Friday, January 30, 2009

Forced Pyjamas

If you are anything like me, then you may have recently awoken, stretched looked out the window of a tram and pondered, “Where are my pants?”

The tranny sleeping next to you has obviously carved away the unnecessary parts in exchange for easy access.

That terrible fear you have pulsing through your skin - especially in the area “down there” – is called shame. You are probably experiencing a blank space between: “I last remember…” and: “Where are the rest of my pants?” That lacuna is called a blackout.

Fortunately, this modern age of the mobile phone technology is sure to make snapshots available to you and countless others over the internet. Just think of it! You may be a star on YOUTUBE, FACEBOOK, or THE NEWS!

That feeling described earlier may now be deepening. Once again, we call this shame. The word that authorities use to describe it will be quite different. In court it is called, evidence.

Try to learn what city you are in. If it is the same that you started out in the previous evening, give yourself a pat on the back. If it is a different city, attempt to learn the local customs and language. For example, are pants a requirement? It is a safe bet that they are.

Are you bleeding? How’d that happen? Make sure that the blood is yours! Check to see if you have both of your kidneys, as you will need those. Scars, scrapes, bruises and new tattoos are a good indicator of the previous night’s meanderings. Blood is of an undisclosed origin is never a good sign.

Are you in jail again? If so, do not demand anything from the authorities. Demands made from someone in forced pyjamas seldom, if ever, are met.

Do you still have pockets? Check their contents. A wallet, keys, and mobile phone are all good indications. If there are snacks or unmarked pills, do not eat them.

If your mobile phone is available, call someone close to you and ask, “Where am I?” If there is no credit left on your phone, look at the last number dialled. Perhaps this recalls the name of the nearby tranny. If so, congratulations! Your memory is starting to come back to you!

Now, go and find some proper pants! You are going to have a long day ahead of you!

Does it smell like burning white boy in here?

"Wow, Matt! What's Australia like?"

To feel what I feel, you need only put on a straw hat, slop on some sunscreen, and sit naked inside a pre-heated oven. Except you will need a mighty, American-sized oven...boundless, yet caged. Switch the oven to convection to simulate wind.

I've never experienced hot wind before. With my eyes closed, wind is the color blue. If I were to draw a scene with some Crayola-crayons, and needed to depict wind, I'd choose blue without a second thought. Yet here, wind is actually Republican red. And it's impossible to draw because the crayons have all melted.

"Wow, Matt! That sounds hot!"

Technically, it feels hot. You can't hear it at all. Maybe some crackling here and there. It does have an odor though. It smells hot, just like you can smell snow. But heat smells like body odor rather than the slightly metallic smell of snow. And things seem see squiggly lines of vibrating heat reflected in windows of cars and a haze in the distance. Twice I've seen infrastructure spontaneously combust...the wood slats of train-tracks smoke, char, and burn right in front of me.

The train lines seem to feel it the most. The metal railways actually warp from the heat, forcing the train company, CONNEX, to hose down the rail lines.

I recently journeyed into the city via public transit, and the sun was so hot that machines everywhere stopped working. The air conditioning surrendered first, followed by the engine. 1) Walk or 2) bake in the train-box, those were our choices. As beads of sweat formed on my brow, the dry air quickly sopped up any perspiration I exuded from meandering in the sun. During the walk, I learned a few lessons about the metric system...for example I now know what 44 degrees Celsius feels like. When I was on the Imperial system, I didn't think that was a lot of degrees. Much to my chagrin, I've learned my lesson! It's 110 degrees Fahrenheit; it turns out, they are much more efficient with their units here.

And as I walked, the sun slowly began to replace my skin with a smaller, more purpled version of itself. I didn't know that purple could be a verb, but sure enough, I was purpled by the sun. As a last resort, I began to smear cherry flavored Chap Stick, SPF 15, over my forehead and neck. It sizzled and crackled. When I got to town, I walked into the first chemist I came across. I overheard an olive-skinned Greek from another isle say to his friend, "Does it smell like burning white-boy to you?"

"Yeah. Cherry flavored."

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Google vs. Bible vs. iBible

In the beginning, they didn't have Google; they had Bible. You can go home and google that.

Recently, a group of sciencey men and women were asked to Google the phrase, "Googling," and to no one's surprise, they glimpsed infinity. "It was like holding a mirror up to another mirror, but digital."

Try it yourself. Repeating their steps will make you sciencey, too.

Facts, figures, disputes and you can google anything, because "to google" is an infinitive, or a fucking verb! To google is so common that one would think it contains everything, which means that google is also a noun...some type of super-storage-warehouse-noun, likely located in China. And I have a googly suspicion that it will one day eat into other areas of language.

Why think when you can google?

So, to repeat...In the beginning, they didn't have Google; they had Bible. That's "The" Bible, the Holy part is implied. Shortly after that, they had iBible, which was a hip, alternative version of Bible. It was also known as Christianity. It differed from Bible mostly in that it had a better marketing department called Roman Empire. That's "The" Roman Empire. The Holy part is once again implied.

One can only assume that Bible, also, was once a verb or adverb... just the words "verb" and "adverb" prove you can do anything in Latin!

Most sciencey folk these days agree that stoners in the Bible and iBible days of lore, gathered around, smoking frankincense and myrrh, when one remarked, "Who invented Myrrh?"

His companion, also stoning someone, remarked, "Ewww, That is a Bibly question. Let's Bible it. Good thing we have God as a source. That's "the" God. The Holy part is implied."

Many years later, the powers that be released Bible 2.0, except this time they called it "Science." And it got angry with Bible and iBible...Like a teenager to its parent.

Parents (Bible and iBible): "But we created you."
Child (Bible 2.0, or science): "Prove it!"

Then Bible 2.0 begot technology, and technology begot the nuclear bombs, global warming, and Bible 3.0, which was called "Armageddon." The End.

Monday, January 26, 2009

The Post-ordinary school of thought

The Post-ordinary movement is a creation of Matthew Bulman and Kristen Ross, circa December 19, 2008, 2:39pm. The school originally grew out of a need to classify certain nouns in today's world. Sure, we are all aware of the illusive classification system of the Post-Modernists. However, the Post-Ordinary World requires certainty rather than ambiguity; we need lists, rather than nebulous, half-formed ideas. As such, the following nouns are specifically endorsed by the Post-Ordinists:
4-Obese Children
5-Andrew Humphries
6-Twelve Step Recovery groups
8-Public transit
9-Push Bikes
10-Terrorism (albeit, not the public's favorite, but post ordinary just the same!)
13-The clothing size extra-medium
15-Pegg 'em
16-Nuke 'em
17-The Metric System (valid only in the US)
18-The Imperial System (valid only outside the US)

The movement is growing. What started out as 18 specific nouns, and a few supporting nouns (also called adjectives), is spreading like a virus through the English Language. A post-ordinary virus. It's eating up language like the flesh-eating bacteria. In fact, add that to the fucking list! 19-Language gobbling bacteria.

And make 20-virus/bacteria interchangeability. And make 21-the widespread use of antibiotics against viruses, which has caused the bacterial form of the Language Gobbling Bacteria (see number 19) to mutate, though plasmids, into forms other than lists of nouns. Super-lists of nouns and Super-nouns (verbs). God, help us! God help us all! 22-God

Sunday, January 25, 2009

My First Blog

Trust me when I write that I am lying to you right now. I've started several of these wastebins, and they were all aborted like a half-cast 1920's foetus. Or technically, foeti. There's a flock of my metaphorically terminated children in the blogosphere. I'm not a responsible blog-father. I blame my own virtual father who abandoned me for a career in the circus.

So, my goal here is to write out some of the material that won't cut it on stage. Not because I can't pull it off. Hell no. If there's anyone who could pull it off, it's The Bulman! But some of the material will lend itself better to the written word.

Material to come
-My first sexual experience
-Happy Birthday Baby Jesus
-Leo, my drunk father
-Obesity, it could get big around here!
-So you think you know heat!
-The Judges of Dinkum
-The Great Squeegie Wars of 2008
-Bad ideas, as an American i happen to be FULL of bad ideas
-The Post-Ordinary School of thought
-How our experiment went wrong from the start
-And others...