persiflage
urbane yet pithy
May 14th, 2009
A man carried a monkey about for a shew and because he was a little wiser than the monkey, grew vain and conceiv'd himself as much wiser than seven men. Wm. Blake is updated on Thursdays. ClassifiedsFor sale: a specially trained potato. Plays the flute and answers to the name Tubey Tuber (even though his name is Stan - that's the special training). $14 only but you MUST provide a good home. NO EATING HIM! Box 22.
Tips For Spring Living:Number 8: Bathing suit season is fast approaching. Start shaving your back now.  Listen to Part Five of ArchivesLinksCare enough to send us an email? |
A Few Words of Friendly AdviceOver the years you have, no doubt, come to rely on Persiflage for good sound advice about how to live your life (I will refrain from commenting on how sad that is - no I won't, it's sad). Fitness, romance, finance to name but three unrelated words that have nothing to do with anything. We here at this organisation have always pretended to have your best interests at heart and our articles have reflected this. You may recall that only last year we explained the best way for you to construct your very own space station and why this was the kind of thing you might want to do. Well, in that spirit we have resolved this week to give you sage words of wisdom on the subject of inter-personal relationships. What do I mean? I mean - getting along with your fellow human beings (assuming that you are human, if you are a star-nosed mole, or cormorant or delicious ladyfinger (the cookie not the appendage, hmmm, I could go for one of those right now) you may have to slightly alter some of this advice - for instance substitute the words "dirthole" for "apartment", "diving for fish" for "riding on the bus" and "lying on a plate" for "hanging around in bars"). Let's face it, getting along with others is a huge part of life (whether we like it or not). Every time you leave your apartment, whether you are riding the bus or hanging around in bars, you are likely to run into other people and just killing them outright, before they have a chance to do or say anything offensive and/or stupid, is often not an option. Sadly you must interact with them. No matter how difficult or intractable people may appear on the surface they are all fully rounded human beings with their own reasons for doing things and it behooves us to try and work with them to resolve differences and find equitable solutions. You must be creative in your dealings with others. Currently, for instance, I am having a problem with the chess program on my computer. Calling himself by the improbable name of Chess Titans (how's that for grandiose!) he is in the habit of pretending to be a bad player, letting me take his Queen very early in the game and so forth and then suddenly becoming much, much better and checkmating me repeatedly whilst only allowing me the occasional stalemate. And all this at his so-called "EASY" level. Oh sure, I could rant and rave and throw his little electronic home across the room or down the stairs. I could boot him right in his stupid smug stupid face (perhaps even while wearing an actual boot - maybe even one with a nail taped on the end of it or something). Or I could shriek at him in a terrifyingly loud (and shrieky) voice. But this is not what I do. I have resisted. I have chosen another path. I have taken to writing unkind letters to his mum, Mrs. Titans. Now before you write in and say: "Hey, why are you bothering that poor little old lady?" let me just say this - this is a woman who named her son Chess. And besides, he probably learned this crappy behaviour somewhere and also how do you know she is little and old? She may have had him when she was very young. And in addition - shut up! Who asked you? Hugh Briss |
A wee snippet from the works of  Ford Johnson, Male NovelistIt was a rainy day. The kind of day that made you glad you weren't a sugar cube sitting out on some jerk's lawn. I squinted hard into the driving rain and turned up my collar. It was really coming down. I hunched my shoulders. You couldn't see through all the goddam sheets of rain. I flipped my pajama collar back down and turned away from the window, pulled the duvet back over me and went back to sleep. Tomorrow was only twelve and a half hours away. TV Poemsfrom the collection
Balding, stocky, loving Jim Boarie space
Bald prairie. Emptiness. Nothing. The end space Is that the guy
Rodney Derriere space
Glimpsed
But avoidance
That's Raven. Jay Walker |