AdPock

I just repotted this plant I’ve had for at least five years now. When I bought her, in Chinatown, she was a real beaut, her one thick green sprout sprouting all about like it did. Five years is a personal record for me as far as plant maintenance goes. I’m pretty proud of myself, but I’m really proud of my plant. So I decided to reward her with a repotting. (An occasion both of us were previously foreign to.) Upon initial purchase, my plant was just a wee one. But after five years, three rooms, and countless neglect, she has done nothing but blossom. Where once there was one wee sprout, now there are four hearty stalks. And the new pot is really sleek. With all the newfound space, there’s something about the re-arrangement that has all the makings of an allegory, though I’m not quite sure what it is. The longest of the sprouts is the leanest. He’s also got the best view, though his space is certainly being crouched upon. I assume he’s also the oldest, though I lost track during t...

Two days ago was my best day yet. Or at least it was my blog’s best day. A buddy of mine put me in touch with this guy, Ed, who works with some other guys over at this website called  Neatorama . And they were nice enough to put the link to my blog on their Facebook  page .  Because of that, I had almost 300 hits! About 280 more than I’m used to having on any given Tuesday. Which is a pretty darn good increase, percentage-wise, but by no means viral. Or really even enough to make a penny on. I’m serious: not even one penny. But still, I was so thankful to Ed for the cyber love. Like really thankful. Like exclamation points thankful! I actually can’t remember a better day since my wedding. (It has only been 5 months, and I have a really poor memory.) Watching that stat tracker spike! Then trying to figure out where the traffic was coming from with the intensity of a movie hacker. Then finding the source to be Neatorama’s Facebook page and the 6,000 people who Like...

AdPock needed a therapist after his latest therapy session.

L ast night, George had a triumph. And it wasn’t like his life was full of those.     George had been playing online poker again. It was about midnight by the time he had lost his fifth hand in a row, all in pitiful fashion. He wasn’t good. He had to face that. Maybe not perpetually bad, but recently bad, for sure.      At such a low, George faced a choice. If he wanted a chance at financial redemption, he would have to put more money in his online poker account. Again.      In spite of his predicament, George surprised himself by his own assertiveness. Like a movie hacker, blind with focus, George swiftly and courageously dragged the online poker application into the trash! George raised his hands to the heavens. In triumph, perhaps? Perhaps supplication?      Next morning, George stared at his computer for a long time. His glory waning fast. Finally, he made himself a deal. George opened his ...

. Deborah had all her ducks in a row. Except for that pesky Jew duck.

Don loved using his Cash Back Rewards Card because it made him feel like he actually had an income .

“Goddamit! It’s my couch. I had it made. I saw it in a catalog, went to the goddamn furniture maker and had it made. I’m sorry if you thought it was yours, but it’s not! You obviously didn’t hear me correctly. It’s mine and I want it back! Okay?” “No.” “Yes, Goddamit!” “No. You gave it to us. You said if I helped you move the other couch -- the couch that you really wanted, the one-tonner which gave me a hernia -- that you’d give us this couch. Give. Not loan.” “Gimme my couch!” “You sound like a petulant child.” “It’s mine! And you… you… you’re getting married! And have a great girl who loves you and I don’t even have a date, or a prospect of a date other than a 24-year-old intern who I mistakenly… Goddamit! You have my couch!” Abe was surprised when Mary showed up at his place for the couch the next day. He thought it was just one of her outbreaks, which would pass like a spring storm. He was even more surprised she'd actually talked the intern into moving it ...

After a good twenty minutes, Pete finally realized he was caught in the midst of a vicious rinse/repeat cycle. That's when Pete knew he had to stop smoking weed before showering.

I just read a headline that said, “Study Shows People Who Drink 6 Daily Cups of Coffee Live Just as Long as People Who Don't”. As I suspected, drinking coffee is no more beneficial, or detrimental, as not drinking coffee. I didn’t read beyond the headline, of course, because my phone isn’t really set up for full articles. But neither am I really; I’m definitely more of a big picture guy than a specific fine print type. So as far as I’m concerned, this golden nugget of information about caffeine needs no further substantiation. I’ve weaned what I need from the headline alone: I need not worry about how much caffeine I drink. Case closed. One less thing. I will go on drinking coffee with the same sort of needy dependence as ever.

It’s been a while since I last wrote for GLiving. Apparently, they’ve changed their style a bit. Formerly, as an eco-blogger there, my task was to take any old green story or product and simply rattle off my witty feelings about it. But now, having been invited to write for them yet again, I find that Gliving has shifted towards a more lifestyle-oriented approach. I’ve been asked to get personal. To pick something “G”, that I am passionate about, and to actually write what I know for once, instead of just what I feel. Which I think is groovy. I love the new direction. I love that the people who write there really know what they are talking about. Unfortunately, I don’t know if I fit into this category. Sure, I know about what I feel, but what do I know about what I actually do? “G” speaking, of course.  Beyond my politics, what exactly makes me green? As I started to think about my own “G” lifestyle, specifically the parts worth writing about, nothing really came to mind. I recycle...

Bill was beginning to wonder at what point the president’s emails should become spam.

I want to be my own man. To be free. But media, Pop culture, Society, Past, Present, Future, always the fucking future, Influence us at our most dependent times. But rebelliousness and independence are two flips of the same coin.

Nick was super psyched to be in a relationship. He just didn’t have the energy to trick any more girls into sleeping with him.

Glenn was totally happy for his team, no doubt. But a wispy, melancholy part of him wished he had his own playoffs to prepare for.

Mike was really enjoying country music lately, it was great to run to. But he did worry about becoming a republican.

Jerry used to be a really great listener. Then he got married.

Sure, Larry was worried what his wife might say if she found nothing but the one half-eaten piece of pizza left in the box, but he was much more worried about her throwing it out.

Edward : So I’m the one in charge? Eight Ball : As I see it, yes. Edward : But you have all the answers? Eight Bal l: Ask again later. Edward : You at least have some of the answers, right? Eight Ball : Better not tell you now. Edward : Like is now a good time to buy Cysco stock? Eight Ball : Cannot predict now. Edward : Okay, how about … will a six foot supermodel love me? Eight Ball : Concentrate and ask again. Edward : Will a six foot supermodel love me? Eight Ball : Don't count on it. Edward : Will someone love me? Eight Ball : It is certain. Edward : Will it hurt? Eight Ball : It is decidedly so. Edward : Will it be worth it? Eight Ball : Most likely. Edward : What if it’s not. Eight Ball : My reply is no. Edward : No what? No it's not likely or no it's not worth it? Eight Ball : My sources say no. Edward : No what? Eight Ball : Outlook not so good. Edward : Not so good to not be worth it? Or worth it? Eight Ball : Out...

Brad thought he was starting to understand a thing or two about a thing or two. But then one day, as he was washing up before dinner, he found a mysterious blemish on the back of his hand. Suddenly, Brad wondered if he’d ever really known anything at all.

Now that Art's Pop 2000 cattle prod had arrived, he was finally ready to shock the world.

Yesterday, by all accounts, had all the makings of a beautiful day. My wife finally had a Sunday off. The weather was supposed to be perfect. And the most happening street fair, The Abbot Kinney Festival, was taking place one town over. Alas, it was a Sunday. And not only were the Denver Broncos playing, but the Colorado Rockies were facing a must win. I had been greatly disappointed by both teams in the past. And I have struggled with my fanatical allegiance to Denver sports as the most silly and uncontrollable of my addictions. But, I had become fed up living for the hopes and dreams of other, stronger men. So on Thursday, after the Broncos lost another running back to a pulled hamstring, I agreed to skip watching the game to go to the fair with said wife.  However, when it came time to getting off the couch and foraging into the sunlight, I could not shake the fact that my teams needed me. How could I expect them to fight, if I was not there in the trenches with them? Fortu...

Ned looked in the mirror and flinched. Again, he thought he was getting pulled over. That was when Ned decided to shave his mustache.

As Cameron watched his third football game of the day, he began to feel a bit lethargic. But then he remembered how very important all the games were.

Joey Bags had okay hair all his life. Then one day, he up and died! At his funeral, the lady in charge of making Joey presentable accidentally parted his hair on the wrong side. Everyone thought Joey looked much better.

One chick, two chick Black chick, Jew chick That one looks good in a car That one looks good from a far That one’s got some funky hair That one’s skin is freckled fair I like em when they pump their gas I like em when they shake their ass I like em when they jam on bass I like em when they’re in your face Three chick four chick Good chick, whore chick That one jiggles when she runs That one seems a slave to sun But five chick six chick I start to learn Of the good chicks I dig For whom I yearn For whom I live For whom I give. And then comes seven-chick. Turns out she's the one.

Frank wasn’t particularly pleased with his new shampoo/conditioner; it just didn't give his hair the proper texture.  But though he knew it would be a long, unsatisfying road, Frank pledged to use up the whole tube before he bought a more luxury brand.

As he mopped the floor, Brad wondered if he would rather sneeze while driving or peeing.

Andy was really hungry. Not really hungry, really. Not like anyone who watched LiveAid back in ‘85 would consider really hungry. But still, really hungry for Andy. A while later, Andy pulled into the first McDonalds he saw. Well, the first one on his right.

At last count, on Saturday, Sid had exactly 43 different species of plants on his balcony. Sid didn't know any of their names, Latin or otherwise.

As Tom peed, he realized she was right there in the other room, there beyond that wall. There alone, waiting for him to make a move. He peed with vigor after that, because vigor was all he had with her.

Redhead Ed read a headline that said: “Salt Only Bad for Some People”. Redhead Ed automatically assumed he was not one of those people. A while later, he went down to the snack truck and bought a bag of Ruffles.

Jan McTan takes her baby, Dan, to the coffee shop, at precisely three each weekday, to meet her Mommy Coffee Group. Dan and the other coffee babies aren't even big enough to get out of their buggies yet. Or maybe they’re just not allowed out. The Coffee Mommies sit there and drink complex coffee drinks. Chit-chatting away, while the babies stare up at the ceiling. To Dan, the world appears a scary place, until a random coffee shop weirdo puts his dreadlocks over the stroller and babababababaaahhhhhs.

Rosarita was a hot senorita, A hot senorita indeed. I met her at a Christmas party. I asked her if she'd dance with me. I asked her nice, I even said please. But Rosarita didn’t want to dance with me. She said she was a lesbian bisexual identified in the same sentence she told me she was from Topeka .

Moose didn’t know which was better, his two story bong or his two story funnel?

The other day, Brad cleaned so anally he started cleaning the cleaning products. He spent twenty minutes cleaning his broom.  Brad got so tired, he couldn’t actually go through with sweeping the kitchen floor.

G. Green Freeman is kinda Jewish, mostly by food. But every year, G. feels guilty enough to test the religious waters again and go to temple for Rosh Hashana.  This year, when G. went to Hollywood for shul, he saw Spock and Captain Kirk, wearing Yarmulkes and talking to one another.  G figured there was two ways of looking at such a sight. He could realize the whole religion thing is about as real as a television show about space. Or, he could believe the television show about space had more to do with Judaism than he first thought.

I don't have any angle really. I don't have a goal. No subtext. Just trying to have a good time. You know. Without hurting anyone. But if you have a problem with that, world. I will kick your ass.

HERE he knows his cave here his woman here his cat his dog his child here in this spot. sacred hallowed ground. here in the canyon here out at sea. free to hear. the land begs a truce from me. free to hear a land greater than me.