Monthly Archives April 2006

John Titor Fan Fiction: The Accidental Nap

John Titor’s machine was gravity based and would allow him to travel back to the time he needed to go.  However, one day while “rewinding” (he was trying to watch someone type in a password into the IBM he was about to obtain 10 minutes into the future) a black hole shot an anti- ray right onto his machine (like a reverse disco ball) thus disabling the Gravity Sensor Unit and throwing him sideways onto another timestrip that was a phantom strip but one that kept going, like a fart that never leaves.

Anyhoo, he found himself in the year 1999 and was giggling over the y2k hype, not knowing he was on a phantom timestrip.  “The sky will be falling from now on,” he thought and went to an internet café and tried to log onto his email account but kept failing. 

Finally, he went to ...

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A CD from a Tapas Restaurant

Two guys walk by a guy who is building a fort out of toothpicks and is in the stage of finding something small enough to enjoy the fort.  One guy says, “Hey, why is taking Mo so long to make a cd?”  The other guy says, “Because he can’t find an animal willing to enjoy his newly varnished fort.”

I can send you free is a cd compilation that I received to promote a show that started with my bass player saying,

200px-Johan_Olov_Wallin.jpg  “Hey Mo, this guy wants us to play at his restaurant and will feed us and pay us.   It’s on a Monday and they want to make a cd of the bands playing just to promote the shows.”

prospect2.jpg “ok”

The Saturday before the show I was walking in the neighborhood of the venue and looked inside...

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A Treasure of Crap

Still sick.  How bloggy of me.  I think I’m grinding my teeth in my sleep and in the process I’m milling/mining some mercury and thus making myself a most incredible moron.  There’s more to it than lame excuses I’m sure but that’s a good one I think.

I love lists.  I really enjoy crafting my setlist before a show.  I love watching my grandmother make a grocery list for me.  It’s well thought out and the handwriting is shaky and in cursive.  She usually verbally adds souse because I think she knows its bad for her (souse is a cold cut made from pig snouts).  VH1 goes shithouse on lists.  What?  What I thought was brilliant wasn’t?  What was I thinking?  Lists are quick and factual.  It’s good that I like doing my taxes.  It’s bad that I’ll allow myself to look at inane lists

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Sick of being Sick

I’m sick today.  I hate being sick.  I can’t concentrate on anything except headaches and coughing.  I got it on the plane yesterday.  I should start wearing a mask on the plane so that I don’t get sick or get others sick.  A full-hooded mask.  “Hey, I’m cool.  I’m just sick.  And polite.”

I started writing today and ended up with a stupid poem called “Fat Balling”.  I deleted it.  I can’t write sick.  I’m a moron plus sick.


My Aunt Lilly makes birthday phone calls as it is her hobby.  She also calls the local radio station to remind them to say happy birthday, also.  I had her call my roommate for his birthday and I think this is how it went:

“happy birthday to you happy birthday to you happy birthday i love you happy birthday to you.”

“Thanks, Lilly.  How are you?”


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Dallas Fan Fiction: Working on My Belfast Accent at a Pub on Greenville Avenue at a Bring In The Weekend Party

This guy named Cliff? used to work at Taffy’s on Good Latimer? but then gave up on yelling every time he started the pulling machine? so he got fired? But then by mistake? he loaded the machine backwards? and it started brushing against the newspaper stand? so that it took the print off like a piece of silly putty would? but then would stay on? and somehow the print wouldn’t stretch? and so the pieces of taffy afterward had printing on them? and his boss started calling him Gutenberg? but with a Trenton, NJ accent? even though he was already fired? and he worked there for another year? even though he wasn’t supposed to? and then he moved to Waxahachie? but he couldn’t drive to work? so he got a job selling cookies at the Scarborough Fair?  and he liked that better?


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The Man in the Vellum Pants

These guys were doing chores on a farm and the one guy had plastic pants to keep his other pants from getting dirty.  The devil himself would see him and would shake his head saying, “At least I’m not that guy.”  He wasn’t THE devil but a rockabilly guy who had a devil on his lighter.  But the plastic panter was good at making piles.  Really good at it.  He numbered his piles and marked each one as if it were a garden of piles.  He even kept a log of the piles with a vellum paper map attachment.  The maps were transparent enough to see the history of the pile placement.  Luckily, the owner of the farm enjoyed seeing such documentation and contacted a publisher of almanacs about his employee.  The publisher laughed and hung up...

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