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Thursday, December 12th, 2002
10:32 am - punch lines with no jokes
This is a curious concept. This little gimmick is used all the time in TV shows and movies and such, where we the audience butt into a conversation midway where one character is telling a joke to another, so we as the eavesdropper only hear the punchline and not the whole joke. The deal is, there is no real joke! There's only the punchline. Sometimes they'll use a punchline to a common joke everyone's already heard, but a lot of the time there is no joke for the oprhan punch line. It's clever, in that it makes you think there's a real joke, but there's not! Haha, jokes on you! Ok, not really; everybody of at least nominal intelligence realizes its a screen writers gag, and there isn't a real joke (let alone a real conversation going on.) Now, the punchline that comes to mind the quickest is one that's been used thousands of times in many different forms of media. I am of course referring to:

"Rectum?! Damn near killed him!"

This right here is a classic line; one that's ingrained itself into our collective subconscious. It's beautiful in its simplicity. The homonym, play-on-words gag, the reference to naughty bits and violence. Fucking brilliant. That's the beauty of this line: it doesnt need the rest of the joke. I'm wondering if there ever was a lead-up created for this line. It's been around a long time, and been used in countless movies and shows, so somewhere along the line, somebody musta filled in the rest of the joke, right? Right?

By typing it, I also realize that the joke doesn't work as well in a written format, because you actually have to spell out rectum as opposed to hearing "wrecked'im". But it still can be used in a comic or a novel as a self-referencing pop culture funny line. This one is definitely going in whatever work I have published along with the likes of "What's the frequency, Kenneth?" and "All your base are belong to us."

I'm such a nerd.

Anyway, can anybody think of any other punch-lines without jokes? Or whether there was ever a joke written for the "rectum" line? Or instances of where they heard the "rectum" line (man, i love typing rectum.)

Ok, its not like anybody actually reads this...I'll stop now.

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Thursday, October 10th, 2002
9:30 pm - Drawrings...
I just got back from a life drawing session at my girlfriend's college. Man, its been awhile since i drew some naked folk. I'm glad I finally went. I'd been talking about finding a figure drawing session for months. I tend to be good at that: talk about what I'm going to do and then not do anything. But gawd dammit i went down to that there university and pulled out my sketchbook and got to work. They made me cough up a check for $50 for the quarter cuz I'm not a student; which is good in a way because it's going to encourage me to go each week because I'm already paid up.

It was kinda awkward being in an art room after such a long hiatus from real life-drawing with a bunch of people I've never met, including someone who was about to disrobe in a couple of minutes (the small toke i took from my noseburner on the way there to "loosen" up didnt help the weirdness level.) But when the timer started and she posed for the first couple gestures it was like I was back in the saddle again, my right brain all abuzz with drawing coolness. I was rusty, but not as rusty as I thought I was gonna be (maybe I'll scan some of the sketches I did tomorrow.)

Before I went, I was all obsessive about making sure my cellphone was turned to silent cuz i didnt want to be that dumb-ass who interrupts everybody's concentration when their little gizmo starts buzzing Beethoven's Fifth or some such shit. And about half way through the 5 minute poses, what happens but somebody's goddam phone goes off. FUcK!

So, my widdle drawing hand is cruizing furiously across the page, and the model (who is a very attractive young woman) is sorta pointed in my direction. I move up to draw in her face, and I look up and she's staring right at me. Man, it totally unnerved me; I was never very good at the staring game. Usually, the model won't make direct eye-contact, but it was obvious she was staring right at me (I sound like Tim Roth during his "commode story" in Res. Dogs.) I think she was just trying to make me fuck up. But I played it cool. I kept looking back at her (even though my drawing of her face had reduced itself to a puddle of guidelines and smudges, oh well.)

During a short break the model put on a robe and walked around and checked out everybody's art. When she got to mine, she was like "Whoa, that's cool. It sort of has an animation feel to it." She was so into it she wanted to see the rest of the sketchbook. Talk about an ego boost. Awww yeah, the ladies like the art... of course it could've been that everybody else at the figure drawing session sucked ass. I guess we all cant be graphical badasses! (<---Sarcastic egomania)

At the end of the appointed 2 hours, the model got dressed and was asking people for a ride. I told her I was driving north and I could drop her off. Several people kinda chuckled about the model going off with one of the artists. We talked on the way home about art, driving, Seattle and our significant others. I was surprised at how comfortable a situation it was; My mind was on the conversation and not once did i think to myself, "huhuhuh..dude, i totally just saw you naked a couple minutes ago..." Maybe I'm just a mature professional dude...


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Friday, September 27th, 2002
1:53 pm
Whoa...I just realized I've only ever updated my journal on Fridays; and very sporadically at that. Hmmm...veddy interesting.

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12:55 pm - Shaolin Temple™
Here's an interesting tidbit. Just read in the business section of the paper that the original Kung-Fu birthplace, the Shaolin Temple is trying to register the name Shaolin as a trademark with the Chinese government. They've already sued several companies for using the name Shaolin or Shaolin Temple in their product names. Apparently there's hundreds of products worldwide that use Shaolin as a brand name including cars, food, liquor, furniture, and (get this) canned hams. I dont know bout u, but if i was gonna eat any canned meat product, it might as well be the one with the kick-ass kung-fu brand name.

"Grasshopper...when you can remove the ham from the can without the little key you will be ready to leave the monestary..."

I wonder if they're gonna sue David Carradine...or the Wu-Tang clan. In my opinion, suing is too boring. Lame-ass intellectual property lawsuits; come on these are the Shaolin Monks for pete-sake! They should just show up at the corporate offices of the company who did them wrong en masse, wait until the big board meeting with all the CEOs and shit, and then bust threw the windows throwing shurikens and swinging staffs and shit! That would be totally bad-ass! I think that would be way more frightening than a little court summons...oh well.

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Friday, August 23rd, 2002
3:02 pm - Happy Happy Joy Joy
I had a great fucking day today. I'm amazed. This week sucked ass, but it ended on a high-note. Even though I spent all morning jockeying a copier, copying shitty old-skool tractor-feed computer forms, i can't stop smiling. The head honcho wasn't in today, so that probably had a lot to do with my positive attitude. All the other bosses dont have any real direct power over me, only the one true boss-man gets on my case every 5 seconds about being productive (to everybody else, and their limited computer knowledge it looks like im hard at work, even if its hard at work in a fierce game of Freecell or hardworking surfing the net.) So that was sweet.

Lessee, then I finished the whole crossword, only having to cheat using the internet a couple times; which means Im a genius, i think (not the New York Times one, im not that much of a mutant.)

Then I got the script in my email for the 8-page comic story I'm soon to be collaborating on. And it is sweeet! I only hope my artwork will be equally fresh.

And of course it is FRIDAY. Tomorrow Im gonna hop on down to the Seattle International Beer Festival and drink myself stupid sampling the fine variety of malty libations from across the globe.


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Friday, July 19th, 2002
10:55 am - I'll update when i feel like it...
uuuuuh...hung over. At least its friday, and there's not much work to do. Only five more hours and I can go home...

tik tok


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Friday, June 21st, 2002
2:19 pm
Damn, it is so nice outside right now. I wandered amongst the throng of biomass downtown on my lunch break, and found myself a nice little spot in the sun on one of those public-art type structures outside of the mall which resemble massive Tetris blocks. There was a stage nearby, surrounded by a decent size crowd, with a blues band belting out some electric chords, which distorted and echoed badly among the surrounding office buildings. Sitting there on my Tetris block, unwrapping my Double-Stack, I couldn't help notice the person sitting near me. Now downtown Seattle, like most urban downtown areas, showcases a very odd and diverse cross-section of humanity; so needless to say, seeing the occasional freak or mutant is very commonplace; and usually enjoyable. But still this chick sitting next to me surprised me. Not so much in her appearance, which was odd, but not too odd. She had a thin, junky-like frame with legs like toothpicks, sporting several abrasions and scars, with no breasts to speak of. She wore one of those skirts with a pattern like a bandana and a little unremarkable top, which didnt cover very well her many tattoos. Her head was down, so I didnt get a good look at her face, but she had a hand rolled cigarette clamped tightly in her lips and her short-cropped hair was bright magenta. But what took me off guard was what she was doing as I sat next to her and ate my burger. She was shaving her legs with a dry razor that she kept wiping off onto a Tully's napkin. So, ok, in a weird world like ours, thats not too strange, but still, it wasnt something i expected to see on my lunch break. As i watched, she continued to shave (even though I didnt see any hair on her legs to begin with) and would stop every once in awhile, spread her legs and sweep out the hairs from her crotch area, that I suppose collected in her skirt. From my vantage angle, I couldn't tell if she was wearing underwear, and thats probably a good thing; if she wasn't so gross-looking the whole thing probably would of turned me on. Then, in her continuing bout of obsessive self-maintainence, she started to hedge the loose threads of her skirt with her burning cigarette. I finished my burger and decided to walk around some more. On my way back to work I passed the junky leg-shaver again and noticed she was clipping her toenails. Well, its good to be thorough, I guess.

Man, I love living in the city...

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Friday, June 7th, 2002
8:56 am - Blogs blogs bloggin blogs
I'm such a bastard hypocrite. Blogs...stupid, dumb, assinine. Does anybody really care what some random stranger ate for breakfast? Or what shoes they bought to match their really cool vintage hand bag? What is the point of keeping an online journal, if no one is ever going to read it? Its like peeing into the Pacific in Washington to see if people in Japan feel the ocean get slightly warmer. I mean, I'm not Neil Gaiman, so who's gonna read this tripe? My grandma? My friends?

So anyway, with that out of the way, it looks like I've jumped on this here Online Journal bandwagon...for better or worse. Who knows, maybe somebody will actually read this.

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