Author: maggeh

Weird Dream

Jim Carrey was wearing a tweed suit and covering himself in chocolate-chip-cookie dough. He danced around on court at a basketball game, and then he scraped the cookie dough from his body, baked the cookies, and sold them for five bucks a pop. Proceeds went to the homeless.


SPEAKING OF FUNDRAISERS

If you live in San Francisco, you should go to the 826 Valencia fundraiser tonight. It’s from 6:30 p.m. to 10 p.m., $10 at the door, and the proceeds go to Dave Egger’s writing workshops for kids. Mr. Eggers himself will be there, and they’ll also be celebrating the release of McSweeney’s Issue #8. All the cool kids are going. Also, there will be chips.

Ovrheard

Scenario: Homeless man approaches woman waiting for the bus.

HM: Hi, Lorraine!

Lorraine: Hi.

HM: Think it’ll rain today, Lorraine?

L: Maybe.

HM: Maybe it’ll rain, Lorraine?

L: Maybe it will.

HM: Because it’s like “rain” from Lorraine. Then “lor” like “folklore,” like it might be true. So maybe it’ll rain, Lorraine.

L: Yep.

HM: Do you understand me?

L: Yes.

HM: Really?

L: Well, not all the time.

HM: We need cue cards like they have on I Love Lucy with Desi Arnaz.

Covet

I passed a store window in the Castro that featured a pair of socks with the slogan “I (heart) my penis” embroidered on each one. I must have them.

Down

On my way to the mailbox, I sighed and stepped over a baby bird that had fallen from his nest to the sidewalk. A few moments later, I noticed a well-dressed man walking in my direction. I could see from half a block away that he was talking to himself. We had just passed one another when I heard him mutter, “I’m still lonely.” So that was a bummer.

Pretty in Pink

Have you ever tried Pepto-Bismol? Even the name sounds like someone vomiting. Bismol. Biiiismmooooohhhhl. But when I’m about hoik up my intestines, I always think to myself, “Boy, howdy! What I could use right now is a nice little plastic cup brimming with pink, minty, viscous fluid.”

For Sentimantal Reasons

The guy on the treadmill in front of me was muscle-bound, had a shaved head, and was wearing one of those tank tops with armholes cut down to his waist. He was reading “The Big Book of Torch Songs.”

What it Takes

From the March New Yorker article, “The Riddler” about a crossword puzzle competition. I love these people:

As referees brought in completed puzzles, Rosen and the other twenty or so officials scored the answers, pausing only to ridicule the occasional hapless entry.

“Who writes ‘skua’ with a ‘q’?”

“Eriq La Salle!”

“Wasn�t he just on the over of GQ?”

“You mean GK?”