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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.

I’m so beaming proud. Twenty years later, and the Nuggies are back in the thick of things. I remember those 1985 Denver Nuggets well. I remember every Denver Nuggets team since. I remember Alex English came to read his poetry at my school. That guy was as graceful off the court as he was on. Amazing Grace and Chuck as was. I remember Danny Shayes sat in front of me at Temple one year, allowing me to sleep without the rabbi being able to see me behind the seven-footer. I remember being the team with the most seven foot white stiffs in the history of the league—Danny Shayes, Blair Rasmussen, Tim Kempton, and Scott Hastings. That’s nearly thirty feet of stiff effort and eight sharp elbows. I remember the decline; the depths of a slide. I remember Orlando Woolridge scoring 30 points a game for Paul Westphal’s sub .250 team. I remember changing our uniform’s right after that, hoping to forever forget those bleak days. I remember drafting Chris Jackson and winding up with Mahmoud ...

My buddy, also from Denver, also from Cuse and therefore also Carmelo’s biggest fan in the Staple Center last night, got us pretty darn good seats to a pretty damn good game. Did I say ‘pretty good’, I meant goddamn! Goddamn what a game! I thought for sure my nervous energy was making it down to the bench. That it was I who was Butterfly Effecting my team’s shots to clank, clank, clank so badly during the warm up. I tried to fight such nerves, tried to dumb them with alcohol. But alas, the pressure was too great: being down 1-0, having already given what many were saying was our best shot at taking this series. Clank after clunking clank. Even Melo missed all his warm-ups. I tried not to blame myself, but I couldn’t help it. I knew I shouldn’t have come. I knew I was bad for my team. The game started much the same way...clank, clank, clank. The fouls started racking up: Tweet! Tweet! Tweet! Even the refs felt my bad energy. The more I complained, the more we complained, the more th...

Mundane Jerry thanks you for looking.