Just cranking 'em out...

Two aphorisms in one night!

Aphorism #2: People who take artistic photographs of homeless people are awful.

Aphorisms

Gawsh-darnit I'm a smart fella, so why shouldn't I start writing aphorisms just like Brillat-Savarin? Why not indeed.

Aphorism 1: People who talk about how poor they are usually aren't that poor.

Comic-Con

Had a wonderful idea for a three panel comic strip wherein a thirty-something business guy shares an apartment with an infant. Catch is, the infant's lack of a developed nervous system creates some whacky situation comedy. Oh, by the way, it's called "Dumb Baby."

Observez:

Panel 1: Guy enters apartment carrying briefcase. Dumb Baby sits in front of a humongous stack of tunafish cans.

Guy: Hey--what a day, I'm beat. Did you open those cans of tuna I asked you to open?

Panel 2: Dumb Baby sucks on the can opener and poops his diaper.

Panel 3: Guy goes to slam his bedroom door spitefully.

Guy: Oh, that's right. I forgot you don't have the motor skills necessary to operate a can opener. Dumb baby.

So there's this guy at work...

I recently came up with a great method of dealing with one's grievances towards a peer: write a sketch satirizing their worst and most noticeable qualities. Hurray satire!

It would take too long to explain all the references in this specific sketch (and there are many) not to mention my other intense dislike of libel suits, so I won't say anything beyond the man who inspired this sketch is one the saddest individuals I've ever had the pleasure to meet. Think David Brent, but with less going for him. But "More Meat" works as a stand-alone piece of weirdness.


"Bucky Toothbert in: More Meat!"

FADE IN:

INT. TOOTHBERT ESTATE - DAY.

MADAME TOOTHBERT and her husband SIR TOOTHBERT sit in their elaborately decorated parlor, half-asleep.

On a side table, a RADIO broadcast plays.

ANNOUNCER
(in German)
...To do so, combine one part butter in a warm pan with one part flour. Stir to make a roux. Add milk and nutmeg...

MADAME TOOTHBERT
(mumbling)
Hit him again, dear...carrot...

Suddenly like a burst of totally awesome fresh air, their son BUCKY TOOTHBERT flies in on a skateboard. His hair is done up in an elaborate pompadour.

BUCKY
Bucky in the house! YES! It's gettin' hot in here, so take off all your clothes!

Bucky rips off his shirt, revealing a doughy, hairy mass of middle aged flesh. He laughs maniacally apropos of nothing.

His mother awakes with a start.

MADAME TOOTHBERT
Oh, Bucky, how good to see you. Is it tea time yet?

BUCKY
I don't know what you're talkin' bout, old lady, but Bucky's starved! Whadya we got to eat around here?

Bucky begins knocking over expensive looking furniture in search of food. Sir Toothbert wakes up.

SIR TOOTHBERT
Bucky, those are lamps my dear boy. Food is kept in the pantry.

BUCKY
Oh, cool.

Bucky exits.

SIR TOOTHBERT
(to Madame)
Honestly, he's damned near forty, he should know better.

From off screen, a loud CRASH and a woman's SCREAM.

MADAME TOOTHBERT
Oh, dear.

Bucky re-enters the parlor. He now has an older black woman, TITUBA, in a fierce headlock.

BUCKY
Mommy! Look! An n-word!

Bucky laughs again as he threatens to become totally unhinged. Tituba struggles.

MADAME TOOTHBERT
Bucky! Bucky! That's Tituba!

BUCKY
A what?

SIR TOOTHBERT
Goddamnit, Bucky! That's the hired help!

BUCKY
Oh. Whatever. Slut.

Bucky throws her onto the floor. Tituba lies panting as Madame crosses over to her.

MADAME TOOTHBERT
Oh, Tituba, are you alright?

TITUBA
I--think so. He scared me so!

MADAME TOOTHBERT
I know. I know, dear.

Angered by the attention being heaped on the colored woman in his home, Bucky walks over to an heirloom armoir and begins urinating on it. His faces is awash with glee.

SIR TOOTHBERT
Bucky!

Sir produces a squirt bottle and begins spritzing Bucky. Bucky yelps and zips up.

BUCKY
(baby talk)
Sowwy, Daddy. I wuv woo. (A beat) Woo, woo! Hollah back youngin! Oh, fuck yeah, Jay-Z!

Bucky stops singing suddenly and advances on Tituba. She eyes him fearfully. He offers her his hand.

BUCKY (CONT’D)
Look, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. Do you like my hair?

TITUBA
I--uh--what?

BUCKY
No biggie. Here.

He extends his hand further. Tituba reaches for it. Bucky pulls his hand away and she falls down again. Bucky cracks up.

BUCKY (CONT’D)
Holy fucking shit! Can you believe she fell for that again? Fuckin' bitch!

Bucky laughs so hard he vomits. He grabs a fistful of candy from a nearby dish and shoves it in his mouth.

SIR TOOTHBERT
Jesus...

BUCKY
So, ma, pop, what's she do anyhow?

MADAME TOOTHBERT
Oh, you know, dear. She helps around the house, does chores, takes messages.

BUCKY
Does she like my hair?

TITUBA
I don't understand.

MADAME TOOTHBERT
(confidentially)
Ever since he started losing it, he's become very self-conscious about it. Just say yes.

TITUBA
Uh, yes. Your hair is nice.

Bucky runs a hand through it and acts casual, trying to hide his pleasure.

BUCKY
Whatever. You got any messages for me?

TITUBA
What? Oh, well, actually yes. Your boss rang. She said that you did such a good job cleaning the windows last week, she's promoting you to Key Window Cleaner.

BUCKY
It's like fuckin' Top Gun in here! Right, mommy? Hiiiiighway tooooo the DANGER ZONE!

SIR TOOTHBERT
Look, Tituba, why don't you--

Bucky side tackles his father off his recliner. His father hits his head and is knocked unconscious.

BUCKY
BUCKY WANT SING!

With effort, Bucky defecates in his pants.

MADAME TOOTHBERT
Sh, it's okay dear.

Madame crosses over to Bucky and hugs him tightly. Bucky begins kissing his mother's neck and bosom making chomping noises. Tituba looks on, horrified.

BUCKY
Numnumnum, Bucky hungry!

MADAME TOOTHBERT
Tituba, why don't you cook up some steaks, hm?

Tituba exits silently.

BUCKY
Steaks? YES!

Bucky begins violently slapping himself about the neck and face, pulling his hair.

MADAME TOOTHBERT
Oh, Bucky, I wish you wouldn't!

BUCKY
Meat! MEat! MEAT!

Tituba re-enters carrying a massive tray of grilled meats. She sets it down.

MADAME TOOTHBERT
Now, remember what you learned at etiquette class last week. Fork on the right and--

Bucky knocks his mother aside and begins attacking the steaks. Some he shoves in his mouth, others he just bites before throwing them on the floor.

MADAME TOOTHBERT (CONT’D)
Now, Bucky, save some for your father.

BUCKY
BUCKY NEEDS FIVE POUNDS OF MEAT! No! No! Mommy! No!

He pounds his fists on the steaks and continues eating. Tituba holds back tears.

Moments later, the frenzy ends just as suddenly as it began. The parlor has been turned into a mass grave of half-eaten protein.

Bucky licks his hands clean and stands.

BUCKY (CONT’D)
I'm late for Drama Class. Bucky OUT!

Bucky grabs his skateboard and skates clumsily out of the room. His lunatic shouts echo down the hallways.

Sir Toothbert comes to.

SIR TOOTHBERT
Wha--what happened?

MADAME TOOTHBERT
Oh, dear, don't move. I think he might have broken your neck this time.

TITUBA
I'll call the police.

MADAME TOOTHBERT
No! No police! Bucky's a good boy. He's a good boy. Isn't he dear?

SIR TOOTHBERT
Yes. Yes he is. The best.

FADE TO:

EXT. CITY STREET - CONTINUOUS

Bucky ineffectively skates in and out of traffic. He skates through a red light and a SCHOOL
BUS swerves to avoid him, crashing into a CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL. Flames engulf them both.

For a brief moment, Bucky gives pause, awe struck, achieving something nearing lucidity. A beat. Then:

BUCKY
AWESOME! Bucky rules!

He raises a triumphant fist and we FREEZE FRAME on this heroic image.

FADE TO:

TITLE CARD: 9/11: Never Forget. God Bless the USA.

FADE TO BLACK.

Tomato in a Box

If college kids and trailer inhabitants can drink wine from a box, why can't an Italian food conglomerate put tomatoes in a box? Well, you're in luck, because Parmalat has.

When I'm not in the mood to drive to any of the specialty stores that carry La Fede (the Italian markets in my area, the fish monger, etc.), I go for Parmalat's Pomi brand chopped tomatoes. They come in a nifty little box and look super European in the package design. Granted, I'm not in love with the chopped texture (I prefer to buy whole canned tomatoes and hand crush them), but I must admit, they make for a fine sauce.

Tomato+olive oil+sliced garlic+minced onion+minced carrot=It's neat!

Bosstown Spring

Had a lovely weekend up yonder. Highlights:

Saturday
Lunch
A nice walk to Coolidge Anna's: carnitas burrito with Jeff and Josh

Dinner
Table up front at America's greatest Indian restaurant, India Quality: Chicken tikka masala/madras, tandoori chicken, and nan (plus condiments for Turbo) with Grace, (J/K)illian, Jeff, Turbo, and Chris

Sunday
Brunch at the always fantastic Great Bay: Duxbury oysters and eggs benedict over smoked salmon, arugula, pickled red onion, and homemade English muffins

Added to all of the food and company was a new mind-teasing game wherein players attempt to punnily combine the names of famous people with parts of the human anatomy, and you've
got yourself (myself) one lolly of a weekend.

***

And now, Bruce Springsteen and Clarence Clemons in: Weekend at Bosstown, USA.

Bruce: Greg is neat! I like Greg!

Clarence: (saxophone)