These three links describing a sequel to Patrick Swayze's "Roadhouse" are the funniest stuff I have read in a year.
"After a couple minutes of Guy Cooler and Captain Karl rappin' about last night's babes through the john door, we hear monster trucks outside. Guy Cooler dives out the window on top of one and starts punchin' the windshield in. Captain Karl grunts out a premie and comes outta the john with a chainsaw, but runs down the stairs instead of divin' out the window. . .'cause he's carryin' a chainsaw."
I could not praise this stuff any higher-- not even if my own son wrote it. (My hypothetical son, that is.) My favorite part is that this fantastically well-written material is not in Shouts and Murmurs or McSweeneys or The Onion. It's in the Flint, Michigan Craigslist. As Bart Simpson said, "That's called committing to the bit."
The brains behind this is the dude who writes the Karl Welzein Twitter feed. AKA "Dad Boner."
I'm not sure who he is, which is part of what I like about it.
Walt Whitman, early Brooklyn hipster
Here are two things I read within a day of each other at the end of July. I meant to post them back then, but life distracted me. I re-read the first one last night.
The first is from section 7 of “I Sing the Body Electric,” by Walt Whitman. This poem appears, (rather appropriately, as you will see), in his group of poems titled, “Children of Adam”:
A man’s body at auction,
(For before the war I often go to the slave-mart and watch the sale,)
I help the auctioneer, the sloven does not half know his business.
Gentlemen look on this wonder,
Whatever bids of the bidders they cannot be high enough for it,
For the globe lay preparing quintillions of years without one animal or plant,
For it the revolving cycles truly and steadily roll’d.
Dennis O'Toole is an all-set cobra jet creepin' through the nighttime. He lives in Chicago.
If you need to reach me, dial:
denotoole AT SYMBOL gmail DOT co LETTER M.