Monthly Archives: April 2008

Telepathy Driving School


Are you having trouble finding a drivers education school that understands you already know all that ‘stuff’ so ‘book learning’ is a waste of your valuable time?

If so, the Telepathy Driving School is for you! By following the rules of the road and laws of physics ingrained in your head, you can accumulate the state requirements for a drivers license from the comfort of your home!

To get started call one of our ‘certified’ Telepathy Driving School instructors and in moments you’ll be the king or queen of the road just like you’ve always thought you were!

Call now and the Telepathy Driving School will answer that nagging question,

“Why DIDN’T the other driver know I was going to do that?”


The Telepathy Driving School knows you already know HOW to drive. It’s those other idiots beeping all the time that need help! We’re only here to guide you into your own ‘driving Zen’ where, if you’re not the only person on the road, you sure as hell should be!

The Telepathy Driving School course will cover such ‘knowledge enhancements’ as:

Turning Useless Turn Signals Into Flower Vases!

Horns Only Make It Difficult To Concentrate On Your Phone Conversations!

Use An Accent Light To Turn The Rearview Mirror Into A Useful Vanity For Personal Grooming!

Master Stopping In The Middle Of The Street To Check Out The DVD Playing In The Back Seat!

And many, other topics! So, let’s get started!

Check out the low costs and simpler tasks you’ll need to complete to become another satisfied graduate of the Telepathy Driving School!


We’re glad to see you’re interested in perusing the patented ‘Drive By Thought’ theory of motor vehicle operation offered by the Telepathy Driving School.

Be warned, driving with disregard to life and limb isn’t for everyone. Ask yourself this simple question to see if you are, indeed, Telepathy Driving School material:

While on the phone, Flamunda relays information of vital importance that would force you to backtrack three blocks to attend to the sale, I mean, situation.

Due to this information you need to take a left across two lanes of traffic during a busy traffic time RIGHT NOW! Do you, without signaling, looking back or in any way checking the consequences of your action, cross those lanes while wondering what all the beeping’s about?

Good Answer! You, my friend, are definitely Telepathy Driving School material. So, click here to purchase your ‘course’ materials.


Wow! You sure are excited about becoming the newest graduate of the Telepathy Driving School, aren’t you?

We understand your excitement! We were once proud graduates of this fine institution. We could regale you with hours of wonderful stories about the times we’ve tied up traffic just so we could fine that perfect radio station and so many others, but we know why you’re here!

You want to know about the Telepathy Driving School exclusives for our wonderful graduates.

Okay now, think hard. Are you thinking? Are you ‘getting’ our ‘vibe’? You do? You KNOW what the Telepathy Driving School Grad Exclusives are?


Now all you have to do is complete the course to receive those wonderful Telepathy Driving School exclusives!

For those who didn’t ‘get’ our ‘vibe’, well, tough. Not everyone is ready to become a Telepathy Driving School graduate.

We’re a small but powerful institution and like it that way!

But don’t feel bad, you can become an ‘Associate’ member by telling the world you know we’re out there. Just click here and join us, if not in action than in spirit!

You’ll be glad you did!


What better way to show the world you are not only an esteemed graduate of the Telepathy Driving School but also know it’s there fault for being less enlightened!

That’s right! Once you’ve passed the Telepathy Driving School course you’ll find it even easier to ignore the ‘laws’ the ‘government’ has ruthlessly implimented than you already do. And there is no better way to celebrate your newly certified dereliction than with a bumper sticker that trumpets that fact to all those screaming behind you!

Check out the Telepathy Driving School official swag, click here to get the item that best describes YOU to get yourself hooked up and tell the world,

“You should know where the fuck I’m going!”

I’ve been. . .

. . .in kitchens like this: 

My Props

I met with a guy to close out a rewrite. It was basically a meeting to smooth out hard feelings. His not mine. People seem to get their panties in a bunch when I say things like,

“This section here? Fifty pages? Gone.”

“But that’s my favorite part!”

“Always is.”

So he flies in (something I don’t get) and we grab a beer. I put my last check in my pocket and let him talk it out (another thing I don’t get).

Issue: I was insensitive to his feelings.
Response: Paper doesn’t have feelings, fiction can’t cry and you’re not my project so I don’t care about you.

Issue: I was curt with him.
Response: I can’t hold hands and type.

Issue: I called him ‘an insufferable piss bag so in love with the concept of your words you can’t see past the pile of shit you left there.’*
Response: You should have heard what I really wanted to say.

* He read that from notes of a telephone conversation he’d taped. He taped all our conversations. Why? To playback like the Zapruder film? No joke. He used to call me and play me what I said. What am I going to say? “Yep, that’s what I said.”

While he’s telling me what his script consultant, agent, mother have said he admits he’s happy with his script. That’s all I want to hear. Did I do a satisfactory job? Yes? Good. The rest I have to sit and listen to because, to quote him, ‘creative people have to express.’ Yeah, and I have to void.

We’re wrapping up when a girl I dated wanders over. She’s happy to see me and tells the guy how much fun we had. She’s right, we did have fun. Just one of those relationships that wouldn’t work. I can be a little rough around the edges and she bled easily. She laughs a little, reminisces a little before leaning down for a peck while saying,

“And he was quite something in bed.”

The guy looks at me as she walks back to her awaiting husband and two kids. None of which looked like me. Well, the husband maybe a little. The guy turns back to me and says,

“Quite something in bed, eh?”

I finish the sip of my frosty adult beverage and say,

“Yeah, I have mad sheet cred.”

A Reminder

That Jim Carrey was funny.

Yo! VIP’s
Let’s kick it
Alright stop while I do up my laces
This kinda thing happens every show, yo
I gotta learn how to tie a bow
What’s your real name?

Robert Van Winkle
Why did you change it?
Nothin’ ryhmes with Winkle
I’m white, and I’m capitalizin’ on trend that’s currently risin’
Mix it with Curly and Larry and Moe
Whoop Whoop Whoop Whoop Whoop hey yo!
When you gonna stop?
Maybe never, I become richer with every endevor.
I’m livin’ large and my bank is scooped
Cause I just listen to real rap and dupe it
White white baby
He’s white white baby
So very white white baby
Extremely white white baby
I’m a little teapot short and stout
Groove Vanilla Ice work it out
I told the world I was stabbed in the butt
But it was a toilet paper cut
He’s white white baby
What is he?
White white baby
He’s white white baby
His thing is white white baby
He’s just a white white baby
Were talking white white baby
Hey guys!
Yo I’m not stupid, I just dupe it
Word to ya mudda

At Church

I know, you’re shocked to read those words and, for the most part, you’re right. I’m not much of a church goer. And things don’t seem to go well when I’m there.

I was best man at a wedding and, while waiting backstage, I had to shit. Good thing there was a bathroom right there. I go in and, unbeknownst to me, while I was in there really struggling, the priest and groom came back into the outer room.

To say that this was the loudest shit in my life would be the truth. To say I was quite surprised when I walked out and saw the priest and groom looking at me would also be the truth. I could also tell by their expression they expected me to say something. So I raised my arms triumphantly and exclaimed,

“I’m shitting for Jesus!”

This time wasn’t that much fun (at least in that one I got to void). It was crowded so we had to stand there anda there’s a kid in front of me. A baby. One of those babies aged somewhere between having lost that new baby smell and wanting to place it in a sleeper hold until it leaves home (for more on my look at babies you can always wander over to a story that lost me more than one job: Between crying and kicking the kid spotted me. And he keeps looking at me. That happens quite often. Sometimes I think they’re thinking,

“Damn! What the hell do they feed that bald ass baby? He’s huge!”

But other times I think they’re thinking,

“Zeverp blegrf fracka fracka blurg flerp.”

As you can see, I vacillate on how smart I think babies are.

But this one kept staring at me. I more or less ignore the kid. When it catches my eye I stare it down. I don’t trust babies. They don’t talk. They just stare. And when caught they pretend not to be doing whatever it was they were doing. They’re like tiny PIT’s (Perverts In Training). Finally the mother looks up at me and smiles. I smile back (I am in the house of the Lord, after all) and the woman says,

“I guess he finds you fascinating.”

“That’s because, to anything with pliable head, I am.”

I know the woman didn’t hear me or believe she heard me correctly so we kept smiling. Now the kid starts making more noise and is reaching for me. When this happens, my girlfriend becomes even more annoyed. Not only is this thing dragging but every time one baby somewhere in the room makes a sound others, unseen but definitely heard, respond like a diaper wielding choir.

I look at the woman and then at the kid. I lean down slightly and say,

“Does he like jokes?”

The woman beams and says that, yes, as a matter of fact, he’s quite adroit in his understanding of that comedic genre. I smile as I lean into the kid to begin.

“Two lesbians walk into a bar. . .”

I’m not kidding when I say the air was filled with baby powder at the speed in which she whisked the child away.

How Do You Say?

Forvo is the place where you´ll find words pronounced in their original languages.  It even has bad words.

Sorry, I’ll try not to make a habit of this type of thing.

Ten Other Things

Some time ago Wendy asked for a list of things people don’t know about me (or something. All I remember is it was list oriented. I’m lucky I’ll remember enough to get through this bit). I didn’t do it because:

1) there must be a reason people don’t know it

2) if no one knows it that means I was alone

3) If I was alone it was probably boring

4) I forgot what was supposed to go here

So the best I could come up with is a list of things people know but don’t often talk about.

1 – I made two brothers laugh at the same time making them blow their respective beverages out their respective noses.

2 – I got kicked out of boy scouts for high sticking.

3 – I was shaving my head, reached around to rinse the razor and cut a swath across my ass cheek.

4 – When I was 15-16 I did basketball clinics with NBA players and realized average sized 15-16 year olds should not have to use the same locker room as gentlemen from the NBA.

5 – I’ve always been happy my Mother didn’t name me after my father.

6 – I know too much about the movie Slap Shot and laugh every time I watch Pootie Tang. “I’m going to sine your pitty on the runny kine!”

7 – I’ve met most of my childhood heroes and a huge percentage of them were assholes.

8 – I never got around to getting a drivers license.

9 – Although I’ve never played the sport, I really love curling.

10 – I farted in front of ten thousand people. Yes, they all heard. Yes, they all knew it was me.

Okay, I’ll admit it’s not much but I’m a pretty boring, work-a-day kinda guy who does nothing that different from others.

That’s why I rarely write about me.