Author Archives: Kurt Luchs

The New 9-1-1

By: Frank Ferri

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Thank you for calling 1-866-742-8794 extension 895 — the new 9-1-1™! Make sure your children commit it to memory — it’s an important one!

1-866-742-8794 extension 895 — the new 9-1-™ is made possible by the Altria Group (formerly Philip Morris Companies Inc.) and other corporate sponsors dedicated to keeping this emergency service free.

Please listen to the following menu in its entirety as it changes hourly.

For fire-related issues and emergencies, press 1.

For situations requiring police assistance, press 2.

For situations involving the ingestion of a potentially dangerous substance, press 3.

For all other questions, comments and concerns, press 4 for our automated additional help menu, featuring a voice-guided tour to help you maximize your 1-866-742-8794 extension 895 — the new 9-1-1™ experience.

To hear this menu again, press 5.

You pressed 1. If this is correct, press 1 or say “Yes” after the beep. If this is incorrect, press 2 to return to the previous menu or say “Previous menu.” I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Please wait for the beep and try again.

Okay, so you’re having a fire-related issue or emergency. If you just have a question about fire safety or would like your local fire company to make a presentation at your child’s school, press pound to return to the main menu, then press 4 for the additional help menu.

If this is a fire emergency, please remain calm and tell us how urgent you think the situation is by using your keypad. Enter your number based on a Likert scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being something equivalent to a small grease fire and 10 being along the lines of a full-fledged conflagration or a regretted act of self-immolation. When you enter the number, it must be two digits followed by the pound sign. For example, if your toaster caught fire and you have wooden countertops, you might press “05#”. If you have granite countertops, you might press “02#”.

Sorry, I didn’t recognize that command. Try again, and remember to press pound —

You entered 9. If this is correct, press 1 or —

Okay, 9 is a serious emergency and time is of the essence. Enter your five-digit ZIP code, then press pound.

We’ve done away with the need to enter your four-digit ZIP code extension. But if you know it and want to enter it, do so now, then press pound. Entering your four-digit ZIP code extension could expedite the response time. But 1-866-742-8794 extension 895 — the new 9-1-1™ makes no guarantees as to response times.

You entered 0-8-4-0-2. If —

Before we connect you to the Margate, New Jersey Fire Department, enter your address. Press pound after each part of your address. For spaces, use the star key. For example, for 510 Main Street, press 5-1-0-#-*. Then press the numbers that correspond to your street name, and press pound. In this case, Main Street would be 6-2-4-6-*-78-7-3-3-8-#.

You entered 1-1-4-8-*6-6-7-8-4*-4-8-6-7-8-4-6-4-8-6-6-*2-8-3-6-8-3-#, indicating your address is 1148 North Huntington Avenue. If this is corr–

Now tell us whether it’s a “business,” “apartment complex,” “single family home” or “multiple family home” after the beep.

I heard “single fam–

On which floor of your single family home is the fire? Use two digits followed by pound. For example, if the fire is on the second floor, press 0-2-#. If it is in the attic or basement, press the numbers that correspond to the letters, then press pound. To save you time, the number for attic is 2-2-8-4-2-#. For basement, press 2-2-7-3-6-3-6-8-#. If the fire is in a crawlspace, press those corresponding numbers. Due to the small number of calls for crawlspace fires we’ll skip telling you the number. If you would like to hear the number for crawlspace, press 1 or enter it on your own.

You said the fire is on the second fl–

You’re likely not a professional firefighter, but in your best estimation, tell us how fast the fire is spreading. Use a Likert scale, with 1 being “at a testudinate pace” and 10 being “with the utmost celerity.” We’ve received numerous requests for the definitions of these words, so we’re excited to announce the launch of our dictionary feature. To hear the definitions of these words press 1. The dictionary feature is made possible by the National Education Association. Use two digits followed by pound. So if your fire is spreading at the pace of, say, an overweight cat that doesn’t scare easily, you might enter 0-5-#.

You know your vocab! You said the fire on the second floor of the single family home at 1148 North Huntington Avenue is spreading fast. You’re being routed to your local fire department. After you speak to them, would you be interested in participating in a short survey? We value your feedback and your participation will help us improve our services and save more lives. To participate, stay on the line after speaking with your fire department, then press *-6-#.

If possible, we recommend exiting the site of the fire. If you choose to participate in the survey, please bring a cordless phone with you.

Thank you for calling 1-866-742-8794 extension 895 — the new 9-1-1™ brought to you in part by McDonald’s, where for a limited time you can get two Egg McMuffins for just $3.99.

Good luck with your fast-spreading fire at 1148 North Huntington Avenue in Margate, New Jersey.

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Case Closed: Another Missive From The Pop Culture Dead Letter Office

By: David Jaggard

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From:
Archless & Associates
Private Investigations
555 555th Street
Queens, NY

To:
Mr. Delmont Shannon
444 444th Avenue
Jacks, NY

August 17, 1961

Dear Mr Shannon,

Please be advised that, as per your request, our agency has traced, located, and investigated the movements and, insofar as possible, motivations of one Kristy Lou Salfetto, formerly of 446 444th Avenue, Jacks, New York.

One of our field agents was able to meet with Miss Salfetto and interview her regarding the two issues you have been wondering about.

In response to your first question, namely why — why, why, why, why, why — she ran away, Miss Salfetto offered six reasons, one for each “why.” I must warn you that this information is of a sensitive personal nature and likely to cause you emotional distress. But in compliance with our agreement, herewith are her explanations:

1) You tend to dwell on the past in a morbid, obsessive way. According to Miss Salfetto, your penchant for nostalgic reminiscing tends to put you in a state of nearly constant “misery.”

2) Perhaps due to your own professional or financial shortcomings, you have never purchased an automobile, preferring to walk wherever you go. As she said to our agent, she presumes that you are “still walking on.”

3) Your physical health is also a concern. Specifically she maintains that your heart is no longer “young.” Given that you are only 19 years old, we understand this to be an allusion to a possible cardiovascular condition which discouraged the young lady from entering into a long-term relationship with you for fear of passing on a congenital disorder to her future children. She mentioned that you frequently “feel the pain.” Mr Shannon, this is beyond my professional scope as an investigator, but if what she is referring to here is a chronic sharp ache in your chest and/or left arm, I must advise you to consult a physician immediately.

4) You are apparently not, in her opinion, sufficiently intelligent. The expression she actually used was “doesn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain.”

5) When you get excited your voice tends to rise suddenly in pitch, becoming high and strident. It seems that your former girlfriend could not stress this point enough. She obviously finds it unseemly for a grown man to have an effeminate voice.

6) Lastly, and I am especially sorry to have to report this, but Miss Salfetto also expressed dismay with your “tinny organ.” We assume that the extra “n” in the first word is a typographical error in our investigator’s transcript. Again, I’m no doctor, but perhaps you should look into the possibility of a link between this condition and your vocal abnormality.

Now, as to your second question: Miss Salfetto’s ongoing transient lifestyle makes it impossible to predict “where she will stay” in the future, but we have been able to ascertain her whereabouts since her disappearance. Our agent has determined that, after staying for three days with her grandparents in Deuces, New Jersey, she decided to hitchhike to Los Angeles and spent the next five months living with a string of relatives, friends, casual acquaintances and short-term lovers. She is currently lodged at the home of her uncle and aunt, Francis E. and Valerie E. Trascato of Anaheim, California. A detailed list of her other temporary residences is enclosed.

We trust that you will find this report satisfactory. Please remit by return post the balance of payment due for services and expenses (see itemized bill) and we will consider this case closed.

Yours sincerely,

Seamus Archless

enc:
— Itemized bill
— List of residences, K. L. Salfetto, 1 February 1961 – present
— 23 (twenty-three) surveillance photos, Anaheim Cal., 15 July – 12 August 1961

NOTE: As you can see from the enclosed photographs, Miss Salfetto can no longer properly be called your “little runaway.” She has found employment at a rapid-service motorists’ restaurant they have out there on the West Coast called “McDonnell” or “Old MacDonald’s” (our operative is no longer sure of the exact name). Since accepting this job one month ago, she has eaten all of her meals there and her weight has ballooned to well over 200 pounds. As our investigator puts it, “She ain’t little and she ain’t runnin’ nowhere.”

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The Liddy Memos: A Kindle Excerpt

By: Sharon Riley

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June 3, 2009 –- Everything’s for sale at AIG. The New York Post reports that credit-default-swap seller AIG may have signed a contract to sell its New York headquarters for $100 million and has already sold off its office building in New Jersey for an undisclosed amount. The Post also reports that the company is demanding reimbursement of donations, including the quarter of a million dollars the corporation’s charitable endowment paid out to Citymeals-on-Wheels. AIG executives have been spotted in the hallways of rent-controlled buildings wrestling containers of Jell-O and mushy peas from the gnarled hands of elderly shut-ins, and seen later reselling the trays at Bryant Park food kiosks.

In addition to these schemes, an anonymous employee, who claims to have only received one million dollars of his annual bonus, is raising funds by publishing internal memos issued by now-exiting CEO Edward M. Liddy. The following is a kindle excerpt; full download is available for $29.99:

TO: AIG Major League A.S.S.E.S.
FR: Edward Liddy, CEO
DATE: January 5, 2009
RE: Spring Training Scheduled

Happy New Year and batter up! As CEO, I know business in the big leagues takes constant conditioning, and I am committed to your professional development. It’s a new year and the yellow journalism press attacks are behind us. For the record, they were contractors – NOT AIG employees – who were waxed by underage aestheticians. Now we are flush with Federal Reserve cash and financed to move forward with the Annual Spring Seminar for Executive Success (A.S.S.E.S.) scheduled for the first week of April. You’re our superstar swap sellers and I’m calling you up for Major League A.S.S. training. Pack your cleats and report to camp at the first hole of the ocean front course at The Breakers, Palm Beach.

Please note, due to the entertainment portion of program, this is an employee-only event. Leave the wife and kids at home, A.S.S.E.S. You’ve earned it. Itinerary to follow.

TO: A.S.S.E.S.
FR: Edward Liddy
DATE: January 8, 2009
RE: Spring Training Sessions

Please review the list of financial education seminars to be held at The Breakers Spring Training and enroll in your sessions by January 30th. Celebrity lecturers require a head count before committing to the event:

* Betting on Green: Parlaying the taxpayer’s investment at Monte Carlo roulette.

* Creating the Illusion of Cash Reserves: The slight of hand of selling insurance without the money to pay out the claim. David Copperfield lectures and performs. Trade secrets will be shared.

* Inspiring Investor Trust via the Bow Tie: How to project avuncular warmth and guileless charm while avoiding Ivy League snark. Viewing of Sunday Morning with Charles Osgood followed by a lessons-learned breakout session moderated by Tucker Carlson.

* Risky Debt Financing, Expanding the Client Base: Working with the neighborhood loan shark. There’s still plenty of money to be made by insuring high-risk loans. Actor Joe Pesci leads wise guy panel. Networking cocktail reception and strip club tour to follow.

* How to Feign Knowledge of Bailout Bonuses: Dust off your acting chops. Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke will lead a Stanislavski method class, demonstrating how to effectively fake shock and surprise regarding bailout bonuses. He will teach you how to shake your head disapprovingly and emote moral outrage and disappointment. Ben will help you create a sympathetic working-class-roots backstory for your character. An in-depth analysis of Ben’s winning 60 Minutes performance will be included.

* Philanthropy is the Best Defense: If your acting skills fail you and you must admit to accepting a bailout bonus, charitable giving consultant, television personality, and alternative-energy gadfly Ed Begley, Jr. is here to help. Mr. Begley will give you the names of charities with liberal street cred, most involving the liberation of factory-caged chickens, that you can list as bonus money recipient fronts. Ed will also coach you in how to feign concern for the environment and cruise uninhibited teenage girls in the macrobiotic aisle of the food co-op.

* Hiding Your Wealth in Hard Commodities: Actor George Takei will step you through the process of purchasing and gifting rare Star Trek action figures and collectibles. Bidding on eBay, the buy-it-now option, and exploring the Comic-Con and Trekker convention venues will be discussed. Bonus breakout session offered on the debate over the terms “Trekkie” vs. “Trekker.”

* How the Wealthy Can Apply for Medicaid Health Insurance Benefits: A Power Point tutorial led by the Wal-Mart Human Resources Department. Instructional modules include: diverting assets offshore, forging low-wage pay stubs, and securing a timely interview at Health and Human Services. Social workers will be present to fill out forms.

TO: AIG Employees
FR: Edward Liddy
DATE: March 16, 2009
RE: Annual Welcome Spring Bacchanalia

Due to the media coverage featuring the surprising tar-and-feathering incidents of executive contractors who received bonuses financed by redirected public school and well-baby health care funds, the plans for the Welcome Spring Bacchanalia (formerly titled the Major League A.S.S.E.S. Training Program) have been revised. Under advisement from our PR consulting firm, the venue has been changed from The Breakers in Palm Beach to a public park in the Bronx.

The original ten-day program, scheduled for early April, will be condensed into a half-day event to be held next Saturday. Due to a sexual discrimination lawsuit filed in Manhattan Supreme Court, the event, formerly restricted to male A.S.S. executives, is now open to all AIG contractors and their families.

Management is confident that the Bronx park venue will provide a secure, private location free of hot tar and reporters. AIG maintenance contractor crews have worked hard to clear the park and its surrounding neighborhood of all torches, bubbling oil, pitchforks, and residents.

Despite the change of the meeting location, the original entertainment portion of the program will stand (with the exception of the Lady Boy Ping Pong Review classified as non-family-friendly by HR). Event information follows:

The celebrity golf tournament will be relocated to Monolo’s Miniature Golf and Pawn Shop, adjacent to the park. Paula Abdul and Rosie Perez will participate, raising money to rebuild AIG contractors’ primary residences burned down this week, not properly insured for vandalism. (Please, people, no more ironic postings to the corporate blog on this topic.) Bertha in the Travel Department has the air-transport schedule for arson-displaced contractors now commuting to work from their second homes in East Hampton.

Don’t forget your top-siders! The Anti-regulation Regatta is setting sail! Yacht captains are asked to bring remote-controlled, model boat replicas of their sloops, which will be raced in the storm drain overflow area of the park. We will reschedule the full-scale racing event in the near future, after the few remaining investigative journalism news outlets have folded.

The Breakers “sporty casual” dress code will still apply. Please refrain, however, from wearing any polo shirts, madras blazers, straw boater hats, bow ties, or Nantucket reds bearing the AIG logo. Avoid red and blue clothing, as these colors are associated with two high-profile competing organizations operating on the streets in this area.

Menu: In an effort to reduce our carbon footprint, AIG is going locovore! Instead of flying in the picnic lunch from The Breakers, Rasta Catering on 174th St. will provide a spread of jerk chicken and East River caviar out of the trunk of their vintage El Jefe ’65 Chevy lowrider. As this is a family event, no alcohol will be served. Mountain Dew and Jarritos Guava Soda will be substituted for the vintage 1959 Dom Perignon originally listed on the program menu. The lowrider buffet will be located in the parking lot adjacent to the paddleball court and port-a-johns.

Important health notice: For those with dermal intolerance to synthetic fibers, it is advised that you refrain from participating in the Bacchanalia golf tournament. Mses. Abdul and Perez’s managers have communicated that their clients will be attired in Lycra-blend sportswear and acrylic accessories.

Read the rest of this Kindle book within a minute of placing your order – only $29.99!

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The Next Big Thing: Antisocial Networks

By: Murray Brozinsky

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Abstracts of business plans leaked from Sand Hill Road, the epicenter of future corporate icons and home to storied venture capital firms named after tall trees and taller people about whom they tell tall tales:

facethemusicbook
Facebook for those who recognize the time is nigh to accept the unpleasant consequences of their actions. Friends who link to you on facethemusicbook are like pieces of paper with black spots on them. The more black spots you have, the higher your probability of winning The (Shirley Jackson-esque) Lottery. Stoning by friends and family requires virtual stones, which you can conveniently buy with real money in the facethemusicbook store, making the site’s schemers richer than Carlo Ponzi in a trading pit. Bernie Madoff is such an important revenue stream that he recently got equity in the venture.

Foester
Friendster for people who hate you. The site offers a safe haven for your enemies to plot against you. It has become a magnet for monomaniacal super villains bent on the utter destruction of some of our favorite fictional superheroes. Anarky, Batzarro, Catwoman, Harley Quinn, and Two-Face number among its sworn Batman enemies. The Joker and The Penguin involuntarily opted out when they opted into LockedIn (see below). Much to the chagrin of Foesters everywhere, Mr. Freeze de-registered when he became Governor of California.

Sixteendegrees
Sixdegrees for people who have no friends. The chain of introductions required to reach your desired target is so daunting few ever even try. Members are fond of playing Sixteen Degrees of Alvin Tostig. Nobody has ever won. Ferris Bueller? B u e l l e r? B u e l l e r? There’s not a chance in Shermer High hell that Bueller’s a member.

BeatUp
MeetUp for people who want to hook up with people in meatspace and beat them senseless. Some example BeatUps include: BeatUp Enron, meeting in Houston; BeatUp Fannie & Freddie meeting in Washington, D.C.; BeatUp the Bailout, formerly meeting on Wall Street — next up Detroit. Barney BeatUps used to mean people with bats running down the street after a purple T. rex. Now they mean people with bats chasing after the Congressman from the fourth congressional district of Massachusetts. Curiously, both involve mean people and not-so-funny dinosaurs.

FirstBlackPlanet
BlackPlanet for those who still believe Bill Clinton is the first black President of the United States. Bill is the sole member. Weblogs show Jesse Jackson has repeatedly visited the registration page, along with Al Sharpton, and Alan Keyes. Keyes posted that Christ would never vote for Barak Obama. Christ replied that apparently Obama did not require his vote, and that, in any event, he was not a registered voter.

Stiffs
Eons for old souls who’ve dropped their mortal coils. Members are all dead, with inattentive heirs, on auto-renew. Extremely high margin business owing to no activity, no cost of goods sold, and no operating costs. It’s the closest thing to venture capital heaven — a highly profitable business without customers. It’s to die for. And for that reason, the site will ultimately surpass all social networks in membership, because as the late John Maynard Keynes said, “In the long run we’re all dead.”

LockedIn
LinkedIn for the digerati of the Big House. Everyone’s trying to get an introduction to the warden, who it turns out isn’t a member. The most popular question is ‘what’s the best escape route that doesn’t involve crawling through shit or swimming across shark-infested waters?’ The patent-pending censorship engine ensures no satisfactory answer will be posted. Paradoxically, the more offensive the customer, the more loyal and profitable he is. Bad is good for the LockedIn business model. Lifers get ten free introductions versus just five for those serving ten-year sentences. Death row inmates pose a challenge since modeling their “lifetime value” requires complex probability distributions and a lucky last-minute stay of execution. The site recently introduced video. Selections include: Shawshank Redemption, Escape from Alcatraz, and The Longest Yard.

TheirSpace
MySpace for everyone but you. The tagline for TheirSpace is: A place for friends, just not yours. If you’re a forty year old female PETA member from San Francisco who voted for Hillary Clinton, TheirSpace is populated by a seething crowd of twenty year old, gun-toting boys from Texas who wrote in George Bush for a 3rd term. If you’re Richard Dawkins, TheirSpace is Joel Osteen, Rick Warren, Billy Graham, Tim LaHaye and some one hundred million or so other god-fearing Americans.

assmates
Classmates for the bully set. Membership requires an authenticated recommendation attesting to your asshole-worthiness from those you’ve bullied. Biff Tannen got in on a George McFly recommendation. Flash Thompson made it on a good word from Peter Parker. Doug Niedermeyer has Flounder to thank for his membership. Should be one helluva(n) ass reunion.

aSmallerWorld
aSmallWorld for the dwindling European jet set and social elite who still have enough dough to make them set to jet no matter how bad things get. Many erstwhile members have traded down from jet set to JetBlue.

Bribe
Tribe for people who need to buy their friends. “Please, please be my friend. Please. Here’s my PayPal number.”

bitter
twitter for those gripped by intense antagonism, hostility, and hatred. A 140 character bitter pill. Here’s a “harsh” from Thomas Hobbes: “The life of man is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” And here’s one from a modern heavyweight of harsh, Mike Tyson: “Lennox Lewis, I’m coming for you man. My style is impetuous. My defense is impregnable, and I’m just ferocious. I want your heart.” Bitter is a service for friends, family, and co–workers to communicate and stay connected through the exchange of quick, frequent outbursts of rage. You suck!

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Dress Codes Demystified

By: Whitney Collins

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Black Tie (aka Formal)
Yes: Black tuxedo jackets and matching trousers, patent leather shoes for men. Evening gowns or cocktail dresses for women.
No: Khakis, nose rings.

Black Tie Optional (aka Semi-formal, Indecisive, Passive-aggressive)
Tuxedos or dark suits for men. Evening gowns or cocktail dresses for women. Pantyhose or no pantyhose. Top hat or no top hat. Attend or don’t attend. See if I care. Not that you’d care if I cared. I may not even go myself. I might have something better to do. But if I do end up going, I’ll probably have a sinus infection. Or cancer.

White Tie (aka Ultra-formal)
Pretty much the same as Black Tie. Except racist.

Texas Black Tie
Pretty much the same as White Tie. Except homophobic.
Oh…and spurs.

Executive
Orange jumpsuit, handcuffs, Gucci loafers.

Smart Casual vs. Business Casual
Blue jeans and bifocals vs. Banana slings and ballpoints.

Casual Friday
Dockers, bed heads, Birkenstocks, mild cases of chlamydia.
(Casual Friday is not to be confused with Lackadaisical Wednesday, which permits flip flops and gonorrhea; or Devil-May-Care Tuesday, which authorizes Crocs and crabs. Please note: cutoffs, snoods, gladiator sandals, and genital warts are solely reserved for Manic-Depressive Thursday. We do not care what you wear on Suicidal Sunday, but keep in mind, a little rouge never looked bad on anyone.)

Festive (aka Holiday, Humiliating)
Yes: Sequins, musical neckties, tap shoes, dickies, clown noses, Groucho Marx glasses.
No: Recollection of how you ended up behind the office copy machine spooning with a Chia Pet.

Rugged (aka Sporting, Lesbian)
Yes: Orvis, pelts, slingshots.
No: Spandex, leg warmers, tampons.

Resort (aka Cruise, Water Park)
Yes: Disney attire, fanny packs, cellulite, Aqua Socks, body hair, suspicious moles, third nipples.
No: Concealed weapons, open wounds, Ph.D.s, dignity.

After Five
Yes: Sweatpants, preferably velour. Terry cloth. Red Lobster bibs. Zit cream.
No, I do not want to get back together with you. I just stopped by to get my DVDs and toothbrush. What’s that? I can’t have them until I have sex with you? Hmm. Let me sit here on the couch and think about that. Meanwhile, why don’t you go get me a beer while I finish your lobster? And a glass. A frosty one.

Mardi Gras (see also: Nursing Home, Nursery School)
No: Bras.
Yes: Diapers.

Dressy Casual
Pair an “A” item with a “B” item.
A: Wife beater, overalls, corncob pipe, trucker hat.
B: Tweed knickers, hoop skirt, cummerbund, monocle.

Rehearsal Dinner
Dude! Screw the rented tux; all you’re gonna need is a paper bag for your head. I am so totally going to bring up that time when we did that thing. And that other time when we did that other thing. If I get on a roll, I may even mention those two other times and those two other things! I am so going to make you hate me, and your fiancee hate you! It’ll be awesome, Bro! I’m also going to pick up half of my pork tenderloin during the speech and waggle it between my legs to illustrate a point. Then I’ll shed a few tears before grabbing your grandmother’s ass at the open bar. Soon after, I’ll puke. Any chance I can have your paper bag?

Country Club
Yes: J. Crew “critter” pants, ballet flats, tortoiseshell accessories, alcoholics (non-recovering).
No: Cosby sweaters, Drakkar Noir, Discover cards, Mormons.

Catholic School
Yes: Kilts, hemmed four inches higher than catalog standard. Dime bag in kneesocks. Cigarettes in padded bra. General countenance of ennui.
No: Fishnets. Yarmulkes. Mohawks. Ass-less chaps. Pasties. Pearl necklaces. Chewing gum in confession, Missy.

Le Smoking
Yes: this is an actual dress code.
No: I didn’t make it up.
Suggestions: Wear a beret. Drive your Le Car. Shave your le balls. Plan on doing lots of le cocaine.

Midwestern Thanksgiving Dinner
No: Bare feet, slouching, death metal concert tees, low-rise jeans, hickeys, Methodist jokes, tattoos, scatological humor, mini skirts, eyeliner, eye rolling, Doc Martens, wallet chains, Hannah Montana paraphernalia, or, God forbid, that vulgar v-neck number. What happened to that Lands’ End turtleneck we sent you last Christmas? Don’t tell me you gave it away. It’s probably all because of that man you’re co-habitating with. Oh, mother of pearl…the yams!
Yes: Horse tranquilizers, Snuggie.

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FAQ: The Never-Say-Ow™ Personal Force Field

By: Ralph Gamelli

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Q: I’ve strapped on my force field and activated it according to the instructions. Now what?

Go about your day as usual, free at long last from the nagging worry of being struck by snowballs, rocks or even bullets. Any and all projectiles will bounce harmlessly off your Never-Say-Ow™ personal force field, making your attacker shudder with impotent rage and humiliation. This may be the ideal time to respond with your Glock semi-automatic (not included).

Q: What about other hazards, such as fists? There are a lot of people out there who’d like to punch me.

The person who attempts it is going to shatter every bone in his hand… and leave himself open to a swift and devastating kick to the solar plexus.

Q: The instructions say that the force field is completely invisible and soundless, so how can I be sure it’s actually on?

Simply approach the nearest female and proposition her in the rudest manner imaginable. You may have flinched when she threw her scalding hot coffee at your face, but did you feel anything? No, because it spattered ineffectively against your Never-Say-Ow™ personal force field. (If you did feel something, then no, it wasn’t properly activated. Reread the instruction manual before propositioning anyone else, then perform a safer test, such as having a friend throw a pie in your face.)

Q: Okay, the force field is definitely on, and there’s a certain sense of invulnerability walking around with it. In fact, I almost feel like Superman. I know I can’t fly, but could I act like a superhero with the help of my force field?

I don’t see why not. Conversely, you might choose to emulate a super villain.

Q: I hadn’t thought of that. My first instinct was to go the opposite route.

It doesn’t matter. More and more people are purchasing the Never-Say-Ow™ personal force field every day. Sooner or later, everyone will be on equal footing again. Whether you lean towards heroism or villainy, we recommend you get to it without too much delay.

Q: What about more conventional situations? Can I take a shower with my force field on?

No. You must deactivate it before showering.

Q: What about eating?

You must also deactivate it before eating.

Q: I guess I could turn it off while showering, because I’m in a locked bathroom. But if I’m eating in public and my force field is down, aren’t I leaving myself open to attack?

You better believe it.

Q: What if I turn off my force field, shove a forkful of food into my mouth, then switch it on again real quick?

Good thinking.

Q: I’ve never felt more protected in my life, but I’ve noticed that it still hurts when people say mean things to me. Is there anything my force field can do about this?

Sorry, the Never-Say-Ow™ personal force field is only designed to keep you free from physical harm. You’ll still be vulnerable to insults, mockery and calls from telemarketers.

Q: What about rude gestures and nasty looks?

You’ll remain susceptible to these, as well. Perhaps if you were a bit less sensitive and more of a man, these kinds of slights wouldn’t bother you so much.

Q: I suppose.

We can’t protect you from every little thing, now, can we?

Q: There’s no reason to be condescending.

It’s obvious that even with your Never-Say-Ow™ personal force field, you’ll continue to play the victim. I sensed this the moment you empathized with heroes over villains.

Q: Can we please move on? I have a question about–

Don’t you realize what kind of power you yield now? Only a coward stays on the defensive when he could take anything he wants without fear of injury. Together, with the aid of our Never-Say-Ow™ personal force fields, we could bring this city to its knees. What do you say?

Q: I don’t think so.

You’re either with me or against me.

Q: Stop talking like that, please.

Or what? You’ll give me a nasty look? Boohoo. The question guy looked nasty at me and now I’m going to cry.

Q: I said stop.

Make me.

Q: I’m not kidding. I’ll hit you.

Go for it. Turn off your Never-Say-Ow™ personal force field and I’ll turn off mine.

Q: There. It’s off.

Mine, too. So go on and hit me. I dare you.

Q: Ow!

Woops. Guess I didn’t turn it off after all. Too bad the Never-Say-Ow™ personal force field can’t protect you from being a naive idiot.

Q: My hand!

Looks like you’ve shattered every bone in it. You’ll have to get it looked at. But first, a swift and devastating kick to the solar plexus.

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Breck Steele (Class Of ’89) Gives The Commencement Address At Schwarzenegger University, The University For Action Heroes

By: Pete Reynolds

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Welcome, parents, faculty, alumni, distinguished guests, corrupt city councilman, Turkish arms dealers, kung fu street toughs, intergalactic robots, and members of the Class of 2009.

You know, if you’d told me twenty years ago that one day I’d be standing here on this stage giving the commencement address at my alma mater, I would have said, “You must be from the future…tell me who sent you. Was it Reknar!?!?” You probably would have spit in my face, and I would have pistol-whipped you. Yet, here we are.

As you move out into the world, or outer space, or some alternate fourth dimension involving jumpsuits and holograms, you will face challenges. These challenges will mostly come from people who think they can destroy the world or corrupt your city. But Schwarzenegger U has prepared you to say to them, “Think again,” which they won’t be able to help but do, because, let’s face it: it’s hard to not think, especially on command.

After you’ve forced them to think (again), they’ll often remember that they have a hostage, and it’s usually someone you care about. “Don’t hurt the girl,” you might say, and they won’t. Challenges, people. Challenges.

You’ll have to be careful, though, because those ruthless outlaws, be they Russian, Middle Eastern or space alien, will have henchmen, or, in some cases, sexy henchwomen, tortured by your animal magnetism into tipping off their boss’s location before plummeting to their deaths from a helicopter, or getting sucked out of the hatch of the space station. And at some point, you’re going to have to go toe-to-toe with the largest of those henchmen. But this is where you can apply the lessons you’ve learned here at Schwarzenegger U. Remember that this particular henchman will usually get the best of you for a while, and he’ll tell you that you just don’t know when to quit, do you? But stick with it, because you’ll eventually turn the tide and knock him out, or, in R-rated scenes, kill him. “I’m getting too old for this,” you will say, though your prowess in combat (and, let’s be honest, the bedroom) suggests otherwise.

I remember the first job I took out of SU: Special Black Ops X-Force Renegade Commando for the Inter-Stellar CIA. Almost immediately, I faced challenges, often in the form of an overbearing captain, or explosions. “This isn’t in my job description,” I used to say in complaints to Human Resources. But I overcame those challenges, often with the help of a wisecracking sidekick or the agonizing memory of a deceased fiancée. And today, as I stand here in Willis-Seagal Auditorium looking out at the Class of 2009, I know that you are well-equipped to handle whatever life or Ortega, the Nicaraguan drug lord, throws your way, and —

I’m sorry, folks, I hate to interrupt my remarks like this, but I’ve just been told that I don’t have much time. In the interest of full disclosure, I was pulled off of a secret mission to the Malaysian jungle in the year 2542 to give this commencement address, and I’ve just been informed by my second-in-command that we’ve got company, and that the fate of the Gorkon-Zeptor Interplanetary Union depends upon my timely return.

So, in closing, I’d like to offer a quote that seems particularly pertinent to today’s ceremonies. The quote comes from Professor Doan Klocket — an alumnus of this fine institution, the Vin Diesel Distinguished Professor of Train-Top Knife Fights, and the man who taught me how to defuse a bomb strapped to the wing of a 747, mid-flight. Said Professor Klocket: “The only thing I’m negotiating, Mikhailovich, is the price of the flowers I’ll be sending to your funeral!” These words are as true today as they were in Doan’s Day, which, incidentally, was the title of Professor Klocket’s last movie.

Congratulations, Class of 2009, and Godspeed. I’ll see you in Hell.

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Overheard On The Pool Table

By: Frank Ferri

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13: Look at him. By himself in the corner, thinking he’s so much better than us.

5: I hate to say it, being a solid and all, but 13 is right. 8 is kind of stuck-up–talking only when you ask him a question.

13: And responding like some all-knowing God.

10: Totally. Watch this. “Hey 8, umm, I still have a couple of eggs left in the fridge, but the carton has a sell-by date of two weeks ago. Do you think it’s okay to eat them?”

8: All signs point to yes.

10: See?

14: I’m just playing devil’s advocate here. Believe me, I’m a stripe and I have no soft spot for any solid. But of course he’s a bit self-satisfied–people call him the Magic 8-Ball. Name me one ball in all of cue sports that wouldn’t get a big head with a name like that.

13: Fine, but why does he need to say things like “It is decidedly so” and “My sources say no.” What sources? The cue stick chalk?

1: I’m with 13 on this. Last week I was just rolling by 8, and I said, “Nice weather we’re having, huh?” And you know what the bastard said to me? He said, “Better not tell you now.” Like his opinion on the weather is some big government secret.

11: I hear you. We were ordering pizza the other day, so I asked him if he wanted pepperoni. Simple, right? He just looked at me and said, “Concentrate and ask again.” I swear to God I almost knocked him off the table.

14: It’s true, he could show some tact. But what if it’s some weird neurological disease. I asked him what he did over the holidays, and he just said, “Yes, definitely.” I asked him again, slower, but still he just said something like, “Don’t count on it.” It made absolutely no sense.

13: I’m gonna feel like a real jerk if 8 does have a medical issue. I’ve been kinda cold to him.

11: Well I don’t think he has any “issue” other than being passive-aggressive. I asked him if he thinks my stripe makes me look fat, and he said, “Better not tell you now.” Might as well have called me a cow.

6: So I’m at Cue Ball’s birthday…

12: What? There was a party for a ball that knocks us around all day? Oh, and thanks for the invite.

6: We kept it small. Anyway, I asked 8 if he wanted cake. He says, “Cannot predict now.” I’m thinking, “Jackass, I’m not asking you to ‘predict’ anything. I’m asking if you want a piece of vanilla cake with chocolate frosting.”

2: Drugs. I think it’s drugs.

14: Whoa. That’s a heck of a thing to say. Better have proof.

2: Proof? Don’t you see the white powder on him 24/7?

14: That’s the hand talc, you idiot. All of us get it on us.

2: I’m just saying. I asked him a really easy question, something like “Did you like High School Musical 3?” He just kind of stared at me for what seemed like a full minute. Then he said, “Reply hazy, try again.”

1: Definitely drugs.

15: Oh please. It’s not drugs and it’s not a brain issue. He’s just a conceited jerk. And I’m waiting for the day he asks me a question. I’ll knock his ass into the corner pocket and say “Outlook not so good, bitch.”

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What I’m Thinking During My First Bikram Yoga Class

By: Ethel Rohan

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Pranayama

This is nice: standing, breathing deep. It’s good to be alive.

Ardha Chandrasana with Pada Hastasana

Yes! I am a half-moon. And I can kinda touch my toes.

Utkatasana

Squatting is awkward. Squatting on my toes is awkward and weird. Squatting on my toes with my knees together and arms outstretched just isn’t happening.

Garurasana

Okay, I’m squatting, I’m twisting arms, twisting legs, twisting like an eagle, twisting, twisting, twisting…and I’m flat on the floor. Sorry about that, folks.

Dandayamana-Janushirasana

Stand with one leg locked, got it, and with the other leg stretched straight out in front bring your nose to your knee. You lost me at “the other leg.”

Dandayamana-Dhanurasana

Stand with one leg pulled back and arced up over the head and the other arm reaching toward the mirror: reach, reach, reach. Okay, I can do this, but it’s sure hot in here. “Fluid yoga,” they got that right. The last time I sweat this much it was two decades back and I was drunk at a disco in a skintight polyester pantsuit and dancing like the outfit was inhabited by a swarm of fire ants.

Tulandandasana

Okay, balance like a stick. I can do this. Yeah, I’m doing this. Perhaps more snapped twig than straight stick, but hey.

Dandayamana Bibhaktapada Paschimottanasana

Stand straight, separate legs five feet, lean forward, and touch your forehead to the floor. Surprisingly, I can almost do this, and it feels good. Although the only thing that could get my head any closer to the ground right now would be a guillotine.

Trikanasana

Wee! I am a triangle.

Dandayamana Bibhaktapada Janushirasana

You want me to put what where? Boy, they’re really into the whole touching your nose to your knee thing, aren’t they?

Tadasana

Maybe I could stand like a tree if I wasn’t dripping in sweat and unable to hold my slippery foot in place. Damn it’s hot.

Padangustasana

She’s kidding, right?

Savasana

Yes, thank you! I never thought I’d feel so happy to assume a corpse pose. What? This pose is over already?

Pavanamuktasana

Is she going to talk throughout the entire class? Where’s the quiet, the stillness, the “shut up and let me think about anything else besides what I’m doing right now, thank you very much?”

Sit-Up

I hate sit-ups, but at least I can pronounce them. There go the trumpets: more farts than at an Irritable Bowel Syndrome convention. I hope I don’t let loose.

Bhujangasana

Cobras: they swallow their kill whole, right? Can swallow prey up to fifty times their size, or did I just make that up?

Salabhasana

Locust, pocust. This is a doddle. I’m so coming back tomorrow.

Poorna Salabhasana

And I was doing so well.

Dhanurasana

I’m making such a fine bow someone needs to pick me right up and wrap me around something.

Supta Vajrasana

No way, I’m not even trying that. I’m just going to lie here in corpse pose and luxuriate in the fact that I’ve probably lost five pounds of fluid since hauling my sorry ass in here.

Ardha Kurmasana

Someone’s sure detoxifying! I can taste that stink.

Ustrasana

What does she mean we shouldn’t drink too much water during class? I’m so thirty right now I could hack open a camel’s hump and drink straight from it.

Sasangasana

How many frigging poses are there?

Janushirasana with Paschimottanasana

I can’t get my nose to touch my knees, okay? Not in this pose or any other pose. We’re not all elastic or plastic or whatever it is you’re made of, because you’re not human. I am so never coming back here. They so better give me a refund on my membership.

Ardha Matsyendrasana

This is like that scene in The Exorcist, where Regan’s head spins.

Kapalbhati in Vajrasana

Which one of my stomachs would you like me to snap exactly? And if I only had one stomach that I could snap sixty times in sixty seconds I wouldn’t need to be here, now would I?

Namaste my arse.

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* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where we love a parade.

* Only Miles Klee loves a parade more than we do, as he explains in his Big Jewel debut.

Let’s Go Parade

By: Miles Klee

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Chapter 37: New York City

After accidentally merging with a parade column, take a moment to panic. Seize the wheel and yank as though a dislodged steering column is the answer. To drive at the speed of tourism behind a thing of papier-mâchéd chickenwire riddled with lip-synching Broadway lifers (and, like them, with no means of escape from hollow spectacle) is certainly worth your upset. Release tension with a few staggered honks — no one will even hear.

People may have heard. Did onlookers react with morose puzzlement and a touch of disbelief? Are they openly weeping? Underneath the flowers and American flag, is the “float” ahead of you a hearse? Badgering the funeral procession of a local dignitary isn’t the end of the world, but so far nothing has been. Get out and apologize.

The sick dazzle of a beer bottle exploding on your skull argues a grave misreading of the situation. Whoever’s dead must’ve been a controversial figure if their memorial service can pivot to wanton riot on a modest faux pas. Get back in the car. Apply pressure to the head wound. Swear the same way twice.

Applying tip #32 — Anarchy Is Just A Poorly Organized Parade — let’s assess the escalating frenzy as we would a ticker-tape celebration. People swarming your Corolla, destroying the futon you spent two hours securing to the roof with twine, siphoning your sixteenth-of-a-tank of gas: These actions give the impression of sheer chaos. In fact, such pack behavior is de rigueur among euphoric sports fans, the only difference being that unaffiliated rioters can hold their liquor.

Ticker-tape parades are only held in honor of a Giants Superbowl victory or the Yankees signing a player whose contract mandated a ticker-tape parade. If you see a fair number of Mets hats and Mr. Met himself, high-fiving like he needs the flu, well, there’s still no way it’s a parade for the Mets, who these days if they balanced the city budget and caught Osama bin Laden could at most hope not to be spat on in their local Duane Reade. Take no chances: Roll down the window, identify yourself as belonging to the nebulous “we” that encompasses an athletic team and the people who pay to watch them exercise, declare victory in no uncertain terms, and for God’s sake, don’t mention hockey.

OK, shameless bandwagoner boasting didn’t play well. Concede the windshield wipers and hubcaps, they’re as good as resold on Canal Street. Ditto the futon — your girlfriend was never going to allow plaid furniture in the new apartment, and those bed bug exterminators were none too thorough. So, karma! Still, time and options are running out: you’ve got to figure out what festivity you’ve ruined.

Yes, from running over balloon vendors to exchanging slurs with the gentleman in a Testaverde jersey hacksawing your radio antenna, everything’s easier with a sense of background. But before you jump to conclusions, recall tip #55: Dates Can’t Be Trusted, as New York City’s overstuffed public events schedule ensures that any parade can fall on any day, subject to the caprices of a giddy City Hall intern. Tip #106 (Color Is King) comes in handy here. Ever ask a colorblind person what a given parade is about? Tears will collect in his/her defective eyes as s/he mumbles something like, “I don’t know, I thought maybe The Festival of Brown.”

Should green, white and red abound, for example, you may be the tail end of Macy’s Thanksgiving affair and under attack by overprotective Santa groupies. Check the rearview. Same colors? In the form of plastic hats, sun-deprived skin and pubic hair left exposed by inadequate kilts? That’s St. Patrick’s Day. By the luck o’ the Irish, which history argues is scant, you’re the soberest person in a five-mile radius. Sure takes the pressure off. Unless you’re driving under the influence, in which case, congratulations! — you’re now the lead float in the St. Patrick’s Day parade. Hunker down; your mottled futon resembles a half-assed tribute to the Blarney Stone, and the rabble intent on kissing it will terribly compound your phobia of strangers’ lips.

Dispersing them will require the parade’s sole weakness: Rain. Dance to invoke proper gods — provided this parade isn’t some new part of Native American Week, of course. Feel free to pray for other disruptive circumstances if you’re unsure. The prepositional plea could just have easily been “Don’t earthquake under my parade,” or “Don’t run alongside my parade, brandishing a potato cannon.”

Alas, if you’ve succumbed to dramatic instincts and climbed atop the car yourself, a car now being overrun like the supporting lead in a zombie flick, hoping to make an impassioned speech that rises above the rollicking Sousa-blare of Ohio State’s marching band (flat, going flatter), a speech that questions the merits of reducing ethnicities to annual ambles along major avenues, or the necessity of confetti in a deforested world, or the causes of an apparent police barricade shortage, then you’ll probably learn tip #1 the hard way: Here No Salmon Swim Upstream. Except maybe at the Coney Island Mermaid Parade.

Even then, you’d need a costume to really sell it.

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