www.leefur.com

See? Link

(I should note now that I'm assuming you've forgotten I have a blog, Mom and Dad. If not, now would be a good time.) 

Catherine: hmmm do i want leftover yams? they're probably super fattening
me: then ... no?
me: uh, yes?
me: what does the boy say to that question ... hmm ...
me: let's see how i can do ...
me: Well sweetie, you certainly look fantastic and have nothing to worry about with them being "super fattening". But if it's going to make you feel bad, then you shouldn't eat them. Either way, I'd love to perform some oral sex on you tonight.
me: How was that?
Catherine: um, perfect?
Catherine: ha
Catherine: but seriously, very well written. maybe you should do a "how to talk to your woman" blog
me: i love the challenge of it.
me: cuz yall read so deep into every word, it's way easy to misstep
Catherine: and you have to do a "how to talk to your man" section as well of course
me: that's easy "tell him he's strong, hot, and has a huge, satisfying penis, and all you wanna do is see how far down your throat you can get it."
me: girl 1: "Well what if my boyfriend tells me he's really sad because his best friend is moving to Detroit?"
me: answer: See above.
me: girl 2: "My boyfriend's grandma just died. What can I say to him?"
me: answer: See above.
me: girl 3: "My boyfriend got his dick caught in a lawnmower. What can I say to him?"
me: answer: Oh. Uhh. Hmm. Nothing. Just shut up and make him a steak. It's all he's got left.
Catherine: or she could buy him an Xbox 360 so he has some sort of stick to play with.
me: oh, yeah, good one!
me: very good addition
me: but while he's playing xbox ...

I'm waiting for Snapfish to wake up and send me a link to the photos from this weekend's sinful bash (if drinking is a sin). Check back every minute from now until whenever that finally happens. Ready ... go!

Refresh. Click. Refresh...

A couple weeks back, I mentioned my selection in a battle of wits. My six word novel was chosen as one of three to be designed by legend Cey Adams onto a shirt that would be sold to benefit the Red Cross. Anyway, the shirts are available. Here's the link.

At some point a while back, I pointed to this post, introducing the Six Word Novel.

This month, Spider ran the third monthly installment of the Six Word Novel forum (here's July, August, September). This time there was a contest attached. Cey Adams, legendary graffiti artist who has done covers for Run DMC and the logo for the Chappelle Show, and much much more, selected the three best novels. He's currently designing shirts around each of them, to be sold online, with proceeds going to the Red Cross.

Well, friends, I was selected as one of the three, with:

This tee shirt is not important.

As much for my own edification as anything, I wanted to collect the Novels I wrote in one spot. And this is as good a spot as any. So here they are. And again, much love to Graffiti. And one other last note - please participate - it's fun! Weee!

 

My Favorites

Bask in brilliance. Feel the sunburn.

Intercourse, then discourse. Rinse and repeat.

This tee shirt is not clever.

Grievously popular, he was perpetually alone.

Charismatic, persuasvie, popular, motivated, proactive: Hitler.

Pulled a muscle reaching for mediocrity.

Fly high enough to fall hard.

The baby rinsed the slate clean.

Accomplishment is also best in moderation.

This clever line refers to itself.

 

Some Other Favorites

Back at home, he redefined 'home'.

Never lonely? You poor, dependent slob.

Finding no decent deli, he returned.

Life ending, he feared the descent.

When they met, metamorphosis begat transcendence.

Drowned in the tide of indifference.

Machine gun wit, an ironic demise.

A leader sans leadership begat devolution.

A hard head explodes on impact.

Valuable families value family values. Usually.

 

Other Goodies

The disease. The operation. The mistake.

A life in an office. Wasted?

That horse got me through college.

A generation without identity, living their's.

A career curve breaker died disappointed.

Out of town, he remembered happiness.

Returning home, he appreciated it fully.

Returning, he wanted someone sharing it.

Family murdered, his vengence found home.

Thunder crashed, rain fell. Still unclean.

Remembering his childhood, he shot her.

Back at home but nothing's changed.

Back at home: haven't gotten anywhere.

Back at home: never get anywhere.

In a world of bravado, contemplate.

Lonely, uncertain, he made a decision.

Life ending, he hoped to ascend.

Life ending, he regretted too much.

I imagine us co-existing in reality.

Shouldn't have travelled the familiar road.

Reflection of a life wasted fitting.

Talented but unfocused, he withered, sad.

This tee shirt won't change you.

I wish I was more clever.

Self-importance shielded him from achievement.

Lust is my least repressed sin.

His campaign ended with worn soles.

Worn soles revealed an underappreciated life.

Crushed by the weight of reality.

Smiling, she abandoned her steadfast restraint.

Morbid boredom was surely more pure.

Smoke weed. I forget the rest.

She was young. I was drunk.

Passion and intelligence were not enough.

Forty million light years travelled ... disappointed?

Ending discontentment depends on finding independence.

Six words. Enough to be clever.

 

The Remainder

The stranger followed him home yesterday.

Saw an image of her exhausted.

Empty gestures, empty love. Attention unrequited.

In town briefly, he murdered seven.

An international crime spree. Turned in.

A criminal, sold out for pennies.

One bad decision. The police chase.

She came for seven minutes. Literally.

After one minute, why fake it?

Broken in the gutter, he acquiesced.

In black leather she was ... frightening.

I dreamt of her blasian beauty.

I can see the sex as otherworldly.

The conversation would be better yet.

But who knows what's the real deal.

Two hours ain't much, scary thought.

Sadness fueled his all-encompassing passion.

Number one love since birth: breasts.

His breakthrough did certainly change lives.

Those drinks were the first mistake.

We welcome you. Well, I do.

Found 'nice' blood under rich shoes.

Found: One fast, bruised, quiet child.

Should this end with a period?

 

 

Hey, whatcha listening to right now? Just curious. Comment anonymously if you're embarassed. I'll start.

I was looking for movies to check out this week and I came across a photo for the upcoming Thuperman flick coming out next year. Look how fey!

So anyway, I started talking to a buddy of mine who's into comics about this latest "imagining" of the Caped Crusader (the "Caped Crusader" is Superman, right?). We got into a discussion of some of the older representations of The Man of Steel. The first example he showed me (I've linked the pictures to their pages if I still had the link handy):

Yes, that says - and depicts! - "Slap a Jap".

This quickly became a thread of conversation. Check this one out:

Squashing them under a steam roller wasn't sufficient, so shooting them at the same time was clearly in order. And look at their faces! It's like they're not even human!

Then there's this cover:

Yeah, he called him a "gook", right there on the cover. But finally, taking the Racist Award home:

"Yes suh, massa suh, I swings that hamma real good fo' ya, suh, please dun whup me 'gin suh" ... That may well be the most racist thing I've ever seen inked.

But lest you think it's all racist, fear not, we have pllllenty of sexual innuendo, barely veiled at that. There's this little gem, continuing to muddy a relationship long under scrutiny:

And then this on Wonder Woman:

Bennett: interesting aside about the Wonder Woman section...
Bennett: the guy who created her also create the polygraph test
Bennett: and he was massively into bondage and had a live-in mistress with him and his wife
Bennett: in the early comics she had a magic lasso that made anyone wrapped in it tell the truth but if she got entangled in it, which she ALWAYS did, she became completely helpless
Bennett: and then you would get shit like this

 

Nothing wrong with that tongue/phallus driving relentlessly toward her helpless midsection, her hands bound at the wrist. Then there's this one that's kinda ... sick:

And finally, of course, there's Archie. Just one example here for that:

Ah, harkening back to a more innocent age.

(Thanks to Bennett for pointing all this out, and to SuperDickery.com for all the images)

Quote from a CNN article on this hurricane shit:

"I'm not doing too good right now ... the water's rising pretty fast. I got a hammer and an ax and a crowbar, but I'm holding off on breaking through the roof until the last minute. Tell someone to come get me please. I want to live."

That is some dramatic shit right there.

On a related note, I don't want to ever hear any noise about living on the west coast being dumb/dangerous because of the threat of earthquakes.

The chairman of the World Anti-Doping Agency, involved in all kinds of sports doping cases, is named Dick Pound. Ferreal.

< Dick Pound