We speak to the Essence of Bad Taste, whose whole existence is to appear in the presence of distasteful images and conversations, among other unsavory events. Piglet gripes about Bad Taste’s constant presence around his motorcycle gang. Gimnael, Grimace’s brother and leader of the motorcycle gang, also joins.

Continuing from the previous segment, Bad Taste, Piglet and Gimnael wax philosophical on the taste and design of Graceland, Elvis’s home in Memphis. This prompts a call from the beyond.

Also, Tiger Woods is turning people into dolphins….

Don’t have flash? Click here for the clip!

From the forthcoming full episode, “Combined Hallucinations” ( 29:40 – 40:00 )

Don’t have flash? Click here for the clip!

2) I need to feel bad for myself. That’s what I’m going as for Saint Patrick’s Day. Me Feeling Bad For Myself. Introducing me to men with women’s names makes me feel bad for THEM. Get creative!  Like,  remind me I can only half-define “detente.”

3) When I was five, and people referred to my bowels, I began to think my intestines looked like the basement of the building I lived in. I pictured little work men in there maintaining my body like I was a giant robot…
…sometimes, when you’re alone, do you ever get womb envy?

4) Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Hello Starving Yenta Avenue.

5) The womb is metaphysical. The uterus is very physical. (See Eastern European scumbag boasting “I like to get lots of uterus.”)  They refer to the same thing but they are not the same thing. It’s like post-coital depression: you either get it or you  don’t.

6) “me and mussolini”

me and mussolini

sitting in a tree

talking detente and shit

won’t you be the tea cup on my coffee table

I want to see what it’s like

with a black girl

me and mussolini

Astrally projecting to Jupiter (‘s energy fields)

Wake up and smell the poor

I’m better than Chaucer

7) Construction man, do you DEstuct a woman’s self esteem when she walks by?

(five minutes of lesbians snoring and bongos)

Please make sure you cat call to everyone. Don’t haaaaate.

Elvis) is the Artist formerly mistaken as king. Chuck Berry is rolling in his bath of mint julups. Don’t haaaaate. I have the Elephant Man’s spirit in my cane.

9) Eggplant martinis did nothing for Val Kilmer’s hospitality. His house is walking on stilts, I am walking on sunshine, and the AIDS walk tomorrow is jokeularistically untouchable.

10) Time-released orgasms

11) Thrilled to Be Here: I am the living embodiment of Joy.

Thrilled to be Herd:  Shepherds peaked 1000 years ago.

Thrilled to be in Her: This joke would be obvious, IF you don’t know someone who knows someone in a fledgling band named “Her,” (like I actually do, though I understand no one reads these to learn anything new) who will go on to sell an album for every keystroke I struck while writing Stun Lists…. including deletes!

…One day, someone will indeed profit from the things I DIDN’T write. I am the Miles Davis of lying.

12) Besame mucho= kiss me a lot.

Butterfly kiss my ass. That means open and shut your eyes, close to my backside, so the eyelashes touch my ass.  In explaining the joke, I have failed to meet its expectation…

“Brevity is the soul of wit”  -Mom

“Butterfly kiss my clitoris on the way out.”- Shakespeare

Finding new ways to become invisible at Halloween “functions,”

Liquid Nitrogen Pellets “david” O’thoroughfare

2) Who am I? Why are we here? Who ordered the turkey club with no mayo and extra lettuce?

These things went through my mind when I interned at a prestigious New York delicatessen (Krebner Leibovitz & Iscariot). Then I got a real job as a “model model”…I’d teach models how to not be themselves (and thus model successfully). This is what the unborn Olsen triplet and I refer to as being “so close, yet so far”…

3) Being that the slash (/) is right next to the period (.) on the keyboard, I sometimes think I type an ellipses, also known as “dot dot dot” (…),
only to find I have done this: ///.  However, I hereby propose a new punctuation in English grammar that utilizes three slashes. It can be called the “elvis” and be used as a shortcut when anyone in a story leaves the scene, especially while using their hips in a creative way.
EXAMPLE:
“Oh, shit, Larry, you left the parrot’s cage open!”
///
“He was a great parrot…too bad he’s gone now.”
“Yeah…are you a boy or a girl?”

4) The trans fats in this donut are going straight to my hips, but this napkin is going str8 to my lips (it was, after all, a powdered donut)…
I have the metabolism of a classically-trained rhino.

5) Helmets, obviously, peaked in the ’80s. This had a lot to do with Nintendo, and nothing to do with junk bonds. Many Nintendo games involved a helmet that could turn you into different things, like an eagle, a lamp shade, or a guy who claims to know more about UV rays than he actually does. Regardless, priests wearing helmets for any reason remain irrationally humorous to me, as do winning lottery numbers hidden in coconuts.

6) What if ceilings had breasts?

7) I’ve Been Known to Eat Dinner at Midnight, while accurate, is a terrible name for my autobiography, but I’m not writing it. RuPaul is, so I have to just listen to the publisher. I’ve actually outsourced most aspects of being myself  by now so that I can, you know, do coke till 9am every day in L.A. If I’ve been having a lot of “deep” conversations with you recently, “I” apologize…”Guitar Me” is under repair so “Philosophy Me” had to pick up the slack. Obviously, all of these “Me’s” are really young Mongolian boys and their sheep-herding fathers. Including the present author. Please help us, the real author is a raving ///

(…sorry… I got distracted by an argument over whether goats have free will).

D)e Tour. Switch your gender.

9) Anger is a gift. Unfortunately, I got it from someone I had given it to last year, and thus was “re-gifted.” Do you know what contempt sounds like just by shaking the box?

10) Porn filmed in the center of tornadoes.

11) “I’ve come to realize certain things are not crutches, but more accurately can be described as having “joke tenure.” Gnomes, for example. The word “moccasins” turns my skeleton to weak glass during that brief sweet moment in which it is uttered, making me feel on the brink of collapse and destruction, at its mercy. Cows, chickens, walruses, and even lobsters have seen better days (ah, youth), but still I find inherently ridiculous. Goats will always be there (the marriage of the word itself with the thought of the beast it denotes a potent combination)…

…some men look to past lovers with this kind of adoration, melancholy, and awe…and I…I have but this…please tighten the noose even more…thank you” ///
-Alexander the Great’s last words

12) Actual letter from my internet service provider:
“Feel free to print my name. You peaked a year and a half ago.
Now these things are just uninspired, but, you know, you need content for your website. Focus on a career.”
-The Failure Police

My afternoons are a cross between pharmacy small talk and sadness,
Proton “The sauce is never done” Variables