Archive for September, 2011

September 27, 2011

How Not To Internet Date, 27 Sep 2011

AN ACTUAL ONLINE MATCHMAKING CONVERSATION BETWEEN MICHELLE DEE AND AN INDIAN NAMED SUDEEP

A middle-aged woman pretending to be a thirtysomething British man falls in love with a middle-aged black man pretending to be a young, foxy Jewish chick.

sudeep: hi
sudeep: how ru
MichelleDee: Hi! I’m Bart Simpson! Who the hell are you?
sudeep_mtec: where ru forom
sudeep_mtec: this is sudeep
MichelleDee: i don’t know sudeep
sudeep: ur soooooooooo beautiful
sudeep: plz rememeber me
MichelleDee: nope, no clue
sudeep: why ur hating food
MichelleDee: i dunno
sudeep: ur sooo beautiful friend
MichelleDee: thanks
sudeep: do u have web cam now
MichelleDee: yes
sudeep: can i see u on web cam friend’
MichelleDee: no
sudeep: ur soooo ooooooooooooooooooo cute friend
MichelleDee: so you said
sudeep: what do u do friend
MichelleDee: I DON’T cam with strange men
sudeep: i mean ur soooo beautiful
MichelleDee: ‘ya… you said that
sudeep: what do u do
sudeep: where ru from?
MichelleDee: You call me friend and you don’t know?
MichelleDee: shouldn’t a friend know things like that?
sudeep: give me ur phone number
MichelleDee: LOLz
MichelleDee: no
MichelleDee: who the hell are you?
sudeep: hello friend ur good name plz
MichelleDee: i’m not your friend
MichelleDee: I like to fart
sudeep: friend this is sudeep from india
MichelleDee: do you fart?
sudeep: no mam
MichelleDee: liar
MichelleDee: everyone farts
sudeep: noooo im not a liar promise
MichelleDee: but you are
MichelleDee: everyone farts
MichelleDee: if you eat… you fart
sudeep: before one year im chating
MichelleDee: I just farted
MichelleDee: it was loud
MichelleDee: scared my cat
sudeep: noo friend im not a lier im true friend
MichelleDee: do you fart?
sudeep: plz
MichelleDee: answer me
sudeep: no
MichelleDee: LIAR!
sudeep: nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
MichelleDee: YES!
sudeep: noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
MichelleDee: you eat do you not?
sudeep: noooooooooooooooooo im not a liat
sudeep: yes
sudeep: eat
MichelleDee: then your stomache produces gases that must then be released from your ass! EVERYONE FARTS!
MichelleDee: those who claim not to fart are LIARS!
sudeep: nooooooooooooooo friend im not aliar
MichelleDee: then you fart!
MichelleDee: TELL ME THE TRUTH!
sudeep: im ur friend that is true
MichelleDee: tell me you FART
sudeep: before one year im chating
MichelleDee: you are NOT my friend. you LIE!
sudeep: nooo mam im not a lier
MichelleDee: DO
MichelleDee: YOU
MichelleDee: FART?
sudeep: that is true”
sudeep: fart?
MichelleDee: yes!
MichelleDee: release gas from your rear end!
sudeep: noooooo
MichelleDee: LIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!
sudeep: nio im not alier
MichelleDee: LIAR!
sudeep: u know im from india
MichelleDee: liar liar pants on fire cuz you FARTED and I lit that shit!

September 26, 2011

Haiku News, 26 September 2011

We all forget things at times... just like this silly hooch forgot to flush.

by CHRISTOPHER WOO

—–

Last minute recall –
Haiku News is due tonight.
Oh well, fuck it then!

—–

Haiku News Haiku –
A Haiku ’bout a Haiku.
Haiku Inception!

—–

September 24, 2011

How To Be An Intellectual Douche

by ANNE GARDNER
edited by CHRISTOPHER WOO

  • Memorise a list of names of both scientists and philosophers and spout them off, attributing ideas and theories to them at random. Don’t forget to memorise the names of their writings and works, too. Throw in a spiritualist or two, here and there, for good measure.
  • Never admit that you’re wrong. Remember, all research and knowledge has been completed and discovered on any given subject you’ve troubled yourself to study. There will never be anything else to say on the subject. New and unique ideas are absurd, and furthermore, admitting wrongdoing would be mean utter failure and disaster to your aspirations of being a douche.
  • Don’t accept ideas from anyone who hasn’t read at least three books or watched at least five YouTube or Vimeo videos on the topic at hand. Who do they think they are to come up with un-sourced ideas? Unique ideas and new information are absurd.
  • The only acceptable selections of music for your repertoire are the classical artists: Bach, Beethoven, Wagner, Vivaldi, Mozart (of course, since your mother has been playing it for you since conception), Shubert, Dave Matthews, Chopin, Coldplay, Litz, and Brahms. Anything else is simply unacceptable “noise.”
  • Two words: Vegan Starbucks. It’s your new diet! The more coffee and smoothies the better. A smoothie is your new chicken soup. It is good for the brain – and the soul. Any coffee that costs less than $4 per cup is downright offensive. For our aspiring douches across the pond, Earl Grey is also acceptable. Also, remember: meat is murder. Need I say more?
  • Meditate daily on the magnificence of your own existence and that it was formed from nothingness and chaos. Soothe and pacify your errant original thoughts through daily meditation. Be sure to reflect on the curiousness that is your navel in the true style of DalaiLamaGhandiDavidLynchBuddhaDrPhil .Repeat this mantra until your mind is quieted: ad nauseam, ad nauseam, ad nauseam.
  • If you don’t have one, purchase a thesaurus, or utilise any available – either online or Microsoft Word. Make sure before you engage in philosophical discussions, to thoroughly analyse and formulate your opinions, picking out any simplistic or crude verbiage. A thesaurus (along with your already vast knowledge of what Hawking, Darwin, Aristotle, Plato, and Ron Paul has to say) is your most important tool in intellectually blowing the minds of your soon-to-be followers.
  • In a discussion, whether in person or online, choose the elite few that have adhered to these rules and become their yes man. Agree with everything they have to say. Come to their defence when attacked. Hone that relationship and mold it into your very own circle jerk.
  • Look down your nose at everyone. Lift your head up high and gaze with eyes half-closed down at the peons who dare to think their intellect could even begin to compete with yours.
  • Finally, have some self-respect. That good for nothing job of yours is getting you nowhere. They aren’t utilising your skills at that desk job. And management is too remedial to realise that you are brilliant. Quit that job and ride your bike over to the nearest Starbucks and apply. Surely there you will be recognised by the working stiffs for your intellect, as you make their morning venti, bold, half-caff with cinnamon dolce and room for cream. Stimulate them, not just with their morning brew, but with your mind. There is no greater calling.
September 22, 2011

What Does That Euphemism Really Mean? #3

by CHRISTOPHER WOO

Conjugal Visit: A tutoring session for grammar, specifically verbs.

Oooooh yeah! Look at them freaky nasty verbs gettin it on!

Supreme Sacrifice: When you have to give up pizza night to use the money for your kid’s school project.

Shoot Blanks: Tae Bo never worked for me anyway.

Taking A Dirt Nap: What that third union worker is doing over there under the shady tree.

Turn A Trick: I paid $35 for this hooker, I’m damn sure hittin’ it from the front and the back.

Well Hung: Descriptive of level paintings and other artwork.

Sniffing The Maple: At least that’s what your mom calls it.

Hand Over The Coals: No, seriously, hand ’em over. Fucking coal thief.

Hiring A Russian: It’s the in thing right now, they’re so economical.

Cloning The Mammoth: *Insert yo’ momma joke*

The Departed: Great god damned movie!

Talk To A Man About A “Horse”: What Kevin Smith had to do before filming Clerks 2.

Sleep Around: What bums do.

September 20, 2011

This Week in J.Miz, Volume 13

by J.MIZ
edited by ANDREW HICKS

J.Miz enjoys her first virtual wine tasting*. (*Not actually J.Miz.)

  • Anyone who’s surprised Sarah Palin fucked a black guy OBVIOUSLY never fucked a black guy.
  • When a methhead loses a tooth, does the Tooth Fairy put a box of Sudafed under their pillow?
  • My boyfriend said that I’m boring in bed. So, being a good girlfriend, I suggested he try waking me up.
  • You know the economy is fucked when rappers are rhyming about how much gas they have. Seriously? Chains, diamonds, self-made premium alcohol, clothing line, record company? OUT! Full gas tank? That’s GANGSTER!
  • It’s extremely hard to have a committed relationship with a drug addict. Unless you’re his dealer.
  • About 10 years ago, I had a miscarriage. And it really gets me down. At tax time.
  • I don’t spend a lot of time worrying about the afterlife. I like surprises. And sinning.
  • They say you can please a woman by watching her please herself. I say just ask my cat. He’s SEEN things.
  • Watching a show about a man who knowingly spread HIV. Boy, that takes all the fun out of me “surprise clapping” guys.
  • I’ve always wanted to learn how to say, “What?! ARE YOU DEAF?!” in American Sign Language.
  • When you realize you HAVE to be up in less than seven hours but SHOULD be up in five, everything you did for the last two hours seems pretty fucking pointless.
  • You can tell a lot about a city by its white people in the fall.
  • In retrospect, I’m pretty sure the song “I Got 5 On It” was about hand jobs.
  • Women count the ways they love you in inches and dollars. #PearlsOfWisdom
  • Your probation officer doesn’t appreciate you showing up for drug testing with poppy seed muffins “for everyone!” #SoIveHeard
  • I’m such a narcissist, it’s taken me MONTHS to go through my phone and part with all the amazing and supportive texts I have. Sent.
  • My boyfriend recently started having faint memories of being sodomized. Being a good girlfriend, I immediately increased his dosage of GHB.
  • Anytime I see a crack-addicted couple, it upsets me. Then I smoke some crack. Cuz it must work for them. Modern dating is weird.
  • I just got spam for a “virtual wine tasting.” What’s next? An IM blow job?? #IHateTheFuture
  • I never trust a grown man who owns more than three track suits.
  • Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice… that doesnt happen. i just havent reacted yet and probably was never fooled in the first place.
  • I hate finding pubic hair on a toilet seat. Not as much as I hate finding a newborn on a toilet seat, but still.
  • Polly wanna cracker because that bitch Polly is a fucking racist. #PearlsOfWisdom
  • “You can’t love anyone until you love yourself.” -Coping With ED tips from your friends at Cialis.
  • It’s life’s greatest joy to find somebody who just “gets” us. But life’s cruel joke is that it’s never just that simple.
  • My boyfriend thinks I’m really into doggystyle, but I’m really not. Into his face. #ClassicJMiz
  • I’m so dedicated to being a cougar, I only date guys who get a student discount at the movies.
  • Growing up with a dad in entertainment taught me that I NEVER want to be the girl who “blew him when…”
  • Even though I taught him to do it, every time my cat says “Mama,” I feel like one of those guys on Maury.
  • My boyfriend’s comedy video is popular on YouTube. It has 500 views and 450 likes. Which means out of all those views, only 90 percent were him.
  • I sometimes worry my current boyfriend thinks a lot of these jokes are about him. And doesn’t get the hint.
  • My cat likes going down the porch steps and scratching the neighbors’ door. I’m checking his pockets for Watchtower pamphlets.
September 19, 2011

Haiku News, 19 September 2011

by CHRISTOPHER WOO

It's 'policy' when you take from the poor to keep the rich happy. It's 'warfare' when you take money from a millionaire who will still be a millionaire afterwards.

—–

Republicans Call Obama’s Tax Plan ‘Class Warfare’

Kill the middle class.
And then call the Kettle black.
Neo-Con trash Pots.

—–

New England faces possible pumpkin shortage

A Pumpkin shortage?
I bet it’s Peter. Peter
Damn Pumpkin Eater.

—–

Windows 8: What you need to know

Same as Win 7
with a fugly Start Menu.
The future is here.

—–

PlayStation Network Updates Protect Sony from Lawsuits

You can’t sue Sony.
I did not know my console
was an H.M.O.

—–

Exclusive: Lohan ‘Distressed’ By Bad Girl Reports

Left Rehab today.
Interview held in Night Club.
Don’t call me ‘Bad Girl.’

—–

US gamers crack puzzle in AIDS research that stumped scientists for years

Three-Hundred Fifty.
Is not only Gamer weight,
but I.Q. as well!

September 17, 2011

Facebook “Likes”

ACTUAL FACEBOOK PAGE PAIRS “LIKED” BY WNF CONTRIBUTORS*
edited by ANDREW J HICKS

  • Amanda Doppler likes God and Whores.
  • Andrew J Hicks likes Stalking and Restraining Orders.
  • T. Allan Christopher likes Feminism and Strippers.
  • Vickie Sauseda likes Eating Cat Food and Alzhiemer’s Awareness.
  • Andrew J. Hicks likes Prince and Androgyny.
  • Eve Ventrella likes Unsafe Sex and World AIDS Day.
  • T. Allan Christopher likes We’re Not Funny and Dane Cook.
  • Eric Dohman likes Spiderman and Arachnophobia.
  • Eve Ventrella likes Sylar and Are You Prone To Masturbate or Addicted To Masturbating?
  • C.J. Dodd likes Trying New Things and Gays Should Marry!
    [MICHELLE DEE: C.J. isn’t playing by the rules. When I go on his FB page, I just see “C.J. Dodd likes The Lion King.”
    C.J. DODD: C.J. Dodd likes Punching Women In The Face and Michelle Dee Playing Her Cards Right Or Else.”]
  • Eric Dohman likes Boats and Hoes.
  • C.J. Dodd likes Jesus and Premarital Sex That Ends Up In A Bastard Child But We Can’t Abort It Because That’s Against Our Religion And Oh God Why Am I So Lonely And Using Hypothetical Likes To Express What’s Really Going On In My Life To A Bunch Of Pseudo-Comedians Fuck It Suicide Is The Only Recourse.
  • Michelle Dee likes Gamers and Abstinence.
  • Eric Dohman likes Anal Beads and Rosary.
  • T. Allan Christopher likes Midgets and Velcro.
  • Eric Dohman likes Airplanes and Arabs.
  • T. Allan Christopher likes Vans and Candy.
  • Andrew J Hicks likes Down Syndrome and Lead Poisoning.
  • C.J. Dodd likes Shitting Into Elongated Cunts and Good Manners.

*Mostly. Some are made up and don’t actually exist.

September 15, 2011

What Does That Euphemism Really Mean? #2

by CHRISTOPHER WOO

Oooh yeah. My favorite place to pack my meat!

Inventory Leakage: What happens when you have too much liquidity in assets.

Hankie Pankie: What happens after all Hank Williams Jr.’s rowdy friends come over.

It Fell Off The Back Of A Truck: Microsoft explanation for why so many XBOX 360’s stopped functioning just outside of their warranty period.

Kick The Bucket: Literal; who the fuck left that there?

Knocked Up: The result of astronauts fighting.

Lose Your Lunch: The all-too-often result of using the shared refrigerator at the office. Thieving puds!

Laid Off: Describes post-coital. For the kinky this sometimes involves ‘Pissed Off’.

Meat Packer: He who puts together a picnic lunch.

Powder Your Nose: Result of lacking care for your appearance after consumption of powdered doughnuts.

Put To Sleep: Brief review of WNF articles written by Andrew Hicks.  ;)

Six Feet Under: The location of Verne Troyer in relation to Shaq’s head.

September 13, 2011

12 Words Come Out of Closet

by ANDREW HICKS

After a press conference in which he announced he was gay, the word "Vivacious" leaps into the air, blissfully. "Vivacious," in addition to being homosexual, consists of conjoined nonuplets with nine pairs of eyes.

SOHO, NEW YORK — A dozen English language words, ranging from the commonly used “Under” and “Pitcher” to the more obscure “Catcher” and “Obscure,” stood onstage together at a press conference Monday to announce that they are gay.

Assembled members of the media congregated near demonstrators holding signs with phrases like “Gay Word Pride” and “Spray, Delay and Walk Away,” the latter of which was apparently an instruction on how to properly apply cologne.

“I’m Vivacious. I’m an attractive and lively male word who just happens to be gay,” Vivacious told reporters after the press conference. “I’m taking this bold public step to inspire the new younger generation of words – ‘Frenemy’ and ‘Staycation,’ for example. Not that I think those words are gay.”

With increased awareness, said Vivacious, traditional barriers will continue to fall within the word community. In 1990, the only openly gay word was “Vogue,” but in 1999, the word “Super” was outed by the South Park movie and forced to follow suit.

“When ‘Super’ came out, I was in an unhappy marriage with ‘Flannel,'” said Pastiche, one of the words to come out at Tuesday’s news event. “But I’m no longer living a lie, and ‘Flannel’ says she’s happier now that she lives as a single woman with a female roommate.”

The Words Come Out event lasted an hour, with various gay words and their supportive friends and family adjourning to Starbucks after the event.

“This has parallels to the civil rights struggle,” said Fa’Shizzle, while sipping a venti-size Hot Caramel Apple Cider. “But you know what? Last year, I got added to their unabridged dictionary, right between ‘Factorum’ and ‘Fatigue.’ I heard ‘Fatigue’ mutter, ‘There goes the neighborhood,’ under his breath. Claimed he was joking.”

Statistics released by pro-homosexual group Words Against Damaging Defamation (or, WADD) state that up to 12 percent of words are gay or bisexual, with up to 15 percent of Spanish words being transgendered.

“I saw Chivalry up on that stage,” remarked Truculent, a single word in her late thirties. “I KNEW he was too good to be true!”

Truculent shook her head and stubbed out her cigarette. Behind her, Frappuccino and Sashay walked hand in hand out of the Starbucks broom closet.

ADDITIONAL CONTRIBUTORS: Eric Dohman and Eve Ventrella

September 12, 2011

Haiku News, 12 September 2011

by CHRISTOPHER WOO


Bartz Resigns from Yahoo Board

What is this “Yahoo!”?
I will have to Google it.
Oh! Ha ha ha ha.

—–

Jersey Shore: Snooki and Deena Fight in the Dark

Tried to watch this show.
TV screen was all orange.
Took it for repair.

—–

NASA Launches Satellites to Map Moon’s Core

In this day and age,
A mystery at last we solve.
Is it made of cheese?

—–

Why does the female orgasm exist?

Science does not know.
Will need more research funding
for trips to Vegas.

—–

3 held in Detroit over bathroom trips on plane

Damn you T.S.A.
A man can’t drop a stink-deuce
seven times per flight?

—–

Woman dies after injecting hot beef fat into face

Damn you silly woman!
Now you totally ruined
my best pick-up line.

September 11, 2011

Klan Kalls it Kwits?

by CHRISTOPHER WOO

K3 recruitment drive starts at the top!

LITTLE ROCK, ARK. – Today, the Klu Klux Klan announced that it will be going through a bit of an identity change. Spokesman John “Chilli” Mac issues this statement, “After some bit’a consideration, we come to think the youths of today don’t find us hip enough to join up with.”

Membership is down over 85 percent since 1995. Mac blames this on the rapid growth and popularity of the Internet.

“Seems with all the message boards and social media to express your views on, the kids today are much more independent racists. Hell, my own 10-year-old boy would rather shout racial slurs into his Xbox microphone than come to a meet-up,” Mac stated.

With these things in mind, the decision came to re-brand the Klan. It seemed a natural fit to give it a new name, in the style of a web 2.0 business.

“From here on out we’re to be known as ‘K3: The Klan.’ The kids love it, ‘cuz you can make a K and a 3 with your hands. My kids run around hollerin’ “K3 Represent” and tossin’ the K3 sign up all the time.” It seems the irony of the hip-hop ‘gangsta’ culture seeping into Klan life has gone over the head of Mr. Mac.

Along with the name change, K3 has realized its sense of fashion is seriously outdated. Mac says, “We discovered that wearing our bedsheets out, especially after Labor Day, is just not hip at all.”

read more »

September 8, 2011

What Does That Euphemism Really Mean?

by CHRISTOPHER WOO

A House Of Ill Repute. When visiting be sure to wear your blue dress, and bring cigars.

Adult Entertainment: The enjoyment parents get at watching their children suffer through life just like they did.

Asleep With Jesus: Literal; You should really keep track of your wife. And the Gardner.

Au Natural: What you get when you forget to put the cheese packet on your Stouffer’s Au Gratin Potatoes.

Bit The Big One: He won’t even return her phone calls.

Bought The Farm: Addicted to Facebook games.

Carnal Knowledge: Intimacy with a carnival worker.

Crossed Over To The Other Side: Fucking swing voters!

Disinformation: What you are reading right now.

Ethnic Cleansing: Equal-opportunity public showers.

Friendly Fire: The kind you camp near, or have a beer around.

Give Up The Ghost: A conversion to atheism.

Hide The Sausage: Literal; Usually it’s still in the refrigerator, just tucked in with the vegetables in the crisper.

House Of Ill Repute: The White House, post-Clinton.

September 7, 2011

’80s Shoulder-Pad Dance Party!

by LOLA TUCKER
edited by ANDREW HICKS

Are your shoulder pads a Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte or Miranda?

Laughing at yourself is fun. Laughing at others is even better.

Now, before you skewer me and throw me over an open flame, let me explain. I am not talking about the kind of laughter that comes from watching another suffer at the hands of cruelty or mean-spiritedness. I am talking about watching your dearest friend, clearly over-served by the bartender, bump and grind on the dance floor with an equally over-served stranger. Or watching someone you adore emerge from the ladies’ room with her skirt tucked neatly in the back of her tights.

I had one such embarrassing incident back in 1988 or so. I was about 24 years old, living in downtown D.C. and running around with the world in my back pocket. My best friends and I spent many a night hitting the club scene, drinking cheap champagne for hours before pouring ourselves into a cab to head home.

Our favorite hangout was an upscale spot along the Georgetown waterfront called the River Club. We owned that joint. We were dressed to impress.

Now, I know not all of you will remember the miracle of shoulder pads and remember them with quite the fondness that I do, but believe me, I thought they were THE BOMB. No fashion ensemble of mine was ever complete without big hair, a short skirt and the biggest shoulder pads I could find.

read more »

September 5, 2011

Haiku News, 5 September 2011

by CHRISTOPHER WOO

—–

The newly-discovered Shroud Of Palin

Government sues 17 big banks for mortgages

Government suing banks
Going to recoup money
Just to waste again

—–

Sarah Palin gives a rousing non-campaign campaign speech in Iowa

Whenever mentioned
A Palin Presidential Run
Jesus cries kittens

—–

Will Chaz Bono Use Cher’s Music on Dancing With the Stars?

With Chaz Bono there
And that Cunt-faced Nancy Grace
Will anyone watch?

—–

New species of ancient rhinoceros found in Tibet

Spiritual Sage
Enlightened Rhinoceros
Prophesy foretold

—–

For $620K, You Too Can Own a Jet-Powered Batmobile

So this must be why
Class warfare is in vogue now
Republican toys

—–

Domino’s to serve pizzas on the Moon, apparently

The space vacuum
May actually help with
The cardboard flavour

—–

Who is WikiLeaks Blaming for Breaching Its Security?

WikiLeaks has leak
Should update security
With some WikiTweaks

September 3, 2011

Song Challenge 19: Adult-Contemporary Guilty Pleasures

edited by ANDREW HICKS

Chicago's "Look Away" video: Hot chick. Fiery explosion. Still somehow boring.

ANDREW HICKS
Okay, I’ll go first. One of my guiltiest of guilty pleasures is Chicago‘s “Look Away.” It’s a Diane Warren song, even (that lady has written some of the worst pop ballads of all-time and become a billionaire in the process), and I love its maudlin gaudiness. The video, on the other hand, looks like an awful version of the depressing first half of a Folgers commercial with pyrotechnics tossed in.

ANNE GARDNER
What does “adult contemporary” mean exactly? Music that appeals to adults or music made by adults? Or both?

ERIC DOHMAN
Any music where you can replace the word “baby” with “Jesus” and it still sounds like it fits.

T. ALLAN CHRISTOPHER
The narrowed-down definition would be: music by people our age for people our age. However, you can look at “past adult contemporary” music as well, which was music for peers in that time period. Think of softer, more R+B-driven non-bubblegum pop. Michael Bolton, Kenny G, Amy Grant‘s secular stuff, Elton John, Billy Joel, etc.”

ERIC DOHMAN
“Look away, Jesus, look away…

read more »

September 2, 2011

Too Old For This Shit

Where the shitnipples did I put my trunk?

by TONY FYLER
edited by CHRISTOPHER WOO

I turn 40 in just a few months time. People tell me this means I’m now officially a Grumpy Old Man. I always used to mock the idea that you could only be Grumpy, or indeed Old, once you passed through the mystic portal of fortyness. I’ve been Grumpy since I was 11, when I used to tell my fellow pupils to go buy a brain, or tell adults who insisted on being cretins to go and boil their head. In a vat of Sulphuric acid, if I remember correctly.

But that’s the point. I’m no longer sure I remember correctly. This isn’t a creeping senility, or a momentary lapse of memory. This has been happening on a daily basis since my 35th birthday. Halfway through sentences. Halfway through journeys from one room to another. It’s like someone’s hit me with a baseball bat and I’m in a bit of a daze. I’ve always been known by friends and my wife as Memoryboy, for my freakish ability to remember the most arcane details about things, people, situations. Now I can barely hold a coherent thought from one end to the other.

Goddamnsonofabitch. I know there were other examples of the kind of mental decay that’s been visited on me in the last few years, but I can’t remember now what any of it is!

Oh… that’s right. My wife, stifling giggles, has just reminded me that loud noises… hell, even moderately quiet noises… now make me jumpy. Boy that was fun on Halloween. It was even more fun on Guy Fawkes Day – a kind of 17th Century “Hang A Terrorist” holiday, celebrated to this day by setting off random fireworks. Every banger, whizzer and colour-splashing crack of thunder saw me wince, or cringe, or shift involuntarily out of the way. It’s like my body is trying to tell me something, if I could only remember what it is…

It’s like something has clicked over in my metabolism. I’ve worn slippers without irony. My hands and feet are starting to get inexplicably cold for longer periods of time. Young people have been annoying me since I was one of them, but now,  it’s as though the last remaining drops of patience in my soul have been poured out, I want to tell them, as I did as a child, how insane and pointless they are.

Naturally, given the world we live in, I’ve been shouting at the TV for some time now, but I’ve graduated… I used to only shout at the easy targets – the politicians telling us they know what they are doing, the adverts that dared to tell me – short, fat, balding, greasy, hairy-arsed and clueless me – that I’m “worth it too.”

But now it’s everything. Every advert, every programme, every ridiculous flickering parade of mediocrity that passes for entertainment in the arena of the damned. I shout. I point, like that makes some miraculous difference and makes my rage more valid somehow.

The button has clicked over in my brain from “Thirtysomething, clinging to patience and humour and some desperate hope that advertisers are aiming even vaguely at me” to “Bath-chair.” Like I’m suddenly this old and scowling bastard, in my slippers and my Grumpy Old Man face. If I had a stick, I’d hit people with it. In fact, the only reason I’ve refrained from buying a stick is not to get arrested. And somehow, all of a sudden, the fact that people deserve a damn good stick-whacking has become the height – the very pinnacle – of logic and good sense to me. I’ve become my Gran! And suddenly I’m right, they’re wrong!

I feel the gaze of all the proper Grumpy Old Men upon me now, and they are smiling grimly, as though they have been watching my progress and now are happy to call me one of their own. As though they’re telling me “You see? You were always Grumpy-in-waiting, but now you have the urgency, the forgetfulness, the inexplicable back pain – don’t mention it, you’re welcome… Now you are truly one of us, My Son.”

Don’t mess with me. I’m getting too old for this shit.