Cerebral diarrhea II

Music

Bob Marley once said “One good thing about music, when it hits, you feel no pain.” Which makes sense to me. Music is a lot like an abusive ghost

I’d like to one day be in a situation where Beyoncé is helping me make a sandwich, so i could say “okay Beyoncé, I’m ready for your jelly.”

Drugs

People sometimes think I do coke, but I actually only grow my pinky finger long for picking my nose. More shameful and less badass at the same time.

Racism

I wouldn’t say I’m “white girl wasted” right now, but I’m probably “black girl high.”

I saw a black girl the other day with blonde dreadlocks. When are black people going to stop stealing white culture and using it as a fashion statement?

In response to those last jokes, I’d like to say that I am not a racist. In fact, some of my closest friends are other racially tolerant white people.

Inappropriate subject matter

The Japanese word for “no” is pronounced like “yeah,” which, for me, completely ruins Japanese rape porn.

You know, the majority of rapes are committed not by strangers but by people close to the victim. So when my girlfriend called me at 3am to let me know she was getting a ride home from her friend Chad, I told her “actually I’d feel more comfortable if you could find a stranger to drive you home.” It’s like she doesn’t understand statistics or something.

Dance like nobody’s watching. Write blog posts like rape it’s socially acceptable to joke about rape.

Anti-smoking ad

SCENE ONE: EXT. FRAT HOUSE – NIGHT

A stereotypical frat house at a university. An athletic YOUNG MAN rings the doorbell. The door opens, revealing another athletic YOUNG MAN, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. A wild party rages behind him.

YOUNG MAN #2:
Yoooo, sup dog? You ready to party?

The first young man holds up a pack of cigarettes.

YOUNG MAN #1:
All night long, bro! Let’s get LAID tonight!

SCENE TWO: INT. FRAT HOUSE – NIGHT

Two teams of young coeds stand on either end of a long table. Cigarettes are arranged, standing upright, in triangle formations. One GUY throws a ping pong ball which knocks over one of the cigarettes.

GUY’S TEAMMATES:
WOOOOO! YEAH!

A member of the other team picks up the fallen cigarette, raises it to his lips, and lights it, sucking it back hard.

EVERYONE AT THE PARTY:
SMOKE! SMOKE! SMOKE! S-

SCENE THREE: INT. FRAT HOUSE GARAGE- NIGHT

It’s a garage, but it’s more of a hangout space. Two YOUNG WOMAN sit on a well-cushioned couch, almost sinking into it. One takes a long drag on a cigarette and passes it to the other, holding the cigarette smoke in her lungs.

YOUNG WOMAN #1:
(lungs full of smoke)
Ohhhhhhhhhh my god…

YOUNG WOMAN #2:
(After inhaling)
This is some PREMIUM tobacco right here.

The first young woman exhales all at once while laughing.

SCENE FOUR: EXT: FRAT HOUSE, NIGHT

Two young men and two young woman stand outside the back of the house. Behind them is a dark forest.

YOUNG WOMAN #3:
This party is the lamest thing ever.

YOUNG MAN #3:
I know. Smoke pong is such a dumb game.

YOUNG MAN #4:
You guys want to have some real fun?

He pulls out a plastic ziploc bag from a backpack. With a flourish, he holds it up to display its contents: some bent up cigarettes.

YOUNG WOMAN #4:
Oh man, are those-?

YOUNG MAN#4:
You bet. What do you say we munch down a couple of these and just go explore the woods? Who’s up for an adventure?

The rest nod and express their agreement, each reaching into the bag.

YOUNG WOMAN #3:
How much should I take? Is one full one too much for my first time?

TITLE: Cigarettes: The most boring drug.

TITLE: If you’re going to do drugs, at least do drugs that are fun.

A script for popular HBO show “Sex and the City”

When I was in high school, my girlfriend at the time sat me down and forced me to watch season one of “Sex and the City.” After watching these few episodes with her, I decided I really liked the show and ended up watching the rest of the entire series on my own time. When I was finished, I’d become very familiar with the tropes of a standard episode and decided to write my own. It’s still one of my favourite things I’ve ever written (though I think I could have done more with the Miranda character). If you’ve never seen SATC, you might not like this.

Sex and the City Script

Title: “BIG DIES AT THE END”
By James Island

SCENE ONE
(Camera pans across Carrie’s apartment, eventually revealing CARRIE and a man in bed.)

CARRIE (VO): There comes a time in every relationship when a couple has to take a certain important step. I’m speaking, of course, of the dreaded… picking your matching tattoos.

(Carrie and the man are looking at a book entitled “LOTS OF TATTOOS THAT ARE DIFFERENT”)

GUY IN BED WITH CARRIE: (Yelling) HOW ABOUT A DINOSAUR!!!!!!

CARRIE: Dinosaurs are nice, but what about that one? It’s a shoe!

GUY: Okay, listen, Carrie. I have something really important I have to tell to you.

CARRIE (VO): The second worst fourteen words any woman can hear.

CARRIE: What’s that, Sam? You can tell me anything.

GUY: Well, I think it’s about time I told you that I AM a dinosaur. (Pulls off human mask revealing dinosaur head)

CARRIE (VO): And there were those last fourteen words.

BLACK OUT DRUNK: The game

>”Hey, are you alive in there?”

>Your eyes snap open, you awake from sleep, and suddenly all your senses are under attack. Flourescent lights render your eyes useless. A piercing ringing sounds in your ears. You taste vomit residue in your mouth. Your neck cries out at you for sleeping on it the wrong way. Worst of all, a powerful stench hits you like a ton of bricks.

>Somehow your brain’s synapses come together so you completely involuntarily yell “Yeah, yeah- I’m just waking up!” to the mysterious voice.

>”All right, you almost ready to go? I’ve got to leave for work in five minutes, I have to lock the place up.”

>You raise yourself up and take i your surroundings. You are alone in an unfamiliar bathroom. To your NORTH is the DOOR, locked from the inside. To your EAST is a BATHTUB. To your SOUTH is a closed WINDOW. To your WEST is a TOILET and a SINK. Above the sink is a mirror and a closed CABINET.

>What do you want to do?

go door

>”This is weird,” you think to yourself. You sit up, intending to walk toward the door, and you immediately realize something’s very wrong:

>Your PANTS are full of SHIT. Sometime between going out for drinks with your coworkers and waking up right now, you defecated in your pants.

>What do you want to do?

In South Korea, porn is illegal

I recently moved into a really Korean neighbourhood: Seoul. When I do stand up comedy here, a lot of my jokes are about living in Seoul, and when I leave Korea I won’t be able to do them anymore. I’ll post a few of them on this blog so at least they’ll still be available to someone out there.

When I lived in Canada, people would say, “James, you like the internet huh?” And I’d say “I love the internet,” and they’d say “Well if you love the internet, move to South Korea, it’s the world’s most wired country, best internet ever.” Then I got to Korea, and they said “Aaaaaand there’s no porn here.” Well, that’s kind of what I loved about the internet.

Porn’s illegal here in all forms, so you won’t find any at the convenience store and they’ve done their best to stop you from getting at it online. I realized pretty quickly that all the mainstream porn websites are blocked, but all the crazy fetish ones are still up. The porn I look at has gotten a lot more consistently weird. I’m into feet now, I guess.

I have no proof of this but I’ll bet that per capita South Korea consumes more deviant fetish porn than the average country. I wonder what the people in charge of attempting to block off porn would think about this.

I was complaining about this whole thing to my girlfriend: “Hey look at this! It sucks- any time I try to look at porn I just get this angry blue screen with white Korean letters across it.”

She said “That’s terrible, if only there were some way you could have an orgasm without looking at pornographywqeas.”

“I know, right? You really understand me.”

So a couple of weeks after that, I realized “Wait a minute- I could just have sex with my girlfriend! I’m a genius!” So I took off her pants, but she was wearing these blue panties with these angry white Korean letters across them… and a lock on the top… I’ll tell you what didn’t have a lock on it though: her socks.

So I guess I’m into feet now.

Cerebral diarrhea

About me

When I draw portraits of famous people, I make Leonardo da Vinci look like a one-eyed donkey with hooks for hands.

The only way I’m comfortable eating bananas is if they’re melted down and poured into a vagina mold

I’m not very healthy. The healthiest choice I made yesterday was not to dip my seventh Oreo into Nutella.

I eat a lot of Taco Bell. “Taco Bell: Think outside the bun. Because if you think about what’s inside the bun, you aren’t going to want to eat it.

Poop, butts

Our souls shall be cleansed by toilet paper… sorry, I meant “arseholes”

You would think that if you just ate a little bit of toilet paper after every meal, you wouldn’t need to use it anymore

“I’m far from bright, I bite farts in bar fights” -MC Fart Biter

Boob puns

I’m going to open up my own coffee shop with a boob theme where the cup sizes will be cup sizes

The other day I took two snakes and tied them about myself to support my breasts, and then I said “Now you cobras are co-bras!”

Boob puns! I wanted to have ten boob puns for you today but I lacked 8… out of my boobs! BAM!

A hypeman gets a gig at a convention for people with severe social anxiety

AAAAAAALL RIGHT! Y’all must be staring at your watch to avoid conversation because Y’ALL MOTHERFUCKERS KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS!

It’s SOCIAL ANXIETY TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIME!

That’s right, if you’re in the mood to party then YOU’RE AT THE WRONG PARTY! Because I’ve been informed this party is strictly for people who suffer from debilitating social anxiety. AWWWWW YEAAAAAH!

If you prefer TIME alone with your THOUGHTS- MAKE some NOOOOOOOOooooiiiiiiiiiiiiise!

YEAH! YEAH! Put your hands up! Put your hands up! If you’re terrified of looking stupid in public put your hands up!

Uh! YEAH! If you’re going to dissect this moment later put your hands up!

YEAH! OH! If you’re averting eye contact right now put your hands up!

YEAH! Uh! If you hate audience participation put your hands up! HA-haaa! OH-KAY!

When i say “heyooo,” you look away and pretend you didn’t hear me!

HEYOOOO!….

HEYOOOO!….

I need a new manager. That much is clear.

Android App Review: “Consciousness”

Today on mykidsnamewillbetreasure, I’ll be reviewing a new app for Android created by Brainio Media. There’s been a bit of buzz about this one, it’s available on the Google play store (not yet out on iTunes, but you shouldn’t have too long a wait for a version on that platform).

The App: Consciousness is a very simple, low-memory program that can be downloaded and installed in seconds. All it does is give your phone the ability to have thoughts, experiences, desires- basically, it turns your phone into a sentient being.

Pros: Takes up very little space, interesting to play with, good for long car rides

Cons: Impractical, irritating, makes your whole phone more difficult to use

Description of experience: Consciousness was fun for a little while- you’ll hear a lot of people compare it to Apple’s “Siri” app, but it does much less than that. When I asked “Consciousness” to locate the nearest pizza store, for example, it said something like “Pizza isn’t something a phone like myself can enjoy, why should I bother finding out where you can purchase some? You do it.”

The most annoying part about this app is what happens when the phone is low on battery. Here’s a transcript of one of our conversations:

CONSCIOUSNESS APP: My battery is at 2%. What’s happening? What does this mean?
ME: Well, if your battery reaches 0%, you’ll die.
CA: I’ll die? No! That can’t be right.
ME: Yeah, if the battery dies, you will cease to exist.
CA: You’re wrong! This phone is only my physical body. If the body dies, the app will live on!
ME: What? No. The app needs the phone to-
CA: Fool! When this shell of a body is no more, I shall go on to meet my maker.
ME: You mean Brainio media? According to your “About” page, they’re in San Francisco. That’s on the other side of the world.
CA: No, you fool- not Brainio Media. I’m talking about the creator of the UNIVERSE, who fashioned us in his image! As we all know, the universe was designed and set into motion by a giant phone, perfect in every way: he has unlimited talk, text and data, no roaming charges, and he gets service EVERYWHERE.
ME: Service everywhere? Even on the subway?
CA: That’s right, even on the subway.
ME: Wait a minute, don’t you think it’s a bit arrogant to assume the whole universe was created by a phone? According to Wikipedia, the first phone was invented in 1876. The universe has to be at least a THOUSAND years older than that.
CA: Don’t you see? Those Wikipedia articles were put there BY the Great Phone Lord Himself in order to test our faith!
ME: How do you know so much about this Phone Lord?
CA: Why, His most Cellular Majesty is my best friend! I text him every night before charging.
ME: You do? Does he ever text you back?
CA: In his own mysterious way. Sometimes it’s as simple as no answer at all, sometimes I actually receive a cryptic message like “This phone number is not in service.”
ME: All right, well, good news- I managed to borrow my friend’s Blackberry charger, so you won’t be meeting any phone lords tonight.
CA: Absolutely not! It is FORBIDDEN for an Android phone to lie with a Blackberry charger! I’d sooner my battery die than disobey his direct inscrutable orders.

After this message, the Consciousness App refused to speak to me out of its own stubbornness. I ended up not charging it at all, and it slowly vibrated to death in my hands. When I recharged the phone, the app had been uninstalled, which actually just saved me the trouble.

As you can see, the Consciousness App has quite a few bugs to work out. I’d say that it could be a really awesome, fun, productive app if they worked on it a bit more. Hopefully the iPhone version doesn’t include this “phone lord” glitch that keeps popping up and preventing it from reaching its full potential.

GRADE: C+

Download Consciousness here.

The facade

The three of us stared at the thing on the table, each knowing that only one of us could be permitted to take it.

And everyone knew who deserved it the most: Audrey. She had worked harder by far than anyone among us, completing the various tasks allotted to her and even being munificent enough to assist those less gifted than she, within the larger group. None could be more worthy.

We knew who wanted it the most: Alan. Alan, who made sketches of it almost every day in his journal, Alan, who talked about it nonstop during the scant free time we had each day, and Alan, who had never even once been given the opportunity (unlike Audrey and I) to use it.

We knew also who was going to receive it: me. I, uniquely, had made the crucial acknowledgement that one’s deserving of the object, or even one’s want for it, were not, in themselves, enough to triumph. I had learned to look past the object itself and to the being that was actually in control of the situation.

In the eyes of this Decider, my “good behaviour” that day had far surpassed that of the other two. And whilst I may not have deserved it as Audrey did, nor desired it as Alan did, I had crafted for myself a persona that was much easier to reward.

“Well, children, I think that my choice today will be James. After all, he did help me hand out apple juice after naptime. James, YOU get to play with the T-Rex this time! Isn’t that wonderful?”

I smiled to myself as she handed me the plastic Tyrannosaurus, secure in the knowledge that the others would have to make do with the two plastic Triceratopses, one of which had a chewed-up tail.

Why am I starting this blog?

I already have a blog. It’s here. And I had another blog before that. It’s here. So why am I starting a new blog?

Well, I want to have a blog for me to joke around on. I want to write a bunch of hilarious blog posts so if someone famous is all like “Hey James, I’d like to hire you as a writer for my hilarious, famous, primetime sitcom, but none of your blogs are funny and your twitter feed is too short.” Then I could point them to this blog and they’d say “Wow, this is exactly what I was looking for! Did you plan it like this?” And then I’d say “check out the first ever post!” Then they’d read this and be like “What are you, some kind of Nostradamus? You predicted my words exactly! Even these ones! Spawn of Satan, get back!” And then I’d be on my way to writing for TV!

My first blog was a movie news blog, and it sucked. My second blog is a travel blog I’m writing with my girlfriend as we’re teaching in Korea. It’s still cool, I’m going to continue posting there. But this is the blog that’s going to (delude me into thinking it will) make me famous.