October 28th, 2005
|03:19 pm - SUCK returns to the Wigwam, touches its nappy roots|
Que pasa, bitches! Cedric in effect!--completely rested and recovered from overzealous (some would say lame) amounts of experimentation last weekend. He couldn’t help himself. He was so excited about the SUCK reunion that he forget to take his pills and found himself passed out in a garage with an unusual bounty of scabies, rabies, and d. babies. Anyway, prominent members of the SUCK were in force and shall now be listed in order of pure market value: ½ of the shady ladies, Jazzy, Highbones, the Squaw, and the Ceiling Fan (who fell on a couch and was never repaired). Cedric also located one Loose Cannon, but she ran away after he kept yelling, “Here comes da BOOM!”. Salvadore, we believe, is in jail.
The Squaw entered the night in high form what with her new Jamestowne movie coming out soon and the arrival of a hometown lover, and she literally stomped on the competition as it tried to sleep in the middle of a party. Stupid competition. She also pummeled a ceiling fan or two and instigated some villainous jokes. Sources say her market value began to plummet at the tail part of the night because of avian flu and because she went home before one.
Cedric and Highbones decided to put aside all differences—except those that make camping so much fun—and shared a tent, Cedric’s, which he had pitched for the express purpose of fur trapping, yet was obliged to share with such an old comrade and to experiment in some of what the French refer to as “le parlons du oreiller.” The strategy paid off, as when he packed up the tent the next day, he was rewarded with a good deal of change and two pieces of gum (cinnamon :( ).
As usual, there are rumors to dispel. One is that a member of the SUCK spent so many skins at the place the French call "Le Vert Feuille" that they have adopted a currency in his honor, which has been termed the “Boob-tit” (or “Fergis”). While the rate of exchange is still not exact, I feel very fortunate having spent only four or five Boob-tits this weekend. I did however lose the customary slice of self-respect (which is really what the SUCK is all about) although it is simply not true that I lost an entire day due to various experimentations. In fact, on the day in question, I didn’t sleep at all; I just had some important business to take care of down at the um.. reservoir. And where were YOU! I didn’t see you either, now did I?? As a matter of fact, I was volunteering. I was teaching handicapped children how to hunt. Isn’t that more important than playing flippy-cup on the side of the road with some rabid sorostitutes?? You don’t have to answer that. I’m sorry baby, it’s just that sometimes a man needs a little "accouplement" and all Cedric got was the SUCK. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Let’s go get it on. I stole some karaoke cd’s from the ho house. Have you ever sung “Ring of Fire” while you were on the job? We can talk about this other stuff later.
....and it burned, burned, burned....
October 14th, 2005
|11:48 pm - Toby, SII Caught on Tape!!|
Only a week after reporting the breakup between Toby the Experimental Fur Peddler and live-in lovemate the Science of Information Irene, the two were seen--caught that is, on video--canoodling at a park near Dupont Circle Sunday. The video, recorded by an alert reader with nothing more than a camera phone/camcorder/mp3player/static deionizer/tazer reveals Toby and the SIIrene looking very much like the couple of old,lounging by a fountain, fingers entwined, while local weirdos played chess in the background and watched tourists eat their Subway sandwiches and took discrete pictures with their phones and, well, one particularly disturbing gentelman dressed all in blue galvanted around the park, twirling a large neon flag to the urgings of distorted House music. It is rumored, in fact, that the FBI has requested a copy of the video. Upon questioning, the FBI claimed no knowledge of any Toby EFP or SIIrene and gave yours truly an immediate drug test but did mention that quite a few "wanted" individuals had made some cameos. Illegal stuff! As far as I am concerned, Toby should be locked up too. Sure the law says there's nothing against sliding backwards into a damnable relationship, but I'd still like to beat some sense into him with a billy club. Then I'd beat up that flag guy. Eeesh. Ah well. Who saw it coming? Of course you did, and that's why you get this stuff for free. Next week I'll tell you something you didn't know, and you can pay me for it. No comments as yet from the Experimental Fur Peddling estate or any other members of the wigwam community. In times like these, one can only shake one's head, cry "Freeeeedom," and utilize other movie quotes in a fratty way to reassert authority. So hot right now. So hot. It is the root of all stability and progress. It is America. Fuck yeah!
October 2nd, 2005
|02:34 pm - End of the Affair|
Representatives of IS Love’s Cedric the EFP recently announced that Cedric’s brother Toby has finally terminated his well-documented, long, and many say abusive relationship with the Science of Information Irene. Brad Landou, a spokesman for the family, says that Toby grew tired of all the sleepless nights waiting for the SIIrene to come home and of the many, many beatings. Despite the constant beatings, Toby, like many in abusive relationships, remained loyal for years believing that things might change overnight and all his hard work might be salvaged. Meanwhile, the beatings continued and communication became almost nonexistent. The SIIrene was distant but still bitterly jealous and caused a great deal of trouble over Toby’s casual friendship with the Ceiling Friend, who has been a friend of the family for years. Finally, last week Toby discovered that the Science of Information Irene has been cheating on him with M. I. Me—a no-good techno-geek and old nemesis of Toby. That was just it, says Landou. Toby has packed his bags and moved back to the wigwam, where he hopes to reestablish his roots and spend some quality time with Cedric and mom and pop EFP. Adds Landou, “Toby still feels a little guilty knowing that the SIIrene is old and doddering—well past her prime—but all of us at the wigwam community are on his side. She had it coming.” The Science of Information Irene was not available for comment.
|02:33 pm - Reality Heaven|
A story straight from the bowels of George Carlin. God rest his soul.
Reality TV fans across the nation say they are no longer rabidly excited about Tuesday’s much-anticipated season finale of the CBS hit show Paradise Paradise because several bloggers have already spilled the beans and ruined the fun. In case you’re not familiar with the show, Peter Jennings interviews the recently deceased as they make their way through the Pearly Gates. Viewers then select participants to split into teams and compete in various trivia games and physical challenges. The winning team gets to choose someone that his been damned for all eternity and present that person with an all access pass to Paradise [Paradise]. Apparently, according to blogger ChewMee, the season ends with the First Methodist Holy Singers team—all of whom died in a tragic bus accident—defeating the red team in sudden death overtime. The Singers then convene silently and dramatically through three commercial breaks before team captain Phil Myerton reveals to Jennings that the team has selected their former pastor, Ken Holman, who has spent the last three years in a flaming bazaar of excruciating torment because, ironically enough, he was an atheist. Tears are shared by all as Holman, sporting some very singed and tattered vestments is reunited not only with the Holy Singers but with a quite large assemblage of First Methodist heaven-dwellers. The climax of the evening comes when Myerton presents the access card to a surprisingly somber Holman and wishes him a “very blessed year.” Despite the lack of surprise remaining in the event, it still promises to be great television. The show will air Tuesday at 9.
- IS Revue
|02:31 pm - Employee of the Month|
September’s IS Revue employee of the month is Chris White. Chris joined the IS Revue a little over six months ago as a technical editor, and he has just been tearing things up. Talk about zing, zest, pinache, go-gettum spirit, Chris has brought his own personal style of teamwork and fair play into the mix. During college, Chris spent four and a half years as the unofficial tech editor for the Rutgers Student Space Council, and says he developed a lot of ideas during that time. Says Chris, “I just knew, even then, that if I started lying about my extracurricular activities, that it would really help me out some day. Even my roommates thought I was the captain of the swim team. Damn, I’m good.” Chris has contributed so much to the lively atmosphere of the IS Revue. At first, many of us managers didn’t understand his style. He would often leave words uncapitalized and sometimes even spelled long numbers out, significant figures and all (even zeroes!). We thought maybe he was having a hard time adjusting or that he was just “expressing himself,” but we just didn’t know if we could keep dealing with such adversity, even though the job description did mention that we were looking for a “rule-breaker.” Well, we were just about to set him down and have a long talk when one of our many unpaid interns came in and told his she’d figured out “the code.” Turns out, Chris was just having a bit of fun with us after all, and once you knew his style, he was really very precise, but in a fun, I-don’t-care kind of way. The capitalization problem, for example. He only left R’s uncapitalized at the beginning of odd paragraphs. Likewise, he only spelled out the fiftieth number in a report. Once we understood him, everyone really came to love these little quirks, and it’s not a problem at all for one of the interns to go through and edit his documents when they’re done. If I had to pick just one lesson that Chris has taught us, it would be that some really smart people are able to think so far outside of the box that they end up back in the box, and I think that’s really the best way to do things. If only more young people out there could be like that, we wouldn’t have to keep using all these interns. Way to go Chris! Happy October everyone.
Assistant Vice President of Human
Resource Motivational Directives and Reports
|02:29 pm - Nihilists Unite!|
My name is Melvina King. I just love your little live journal stories and thought I would share one of my own that just recently happened. I find it very inspiring and hope you do too! The other day I ran up to the store to pick up some cucumbers and Tabasco sauce for the annual bonfire, and as I passed along the back of the store by the fresh seafood section, I noticed they had some fresh oysters. Boy, that took me all the way back to when I was a little girl growing up by the Bay in Delaware. Those were wonderful times and I bet it’s been thirty years since I had some good oysters. Then as I’m heading through the parking lot, I run into my old friend Sue, who I haven’t seen in quite a while, and what do you know; she was loading a bag of oysters into the back of her car! Well that just did it for me. Was God really sending me a little message to bring oysters back into my life?
Well, when I told Frank about it, he said the whole story just made him hungry, so we decided we’d go out to the local seafood restaurant on Saturday. That was Wednesday. For the next three days, all I could think about was oysters and it just gave me this warm sort of feeling, like home, you know? Come Saturday we went out with our neighbors to the seafood restaurant, The SaskaToona. It was a lovely night, and I could just tell there was something special in the air. We had a very nice waiter, and when he mentioned the specials for the evening, I just looked at Frank and gave him a little grin. Oysters Rockefeller! Splendid. That was one of my father’s favorite dishes. We had to try it, the neighbors too, b/c I had been talking about it so much, and it was superb. Just like I remembered. Frank had never had oysters before, being a cornbread country boy and all, but he fell in love with them immediately. I knew oysters were back in my life, and I thanked God.
Just to tempt fate and prove the validity of His wisdom, a week later, Frank and I thought we would stop by the only other seafood joint in town, The Fin’s Inn, for a little bite before dinner. Once again the special of the evening, oysters on the half-shell. They were to die for, and I was sold. At a difficult stage in my life, God helped put me back on my feet by returning something I once loved so much. Oysters. See, there really is hope out there. You just have to keep your wits (and your appetite!) about you. God bless you all.
September 17th, 2005
|07:52 pm - You thought I was gone.....but I'm back!!!|
Weeeeeelll now children,
It's time once again to gather around the flatulent ole crackalatin campfire that is the 105 LiveJournal and warm our bitterly cold and desolate extremities to the heartwarming, hot-breathed tales of your favorite conquistador--Cedric the Experimental Fur Peddlar. Truly, truly, now that the dust has settled a little from the rash stampede out of our former Swamptown home, I think it's time for me to reflect and offer up some of the slickest, rarest, and most pelt-tastic tales of the early season.
To begin, I offer a tale of real zest, trainness, and nugentry. Shortly after the close of hurricane season, I convened with the usual group of traders, looters, scalliwags, and toolbags--the Southern Uprise Council and Krewe--on the matter of purchasing some stationary for official business. Seems things have changed quite a bit, and fast! Highbones the Pirate pulled a majorly surprising about-face, showing up for a meeting of the SUCK, of all things, wearing a space-age prep suit. Even had a collared shirt and slacks for Jazzy! That is just disgraceful, folks. Apparently Highbones, not satisfied with the free-wheeling life of a true pirate, decided to stake out a steadier life peddling, of all things, peltless cuts of pricey bif. What, Captain D's wasn't hiring? Well, at least her hook comes off, and she can screw in a large tray. Unfortunately, she doesn't know how to walk right and is often high on seaweed. Look out diners.
So she's out. Fair enough. Ever since the Salvador thing, she had been placed on dingleberry status. If you don't know, ask somebody. What I didn't expect was that 1/2 of the Shady Ladies would do the same. You just can't be a Shady Lady AND work at a place called the Spaghetti Factory. Three balloons for you and you're out! What's that? You too, Dickle? Shit. I'm off to New York.
So I head up to the big city to be around people who still appreciate fucking other people up and taking their skins. That leads me of course to the residence of everybody's favorite Ceiling Fan and one Smoking Gun. Rumor has it that Cedric himself was on some not-very-Shady-business. Well, you say that shit to me and I marinade your eyeball in a spicy vinegrette with a side of acid. and spit. nuuuuge. the truth is that i was there to size up Kofi's scalp for a bigtime deal. How did it go? You don't have enough money to hold my cards. Now you want my chips too?! Damn, I like your style, so I'll tell you more.
The Ceiling Fan told me about a big score with some very low-priced, fashionable skins. Was he right? I've seen some trashcans filled with gold before, but this wasn't it! Imagine your mother was anorexic and a HUGE slut and she insisted on dancing for your friends while you try to watch the game. That's what I'm talking about. Some deals I'm prepared to lose money on.
The next night showed me a little more of the goods. CF made an interesting delivery of one J fur. Quaint, seasonal. A real go-getter. CF vowed to eat more live pasta. CF also revealed that he is, in fact, an Animated Pornography Fan. So now you know. This particular venture made me regret some of my past peddlings in this area, as I see they still have not recovered. And yes, EntropicP, there is a river. What, am I being exclusive? Well nickname your own damn nugent and take a suck!
The Smoking Gun spent a good deal of time being or doing both and very nearly stumbled upon a sixteen story enlightenment. I have never seen such a thing, but I dream of selling it. CF and Cedric also spent a good deal of time engaging their new friend, the Google-Monster. If you don't know, you better ask somebody. then go work in a restaurant, you windless sack of skidmarks.
Certainly, the highlight of my trip was running into Dean--my own personal Sasquatch--near Washington Square. This is getting eerie. One of these days, I'm going to stop and ask him what matter of great cosmological importance he has to relate to me, so we can get on with our lives. I have a feeling it's going to sound something like, "Yo, hey, I'm Dean." Then maybe I'll finally combust. Just like that. One minute you're eating some street-meats, carrying a satchel; the next, you're an ashy skidmark on the windows of Duane Reade. All because of some cosmological intelligence and good old WM networking.
Alright.....more on this later. I got to go CAPITALIZE!!!
September 10th, 2005
|12:19 am - Cedric has Squatted|
...in a new land. He has remained vigilant and arisen earlier. He took upon a silver horse to the land of cooler air and taller houses.
Strang things have occured since the last of the IS LOVE community gathering. The squaw continues to pillage, the Shady Ladies are scattering, The Ceiling Fan has migrated to higher ceilings, and The Squaw's gummy bear lover is melting under a warm windshield.
The Pirate has been commandeered by tie-pushing posh-tushers.
The orb of rather nugenty stickiness has disintegrated into isolated cystalline bits.
Oh the horror.
July 31st, 2004
|12:19 am - muy muy (caliente)|
Inside sources have confirmed recently that one Highbones the Pirate has been seen on several occasions with a man known only as Salvador. Salvador is considered by some to be the most dangerous and unscrupulous ruffian in the underground liquor world, surpassing even that bastard--"Old Grandad." Everyone knows that Highbones likes to run with a fast crowd, but this time she may have gone too far. There are rumors that Tyrece, her most recent beau, is in town looking for answers. Things could get nasty here in sleepy, voyeuristic W'burg. It is fair to say that things are taking a turn for the worst for Salvador as sales have been down in the last quarter, and his wife recently moved out. It is rumored that she is donating ALL of the family furs to one Cedric, Peddlar Extraordinaire, an invaluable collection, which includes the pelt of her seventeen year-old daughter. When reached for comment, Cedric only said, "I'm rich Biotch!!"
As for the legitimacy of this entry--hey, an entry is an entry, so take a suck!
Survey of the day: Who would produce a sexier love-child: Jon Stewart + Larry King
Jon Stewart + Tim Russert
Ceiling Fan + Jerry Falwell??
July 28th, 2004
|04:39 pm - Loose Cannon, Loosed Herself all the way to Spain|
With drunken fanfare, the seaboards of this rickety pirate ship called life have been jilted and tilted by the winds of fate and the waves of change, only to have one untethered, dare I say, Loose, Cannon, fall precipitously from the deck of HighBone's Jazzy WaveRider.
Cedric, in an uncontrollable grief event, has locked himself away with his furs. We have not heard from him in quite a furlong. The Squaw, after considerable progress in the unheathenizing process, has gone back to her barbaric ways of wearing moccasins and sexing any poor W&M Indian she casts her eyes upon. Such a mutiny spells unrest for HighBones. Personally, the Ceiling Fan still harbors a strange sense of unease that the One Legged IPOD may be the next to hop away from this reality series called 105 IS LOVE.
Together we grieve this momentous loss. The Cannon of inspiration however, seems unphased. She has left to a far off land, to beyond where the Sun rises.
Cannon, we hail you. Now for the 21 PBR salute. A drink to new beginnings...and celebrating older ones.
"This melancholy moment brough to you by Budweiser. True."
PS - Time to gain an effective breeding posture.