year’s mission of taking an extra square of toilet paper from every public washroom I visit to use as Christmas wrapping paper for the presents of my foes.

I need to take some time out for creative projects. It’ll take a lot of work but I’d like to find a fascinating story of true crime to make a podcast out of. When the first, critically acclaimed season is complete, I’ll meticulously take out snippets of my own voice and use them as samples on my new record–a lighthearted hip hop album about how to have fun living in Canada in your 30s.

Finally, I want to get into investing. My plan is to gather enough common beans that they are no longer common because I own most of them. Then I will sell them back to big beaners for a big payday, or retain them and be a Bean Lord for a bit.

How To Lucid Dream

Dreams are little movies your brain makes while you’re asleep–they’re always rated R, they always star you, and their budgets are always at least $200,000,000 so you don’t even have to worry about that.

Scientists say we dream because we all love movies, while philosophers believe that there is a screenplay in all of us just waiting to get out to the silver screen. The ones who are able to get them onto the page and into the hands of Hollywood’s power players achieve a level of enlightenment akin to that of the farmer realizing his own dung is the ideal fertilizer for figs.

Dreams remind us we’re alive when we’re pretending to be dead.

A small portion of the population, and every single eel, is able to control their dreams in an act known as “lucid dreaming”. It’s really useful if you don’t like being alive and are frustrated you can’t fly or roll around in fields of butter.

The bad news is that humans can’t breathe underwater, but the good news is that lucid dreaming can be learned. Here are some tips I copied off the hand of some guy I saw sleeping on the subway who would periodically wake to check his notes, only to go back to sleep. I knew it was working because he kept licking his lips.

Preparation:

The day you decide to begin your training, chew gum with your eyes. You’ll need to wear shades all day so that people don’t think you’re blinking Morse code at them. I once got hit on by a dude who thought I was blinking him a secret recipe for Fruit Roll-Ups that didn’t even require a food dehydrator.

By doing this your eyes will be so mad at you at the end of the day that they will close and refuse to let you see anything. Since blindness is required for a good night’s sleep, it works out quite well.

Before you even begin to think about meltin’ into your mattress, tape a sign on the ceiling above your bed that reads, “Get back in there!”

Here’s the most important part: Before bed, take a rat and dangle it over the toilet. Concentrate and remember the rat’s reaction–hold onto the feeling you have while watching it squirm. Keep the rat in a cage next to your bed. If you suddenly wake up during a lucid dream and can’t tell if you’re still dreaming or not, try to use your dream powers to explode the rat or to turn it into a stack of pancakes, whatever you want. If it doesn’t work then chances are you’re back to real life. But just to be sure, take the rat out and dangle it over the toilet and if the feelings match those from earlier, you’re awake.

Execution:

Follow your preparation routine for at least a week until you dream consistently, or until you’ve got so good at eye chewing that your eyes can blow bubbles that form gum sunglasses. Keep a journal of your dreams and have a professional illustrate them–give the collection a zippy title and distribute via mail order or zine fair.

The first thing you’ll want to do when you finally realize you have control of your dream is summon a doctor to give you a new nose and stuff like that. But don’t even bother because it’s easier to turn yourself into a doctor and then do it yourself. Besides, you have learning to do.

Conjure up a school and enrol yourself in Advanced Lucid Dreaming. Don’t take short cuts. You’ll need to attend your school for a total of 24 semesters where you’ll learn everything you need to know to be a reliable lucid dreamer. You can have some fun though. Give your school any name you want. Mine is called “St. Poison’s School for the Fuckers”. You don’t even have to sit at a desk or anything, go ahead and made a throne or a couch, I don’t care.

The most important thing to remember while you toil away at school is that if you find yourself being taught be a real teacher from your past, immediately kill that teacher. This is your way of telling your brain to unlearn everything and start learning to take control of dreams.

Cool Down:

It’s very easy to get addicted to lucid dreaming. During your waking hours you’ll have to remind yourself that real life ain’t that bad, otherwise you’ll spend your day trying to snooze. It’s not that difficult. Have sex with something once a day and go the buffet whenever possible.

If you’ve already read this post and have successfully become a lucid dreamer then maybe you’re dreaming right now. And maybe you’re me, sitting at a desk and typing at a keyboard while straining the brain for tips on how to lucid dream knowing full well that the information is dangerous if it were to fall into the wrong hands….

 

Movie Review — Thor: Ragnarok

From the pages of Marvel’s comics comes another movie with the beautiful and funny Thor. This time it’s a family affair featuring Thor’s dad, brother, and brand new sister who none of us even knew before this movie came out.

The word around the taverns is that this Thor movie is the funniest one, and that’s true. Every character in this movie is a goofball at heart and they are all so witty that Ryan Stiles himself would be jealous.

It’s all your favourite comic book things come to life on the silver screen including aliens, monsters, spaceships, guns, swords, knives, tight clothes and mind boggling special effects that must’ve been made by a lot of computers.

This movie was made with as many computers as there were punches in the movie that were made to look real by using computers. No one got hurt though in real life or in the movie. Hulk punched Thor from a thousand feet in the air and all Thor did was fall asleep so what can kill Thor? You’d have to explode him from the inside but I don’t know I watched cartoons I didn’t read comics. If this movie taught me anything about fighting it’s that you should do one of those sideways barrel rolls after you get punched and it makes the punch look bad but you can get up right after.

I wore a coat and a sweater to the movie and I wasn’t even that hot even though I left my coat on the whole time because I didn’t want to sit on it. The 3D glasses hurt the bridge of my nose but you could chalk that up to me being as clear eyed as Thor, meaning my face isn’t accustomed to things resting on it. This morning there was a bit of redness where the glasses sat, which is kind of a problem because I’ve been having skin problems already. I’ve been red lately and despite moisturizing I’m still fairly flaky. I’m confident this will pass but after living blemish free for a good long time, I’m concerned that maybe my hormones or something have changed and I’m entering a new age like when Thor gets a haircut in the movie.  I ate a medium popcorn bought in-house and brought my own PC Blue Menu sparkling water that I threw out (but didn’t recycle, so sorry) after the show.

Almost every character spoke English but not everyone was from North America. In fact, there were only a couple that I could count, which made it feel like I was watching the World Cup of soccer where we’re the minorities for once. There was a tiny bit of eating in the movie but no major meals. They used the Led Zeppelin song twice probably because it was so expensive to buy. Everyone knew their lines perfectly as far as I could tell.

I give this movie 1 Taika out of 3 Waititis and recommend it to anyone who wants to learn how to be a comedian but doesn’t want to do any of the work.

What Are Adults Up To?

It’s Sunday morning, post-marmalade, and I’m scanning the “blues papers” for some positive news on my fellow adults–what do I find? Story after story about mad men, wiggly women, and grimy grands (mas, pas, moffs). I cannot relate. The company I keep have clean noses and even cleaner gun pits, most of which contain so few guns that they prefer to call them “basements” instead.

So where can I find positive news on my fellow adults who are responsible for making everything on this Earth including decisions, babies, and small batch gin–excluding finger paintings, macaroni necklaces, and some of my cheaper clothes? Oh I don’t know, how about a source called “reality” where things happen in real time in stunning 4K resolution VR.

Even though  I got better things to do (like taking advantage of the ‘Yo-Yo Loophole’ wherein one painstakingly removes the premium string from pro-yo’s to be re-purposed as high performance shoelaces, which if you run the numbers is advantageous to the budget conscious) I feel it prudent to share some adult observations from my time among the fertiles within  common “hives” right here in my town. An English prof who is watching me type this at the library just gave that sentence a “G”. And why don’t I mind? That brings me to my first point:

They’re Rediscovering The Good Parts Of School

Being done school forever is one of the greatest pleasures an adult can experience–greater than grilling stone fruit for the first time. But it’t not like we’re spending our lunch breaks up the tallest tree in the schoolyard, muttering “Enjoying the bullshit?” to the children playing below. Total myth.

There are still things about school that some adults miss and it doesn’t even have anything to do with being chosen to take the metre stick home for the weekend to measure whatever you want in your room.

Remember trading lunch because your mom didn’t understand you? I observed a Bay Street big wig swap his quinoa salad for a ham and cheese sandwich and a night with the other man’s wife, an afternoon with his son, and two Christmases with his lovely aunt.

Recess rules, eh? While canvassing local tech companies to sponsor me in my quest to become Canada’s fastest double-clicker, I noticed many instituting two fifteen minute breaks a day preceded by an optional dip into a bowl of cigarettes and the dispersing of fanny packs filled with wild game jerkys.

Nudity Rates Are Not Rising With Inflation

Shockingly, adult nudity rates have stayed steady at 3% since the UN began collecting data during the “Summer of Mud” in 1984. Continued innovation in pajama technology has stunted growth in naked sleeping, while fashion magazines remain steadfast in promoting the prudish act of wearing clothes. I’m all for nudity but it’s not like I’m helping the cause. Over the summer I was dared to wear only a scarf to the pool and was ready to go in the change room until a guy in trunks called me “Frosty”, while a young lifeguard tossed me a roll of masking tape with no further instructions.

They Want Money

I was planning on complaining about how hard it is to find the right pair of jeans but it made my lawyers nervous. Besides, everyone is sick of the argument because jeans have been the official pants of first and second world humans since Levi Strauss took the durable cotton he would wrap stillborn calves in and turned them into a gag wedding gift for his brother.

After a harrowing afternoon of attempting to trade my novelty “Captain Asshole” dog tags for a a case of jars I realized that everything adults do is in the pursuit of money instead of food and shelter. This is pretty weird if you consider we all evolved from monkeys, or in the case of Australians, coyotes–real deal creatures that wouldn’t know a coin from a scorpion. You ever wonder why you never see radish gardens by the side of the road anymore? You ever picked up on the fact that trees are no longer called “root roofs”? Well, I do.


Thought Exercise

We believe that every posting should spur meaningful debate to inspire critical thinking. Educators: use the following as a starting point to start your own conversations. 

“Children are the future”?

Fine, take it. As an adult, I don’t even care. The present and the past are way better anyway.

The past has already happened; if the past totally rules then we can look upon it fondly while sharing buns by the fire. If the past was bad it doesn’t matter because it’s in the past so no harm done. The present so useful because you can do whatever you want within it, the “whatever” being extremely powerful because it’s also the future until you’ve done it but also the past because once you do it (whatever you want) it becomes history and history is past. Pretty cool.

Exercises

a) If you were to mutate time, how would you do it?
b) Should criminals be banished to future or past?
c) What does time taste like?

 

Hahaha New Poster

When I see a computer I never see a computer I see a horse. They’re very similar. Horses run fast or slow, computers run fast or slow. Some horses are expensive, some computers are expensive. My computer is an old horse who is most comfortable sleeping upright in the barn. If you bother her her hard drive will neigh.  Every now and then, when the dew softens the summer clay, I take her for a trot among the trees and we dance, together, with the wind. Here is a new trot:

Scums Of The Earth by Explorer Paul

Hi, I’m Explorer Paul. I travel the world looking for copper and autographed 8x10s. This is another one of my famous adventures.

There I was, waist deep and sinking fast in the fluorescent sands of the Pepper Desert.

My companion was Dr. Marilyn, whom I had become acquainted with a mere 12 hours beforehand. I would love to describe the details of our meeting but I only have 15 minutes left in this Internet cafe before the proprietor realizes there isn’t a grenade in his toilet, and the finer points aren’t significant to this story unless you consider a crow circus significant.

I will type as fast as I can to get to the point, unless I think of something else that’s interesting such as the ringleader of the crow circus who was not the feather master he appeared to be but rather a slave driver who controlled the birds by waving his gravy-dipped hands through the air to entice them like the conductor of a metropolitan orchestra where the musicians are birds, and rather than play instruments the sound is produced by the conductor pulling wires attached to the birds’ most sensitive areas to induce squawks that when played in succession produce a haunting melody that combines the natural and unnatural into a cyclone of otherworldly emotion.

I’m sorry. When I get a thought in my head I have to get it out or else I’ll forget a piece of Quentin Tarantino trivia which my psychic told me I’ll need one day. I must now skip the part about myself and the doctor buying ourselves valuable time by eating a snake like Lady and the Tramp ate spaghetti.

Anyway, we were stuck in the sand and she told me that she’s the only person ever who researched and categorized “The Scums of the Earth”, a grouping of Earthen flora that is shitty and stinky. Because she was about to be swallowed into sand she wanted me to know everything about her research in the event I survived to tell the tale. I asked if it was written down somewhere because I have a bad memory and she said that she burned all her journals when she was trying to impress a famous ball player by lighting a cigar with it.

Blah blah blah she died and I got out because I’m not a wiggler and eventually I was rescued by a wandering rookie solider who was engaged in a hazing ritual wherein he was not to return to the barracks until he had a sunburn so bad that he smelled like a really good chicken joint.

I would feel bad not fulfilling her second final request, that being the sharing of her findings to the world.  Her FINAL request was that her body be stuffed and displayed in the window of her the first restaurant she tried fries in, which I cannot fulfil because the same army unit whom my saviour belonged to has already claimed her corpse as their mascot. Here are the scant details I remember from that dreadful (yet informative) afternoon. RIP Dr. Marilyn.

There are three kinds of scum (she wanted to divide the categories further but her patron cut off funding because she refused to marry his nephew, known locally as “The Zit Tzar”):

Safe Scum

These scums are the most common, found in every bucket, hole, and seam indoors and out.

Identifiers: Not very wet, very similar to scuz but way heavier, a bit milky when blended.

Smell: Neutral to VERY piney.

Nutritional Value: You can eat these scums but their nutrition is equal to that of a swatch of cotton.

Notes:

  • Since they are abundant they should be utilized in any way possible. Dr. Marilyn suggests all nations forfeit their arms and fight future wars with safe scum being the only legal weaponry.
  • I can’t remember this exact part but she said something about wrapping safe scum around a cucumber to make a brine-less pickle.

Scenic Scum

These scums are visible from outer space, thus the Earth’s topography is essentially scum. Dr. Marilyn pleaded with World Space Foundation to allow her passage into the stars to perform spectral analysis but her proposal was deemed “fucked”.

Identifiers: Will form pus when melted, dark, serrated leaves form in some varieties.

Smell: Like someone rubbed rotten soap in a piece of day old pepperoni.

Nutritional Value: Contains high amounts of Vitamin 2 BUT it is near impossible for humans to fully digest it. Consumption will cause barfing, which is a classification of scum that Dr. Marilyn was excited to study, playfully dubbing it “scum!” before she could think of anything better.

Notes:

  • Research would indicate this scum to be a distant cousin to slime.
  • This scum may hold secrets to our universe including the answer to the question, “Why don’t humans lay eggs?”
  • When injected into the eye of a laboratory rat, it went blind but gained the ability to fashion small shelters out of a common bell pepper.

Scary Scum

Dr. Marilyn was very hesitant to share her findings on Scary Scum and it’s easy to understand why. When she was experimenting with it–eating it, licking it, sucking it, rubbing it–she went into a coma. While we were stuck she emailed me a pic of her journal right before she went down:

Identifiers: Found in dark and shaded areas, especially those formerly occupied by “dingbats” (I did not understand whether she was referring to a species of winged rodent or a type of person who’s kinda dumb). These scums are crispy and can manufacture their own crud as a form of reproduction.

Smell: These scums tend to absorb the sniffer’s own natural scent and then project a variant of that stink with added rot. Incredible.

Nutritional Value: Though not tested, Dr. Marilyn surmised that Scary Scum could make an effective additive to smoke machines.

Notes:

*This is the part where she died so I didn’t get any extra notes but I can say that the stuff that came out of her nose after she croaked might very well have been this shit*

That’s it for me! I’m headed to the Cone Islands tonight to investigate an unknown band that apparently rocks! Will report back! Thank you Glenn for allowing me to publish this work on his website. And eat scum NYTimes.com, turns out we didn’t need you.

The Definitive Star Wars Audience Participation Script

The popularity of Star Wars is due to many things, most notably its soundtrack, which when played backwards describes the exact location of George Lucas’ high school locker.

But over the years, and several fan pilgrimages to Robin Hood High in Modesto, CA, the movie has taken on a life of its own and continues to be screened on big ones across the world. Fans have even taken it upon themselves to immerse themselves into the action by reacting in unison at certain points of the film, thereby becoming part of it.

Next time you find yourself on shore leave with nothing but a pocket full of ground beef and a few hours to spare, head out to a Star Wars screening and follow along with the diehards using this complete guide:


The show begins with the designated SM (Star Master) warning any first-timers that “their balls are about to be blown off”. The audience responds, “HOW ARE THEY GOING TO GET BLOWN OFF?” to which the SM replies, “WITH LASERS, SPACESHIPS, ALIENS, AND FIGHTS”.

The SM retreats to the back row where a bushel of peaches awaits.  He or she will then ROLL A PEACH down the aisle whenever a PLANET or ASTEROID appears onscreen (if peaches aren’t in season, use onions).


As the famous opening crawl begins with “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…”, each audience member holds up a COMPASS, says in unison “WON’T  BE NEEDING THIS” then throws them behind them toward the SM. The SM collects each compass for later.


Then you are to READ THE CRAWL in unison, verbatim, in the VOICE OF YOUR FATHER.

VERBALIZE every piece of punctuation using their special Star Wars code names:

Comma = Low Helmet
Period = Little Planet
Apostrophe = High Helmet
Ellipses = Laser Holes

Example: Pursued by the Empire HIGH HELMETs sinister agents LOW HELMET Princess Leia races home aboard her starship LOW HELMET custodian of the stolen plans that can save her people and restore freedom to the galaxy LASER HOLES


Right after C-3P0 and R2-D2 cross the hallway, just before Vader arrives, shout out, “BIG MAMA’S COMING!”


When Luke sees Leia’s message for the first time, she says “Help me Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope” a bunch of times.

After the SECOND time the she says it say “AGAIN, PLEASE”, then after the third time “OKAY WE GET IT, SHUT UP”


Right when R5-D4’s motivator blows, everyone gets out their phones and DELETES THEIR MOST RECENT EMAIL.


When Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru are discussing Luke’s future:

Beru: Luke’s not a farmer Owen he has too much of his father in him
Owen: That’s what I’m afraid of…

The audience responds, “I’M AFRAID OF _____” filling in the blank with your greatest fear. The Star Master chooses the dumbest fear of the crowd and forces that person to sit backwards the rest of the screening.


In the iconic scene where Luke leaves his house and looks to the Tatooine night sky with its two suns, scream, “GIMME DOUBLE PEACHES, STAR MASTER”


When Obi-Wan removes his hood to reveal himself for the first time and says “Hello There”, everyone TAKES OFF THEIR SHIRTS, stows them under their seats, and responds with “HI, MAN”.


At the first appearance of Chewbacca at the Mos Eisley Cantina, take the GROUND BEEF out of your pocket and THROW IT AT THE SCREEN.


When Ponda Baba’s arm is cut off by Obi-Wan Kenobi, everyone HOLDS UP THE ARM they wouldn’t mind losing, wiggles it around, and says “HERE, HAVE MINE”.

The SM counts the number of rights and lefts held up and will report the data to the local census board as a sign of goodwill. When delivered, the SM will tell the associate he or she deals with, “From Luke and his farm, I give you these arms”.


At the first sight of the Death Star, after Obi-Wan says, “That’s no moon”, the audience responds,  “NOPE! IT’S ANOTHER PEACH, BABY”.


While in the detention area, a frantic Han says, “Uh, we had a slight weapons malfunction, but uh… everything’s perfectly all right now. We’re fine. We’re all fine here now, thank you. How are you?”

The audience responds, “WE’RE OKAY BUT WE COULD USE A SHIRT”.


When our heroes land in the garbage chute on the Death Star, take any garbage accumulated during the screening and THROW IT BACKWARD toward the SM, while making LASER NOISES.


When Obi-Wan is struck down by Darth Vader his clothes fall to the floor. The audience RETRIEVES the shirts they removed earlier and THROWS THEM AT THE SCREEN.


When Luke says, “I used to bullseye womp rats in my T-16 back home. They’re not much bigger than two meters”, respond with “TWO METERS? THAT’S AT LEAST FIFTY PEACHES”. Then everyone turns around to face the SM who responds, “I AM YOUR MASTER AND I ROLL WHEN I SAY I ROLL”.


When the pilots take the their ships for the attack, the shirtless crowd leaves the theatre and must go out to the street to TELL 10 STRANGERS ABOUT STAR WARS.

Once you successfully fill your quota, jog back to the theatre and take your seat. If you’re able to get back in time for when Luke deals the fatal blow to the Death Star, POP a ZIT (if you have one) and SHOUT out “I MADE IT”.


As Luke, Han, and Chewbacca walk down the aisle to receive their awards, the LEFT SIDE of the audience chants “LET’S GO LUKE, LET’S GO LUKE, HAN AND CHEWY MAKE ME PUKE”. The RIGHT SIDE responds with “HAN AND HIS PET, HAN AND HIS PET, LUKE WEARS A DIAPER AND IT’S ALL WET”


As the end credits begin to roll the SM will reward the peaches to the first person who returned to his or her seat after canvassing the neighbourhood. That lucky patron then leads a parade outside the theatre where everyone who DIDN’T get back in time is waiting.

The SM then BURNS the pile of compasses along with the garbage and discarded shirts. The SM will also form patties out of the ground beef and grill them over the burning pile. The person who got the peaches must stomp them into a jam to be spread onto each patty, then distribute the peach burgers to the fans. Once the food is consumed the screening has concluded.


Everyone has a SAFE RIDE HOME.

How Eggs Are Cooked Around The World

I wouldn’t trust a lizard even if it handed me a background check notorized by António Guterres himself, but despite our different bloods and tongues I’d still accept an invitation to dine. That’s because mammals and lizards agree on two things and two things only: things were better back in the old days, and eating unborn birds is tasty.

Yes, the  vertebrates of our planet love eating eggs due to a biological urge to destroy all offspring that isn’t ours. Over centuries this urge has gone from sending trained wolves to wreak havoc on neighbouring mangers, to a worldwide food phenomenon with ties to all three major meals.

What’s fascinating is that your method of “gettin’ ’em hard” is, to you, as normal as arm holes on a jacket, when to the rest of the globe your practices would appear odd and perhaps even offensive. We went to the library for nine hours and found out how people around the world cook their eggs and the results may shock you:

Italy

Velocità uova (‘Speed Eggs’)

1. Insert raw bird egg into the tailpipe of a Vespa.

2. Drive toward the coast. Every time your bike stalls because of the egg, stop, pick an olive and put it in your boot.

3. When you reach the coast, remove the egg and wash it in Mediterranean sea water. If the egg attracts any sardines, toss your boot olives as far into the sea as possible to lure them away.

4. Utter a prayer of your choosing.

5. Find the nearest lemon tree and peel the egg against the coarse bark. Place pieces of shell into your shell pouch.

6. Leave the peeled egg in the Mediterranean sun until shrivelled to the size of an uvetta (raisin).

7. Serve with olive oil and fresh herbs.


S
pain

Huevos del sol (‘Eggs of the Sun’)

1. Juggle six fresh eggs for 60 revolutions in the nearest square to a crowd of at least five.

2. Wrap in a traditional yarn sling, bash against the cobblestones, and throw onto a terracotta roof

3. Allow to ferment while enjoying a coffee and the sounds and sights of the square.

4. Climb onto the roof and empty contents of the sling onto the tiles.

5. Scrape egg onto a ceremonial sabre called an Espada de yugo.

6. Bring the sword down the the square and serve scraped onto a loaf of freshly fried onions flavoured with saffron.

7. Serve to anyone willing to exchange a story of old.


Iceland

Fjölskyldaegg (‘Family Eggs’)

1. Catch a female freshwater trout. Remove roe and suck on until flavour is extracted — spit back into the river.

2. Find a bird egg, force down the throat of the trout and then add a generous swig of Brennivín.

3. Hang high atop a smouldering pile of juniper.

4. Once all the liquor has evaporated, continue to hang until trout is completely dried.

5. Remove the egg. Feed the dried trout to the village hound.

6. Lay out the egg on an oaken slab and pass down to the eldest son.


J
apan

アーティストの好きな卵 (‘The Arist’s Favourite Eggs’)

1. Choose an egg that matches your energy.

2. Spend six months with the egg.

3. At midnight on the eve of the sixth month, paint the shell in a matter that visually depicts your relationship with the egg.

4. Write a fable of the egg in three volumes.

5. Attempt to sell the fable for film adaptation.

6. If the egg’s fable is not sold, award the egg to a pre-pubescent on their 10th birthday.

7. Accompany the egg’s recipient to the griddle of a master sizzler.

8. Have the recipient select yolk or white. Take what remains for yourself.

9. Consume in quiet reflection.


Netherlands

Eieren uit de aarde (‘Eggs from the Earth’)

1. Roll egg into a mossy grove in a deep valley. Mark location on a map.

2. Select an egg keeper and provide the keeper with the map.

3. Pay the egg keeper three knives per moon to keep watch over the egg.

4. Forget about the egg, for the egg belongs now to its keeper.


R
ussia

Потрясающее яйцо (‘The Stunning Egg’)

1. Crack fresh chicken eggs on top of a hot, energy inefficient stereo playing any Stones record from the 80s.

2. Have every member of the household give it a lick.

3. Serve atop a bed of caraway seeds.


Scotland

White Chips

1. Place eggs under the hind quarters of a family member weighing at least 18 stone.

2. You’ll know the egg is done when the individual has read The Herald in its entirety.

3. Paint with Scotch Whiskey using a horsehair brush then insert one egg into each cheek.

4. DO NOT CHEW.

5. Allow eggs to slowly dissolve.

 

A Writer Attempts To Craft A Humourous Piece On Metric Conversions

Being an accomplished writer seems easy on paper–the same paper we stain with strokes of ink that is weaved into magic and truth–but in reality it’s as difficult as performing dolphin surgery on the deck of rowboat during a winter’s gale. That last sentence took as much out of me as a marathon runner with skunks taped to her legs, just to let you know. While it would be a worthwhile exercise to allow you to observe me, live, during “surgery”, as a writer I’d rather tell–and more importantly show– you how difficult it is. Here’s a rare peek beneath the black satin curtain, shimmering like an anaconda at dusk in the dark blue mud of the Amazon.

BACKGROUND

I wanted to craft a humour piece suited for Big Apple quarterlies where I list metric conversions, only silly. Like Samuel de Champlain, I was having trouble deciding where to go next. My first instinct was to frame these conversions as under-appreciated, oft-ignored tenets of the metric system. By going that route my intro would read something like this:

OPTION 1

Mitres and litres, the two-headed beast of the metric system, have been well-compensated for their dominance in the worldwide height and volume game. Their various offspring as well as their capable pal, the gram, are certainly less heralded but are still in heavy rotation on the lips and forms of our top scientists and estimators. Go even further outside of the mainstream and you’ll find a legion of virtually unknown units that have real world uses. In order to help you understand them, here they are put into context via Imperial conversion:

0 imperial fucks given = 3.2 metric guffs

1 36DD imperial bra = .3 metric grocery bags


My other option was to differentiate these made up units from their internationally recognized counterparts by giving them a sort of streetwise persona. In the following intro I create a first-person narrator accustomed to strange metric conversions in a fictional urban centre.

OPTION 2

You sit there in your suburban fuckin’ four-walled, one roof homes, worryin’ about titty flicks on Billy’s Netflix list and  whether doggy has a fresh patch of grass to shit on. You’re ignorant to what’s really goin’ on out there on the streets where life is a chess match between two bags of humidity being watched over by a moth-eaten raccoon wearing armour made of crud. Your metric conversions are written in Billy’s textbook or scrawled in your butler’s notepad, where the worst thing a mis-conversion leads to is dry ass banana bread. Out here we converting shit you never even imagined, and if we don’t get the numbers right? People end up dead. Know these next time you step into my world:

Imperial size large jean jacket = Size Maybe Metric jean jacket with an extra metric half sleeve

An imperial pinch of cinnamon = .04 metric fists of cinnamon


And finally, I could use the “news bureau” motif that I commonly turn to where I reach out to “staff members” (well-crafted characters of various aptitudes) to aid in the creation of content.

OPTION 3

We reached out to our team of foreign correspondents and network of nosy paperboys to find out how the metric system is used in the real world and not in the stuffy laboratories of the elite. Feter Poncle of our Belgian Bureau starts things off with interesting conversions he found useful when researching a story on the enigmatic trollers of the Dover Strait:

An imperial double click = a metric triple click with a half scroll

1 film rated imperial ages 18 and up = 2 films rated metric 20 and a bit

1 all you can eat imperial buffet = 3 metric ham slams


The lesson here is that being writer is often like being a locksmith. You can have a sack full of keys, but which doors do they open? It’s also like being a being a blacksmith because computers that you type on get pretty hot.

Check back next week when I show you how to write beautiful poetry using nothing more than the subject line of your last spam email.