Away Team Transcripts

Maybe if police officers feel they must shoot at fleeing black kids, and who wouldn’t, the fleeing part I mean, oh, I don’t know, maybe they could shoot these kids in the butt.

Heres how a cat follows you in a hallway.

First he runs in front of you.

Then he slows way down.

If you try to go around him; he just speeds up until he is in front of you again.

Then he slows way down.

I, in fact, did not die. Dialysis has made me feel human again. And to top it off I have my own car once more.

Thing is, I really am at a loss for what to do now. I’ve pretty much done enough for five lives, and yet the odds are I am going to wake up again tomorrow.

One can only watch The Venture Brothers so many times no matter how good it is.

The U.S. government is now suggesting that we all wear a mask in public.

So, to all you wanna be Batmen;

I’m an old man.

Last week my friend of twenty five years said to me:

Kids these days don’t read anymore. All they do is stare down at their phones all day.

Alex: No, I mean I’m sorry, I’m not gay.

Wilma: Jesus! No, we’re sorry. I hope we didn’t offend you.

Alex: Are you kidding? That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me all month.

Betty: What about Ariel? She’s so cute!

Alex chuckles.

Alex: No, not Ariel. She is SO straight!

Wilma: How straight is she

Alex: She’s so straight the speed limit down the crack of her ass is eighty-five miles an hour.

Sorry, sorry, I’ll just be a second.

Here it is.

Wow, Wild Space Buckos! I”m so sorry.

When I thought the sides had been switched, my soul came unstitched. 

I felt cast out as a wretch, for the Devil to catch, neath the  lovelorn’s forgotten, aging and rotten, star studded Bridge full of Sighs.

It seemed in my dreamin, that someone was screamin, and leaving us all here to die.  

Or twas, seem it nary, that doubt was the fairy, and odds less the table doth carry this fable?.

And so...... (Trumpish dots, only followed only by bots,)

Follow on exrstentially largo, if you don’t objecto, 

Just screamin on Netflix, gettin my vid fix,

whilst scratchin out, those things I must shout, those bitter sweet misty, those ageless and grisly, those flat Mississippi, cryin, and dyin, those bittersweet  rag top  blues,

Slats along my deck are a saggin,

and my heart can’t stop draggin,

I’m just Jonesin the rhythm,

that comes as the victim,

the pounding and pressure, the unending pleasure,that quaint evil demon that lives in my semen,

And so, Mr. Pepe Le Pew, I am thinking of you. (You knew this was a tribute to Mel Blank, right?)

Socially distant since birth,

I still walk this Earth,

Cads peek under skirts.

How do wise men know their is a God?

Once again, I thought I’d be dead by now, so I stopped blogging as a kindness to the reader.

Believe me, I really thought I’d bought the farm this time.

And like all the other many, many times I should have died, I did not.

Huh. Life is funny like that.

It still amazes me that such a large segment of the population is not concerned with whether people are half lizard, or one quarter carrot, or from outer space, but rather what color they are.

I might be able to understand this better if it were a different number of eyes, or if some people left a trail of green slime wherever they went, but skin color? Really? Wow! That has always been so far removed from the problems I worry about in daily life.

The measles left me so decimated I could barley walk ten feet. I still can’t make it all the way through the grocery store yet. This seems like a real problem. The fact that the neighbors to the left are now darker than their previous counterparts not so much.

Of all the things that people can worry about; pestilence, war, famine, drought, plague, J. Edgar Hoover; skin color seems a rather odd choice. 

People never cease to amaze me. Women are never satisfied with the color of their own faces, and it seems a large segment of the population is upset with the color of other people’s faces as well. I don’t like the color my wife painted the kitchen, but I have deep seated emotional problems.

Does this perception change when people wear different color sunglasses? Do shades suddenly change who your friends and enemies are?

Are there blind bigots? Do they have resources they can go to and find out who they should hate?

What do bigots do when a stranger calls them on the phone? This seems like a real problem.

Are there colors swatches? Little cardboard rectangles with skin tones painted on them and a marker that says, “Hate below crepe pancake.”

During the summer, do these people carry around their little color kits, secretly comparing them to the neighbor’s tans, bags packed,ready to move to Montana on a moments notice?