My Friend, “The Wizard”

Probably my best friend in the whole wide world is a guy I like to call, “The Wizard.” Of course, that’s not his real name (it’s Brad), but I call him The Wizard because he’s really, really good at pinball. Also, another way he is like a wizard, is that he can see the future through his crystal ball and shoot lightning out of his enchanted wooden staff.

Evil WizardI still remember the first time I met The Wizard. I was at the beach, when all of a sudden this big tidal wave came out of nowhere. To get away, I ran up to the top of the highest beach cliff I could find, and there he was. I was scared as heck, but The Wiz wasn’t worried at all. In fact, as the wave approached, he was laughing and pretending to make it grow bigger by raising his arms and pulling them towards him. I would find out later that The Wizard likes to pretend like this a lot.

Right away the two of us hit it off, and The Wizard took me back to his place to hang out. However, he said the location was a secret (he likes his privacy), so he had to blindfold me. He also gagged me and tied my hands behind my back “just in case.” I didn’t think it was necessary. I mean, how does a gag in my mouth keep me from knowing where I’m going? But that’s The Wiz for you – better safe than sorry.

The Wizard lives in a cave somewhere on the outskirts of town. He’s got all sorts of cool things in there – a bunch of old rare books, a black cauldron, plenty of eye of newt. In other words, it’s a total bachelor pad. I told him how great his place was, and he said, “Good, because you’re going to be here for a long, long time.” Isn’t that sweet? He knew right away we’d be friends forever.

In fact, The Wizard must have known I was looking for a place to live, because he said I could stay in his guest bedroom. I said, “the one with the giant king-sized bed?” And he replied, “no the one with the bars on the front.”

So I’ve been living in the guest bedroom for a while now, and I have to say it’s been a lot of fun. The Wizard’s always playing funny pranks on me. For example, one time he sprinkled me in this dust and my skin melted right off of me! He got me good that time.

Don’t worry, though, my skin grew back (eventually). Plus, I got him back with a prank of my own. Once, he was walking by my room and I reached out and gave him the biggest Wet Willie! Boy, did that make him mad. He was all cursing and telling me that he was going to turn me into a donkey and make me plough his fields. Okay, big guy. Sure you are!

One thing I don’t like, however, is the other three guys that I have to share my room with. I don’t think a day goes by that they’re not crying about something or complaining about the rat stew that The Wizard keeps feeding us. I mean, honestly, here The Wizard is cooking us a nice meal, and all they can do is complain. I guess some people are just never satisfied.

I keep telling The Wizard that we’d have a lot more fun without the other guys – you know, the Two Musketeers and all – but he’s just got too big of a heart to kick anyone out. I mean, he doesn’t even ask us to pay rent. How nice is that?

I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’d put up with a thousand other roommates just to be able to hang out with my best buddy. I told him we should plan a road trip for the summer – maybe go to Cabo or something – but he says it would be safer for all of us if I just stayed in my room. And I guess that’s why he’s my best buddy in the whole wide world – because no matter what, he’s always putting my safety and happiness first. What a guy.


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How To Safely Roll Down the Side of a Hill

Hills. They truly are Mother Nature’s roller coasters. They go up, then down, then…well I guess that’s about all they do. But still, if you take away the spins, turns, loop-de-loops – pretty much everything after the first drop of a roller coaster – and I guess you could still say that hills are Mother Nature’s roller coasters.

Okay, scratch that. Let’s start over.

Hills. They truly are Mother Nature’s plane crashes. They go up, then down (quickly). We’ve all rolled down a hill at one point or another. And whether rolling down the hill was intentional or not, we were squealing and laughing with delight like a little schoolgirl by the time we got to the bottom.

Unsafe hill rolling procedure
Unsafe hill rolling procedure

Now that summer is upon us, you’ve no doubt got your first day of hill rolling all planned out. But before you run willy-nilly up the first hill you see, it’s important to remember safety first. No one wants to get a sprained ankle or snapped neck while rolling down a hill (because then your days of rolling down hills will be over)! Here’s how to stay safe when rolling down hills:

Choose your hill wisely: not all hills are safe to roll down. Rolling down grassy hills with a medium grade is probably a recipe for success. Rolling down bumpy hills or dirt-covered hills may result in bruises or scuffed knees. Additionally, rolling down Jonah Hills may result in angry scowls and a barrage of obscenities.

Wear proper safety gear: Your friends may think it is “uncool” to wear safety gear, but trust me, it’s a lot “cooler” than spending the rest of your life in a hospital bed with a snapped neck. As such, a smart hill roller always wears three important items – a helmet, knee pads, and a magical wizard’s talisman of invincibility.

Try to avoid snakes and spider webs. Remember, your wizard’s talisman does not protect against poison. Avoiding all snakes and spiders during your descent is imperative. If there are too many snakes or spiders to avoid, try to aim for the ones that are sleeping or not paying attention to what is going on (they probably won’t have time to bite you).

Know the difference between a hill and a cliff. Understanding this vital fact can be the difference between having a fun day in the grass and a fun day at the morgue.

Wait your turn. If you’ve found a good hill, it will no doubt be crowded with other people wanting to roll down it. With all the excitement, it’s tempting to just push your way through the line and scream about how it’s “your turn” as you race to the top. But hurtling down the hill out of turn could have you colliding into a fellow roller on the way down.

Protect yourself from other rollers. Just because you had the restraint to wait your turn doesn’t mean everyone will. Therefore, to warn people who are simultaneously rolling down the same hill of your presence, you should scream loudly and constantly. Good things to yell include, “I’M OVER HERE!” “WATCH OUT BELOW!” and “WHEEEEE!”

Don’t run back up the hill. As soon as you’re done rolling, you’re gonna be pretty amped to get back up there and do it again. This will tempt you to jump up and just run back up the hill as fast as possible. But don’t forget, other people are rolling too. To avoid getting hit, walk around to the other side of the hill before heading back up. (Tip: if you happen to see someone running back up the hill while you are rolling,try to knock them over for extra “bonus” points.)


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Men, It’s About Time We Hunted Down the Swamp Monster

Men, I’ve had it with that swamp monster! We’re tired, because we’re too afraid to sleep at night. We’re hungry, because we’ve been cut off from our main food source – swamp algae. And worst of all, WE’RE BORED, because our main fun source – the jump rope barn – is located on the other side of the swamp bridge.

Guys, OUR DOUBLE DUTCH TOURNAMENT IS IN TWO WEEKS! And I don’t know about you, but my squad really needs to practice our Crab Hops and Mule Kicks. Also, a super secret move that I’m not at liberty to discuss.

swampmonster thingMen, it’s time we finally hunted down and killed the swamp monster!

So far, we’ve been lucky. No one’s been killed or even hurt. But we all know it’s only a matter of time. We’ve all seen the menacing way he (she?) eagerly smiles and waves to any passersby who are unlucky enough to run afoul of the ghastly beast.

No doubt it is smiling because it is imagining how good our brains would taste smothered in swamp algae. And sure, it probably would taste pretty delicious – anything smothered in swamp algae is, after all.

But that’s not the point! The point is: that swamp monster needs to go! Need I remind you of poor Gladys!? There she was, having a perfectly normal midnight picnic-for-one out there in the middle of the woods (like teen girls are wont to do). When all of a sudden, the swamp monster approaches her slowly (i.e. creepily), kneels down, and hands her a bushel of GARDENIA FLOWERS IN FULL BLOOM!

I don’t think I need to tell you that, if eaten, gardenias are HIGHLY POISONOUS! Men, that’s one count of attempted murder. I, for one, don’t want to wait around for another.

We’ve already tried appeasing the swamp monster through other means, but it refuses to accept the many peace offerings that we have placed along the shores of the swamp. No matter how many virgins we sacrifice, it never seems to be enough. For they are always found the next morning, rejected, and laid carefully in the town cemetery with a bushel of gardenias (poison) at their sides.

So clearly, we must kill this vile swamp monster before it swallows our town whole! Here is what I propose: Elias, you shall dress in costume as a female swamp monster. Ezekiel, you shall don a male version of the same costume, in case swamp monster is a female (or homosexual).

Then, you will gain the monster’s attention by posing in a sexually suggestive position on the banks of the swamp. Once the swamp monster gives chase, you will lure him into a long hallway with multiple doors, a la Scooby Doo. You will confuse and disorient the swamp monster by running in and out of various doors in a comical, entertaining fashion.

Amid the madcap hijinks, the confusion will inevitably result in a brief (and hilarious) reversal of roles, in which the swamp monster is being chased by the two of you. At this time, you will chase it into the room in which I am waiting.

We will then lock the swamp monster in, and I will proceed to challenge it to a winner-take-all double-dutch jump rope competition. If I win, he must agree to be killed, doused in swamp algae and served to the townsfolk as the main course of Sunday brunch.

If he beats me, then I will Mule Kick him into submission, take him hostage, and make him help me win the Double Dutch Tournament in two weeks time. After my team wins the tournament, he will then be killed, doused in swamp algae and served at Sunday brunch.

Are we all agreed? Alright, then LET’S DO THIS!


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My Pre-Sleep Ritual

1. Put on my pajamas
2. Brush my teeth
3. Wash my face
4. Change into dry, non-toothpaste encrusted pajamas
5. Turn out the lights in the house
6. Knock ceramic angel figurine off pedestal
7. Cry
8. Grab another angel figurine from the closet and place it on the pedestal
9. Go to bedroom
10. Say my prayers
11. Look under bed for pot of gold
12. Consider changing religions
13. Go to computer to research Ra the Sun God
14. Stumble across picture of Anubis, get scared
15. Cry
16. Change into clean pajama bottoms
17, Rehydrate
18, Get into bed
19. Look outside, realize it’s morning already
20. Get dressed
21. Go to work
22. Fall asleep during morning meeting


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Robot Sex Slaves and Other Thoughts About Robots

My aunt calls the little thingamabob that scuttles around and vacuums her floors a robot. But that’s not a robot. That’s Lupe.

I don’t think robots can have a soul. Because it they did, the good ones would go to heaven. And as most Christians will agree, that’s just not something Robo-Jesus would allow.

robotThe good thing about being enslaved by a race of sentient robots, at least, would be getting to make fun of their funny, monotone accents behind their backs.

I think a good feature to include in robots would be tear ducts. That way, when they cry, we’ll know once and for all that their internal coolant fans are leaking, and we can fix it.

Robots always have really cool, abbreviated names. For example, KITT is short for Knight Industries Two Thousand and WALL-E is short for Waste Allocation Load Lifter Earth-Class. If I had a robot, I’d name him STEVE, which would be short for – STEVEN.

If a robot was ever giving a public speech about robot rights and stuff, I think a good thing to yell out would be: “booooring.”

Sure, the primary function of robots should be to serve man. But can the secondary function be to serve tennis balls into oncoming traffic (for fun)?

Of all the songs in the world, I think the one most likely to get stuck in a robot’s head is “Theme from Car Alarm.”

Eventually, there will be a black market for robot sex slaves, and I foresee it working like this: I am the seller and you are the buyer. We meet in a back alley at midnight. You bring the money. I bring the robot. You check the robot for attractiveness and number of orifices. You give me the money. I take the money. Then, I ask the robot to kill you, you sicko.


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Welcome to My Secret Mountain Lair

Ah, well if it isn’t the second and third most maniacal evil geniuses on the planet! Massive Brain. Intellibot. I welcome you to my secret mountain lair!  Did you have any trouble finding the place? Please say YES! It is supposed to be a SECRET mountain lair, after all.

What’s that? Google Maps!? The address of my SECRET mountain lair is on Google Maps!? How could they have found Megalomaniac Avenue already!? It’s not even paved yet…and the entrance is obstructed by that giant hologram image of a rockslide!

secret mountain lairNo matter, I will deal with the simpletons at Google in due time. For now, let me show you around the place. Massive Brain, I think you’ll find it even more technologically advanced than your hidden castle in the sky. And Intellibot, well, I think it’s safe to say your “subterranean lair,” I mean MOTHER’S BASEMENT, just can’t compete with the sheer demented genius of my new dwelling!

Right in here is my workshop – the place where I map out all my evil plans and piece together my weapons of destruction. Everything an evil genius could possibly ever need is right here in this room – plutonium for creating nuclear weapons, full-body robot suits for heavy lifting, human torsos for target practice. Oh! And a ping-pong table over there in the corner. For relaxing.

I’m sure you can guess from the cries for help that my torture chamber is right through here. As you can see from all the boxes, I’m still in the process of unpacking. But don’t worry, the human slaves are just fine. I made sure to poke plenty of air holes in the cardboard. After, all, you know how much I HATE tracking down new human specimens. All that chloraform. And if they run, then you have to drag them back to the truck. No thanks!

Over here is the garage. I’ve divided the vehicles into groups based on type – helicopters and hovercrafts to your right, land tanks and invisi-cars to your right, and straight ahead, well, that’s the kayak.

I’m not much for sea travel – I can’t swim after all.

In here is the media room with big screen TV. Netflix just sent me Ghosts of Girlfriends Past. We’ll watch it later.

Here’s my guest room. Master Disaster is staying here at the moment. He and his wife have been going through a rough – oh, what the? DAMN IT MASTER DISASTER! I told you to put your dirty underwear in the clothes hamper three times already! My guests don’t want to see this!

Oh, don’t give me that! Do I need to kick you out!? Tricera-Bot has just been begging to move in – and he said he’d pay rent!

Sorry about that friends. Let’s move on. Over here is the vacuum chamber where I regenerate my youth each night.

And finally, the piece de resistance, in a room all its own – THE DEATH ORB!

OH GOD DAMN IT! The death orb’s been stolen! Master Disaster, did you leave the back door unlocked again!? You did, didn’t you? God damn it!! Do you know how many human souls it takes to build a freaking death orb!? I swear, every time I get close to world domination, you come along and screw it up somehow. I don’t even need a superhero arch nemesis. I HAVE YOU!

Alright guys, that’s it, tours over. I hope you liked the place, but now I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We’ll watch Ghosts of Girlfriends Past another time. I guess I’m going to be up all night luring humans into my ’88 Dodge Caravan – some way to spend a Friday evening. THANKS A LOT MASTER DISASTER!


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