Flavored Hay Balls

Nice Tool

Woody's Wish

Human Week

Getting a glimpse of Homo sapiens is a rare treat, as they are poorly adapted for ocean survival. Notice the futile, desperate writhing which accelerates blood flow while the salt water prevents clotting. Their skeletal structure offers little resistance and their nervous system is so primitive they likely don’t feel a thing….

How Refrigeration Works

Demotivator

Camping Journal V

If we had an M-50 mounted on top of this car we could camp wherever the fuck we wanted.

Just throw it in that crack right there.
That’s what she said.

Well, this is fucking Maupin!

That bird is its own rap group.

Careful of that jewelry box; we don’t know what she considers jewelry- a partially polished turd…

Hopefully she wasn’t expecting any privacy with her friend that’s coming to visit tonight.

I walked in and thought, “That’s weird the front door’s unlocked,” and then some dude said, “Hi!”

Wow, more players than we knew.

I was trying to keep my hair out of my chewing. It was only partially successful. I’m gonna cough up a hairball tomorrow morning.

What? She’s making a cemetery?

Usually you want your gutters to be more horizontal.

We have contact with Dick.
I love having contact with Dick.

Good thing about Maupin: You’re never more than 50 feet from someone who will let you camp in their backyard.

Oregon: Thank god it’s beautiful because otherwise it’s worthless.

His parents were like, “There was this penguin that’s been every place and seen some things so they bring it from the trestles with a life jacket on and a helmet over its head and some cop cut it open and filled its boat with stuffing."

It was horrible- he had trucks and toilets back here.

Hopefully it’s a lot worse in the Enchantments.

I just want to cradle you for not being a knucklehead.

You're unusually agreeing, Andrew.
I'm sadly black man from the what?

There’s nothing pretty or interesting but this is getting pretty dull.

I was writing in the dark with a belly full of whisky, and things got illegible. Amazingly, I managed to decipher all but one line, which I have included in its original form. Let me know if you can figure it out!



I don’t know what else there is to do in Wasco County.

Either you gotta do this every day or never do it again.

The ‘bow was… retarded.

What were you guys talking about when I was in the tent and your reply was, “We’ll have to take a little spin.”?

Two dudes and a patrol boat spent five minutes with me for nothing.

Daddy Jeremy, buy us a cheese pizza!

I don’t want to be on a douche bag raft though.
Well then we can’t be on a raft with Andrew.

Dick is all about beer and ladies.

We’ll give it the old college fraternity try.

I think this campground’s full of tools.

Pay to listen to butt rock?

Dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick

Dick fishes in Blue Hole.

Your mom isn’t sealed.
She is broken.
I can’t hear you. Actually I can but I’m just not listening.

Step 1: Shave the patient.
Step 2: Make the boobs hang out.

Outhouse backsplash- worst thing ever.

That was tots awesome!

He’s a pentapus.
That just sounds pornographic.

His shirt is tucked into his crack.
That just made my whole trip.

Oh Jake you have the midget chair.
It’s the righteous chair.
Does this chair make me look fat?

I see my name. Is that the scorekeeping sheet? I thought you were writing something nasty about me.

I thought I heard my name.
I heard “gay.”
Yeah, that’s me.

Where’d you go, toonsins?

I lost my green nipple and everything.

I love coming from behind.
Oh now you just turned it dirty.

I want to capture the moment: Before 6 nieces. After 6 nieces.

“I felt like I was literally sitting on God’s front porch.”

Thanks for backing me up on that stupid ass statement.

That’s a little too close-up. I don’t want to see it that close.

All you have to do is roll the dice and lose to Sandy.

I’m going to keep saying, “Daddy Jeremy buy me a cheese pizza” until he actually does.
It would be easier to chop your head off with my hatchet.
I was gonna offer to buy you one to shut you up but if he’s willing to chop your head off even better.

You’ve been taking your cues from under the Burnside Bridge.

RIGHTEOUS DUDE BRAH

I’ve got the power of the drifter now.

WHOA!

Chips go well with chili.
That’s true, but it’s dangerous on your jeans.

This parking lot is going to be nothing but chock full of reggae blaring cars.

I’m not a cracker connoisseur or anything but these are the greatest crackers of all time.

I’ll show you squeak, motherfucker.
Promise?

Those are the fat-girl-come-get-me pants.

We’ll flip for heads and tails.

I don’t know how you ever stopped at 800. That’s very un-Jake like.

I think the little fucker’s fucking with us. You being the other fucker.

That’s your excuse for everything.
It’s Maupin.

S’s are for aretards.

We’re almost there with the chili.
I’ve heard that before.

Andrew hearts death.

Ha you douched your pants.

Chip lifeguard- I need you.

There’s something hard in there.

Who won? Andrew? Damn it!
I like it when nice people win.

Why does Andrew do any of the things that he does?

I don’t want a chip in my crotch, thanks.
Beavers like chips too.

The sky’s really ugly right now.

I should stop with this chili.
That’s what Sandy’s thinking.

I see your lover’s intestines and I raise you one chip with four beans on it.

Hey Jeremy, where’s your tool?

I see a flying head.
No that’s just me.

That helps my loser ass.
Yeah it does.

I have so many fucking layers on right now.

We don’t mind if you puke on Jake.

You and God can go homo out together.
You’re complimenting God.
Right now, he wishes he was gay.

Wow that was worth the 18 ounces of gas.
Not to mention the gallon of gas it took to get Andrew’s flashlight here.
Your ass is gonna make a nice cap for your light.

I don’t know I was just trying to figure out whether I was looking at the sun or Andrew’s flashlight.

Everything in my hand and this one is not in my hand.

I am like patience encapsulated.
What is it a one-ounce vial?
I was being generous.

I am going to go write in my journal.
Do not invite Andrew camping ever.

Star gazing cancelled due to douche bag friend.

Until it’s waterlogged, duct-taped to your body on the bottom of the Deschutes.

I think Andrew’s just taking superfluous rolls now.

I was looking for squealing nieces. What’s wrong with that?

All I heard was split in three and your mom.
What else did you need to hear?

Your mom’s a mess after last night.

I love the sound of a generator first thing in the morning.

Should I go get a newspaper? ‘Cause you look like you could use one.

You might find kicking Sandy to be much more satisfying. Just an observation.

You lost your balls now that you’re sober?

They don’t say much when they’re unconscious.
You don’t police your mouth very well.

How many beers have you had?
Two.
You are an embarrassment to Maupin.

I could douche.
You could douche?
It’s French for shower.
Vagina shower!

Camping Journal IV

(Key-Sea House July 5-7, 2009)

If you set it down for a minute I’m gonna burn that fucker.
Is that for all the brilliant things we say?
Brilliant’s a stretch.

I was using the binoculars to look at Sandy and Jeremy mostly.
Sandy’s ass?
It’s fine.
You wouldn’t really need binoculars though.

This isn’t gonna be a survival story.

Hey Sandy- what did you say that was funny five minutes ago?

Hope you like Yachats!

I have a long way to go before getting back at you for the big ass comment earlier.

I can’t believe I missed that ONE opportunity of hearing Andrew being an asshole.
It’s like Haley’s comet.

It’s somewhere between a cloud and rain.

Jake has a jump rope.
I’ve never seen his jump rope.

WOW. Things are getting nutty.

So... it turns out your mom does like me.

In only 3 more hours Ann and Carl will be here.
Just don’t think about it.

I like your hood.
Jeremy made a funny.
It’s so soft- have you guys touched it?

What’s up Jer-Bear?
That’s what my mom calls him!
Yeah, but I like it better when she says it.

I brought a slingshot- I want to see how far I can shoot a rock into the water.

Mosquitoes have some weird genitalia.

I’m unna shut up now.
Whatever.

No one’s looking except our wives.
We’re not going to be looking; we’re going to be busy.

I like you.
I like Sandy.
I like me.

Is that why you club baby seals?
Because they’re there. And dirty.

Marshalltown is like the unwashed sprouts of Iowa.

Don’t fuck with Leo.

Don’t accidentally shove your head in the fireplace.

Just use rubbing alcohol.
Just rub it and drink alcohol.

Carl the humping ghost.
Carl the extra-friendly ghost.

It’s a drippy cheater.
It’s a blabbermouth cheater.
Just give it a good yank.

She’s reference use only, Carl.
You have to leave her in the library.

ARE YOU PUTTING A BLANKET ON YOURSELF?!?!?!

I need to deliver some tea.

She went out to find “service.”
Because apparently I’m not doing my job.
What’s your job?
Oh that- I’m still waking up.

What lame thing are you going to write now?

There were these cheerleader mermaids with cheese pizza and beer offering handjobs.

Coffee and Jenga- the perfect storm.

Think outside the pepper.

That’s how Jesus plays Jenga.
Or yoda.

There’s a lot of love going on here this morning.
It’s making me sick.
I love Jer-Bear.
Jer-Bear’s Hair Care.

Carl, I’m going to shove this so far up your ass….
Yes! Sandy does want to do me!

Please refrain from shitting in the toaster.

I have flaccidity function.

It’s like a flamingo threw up in there.

Brokeback Devil’s Backbone

He left the house with nothing but assless chaps.
Are you sure he’s going fishing?
Stink bait.

Tell them about the time I raped you in the bedroom just now.

That’s Carl’s make-shift masturbatorium.
He’s playing solitaire.

There’s nothing funny about the truth.

Okay, are you ready for my vagina now?

I’ve got dominoes in my pants.

I’m sorry about your structure, Jeremy.

Bring me my lemming.

I don’t know; I’ve got a pain in my ass and I don’t know what it is.

I stepped in horse shit- what’s your excuse?

THE KEY-SEA HOUSE IS FOR LOVERS

Hard like me for your mom.

Jesus Christ Choir Boys

Iceburgs suck. Period.

Hey Ann wanna make a Sandywich?

It sucks like it blows- it is not a lolly hobby.

I’ll stick you with me.

I thoroughly enjoyed the time we had together- mostly when we were humping.

Okay see you next y….

What’s that? Oh, I thought I felt something.

You don’t have to try.

You got your lettuce, you got your hot shit.

Projectile shitting out of my head.

Who wants to play the part of the baby seal?
If it involves duct tape, bungee cord and carabiners I can do it.

Classical Music

Technology Dependence

Cartoons

A couple of doodles I made today (while waiting for a UPS truck):






The car squeeling to not crash is usually me....

Delusion

I know enough about drumming that I can highlight the flaws of every drummer (Buddy Rich lacked subtlety; Max Roach lacked chops…). Furthermore, since I no longer play drums, I can declare once and for all that I am the greatest drummer of all time. It’s too bad that my best performances weren’t recorded so that one day, more discriminating and advanced cultures can discover my under-appreciated and under-recognized genius. I can only reminisce at my former greatness and cringe at the pathetic excuses for drummers I hear today. I tried to teach, but frankly it was beneath me. Like any good teacher, I sought to motivate my students with the fear that they really weren’t worth my time, which was true. It’s a shame, really, that I will never be able to appreciate music with drumming again, as I am constantly distracted by the burden of having the ability to do a better job than whomever the drummer is. But alas, since I see no point in actually picking up my drumsticks ever again, I guess I will just have to grudgingly settle for the plebiance of everybody else.

Yo-Yo

I can't imagine mastering the skills involved here without a clearer understanding of who's going to be impressed.

-Calvin (Bill Watterson)

Geni

I just found out that according to geni.com my name is Dennis Kelso. I live in Nebraska, my mom is named Norma and my wife is Janet. There's so much useful information on the internet! It doesn't know how old I am, however. Rats; I wanted to find out how long I've gone without being aware of these extremely fundamental facts....

Camping Journal III

Excerpts from a camping trip with friends a few weeks back. I hadn’t realized my camping journal was almost full, so I spent the weekend running around looking for scraps of paper to write on or trying to remember what was said until something was found. Upon review, it seems the funny stuff all got forgotten....


That shirt is too tight around my chest.
Give it to Sandy.
The small boob jokes aren’t going to make sense until Ann gets here.

Oh my god; my ass is numb!
Really? We haven’t even started!

Had that old after the beer shoot the shit.

Those people weren’t enjoying my jokes at all.
Just tell them, “Your life is in my hands. Laugh or die.”

The lady on my boat was a parole officer. Jeremy might know her.

Have there been people born with horns?

The best thing about Carl is his parents.
They might be the best thing about me as well.

Chaco’s are hard on me.

Somebody somewhere knows how many sperm are in a teaspoon.
How many are in your mouth?

It’s a $40 t-shirt.
Is it pee resistant?

It’s pretty; I’d like to eat it.

This river is wet!

They eat some of the kids.
Sloppy Joe’s on the menu every Friday. Do they have to give the last names, though?

Are girls harder?
Boys are harder several times a day.

I love the weenies.

If it’s something they’re saying over and over again about your vagina they’ll get in trouble for it.

She’s a task-ks master

Who’s marionberry? Isn’t he the mayor or something?

Are you aware that you have a pencil in your pants?

I only heard mulberries and ass.

I’m on medication.
It’s not that funny.
It might be in a few hours.

The Missionary position reminded me of this:

I’m having puppies!
Why, did she do a dog?

No one really laughed on the boat today- again.
They thought it was funny eventually.

God loves raspberries. Who doesn’t?
Communists, that’s who.

Size does matter, it turns out.
I took that personally.
I knew you would.

White gas reminds me of my childhood.

Strip poker- I win even if I lose. Show up naked. There’s no place to go but up.
Dress poker?

Everybody panic!
No death’s cool.

Do “your mom” jokes ever make sense?
Sometimes and then it’s a zinger.

What do you want from me? I’ve already had half a bottle of whiskey.
My expectations were already low.

Next time you kill me, would you give me a little more notice?

She has an acupuncturist. I have a polygrapher. That’s what keeps the relationship alive.

Are you writing down the polygamy?

Sticky like the McGregors.
It came from Marshalltown; of course it’s sticky.

I can’t put it in the hole.
That’s what she said.

I am going to go talk to your mom about raping buses.

There’s a pretty healthy, um, didn’t mean to look….

That little fricker fricked me!
Oh, yeah, Carl will help you.

That guy at the campsite next to us reminds me of my dad.
A homosexual?

Thank you I like coconuts. They smell like, when drying in the sun, like tarter sauce.

No Tourret’s for me thank you.

My joy factory hurts.
You shouldn’t do that with your joy factory.
My joy factory’s exploding.

Would it be okay if I said out loud that Carl’s an asshole and Ann’s a bitch?

There’s a lot of good things about Portland but Carl’s not one of them.

I just figured out your husband’s the luckiest man ever! He’s got a four-legged pussy, a three legged pussy and a two-legged pussy.

His name’s Romaine.
Is he a noodle?
He’s lettuce, dipshit, get it right.

All I’d use a camera phone for would be to take pictures of my cats and other pussies in compromising positions.

He’s in alcohol’s hammock right now.

Just let me know when I’m overwhelming.

He can’t even say the word without having sex with it.

Careful, Andrew’s recording your every word.

Okay, now I can officially call you a douche bag.

It was the other seasonal staff; the control side. There was something growing in that crew.

It was a Swiss Army vehicle.
It was invisible.
Wonder Woman drove it.

If you can land it in this donut I’ll give you $1.50 and the donut.

Smile like a donut.
Artistically?
Grrooss

Aww you’re such a snugglepuss. Oh wait, now I’m just being molested.

All roads are a crossroads- sometimes you just don’t see the intersection.

Spaniards are hairy and they stink.

Why save the money when you can buy booze with it?

I like pet parades.

Pitch spork.

What would you like to do ideally?
Murder spree.

One man’s junk is another man’s coffee creamer.

Oh look he’s giving the puppy-dog face.
That gave me the creepy chills.

What do you call, no, who can you do, no, wait, how does it go?

Fucking goat heads.

Smells like up-dog.

Smells like good fooking.

It’s ambiguous day!

It rikas.

Why does the southwest have to be so far away?

I wish you squeezed me like that.
Lay down on the bench, baby.

Show ‘em your metal, dude.

Just think; they could be sitting here doing nothing right now.

Buy a new cheese, dude.

Ain’t much doin’ down here in Maupin.

Want me to tell you a story?
Will it be about a small animal dying?
Probably.

That is a whole lot more math than I am prepared to do right now.

They always fuck our plans up whether they’re jogging or not.

I would be kinda anti-climactical for you maybe.

If you’re heading towards the put-in….

Pardon my use of the word, but this is retarded.
In this case the word is entirely appropriate.

What’s scat?

I forgot about doggy-style.
Someone needs a reminder.

Crapbag Quilters.

A tattoo of a trout jumping at your worm…

I can’t believe you didn’t make a penis joke out of that.

Can you tell me what kind of wood this is?

The Sky Chairs are impressively comfortable.
They must be- they’re expensive and ugly.
No, you’re talking about the girls in the chairs.

Let me try it once. Here, hold my thing here.

Bingo therapy.

Andrew, why do you have one up and one down?

Everybody act synonymous.

Face and nuts; legs and arms- things that enter the body.

Are you deep-throating that flask?

Ahh, snuggle

It’s not as sexy coming from you.

My balls slapping the water don’t make as much noise as Jeremy’s.

Half of what I say is making fun of Carl.

Sprouts are dirty.

You’re the #1 cause of everything awful.

You get HIV from sprouts.

Carl, I’d like you to know that I have Asperger’s.
Ass burgers are gross.

You smell like fried cod. It’s a little Marshalltownesque.

Why are you touching my penis?
It’s wet.

No, don’t whip it out.
It barely whips.
If I trim my pubes it looks a lot longer.

Flask-on-flask action.

You’ve got to slow down, man; get more particular.

I like the forced pacing…
With your mom.

Get more what? Pussy?

What is wrong with you, girl?
Want a list?
Yes.
Your mother, the Pope, capitalism, I keep hanging out with you for some reason….

There’s that guy with the wet crotch area.

You didn’t see that, did you? Stop staring at me!

You need more paper.
I’ll be good; you guys aren’t that funny.

Serviceable, like your mom.

I wrote my mom. Doesn’t work the same. “Oh yeah, so’s my mom, oh wait….”

You’re fucking, girl.

Crying is the only way I can ever get laid.

When I die I want to become a Native American Spirit.
Jeremy always has My Mom withdrawl.

There’s high schoolers checking out my booze.

Hey, want to talk about composting toilets?
Uh, sure.

I don’t mind gelatinous and creamy.

Is that real?
It’s really in my hand about to enter your chest.

Please don’t start making out with your own arm.

Call me buddy once.
Buddyonce

I’m not in the mood, D bag.

A little Dirty Bird will do ya.

I hope that you’re Sandy because if you’re not, she’s right inside.

Don’t tear it; we owe double if you tear it.

This could have been a bereavement meal.
Andrew didn’t die, I’m a little bereaved about that.

This wouldn’t be a problem if we were in Mulligan’s in Cedar Falls.

She’s totally gonna hiccup!

Dustin Hoffman and your mom.

Tastes like rotten chicken.
Bubbly!

He’s already smashed his nuts once but I didn’t do it.

The power of pear.

Prower to the people. Fuck ‘em.

What do you do, upchuck in a womanly way?

Your bag has a boner.
That’s not what I said.
I know but I’m funnier than you.

Are you cheering for your own demise?

We couldn’t tell if it was your ass cheeks or your arms.

Flying Jesus, indeed.

I like to wear herpes.
Oh Sandy, can I smell like you tonight?
Ooh, I get to smell by me tonight too.

Do you guys know where I live?
No.
Good.

I’m an Egyptian Goddess.
That doesn’t seem like something you should have to announce.

Carl, does Maupin make you sick or is it just Abby?

They’re dirty like your mom.

Why buy something for $90 if you don’t love it?
Like a hooker.

Agave Maria

Carl, are you aroused? Oh shit, I’ll be right back….

Something about La Playa.

Everything alright in there?
Uh, yep, he’s aroused.

I don’t have a dick. Well I do, but I’m not that attached to it.

Didn’t you take sex ed.? Yes, but it wasn’t that thorough.

What do you do in that situation?
Well, I usually just play with my own penis.

I though you were a female alien. You eat in that hole? I’m sorry.

Carl’s funny; you’re annoying.

On the plus side, it makes me rub my boobs.
I love heartburn all of a sudden.

Also, you’re missing all of my funny jokes.
No I haven’t, I’m still waiting.

By lantern, I mean your mother.
Wah wah lost.

Andrew’s face is ugh.

I filled it, so now I’m filling random other things.

Nice spatulation.
Let’s spatulate.

Renewing my bowels? Vowels?

Axe- Lady Repellant.

Jesus walked on water- the son of Jesus could read.

The son of Jesus is like the son of Godzilla.

I’M HILARIOUS!

Cotton kills!

How deep is that there?
We can all see it’s pretty deep. It’s a little inappropriate to ask when she’s in that position. You should probably just find out for yourself.

First Abby humped the boat, now it’s Sandy’s turn.

Hey Jeremy, want to do this?
Was she pointing at her crotch when she said that?

I almost got killed by a wooden stake, which is actually the only way you can kill me.

What makes you so growly?
I’m half bear.

Turn around- you look cute in your undies.

Everybody loses except for me- I still win.

Ann shoved me into a tree.
Then stop being an asshole.

You just did it by being hilarious.

How about a hug?
How about a fuck off?

I don’t know whether to shit or smile.
Or start stabbing.

Fun with Funnnies

The daughter of Jesus couldn’t read, she was illiterate.

I saw a beaver over there.
Was it Sandy’s?

Powdered cheese- is there anything better?

That cotton belt might be saving your knife right now but it will be taking your life later.

I need your squishy part to be longer.
Megs said she needs my squishy part to be longer.
No comment.

I was going to hold it above you and drop it into your abdomen. I’m sure it wouldn’t have hit any major organs.
Do you have any major organs?
Not anymore.

He can watch it for a long time because there’s a lot of action in there.
He should see my bedroom.

It’s funny because it’s a lie.

That snake is as big as mine.

I just realized I haven’t done a cartwheel in a skirt today!
Good, I want to stare at your vagina.

Have we really said that many funny things?
No.

My name is not Fisto.

I was going to say I love you, but nevermind.

Don’t worry- I have small appendages.

You make good furniture, but that’s about it.

What are you thinking about?
Your mom.

I forgot to bring my stethoscope. Now I don’t know whether you’re dead or not.

Honesty

Honesty fascinates me. As much as it is touted, honesty is a rare and potentially dangerous thing. People are generally so unaccustomed with raw frankness that they become uncomfortable, irritated or angry when confronted with it. My bluntness is notorious, but nearly everything that comes out of my mouth has been calculated, edited and filtered unless I’ve lost all patience- although alcohol seems inimical to my math.

This blog is full of intentional omissions. I’m not going to put the private lives of myself or others out there for the whole internet community to read, although I often try to write in a way that gives the illusion that I’m doing just that. (This is similar to my strategy of driving in a manner that suggests to a car contemplating pulling out in front of me that I would crash into them if they did so; even though I actually could stop if needed.) There was one blog in which I imprudently said something undeservedly mean about a specific someone, but I’ve since deleted the statement. I never want to be like those dickheads who write those “tell-all” books.

While I was applying for college scholarships in high school, I discovered that it was highly self-amusing to be entirely honest when answering their bullshit questions. I was aware that doing so was sabotaging my chances, but I became fascinated with the fact that the ubiquitous advice to “be totally honest” is absolute hogwash. The truth was I didn’t deserve their goddamn scholarship money anymore than anybody else, and if they were impressed enough with me being a confused teenager savvy enough to ace high school with no effort whatsoever to arbitrarily give me their money that was their problem.

More often than not, my motivation for being honest is that I find it funny. Interestingly, I have found that I can usually get away with being honest precisely because since it’s so taboo, others generally assume I am joking. Honesty is not necessarily reality. There is honesty as it relates to action, which is always filtered through memory; and honesty as it relates to desire, which is known as “thinking out loud.” To me, honesty of this second type is more harmless than what others tend to make it out to be. Sure, I might want to knock you over the head, rip your clothes off and rape you in the bushes; but I’m not going to because I’m not a psychopath, so what’s the big deal?

Actual Conversation

Her: Hey, whatcha doin'?

Me: Watching baseball.

Her: Whose playing?

Me: Several teams probably, but I'm watching the Giants. Their best pitcher, Tim Lincecum, is pitching.

Her: Who?

Me: Tim Lin-ce-cum

Her: Never heard of him.

Me: Can you name any baseball players?

Her: (Pause) Does Bo Derek still play baseball?

White Snail gifts

Like many others, I’m not generally very good at keeping in touch with others not in my vicinity. I’ve never been much of a phone talker or e-mailer since I can rarely think of anything interesting but concise to say (as you may have noticed if you’ve been reading my blog). I do like writing letters sometimes since it’s easier to say nothing in a letter and still convey ideas, but I’m usually too lazy to sit down and write anything.

Years ago, I stumbled on a very simple way to keep in touch with old friends that requires little thought or effort. I call it the White Snail gift. The premise can be compared to White Elephant parties, where everyone brings and exchanges gag gifts. The strategy of the White Snail is that, instead of exchanging gifts, you simply mail the gags through the post office (snail mail, get it?).

I believe the White Snail gift is best executed in the following manner: Whenever you come across or are given something that’s not quite trash but that you don’t have any use for, put it into an envelope or box and mail it off to someone you haven’t heard from in awhile. Don’t bother trying to write an explanation because then it’ll be like writing a letter and you’ll just put the whole thing off and the object will never get sent. I prefer to single one person out and just continuously send them crap for a year or so. I probably get something sent about every other month. It’s not really an idea worth wasting money on, so I try to stick to small, light objects. One great thing about the White Snail is you start looking for weird stuff to send.

The first thing you must realize about White Snail gifts is that you should never expect any reciprocation. In fact, you should never expect to find out whether or not they actually received the gift at all. At first I didn’t write my return address on the gifts, since I thought it was funny to have them speculate who it was from, assuming the post office stamp should be enough of a clue; but then I got curious about whether the gift had been received. Besides, putting my return address on the package lets the recipient know I’m thinking of them, and not what could simply be some random stalker. A gag gift exchange would be fun, but if your friends are like mine it would kill the idea in its tracks, since you’d send something off and never hear from them again.

I stumbled across this idea quite by accident. In the late 90’s I lived in a house that had been rented continuously for years by friends who would pass the place on to other friends when they moved out. Consequently, the place was full of junk and nobody knew who it belonged to. I don’t like clutter, so when I was living there I was constantly asking my roommates if stuff was theirs, and if it wasn’t, I usually threw it out.

Somewhere in that house hung two Tom Sawyer-style straw hats. One day, I got sick of them and asked my roommate Jake if they were his. He guessed they were probably some former tenant’s, but didn’t know who. I rolled my eyes and muttered, "I wish we could just send the old tenants all their crap that’s lying around all over the place." Excitedly, Jake replied, "We should!" Giggling gleefully, we threw one of the hats in a box Jake had, taped it shut and wrote Carl’s address on it, I guess since he was the only former tenant whose address we knew. I actually vaguely remember sending both hats, but I don’t know who we would have sent the other one to.

Carl was living in San Diego at the time, and what we didn’t know was that Carl’s mom had been regularly mailing him cookies. So when our box came in the mail, Carl’s roommate, seeing it was from Iowa, hungrily opened it up expecting fresh cookies. I forgot about the incident completely until years later, when I visited Carl and saw the hat hanging on his wall. I slyly asked, "Where did you get that hat?" Grinning immediately, he replied, "Did you send that?" and then relayed the story. I don’t know why, but it still makes me laugh.

Camping Journal II

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Offensive humor

A lot of children, usually beginning around fourth grade but coming to fruition in junior high, realize that it is very funny to say something which adults would find offensive. It is not that you necessarily know why it’s offensive (often not knowing the meaning of the offensive terms), and it would definitely not be funny to get caught saying these things for which you would certainly be punished, but there is an undeniable mischievous glee in getting away with vulgar or inappropriate talk.

Eventually we get to an age where, at least in this country, we can pretty much get away with saying offensive things without fear of punishment. Without the threat of guaranteed retaliation, some of us find enjoyment in testing the boundaries of how offensive our talk can get and the strategies by which we can offend while intending to be funny. At the height of offensive humor, the helpless desperation and pointless anger with which people respond when they are temporarily offended becomes hilarious to those in on the joke. Unfortunately, it is sometimes difficult to tell when we have gone too far until we really hurt someone’s feelings or get our asses kicked. As a freakish side-affect, we can often get away with saying bona fide offensive things because others choose to assume we are joking.

In a Sarah Silverman interview (for Rolling Stone?) in which she was asked how one could tell the difference between an offensive joke and an offensive comment, she relevantly replied, “By not being retarded?”

There are two basic criteria by which offensive humor works. First, it must be grounded in exaggerated absurdity. Otherwise, nobody will accept the statement as a joke. Second, there has to be an element of reality. Without that, nobody would give the statement enough consideration to be potentially offended by it. The statement can’t be too real or everybody will be offended, and that’s not very funny. The humor in offensive humor depends on the fact that it divides society into two groups: those who think it’s offensive and those who think it’s funny that others find it offensive. Those offended consider offensive humor insulting or immature. Those who find it funny do so because they realize those who would be offended are being overly-sensitive.

There are also two basic criteria by which offensive humor is judged. First, its cleverness is all-important. For instance, Groucho Marx was a genius at saying things to people who would normally find it offensive but in such a way that the comment would go right over their head. On the other hand, Andrew Dice Clay is funny to those who need the offensiveness to be very obvious, such as junior high kids. Second, its daringness must be taken into consideration. Comedy is always a game of getting as close to the edge as you can without falling over. Context and audience are extremely important in the successful execution of an offensive joke. For example, you can say very offense things when there’s no threat of retaliation, such as when you’re with a group of friends who understand your sense of humor, and have it be funny, or you can say mildly offensive or obviously highly exaggerated things when in the presence of those who would be potentially offended and have it be funny, since the offense taken won’t be enough to turn ugly.

You don’t want to offend someone and have it turn into an argument. Often, it’s prudent to leave yourself an “out” when saying something potentially offensive, so any offense taken can be quickly diffused. The “out” should be a way to demonstrate that you are joking with minimal explanation. The degree of obviousness depends on how uptight your audience is and how much you care whether or not they get it. For instance, you can generally make fun of your own ethnicity much more severely than you can another’s, since any audience understands contextually that you certainly wouldn’t be seriously deriding yourself. The hostility and denseness of some people is very revealing, and sometimes to demonstrate how ridiculous these people are it’s cathartically preferable to let them stay mad. If you don’t have an “out,” it’s a good idea to have a safe distance from those offended.

Probably the most unique and intriguing comedian who used offensiveness as a source of humor was Andy Kaufman. Andy’s bread-and-butter were impressions and “put-ons,” in which he would pretend to be serious when, in actuality, he was joking. Often, his put-ons involved pretending to be an idiot, bully or crybaby, or a cleverly interwoven succession of all of the above. Andy would do the most outrageously absurd things and people would still believe it and be offended, simply because his style was so unfamiliar and people tend, by default, to believe things they’ve never encountered before. A frequent gag in his tragically short but brilliant life was telling bad jokes and pretending to be oblivious to being a bad comic. This specific tactic effectively highlights the separation between those who are offended by having paid to see a hack and those who realize that it’s very funny that people are upset because they think they’ve paid to see a hack. Andy was a genius at simultaneously making those offended realize they’ve been had and finding new ways to offend or at least confuse them. Andy figured out, among other things, that he could further provoke those offended by him but at the same time cleverly diffuse their hostility by staging fake arguments (often with Bob Zmuda and famously with Jerry Lawler). His influence on modern comedy is immeasurable; his mark can be clearly seen on everyone from Robin Williams (Andy originated speaking in foreign sounding languages and Mrs. Doubtfire, who was conceived by Andy to be Andy’s pretend grandmother for a performance at Carnegie Hall) to Sacha Baron Cohen (aka Ali G and Borat). Andy was also the original Elvis impersonator.

Another successful and clever source of offensive humor is “gangsta” rap. Although its roots can be found in “hardcore” rappers such as Too Short and Ice T, the group NWA, formed in Compton, CA in 1986, set gangsta rap apart as a unique and legitimate style of music. Gangsta rap combines social commentary on real issues such as oppression and injustice with absurdly exaggerated retaliatory accounts of how these issues should be dealt with and the decadence they create. (It is not a coincidence that NWA and the overtly political Public Enemy began around the same time.) Ice Cube was the primary lyricist for the group, and his acute ability to combine a vivid picture of black male urban street life with hilarity is perhaps unsurpassed. The group was formed after drug dealer turned record label owner Easy-E rapped some lyrics written by Ice Cube about a summary of life in Compton, which involves cars, basketball, theft, guns, murder, spouse abuse, drugs, police violence, court, a shooting spree and prison (called “Boyz N the Hood”), and it was realized Easy’s high pitched delivery could make anything seem hilarious. NWA also included MC Ren, Dr. Dre and DJ Yella (the latter two created the music, which relied heavily on looped samples instead of drum machines or turntables, and essentially invented the “west coast rap” sound). The DOC, a talented rapper whose voice was relegated to a whisper by a car accident, did some ghostwriting for NWA, and went on to ghostwrite much of Dr. Dre’s breakthrough album The Chronic and some of Snoop Dogg’s Doggystyle. Snoop Dogg, whose laid back style can best be compared with cool Miles Davis, is famous for satirizing “ebonics” by creating dozens of ludicrous words. Unfortunately, gangsta rap was irretrievably damaged when it got too real as a result of the senseless murders of rappers Tupac Shakur in September of 1996 and Christopher Wallace, aka Biggie Smalls, six months later.


Lyrics to NWA’s “Fuck Tha Police”

[Dr.Dre]
Right about now, NWA Court is in full effect. Judge Dre presiding in the case of “NWA versus the Police Department.” Prosecuting attorneys are MC Ren, Ice Cube and Eazy motherfucking E.

Order, order, order! Ice Cube, take the mother fucking stand! Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help your black ass?

[Ice Cube]
You're goddamn right!

[Dr.Dre]
Why don't you tell everybody what the fuck you gotta say?

[Ice Cube]
Fuck the police, comin’ straight from the underground. A young nigga, got it bad ‘cause I'm brown and not the other color, so police think they have the authority to kill a minority. Fuck that shit, ‘cause I ain't the one for a punk motherfucker with a badge and a gun to be beatin’ on and thrown in jail- we can go toe to toe in the middle of a cell.

Fuckin’ with me ‘cause I'm a teenager with a little bit of gold and a pager. Searching my car, looking for the product, thinking every nigga is selling narcotics. You'd rather see me in the pen, than me and Lorenzo rolling in a Benz-o. Beat a police outta shape, and when I'm finished, bring the yellow tape to tape off the scene of the slaughter. (He) still can’t swallow bread and water.

I don't know if they fags or what; search a nigga down and grabbing his nuts. And on the other hand, without a gun they can't get none…. But don't let it be a black and a white one, ‘cause they’ll slam ya down to the street top: black police showing off for the white cop. Ice Cube will swarm on any motherfucker in a blue uniform. Just ‘cause I'm from the CPT, punk police are afraid of me. Hah! A young nigga on the war path; and when I'm finished, it's gonna be a bloodbath of cops dying in LA. Yo Dre, I got something to say:

[Eazy-E]
Fuck the police (4X)

[Dr.Dre]
Example of scene one:

Pull your goddamn ass over right now!

[MC Ren]
Ah shit. Hey, what the fuck you pulling me over for?

[Dr.Dre]
‘Cause I feel like it. Just sit your ass on the curb and shut the fuck up!

[MC Ren]
Man, fuck this shit!

[Dr.Dre]
Alright smartass, I'm taking your black ass to jail!

MC Ren, will you please give your testimony to the jury about this fucked up incident?

[MC Ren]
Fuck the police, and Ren said it with authority, because the niggaz on the street is a majority. A gang is with whoever I'm stepping, and the motherfucking weapon is kept in the stash box for the so-called law, wishing Ren was a nigga that they never saw. Lights start flashing behind me, but they're scared of a nigga so they mace me to blind me- but that shit don't work, I just laugh, because it gives ‘em a hint not to step in my path. To the police I'm saying, “fuck you punk!” Reading my rights and shit; it's all junk. Pulling out a silly club, so you stand with a fake-ass badge and a gun in your hand. But take off the gun so you can see what's up, and we'll go at it punk, and I'm (gonn)a fuck you up, make ya think I'm (gonn)a kick your ass, but drop your gat, and Ren's gonna blast! I'm sneaky as fuck when it comes to crime, but I'm (gonn)a smoke ‘em now, and not next time; smoke any motherfucker that sweats me and any asshole that threatens me. I'm a sniper with a hell of a scope, takin’ out a cop or two, they can't cope with me, the motherfucking villain that's mad with potential to get bad as fuck. So I'm (gonn)a turn it around, put in my clip, yo, and this is the sound: [Bang, Bang] yah, something like that, but it all depends on the size of the gat. Taking out a police would make my day, but a nigga like Ren don't give a fuck to say:

[Eazy-E]
Fuck the police (4X)

[Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock]

[Eazy-E]
Hey man, what you need?

[Dr.Dre]
Police, open now!

[Eazy-E]
Oh, shit.

[Dr.Dre]
We have a warrant for Eazy-E's arrest. Get down and put your hands up where I can see ‘em!

[Eazy-E]
Calm down, man, what the fuck did I do? Man, what did I do?

[Dr.Dre]
Just shut the fuck up and get your motherfuckin’ ass on the floor.

[Eazy-E]
But I didn’t do shit.

[Dr.Dre]
Man, just shut the fuck up!

Eazy-E, why don't you step up to the stand and tell the jury how you feel about this bullshit?

[Eazy-E]
I'm tired of them motherfucking jackin’, sweating my gang while I'm chilling in the shack. Him shining the light in my face, and for what? Maybe it's because I kick so much butt. I kick ass! Or maybe ‘cause I blast on a stupid ass nigga when I'm playing with the trigger of any Uzi or an AK, ‘cause the police always got something stupid to say. They put up my picture with silence, ‘cause my identity by itself causes violence- the E, with the criminal behavior. Yeah, I'm a gangsta, but still I got flavor. Without a gun and a badge, what do ya got? A sucker in a uniform waiting to get shot by me or another nigga, and with a gat it don't matter if he's smarter or bigger.

[MC Ren]
Size don't mean shit, he's from the old school, fool!

[Easy-E]
And as you all know, E's here to rule. Whenever I'm rolling, keep looking in the mirror, and there's no cue, yo, so I can hear a dumb motherfucker with a gun. And if I'm rolling off the 8, he'll be the one that I take out, and then get away, and while I'm driving off laughing, this is what I'll say:

[Eazy-E]
Fuck the police (4X)

[Dr.Dre]
The verdict:
The jury has found you guilty of being a redneck, white bread, chickenshit motherfucker!

Wait, that's a lie! That's a goddamn lie!

Get him outta here!

I want justice!

Get him the fuck outta my face!

I want justice!

Out, right now.

Fuck you, you black motherfucker!

[Eazy-E]
Fuck the police (3X)