Thoughts are free flowing and for a writer ideas can come and go in an instant. I may be watching television, driving my car, taking a walk, sorting through my booger collection, or snorting Coke-I love the way the bubbles feel!- when a funny thought will hit me. As soon as possible, I capture that thought in a Word document. Sometimes I start banging at the keyboard and come away with a great paragraph or two and it immediately turns into an article. Other times it just sits there-my brain has run dry. I can’t find a direction in which to take it and I realize I don’t have enough to run with. It’s just one thought-one funny little tidbit-but I love it and so I hang onto it hoping I can go back at some point and turn it into something. Some of those ideas just die and end up in what I call my “writer’s morgue.”
But the morgue never closes and like Dr. Frankenstein, I’m always sorting through the dead tissue to see if I can create a monster.
Here’s a fairly fresh one-just barely off life-support:
Recently the existence of God was challenged by Stephen Hawking-that dude in the wheel chair whose voice sounds like it’s coming from a damaged speaker at the Wendy’s drive-up menu-when he declared, “When it comes to creation of the universe, we don’t need no stinkin’ God. That’ll be $15.43. Please drive up to the first window.”
When I heard that, I exclaimed, “Can you supersize that for me please?!”
I love that little blurb. Sure, making fun of a guy suffering from ALS is tasteless, but if taste is what you’re looking for, you made a wrong turn when you decided to take a drive up my alley. I still think it’s a funny little piece of nonsense, but after I came up with it, I had no idea how to turn it into an article. Now Hawking’s declaration is already old news and so the sheet has been pulled up over its head and it now lays dormant in my morgue.
Here are a few other dead body parts from the morgue…
It appears that at some point I intended to do a piece on Hanukkah-perhaps as part of my highly acclaimed “What is it and Where Did it Come From?” series. Anyway, here’s one from the morgue that until now has never seen the light of day:
Hanukkah is a Hebrew word meaning “Candles? We light stinkin’ candles? Why can’t we have a Christmas tree with presents like all my Christian friends have? This sucks! And a dreidel? I’m supposed to be thrilled you gave me a stupid dreidel? It’s a friggin’ top! How about a goddamn Wii?”
One of the suggestions at the AC assignment desk last spring was an article on how to make a prom cake. Desperate for something to write about, I thought I’d give it a shot, but it wasn’t long before I realized I had exhausted all of my prom cake knowledge. Nevertheless, I hung onto this little two-sentence blurb and sent its lifeless body off to the morgue:
I don’t know squat about making a prom cake-I didn’t even know there was such a thing. Prom is all about getting drunk and having sex. Forget the cake and pass the condoms.
I don’t know who inspired this next corpse, but apparently he is bald.
There is nothing attractive about looking like a giant circumcised penis. Get a rug or wear a hat, or better yet, don’t appear in public…EVER!
Looks like I was prepared to go on a People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals rant, but I apparently lost steam. Here are a couple jabs at PETA that died at the scene:
PETA is known for making official statements that are nothing short of loony, but I’ve given them a pass for a long time mainly because I love any advertising campaign that includes hot, naked, female celebrities. I despise the NRA but if they had an ad with Megan Fox wearing nothing but an AK47, I’d be purchasing firearms the next morning and bowing to the shrine of Charlton Heston. Yes, I have my convictions, but they easily crumble when naked chicks are involved.
PETA endorses the spaying and neutering of pets. What’s so ethical about that? Tell you what PETA, Let’s whack your balls off and see how ethical you think that is.
Here’s one from a failed Tiger Woods piece that went past its expiration date and had to be euthanized:
Mindy Lawton, a pancake house waitress, claims to have been plowed by Tiger in every room-except the master bedroom-of the Woods’ house. Good to know Tiger has his standards, because nothing says, “I love you, Honey!” like not banging another chick in the same bed you share with your wife. Hey, I love flapjacks as much as the next guy, but my god Tiger, Aunt Jemima is hotter than this chick.
Finally, I give you a couple of one-liners that were DOA. May they rest in peace…
One good thing about messed up celebrities like Lindsay Lohan is that many of them die young.
Madonna just announced plans for her upcoming “Like an Old, Dried-Up Bitch Tour.”