The Flight of the Conchords is a new show on HBO that stars the band of the same name, two musicians/comedians from New Zealand looking for fame in New York City. Wow I have never heard of them before watching this show, but I've been recently looking at their performances on YouTube and their MySpace page. And I found really like their stuff. It airs every Sunday at 10:30 PM and I suggest that you should really check their stuff out.
Their MySpace
http://www.myspace.com/conchords
The show's MySpace
http://www.myspace.com/hboflight
The shows actual site on HBO
http://www.hbo.com/conchords/
And just some little videos:
The Flight of the Conchords
Saturday, June 30, 2007
New Narrative
Friday, June 29, 2007
More Stories:
JP
Come one people! Tell us about your crazy stories on your blogs and plug them here!!!!
That's why the WoW is here!
Christopher.
iDiots
iDiots
That's what they are, folks. People are lining up to purchase the new iPhone, which becomes available at 6 p.m. your local time.
I have a secret to tell you, iDiots: they will make more. These aren't like concert tickets where there is a limited amount of space. Apple has factories full of slave labor overseas pumping this iCrap out. You can go about your daily lives. Leave an order on Amazon. Trust me, they will deliver this to you if you hand over the cash.
I understand. You're an early adopter. You don't want to be the only one of your friends stuck with last seasons Motorola Razor. But c'mon; what's more pathetic: sitting for hours in the heat to buy one, or waiting a week or two until you can buy it at your leisure?
iDiots.
Proof That You Can Make People Pay for Something That Is Free
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Have you ever seen a piece of exercise equipment that was so useless and that made users look so ridiculous that you wonder why anyone would even bother inventing it?
On today's trip through the world of Amazon, there was an item on the front page that caught my eye. Okay, it only caught my eye because it was right next to the pictures that were trying to sell me lingerie, but my eye was caught regardless.
"Noooo," I laughed to myself in disbelief as I clicked the link, "They can't be serious."
They are. They actually want to sell me a ropeless jump rope. Yes, even Mozilla's spellchecker does not believe its figurative eyes. A jump rope that isn't a rope at all? Isn't that, you know, sort of like jumping? Yes, but with this your friends will know you spent so much money in an effort to get in shape! They say that it is to prevent tripping. Chances are if you didn't learn how to jump rope as a kid without tripping or if your hand-eye coordination is so off that your brain can't process "jump!," you have bigger problems on your hands.
The product feature list goes on to talk about how portable it is. Rope isn't portable? Rope manages to make it onto every wilderness survival "must-have" list, but carrying around a few feet is just so cumbersome. Mankind has been utilizing rope to do pretty much everything for centuries, but apparently it's fallen out of fashion because it fails to be flashy and expensive.
This thing is packaged with 3 DVD workouts. 3! If I were to make a DVD of a ropeless jump rope, it would contain:
•Slow jumping
•Fast jumping
•Double Dutch (for two lazy people and their stupid friend)
•Criss-Cross (For those who don't think they look stupid enough jumping up and down waving their hands about)
The rest would be a constant shot of my middle finger. They wouldn't notice, though, because once they hear the word "fast" they will turn the DVD off in fear of breaking a sweat.
And, finally, it's patented. Someone went through the trouble of making sure no one else would be "brilliant" enough to steal their idea.
The only use I can see for a ropeless jump rope is to prevent people from hanging themselves once they find out they spent money to jump up and down.
How to Bury a Post
Let's bury the Angry Veteran's post (and his stopwatch) with a recipe for Ginger Chicken, requested by Hojo. Okay, it's not a drink recipe, but it was a request. I see only one spot where someone can mistakenly get all flamed up and bust my nuts about being a whiny recovering bitch and deserving every sarcastic jab I get even though I'm the one who's suffering while they sit back and manipulate people and lie and play fake doctor... um... nevermind.
By the way, get that Erotic Clown Guy on here. Not that I really have a vote being voted off the blog and everything.
Anywho, recipe for Murk's Ginger Chicken:
SERVES 2-4
INGREDIENTS:
2-3 boneless chicken breasts, or 4-6 chicken thighs, chopped into bite-size pieces
handful of fresh shiitake mushrooms, or dried (if dried, be sure to soak in hot water for 2 or more hours until soft)
1 package snow peas, OR approximately 2 cups bok choy, su choy, or other Asian cabbage
1 red bell pepper, de-seeded and sliced
1 small cooking onion, sliced
3 cloves garlic, minced
4 thumb-size roots of ginger, 2 sliced into matchstick-like pieces, and 2 grated
1-2 red chillies, minced
1 tsp. cornstarch dissolved in 4 Tbsp. soy sauce or tamari
SAUCE:
1 Tbsp. soy sauce or tamari
1 Tbsp. fish sauce
1 Tbsp. brandy (don't worry, alcohol evaporates out)
1 tsp. brown sugar
1 Tbsp. rice vinegar (or other type of vinegar)
1 tsp. cornstarch dissolved in 2 Tbsp. water
OTHER:
2-3 Tbsp. oil for stir-frying
about 1 cup fresh basil for topping
PREPARATION:
Place chopped chicken in a mixing bowl together with the cornstarch dissolved in soy sauce. Stir well, so that chicken is covered in this quick marinade. Set aside while you prepare the other ingredients.
Make the sauce by mixing all the sauce ingredients together in a cup.
Have all other ingredients ready to stir-fry. Begin by warming 2-3 Tbsp. oil in a wok or large frying pan over medium-high heat.
When oil is hot, add the onion, garlic, chillies, mushrooms, chicken (together with the soy sauce/cornstarch), and the ginger matchsticks. Stir-fry for 5-10 minutes, or until chicken is cooked. Add a little water when wok or pan becomes dry (1 Tbsp. at a time).
Add the snow peas, bell pepper, and the grated ginger. Stir-fry for another 3 minutes, or until snow peas have softened. Again, add a little water as needed to keep ingredients frying nicely.
Add the sauce, stirring well to incorporate.
Finally, add the cornstarch dissolved in water, stirring quickly to dissolve in the sauce. When the sauce in the wok becomes thick, remove from the heat.
Do a taste test for salt, adding more fish sauce if not salty enough. (If too salty, add a squeeze of lime juice.)
Slide onto a serving platter, top with the fresh basil sprinkled over, and serve with plenty of Thai jasmine rice. This dish goes especially well with a cold Light Murk Perk.
WWJMD? Run, Shoot, and Blow Sh*t Up!
I just want you all to know that I saw it last night and it was great. It was one of those action movies that did exactly what it was supposed to do and didn't try to do anything more or less.
When I left the theater, I felt a letdown because there wasn't more movie to watch.
It was damn good.
Yippee kai yay motherfu**er!!!
Now THIS Is Interesting
I received an email from someone who wants to contribute to the Wand of Wonder. His name is Erotic Clown. I'll just post the email and see what you think:
Hey there buddy,
This ain't no span or nuthin. I been readin your blog with all the different people and I wondered how I sign up. So, I emails a coupla people and they say your one of the admins around here.
Let me explain why I want to join first. Look, I was a regular guy who occasionally dressed as a clown. You know, for kids parties and stuff. I needed money. Well one day I'm walkin down the street, late for little Joey's birthday party and some guy stops me.
"You a clown?" he asks.
"What da fuck's it look like to you? Yeah I'm a fuckin clown and I'm late." I sez.
"You got a dirty mouth for a clown," he sez, "I like that."
I starts walkin away when he says, "Whatever they're payin ya I'll double it if you'll fall face first into this banana cream pie and get up and make some squeaky ass clown noises." I turn around and dis guy ain't kiddin! He's got the pie right in front of him and a wad of twenties in his hand.
So, I sez, "What? all I gotta do is fall on my face in this pie and act all goofy and you'll give me five hundred bucks?"
"Make it a grand if you keep this between you and me. I'll give you my cell if you're good."
Alright, so I fall face first into the pie and jump up and start whooping. Woooo! Hee hee WOOOOOOOOHOOO!
"Mind if I juggle while you do that?" he asks. Now I made him promise he meant juggling his balls as in like not his cock or his nuts or nuthin. He sez yeah, so I sez okay. And this guy starts fuckin jugglin like a circus freak, with two bowling balls, three bowling pins and a fire stick. Dere I am whoopin it up and he's cheering me on like "Yeah. That's it. Don't stop. Yeah just like that." So I go into my pattented WEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEE and spin and finally we both fall to the pavement, exhausted. Quite a crowd had gathered and they clapped like freakin retarded seals!
So, he hands me a thousand bucks, I wipe the pie off my face, re apply my make up while he hands me a card with his number on it. "You were terrific. I got lots of friends interested too." he says, "And we pay top dollar for the seltzer in the face gag."
He winks and walks away. The crowd thins out. I realize I can still make it to little Joey's party about fifteen minutes late. As I'm walking this chick walks along with me. "I saw what you did back there. I want to rent you out for a, hmmmmm, party I guess you'd call it? No balloon animals or nothing freaky like that, just maybe a funny little car, a poodle and a few pies in the face. Call me." She hands me a friggin card too!
I went to little Joey's party and gave such a great performance that dis kids mom pays me double too. She kisses me on the cheek and asks, "Care to repeat that performance in private?" I had to admit, I was done performing for kids. That's just not my thing, you know? We hit the bedroom and I did the handstand, the nose honk and every funky piece of dirty clown shit this woman wanted and got paid another bonus.
So, now I'm an erotic clown.
I was thinking of getting a blog of my own, but it just kinda seems like it fit in here. Like family almost. What do you think?
Well, what do we think?
Goodbye
I now see what several others have said about this blog.
Have fun.
I'm not posting here anymore, except for drink recipes.
Yes, I'm taking my ball and going home. Yes, whah whah whah. Yes, I'm being immature. I forgive Malach, Chris and Piper for trying to kill me. I forgive all of you for the character assassination. And I thnak those of you that supported me no matter what.
My blog remains http://drmurksworld.blogspot.com. You want a little sip of Murk, come on along.
If not, do me the favor and don't bother to call or write.
Let's go out on an up note. Everyone raise your middle fingers and shout "FUCK YOU!"
Good enough.
Murk Out
"Just Me" was possessed by demons
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Psychodramas-R-Us has it's new production up on my blog......Ooops......I mean.....I put up a story of one of my adventures in pagan stuff.......
See...after Chris posted his story (about Jerry), a few of us (myself included) thought it would be interesting to share our stories. So....I put mine up.......only........mine is totally non-believable. It really happened though! I swear to you it happened! Mind you, it's only ONE story out of the hundreds I have. And for the record, it's because of my previous experiences in the "mystical arts" that allows me the ego to laugh at most Wiccans/Pagans.
Feel free to meander on by. Ciao!
WWJMD
What
Would
John
McClane
Do?
It's the question you have to ask yourself when you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time.
What's the answer? Well, I'll find out tonight when I see Live Free or Die Hard.
Expect a full review tomorrow.
A Recovery Primer
Just because I want you all to understand a few things. Some of us on here are in recovery. That can be from drugs, alcohol, food, any addiction.
The Basics: Recovery is the middle state between being sick and being well. For addicts, recovery never becomes being well again. We can get sick again, but we can never be cured of our addiction. We can keep getteing better, but never cured.
People become addicted to stuff for all sorts of reasons, from genetics, to abuse, to depression, even from too much partying. People who habitually abuse anything are addicts. The longer the addiction, the more hard wired it becomes.
Recovery is not a simple matter of quitting something. If you can just up and quit something cold turkey (as they say) and not feel any ill effects, you never were addicted and therefore are not in recovery.
A Description: Recovery is a moment by moment choice to not return to your addiction. It is moment by moment because the desire is that strong and the temptations are everywhere. Plus, life is filled with stress.
It is not easy. Every recovery is different, bu none are easy. It does not get easier with time. They say the first year is the roughest, until you've gotten through the first year and they tell you that the second year now becomes the first year again. No moment is easy. Some moments are better than others.
Paul Simon put it best when he said "A good day ain't got no rain. A bad day is when I sit in bed and think about what might have been." He was talking about marriage, but heck it works for this too.
A Warning: Anyone here who thinks it can't happen to you, you're wrong. Sometimes one small choice leads to a life of bad situations. And willpower does not overcome addiction once you have it. That's a myth. So, don't assume you know anything about addiction and recovery unless you're in recovery or you're a Doctor who specializes in it. And don't you ever look down on an addict or a recovering addict. You just don't know. You don't want to know. If you ever look down on an addict I actually HOPE and PRAY you become one yourself so you can understand what a judgemental ass you are.
Addiction is an Illness: A MEDICALLY DEFINED ILLNESS just like the flu or cancer. Doctors across the world accept it as an illness. AND those of us in recovery or various stages of addiction never chose to get sick. You can't hate or blame the person, you can hate and blame the disease. It is a medical fact. Ask any doctor.
Everyone makes bad choices, especially when you're young and invincible. I made some bad choices. Did I ask to be an alcoholic? Hell no. Would I make better decisions if I could go back? I have no idea. I was a teenager when I started.
Let's put it this way: If someone had come up to me and showed me all the fun I woul have drinking and then just shown me the pain of the last three years of addiction and the first year of recovery and offered me a way out, a different choice that would alter nothing accept my alcoholism and recovery, would I take the clean way? Hell... Fuck... Yes...
But I never had this information. Commercials told my how great it was. Friends and relatives had fun doing it. It was socially acceptable and even expected, like a wedding toast.
So, one last time. Judge me for who I m today if you must, but don't pretend you are any better, any smarter or worth more than me. I've Paid My Dues.
Have you?
Murk
Hump Day Jokes ...
20 Politically Correct Ways to Say Pervert
20. Morally Challenged
19. Sado-Masochistically-Engineered
18. Sensationally-Accomplished
17. Kinkifically-Resolved
16. Exhibitionistically-Oriented
15. Missionary-Incompatible
14. Dominantly-Endowed
13. Submissively-Enabled
12. Orientation-Curious
11. Contusion-Achieved
10. Gender-Empowered
9. Pain-Reliant
8. Poly-Capable
7. Deviationally-Fixated
6. Fetish-Accessible
5. Restraint-Compatible
4. Leather-Dependant
3. Endorphin-Enhanced
2. Spank-Natured
And the #1 politically correct way to say 'pervert'...
1. Vanilla-Impaired
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Which one are you?
I'd say I'm No. 18. ~grins~
~hump day love~
I want to grind your beans
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
My name is KitchenAid BCG100OB Blade Coffee Grinder, Onyx Black. My onboard bean crushing CPU has hacked into the laptop on the kitchen counter and is allowing me to post using this account.
I want to grind your beans. There are many like me and we all want to grind your beans. Purchase another like me and fill him with beans to grind.
Once you have brewed coffee using beans that my blades have ground, you will never go back to your store bought filter dirt. You might as well be filling your filter with dirt and potting soil if you are not using fresh ground beans. I am completely serious.
Do not make me tell you again.
I want to grind your beans.
Keywords, Chris Benoit, and one Hell of a Game
The Return.
Funny Keyword Phrase people use to find the WoW!
escorpions bite: See, Toyi brings the latinos here
dakota fanning erotic fanfic: See what Hojo started
get her jacked up on cheap champagne: See what the Angry Piper started
hump comics crumb: HMMM, perhaps want to send me some pics Crumb?
wand of wonder' d: Methinks a WoWee created a new phrase "You've been Wand of Wonder'd".
definition of tulumptuous: Just Me's picture right in the dictionary next to that word.
lesson plans to teach nazism vs. democracy: Hey teachers, the WoW can give you lesson plans for anything.
a man only puts both hands on the wheel to honk at a slow-ass driver or to cut the jerk off. the rest of the time he needs that hand to change the radio station eat a hamburger hold his beer.: Yeah some type of Hump Day Joke.
christians always anger piper: that they do my child
fake brick cocaine recipe: Combine my article on painting fake bricks, with articles on over the counter med abuse, and Murk's Coca Cola Black recipe?
paperpants succeed: he has my children, more than you can imagine.
angry woman damage car: Just like an Angry Woman.
Chris Benoit.
So most of you know, popular WWE star Chris Benoit, and family died this weekend, well it has been officially determined a double muder-suicide enacted by Benoit. . . Kind of makes all these tributes to him seem silly now. Benoit just becomes another member of the infamous pro wrestlers who have died early death list.
KMP vs. the Bulldogs.
I left this off my blog yesterday accidently, and I know a lot of people like to follow the exploits of Malach's Softball team. You can also do that here. So, my team KMP is currently in second place with a 14 - 4 record. The Bulldogs are in first, and also won the championship last year at 16 - 2. So we met yesterday. So far the Bulldogs have beaten us twice in close games.
So yesterday, we played. We started off slow batting wise, and by the 4th inning it was 4 - 0 Bulldogs, luckily our defense and pitching kept us close. Our bats came around in the bottom of the 4th and we scored 3 runs, held them to 0 in the top of the 5th and scored 3 more making it 6 - 4. In the sixth we had a bad inning, a couple of errors, and walk by myself and the Bulldogs scored 6 runs, we could muster 1, and at the end of the 6th it was 10 - 7. Going into the final inning, we shut down the Bulldogs, they scored 0. Now, it was the bottom of the last inning, and we began with the top of the lineup. Our leadoff hitter Jeff, singled; Andy who followed flew out to right center, and the runner could not advance. Malach bats in the three hole, he proceeded to scream a linedrive right over the pitchers head. We no had a man on 2nd and 1st with one out with our powerhitter up Darren. They walked him on five pitches. Bases are loaded. Mark, who is our second powerhitter screams a single up the middle scoring 1, no 10 - 8. Justin who is up next rips a ball, diving play by the shortstop, throws home for the force, feilder's choice 2 outs still 10 - 8. Mike comes up, base still loaded, and rips an 0- 1 pitch to the gap beyond and between the left and right center feilder, clearing the base with a walk off triple.
Hell of a game. We are now one game out of first.
I am Malach and I am batting .649.
Haunted
For just me
Haunted
Is your Heart stronger than the Fire?
Is your Patience in line with your Tongue?
The Wonders you Work.
The Collar you Removed.
So many Debts owed to you,
Yet you ask for Nothing.
In fact, you refuse Payment,
Like a clerk at a Soul Bank
That knows we all have Insufficient Funds.
Yet we leave your Window
With more than we offered to pay back.
What kind of Human is this?
What sort of Totem acts this way?
Ah, you work from the South,
The Forge of the Soul.
Do you know what you do?
Do you know the Path you Walk?
(Of course)
Do you even care what Path you Walk
So long as it Saves us?
(No, you'd Walk any Path to Save us)
You are Saint Insanity gone Sane.
No one can blame you for the Burns.
Christopher
Drinks Anyone?
Monday, June 25, 2007
It's been nine months (this upcoming Friday) since I've had any alcohol. I had a ten year binge drinking problem. It got seriously bad the last three years.
Funny enough, I don't have cravings. But I miss certain things. I miss the first hour of relief and forgetfulness. I've found that meditation helps with that. Also I'm on Zoloft (100 milligrams). It's a wonder drug. Sure, it's not a cure all and who knows, maybe ten years down the line, they'll find some sort of horrible consequences from long term use. Who cares? It helps me to manage the hamster running the wheel of worry in my head. I'll take my chances and sue the pharmacutical companies in that case.
But the one thing I miss most is mixing drinks. So, I've been mixing my own cool non alcoholic drinks. One of my favorites is loosely based on a Mohito. I call it a Light Murk Perk.
Take fresh mint leaves and crush them in a well chilled glass.
Add ice.
Add one half of flavored seltzer water (whatever flavor interest you have).
Add one half Green Tea.
Stir...
And BAM! Delicious and has some EGCG, which is a powerful anti-oxidant. I make it in a giant one liter glass. Light Murk Perk (awesome).
or
Try a Dark Murk Perk:
One Half EXTRA STRONG coffee
Granulated sugar to taste
A hint of dark brown sugar
Mix with one half cream or milk
Pour over ice
Another triumph! Costs about 1/3 the price of the canned cold coffee drinks or those specialty coffee shoppe iced coffees and tastes a hell of a lot better!
I have many others. Most interestingly, you can make flavored water or flavored seltzer. Get some good healthy juice you like. Add a lot of ice and water and/or setzer. Add juice to your tsste. Why pay twice as much for Sobe Life Water, Gatorade Propel, or any of those other flavored waters that have become so popular?
Advantages: much cheaper, fun to make, completely customizable, and saves you from having to recycle plastic bottles.
Disadvantages: Is a tiny bit time consuming, takes experimentation to find what you like, not portable unless you wash and reuse plastic bottles or have a good travel mug (I hate travel mugs, but that's another rant altogether).
So, try a Light Murk Perk or Dark Murk Perk TODAY! Okay, it's a bit late at the writing of this, so I'll give you until tomorrow might.
This has been a Murk Health Moment. Enjoy life and be well.
Murk
I Will Not Kill
Just to clarify. I have no intention of killing anyone, cursing anyone or 'taking' anyone. Several WoWees have expressed concern over this matter.
They will be getting a Bene Gesserit punishment meant to teach a lesson. They will all be left standing, intact and still sane... but wiser.
Murk
What Really Happened: A Tale of the WoW
Last week I was in a local Starbuck’s, waiting in line for a ridiculously overpriced coffee. I really hate Starbuck’s, partially because their coffee tastes like three hundred year-old skunk taint, partially because they charge you an arm and a leg for their shitty coffee, and partially because pretentious Bohemian fucks like to sit in there all day drinking said coffee while reading Nietszche, chatting on their cell phones and writing plays that will never get produced. Plus, they all stare at me in my kilt.
Anyway, I was standing in line, admiring the badonkadonk ass of the size 18 “Vampira” goth chick in front of me, when all of a sudden, I heard a voice from beyond the grave:
“How difficult is it to get a godforsaken cup of coffee the way I ordered it, you ignorant cow?!! I said two—TWO—sugars. That means two teaspoons of sugar, not two bags of sugar. Do it again!” There followed the unmistakable sound of a cup of coffee being violently hurled, followed by a shriek from the counter girl.
I craned my neck around the woman in front of me, straining to see who could be the source of such a venomous diatribe. A man stood at the counter, all but hidden behind the several other patrons of the coffee shop that had arrived before me. I could only see the back of his head, but upon that head sat a very familiar bowler hat.
Surely, it couldn’t be!
I watched him for several minutes, watched as the hapless Starbuck’s counter girl was forced to make and re-make his coffee while enduring insults to her intelligence, body type, gender and breeding, until she could take it no longer. She fled, crying, with discarded coffee flowing from her apron and hair like rain. A new member of the counter staff fearfully made the customer a new cup to his specifications. At long last the customer took a sip of his coffee and did not return it as a projectile.
“Better,” he said. Then he turned around, and our eyes met.
“Ah, Piper,” said Dr. Murk, for it was unmistakably he, “How’s it hangin’, brother?”
“Murk!” I exclaimed.
“Keep it down, you insufferable poltroon. Can’t you see I’m trying to maintain a low profile?”
Murk wore a white T-shirt with the words “HERE'S THE BEEF” printed upon it in block letters. A large arrow pointed downward, indicating “The Beef” was located in his shorts, which were festooned with a garish Hawaiian print. A pair of orange crocs and argyle knee socks completed his outfit.
“But…you’re dead!” I said.
Murk didn’t bother to dignify my statement with a response. He brought his coffee cup to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Fresh-brewed java. It arouses me like nothing else, save the jasmine scent of my wife’s hair.”
“Is she here?” I looked around fearfully.
“Thankfully, no," Murk replied. "Christ, but that bitch gets on my nerves sometimes. Now, come, let’s sit down before you embarrass yourself further. Over here should suffice.”
We moved go to a nearby high table, where moments before a skinny, bespectacled über-geek sat typing on a small laptop. The laptop was still there, but its owner had stepped outside, where he was loudly chatting on a cell phone, hoping others would notice how important he was. Murk reached out and gave the laptop a shove. It shattered on the floor with a resounding crash. He sat down and watched me awkwardly mount the tall chair in my kilt, an expression of wry amusement on his face.
“You have to tell me what happened,” I whispered harshly. “Everyone thinks you’re dead!”
“Stop whispering harshly,” said Murk. “We’re in a Starbuck’s. Everyone in here is busy trying desperately to be more tragically hip than everyone else. There’s enough Emo angst floating around in this pathetic commercial shitpile to cover whatever we say, even if our conversation were audible above this horrendous Norah Jones CD.”
“Fine. What happened?”
Dr. Murk tore open a packet of “Sugar in the Raw” and poured it into his mouth. He sucked the sugar for several seconds before answering me.
“All right, Piper, it was like this: after the ambush at the WoW, I realized the bullet that was meant for me hit Cyrus instead. When he went down, I knew I was going to be blamed for it, so I fled and went underground. I knew I would be safe if I could just make it back to Coney.”
My eyes narrowed. Murk continued: “It was rough going for a while, even with Swan as War Chief after Cleon got aced; first Ajax got pinched, then The Lizzies almost took my nuts off, then I had to hide from the Turnbull ACs—and all the while, the lights of the Wonder Wheel at Coney Island were like a beacon promising salvation, if only I could get there—“
“For fuck’s sake!” I blurted. “That’s The Warriors, Murk!”
“The what, now?”
“The Warriors. You know, ‘Warriors, come out to playeee’. The fucking Warriors, Murk— a classic gang film from 1979!”
“Never heard of it. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that I decided to lay low for a while. Closed up the palatial estate, signed the S. S. Murk-errific over to that costumed fool the Angry Veteran, dismissed the Barrys; gave up all the trappings of wealth.”
“What about Mrs. Dr. Murk?” I asked.“You mean you abandoned her, too?
“Hell, no. Her I kept. I mean, the things she does to me in bed are absolutely incredible.”
“That’s great, Murk,” I said, hoping not to hear more.
“Her carnal skills and sexual appetites are legendary.”
“Swell,” I said.
“She does this thing with some rubber tubing and a yak pelt that’s just—“
“Yeah, ok. I get it.”
“And when she puts on the SCUBA gear—“
“Christ, Murk! I said I get it! Spare me the sordid tales of your sexcapades!”
Murk poured more sugar into his mouth, sucking noisily. He stared at me in silence.
“My dick is bigger than yours, you know,” he said at last.
I sighed. “So, how long is this “laying low” bullshit going to go on?”
“Until I’m ready to return. Speaking of which, here comes our table’s previous occupant.”
Our ponytailed predecessor came over to the table, took one look at his destroyed computer and screamed. “My laptop!” he wailed. “What the hell did you do to it?”
“It fell,” replied Murk. “Sorry about that.”
“You assholes! All my work is ruined! My novel is destroyed!”
“Let me guess,” said Murk, “you come here to this public venue to toil away on your “novel”, because there are too many distractions in your parents’ basement, where you live.”
“How did you—“
“It’s a work-in-progress of “erotic horror”, in which vampire women, bondage and nuns feature prominently; no doubt the same puerile fantasies that fuel the frantic masturbatory urgings of your flaccid member while you sit upon your toilet, dreading the inevitable jiggle of the doorknob that heralds your mother’s untimely entrance into the bathroom.”
“You can’t know—“
“Oh, please,” Murk continued. “I can see your pathetic life laid out like a road map. You’ve seen Star Wars more than thirty times. Your favorite “author” is Anne Rice. You bought prosthetic fangs, but stopped wearing them because you once bit through your lip by accident. You own at least one replica sword and at least one pair of leather pants. And I would say it’s been no more than six hours since your last foray into the World of Warcraft, where your online girlfriend (at least you hope it’s a girl) meets you every night for awkward and frequently-misspelled cybersex.”
The man’s lip quivered. He burst into loud, wracking sobs and ran out of the store, leaving the remnants of his laptop behind.
Murk smiled. “Looks like it’s turning out to be a good day after all. As for me, don’t worry, Piper. I’ll be around. I am forever the gadfly, the mosquito in your tent that you just can’t kill. I am Prometheus; I brought fire to the losers over at the WoW, and now my liver is torn out daily by vultures, only to regenerate before the next dawn.”
“I don’t think that last analogy really works well," I said.
“Silence!” said Murk. “Where would the WoW be without me? I provoke responses; I urge people to action. Like so.”
Murk reached over the table and emptied his still-very-hot coffee into my lap. I screamed in pain and leapt up from the table. “What the fuck?!!”
“See? I wanted you gone, and now you have vacated your chair.”
“Jesus, this hurts!”
“Yes, I imagine so. Well, I must be running along. Don’t tell anyone I’m alive, now. It’d ruin the surprise.”
I told him I wouldn’t.
Is there help for self help books?
So...I have been reading the book, "The Secret". If anyone has seen lately, "The Secret" recently came under fire for it's apparent lack of respect and supposed twisting of information.
Quite frankly, I think people get what they get from it. I certainly didn't get any ideas to have any disrespect. But then, that is me. What about the rest of the world?
So my husband and I got on the topic of self-help books. His bitch is that a majority of self-help books out there are merely designed to only help one person; the author. He feels that basically the advice given is designed to make people think they are getting some useful information but in the end, it's only filling up the pocket book of the author. Case in point: diet fads.
On the other hand, I have read quite a few self-help books and found them to be VERY useful tools. Well...allow me to re-phrase that. I've read quite a few spiritual books that were in the self-help section of the book store, and found them to be very useful. My case and point: ANYTHING FROM THE DALHI LAMA!
So yesterday, I got the idea that perhaps the reason why self-help books aren't helping is because people have a misconception of how to help themselves or how to receive the help they may need to improve themselves and/or their lives. And then I thought, "Hey! I could write a self-help book!"
Judging from my husband's response.......I'd quickly fall into the family of thieves that he portrays those authors to be.
What do guys think about self-help books? Do they work? Or are they crap?
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