THIS IS MY COMEDIC WEBPAGE
Here is my mountain climbing website: USA Highpoints
Here is a Hangman game I created: Hangman
Here is a mad lib I created using the magic of computer science: Mad Lib
PROCRASTINATION
Fall Semester 2000: Well, I have come to the end of a very
work-intensive week. Four papers had to be worked on, and I spent all
week in front of a computer screen, busting out page after page. I don't
like to procrastinate, for one simple reason...I am very bad at doing work in
the last minute. Now people are talented in a vast array of different
fields and activities, but we must take some time to commend those masters of
the last minute paper! Those people who start the paper at 2am the night
before it is due, and still manage to get a B or higher! Are they
brilliant, misunderstood geniuses? No, they are just lazy people who
cannot get motivated to do anything unless it HAS to be done. Don't ask
them what they wrote about because they don't know. They were goofed up
on coca-cola, surge, mountain dew, coffee, caffeine pills, vivarin, or whatever
they could take to speed up their senses. The night of a procrastinator
involves lots of distractions, putting off the inevitable. They tell all
their friends they are busy that night, but still do not start the stupid
paper. They go outside and smoke...(procrastinators usually smoke
cigarettes) They e-mail, chat on AOL, watch TV, look at the ceiling.
THE MOMENT: Yes it is time to start the paper, first we go outside
for a cigarette...then we begin. We search the room for the class notes
and the paper assignment. We glare over the notes and get the gist of the
idea. Speed read through the books and get a few quotes to use.
Preparing for our professionally brilliant b.s.ing ability. Get on the
computer and write, take a sip of coffee, and keep writing. Spell checker
is our best friend.
At 6 o'clock in the morning we are finally finished. Quick bibliography,
a celebratory cigarette, an hour of sleep, and then off to get coffee.
Right before the class, we rush to any computer to print the sucker, and
nervously twitch waiting for our fine piece of B.S.ed art to print on to the 4
or 5 sheets of white paper our skill with changing margins and font size has
given us. We come to class a minute early...aren't we punctual. Our work
is complete. Lets go have a smoke!
The TV
versus the COMPUTER
So, the relationship I have with my TV is kind of like the relationship
people have with their wife after many years, and the relationship with my
computer is like that mistress with whom you're cheating on your wife.
The relationship with my TV just started breaking down. I just didn't
have the time for her anymore. Sometimes, the TV would say mean things
like, "you don't even turn me on anymore."
Sure we'd have quickies, a little show here and there, but no special
evenings alone together. The shameful thing for my TV was that sometimes
I'd bring some friends over and we would all "watch her together."
Then it happened. A few years ago I met another, a mistress. She
being my computer. Younger, sleeker, and glossier, she was
irresistible. Compared to her, my TV looked like a big old rusty
box. My computer could do so much more than my TV. She represented real
novelty.
My TV used to enjoy our time together, even when(shamefully) I brought my
friends to watch with me.
Now my friends came over, not to watch my TV, but to see that computer.
I kept my computer in another room, so my TV didn't know what was going
on........or so I thought.
The confrontation came a few days ago. It was an ugly scene. I
was watching my TV, and she said to me:
TV: So you're not going UPSTAIRS tonight, huh?
ME: No, I am staying here with you, why?
TV: You will go upstairs, won't you. You say you go up there
just to go to the bathroom!?
ME: I do go to the bathroom, I swear.
TV: For two hours?!
ME: well........
TV: You think I don't know.....you're seeing that slut computer aren't
you?
ME: What's a computer?
TV: Don't play dumb with me, I know what you are doing.
ME: Hey, give me some credit.
TV: Does she provide you with hours of primetime entertainment, and
all those channels
ME: No, she doesn't, but.........
TV: You haven't been watching other TV's have you? Have you?
ME: uh
TV: You've been all over the place, other TV's, other computers!
You've been with those sluts in the library, in the
Microroom, haven't you!
ME: I just work with them.
TV: Yeah right. You know they are whores.......they get around,
if you know what I mean.
You think you're the only who uses them?
ME: Well...
TV: You don't even know where they have been, I heard some of them are
Mac's, the cheapest whores you can get!
They probably have all sorts of viruses!
ME: Well, sometimes I don't know about you.
TV: What in the hell do you mean!?
ME: Well, sometimes baby, you have bad reception, if you know what I
mean.
TV: YOU JERK! I would throw something at you, but I don't have
any arms.
ME: That's it, this conversation is finished, I am turning you off!
Remote control: 'click'
So, I told my TV that I was messing around with
computers, and she was upset, but every now and then, I still pull up a seat
and turn her on for old times sake. Hey, a computer can do a lot, but
even a computer can't provide me with the TV channels that got me hooked in the
first place.
ONE
BAD NIGHT OF DRINKING
I broke my sobriety yesterday, yes I
jumped off the wagon, and just got
annihilated,
blitzed,
clueless,
destroyed,
erroneously sober,
fowled up,
googleeplexed,
hammered,
intoxicated,
jubilatedly jinxed,
krocked,
leaking my liver,
messed up,
na na na na- na na na na- hey hey hey- I'm drunk,
obliterated,
plastered,
quite out of my head,
ripped,
sloshed,
toppled,
utterly lacking after all the liquor I've been whacking,
vividly volkswagoned,
wasted,
xed from friends-family-and the local bar,
yahood seriously,
and zipped zapped zooped.
Yes I was piledriven and totally skunked.......it was not
a pretty sight. So I struggled home, not knowing how I got there, and all
I remember is the pink elephant who served me at the bar was saying,
"you better slow down mister, oh by the way,
have you tried the peanuts? They are fantastic!"
I woke up feeling like I just got out of a train wreck. Man, what the
heck did I do last night. Well, lets see, first I went to the bar
with Mary, and we had a pitcher, so I was talking and I must have said
something, because she just got up and walked out. Now I must have had a
lot to drink
by then because when I tried to get up after her, I felt like I was walking on
a big,
soft mattress, or some kind of softness in the floor, where each step pushed
and shifted the ground,
and my foot left a huge imprint. Then, I felt like my feet were sticking
in the ground and I couldn’t lift them up.
I remember getting on my knees, crawling on the
floor searching for something. I think I was looking for my cat, which is
strange for two reasons.
ONE: I don't own a cat, and
TWO: if I did own a cat, why would I find him on the floor of the bar.
Just while I was crawling, I ran into a giant
banana. This wasn't any ordinary giant banana, but one wearing a suit and
tie. He told me to hide him because he was being chased by monkeys!
I leapt out of the bar and I ended up in a taxi. The driver threw me
out of the cab, and I landed on the sidewalk, right next to a bum with two
teeth. He kept asking me if I wanted some of his liquor, but I said,
"no buddy, I think I've had enough."
So, I woke up in my bed somehow, and I am just glad I am
here. However, this really doesn't look like my apartment, and I am sure
I don't own a fish tank. Uh Oh.
....................................................................................................................................
So I made bail, that was good. I still don't know what happened that
night,
but I haven't been able to reach Mary. Of course I don't even have
Mary's phone number, and come to think of it, I don't know anyone named Mary.
So who bailed me out you ask, well it was the monkeys,
they want to recruit my help to find the banana man.
I think I am going to skip town and never,
ever, ever, ever drink again.
