Pics of Gay Johnsons!

A trusted spy sent me these pics of a REAL place: it is in Colorado and it's called Gay Johnsons.



Can you imagine the hilarity of the conversations that mention this place? Well, keep on imagining because I'm not even going to do it justice:

"Honey, could you go fill up the tank at Gay Johnsons?"

"Sure, baby. Gay Johnsons has great hot dogs."

This one's for you, Joey Polanski!

Because no one else reads my blog on blogspot. Well, Shoun does once in a while but he HAS to read my stuff now and then because he publishes it. And that creepy anonymous stalker reads it occasionally, but he or she doesn’t even post on anything recent – they always “hide” their post way down on some old blog. – Hey anonymous commenter – I get an email when you comment! That’s right, I am notified! I know what you're doing!

But anyway, thanks Joey Polanski. You make me feel like a star and that’s pretty tough to do. You’re the best.

Public Service Announcements: I Am Not A Map

Maps. They were invented long ago, no matter what continent you are talking about. They are usually graphic representations of geographic locations - pretty handy if you want to know how to get from Point A to Point B. I suggest you pick one up if you are unfamiliar with where you are going. These days, you can even look one up on the Internet. Try mapquest.com. Or if you are in Seattle, I think lostinseattle.com is cool. Anyway, maps can help you.

Here is what a map isn't, just in case you are confused. A map is not a six foot tall, short haired, skinny, neurotic, geeky weirdo who walks all over the place because he has no car.

Thanks for listening. I was noticing that a lot of you were confused about this. Maybe now you can get where you're going without pestering me.

One last thing: if you are an unquestioningly attractive, available female, please disregard the above notice. In that one particular instance, I am most certainly a map.

Let's do to old people what we do to old elephants! It makes plain sense!

The lovely Cassandra suggested the topic, "Elephants," and even though she did not win any of the choose-my-blog-topic contests, she tried. And sometimes that's all that matters (if you're cute).

So this is where old elephants go: The Elephant Sanctuary.

Can you imagine how much easier it would be to get Gramma and Grampa to go to a home if we called it a sanctuary? And we could describe the place better, too (I'm stealing from the Elephant Sanctuary site, replacing the word "elephant" with "old people"):

The Old People Sanctuary in Hohenwald, Tennessee, is the nation's largest natural-habitat refuge developed specifically to meet the needs of old people. It is a non-profit organization, licensed by the U.S. Department of Agriculture and the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency, designed specifically for old, sick or needy people who have been retired from zoos and circuses. Utilizing more than 2700 acres, it provides two separate and protected, natural habitat environments for Asian and African old people. Our residents are not required to perform or entertain for the public; instead, they are encouraged to live like old people.

Phil Snyder, regional director of the Humane Society of the United States has stated, "The Old People Sanctuary represents the future of enlightened captive old people management."

Sounds much better, doesn't it, Gramps?

The Innocence of Iowans

In parts of the midwest, there is a chain of gas station convenience stores that goes by the name of Kum And Go. It is pretty hilarious. But Iowans seem to not understand the joke. Somehow, they are unable to associate the name with any kind of sexual act.

There is a library in the heart of Iowa that raised funds by bricking a pathway with the names of families and companies that donated money. Kum And Go donated a good sum and the result, hilariously, was that somewhere in Iowa there is a brick outside a library that implies you should wank off onto it and get out of there. See for yourself:

If Hitler had designed LEGO sets.... an MLK Day extravaganza!

"If black people were in Germany during World War II, the Holocaust would have never happened.... At least, not to Jews." - Sarah Silverman

Mr. Sassy Pants was one of two contest winners (the contest was to see who could name the date of my first blog ever posted on MySpace). He argued that the blog where I recycled an old letter was technically the first blog I ever wrote that appeared on MySpace - I just hadn't posted it first. For that I had to agree that he did win.

Here was his topic, in a nutshell: "The Lego Universe is not the utopia that it tries to present itself as in the brochures and colorful box sets. There's a dark underbelly in Lego Land."

Intrigued, I did some research. I love LEGO, but there is always something to find when you look, right? So I looked and after a long eight minutes, I thought I had found it: the dark underbelly of LEGO, the tiger in the black dotted eye, the monkey in the plastic wrench. Take a look:


LEGO Gas Chamber

LEGO Concentration Camp

LEGO Gleeful Soldier

Notice the LEGO baton smack-down!

Looks pretty scary, doesn't it? Yeah. But if you read this article, you'll find that, though LEGO did willingly participate in the making of these sets, they did so for some very intelligent reasons.

LEGO agreed to work with the artist, Zbigniew Libera, in producing this limited edition series for retail because of the profound social statement Libera was trying to make. I won't go into it - read the article if you're interested. But I did find this idea very provoking: that the LEGO pieces in the box could be used to build just about anything - it is only the stark image on the front that sets the tone of the set.

So you see, I went looking for the dark underbelly and found only more respect for the company. I am actually proud of them for taking part in this very controversial artistic endeavor. I didn't find the dark underbelly of LEGO. I failed Mr. Sassy Pants and all of you. But that is the way of things. Everytime I try to find fault with LEGO, they appease me. When I pointed out that they didn't have a black LEGO figurine, they made many. When I pointed out that they didn't have a Lando Calrissian Star Wars LEGO figurine, they made him and his whole Cloud City.

"Martin Luther King... I had a fuckin' dream, too!" - Sarah Silverman

You might think that only black people have a good reason to celebrate the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. But the man was cut down just when he was broadening the scope of his message, when he was no longer talking about race so much as class. And class affects us all, whether you're black, Jewish, or a no good white man, like me.

CIA Agent Jones Tricked Me!

I should not have underestimated him.

Remember how I found a source for my Everest gum, despite an evil CIA plot to make my life miserable?

Well, I finished my last tin of Everest and broke open one from the new source and what do you know? It is not the Peppermint kind. It is the Wintergreen flavor. CIA Agent Jones tricked me!

I wasted no time in buying out my source of Everest gum and apparently I was so excited at finding it that I didn't see that it was the wrong flavor! I mean, Wintergreen is okay, but only the Peppermint freshens my breath well enough.

I'll get you for this, CIA Agent Jones!

A Transcript: President Bush's first meeting with advisors after 9-11...

September 11, 2001. This is the transcript of the first official meeting of Bush and his advisors, upon hearing the news of the attacks on the World Trade Center. I have pieced this together from a well-researched source. If you truly want to know what Bush was talking about in his first meeting that day, read on:

PRESIDENT GEORGE BUSH: I'm sure we've all got questions. I've got questions. Let's start with some questions. Anyone want to start?

SALLY MATHESON: Why don't you start, Mr. President?

BUSH: Okay. Well, the first thing that comes to my mind is, how come the caterpillar was so hungry? That darned caterpillar ate up all that stuff. How'd he get so hungry?

BILLY JORGENSEN: My older brother says that when he smokes pot he gets all starving.

BUSH: Yeah, I've uh…I've heard that. Not like cocaine, is it?

JORGENSEN: What’s coke-ane?

BUSH: It's a…it's a special kinda' coke.

MILLIE PETERS: Do you like it?

BUSH: I've uh…I actually don't know what you're talkin' about.

PETERS: About the coke-ane, silly!

BUSH: Yeah, uh…so any more questions about the book? I'd love to talkinate with you all about this here litera-…liter…this here book.

JIMMY DOBBINS: Why are your nose hairs gray?

BUSH: Well, that's a…that's a condition. Er, not a condition except in that it's a condition of bein'. Like bein' a condition. Of age. It's an age thing, you see, when a duck gets old, the gander…uh…when a duck gets old he takes a gander at a goose.

DOBBINS: Is that why hairs grow out of grown-ups' moles?

[SILENCE]

BUSH: Andrew?

CHIEF OF STAFF ANDREW CARD: [UNINTELLIGIBLE WHISPERS]

BUSH: Uh…yes.

RACHEL SMITH: Why do you think the caterpillar was so hungry?

BUSH: Well, I uh…I think he was just concerned, you know. He was thinking of all those other countries out there that might get his food and well…he just…well see, if you count all your chickens and they're hatched, well then shame on you. And if uh…if you count all your chickens and they try to bite you, well then, uh…I can count, if that's what you're asking. If you're asking me, as the president, if I can count, well yes, ma'am, I'll tell you in three words that I can count good.

I have beaten you, CIA Agent Jones!

Or Johnson or whatever your name is.

I admit. It was kind of funny when you got assigned to me and had nothing better to do than eliminate all sources of my favorite gum, Everest.

And it took me a while to figure out what had happened, too. I was living in Denver at the time and even contacted the company. When they responded, listing several places that I knew USED to carry Everest, I realized something was up. Obviously, you were intercepting the shipments that were supposed to go to Target and the 7-Eleven. And everywhere else in Denver, too.

But then I found that little convenience store in the new Webb Building. You didn't think about that place, did you?! Or maybe you thought it was just hilarious watching me go through security there just to buy a tin of Everest gum.

Ha. Real funny, Agent Jones. I got wise to you in the end, though - I bought online. Yes, you made sure Everest's direct purchase web form was not working but you couldn't stop candydirect.com, could you? Of course, I had to buy a case, but if you refrigerate them they stay pretty fresh.

Now I've moved to Seattle. At first, I saw Everest everywhere. I thought, "Did Agent Jones get reassigned?"

I soon realized - you knew I still had half of that case of Everest left. So you were biding your time, making me feel secure about my ability to buy Everest in all of the places that Everest's customer service representative told me I should be able to buy it.

But as soon as the case of Everest was down to its last tin of gum I realized: Everest was nowhere. I checked Target, 7-Eleven and all those other corporate chains and could not find it!

You are a wily one, you!

But you see, I found a source. I found a place in Seattle where I can buy Everest and I don't even have to go through a metal detector! And I'm not telling you where it is, Agent Jones!

A State of the Aaron Address

Many people have asked, whether out of concern or just curiosity: why haven't I been evicted yet? Months ago, I walked out on a job at The Corporation determined to become a paid writer or be evicted trying. Well, neither has happened. Yet.

However, I've come up with a solution for now: I'm going back to school (with Rodney Dangerfield!).

Yes, I know. I'm disappointed, too. I was actually looking forward to the eviction. It would have been fun to couch surf for a while, just me and my laptop and a long list of friends I've wanted to visit and mooch off of.

But liquidating the rest of my possessions just felt like it would be a big chore. It seemed easier NOT to get evicted, to just put rent on the card and not have to try to sell the 1969 Contessa acoustic guitar my mom gave me. Or the 1974 Fender Precision bass my aunt gave me. I kept those. I also have kept a few books and the master tapes of many recording sessions. Oh yes, and the LEGO bricks are still safe and sound in their five Rubbermaid tubs.

Rest assured - I have not come back to my senses. I'm going back to school, which is normally a smart thing to do, but I'm doing it the wrong way. I'm paying twenty grand a year for tuition to finish up a Bachelor's Degree. And get this: my degree will be useless. Yes, that's right. It will not help me get a job.

So again, I assure you, the absolutely insane writer wanna-be is still quite insane and is still putting writing at the forefront of all priorities.

My degree may end up being called "Creative Writing, Contemporary Fiction and the Future of Book Design" or something like that. You see, I get to decide what my degree will be in and what I want to study. This is what you can have if you're willing to go twenty grand into debt per year, not counting living expenses. So, my degree, you see, will be tailored to the writing that I want to do anyway. Genius! (That is, it's "genius" if one doesn't care about fucking one's self financially.)

So that's it. I got the maximum Stafford Loans, a small sum from a Pell Grant (thank goodness, whoever Pell was). And I'll be living off money that Sallie Mae agreed to loan me.

I just thought you should know. I'll get back to the funny next time.