What did the Elevator say to the Stairs?
So I was just peeing, you know, into a toilet, when I started to think about the relationship some stairs and elevators have. I mean they spend most of their lives right next to one another and we all know everything talks when humans are not around to listen with their ears so they have to be talking about something. But what…
Elevator: These two kids last night, kind of drunk, got inside me last night, slammed on the emergency stop, and just started doing it inside of me. It was like people were fornicating in my brain!
Stairs: There’s no way that happened. I saw those two kids stumble in and I bet they just threw up inside of you. How weird is it to have your insides covered with someone else’s insides?
E: Dude that’s so sick. They were totally making out and stuff I swear! She was like “Oh Kevin.” and I guess Kevin was all like slurring but he said “Ya Baby” and it was so on.
S: Why do you insist on lying to me? Isn’t it bad enough your so much more advanced than I and everyone loves your convenience. I’m looked as as a punishment that people would only use me if I was one of two options and the other option was a fiery death.
E: Ah don’t say that. Some people use you. There’s like that obese man who walks up a couple of stairs, then back down to use me. At least he’s trying to make you happy. You’re probably the only set of stairs that can support him!
S: Eh…I’m not sure…
E: Then there was that time I was out on vacation and everyone used you instead! You were the talk of the town. When I came back I was worried everyone was going to be so fit they would never need me again.
S: Ya that was a great week. I even got mopped that week! Man you should go on vacation more often.
E: I would love to but the new union I’m in only gives me a vacation every three years, or if I severely hurt myself. You know, pull a cable, blow a fuse.
S: That would be dreadful…
E: Then I’d have to get all sorts of screwdrivers put into me, and my cables would be changed. Talk about a tricky operation. I have two uncles who died in the middle of cable changes. It’s too risky.
S: Well I’m going to pray extra hard for you tonight. Oh snap, here comes some chicks in high heels. Shut. Up.
Those chicks in high heels always ruin everything.
Steps For All Seasons
What is it about steps? They are always just being there doing nothing. If you step on the right way they occasionally let out a little squeak moan (squoan?). Of pleasure or of pain? I can’t imagine I would go into the business of being a step unless I did enjoy it, but I can never really imagine being stepped upon day in and day out. Maybe being a carpeted step would not be too bad but does a step begin as a carpeted step or does it earn the right to be carpeted much like an angel must earn its wings? How has no one done a study of steps and their culture.
Do the hardest working steps go onto become escalators? They must because it has to be some hard work circling yourself over and over again. Safety alone I don’t think I would trust an amateur escalator in a mall; they need to work themselves up from working from a smaller scale to a larger one.
Do retired steps go onto to thrive in a nursing home where the impact is not quite as swift and there is less step action. Do steps hate elevators? Maybe not because if there is a fire the steps get the last laugh. “Look who is being used now, jerk.” I can imagine one set of steps saying to a nearby elevator.
Joke Time with P&D
Pat: What is the worst kind of plant?
Dan: Worchester sauce plant? I got one for ya. What’s the most foreign plant?
Pat: Mine is an ambush. I don’t know yours. What is the most secretive plant?
Dan: A Venus flytrap! And I don’t really think a bush qualifies as a plant. A secretBUSH?
Pat: How could a bush be anything other than a plant? Are you high? The most secretive plant is a mysTREE
Dan: Do people hate me like I hate you now after that joke?
Pat: Yes, a thousand times yes.
Dan: God. What have we become? Soulless shucks of our former selves?
Pat: That is correct. Nail on the old head.
Dan: Oh well. What’s the best kind of fun?
Pat: FUNdamentals?
Dan: No you tardmuffin. A reFUND. Gosh
Pat: No, no that’s the most repetitive kind of fun.
Dan: We don’t deserve to live.
Search Terms
I think this is going to become a recurring issue here at SBT.
Some of the things that people type into search engines and end up at our site is mind blowing. I was looking at our blog stats today and I just had to share a few of my recent favorites with you, our loyal readers. Think I’ll do a little David Letterman type countdown.
At number 3: “Shoeswinger” - This was one of the hobo’s names in Dan’s Hobo Digest Post, why anyone would search for Hobo Shoeswinger specifically is beyond me.
Number 2: “How to dress like a hobo that used to ride the rails” - SBT is apparently ground zero for all the latest info on hobos and hobo imitation.
And at number 1 (drum roll): “Gag reflex and repressed memories” - seriously? you sure bout that?
Hick 2.73782 Beta
I hate to break the main theme of this site (two desperate unemployed college graduates probing the North East United States for anything close to a career) but I got a job. Three actually, two of which are (hopefully) temporary and the other will bloom into a colorful thrilling career where I write about how awesome video games are and how Nintendo has betrayed me yet again.
My one job is a pizza delivery boy, which is pretty self-explanatory. The other is working in a warehouse. It’s a warehouse just like the one in the end of the Indiana Jones and the Ark of the Covenant. You know the scene where the dude is (knowingly?) putting the Ark into storage for, hopefully, ever. Except in my warehouse the boxes are labeled “Large Air Conditioners” as opposed to “Don’t open ever. May cause extreme body meltage and mass genocide.”
Growing up I have always viewed warehouses as a place where evil things hang out. Be it cults, werewolves (get it?), Mafioso, Dracula, Hob Goblins, scary mutated men who are melded to forklifts, or chainsaw maniacs. Thankfully all of my fears have been squelched since and working in a warehouse has been no problem. While I have not encountered any of the previous mentions fears I have found a new, scarier threat to society: The Hick 2.3782 Beta.
I work with a kid named Bobby. He is a self-proclaimed hick. I must clarify though that even if he did not proclaim himself one it would be blatantly obvious from his unkempt appearance, the seemingly permanent food smeared on the side of his face, John Deere hat, and his constant carrying on about guns and strippers. We work in the warehouse together, he gets shipments ready to ship while I organize the mess that started as a small box out of place until, like a virus, the mess spread until every god damn box was out of its designated spot. Often times him and I will cross paths or he’ll request my help to load something dumb onto an even more dumb forklift. These team up sessions usually end with him going on and on about one of the following popular hick topics:
1) Bragging of Material Items: I have noticed that hicks love to brag on and on about the amount of possessions they have no matter how obvious the person they are talking to does not care. He has told me about all of the trucks he owns, the guns he has bought, the ATVs he has driven, his brother’s weekly income, the amount of cars all of his other construction friends own, the bar his uncle owns, the money he has accumulated and, unbeknownst to him, has pissed away on shitty items. Not to mention how territorial these people are over their items. He tried to tell me that he was going to beat up his ex girlfriend’s dad because he called him a name. For God’s sake.
2) Hardships – They also have a tendency to talk about their hard times. This hick in particular has told me how he has been shunned by the Martial Arts world (more on that later), how he fell from a tractor and broke his femur (it was actually his arm), knee surgeries, and various girl problems. For instance he told me how much it sucked that his girlfriend came over, kissed him and when he went to take off her pants she declared she was menstruating and he was extremely pissed off. “While would she do that to me?” Ya that is real god damn tough for you. It’s all moot since I don’t care about any of this but these god damn people need a full time therapist or something to talk to about their “problems”. They must believe they suffer more than any POW or lost child of Sudan.
3) Outlandish Stories – We all know that 90% of tall tales came from hicks of the ancient times. It is no coincidence that the hicks of the modern era share the same affinity to telling outrageous stories. I don’t know how hicks do it but they remember every little detail to every little dumb story. They think they are so philosophical and eye opening that they will tell a story that goes on 30 minutes too long and feel like they did you a favor. This Bobby kid has wasted my time by telling me how he has had sex in a bakery, had sex with a stripper, dated a few strippers, stuffs his own deer heads, made a bunch of money doing something crazy but it turned out it wasn’t for him. Those stories are nothing to him telling me that he was semi-pro (one fight away from being pro) in the world of Martial Arts fighting. He told me that he went undefeated and trained all the time for these fights. Girlfriends would dump him because he would beat an opponent beyond recognition, or he was too dedicated to his sport. Allegedly, he can no longer compete in real competition because someone gave him a cheap shot and Bobby was declared a victor. Instead of ending the fight he decided to fight on and got his revenge by breaking the opponents leg. He then immediately turned tail, knowing he was disqualified, and walked out of the stadium as if he had just proven some sort of point. The point being? Probably something like “I’m a hick and I do whatever I want because I love the freedom America grants me even though I’d never actually fight for my country unless by ‘fight’ you mean ‘shoot animals in the wild and act dumb’.”
But this hick lives two miles away from Pittsburgh. You know, the city with culture, tall buildings, and society. How can he possibly convince himself that he is a hick when he can literally see the city from his home? I suppose I must applaud him for being so narrow minded for this long while there is a bustling city literally a stone’s throw away. These modern day hicks use all sorts of technologies like Ipods and the Internet for their cause but still insist that they are pure hicks. They keep evolving in extremely mysterious ways. Ways I’m not sure anyone on the outside looking in will never comprehend.
On a joke note - Where do werewolves hang out?
Let’s Make a Plan!
The following is a look into the decision making process we have to go through to solve nearly anything.
Dan: There is a dilemna. Do we see Dark Knight, at the outstanding Imax where tickets are 50% more even though we’ve both seen it twice already? Or go and see Pineapple Express, the new Seth Rogen movie that looks good?
-Dan “Dilemned” T
Pat: This is indeed a dilemma. Seth Rogan is the new Mel Brooks, to say that his work is funny is like saying Hideo Kojima’s work has some depth to it. While I feel that seeing B-man on the I-max would most likely blow my mind, I have already seen it twice. Let’s hit up the pineapple express. - Pat “Prob Solver” V
Dan: Wow. I am incredibly shocked we came to a conclusion that quickly. I don’t know what to do the rest of the day. I was hoping we would drag this out and then I’d post it on SBT.
-Dan “Problem Wanter” T
Pat: Ha. Whoops
Dan: Ya it would be a joke to you. I barely sleep at night, tossing and turning in a bed full of cold sweat, with the anxiety that comes with producing content for a smash hit website. Maybe I’ll just post a chat log about how Japanese have 44 words for ‘Monkey’.
Pat: Akuna matata
Dan: This is the most anti-climatic moment of my life. Are we still going to go to the Pittsburgh Mills? Or What?
Pat: They have a theatre there? I’d be down. Grab some Sonic.
Dan: The Mills is the only place with an Imax. I told you this last night. I’m cool with the Sonic though. Maybe if you show them your tat you’ll get a free patty. Sans bun.
Pat: Pineapple Express on I-Max? I find that unnecessarily extreme. But I’m down.
Dan: No. There is only one Imax theatre and it’s showing Batman. I could tell you anything right now and you’d believe me wouldn’t you? Imax is actually Mills’s slang for an on stage Broadway esque production where a bunch of children (K-12) put on the film as a play. There are even introspective soliloquies to help flesh out the characters.
Pat: If seeing batman
Goto imax to see batman
if seeing pineapple express
Goto theatre that is showing it
I wasn’t good at C++ but you get the picture. If we have decided on pineapple express why are we going to the theatre that isn’t showing it. Do you have a deep emotional attachment to it and need to visit it frequently to say hello? Why don’t you just give the I-Max a call and chat with it for a few hours instead?
You know I love grade school renditions of major motion pictures. I heard little timmy paterson played a great joker. Guess it proved too much for him though. It’s always sad to see a young actor with so much potential cut down in his prime.
Commence Brain Melting
There was a weekend that took place not too long ago. It was epic. Words cannot really explain how many hookers followed us to our hotel room, or how much money was spent on strippers. Phrases could not arrive at a conclusion that would make it OK for someone to pass out at the top of the first inning of a Pirates baseball game or at a bar afterwards. Millions of adjectives and nouns working together, like the workers on the Tower of Babel, could not describe the sheer madness that took place in Pittsburgh.
So I give to you this picture. Most pictures are worth a thousand words and this one is no slouch. It spews out a thousand then, when you think you have found the meaning, it crams more words down your throat. Next thing you know you’re throwing up prepositions and articles into your toilet wondering why I did this to you. But the story it tells would make tree roots shrivel and roosters stop roosting or whatever they do.
At first glance it may look like an ad for the Gap and you would probably be right. There was a fires sale on khaki shorts and who doesn’t need an extra pair of those around the house? But underneath that layer of marketing you can see the hurt in our eyes; our souls. No one seems the slightest bit happy in this picture and for good reason. What is there to be happy about when you just shot gunned a beer and threw up in a garbage bag in the middle of a parking lot? Why smile only to be told that, “Hey, most Asians only live to be 24.” It was frivolous.
Our gazes are not centered on one thing but shooting off in every one direction. Perhaps that serves as a metaphor for the quest I drunkily went on (with the help of Rachel) to find our lost friend in the dark unfriendly corner of the North Side.
If only we could see the foreshadowing this picture foretold of a weekend full of antics of the darkest varieties. Well, we probably would not have changed a thing.
I will tell you this. After our friends left the area Pat and I were changed. I’m not sure if we felt like kings of the city or more like a pair of Jews who survived the holocaust. We wanted nothing more than to look at a blank wall and reflect on the weekend that could only occur when every galaxy, asteroid, star and planet lines up perfectly in front of one another sending all of their cosmic juices right into the heart of Pittsburgh. Our minds tried hard to wrap themselves around this phenomenon like a stripper would wrap her self around a pole, but it was fruitless. Let’s hope it does not happen again for some time.