If ONE Reprint Is Good (And, Judging From Your Reactions To My Most Previous Post, It Seems To Have Been So) Then NINE Is Even Better!

Well, you got through the title; that's half the battle. Now here's the rest of it.

I don't have anything new for you today.

(I should just have that as a pop-up. I could schedule it to appear once every ten or twelve times you visit here and save us both some trouble. I wouldn't have to type anything and you could immediately go on your way to more interesting stuff. For instance, THIS.)

Since I don't have anything new, then that leaves... Borrowed? Blue?

Nope. Old. As in moldy. Like really good cheese! Or really bad cheese! Who can tell?

Anyway, see, I have this thing that I refer to as my "Greatest Hits" section. It's on the sidebar under the entirely egomaniacal title Some Stuff I'm Proud To Have Written. I could have thrown these things in there and nobody would have been any the wiser. However, since I had nothing better to bore you with today, I decided to trot them out here into the open and make them do their pitiful little dances for you yet again.

Some of these pieces are of such a recent vintage that you almost assuredly will say, "Yo, Jim! What's the dealio? I was here four weeks ago and already saw this post. Are you so bereft of ideas that you have to drag Blog River for bodies you disposed of such a short time back that they're not even decomposed yet?" The answer, of course, is "Duh! Yes!", but this is where I'm supposed to make up some sort of BS to assure you that, from now on, I'll bring nothing but fresh meat to the table. OK, what the heck.

From now on, I guarantee that there will be nothing posted here that is not new, fresh, exciting, original, and otherwise entirely unlike every other thing I've written previously!

(I don't believe it; no reason why you should.)

Anyway, without any further ado (because ado gotta do what ado gotta do) here are 9 more pieces that probably don't qualify as truly superior writing, but (when graded on a curve against everything else I've ever written) at least don't make me want to hang myself when I re-read them.

MARY ANN FROM GILLIGAN'S ISLAND, WITH A CAPTION THAT SAYS, "OOOOH, SULDOG, LICK ME AGAIN", PLEASE

Absolute filth, thinly disguised as social satire. If you have any moral sensibilities whatsoever, you should avoid this. I'm serious. It is easily the rudest and most obscene thing I have ever written. And I will not be held responsible for the image that will be burned into your memory from reading the third-to-last sentence of the thing.

IT'S A STUPID GUY THING

The title? Truth in advertising. Read. Laugh. Pity Me. Pity MY WIFE even more.

(But the desk? Fuck the desk!)

THIS STORY HAS NO POINT, NOR DOES IT HAVE A CLIMAX, AND IF YOU LOOK FOR EITHER YOU WILL BE SEVERELY DISAPPOINTED

You don't truly expect any further explanation, do you?

THE THEORY OF RELATIVITY EXPLAINED IN LESS THAN 1,500 WORDS

And I don't play on the word "relativity" even ONCE by referring to my in-laws! Do you have any idea how much restraint it took for someone as corny as me to resist that temptation?

TALES FROM THE KITCHEN OF CHEF DUMBASS

Hee-Hee! Cake all over the walls!

THE DANGERS OF SNIFFING GLUE

It's about shoes, mostly. However, there is a character named Jesus Of Nazareth in it.

(Now, see, that would intrigue me. You? I don't know.)

CERTIFIABLE? I CAN ONLY HOPE!

Not even so much as a form letter in return. I humiliated myself for nothing.

(Well, that's not entirely true. I got to see how much I can look like a deranged old pervert without really trying.)

INSTEAD OF THE USUAL FIGURATIVELY, TODAY MY WRITING LITERALLY STINKS

Ooh, smelly...

PA & THE BIG FISH

An actual true story concerning my grandfather. The number of cats is approximate.

22 PUNCHLINES IN SEARCH OF A PLAYWRIGHT

To the best of my knowledge, they didn't find one.

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And that's that. I am now going to go wrap my head in mackerel. I know that sounds fishy, but it's the truth. Or a lie; I forget. Anyway, de gustibus non est disputadum, as my grandfather used to say to the minister every time he lit up his crack pipe during a sermon.

Soon, with more better stuff.