From Another Dimension, Ch. 8; Skinny Knees, Ch. 5

The Constantins are a bunch of sleaze balls.   I was able to intercept one of their operational manuals for seducing earthlings.  You would be amazed at the stuff they try.   I can see this crap working with the TeoCohens of Goatar XI, because those creatures are desperate.  But can you imaging anyone actually falling for this?  Look:

Operational Manual for Seducing Earthlings:  Part XII  (Text Messaging)

"To fully comprehend this situation, you have to understand what you’re up against. Earthlings nowadays give out their phone numbers away like candy. There are multiple reasons for this. For one, it’s the path of least resistance. Think about it: the quickest way to get a guy or a women off your case is to give him or her your number, comfortably extricate yourself from the situation, and then just ignore them. Earthlings avoid confrontation and awkwardness at all costs. But that only explains a situation where they don’t like the entity.   What about when he or she showed clear signs of attraction?  This is where you must take advantage of the situation."

 "Twenty first century Earth is filled with endless distractions. The deadly combination of Facebook, ever-shrinking attention-spans, and the inherent nature of Earthlings conspire to create a situation where you will not be able to achieve your objectives.  What’s more, Earthlings are forgetful. She could have fantasized about being impregnated by you the night she met you, but within an hour she forgot about that because she got a text from some other guy. This is a double-edged sword that can work to your advantage as much as it can hurt you, as we shall see."

"So what do you do when an Earthling doesn’t reply to your text?Well first, let’s cover what you shouldn’t do. First off, resist the temptation of chasing down your text with a follow-up because you think, “they obviously didn’t get it.” They got it.  The Earthling is glued to their phone 24/7, and they are reading and replying to texts constantly. The odds that the ether swallowed up your text before it got to their iPhone 5 is infinitesimal. Get that out of your head. Secondly, don’t go to the other extreme and do what a lot of experienced Constantins mistakenly do: immediately delete their number and write them off. Remember: effectively texting Earthlings requires a Provencia-like patience that is counter-intuitive to our hunting nature. Just chill."

"A certain percentage of the time just forgetting about your text is enough. Earthlings can reply, literally, days later. But a lot of the time that doesn’t happen. That’s where the re-start text comes in.  The restart text is basically simple text volley that aims at resurrecting a conversation that’s gone cold. It can work at any stage in your interaction with an Earthling: when all you have is the phone number; when you’ve gone out once but did not achieve impregnation, etc.  The important precursor is that you fully allow the conversation to actually go cold.  It is recommended that a  restart text is not sent sooner than 10 days after the last communication. The goal of the restart text is to re-spark the intrigue the Earthling presumably felt for you at some point. That’s all. This is where the Earthling's forgetfulness works to your advantage. By the time you come around a second time, the Earthling has likely forgotten about some stupid thing you said that made them stop contacting you in the first place. Often it’s just as simple as catching an Earthling when they are more amenable to impregnation.  

-- The Two Different Types of Restart Texts

The restart text is an art that you have to customize to your own style and to each situation, but these are some basic techniques to get you started. Create your own text following these approaches:

1. The Mistaken Identity. This is probably the oldest, and most transparent, approach. Earthlings, especially the smarter ones, can sometimes see right through this one—even though that doesn’t mean it won’t work. After all, it’s all about cognitive dissonance. The important part is to make it clear that it wasn’t intended for them. It’s also nice to embed some juicy bait that the Earthling cannot resist.

Example: “sorry I’m running late, homie. got into argument with andy’s ugly sister. u were right about her!”

2. The Non Sequitur. This is basically a random, brief particle that will sufficiently stir an Earthling's nosy instinct into inquiring further. Don’t make it creepy or gratuitously weird. The key is to wedge yourself into that nosy part of an Earthling's brain that makes eavesdropping, celebrity gossip, and “mysterious” Constantin in the room irresistible to them.

Example: “it was $20.”

If the Earthling responds, you should follow that up with something like “oops, wrong person.”, adding a juicy tid-bit to have her respond a second time, like “wait, who’s this?” Once you re-activate the conversation, don’t make the mistake of bringing up your prior interaction or immediately revealing your identity or intentions (to plan a date). Also, don’t text endlessly with the Earthling. Dangle the carrot for a while—leaving gaps of different lengths between texts—get them interested, and plan to “meet up.” Keep it simple.

A lot of the time, the restart text won’t work. But it should definitely be part of your arsenal. You’ll be delightfully surprised when you re-capture a seemingly lost prospect with this simple, nearly effortless, technique.

The girl and the goat.  Teo trumps the trojan on the goose island stout.  The psudeo pumpkin becomes ill after a short leg of jake.  The new office turns things around.  The routine is changed.  What must be done?

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The Music Lover, Ch. 15

So I arrived at my office and was surprised to see Umphrey's McGee waiting for me.  They asked if they could hang out with me for awhile because they had a concert upstairs later in the evening.  I didn't mind.  It was actually pretty cool.   But I wondered how they found my office.   We just moved to a new location last week.  I remember giving them my card the last time I saw them--but that was for a different address.

So I started taking pictures of Umphrey's McGee in my office and then posting them on Facebook.   It was so cool.  Everyone dug the photos.   It was like "hey everybody, look I'm with Umphrey's McGee and isn't it neat they are in my office?"  I thought of asking them to take some pictures of me with some of the band members, but I decided not to because I didn't want to appear like I was that big of a fan.

So for the next several hours I was hanging out with Umphrey's Mcgee.   We went into my garage and they were playing around with feedback from their guitars.   I thought the feedback kinda sounded like the feedback in the Gang of Four song called "Anthrax."  You know the one with the bass line that goes like " Ba ba ba ba bum ba ba ba ba."    So I started humming "Ba ba ba ba bum ba ba ba ba."  And Umphrey's McGee said, "hey what's that, it sounds pretty bitching."  And I said, "Siri, play some Gang of Four, Anthrax.   And she did.  And the Umphrey's people started jamming to it.  And they said, "wow, that's cool, we'll have to play it tonight.   So they did.

And that is the story of how Umphrey's McGee played a cover of a Gang of Four song at one of their concerts.

You would have thought that was the end of the story.  But it wasn't.  After the concert one of the Umphrey's dudes kept hinting that they didn't have a place to crash because their tour bus broke down or their toilet was broken or something like that.  So I let them stay with me, which was fine.  However, I found out later that they drank all the Ketel One Vodka that I had stored in my freezer.   But they are rock stars so I guess that they were entitled to it.   I never hassled them about it.

But twenty years later, on July 10, 2011, I was in bar and I remembered that those Umphey's McGee guys drank all my vodka that long time ago.     And on that day, I started writing a blog about it.  It was called Tatoo You, Ch. 1:-).

(in tubac, on the plane, with the irish ranked number one for the first time in ages)

Some of the President's Men, Ch. 1

I was watching a basketball game on the sidelines.

President Obama, wearing sunglasses and wind breaker appeared in front of me and asked me to come with him.

I replied, "Yes sir, Mr. President."   I hesitated slightly because I was unsure of how to address the President.

I followed him down the stairs at the side of the court.   We passed a number of security checkpoints and he finally entered a room with a metal door.   He asked me to wait outside.   I could see the inside of the room contained two obese african american security guards who were motioning me to stay outside.

I thought it was good that the President was guarded by two black man as if that would ensure their loyalty to him.

After a time, President Obama reappeared.

"There is a situation developing in Mexico," he told me.   He was speaking softly, so I wasn't sure exactly what he said, but I didn't want to ask him to repeat.   What I understood is that someone had tried to either fly a plane or drive a truck loaded with explosives into a Chrysler plant in Mexico.  The plot failed because the plane or truck exploded before it reached its destination.  Because of the attack, the factory was going to close.

President Obama looked at me as if he was expecting me to add something to the situation.  I thought of saying something about how the closing of the factory could be spun into a situation where it meant more jobs for American workers and how the President could take advantage of that.  But instead, I blurted out:  "They are next going to attack ExxonMobil's Beaumont refinery."

"How do they intend to accomplish that?" the President asked.

"They have hijacked the tanker  Dominguez which is currently inbound and will reach the port at 0930 tommorrow.   The tanker is crewed by 17 Mujahadeen mercenaries led by Gulbuddin Hekmatyar.  They possess three W-88 chinese nuclear warheads."

"Thank you," the President said, motioning to one of his guards.   "We will take care of that."

The President looked at me as if he was expecting me to say something more.   Finally, he smiled.   "Don't worry, I know this must be a little disconcerting for you, but it looks like we have a new receiver for the Venentian signals."   He smiled at me broadly.

I had no idea what he was talking about.

Bolshoi milliki.

Friend of the Devil, Ch. 7

Satan carefully placed the Scorpion on my thumb so that its stinger was directly above my thumbnail.

I held my breath and tried desparately not to move.   Each time I shifted my weight or made any movement, the scorpion's legs dug into me like pins.

The scorpion kept trying to sting me,  but each time its stinger reflected off my thumbnail.

I knew it was just a matter of time before I had to move.   When I did, I knew the scorpion would crawl down my hand freeing its stinger to find unprotected flesh.

I noticed there was a small chip in my front incisor.  I kept working the rough edge of the chip with my tongue.  Eventually what I thought was only a small crack expanded and the whole front section of my teeth separated from my gums.

I looked at myself in the mirror and was greeted by a hideous toothless hairless wrinkled face.   I tried to speak but could not make a sound through my gums.

I was in the office of a dentist.   This was the same dentist my parents had avoided selecting for my bridge work when I was a teenager.

The dentist remarked that he had never seen a case like mine, but he had talked to one of his colleagues and was willing to try to reattach my teeth.  I knew that I should try to leave.  This guy did not know what he was doing.  But I was already strapped into the chair.

The dentist placed the plaster in my teeth to make the mold, and I almost wretched.  It was like eating plaster.  His hygenist kept packing gauze in my mouth.   I couldn't breath.   I began to suffocate.

One of Brigham Young's wives, Ch. 1

Editors Note:   Brigham Young was perhaps the most famous polygamist of the early Latter Day Saint movement, marrying a total of 55 wives.  By the time of his death, Young had 57 children by 16 of his wives.

The following diary allegedly written by Brigham Young's wife number 23 was recently discovered in an abandoned mine shaft near Park City, Utah.  Any similarities here with actual historical characters or events is highly unlikely.  In fact, what follows is completely made up and there is not a word of truth to anything that follows.  Even though this is alleged to be a diary from one of Brigham Young's wives, I can assure you that it is not such a diary.  It is most assuredly a hoax.   The premise that is is an actual diary of one of Brigham Young's wives or that it was found in an abandoned mine shaft is simply untrue.

Day 1:  We are now in Utah, but I don't see much change in the face of the land for the better; but I can't see much, as I have been quite sick for six or seven days.  I pray that the Lord has blessed me after my last congregation with Brig eight fortnights ago.   Crossed Green River Sunday evening with the help of Brother Edwards and Mendenhall, it is a beautiful stream of water, and plenty of trees on its banks.  Stopped at a station where our men were required to take the oath of allegiance to the United States government, our wagons were searched for gun powder, etc.

Day 2:  A stage passed with two of our missionaries, Brother Detmer and one of the Brigham Young Jrs..  Me hast difficulty distinguishing one from the next.  Arrived at Fort Bridger, a nice place, with a good and substantial building.  The days are warm, the nights cold.  Very cold.  Colder than...prehayps me better not sayeth it.    Last evening we bought some onions and potatoes, which were quite a treat. They did us good, as we were getting the canker bad, from so long a diet of salt pork, but I trust our journey is nearly over. The earth at this place is of a reddish color, and the mountains look somewhat greener than they have for some time.

Day 3:  Passed through some mountains in a round about way, they look solemn in their grandeur; rising one above another, and their verdure of many colored hues and rocks of various shades looked beautiful to me; if I had the materials I should paint some of them.  Nothing better to do, unless providence intervene.  

Day 4:   Passed through Echo Canyon. The scenery is beautiful to behold, such rocks I never saw. Saw a few houses and potato patches, also a mail station which looks comfortable. I think from the appearance of things, Uncle McMahon feeds his men and animals pretty well. I feel weak today, prehaps the sickness of the morning is upon me.    Camped near the town of Weber. Came over a narrow road on the side of a mountain. It looked dangerous. Came to W. Ainge's Ranch, he is rich in cattle and sheep.

Day 5:   Rained last night for the first time since we left the Platte River. I hope it has laid the dust. I think it is the fourth rain we have had on our journey so far. Camped at a station in dust enough to smother one.

Day 6:  Arrived in Salt Lake City on Emigration Square.  My heart was saddened with the death of my aunt Mary.   She was the parent of ten children.   Her husband with glorious blessings sired another 38 with other wives.  Surely blessed.  (the rest of this page of the diary is not legible).

Leave it to a Beaver, Ch. 2

Scene 4:  Back in the kitchen at 485 Maple Drive.  (Note: insert teleprompter under all actors speaking to the Beaver to ensure audience can read the subtext of what the actors are saying to Beaver).

Beaver:  Gee Wally, ever since Florence touched my forehead, everything seems so different.   I mean I can still hear people talk, but I can also now see words underneath what they are saying.   Like on a television screen.   And most of the words I don't understand, but those that I do really frighten me.  Its like they are telling me one thing, but the words underneath tell me they really mean something else.

Wally:   I told you that girls are nothing but trouble.  But in a couple of years, you'll go to high school, and then you'll go to college and meet a whole bunch of girls. You'll probably marry one. Then you'll have a whole bunch of kids and a job and everything.

Wally (subtext):  What a dumbass I have for a brother.  Why do I have to always hang around him anyway?  As soon as my mother and father go in the bedroom to get it on, I'm going over to Violet Rutherford's house.  Maybe she'll put out if I can get some weed.   I wonder if Eddy was able to score that quarter he talked about last week? 

Ward:  Listen to your brother son.  Its true that you might not think much of girls now, but eventually you will marry one. 

Ward (subtext):   I wonder if Florence is as hot as her mother?   Martha was freaking awesome in the sack.   Why I ever ended up with  June instead of her sister is beyond me.   I'm a fucking idiot.

June:   Ward, what is Florence doing to our baby? … She's got him following her around. She's just not the right type for him.  Theodore should have a very sensible girl from a nice family. One with both feet on the ground that can cook and keep a nice house and see that he's happy.

June (subtext):  My sister Martha is a total slut!  And I'm sure that her adopted daughter Florence is no different.  Still, had she been able to steal Ward away from me like she planned, I might not have minded.  Maybe I never really did give Pedro a decent shot. 


Commercial Break

(the queen gets black, i get a gay inlaw, hayley gets a girlfriend, sandy gets new york, brigham gets 20 wives, and the polish guy gets ukranian)

Friend of the Devil, Ch. 6

I was back at work at a different job.

It was in a small room in a trailer.  There were only two outside windows: one in the front and the other in the rear of the trailer.   The trailer also had a basement.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do.   I was with two other older women who seemed to be waiting for something.  They were sitting on a couch looking out the front window of the trailer.   It was dark outside and nothing was visible. 

I went to the kitchen to get something to drink.  When I returned the women were still seated but outside was glowing with light.   In the distance, I could see a mushroom cloud from the explosion of an atom bomb.

I was not concerned.   It was part of my job to watch the blast.   On second glance the blast looked even nearer than it first appeared.   I could see the streaming purple tendrils from the underside of the cloud reach the ground and spark.

I went downstairs.   Satan was sleeping with a pregnant women on the bed.   I knew she was awake.   I could see by the stain on the bed that her water had broke.   Her face grimaced in pain. 

I wanted to get her to a hospital but she refused.   In a whispered hush she told me that she did not want to move because she did not want to wake up Satan.  She told me to leave. 

In the rear window of the basement, I saw another mushroom cloud in the distance.   This one was dark red.

Back upstairs, the horizon from the front window lit up with atomic bomb flashes like electric flowers.   I went the window at the back of the trailer and there were dozens of bomb flashes.  I knew we were the only people who survived the blasts.  It was peaceful and quiet.