All you do is sit around all day long until I get home and tell you what to do. God forbid you take a little initiative and harvest these crops while I am at WORK. You are not a puppet. You have a mind of your own, so do something around here for Christ sake!

I’m not asking much, just maybe rake up some leaves or collect a little horsehair. And really, how embarrassed am I that whenever someone comes over we have weeds, or crows. Then who looks like the shithead? Me! They all think it’s my farm, but we’re in on this 50/50, buddy. Who did I buy the cottage for? You! Who got a sweet new push lawnmower? You! Not that you would know how to use it.

And for the love of God, did you even notice that we have a cow in the top of our Dairy Farm? How the fuck did it get up there!? You’re walking around this place all day long. You didn’t stop for a second and think “wait a minute, there’s a 1,500 pound cow peaking his head out of a window that is barely big enough for a rabbit.” Who, by the way, are never in their cages!

So now I gotta come home, get out the fork lift and try to shimmy that fat ass out of the top of the Dairy Barn. Really, what a great way to end my day. And you just stood there looking at me like a retarded dog. Not even offering to help.

Last week when I was out of town and all that corn went bad, tell me why you didn’t harvest it in my absence. You have the harvester parked right there. You have a shed full of tools. You saw it turning brown and you didn’t do a God damned thing. Why? Because you’re an asshole.

Should I even mention the fact that now you’re buying Reindeer? What the fuck am I going to do with Reindeer? I’m not Kris Kringle. I have zero God damned interest in Reindeer, but now I have fifteen of them sitting on my property, eating my food and making piles of glorious Yuletide Reindeer shit that I have to shovel up.

And as if I don’t have enough work to do, anytime I am out on the farm, all your buddies keep sending me messages like “Hey, can you come help me out on my farm?” Are. You. Kidding. ME? These freeloaders can get right in line to kiss my ass — right behind you.

I feed you. I clothe you. I pick out your hair style and skin tone and all you do is sit around here all day long looking into the sky at an exact 45 degree angle? I’m sick of it. Either you start pulling your weight around here or I am shipping you off to Farmtown where the rest of the losers are.

I’ve really been trying to give Twitter a fair chance here. Do I understand what it does? No. Do I see it’s purpose? Barely. Do I update several times a day? Absolutely. And I have no idea why. I feel an obligation for some reason, but I also enjoy living inside social media. I can get into a whole dissertation here on the mechanics of social media here and why Twitter flourishes, but that’s for another day.

Luckily for me, I follow almost exclusively educated, smart, funny people. They spell things correctly. Write in sentences. Hardly, if ever wander into “text language” (i.e. “Ur” & “L8r”). For this I am thankful. But I do like to wander into the “Trending Topics” from time to time to make sure I am staying hip to any and everything. This is where idiots shine. Tonight, I read this:

yoo do any one noe wats realy gud wit t-mobile why dey not letting no one text

Did that really just happen?

I won’t even tell you his name because I don’t care to add to his 13 followers, but from what I can deduce, there appears to be a problem with T-Mobile’s service. I only got to this conclusion after reading several other tweets in this same trend. But what Captain Grammar poses here is almost a deeper question about T-Mobile. After spending several hours on Urban Dictionary, I was able to figure out that “wats realy gud” becomes “what’s really good [with T-Mobile].” Now, whereas “what’s really good” is also a greeting in some circles, I’m led to believe this person is working on more of a phylisophical level. What’s really good with T-Mobile?

Wow. Well, what’s really good with any of us? You’re asking, on a deeper level, are we innately good people or rather products of a negative environment? But since we create the environment for which we live, how are we truly products of anything other than ourselves? So on that level, if we create and thus can destroy ourselves and our environments, then it would seem to me that you have answered your own question, sir.

T-Mobile (known as “dey”) aren’t the ones stopping you from texting. You are. T-Mobile is your (our) creation, so they exists only on a single, non-physical plane whereas we (known as “any one”) exist on multiple planes — the physical and the spiritual. So “why dey not letting no one text” isn’t about a mobile phone carrier or a piece of technology. It’s about you. You did this. So turn the mirror around, buddy and ask yourself “what’s really good with ME?”

Damn. I need to lay off the Mescaline.

Much like I did last year, I have compiled my list of the Hottest Christmas Gifts this year. I use a very simple, scientific formula: I use a random word generator, enter that word into EBay and pick the most expensive item listed. My logic is that with things like the Nintendo Wii and Tickle Me Elmo grabbing huge bids on there, I am sure there’s many other things we don’t even know about. With only a few weeks left in the shopping season, I present you with the five Hottest Gifts of the year!

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1.) Search Word: “Birthday”
ANIMATED CHARACTER ROBOT PIANO PLAYER

Odds are your child spends a lot of time sleeping. Well, there will be no more of that with this wonderful gift sitting in their room. A robotic, wolf-like creature playing sinister piano tunes 24 hours a day. This Christmas, introduce your child to the sweet taste uncontrollable fear and nightmarish horror while a Chuck-E-Cheese reject peers over their motionless body. Oh, did I mention it’s voice controlled and comes with a wireless microphone? Still on the fence? Check out this creepy video.
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2.) Search Word: “Over”
AIRCRAFT & AVIATION HARDWARE

Unlock the little Howard Hughes in your child with $150,000 worth of aircraft hardware. Over two-million nuts and bolts which will undoubtedly find their way into your heating ducts, couch cusions, sink drains and more while your child attempts and inevitably fails to build and/or repair their own flying machine. At least you tried to stimluate a dream in them, though. Aircraft engineers make good livings. Too bad the closest they’ll ever get it to watch the film Con-Air.
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3.) Search Word: “Tanks”
FROZEN CUSTARD MACHINE

With childhood obesity on the rise, what better to give you child this year than a top of the line frozen custard machine. You thought your kid was fat and lazy before. Ha! You ain’t seen nothing yet. He or she can load up to three flavors, lie directly underneath the nozzle and just suck away the sadness. Better yet, encourage them to start their own business selling treats to their friends after school. What’s that, little Timmy? You didn’t know that you needed a permit for your food cart? Mr. Health Inspector’s not gonna like the looks of this!

4.) Search Word: “Terminology”
DELMARS MEDICAL TERMINOLOGY VIDEO SERIES

If your kids are like most, they love watching episodes of “House.” The real drag, though, is that they can’t follow it as closely as they would like to because of all the random medical terminology. Luckily for them, Delmars offers this fantastic 14 Tape Series of nothing but medical terms. Delivered to you on VHS (something your child doesn’t even know exists) by a monotone lecture speaker. If this doesn’t lead your child to early alcohol abuse, nothing will.
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5.) Search Word: “Spin”
SPIN ACE EXCAVATOR

At the end of the day, someone needs to bury those tree stumps in the yard. Who better than your eight year old? Get them behind this beautiful piece of equiptment and have them on the fast track to owning their own demolition crew some day. By setting them free in the yard with this beauty, you’re teaching them responsibility, hand-eye coordination and the joy of sitting alone all day on a job site while their boss rides their ass via walkie talkie in his cushy, air conditioned office. Just make sure they check for gas lines before they start digging or else they might…

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

P.S. You can listen to me previewing my list of hot gifts on Ted & Amy below!

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Dear President of Fast Food,

This must stop. It has gotten out of control and it doesn’t make any sense what so ever. What the hell IS it? A burrito with fried chicken? American’s aren’t smart. We eat what you tell us and this needs to be removed from our lives before we die.

I am of course addressing your newest fad- The Snack Wrap.

It’s not a meal, but millions of American’s buy them everyday. The problem is that since they aren’t a meal, we are buying them two or three at a time. That is no longer a snack. And even if we did buy one, why do we even need this mid-day snack? Stop forcing new meals on us. It goes Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner. The end!

And while we’re on the subject, can you please notify Taco Bell that we don’t need “The Fourth Meal.” We’re already fat. Let us sleep, please.

Oh, and as long as you are talking to them, tell them we do not need bacon on our tacos. The Bacon Ranch Double Decker? With all due respect, Taco Bell — go fuck yourselves.

So Mr. President, I thank you for your time in this matter and recognize all the positive changes you have made for us in the past (i.e. the hesitant destruction of the Mc Rib sandwich and the merging of A&W with KFC in town’s across this great nation).

You exist to make us fatter and lazier and I respect your line of work. Just please take another moment to review the Snackwrap, Snacker, Snack-Attack or whatever other play on the word “Snack” participating restaurants have come up with. Thank you.

Sincerely,
Joshua Grosvent

P.S. With that said, we do demand the prompt return of the Shamrock shake. I do apologize for my threatening letters regarding this and I will not violate your restraining order in any way, but I am very passionate about it and refuse to accept this whorish Shrek imitation shake. It’s NOT the same and I won’t drink it.

In a report released on Wednesday, Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke blamed declining real estate trends not on a struggling economy, but rather the clueless, self-serving parenting that has been sweeping the country.

“We recognize that recent economic downturns have a negative impact on the housing market,” said Bernanke “but more and more parents are being forced to sell their homes in order to afford their children.”

While the cost of raising a child has had a steady incline over the last century, more recently, many parents have developed something many child psychologists are calling the “Have It Your Way Method” (and many of those same psychologists are currently being sued by Burger King).

Parents across the country are so concerned with their child liking them that they buy them any and everything they demand with total disregard for their own well-being. Families all over the country are being forced to downsize their homes due to crippling credit card debt from things such as Hollister clothing, video game systems, Pizza Hut and cell phone ring tones.

Sherri Thomas of Syracuse, NY recently put her home on the market but is having trouble finding a buyer.

“For years, my husband and I worked 60 hour weeks so we could build a beautiful home,” said Sherri “but now that our daughter is 15 and our son is 17, we find it harder to afford the things they need. And if I don’t buy them what they need, then they get mad and don’t talk to me. I want my kids to like me.”

Sherri is not alone. Parents all over America are making up for their own high-school failures by flooding their children’s lives with thousands upon thousands of dollars in goods in an effort to seek their meaningless acceptance.

“It’s like, I know they need sneakers, but I had no idea my son needed a new pair ever week.” Continued Sherri. “I mean, the other ones look fine to me, but I guess he would know better than I do. He has to wear them. Whatever makes him happy. His friends call me the ‘cool mom.’ I’ve waited my whole life to be ‘cool’ anything!”

Chairman Bernanke warned parents “Just because your kids want something, doesn’t mean you have to buy it” he said. “If they get mad at you, who cares? They will get over it. Your first priority should be your home and putting food on the table. Not iTunes downloads and expensive hoodies.”

Bernanke continued, “I mean, if I can be blunt here; you’re turning your kids into assholes and we’ve got plenty of assholes in this country.”

The message fell short on Sherri Thomas, though. She has recently moved into a one bedroom apartment with her husband, but her children insisted on staying in her home until it sells claiming they need “the space to hang out with their friends.”

“I’m just happy they have friends” said Sherri. “I never had friends.”

Sherri’s biggest expenses are currently the mortgage for the house she can’t live in, her son’s S.U.V. payment, her daughter’s text message plan and the $40 a month she allows her and her husband to eat. She has applied for government aid to cover her diabetes medication and her husband’s recent back surgery. She has taken weekend job to cover the upcoming expenses of her daughter’s “Super Sweet 16″ party.

One of my favorite short stories of all time is a short story written by Ernest Hemingway. It’s only six words long, but really evokes emotion in me. It does exactly what a short story should do – allows you to take in the written text, but forces you to think about what hasn’t been written. It goes like this:

For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn.

It’s powerful, sad, enticing, everything. Is this a couple that has lost their baby and is selling the shoes to feed the rest of their children? Or did this couple simply have too many pairs of shoes and the baby never got a chance to wear these? It can go in a lot of different directions.

Now, I am not saying I am anywhere near the caliber of Ernest Hemingway, but I have felt inspired to attempt to write my own six-word stories and see if I can make them as effective as his. Here we go:

For Rent: One bedroom, no heat.

OK, so I kind of just copied the formula on that one and yes, it is more of a classified listing than story, but it’s a start. It makes you wonder “Why would this person feel the need to point out that the heat is broken?” Well, perhaps this person has gone through a life of dissappointment and heightened expectations and doesn’t want to force this potential renter to come in with the same expectations. Powerful. Let me try another one:

Do you like me? Yes/No

I’m happier with that one. It’s a play on the popular notes we would sometimes get in middle school. This isn’t so much a story about the note itself, but the answer. It’s a cliffhanger – if the recipient circles NO, then what happens to the sender? If the recipient circles YES, do they run off happily together? Exciting. One more:

Cabbage soup. Last call. No bread.

I don’t… yeah, I don’t even know what that one means. It’s kinda the first thing that came to my head and now I am really confused. Is it my last chance to get cabbage soup? Like last call at a bar? If that is the case, I guess I understand why they are out of bread, but I am not happy about it. I would think they would have more bread than soup. And really, if people are buying cabbage soup, I wouldn’t do a last call. Let that shit sell as long as possible.

Alright, I guess six-word stories aren’t as easy as I thought. In closing:

Ernest Hemingway. Functioning alcoholic. Cat Lover.

In a stunning move today in Washington, President Bush has decided to deploy ABC Television reality star “Jo Frost” (a.k.a. Supernanny) to various, undisclosed Middle Eastern locations. In a press conference made Friday, Mr. Bush said,

Jo Frost is one of America’s finest assets. She goes into people’s houses and just whips those kids into shape. Man, did you see how she pushed around that Oriental family? (President Bush then proceeded to make stereotypical Kung-Fu moves for roughly six minutes).

The President was not notified that Ms. Frost is actually not American, but British. Nor was he informed that “Oriental” is not the proper term for anyone of Asian decent.

Jo Frost’s ability to help families cope with their lack of organization and discipline could show to be a very valuable asset in these violet countries.

She is currently undergoing an abridged briefing/training process and plans to be deployed, against her will, by the end of the month.

When reached for comment, a representative from ABC television said,

Be sure to check out Supernanny every Wednesday at 9/8c only on ABC.

I am terrible at New Year’s Resolutions. I don’t like making promises I cannot keep, so this year I will make a resolution so outlandish that when I do end up failing at it, I won’t feel so terrible. I will also create that resolution right now — as I type — in a classic, Faulkner (or Edouard Dujardin / James Joyce for you literary critics out there) stream of consciousness technique. It’s good for the mind.

This year, I resolve to never let the ants get the best of me.

And if those ants do end up growing to superhuman size due to a vapors from Onondaga Lake, I vow to battle said ants with aerosol cans and road flares. If these ants cannot be burned, I will then fashion a gun of sorts out of the follow items: broken glass, PVC pipe, compressed air and rubber balls. I shall impact the glass shards into the rubber balls and fire them at high velocity using the compressed air (similar to a potato cannon).

I will then rummage through the back pack or qualified knap sack of said assassinated ant and attempt to find a map which will lead me back to the queen or the leaders at the base. I plan to weasel my way past the head ant guards by pretending to have a delivery for the leaders. They will question me at first, but will see that I have acquired and am wearing an official FTD Florists shirt and they will ask for no further credentials.

Upon reaching the inner sanctum, I will lay low and attempt to assess which ant is truly in power. Who do the other ants bow to? Who to they show the most respect? That will be my target.

Inside my bouquet, I will have hidden a vial of poison. I see to my left is the kitchen where the Cyber-Ants (yes, they are Cyber now) prepare all their meals. I slide in gracefully and peer over the counter top. In a MacGyver fashion, I throw a knife at the chef Ant’s head and he drops to the ground. I find in front of him the meal which he was preparing for Empanti Ant Quinti (the leader of this rouge, blood thirsty Cyber-Ant tribe).

I pour the poison into his bread because I know that an Ant’s sense of taste is unmatched by other bug and if it is hidden in his Olive Garden-style bread sticks, the garlic will mask the poison.

As Empati Ant Quinti goes over World domination plans with his minions, I will place his meal on the table so when he turns around, he will see it and begin to eat. This works.

He grasps his pincer-like mouth and rythes in agony as he too falls to the ground. His committee surrounds him and start yelling in Cyber-Ant gibberish I cannot begin to understand. As I run for the door, I see a switch on the wall and I pull it. An alarm sounds and the main door begins to close. As I get closer, it gets lower and a Cyber-Ant soldier jumps in front to grab me. As I slide between his legs, I grab a grenade from his belt, pull the pin with my teeth and throw it behind me just as the door closes with me safely on the other side. I dive behind a dumpster as a large explosion destroys the main core and the Cyber-Ants start to malfunction.

Behind the dumpster I find a high-powered Hoverboard from Back to The Future and fly off into the distance. A woman shouts out

“We love you Joshua! You saved us all.”

This year, I resolve to never let the Ants get the best of me.

In a stunning move made today, local man Jim Rainer purchased everything in a local discount store. Rainer, a 28-year-old stock boy from Clay, descended upon The Christmas Tree Shops of Northern Lights Plaza in Syracuse Tuesday afternoon planning only to purchase a birthday gift for his mother.

My mom needed a birthday gift and I thought to myself ‘Well, Jim, that Christmas Tree place has a bunch of cheap stuff. I should go check it out’ so I did.

Upon further exploration of the store, Rainer discovered various trinkets and poorly made items that appealed to his budget and “probably” to his mother’s taste.

Rainer decided on a small figurine of an angel, a poster of a ghost wearing a pumpkin mask, a bag of holiday tinsel and two mismatched barstools for his mother’s 50th birthday.

I got to the counter and she rang it all up. It came to like 80 cents or something crazy like that.

As he opened his wallet, he discovered a $100 bill he had no idea existed.

I think I won it during Monday Night Football, but I have no idea. I pulled it out and jokingly said ‘I’ll take everything in the store’ and they said ‘OK!’ I swear to God, dude.

Promptly after Rainer made his buy, the workers locked the doors and started loading every item in the store onto palates and moved it to the loading dock. Rainer has been making trips between Northern Lights Plaza and his home in Clay non-stop for the last 26 hours using only his 1991 Volkswagen Jetta.

Carolyn Spives, a Christmas Tree Shops representative issued the following statement:

It is truly the largest purchase ever made at any of our establishments to date. Mr. Rainer has been contacted by the owners and personally thanked for his business. We at the Christmas Tree Shops value all of our customers and will have our Northern Lights Plaza location restocked with even shittier cheap shit as soon as we possibly can.

When asked what he plans to do with all these items, Rainer responded by saying,

Christmas!

In the distance, a trombone made a Whaa Whaaaa sound.

The “Hillbilly Hound” made famous as one of the Pizza Time Players along side such talents as Chuck E. Cheese and Mr. Munch was found dead at his home in Santa Monica, CA Monday evening. His body was discovered by two of the three Warblettes – the whorish magpie backup singers for The Pizza Time Band

Mr. Jowels was said to be found hunched over his kitchen table with “paraphernalia” scattered around him. Officials have not yet released a cause of death, but are calling it “suspicious.”

As of press time, Chuck E. Cheese and The King could not be reached for comment. Mr. Jowels first ex-wife, Harmony Howlette did have this to say:

“Jasper was a true talent and a spectacular lover. He will be sorely missed.”