I am the last man on earth.

I woke up about an hour ago and realized that I am the last man on earth and I don't even have a weiner. What a way to start the new year. The good news is, I said very loudly to myself as all my utterances and phrases and quips will be from now on, The good news is, or actually I said, THE GOOD NEWS IS, because I was talking very loudly, THE GOOD NEWS IS, I WON'T MISS HAVING SEX WITH ANY WOMEN BECAUSE I HAVE NO WEINER ANYWAY. Then I wondered to myself, quietly in my head, "I wonder how you spell weiner. Is it weener? Wiener? I think it is wiener. I should look it up for when I write about this on my blog later." And then I thought about how futile it will be to write in my blog now that I am the last man on earth but then I remembered how much I enjoy reading my own blog entries and how much I entertain myself and since I am the last man on earth I'm going to need to be the only source of my own entertainment so I'd better keep on writing. Then I came up with a list of things I would need to bring with me on a deserted island. This was a hypothetical exercise that is ironic and unnecessary to do once you are the last man on earth. I think this will make me laugh in a few months when I go back and read it. The irony.

I never got to me a millionaire in real life but now that I am the last man on earth, am I a quadzillionaire? Do I own all the earths resources? Or are they all worthless now? Am I the poorest person ever in history now that there is no exchange rate or bartering to be done or worth to be determined? And who am I posing these questions to? When you are the last man on earth, I've discovered, answers are the most priceless and in demand things. I have to give them all myself.

I cut and dyed my hair today. I had grown my bangs out for the second time in my life. My hair was all the same length. I look like a retard with no bangs, I decided.

I've been sort of invited to attend a new years party but I won't. I'm thinking of going to see a movie. I hope I don't have to run the projector myself because I don't know how. I'm smart enough to figure it out. I'm the smartest man on earth.

Apostles, Epistles, Epicenters, Eels.

This is the best series of epistles that I have read in recent times. A.D.

Episstles Part I.

Episstles Part II

Part III

Part IV (must be read intravenously)

Check it out dudes. You will not be sorrier.

I'm Black. From Outerspace. Outerspace made me Black. You've got to love me black.

I'll tell you one thing. I'm not quite ready yet for writing a blog or anything. Don't get your hopes up, men and women. Don't get to feeling that things are all going to be okay again now that Mandy is back blogging and shit, fuckwardly flopheads. Because it isn't that simple. I did happily find the missing glove in my pair of fingerless gloves that my grandma gave me a few years ago that I think belonged to her or to my grandpa. So now I can blog in the winter. The only thing holding me back before was cold hands or gloved fingers. Now I have ungloved fingers and warm hands at the same time, timothy. Great going for me.

I saw Walk Hard some time in the last 2 hours. It was pretty funny. I also really liked the songs and I have deep deep and strong heartfelt feelings for John C. Riley. Strong, deep, hard feelings.

There is a xylophone player here at the coffee shop where I am eating broccoli cheddar soup and drinking a vanilla latte. When you eat soup with fingerless gloves in the winter with a xylophone player in the background it makes you feel like you are back in the oldenest of days. Olden Times, even. Ye Olde Times, you might even say. How do you spell xylophone? I'll look it up later to make sure I'm doing it right. I'm only sure about the x part. The X-factor.

The xylophone player is very young and looks like noah wylie. I shall tip him handsomely upon my leaving. I shall leave when the battery on my laptop forces my departure. I shall depart upon my leaving. The xylophone player is making me want to go home and get started on my pinano playing. I got a piano for christmas. A baby grand piano. I mean, a big nice expensive electric piano. I bet there is a xylophone setting. I'm going to play some great xylophone songs on my new piano. Today was really good because I had no work but also really bad because I didn't leave the house until 4 o'clock or wake up until 11:00 and I couldn't stop playing sudoku. I couldn't stop. I could not stop. I would not stop. I wouldn't and also I could not. It had me. It had me at 123456789. I'm going to record myself playing sudoku and make a song out of it. I'll call it CANNOT STOP PLAYING SUDOKU:THE MUSICAL. It will bust blocks. Bust Blocks!!!

Also, when does the t.v. strike end and when does the holiday schlock stop on t.v. and also when do they stop giving me t.v. for free? I've been warned that I'll no longer be able to use my rabbit ears to get free t.v. sometime in January. Is this the truth? What will I do? What can be done about it? I am so worried about this. I am pulling my teeth and hair and nails out about it. There are bloody teeth and nails and regular hair piled in piles in front of my rabbit ear t.v. now. piles and piles. I can't get a hold of myself over it. I'm chattering.

Sometimes people clap when the xylophone stops playing and sometimes people don't. I tend to clap when others do but once or twice I did and no one did. I'm embarrassed from this.

Over

I am so done. Completely done. I need to take a break. I've got to take a good long break until January.

Here's looking forward to '08. A new president, a new me.

Merry Christmas Everybody! Happy New Year!

Things to Consider When Choosing a Pseudonym

Important things to consider when choosing a pseudonym:

1. It is a good idea to perform an internet search containing the words or part of the words of the pseudonym or pseudonyms you are considering. Mark Twain was alive prior to the advent of the world wide web and search engines but if he were alive today and if he were to perform a search for his name he would find that there are quite a few sites that use his name or contain his name. This would make it difficult for people to find him if they were looking. Part of the problem is that if Mark Twain came from the past into the future prior to when he chose the pseudonym "Mark Twain," he would find it difficult to become Mark Twain in the shadow of the historical figure that he would become. However, even in a world where either there was no Mark Twain, or even worse, where the world wide web had been invented when Mark Twain was alive and deciding on possible pseudonyms, a young Mark Twain might think twice about choosing the words Mark Twain. To understand what I mean, imagine in your mind that you have traveled into the past. You are in America circa whenever it was that Mark Twain made up his name (come to the present quickly to look this date up on an internet search engine if you want to more fully imagine exactly what this future might look like). You are Mark Twain and you are sitting at a computer performing a search on the internet. You aren't thinking of pseudonyms or nom de plumes. The internet has been invented so you are thinking of terms like handle, a user name, login name, avatar, screen name, nick or nickname. You are querying the terms "Mark" and "Twain" together. You are trying several different variations. You are typing in Mark Twain together. You are typing in Twain, Mark. You are typing in "Mark Twain" in order to find exact matches. In Mississippi or Calaveras County or San Francisco or wherever else you might have been at this particular time, had the internet existed, there might be many people with websites devoted to river boating. There might be many more with mentions of mark twains, twains, marks, "mark twain," etc. You'd say to yourself, hmmm... perhaps I'd be better off sticking to my second choice for a pseudonym. Then you'd spend the next few minutes typing in variations of Slutty Longtimehorny Clemency. This does not return any matches and has the added benefit which is that you will not have to change the monograms your mother sewed into your underpants.

Tino and forces of evil are like THIS.

I have important information to pass along to very specific people and also maybe other people if you are at all interested.

Firstly, A#1, to begin with, ABC.com is playing all the episodes of My So Called Life. This is a show that was only on for one season in 1994. I was 15 and 16 in 1994, so, like, it like means something to me, or whatever. That is me imitating the way they talk on that show. Actually, I don't really have to imitate it because I sadly still basically talk the same way I did when I was 15 years old. Maybe not as many likes and whatevers but, like, whatever. You can watch them on your computer by going to abc.com. It is, in my humble opinion, great. I'm not sure how well it would hold up if you'd never seen it before. But I know many of the people who read this have seen it. In fact, Frank, who sometimes reads this blog, mentioned on his blog that he recently saw Wilson Cruz who played Ricky and when he met him he was like "Ricky!" I saw Ricky dancing and fall down in big platform heals when he was on Broadway in Rent for a while. That isn't the same thing as seeing him in real life though. So good going, Frank. Ricky might have been my favorite character. Or Brain Krackow. Now that I am an adult I find myself wishing that Brain and Ricky had been gay together because that would have been so cute. But I guess Brain was straight, or whatever. Oh, one other thing, they just have the first two episodes up now but they are putting a new one up every Friday. Also, you could just come over to my house with your VCR and we could watch all the episodes that I have taped on VHS. I don't have a VCR though so you'll have to bring it.

There is no A#2. I've wracked my brain. No A#2. Sorry.

Three Bagger

This is the old three bagger trick.
You know, like when something is funny the third time around. Or when the third time is a charm.

1. Title of Something That is Differently and Cleverly Titled.

I talked to this one person who was a man and it made me feel a strong case of the uncomfies, which is a phrase I made up and want to get a trademark on. The Uncomfies (tm). I talked and talked and I said a lot of useless made up things and maybe they weren't useless to the man but to me they were just made up things. I do this all the time. Once when my brother in law was asking me questions and I was giving heavy handed opinions outside in the summertime and he said "you've thought a lot about this" and my sister said in an exasperated tone "No! She hasn't! She just talks and words come out that sound like she'd thought a lot about them!" This makes my sister frustrated, I think. Anyway, I enjoy talking.



2. The Pet Got Petted.

Rigley Field was a dog/cat who was a pet. He was petted and treated with kindness and got the ball tossed around and the yarn dangled and was fed and taken care of. They named him Rigley Field because that is the first thing I thought of like when I named my hamster Charlie Wannamaker because that was the first thing I thought of. The pet dog/cat got taken care of mostly except sometimes the man who owned him would go visit his new wife who lived in a different house. Why didn't they just move in together? No one knew.

3. What's The Plan, Stan? STEAL THE GOLDEN 'AN.' GIVE IT TO FRAN. IN THE VAN. LIFE SPAN.

When you've got something to do and you put it off and you hit the snooze button for three hours and you wake up finally because you realize there is one thing to look forward to in the day, even though this thing is so pathetic that you don't even want to mention it on your blog, the place where you say almost everything, that is the day that you think to yourself perhaps you ought to make a plan. And the only plan you can think of is that maybe later tonight, when you get off work, you'll do one of two things. You'll either get drunk, which you quite rarely do, and you have to mention the fact that you quite rarely do this on your blog so that people won't worry, OR you think maybe you'll do some origami because you bought a special origami kit thing back in September for someones birthday but kept it because you wanted to have something to do late at night when you get home from work other than get drunk because you don't want to end up an alcoholic. You should make a real plan. Like, get a career. Or try to become a real writer. Or get married and have children. Or make a podcast. Or write more songs. These are the things you should try to do.

December 7th - A Day that Shall Flop in Infloppy.

This is what I was gwine to put up yesterday but forgot because of the drink.



I love it when he says MY DAD SAYS I CAN SELL THE POOP TUBE.

There are two people who I think are special and might be the best. One interviewed the other and if you live in the Bay Area or in L.A. you should go read their blogs because they don't get enough hits from those areas.

They are Sam Pink who is just an impersonal electronic communication

and Brandon Scott Gorrell who is Alien-fine

I appreciate these two bloggers. I appreciate all the bloggers of the world. I'll ad them to my links to your left. My left, your left. My right. My left. Your right. I mean, your right. And my right. Over there ------------------------->

Yesterday I bought beer at the grocery store. The lady at the check out told me that usually she gets men late at night coming off work and buying beer and she thought it was strange that I was buying beer because I am a woman. She also asked me, conspiratorially, if I wanted her to bag my beer. I think this was supposed to be code for "Do you want people to see that you are buying beer." But I might just be paranoid because I don't like people to see me buying alcohol. I think a really funny short film would be a person just buying all the most embarrassing grocery store items like toilet paper and feminine hygiene products and something for your hemorrhoids or yeast infections and booze and what else? Please leave me a comment telling me what the most embarrassing thing for you is to buy at the grocery store. Condoms probably. But I wouldn't know because I'm catholic.

You know what is the best invention? At Fred Meyer you can scan your own items and pay for them. Self Check Out. Best invention. Puts millions out of work, no doubt but at least I don't have to get any guff about buying beer at 11:30 at night when I get off of work from a lady wearing a fucking Santa hat.

I love it when Michael Jackson sings, "If they say why, why? Tell em that its human nature."

ADDDDENDDDDDUM

I want so badly to make a podcast soon but I've been working working working because SOMEBODY (angelina) had to break her back and make it easy for me to make more money. Anyway, I want to make a podcast on monday. I don't know what to do. Please email me sound things and I'll put them in my podcast:
mandymurphy@gmail.com

If this podcast doesn't get made or sucks you have only yourselves to blame, Fucktards.

Have I Got A Question For You Boy, Hoo Boy.

Here is my question:

Would a good name for an all girl punk band be ZUZU'S LABIA?

Also, I wanted to link to a youtube video or embed it here but I can't get the youtubes at work because work decides the youtubes is not spongeworthy. Not kosher. Not on the DL. So maybe later. I could just describe it to you. Instead I'll just quote what my dad said after I sent it to him:

"That was so funny i shit me slacks."

When I get home maybe I'll put it here. It is from the Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job! Which very well most likely is probably can't not be the best show on television now or maybe in the history of television. Fuck you, Milton Berle! Anyone can dress up like a lady. Except me, apparently.

Well, things are looking up on the job front. The blow job front. No, really, the real job front. I might get an interview maybe. And that might lead to another interview maybe. And that might lead to a job that pays me more than I get paid now and gives me 40 hours a week of work. Niiiiiiice.

I'll put up the most interesting of my craigslist responses. Well, not the most interesting but the one that peaked my interest the most. He sounds like a dick and that's my MO.

Hello.

I am extensively experienced in the art of relationships and marriage. Experience does not necessarily dictate proficiency.

References: Ex wife #1. Feel free to contact. Daughter 9 yrs old.

Ex wife #2. Please, feel free to contact. Son 4 yrs old.


Experience: Two divorces. I was a selfish bastard. $70-80K a year in medical profession and familiar with the finer nuances of insulin injection.

Not interested in flinging myself upon another's children. Lonely, prone to depression, slightly neurotic, highly functional in the bedroom, extremely sensual. Pic included.

Mostly I like him because he can spell and write complete sentences and doesn't call me baby.

There will be sacks, there will. Be Sacks. Slacks. Sensual Slacks. A pair of very sensual slacks.

I'm thinking of changing my name to Amanda Slacks. Amandaslacks. All that Amanda Lacks. All the things that Amanda Lacks. Amanda's Lacks. Amandaslacks. I like the sound of it.

If it is disingenuous to link to blogs that I don't check every day through my feeder thingy or disingenuous to subscribe to blogs on my feeder thingy that I don't link to here, then I am being disingenuous. I realized that there are blogs that I look at every day, sometimes more than once, that I wouldn't want other people to know that I look at. I am not an honest and open person. I am a lying closed person.

If I change my name to Amanda Slacks do I have to change the name of my blog to Diaslacksies? Do I have to change the name of my podcast to The Diaslackscast? I'm shit fucked in the ass. What'll I do.

Poor Angelina has a broken back. Everyone do your best to make Angelina better so she can come back to work. Someone give me a job that pays more than I get paid now and that will give me 40 hours a week of work and benefits. I'm a hard worker. I'm a creative problem solver with a can-do attitude. I can type, like, over 80 words a minute or something. I've taken some typing tests where it is more like 90 or more. I know the alphabet. I'm good with multi-line phone systems. There is not a single type of software or program that I can't master in about 10 minutes or that I don't already know how to use. I'm a pleasure to work with. I'm mostly punctual. I have a drivers license and proof of insurance. I'm drug free. I'll pee in a cup. You can take my blood. I rarely call in sick. I take very few vacations. I'm almost always available to work overtime. I am very accurate. I am very fast. I am incredibly fun to be around. I am a poor cook. I can't sew. I wouldn't do well in a clothing sweatshop. I've got a degree but I'll pretend I don't if you think that makes me overqualified for something. I am childless and husbandless and would love being totally devoted to a job that will pay me enough to get cable, an insulin pump, and maybe a gym membership. These would be enormous luxuries for me.

References available upon request.

The Future. Welcome to the Future. A Futurmentary

What topping would you like? Just some metal.

Also, add this to my christmas list

Record your vinyl or cassette tapes to CD

My dad said he is getting me a piano. Not a real piano, stupid. An electric portable type piano. I can't wait. I'm going to be able to make some really great songs. I'm much better at piano playing than I am at guitar playing.

So I don't need a piano. Also, you can cross this off your list of possible presents for me because this guy on the internet from England who I don't even know is going to send me one:

Silicone Vibrating Mould A Willy Kit

Here is what was said:

apants said...
You could make one of your penis and your mom's vagina and play out all those incest fantasies you've been having. Or they should make famous cock molds that you could put on your own penis and you could say "Baby, tonight you're getting done up right by Tom Hanks," or "Mom, tonight you're getting fudged by Sean Connery." His would come in silver.

In any case you should definitely put on the christmas card "Hope you like my yule log."
30 November 2007 21:16

apants said...
Oh, and I forgot to say, I totally want one. Sign me up!
30 November 2007 21:18

Frank Morgan said...
you're on the list Amanda Pants!!

I think I'll send you a red one

used or unused - your choice x
01 December 2007 00:59

apants said...
red and white striped like a candy cane!

I also want that rufus wainwright cd/dvd of the judy garland show. Because I am a gay man.

Also, I wrote a great poem.

gramma, you look so pretty in the dark.
gramma, you are just like rose from golden girls

i can't remember when I said those things
but my grandmother was mad both times

the first because it implies that the darkness
covered up her faults

the second because she thought I meant she was dumb
since rose on the golden girls was really dumb

but I meant it that she was pretty, the first time
and the second time I meant it too
because she looks like betty white

Some people cannot take a compliment

What is this? What is it? Is it golden? Is it rock? What is it? Jeez.

I've been reading a lot of stuff lately. I've just been reading and reading and reading but I've not been reading any novels. I've been reading a lot of short stories and a lot of blogs and a lot of magazines and a lot of newspapers. I'm not sure about this kind of reading. Is it real? Does it count? These are the questions that I think about when I'm reading these things. I don't know what it is supposed to count towards but there are a lot of books that I haven't read that I feel I should. At least for dinner parties. I go to a lot of dinner parties.

I'm going to do a project now. I'm going to put together all my books that I own but haven't read. I mean, that's a good place to start I think. I watched a documentary about Helvetica, yeah, the font (or typeface I guess), and there was one scene where these design people where talking about designing stuff (by the way, I think Steve, Marigold, Justin, and Alicia and maybe Frank would really really like this documentary even though it sounds like the most boring thing in the world). In this scene there was a quick shot of a book shelf and all the books were stacked on top of each other, rather than side by side, and they were arranged by color. I'd like to do this with my books. It looked really cool. But first I have to organize them in order of books I own but haven't read. Right next to me, within arms reach, are these excellent books I own but haven't read:

Native Son - richard wright.
A Confederacy of Dunces - john kennedy toole
The Woman Warrior - maxine hong kingston
The Corrections - jonathan franzen (I actually read about half of this and then lost it and then found it and never started it again)
Orlando - virginia wolf
Women in Love - d.h. lawrence

And that's just on one small bookshelf. There are more on the other bookshelves. Not too many more but I think that one is too many. Not to mention the books I want to read that I don't own. Not to mention the books that haven't been written yet. Not to mention the books in other languages that I'll never read because I can't read in very many languages.

Marya! Before I forget! Tell Alex thanks for putting Liz Phair on my laptop a year ago. I really love her and I want to marry her and I just remembered that he put two of her albums on there. I couldn't remember before.

Oh, and fucking Marigold is fucking knocked up like a dirty whore again. While here I stand barren. I'm going to start telling people I'm barren when they ask if I want to have children. Or when they say, "I love children." Or when they say "Hello, how are you today?" "Barren," I'll reply.

No Country for Old Men is really really good and so is Steven King's The Mist. I was left by Mr. King with a big wide open mouth, mouth agape, Agape Agape, at the end of His The Mist. I'm glad I didn't read the novella before I saw the movie. I'm glad I didn't know how it was going to end. Also, I thought Marcia Gay Harden was so great and it was the best advertisement for why religious people should be shot dead and should not be allowed to just be considered harmless old crackpots that everyone agrees to just ignore because they aren't hurting anyone. They are very hurtful. They are hurting all of is. I've been watching a lot of videos on stumbler from Sam Harris and besides the fact that I want to marry him because he is totally cute I also think he's got some great arguments against blithely accepting and tolerating, being tolerant of, religion and religious people and also against people who consider themselves moderately religious. Moderates are the biggest enemies of democracy, or Sam Harris might have you believe. And god help us if the moderates decide that questioning Mitt Romney on his bizarre religion is rude or somehow intolerant. Because there are some serious concerns. Serious concerns. Sorry, mormons who might be reading this right now. Actually, wait, no. Not sorry, mormons who might be reading this right now. Romney is dangerous.

Get on Board, Doctors.

I'm with Doctors With Borders. We mostly take care of the ill who live in our apartments. Don't get out much, us.

I'm going to go see Steven King's The Mist. I read a review of it that mentioned how silly it is to call it Steven King's The Mist. There is a word for that. Putting the The in the middle like that. I don't know what it is but in the review, which was actually on that site where people who haven't seen the movies review the movies, they said that it would be like if Steven Spielberg had called Schindler's List, Oskar Schindler's The List. I'm hoping that The Mist is a lot like Schindler's List. It starts at 6:25 and I am killing time between now (6:07) and then. I'll tell you what I did today.

I slept for a long long long time. I went to sleep late so that's probably why I slept until 11:45. I woke up with a feather between my lips. Now I have avian flue or bird aids. Then I tried to get onto the internet to see what was shakin' but nothing was shakin' except for everything outside my apartment because it has been windy all day. Windy Windy. Like, way way windy. The internet wasn't working, I think because of the wind. Last time it was this windy the internet stopped working for a week and a half and I was very frustrated. It isn't my internet, see, so I can't just call up and tell the internet that they'd better get crackin'. So then I watched a movie. I watched Talk To Her. It was really great. Then I took a bath and read this book that I've been trying to read for a year. Then I took a shower. Then I just piddled around and got dressed and stuff. Then I drove to the campus with my laptop and parked in the parking lot and read my email and some other stuff. Then I went to eat some food because all I ate at home was a banana. I didn't mention that I'd eaten a banana. I had a banana and two cookies, actually, and a cup of tea.

So then I ate at the mexican restaurant up the street from where I live. I had flautas with chicken. Then I came back to the campus and checked my email again and decided to write this while I waited for the movie to start.

My life is so boring.

Shit I won't get around to ever

I was going to compose an interesting poem using the craigslist responses I've gotten but I got bored of it and it is so sad. I'll have to work on that for another day.

I was also going to compose an interesting poem using the google chats between Marigold and I but every single thing we write or say is perfect and golden that I couldn't edit it and it went on for too long.


I was also going to tell you all about how much I liked No Cuntry for Old Men. This is a movie about how hard it is for Old Men to get young lady sex in America. Tommy Lee Jones tries through the whole movie just to find one lady that will have sex with him for no money, just for the fun of it, and he can't find a single one in all of America. Josh Brolin too, and he isn't even an old man. Javier Bardem can have sex with anyone he wants in America and even he can't get any in this movie. Woody Harrelson is also in it and he doesn't even have sex. There is no sex in this movie and it is so difficult to watch. I really feel sad for those old men.

I liked it though. You should see it.

I'm bored at work right now. Portobello Mushrooms, fried, and on top of a spinach salad is like shit, fried, on top of a shit salad. I've had someone to entertain me but it was just an electronic correspondence like Sam Pink. Pam Stink.
or like Marigold.

Portobello Road! Portobello Road! Street where the riches of ages are stowed.
Anything and everything a chap can unload.

When is aunt tuney going to put up her movies and pictures from thanksgiving? I need to know. Jesus I'm bored at work. Jesus!