Posted in Shouts from the Abyss

In Memoriam: 2017

Image source: Vinny Lingham

I have a few words I’d like to say about my close, personal friend, 2017. I’ll start with: “Suck it.”

It goes downhill from there.

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Posted in Shouts from the Abyss

Breaking: Irma Shaves – Special Report

reporter-1“The storm is here,” said the governor. Everyone looked out their windows and said, “Hey, he’s right!”

Bulletin, bulletin, bulletin! Bulletin, bulletin, bulletin! The sun did not come up this morning, huge cracks have appeared in the earth’s surface, and big rocks are falling out of the sky. Details twenty-five minutes from now on Action Central News, kids!

–George Carlin, Take-offs and Put-ons, 1967

First Harvey, now Irma. Leave it to a woman to be forced to pick up after a man, even though an unimaginable gulf exists between them. What else is new?

reporter-2Speaking of news, we have embedded 42 reporters who are now reporting live from the hardest hit areas. You know where, right? The areas where everyone was ordered to evacuate. Luckily, reporters are not well known for listening to reason.

“Hey, boss. You know that hurricane that’s about to hit the mainland?”

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Posted in Shouts from the Abyss

City on the Edge of Displeasure

Statue named Portlandia looks down on this post.

Ah. The big city. There’s no place like it, amirite?!

I’m currently working on a theory that seeks to explain the vast breadth of experiences found in the big city right down to the smallest nooks and crannies. I think I’ve found a model that does just that.

We decided to leave our house. We piled into the car. Seven turns and six miles later we were at Powell’s Books. We left our car in a truly frightening multi-level parking garage and made our way inside. An elevator whisked us up to the third floor. I shuffled over to the farthest corner and stood in front of books about architecture. I pretended to be interested. Suddenly, invading my space, someone crowded in. Yes, I was attempting to physically exist in the sole location in the Cosmos where they wanted to be. I was bad.

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Posted in Shouts from the Abyss

Silence Is Better Than Bullshit

Your author at work.

It was 10:30am Saturday morning. It was about half an hour since my wife had rolled out of bed. She was finally finding her words.

“How did it go?” she asked.

I thought real hard for a long, long time but I was baffled. I had no clue. “What in the name of Zeus’ butthole are you talking about?!”

(Side note: This is a fairly representative example of a typical conversation in the Taker household. -Ed.)

“Your blog post.”

Oh. Shit.

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Posted in Humor, Shouts from the Abyss

Tom poll dances and vows, “I will make it rain”

Which came first? Bad polling or Donald Trump? Perhaps that’s a question best left for philosophers and besides, this isn’t a post about He Who Must Not Be Named. (I can’t promise he won’t come up again, though.)

Actually, this post is about polls themselves. As a little piggy who built a house out of straw, I feel I am eminently qualified to discuss and conduct polls of my own. I find the arcane craft of polling science to be an art form.

What is a poll? It’s basically just a fancy word for asking a lot of jerk faces about their opinions.

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Posted in Shouts from the Abyss

We are now in violation of treaty

Demonstration of portion control. I do love a moist sponge, laws yes.

(The goal for today’s post is a simple one: At all costs avoid any mention of He Who Must Not Be Named. If I screw that up, my wife kicks me in the marzipan. Again. –Ed.)

Truth, Justice, and the American way. Simple, lofty ideals that sound good but are easier said than done.

We’ll take a look at a typical American family and see how they incorporate these values into their modest daily lives. Something tells me it will be a real treat.

In the Taker household, dessert time is a special time. It’s a sacred time.

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