I blame myself.

It was I who stayed out the previous night, drinking into the late hours and ensuring that my alertness the following morning would be dulled.  In the daze of my commute it is often difficult to recall even the familiar things that take up every day.  How could I be expected to remember an item stowed in the overhead compartment under those conditions?  My irresponsibility, and my own slow brain, caused me to lose my ukulele on that morning.  I am a fool and I have been stung with regret and a modicum of self-loathing since its loss.

Now I’ll hear songs that I used to strum and my chagrin is renewed.  I type this having been reminded by David Bowie’s “Ground Control to Major Tom” being played in a car commercial.  I have played other axes since then, but these have brought disappointment.  They don’t have the same feel as my own instrument.  They are too light or cannot hold a tuning.  Mine was everything I could’ve hoped for.  And now someone else in this world has it.  It is either a dishonest man’s Christmas gift to his child or a drifter’s new portable toilet.

It deserves so much better.  I should never have left it on that bus.

I didn’t even get to name her.

One thing starving writers may sometimes do to earn some quick cash is write copy for greeting cards.  I tried this but can’t get the hang of it.  I thought I’d write some silly and funny ones and see if they get published or released or whatever.  I figured it’d be easier to write the punchlines first and just figure out appropriate “me-to-you” setups to go along with them.  I came up with exactly one greeting card punchline:

…until you married that whore.

This punchline, I have found, is universal.  It could work for any occasion:

Birthdays always were your strong suit…

You graduated!  Congratulations!  The world was your oyster…

My condolences for your loss.  Your mother was always a calm, nurturing person…

Get me Hallmark on line 1!

Hey Finger Flock!

Graze on over to the PIT tomorrow night, as Finger will present our last show in this, our third season of sketch shows.  It’s been a long strange trip, and we’re wrapping it up with a bang by bringing back a few audience favorites.  Don’t miss it!  Worlds collide!  Fantasies come true!  Hakuna Matata!

Finger

Thursday, Nov 13 @ 9:30

The PIT

$8

The government took control of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac today, so I thought I’d re-post something I wrote for my defunct personal blog back in January.  Enjoy:

In 2k1 the Fed did intervene

And low’r’d the int’rest rate to depths obscene.

To 1 percent did Greenspan set the banks

To fix us after all the dot-coms tanked.

At 1%, as you all doubtless know,}

Paying off a debt is a free throw,}

And mortg’ges can be had by all Joe Blows. }

The banks knew this; they opened up their vaults

And loaned their loans to borrowers with faults.

Have you had problem credit in the past?

Declared bankruptcy? Payment deadlines passed?

No worries, buddies, mortgages are yours!

At these rates you can pay them through your snores.

And thus did every willing sap get paid,

And each one bought a house, and homes were made.

Construction projects sprang up like a virus

To feed the rich American desirous.

A miracle occurred, in th’eyes of banks:

The default rates di’nt overflow their ranks.

Americans, it seemed, could all afford,

Their new financial burdens, and prob’ly more!

What untapped mother lode had they unearthed?

These subprime borr’wers had financial worth!

And so it seemed, and so the lenders sought

To loan out cash till everyone was bought.

And people borrowed! They could see no harm!

The market was hotter than hot or hotly-warm.

In time their houses surely would age well,

And they’d all profit nicely when they’d sell.

But right around this time, th’American nation

Was thrust into the throes of high inflation.

The dollar, once the stalwart of the world,

Was into th’toilet rigorously hurl’d.

Now Greenspan and the Fed did all they knew,

And raised the interest rate a point or two,

And higher still, to keep our cash alive,

They pegged the interest rate around a 5.

At 5 percent the subprime owners knew

That again they’d miss a house payment or two.

And people lost their homes and moved away,

It hurt, but th’economy’d be okay.

That is, unless the bankers had got grabby,

And came up with a scheme that turned out shabby.

(Of course, they did. A banker’s never happy.)

The risks involved with subprime debt were high,}

But nonetheless the banks agreed to try}

To sell their debts to anyone who’d buy.}

A mortgage bond is what a bank will call

A share of th’loans which drove suburban sprawl.

You buy a bond from some financing bank,

And make a profit if the loans don’t tank.

And so these bonds were sold most everywhere,

And index funds and hedge funds took a dare.

And mortgage bonds were sold to such ‘n array,

That no one knows who owns the risks today.

And soon the giant banks who drive the planet

Were paving o’er their vaults with so much granite.

For who would lend a trillion dollars to

A bank that might be dead before they knew?

At this the lending rates climbed into space,

And banks are closing up in poor disgrace.

The Fed has tried to pour cash on the fire,

That helps, but now inflation will be higher.

What’s worse? we ask, A million houses lost?

Or bankers’ greed like shrouds upon us toss’d?

There is no debt that pays back what it took,

And a banker’s not a banker, but a crook.

Just hours after reversing his decision to retire permanently as president of Pakistan, it was announced that Pervez Musharraf has been traded to the beleaguered Arizona Cardinals.

“He’ll make a great addition to the team,” said Kurt Warner, who had been competing with teammate Matt Leinart for the starting QB position.  “We’ve seen what he can do in the conflicted northwest region of Pakistan, so we’re confident he’ll bring change as leader of this franchise.”

Musharraf had resigned earlier Monday in order to avoid impeachment proceedings being held against him.  Shortly after his tearful resignation speech had been broadcast across national networks and the Internet, Musharraf reversed his decision and announced that he was coming out of retirement.

“This should have been a historically great day for Pakistan and a triumph for democracy,” says Samina Ahmed, South Asia project director of the International Crisis Group. “Now, it is just awkward and sad.”

Musharraf’s reinstatement as Pakistan’s President was roundly rejected by that country’s parliament, and the ex-president announced his intention to govern for another team.

“I was never that committed to retirement,” Musharraf said in an interview with Bob Costas, “I was pressured by parliament to make that decision before the election and the start of the free agent cabinet appointment period.”

Pervez Musharraf’s time as president of Pakistan was marked by nearly 70 percent approval ratings, and he was known as a key ally in the United States’ War On Terror.  Speculation abounds regarding whether the 65 year-old former general will be effective in his new role as Cardinals quarterback.  The team did not qualify for the playoffs last year with a record of 8-8.

“Look, the man survived three assassination attempts and stymied the Taliban over his nation’s volatile border with Afghanistan, ” proffered Cardinals head coach Ken Whisenhunt, “I think he’ll be able to learn the playbook.”

Pervez Musharraf will be the starting quarterback on August 28th against the Denver Broncos.  He is expected to play about 12 snaps or until an attempt is made on his life, whichever occurs first.

I think I love you, new laundromat.  Indeed, I would like to thank you for making me realize that my previous laundromat was pampering me and making me soft.  Not only was it closer to my apartment, but the staff there spoke fluent English, pressed my shirts and pants, and didn’t bother making me purchase a refillable laundry card for $1 that seems to have no actual use.  They didn’t even know that you could fold boxer shorts by stuffing the cuffs into the waist, thereby creating a handy ball of underwear.  What assholes!

Today, as I iron my shirts that used to come back to me ready-to-wear, I pause to reflect on your majesty.  Sure, the old place offered free coffee and cookies and sold hot dogs and fresh fruit juices.  But you’ve got vending machines!  I can’t wait for winter to come so that I may enjoy a soggy stroll through a snowy wonderland as I trudge the extra brisk block to your door (that only sometimes opens automatically).

Love you!

Sincerely,

Phil

Yes, I’m wearing a men’s hat.  Take a good look.  It’s just like in the movies.  No, I don’t feel out-of-place wearing this thing.  The only people who seem to mind are people who’ve known me to not wear hats for my whole life.  A hat is a valid choice.

You know, I could say some things about the fashion choices you’ve made.  You’re not perfect.  But when you boldly present yourself at the risk of appearing unsightly or, God forbid, out of the ordinary, I hold my tongue.  This is not because I come from a place of diminished power due to my new hat.  It is because I’m classy.  Wearing a men’s hat assures my status as a classy man about town.

Yes, the feather is removable.  I’d remove it but then I don’t know what to do with it so that it doesn’t get ruined in case I want to wear the hat with a feather in it at some point.  So I’m rocking the feather.  The way the hatter intended, thank you very much.

I’ll not entertain the notions of haters.  You’re just jealous because now if you decide to go get yourself a pork pie hat of your own, it’ll be because I planted the seed.  I am setting a trend, regardless of whether anyone participates in the trend itself.  My hat is a delightful accessory to liven up my already almost-formal day-to-day attire.  It does not define me.  Rather, I will redefine it.

If you wish to continue hating on my hat, please refer to the following helpful website:

http://philbilly.ytmnd.com

“Which one of you jerks ordered burritos?”
“I can’t believe I agreed to work late like a jerk.”
“Eddie from IT?  That guy’s a big jerk.”
“Quit jerking my chain, you fucking idiot.”
“Looks like someone jerked off in the toaster oven.”
“Hey!  My white-out!  Jerk!”
“Only a jerk would wear the tie that you’re wearing today, Eddie.”

I’m an American, and you know what that means. That means I love the sport of arm wrestling. I work hard day and night to make sure my guns are taut, primed, loaded, and ready to flatten anyone who dares challenge my superiority. Lately, though, I’ve been feeling a guilty pinch. It’s as if something is missing from this lifetime I so enjoy. If only there was a way to combine arm wrestling with a chance to demonstrate my mental prowess and hand-eye coordination.

Friends, my ship has come in:

http://tresling.org/

Finally, they’ve combined arm wrestling with the video game Tetris! What took them so long? I can’t wait to snap someone’s arm off at the shoulder just as I’m lining up a 4-line to hit the slot just right. Tetris, bitch! That’s what I’ll say.

This is only the beginning. Imagine a future where nearly athletic competitions of every stripe are combined with feats of the mind and thumb:

• Indian Leg MegaMan
• Rock, Paper, Battletoads
• Bionic Comman-Hunt
• Super Mario Spitting-For-Distance
• Bloody Knuckles of Zelda: The Ocarina of Pain
• Mike Tyson’s Punch-Foot-Race

The possibilities are endless! What combination would you like to see?

As if I didn’t have enough things in my life to inspire the kinds of nightmares Salvador Dali would journal about, along comes this creep with his bed that makes itself. Isn’t it enough that you have to see Reddenbacher Light in that photo rubbing his wormy backhand all over the prototype? Do we really need the aluminum auto-mechanical human skin peeler devices attached to each side of this thing? Something tells me if you can survive battle after bloody man-versus-machine pre-dawn battle with this device, you already have enough energy to straighten your sheets and blankets every morning. I like my bed with three moving parts, maximum:

-me
-my lady
-my Teddy Ruxpin

Boo, robo-bed! Boo, science!