Barely??

In an unrelated topic, it seems that today was barely the first time someone noticed that I’d stopped writing the iep’s. Twice before this, someone’d mentioned that they read them, but for such avid fans, not a one ‘fore my friend Jessy noticed that I’d totally stopped writing them.

That makes me sad in the pants.

This contest, however, makes me happy… in the pants.

p.s. the longer you blog, the more self-referrential your posts can be.
p.p.s. I might not do a written post for a good three days. I’m, er, going on a trip. But you’re sworn to secrecy until Saturday. Pass it on.
p.p.p.s. Actually, don’t. That defeats the purpose.

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indepen

I’m thinking that if nobody says anything within the next month, I won’t write any more indepens. I just don’t feel they’re being warmly received. Perhaps I’m too picky. Eh.

Last Year: Ind e-Pen V
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Ind e-Pen 2, #IV, Arr Matey!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>ind e-pen>>>
< < vol. 2 BT 4 <<
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Intro.
Oh, my! Guess what I’m doing? That’s right! I’m writing another script! Only, instead of this one being based on previous work, I’m writing it out of my clear blue head. Here’s what I have so far:

A Pirate Love Story

(The camera zooms into perilously crazy waters where we see a boat floating in the water. It looks surprisingly like a toy boat in a bathtub. The pirate, in his standard raspy voice, narrates:)

Pirate: (Voice Over) Arr! Ahoy! It was an a’erage day. The wind rocked my gossimer vessel like a mate’s first bonny lass. We ‘ad taken severe blows from the Black Pirate and my men were feeling down. So to cheer ‘em up, I ‘ad one Douglas Fairbanks keelhauled without ‘ivin’ ‘im the rights of parlay. But, as I said, my men were down, an’ his keelhauling ‘ad repaired their feelings of low self-worth and staved off their latent homosexuality another day. It was a good day, as it so often is with being a pirate. And moreover, we had a new bonny lass aboard…

Pirate’s Mom (Offscreen): Billy! Haven’t you spent enough time in the bath? You know we have to use that water!

(The Camera zooms out and shows the Pirate, now just a small boy)

Young Pirate (Still with the raspy old pirate voice) Arr, Mom! You ruin everything! I was in the middle of a story!

Pirate’s Mom (Offscreen): Don’t give me any lip, young man. The men don’t like their water to taste like dirty little boys, you know that!

Young Pirate (As if to say something, but then thinks better of it) Arr!

(The Camera zooms out further and shows several adult pirates walking up to the Young Pirate. One of them pulls down his pants and the camera sees his butt in full glory. Then the camera zooms out even further to what is really the Pirate ship.)

Pirate (V.O.): Arr! You’re forcing it. It should be delicate, like a fine woman’s touch.

(Zoom in to the now much older pirate instructing a young lad in how to polish a doorknob).

Young Lad: But I’ve never touched a woman.. at least, not since your mother… the sexy bitch…

Pirate: Arr, my mum was a buxom beauty. Arr… Now you just finish cleaning the deck and we’re done.

(The Pirate walks off toward his room as the Young Lad looks out in dismay to the most filthy ship imagineable )

Pirate: Arr, ne’er seen a woman.. as if that were a seafaring complaint…  arr…  (He picks up a framed picture and stares at it as if deep in memory. He sets down the picture and the camera sees it: a crayola-drawn stick figure of a woman with large breasts)

Pirate: Arr, the post is here again (He picks up a stack of letters addressed to 1 Ship Way, Sealand, International Waters)

Pirate: Junk, junk, bill, junk, bill, bill, porn, porn, underage porn, warrant for arrest, my penthouse forum query returned– hello, what’s this? ‘You May Already Be A Winner.’ Arr, me likes the sound of that (He begins to read aloud).

Pirate: ‘Dear Sir or Madam, this is Joe Bob Fenestre with Web Access America. We are testing our new Sea-mail program and are asking for you to pass this on to everyone on your contact list. Our complicated program will track down every person you send it to and pay you a sum of…’ umm…. Let’s see… why that is Twelve Sheckles for ev’ry twain! I should investigate this..

And that’s all I have so far… at least from the beginning. I hope to get the pirate arrested, have him meet an indian, a cowboy, a stockbroker, and a cockney-speaking Mexican by the end of the month. Then, when I finish the script, I’ll give it to a pseudo-director friend of mine and he’ll fix it up to whatever preconceived notions he already had of a pirate being in love.. the bastard.

FyEO:

1. Do you like pirates or pirate-related stories?
2. What do you think Marvin Gaye’s song “Sexual Healing” was about?
3. How about the Beach Boys’ “Surfing USA?”

Last Year: Ind e-Pen IV
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Ind e-Pen 2, #III, phoning it in.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>ind e-pen>>>
<< vol. 2 BT 3 < <
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

i’m boycotting this. Who’s with me?

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Ind e-Pen 2, #II, spastic, topic-jumping, information junkie

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>ind e-pen>>>
<< vol. 2 BT 2 <<
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

introduction
==================

I just did some yardwork. I rarely do yardwork. Boy, I am rather proud of myself. Ten square feet of what was weeds are now just dirt. Yup. It’s so beautiful. Now let me just relax here for a moment and go back out and finish. I only have 1 1/3 acres left…
Now do you see why I rarely do yardwork?

Ideas
———–

-1436-

Screw Jack Bauer. Someone should make a 24 show about ME. I mean, the amount of awesome stuff I do in any given hour definitely whomps over Kiefer Sutherland’s poor ass.

… I mean, I’ve spent 5 hours working on this e-mail already! Isn’t that a fun-filled, action-packed, month-long extravaganza?

Whoo!
Kiefer did it all along. I know it. Pfft!

-You Gotta Love…-

My favorite line of all time:

(trying to hear what Jesus is saying)
1: What did he say?
2: I think he said, “Blessed are the ‘Cheese makers.’”
1: What does that mean? ‘Blessed are the Cheese makers…’
2: Well, it’s a metaphor, obviously, he doesn’t just mean ‘blessed are the Cheese makers,’ He means the makers of any type of dairy.

–Monty Python, Life of Brian

-The Know-It-All-

By A.J.Jacobs, details the quest to become the smartest person in the world by reading the Encyclopedia Britannica.
Ha! I’ll beat him! I have decided to read the 100 Most Historical works in history (I’ll come up with a better tag line later).
Yup, I’ll read Machiavelli, three different Gods, Plato, Stowe, Swift, and a whole bunch more.
PLUS, I’ll read Every issue of Newsweek Ever Printed!
And. AND.. AND I’ll Read the Dictionary!!

… oh, screw it, I’ll just read his book. Who needs the pressure?

-A Day to Oneself-

I’m going to write a new best-selling novel. Or at least a short story… Oh, who am I kidding, I just planned out the book in the hopes that someone would Really write it and save me the trouble. The story goes as such:

One day, the narrator wakes up, gets ready, eats breakfast, goes to class, gets some food with his friends, talks with them and some nearby lunch-patrons about philosophy/humanity, then he goes to his recently estranged girlfriend in the hopes of talking her back into going out with him. She refuses, so he goes over to a friend’s house, plays some chess (loses), argues with him, and leaves.
The next day, he wakes up, showers, gets dressed, brushes his teeth, and drives to class. On the way there he notices that none of the radio stations are playing anything but instrumental music. Then he notices that there are absolutely NO cars on the road; he begins to get freaked out. Once at school, he realizes that he is the absolute ONLY person around. He calls one or two of his friends, but gets their voice-mail (without their voices. Just beeps, basically).
He races from class to class, then he goes from house to house, and finally business to business just to find people. He ends up at the mall with several bags full of movies, music, books, and clothes. Unfortunately, the books are character/people-less, the music is purely instrumental, and the movies have no characters.
He starts going insane, when finally he realizes that people are peripheral and he should be happy with himself/his life/the world (like Groundhog Day or A Christmas Carol). Then he wakes up and everything is back to normal.
His day is just like his first day (complete with a dull class, pleasant discussions, and an ex-girlfriend who won’t date him), but now he accepts it and enjoys it all.

The moral isn’t that a good disposition changes the world, but that it changes how one views it.

Oh, and Kiefer Sutherland is the one that caused everyone to disappear.

-Tick, tick, tick…-

I can tell the time in eight different ways right now. There’s a watch in my pocket, a clock on my cell phone, a clock on my computer, there’s one on the television, one on the oven, another on the microwave, one right in front of me on the table, and the last… infernal… ticking clock on the wall behind me. Furthermore, there’s a grandfather clock in the living room that rings every fifteen minutes.
It’s driving me insane. It’s one thing to lose a second 3,600 times an hour, but to hear it EVERY SINGLE TIME is just driving me INSANE!!!
Tick, tick, tick…

-What do you call a gorilla with a sub-machine gun?-

Sir!!

-Voter Fraud-

I don’t know if there Was voter fraud this year (though it is likely it happens every year), but now that Barbara Boxer and Stephanie Jones (and 30 others) have taken the floor in Congress and spoken out against electoral problems in Ohio, I can’t help but feel a bit of dread.
Aye, the more informed one gets about current events, the more it seems that there needs to be change in ALL of our representatives. And I’m not a fan of Mr. Bush, but I just cannot hope for a set of circumstances that would give Kerry the presidency without the popular vote.
Besides, it scares me that there might be election fraud/voter intimidation. It just seems so… 1984.

Oh, yeah. Also, there is a race of people being systematically exterminated in Darfur, more people are dying in Iraq, there are 140,000+ people dead in Asia after the fifth most deadly (and powerful) earthquake in history struck last year, killing thousands and having others– including children– raped, killed, and kidnapped for prostitution, and, worst of all, American Idol is coming back in two weeks.

But hey, look, Mars!

For Your Eyes Only:
Cassandra Aho, you honky-hating wench! How DARE you insult us born-again Mexicans? Just for that, I’m punishing you with a mandatory issue of the next episode of the Pix Capacitor! That’ll show you!

1. Would you rather be wrong and happy or right and sad?
2. If you woke up today and were the only human left alive in the world, what would you do?
3. Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do bad tsunamis kill poor people? Is it because they’re Hindu? It’s probably because they’re Hindu.

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