Real-Life Encounter in Boston T Elevator

[I run into the elevator just as it's closing. Middle-Aged Lady (pictured above) is only other person in elevator, facing away from me]

[Middle-Aged Lady lets out a long, relaxed fart. One that seems like it's been saved up all day]

[Middle-Aged Lady turns around to notice that I'm there]

Middle-Aged Lady: Jesus Christ! You snuck in here silently! You're supposed to make a noise, make other people aware of your presence.

Me (suppressing laughter): Oh, sorry

Middle-Aged Lady: You're the one who should be embarrassed, not me. You snuck up on me - that's just not right.

(beat)

Middle-Aged Lady: I'm not embarrassed. You're sneaky.

[Elevator doors open. Middle-Aged Lady runs out into the Boston night]

Scene from John Kerry's Office

[John Kerry, Teresa and Stephen, an aide, are in Kerry's office]
Stephen: This is horrible Senator Kerry, they're hanging an effigy of you in Pakistan. I'm so sorry.

John Kerry: I know, Stephen. Frightening what some people will stoop to. Now I need a moment to console Teresa.
[Exit Stephen]

John Kerry: Can you believe it? An effigy? Of ME? And my name is BEFORE Obama's!

Teresa: Johnny I've got 3 words

John Kerry: John. Kerry. 2016.

Teresa: You got it
[Teresa and John Kerry start making out]

[Enter Stephen. John Kerry immediately makes it seem like he's just consoling Teresa]
Stephen: I'm sorry for barging in Senator Kerry, it's just I forgot my iPhone charger and I'm going on a long train ride.

John Kerry: No, no - it's fine, Stephen. There, there Teresa

[John pets Teresa's hair]

Preview of President Obama's Labor Day Speech

President Obama: My fellow Americans, on this day we give thanks to the hundreds of millions across this great land who summon the strength to get out of bed in the morning, show up to the office or jobsite and put in an honest, hard day's work to make this country run each and every day. These Americans are not out for riches, and they're certainly not out for fame - they just want to do the best job they can.

[President Obama turns toward the Post-Racial Guy from the Black Eyed Peas, sitting on dais]

And that's why today I am giving the Presidential Medal of Honor to the Post-Racial Guy from the Black Eyed Peas. Like so many decent, hard-working Americans, no one knows his name--

Post-Racial Guy from the Black Eyed Peas: Mr. President, my name is Taboo!

President Obama: No one knows what he does--

Post-Racial Guy from the Black Eyed Peas: Mr. President how do you not know that I rap, dance capoeira, and also play keyboards on some tracks?

President Obama: No one even knows what race he is - Samoan maybe?

Post-Racial Guy from the Black Eyed Peas: Jesus Christ President Obama I'm a mix of Mexican and Shoshone Indian!

President Obama: But we do know that he is a hard-working American who puts 110% into his work and that on this Labor Day we honor that dedication to his job!

[Rapturous applause from the crowd as President Obama puts the Presidential Medal of Honor around Post-Racial Guy from the Black Eyed Peas' neck]

President Obama (small talk w/ Post-Racial Guy over the deafening applause): So how's apl.de.ap doin'?

Post-Racial Guy from the Black Eyed Peas: You know his name but not mine?! He's the fourth wheel! I'm only the third wheel!

President Obama: Hey - but he's a brotha...
[President Obama flashes a 1000-Watt smile]

[Post-Racial Guy from the Black Eyed Peas sulks quietly]

Opthamology 101

Badass Opthamology Student: I'm gonna say "Which one do you like?"

Crusty Old Opthamology Professor: Listen kid, everyone says "Better 1 or Better 2?" That's how it is, that's how it'll always be.

Badass Opthamology Student: Well I ain't everyone.

Crusty Old Opthamology Professor: Jesus, every year there's one guy who thinks he's gonna reinvent the wheel. You think people come to Opthamologists to get their eyes examined? Any half-wit could do that. They come to be asked "Better 1 or Better 2?" It gives them order in their otherwise chaotic modern lives. It comforts them. It narrows this incomprehensible world down just two choices. This... or that? Not Half-Fat this and Part-Skim that and No-Soy No-Gluten the other thing.

[A single tear falls down Badass Opthamology Student's cheek]

Badass Opthamology Student: That's the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said to me.

Crusty Old Opthamology Professor: Alright, alright, let's turn off the waterworks. You still need a lot of practice to get your "I'm gonna shoot a puff of air in your eye, but don't move" up to snuff. Back to work!

AIM Chat Between Pluto and Neptune

PlutoNash: yooo what up Nep?

Neptune8: oh hey - nothin' much

PlutoNash: so i was just IM-flirting with Venus, and she said the Sun was having some sort of NBA playoffs watching party on Sunday?

Neptune8: yeah since the Suns didn't make it, he's kind of obsessed with the Heat so he's having some people over to his condo to watch the game and bbq on the terrace

PlutoNash: did he send u an invite email?

Neptune8: uh yeah

PlutoNash: hmm... didn't get it

Neptune8: you probably just didn't realize it was from him - he sent a PaperlessPost

PlutoNash: OK ill search my inbox for 'PaperlessPost' one sec

Neptune8: k

PlutoNash: nope - no results

Neptune8: try "It's Gettin' Hot in Herre" - that's the name of the party

PlutoNash: word ill try that

PlutoNash: nope - nothing. did that motherfucker not invite me?!??!

Neptune8: it would appear so. I guess it's kind of a "planets-only" type of vibe

PlutoNash: but i've been boys with u guys for years - i was one of the groomsmen at the Sun's wedding for godsakes! but now that I'm not a planet anymore i'm just another schlub?

Neptune8: look man i don't think this is a personal thing, it's just the Sun can't invite all the Dwarf Planets over, cause then the Asteroids will want to come too, and the Meteoroids, and it gets out of control. His condo's living room isn't even that big

PlutoNash: oh come on, he's got the couch that seats at least 3, maybe 4 if everyone's thin. and the loveseat that's another 3. then the La-Z-Boy and the 2 chairs in the corner. plus the folding chairs on the terrace!

Neptune8: he hates to use the folding chairs indoors - they scratch up the floor

PlutoNash: well then what if i just sit on the floor?

Neptune8: kind of blocks people's view

PlutoNash: ok ok i'll stand

Neptune8: then everyone feels like you're hovering

PlutoNash: how about i stand in the doorway of the Sun's bedroom and watch from there?

Neptune8: that's just weird

PlutoNash: so that's it. I've finally officially been excommunicated from the planet social scene. Saturn's birthday in January - which FUCKING SUCKED btw, terrible overpriced bar! - was my last hurrah

Neptune8: no dude, you know how the Sun is - he's all about his parties only having "bodacious bitches and ballin' bros" - he's always excluding people

PlutoNash: so i guess i'm not a ballin' bro, huh???

Neptune8: look, forget about it - Natasha and I are having a Little League World Series Luau in our backyard in August. u should come it's gonna be fun - some of the other planets r gonna be there, we got tiki torches...

PlutoNash: great, i can't go to the Sun's exclusive NBA Playoffs party at his luxury condo, but it's fine because i'm totes welcome at the Little League Luau in your weed-ridden backyard. woohoo!

Neptune8: jesus dude, i try to do you a solid and this is what i get in return?! the Sun is right - you are a bitter loser!

PlutoNash: did he fucking call me that????

Neptune8: in so many words

PlutoNash: whatever, u know what, it's fine. i'm sorry i insulted your luau. it sounds like it'll be a lot of fun. When is it?

Neptune8: August 18th. would be cool if u brought some pineapple juice as a mixer

PlutoNash: sure thing - are you gonna send out an official invitation via PaperlessPost?

Neptune8: u know it

PlutoNash: cool. alright man well i'll see u then. have fun at the Sun's party - put in a good word for me with Venus ;)

Neptune8: will do. peace

PlutoNash: l8r

Scene from a West Philadelphia Barbershop

Barber #1: Last time I was at the post office I picked me up some of them Forever Stamps

Barber #2: Ooooh yeah I got a whole envelope full of Forever Stamps. And not one of them regular envelopes you send a letter in and you gotta fold it up into thirds. A big ol' envelope like for taxes and shit

HipsterBro Customer: Actually, I read in Slate that Forever Stamps are a bad investment because inflation always rises faster than the price of stamps. So even though ordinary stamps get more expensive, they're relatively cheaper

Barber #1: What?! Do you have brain damage? What don't you understand about Forever? It's the same price, for-e-ver! That's a good mothafuckin' deal right there

Barber #2: That's right - what else stay the same price forever? You buy milk lately? That shit like four dollars a gallon!

HipsterBro Customer: Right but with inflation the stamps actually go down in p--

Barber #1: Son, ain't nothin' in this world last forever - not you, not your momma, not me, not the United States, not the Earth, not the Sun, hell maybe not even the mothafuckin' universe. But these stamps - they forever

HipsterBro: Yeah but this Slate piece said--

Barber #2: Why you in here anyway?

HipsterBro: Uh, I read about this barbershop in Philadelphia Weekly - it was a pick of the week

Barber #1: Well I ain't cuttin' yo hair. And he ain't cuttin' yo hair. So get the fuck outta here!

(HipsterBro leaves in a hurry)

Barber #2: Forever Stamps a bad investment? Some people, man

Barber #1: Next thing you know, someone gonna say I shouldn't have a thousand dollars worth of P.F. Chang's Gift Certificates in my drawer

Barber #2: Nah, no one dumb enough to fuck wit de ChangBucks. ChangBucks so solid - when China done investing in Treasury bonds they headin' straight for the ChangBucks.

Barber #1: Mm-hmm, mm-hmm

Tail End of a PIXAR Pitch Meeting

Marty Kornfeld: OK, OK but what about a picture where Scotty the Scotch tape dispenser is replaced by Duke the duct tape dispenser, who's tougher, meaner and stronger than Scotty. So Scotty has to team up with Witey the Wite-Out bottle and Randy the 3-Hole Paper Reinforcement to take back the office from Duke and--

PIXAR Executive: --3-Hole Paper reinforcement? What?

Marty Kornfeld: Those little circular stickers you put around one of the holes in a piece of binder paper that's ripped.

PIXAR Executive: Oh yeah. Look, Marty, Toy Story played on nostalgia for old toys, and Cars played on nostalgia for old cars, but that's because there really is nostalgia for those things. No one has nostalgia for office supplies that used to be more important in a pre-digital age.

Marty Kornfeld: Alright, alright, I'm hearin' you. (beat) That's why I came with another character - Hank the Hard-Line Phone. He's a badass who takes no prisoners -- "My only dead zone is anyone who fucks with me!"

(beat)

Marty Kornfeld: Could you validate my parking?

Scene from the First Day in Prison for a Neurotic Jew and his Bro Accomplice

[Neurotic Jew is sitting alone at a table in the prison cafeteria, sporting an orange jumpsuit and a freshly shaved head]

Neurotic Jew's Interior Monologue: This jumpsuit is too big on me, it makes me look even scrawnier than I already am. I specifically told the guy Small - I'm swimming in this Medium! This is the last thing I need - I'm fresh, weak, meat in this place already. How am I, and my asshole, gonna stay protected? Maybe I'll join a gang - the Aryan Brotherhood. I bet I could pass as a Christian - I mean they shaved off my Jew-fro and I have blue eyes! Passing? Dear God where am I, Vichy France? And I can forget about my literary ambitions. Back in the '60s it was cool to go to jail - "You've been in the slammer? Sweet man, write about that shit!" Now it's all "Where'd you get your MFA?" and "Who do you know at Random House?" It's a fucking travesty. Wait is that giant Mexican guy looking at me? Don't make eye contact, don't make eye contact... Oh God, I just made eye contact. FUUUUUUCK!!!!

[Bro sits down next to Neurotic Jew, tray full of food in hand]

BRO: Dude, you gotta try this creamed corn! No joke - BEST. Creamed corn. Ever.

Reality of Life Under Obama

Straight out of Curb Your Enthusiasm

So I'm sitting on the subway playing Angry Birds: Halloween Edition on my iPhone, when a Cute Black Child sits down next to me. He starts watching me play and then asks, "can I play?" and with every guilty white liberal bone in my body I proudly exclaim, "Sure!"

Now I'm holding the phone while the kid plays Angry Birds. I show him how to play, but he's not doing so well. Then I explain to him that you have to pull the bird to the left in order to make it go to the right, and he's starting to get the hang of it. He beats a level and I give him a high-five. I feel like fucking RFK and MLK rolled into one for all the good I've done for racial harmony in this country. The kid starts getting so good that my hand holding the phone is obstructing his shots. So he asks if he can hold the phone himself. "Of course," I reply as I hand him the phone. As he plays, his Mom, who has been standing there the whole time, chats with me about how he really loves games and I tell her that he is very precocious and talented. If my heart were any more warmed they'd have to send in the Fire Department.

But just then, Mom jolts to attention as she realizes it's their stop and the doors just opened. She thanks me and walks to the doors. "It's our stop, let's go!" she cries out to her son. But my Cute Black Child friend is in the middle of an Angry Birds level and is solely focused on beating it (we've all been there). So I politely say, "Sorry buddy, you've gotta go with your Mom now," and put out my hands for him to give me back the phone. But he's got laser-focus on the game, and ignores me.

By this time, the doors are only 10 seconds from closing. I've got to do something, or either a) the kid will take the phone with him in his hurry to get to Mom, or b) the doors will close and I'll have to get the kid back to Mom somehow, neither of which are very appealing options. "You've gotta go!" I repeat. No reaction. So I take the only action I think can solve this morass - I reach for the iPhone. As my hand touches the iPhone, I realize this kid is not letting go. He's 100% focused on playing Angry Birds. So I gently try to pull the phone away from him, figuring this might make him understand the situation. But he just pulls the phone back toward him and tries to keep playing. Now there are 5 seconds to go until the doors close, and I've got only one, horrible option left.

And that's how I ended up grappling over an iPhone with a Cute Black Child on the subway, with him screaming "NO! IT'S MY GAME!"as I pulled on the iPhone with all my might. Finally I wrested control of the phone and the kid ran out of the train just in the nick of time, leaving me to stew in the disgusted stares of the white liberals and old Hispanic ladies around me. Somehow I'd gone from RFK to KKK in the blink of an eye.