I felt like I had hit full-stride when I wrote this story about a guy who wanted to by a mall with a bag full of gold. It encapsulates the elements I always strived for: absurdity, humor, and self-reference. This one makes me feel pretty good about what I accomplished in the Pork Pony days.(CL)
Pardon me fair Pork Pony patrons while I take a bite of this delicious crumpet. Ah. A doughy cloud of satisfying bliss it is!
You say Thomas' English Muffin? I say, "Nay!" English muffins are naught but a two-cent trollop at the regal ball that is the breakfast table. Thomas, the heretic! That foul man and his family should be publicly humiliated in the stocks for their sullying of my favorite traditional breakfast treat. Commercials gloating about the nooks and crannies. I ask thee, Thomas, hast thou touched tongue to crumpet?
But of course you have! You attempted to steal its very essence, that which breaths life into the crumpet. But hast thou succeeded? NAY!
You only have the crumpet's husk. Its soul still lives in every crumpet lover. You, of course, are no crumpet lover. You're just a poor old crumpet coveter.
Back off, man! Do not covet my favorite food of grain. Go back to your factories and filthy toaster ovens and eat of your own evil wheat.
Oh yes dear reader, as I partake of my crumpet, I hum my own tune: The March of Gimble. It shall soon be made available to your ears. The recording engineers continually complain of the problems they've been having putting the song together. I'm starting to further suspect them of shenanigans.
Alas, I'll master it myself if I must. The legacy of Gimble shall carry on!
Much like the character in this story, I obsess over contact with Paul. It's like Craig read my mind... or maybe he called my answering machine. Read this and check out Craig's web comic, Dada. (CL)
Ba baaa, ba ba ba Star Wars ba ba ba Star Wars ba ba ba baaaa. As a 25 year old male, I'm required to give any Star Wars movie a Club 11 rating (yes, even Episode I). No matter how bad it is, I will love it. Fortunately, this film is actually worth seeing even for a casual Star Wars fan.
Episode II does have many of the same flaws as the other four movies. Mainly, the dialogue is awful. Also, Lucas isn't helping his virgin following with the ladies. Even fans who haven't had a date since Episode I will roll their eyes at how awkward this romance becomes.
Even with it's obvious problems, Episode II is still a kick ass flick. First of all, Yoda is an intergalactic pimp! There's no longer a question as to why he runs the show. Also, the art direction and set designs are some of the best that I have ever seen. Most importantly, however, Episode II isn't afraid of it's dark side (pardon the pun). The story is complex, and many of the characters show depth that is often missing from Star Wars films. If you can get through the nerdy dialogue, you will begin to see how well crafted the entire Star Wars saga really is.
After Episode I, I my expectations for the new trilogy plummeted. After Episode II, however, I now believe that the final Star Wars film, Episode III, may also become its best. On a scale of 1 to Club 11, Star Wars Episode II gets a mandatory Club 11.
Oh how I press upon my bosom these times! Spirits are soaring around the Pork Pony offices. Why, you ask? Dear reader, you do ask silly questions sometimes.
It is because my song, The March of Gimble has been passed around the office and all agree: it's tops. Its magnificent chorus, "GIMBLE!" is being shouted in the hallways. Everyone is rather chuffed and cheery and I thank myself for this optimistic atmosphere.
I am a bit wary, however. It seems to me that the mixers and engineers have had the master tapes in their grubby paws a bit too long. But what could they do with my perfect words and melody? A song such as this purposely marred would certainly send all sonic vandals to Hades to live amongst endless Falco, M & N, and Lump Biscuit hits. What truly respectable audiologist would want such a fate?
Folks, if you haven't caught a ride on the wave of Gimble, do so now because it's cresting and may soon be too high to catch.
Where are you now David Kendall?
Yes, another story by me, but originally credited to Eli Lindy. I didn't remember this as one of my favorites, but upon rereading it, it's not so bad. It's a bit improbable, an element that seems to be lacking in a lot of fiction (mostly because so many people lack imagination). (CL)
Boy, that rain sure was cold. On a scale of 1 to Club 11, Spider-man gets an 8.
Ha-Ha! Round one goes to Gimble!
Ah yes, dear reader, victory is sweet and victory is Stuart's. What, you ask, have I won? I've driven one of the wretched Pork Pony writers out of the office and out of town. David Kendall has fallen. Who's next?
That's right, I've pushed out the one who slandered me, the one who sullied the name of Stuart Gimble in such a heinous and cowardly fashion. Did you think you would last, Mr. Kendall? Did you think you were any match for my cunning and Stuance?
I know you're curious, reader. I know your anticipation is high in the stratosphere. You're thinking, "What did Stu do to that sap Kendall?" I'll tell you. First, I poured every last ounce of alcohol down the drain. I stacked the empty bottles in front of his office door and attached a sign that said, "Thirsty?" Next, I obtained copies of all his manuscripts and transformed each of his stories with the powers of Stuance. I dare say he cried when he saw the massive improvements. I then posted some of my favorite Stuancical changes on the company bulletin board for all to see. All saw. All stood in awe. All knew the shame I drenched Mr. Kendall with. But the final, deciding blow was yet to come.
It was song that brought my disgrace (albeit temporary) and I decided that I would reciprocate. I wrote and recorded a little number and delivered it to David Kendall Jr.'s office. The next day he was gone.
You want to hear the song, do you? You'll have to wait, for the kind folks who recorded that awful garbage theme song are mixing and mastering my meister werk as you read this.
Mr. Kendall is currently in the midst of a cross-country trek. He's moving from Los Angeles to Pennsylvania, the home state and birth place of a majority of the Pork Pony staff. You'll still hear from the bastard, but not before his words are touched by a little thing called Stuance.
Who wants it next?
The word pants holds up as one of the most entertaining and fun pieces of verbage in all of English. Joe Blevins capitalizes on the power of pants in this very story. Back in the Pork Pony days, Joe came to us via Craig J. Clark, a PP regular and author of the web comic Dada. I lost contact with Mr. Blevins, but would love to see more of his stories here. (CL)UPDATE 5-4-05: Joe's now in touch with me again and he's going to post new material on Unloosen. Everyone, down a glass of Ovaltine to celebrate. (CL)
This is the last installment of William that appeared in the Pony. Kendall's an elusive rascal, so I'm not sure if we'll ever see the final chapters of the story. Hopefully, they'll materialize here someday. In the meantime, enjoy part 5, featuring non-William's showdown with his boss. (CL)
Shall I even attempt to tame my vitriol? I've been duped again by the wretches who surround me and I say, I'm none the better for it.
Last week, as you may recall, I was in one of my better recent moods. Pork Pony announced to me that they had recorded a theme song based on some of my writing. This excited me for I figured that the foolish naïfs I'd been working for had finally acquired some taste.
Bunkum.
The horrid lot of them put David Kendall up to "singing" this song. First off, the bastard's voice sounds like Mickey Rooney after an opium binge. I do not lie, listen for yourself. Secondly, he was obviously drunk. A few days ago I found a bizarre plastic whiskey jug outside Mr. Kendall's office. It was empty, of course. When I presented it to the man himself, he explained that it was a special "grip it and sip it" bottle. Slightly telling? Yes. Lastly, the dunderhead openly slanders me in this song. To this, I do not know how to reply.
After flying high on the hopes that I'd finally broken through to this herd of below average, sheep-minded simpletons, the delivery of this song nearly brought death's rusty scythe to my throat. Hearing such awful things said about oneself can be rather damaging. I was crushed and appalled by the slander and depression fell upon me like a mid-monsoon mudslide. Alas, dear reader, there is always light at the end of the tunnel for Stuart Gimble.
Today my beacon beam, my guiding glow is the fire of war. Not war in the physical sense; war on the psychological plane. I will not rest until I have personally sucked the creative soul from every Pork Pony writer. Sleep will not be my companion until these fools see the world my way. They will be mere shadows of Stuart Gimble, dust in the shape of this great writer.
Victory will be mine.
dear intelli head,
i have this problem, you see i go to college and live in a dorm room, which is big enough to sleep in (that is, if you sleep standing), and i live with another individual, strange kid.... i have never seen him eat, ever, all he does is sit at his computer, and doesnt even look up anything worth while, like porn, i have yet to see him own a tooth brush, and despite the fact that he showers every night at 3 am, when everyone is sleeping, he has a cheap motel room soap smell, which obvioulsy permiates the entire room, oh yea, and the biggest thing of all, is he doesnt talk, im pretty sure he has the capability to talk, he just never does, i have never heard his voice, when i talk to him, i just get prehistoric grunts... so my question is, do you think he is going to kill me in my sleep? i have been trying to sleep with one eye open, but it just doesnt seem to work, please help, im in fear of my life.
dave, shamokin, pa
Dear Dave,
Consider yourself lucky. You are my first patron in a month's time and you'll therefore get some of the freshest, most stable Intelli I've administered in quite some time.
You should not fear for your life, Dave. But I do feel, after scanning your letter with extra Intelli, that there may be other things you'll want to keep an eye on. This roommate of yours has habits that my Intelli interprets two ways:
1. Your roommate is secretly an astronaut. If this is the case, then you'll want to go to parties with your roommate (everyone knows astronauts are the life of any party). If you discover that your roommate is indeed an astronaut, I suggest you protect your collection of dickies because astronauts tend to wear dickies under their space suits
2. Your roommate is your shadow without teeth. If this is the case, drink some Clamato and eat raw spinach. If you do this, everything will be OK. If you fail to follow my instructions, I suggest you lock your underwear drawer because your shadow without teeth tends to sew closed the crotch hole of both boxers and briefs.
Hope this helps. It's great to be back.
