Tag: corona virus (Page 3 of 8)

“Good morning. Barbershop here! Are you looking for Tiki or Ronde?”

Your barbers are named Tiki and Ronde?

“It is one doozy of a co-in-kee-dink!”

I don’t have a preference. I need a haircut from whoever can take me first.

“That would be Shaky Pete!”

Except if it’s Shaky Pete.

“Oh, please let Shaky Pete cut your hair. His self-esteem is so poor, and partially responsible for his quivering. There is also extensive nerve damage from all the Dust-Off he likes to huff. Have you tried it?”

Tried what?

“Dust-Off. It makes the universe go WOBBLEWOBBLEWOBBLE. It is a drug you want to stay in the saddle for! Do not let the Dust-Off take control! It is an unworthy captain!”

Shaky Pete cannot administer my haircut.

“I will mark you down as ‘bigoted.’ I can fit you in with Tiki for noon.”

Great.

“We are taking so very many precautions due to the bonus maronus!”

Good. Such as?

“You will be deloused.”

Why?

“TikTok demands content!”

Absolutely not.

“Fine. We do offer Silkwood showers.”

I don’t want one of those, either.

“There will be no rioting up in here!”

Wasn’t planning on it.

“No one plans to riot, and then you are surrounded by piles and piles of dead Panera employees. It just happens!”

There will be no rioting.

“And you will not be talking about anyone mattering in here! The only thing that matters to us is hair! Also, this is Florida, so many of our patrons are racist as hell and would not take well to your sloganeering.”

No sloganeering.

“Due to the ronus, you will be required to supply your own magazines.”

Okay.

“Do not be bringing various pornographies up in here!”

I wasn’t.

“Not even to flip through casually! That so often leads to sinful manipulations!”

I promise I won’t bring pornographic magazines. I wouldn’t even know where to buy one anymore.

“Shaky Pete has boxes and boxes full!”

Don’t care.

“We will need you to wear a mask, facially.”

I can do that.

“We will also need you wear corduroy trousers.”

Why?

“Fetish purposes!”

No.

“Mr. on the Dead–”

How did you know my name?

“–how much hair are we talking about cutting? Are you a Khruschev or a Stalin?”

Closer to a Stalin, I guess.

“And how shaggy are you? Rate your shagginess! For example, if provided with a van and magical dog, could you solve mysteries?”

I am actually that shaggy, yes. I haven’t gotten a haircut since quarantine started.

“Would you like to donate your hair to Locks of Love? They create wigs for sick children.”

If it’s possible, sure.

“What about Locks of Loath? They make merkins for surly, underage hookers. Those children are feral!”

No, thank you.

“They are as sad as they are dangerous!”

Got it.

“Society has failed them in every way! And now they have knives!”

I don’t want anything to do with underage hookers.

“Oh, you should not turn your back on them. Really. Don’t ever turn your back on them. Best case scenario is that your wallet gets stolen. Best case!”

Can I just get a haircut, please?

“Not until noon! And your lack of corduroy may preclude the activity!”

I’ll take my chances. See you then.

Dear Citizen,

Soon, you will be permitted to leave your Personal Health Cubicle and venture out into the barren, poisoned world that is now reality. Congratulations! We advise you to leave your fear at home and enjoy everything America has to offer, which is much less than it did six months ago. It’s been rough for investors! You may notice some changes have taken place, and they’re nothing to be afraid of. All life is change. For example, your grandpa used to be alive, but then he died of the ronus. Change!

Some tips for our brave new world:

LISTEN TO THE GOVERNOR If there’s one thing elected officials know, it’s epidemiology. Trust your leaders.

UNDER MY UMBRELLA ELLA ELLA An umbrella is an excellent tool in these trying times that are also so uncertain. Opened, it can serve as a marker of your Personal Health Radius. Someone gets too close? Poke ’em in the eye. You could also lean against it rakishly, or jab it into subordinates’ chests if they get mouthy. Shit, you could even trick it out like the Penguin. You can do a lot with an umbrella.

BIG QUESTIONS: ANSWERED Where did Captain Caveman’s rank come from? You’re gonna find out once the curve flattens, I promise.

CHAINS EXCITE ME All businesses smaller than, say, Bonefish Grille no longer exist. Mom-and-pops, indie record stores, vintage places, shitty pizza joints, antique malls that you meant to stop going to because of all the racist shit they sell but kept going to, that ice cream place your parents took you to and you took your kids to, and all the vape shops. They’re all gone now. Hope you took pictures. (WARNING: Any non-Barnes & Noble bookstore that survived the Plague is magickal in nature, and its owner should not be trusted.)

MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME Due to the coronavirus, the NCAA has vacated the University of Kentucky men’s basketball team’s 2002 season. No one knows why, they will not explain themselves, and the decision is binding.

THE IRON MAN IN THE MASK Starting June 1st, the definition of “mask” will expand to cover holding your hand over your mouth. Being careful to breathe through your nose will also do, as will not feeling sick

TESTING We’re not doing that anymore. You like tests? What are you, a teacher’s pet or something? Look at Einstein here, begging for more tests!

CHINA WILL PAY No they won’t, Johnny Earl. Not to you, anyway. You couldn’t find China on a map of China, you dipshitted monkey. And don’t think I don’t know about those plane tickets. The fuck you gonna do in Goungzhou, Johnny Earl? You only booked the flight there cuz it was the cheapest. I know how your diseased little mind works. AND you bought tickets for those goddamned pervert Gobbler Twins? They’re just gonna jerk each other off the entire plane ride, Johnny Earl! I don’t think the Chinese allow that sort of thing! They real family-oriented!

FUN FACT The Gobbler Twins’ first names are Memphis and Fulgang.

Here’s the part where we irredeemably lose the plot.

Was there ever one in the first place?

Touché.

Tushee?

OPERATION WASP SPEED Enormous wasps’ nests will be installed at the CDC and hooked up to timers. If the scientists don’t invent a vaccine by November 1st, the wasps are released.

OPERATION WAMP SPEED Same basic concept as Operation Wasp Speed, but with wampas.

OPERATION WAP SPEED This one’s racist, and I apologize to any and all Italian-American Enthusiasts, even the greasy ones.

OPERATION WHOOMP SPEED “Hey, where’s the corona vaccine?” “WHOOMP! There it is.”

OPERATION WHALE SPEED How fast a whale goes depends on its species, I suppose. Killer whales? Speedy! Ambling Whales? Well, they didn’t get the name ironically.

OPERATION WATUSI SPEED Vaccine sock hop! Vaccine sock hop!

What the fuck does “Vaccine sock hop” mean?

The scientists are, like, in their socks and doing early-60’s dances. They have their PPE and their pipettes and they’re writing up grants, the whole deal, but they’re shagging and frugging and swimming and, like the name suggests, doing the watusi. Allfather Trump thinks it will improve morale.

Why would he believe that?

He’s a goddamned idiot.

Take a nap.

PRO: I stink, and bathing would remedy that.
CON: My stink is my friend. Why would I want to kill my friend?

PRO: The people at the supermarket would not have to smell my nastiness.
CON: Fuck ’em. Fuck ’em dry and haltingly.

PRO: I would need to wash a towel afterwards, and that would be something to do, which would be nice.
CON: Water might make me feel something, which would suck. I had an emotion yesterday, and it was awful. Not doing that again for a while.

PRO: stitute.
CON: stitute.

PRO: by, PJ.
CON: voy, we got a big ol’

Scale of 1-10, how nuts are you?

Cashews.

Buy some cashews at the supermarket.

Good idea.

And shower. I can smell you, and I’m discorporeal.

Interesting.

• Have you been accused repeatedly of being back on your bullshit?
• Do you no longer miss your bullshit, being as that you are back on it?
• If I asked you right now, “Where is your bullshit? would you reply, “Under me. I’m back on it.”

This is gonna stop. What’s wrong with you?

Well–and I don’t know if I’ve made you aware of this–I am losing my mind.

We have all been made aware.

BATTLING THE DARKNESS, MUCHACHO.

Stop saying “muchacho.”

And I made a decision about my encroaching mental instability. I have decided to–

Please don’t say “Turn into the skid.”

–turn into the skid.

Goddammit.

I’m embracing the breakdown. I’m gonna take my dick out in the food court.

The food court’s closed. We went over this in the previous post.

The food court is metaphorical.

Ah.

But, since it’s Florida, the food court is also open.

Huh.

8:00 – 10:00 AM

• Argue with my blankets about whether or not I’m awake.
• Lose argument.

10:00 AM – 1:00 PM

• Boof some coffee.
• Rip some tubes.
• Crank one or two out.
• Yell at Twitter.
• Try not to throw on Tom Waits, cuz one day soon I’m gonna start the day with Tom Waits, and when you start the day with Tom Waits, it’s all fucking over.

1:00 – 2:00 PM

• Pacin’ time!

2:00 – 5:00 PM

• So sleepy,

5:00 – 8:00 PM

• I wait for the night.
• Crouched in a corner like a ninja, I wait for the night.
• IS THAT IT?
• No, just some cloud cover.
• Just settle down, TotD.
• The night will arrive.
• And when it does, you will boof it.
• That’s right, dipshits.
• I boof the night.
• Sometimes I get on my hands and knees and reach on back, and other times I go baby-style with my chubby legs in the air.
• But I’m a rockyrolling man, and I boof the night every night.

Do I have to put a stop to this?

Did it get weird?

And unpleasant. It wasn’t weird in a nice way. Y’know how you’ll stumble on an art installation in the middle of nowhere and be all like, “Huh, that’s strange. But I enjoy it!” Well, this wasn’t that. 

I miss museums.

You never went to museums.

I could have!

Sure, sport.

8:00 – Midnight

• Maybe write?
• Maybe movies?
• Maybe crank another one out?
• Maybe combine all three and write about Crank starring Jason Statham, while interfering with myself.
• Who knows the future?

Midnight – 3:00 AM

• Switch to my racist Twitter handle–@notafanofethnics–and tweet out some truly heinous shit.
• Add some yeast to my starter batch of PCP.
• Get the PCP all over my hands.
• Freak out superhard.
• Hey, I got neighbors!
• BOOF MY NEIGHBORS..

You’re done. Stop this. You cannot be trusted with language.

I’ve weaponized the alphabet.

You’re a creature. You’re just a creature.