The Book of Despair

  1. In the beginning there was the Uncaring Universe. And the Uncaring Universe did not give a shit about you or your problems
  2. And, behold, the Uncaring Universe did look upon the vastness of space and say “that’s a lot of room. I should put some shit there”. And the Uncaring Universe did shit upon the space.
  3. And when the Uncaring Universe had shat upon space, it gazed upon its shit and it did say “Meh. Good enough”
  4. The Uncaring Universe did gaze upon its shit and it saw that one of the pieces was a little less shitty than the rest.  And it said “I should do something about that.  I will create Man and place him upon the less shitty world that he may cause the world to be more shitty.
  5. And the Uncaring Universe did place man upon the face of the Earth that he may go forward, multiply, and cause The Earth to be shitty.
  6. And shit happened
  7. And one day Ian the Campbell was born.  And behold, that was bullshit, because that was not his real name
  8. And Ian, whose name was bullshit, did grow into a man
  9. And Ian, whose name was bullshit, did wax wise in the sophistry of men.
  10. And behold, Ian, whose name was bullshit, did inflict his sophistry upon willing readers
  11. And thus he spake unto his willing readers
  12. “Willing Readers, this I desirest thou to know:
  13. People Suck
  14. When someone you’re not related to welcomes you to “The Family”, turn and run like a son of a bitch
  15. Whenever a manager uses the word “proactive” in a sentence, you know something is about to suck
  16. If wishes were fishes we’d have some to fry
    1. (Corollary)  Actually, If wishes were fishes, they’d probably all get that disease where the fish literally puke their guts out and die and float to the top and all the other fish would devour the dead fish–or wish–in an orgy of cannibalism.
  17. If someone preemptively assures you that something isn’t going to happen, you can count on it happening
    1. (Corollary) If someone preemptively assures you of anything, then they are full of shit.
    2. (Corollary) If someone preemptively asserts that they are or are not something then they probably are, or are not exactly that thing
  18. The bigger the pickup, the bigger the asshole at the wheel
    1. (Corollary) The bigger the pickup, the smaller the penis on the asshole at the wheel
  19. Suicidal teenagers are fucking annoying
  20. Teenagers who think they are Vampires are fucking annoying
  21. Teenagers are fucking annoying
  22. They have mobile phone coverage on the Summit of Mt. Everest now.  Climbing Mt. Everest has jumped the shark.
    1. (Corollary) The phrase “jumped the shark” has, itself, jumped the shark
  23. The driver’s side windshield wiper will always wear out before the passenger-side
  24. The shitty-ness of the music is directly related to the loudness to which a teenager will feel compelled to turn up the volume
  25. The internet is full of shit
    1. (Corollary) People on the internet tend to be full of shit as well
    2. (Corollary) …and they don’t know when to sit down and shut up
  26. Everyone thinks that no-one loves music as much as they do
  27. When picking up a take-out order from a restaurant, the special order you have to double-check before leaving will be at the very bottom of the bag
  28. In the parking lot, that stupid person meandering aimlessly in front of you will be parked right next to you
    1. (Corollary) They will also drive the way they walk
  29. Whenever someone comes into your office, the most embarrassing song on your your iPod will come up in shuffle.  No matter how many un-embarrassing songs there are to choose from.
  30. Nothing profound has ever been said on Twitter
  31. Nothing profound will ever be said on Twitter
  32. The further away from New York you were on 9/11/2001, the more likely you are to wax rhapsodic with affected pathos about The World Trade center on any given 9/11.
  33. Everybody thinks that they are more like grumpy cat than anybody else
  34. Wikipedia:  A million nerds can’t be wrong
  35. Unless they’re talking about women, in which case a million nerds are always wrong
  36. All internet comments sections are headed to the same destination:  a huge dick-waving contest.
  37. You will hit every light green when you just need 10 more seconds to finish surreptitiously sending that text message from your car.
  38. Everybody thinks the drivers in their town are worse than everybody else’s town.  The truth is everybody is a bad driver everywhere.
  39. Jaywalkers will always run across the two lanes you’re not in, then walk across the lane you are in
  40. Any person who declares that they were educated at “the school of hard knocks” or “the school of life” on Facebook is 99% likely to not only be catastrophically ignorant, but also noisily proud of their own ignorance.

It’s Enema Time (Roommate Asylum, Part 2)

It’s Enema Time (Roommate Asylum, Part 2)

By on December 26, 2014 in Roommate Asylum

To Marry Marie

My eyes darted from Jerry to the front door. “Should I retreat to the safety of my bedroom, or use my momentum to make a break for the courtyard?” I wondered. Having lived with Jerry for a few weeks, one thing had become clear—there was something profoundly wrong with the man. Conversations were interminable, pointless, and often bizarre. Avoidance was my plan for Jerry.

In spite of being hopped up on adrenalin, I had taken too long to evaluate my options. I realized he had looked up from his magazine and was grinning at me in that disturbing lunatic way he had. There was no escaping it. I sat down in the chair next to the sofa and asked the crazy son-of-a-bitch what he was reading. He set a Bic Ballpoint pen down and we embarked on a weird voyage through Jerry’s mental illness.

“I was reading this article in Time and I found some very interesting things. Here have a look,” He began thrusting the magazine at me. I reluctantly accepted the thing and read through the article it was turned to. A random hodgepodge of words were circled. He had drawn lines connecting some words to others and he had written a number of nonsensical notes in the margins. When I looked up, the lunatic was grinning from ear to ear and nodding encouragingly.

“Don’t you see?” He was sitting on the edge of the cushion. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to encourage him, but I also didn’t want to end up wrapped in tinfoil in the freezer.

Jerry’s betrothed?

“Marie Osmond!” He blurted out.

“Marie Osmond?” I repeated.

“Here! Come listen to this. Then, it’ll all make sense.” He leapt to his feet and headed for his bedroom. Like every poor dumb bastard fallen victim in every horror movie ever, I followed him to his lair. He placed a tape in his cassette player, reset the counter, and fast forwarded it to a number he clearly had memorized.

“Just listen to this!” he said triumphantly and hit the play button. It was Marie Osmond launching into what has to be the whitest-ever episode of scat singing in the history of music. He punched the stop button and turned to me, his face aglow, and said “See?”

Against my better judgement, I slowly shook my head.

“Didn’t you hear her say ‘North Valley State College’?” he headed back down the hall and sat down on the sofa again.

During the relocation, Jerry’s monologue continued, never missing a beat, “God told me I should move here and marry Marie Osmond, and every time I hear something or read something, God reaffirms to me that I am here to marry Marie Osmond and go to North Valley State College. I have to go give myself an enema now. I’ll be out in a minute.” The words came out in a tumble. I watched silently as he waddled back down the hall and shut his door.

It’s Enema Time

I sat on the sofa and stared at the black screen of the TV trying to digest this new information. I reached for the Time Magazine, but then I remembered the enema thing, and decided I didn’t want to touch it any more. I heard a key in the front door. It swung open and Jack stepped through in that languid way he had.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said as he tossed his backpack on the kitchen table. All I could manage was a shake of the head until I saw him heading down the hall.  There were six of us all total and three bedrooms. And Jack had been the last to move in, which meant he got to bunk with Jerry.  As he headed towards their room, I called after him.

“Uh, hey Jack, Jerry said he was going in there to uh…give himself an enema?”

“Oh, he told you about that, huh?” Jack came back to the living room and turned on the TV.

“So, that’s not, like, code for something? He’s actually giving himself an enema in your room?”


“Does he do that very often?”

“Second time since we moved in.”

There was another key in the front door. This time Carl burst in clutching a carburetor or something out of a BMW’s engine. He carefully set the thing down on a newspaper that was sitting on the kitchen table between Jack’s backpack and Sam’s computer.

“Hey guys, is Jerry home?” He asked.

“Yeah, but it’s enema time,” Jack replied. Jesus, I must have had my head buried in the sand. Was I the only one who didn’t know about these enemas?

Carl’s face broke into an impish grin and he leapt down the hall way and started banging on Jack’s door.

“Hey Jerry! Hey! Hey Jerry! Whatcha doing in there?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t antagonize him,” I said to no-one in particular.

Carl darted back into the living room and jumped into the sofa and assumed the attitude of someone who had been reading the Time Magazine instead of instigating shit with a lunatic down the hall.

I ventured to ask, “Hey, has he told you guys about the Marie Osmond thing?” The confused looks on their faces answered that question for me.

Just then, Jerry burst out of his room, and he was pissed off to the point of incoherence. “Carl, I know that was you. I’m doing a medical procedure and I deserve some privacy. My doctor prescribed that I need to do a home enema! You shouldn’t go around banging while I’m giving myself a medical proc—“ he grunted and clutched at his gut, and with stunning dexterity, executed an about-face and quick-waddled to the bathroom.

“Guys, see you later,” I said. And, like a big coward, I left.

Read Part 3 –>

About the Author

About the Author: Ian is a 3rd generation native of Southern Nevada, where he lives today in a quiet suburban neighborhood with his wife of twenty years and their two sons. Ian has earned his bread in a variety of occupations including stocking a beer freezer, mixing and pouring concrete, being a roadie for a synth punk band in San Francisco in the early 90's, being a not-very-well-known hard rock DJ, scenic carpentry, theatrical lighting design, theatrical sound design, playing Ku Klux Klan Member #5 in a professional production of "Grover", and writing for an virtually unknown, subversive, underground blog called Radio Free Las Vegas. .

Tagged With: ,

Comments are closed.