Category: absurdist

Fuddy-Duddy Study Buddy

Do your friends and loved ones sometimes/constantly refer to you as a fuddy-duddy through no fault of your own?

Is your worldview a tad more progressive and alienating than the average bear’s?

Does the resulting existential void leave you longing for a sense of companionship while you burn the candle at both ends to support your workaday lifestyle and inner child?

If one or more of these has happened to you, then don’t you fret! Dr. “Nutty” Muddy S. McGillicuddy has just unveiled his latest invention: The Fuddy-Duddy Study Buddy!

Simply download the proprietary app and connect to fuddy-duddies in your area! The app (short for “application”, for our more luddite buddies out there) is flooded with study buddy knowledge that’s been orally passed down through the last several dozen digital generations (they just upgrade those gadgets too fast nowadays, we feel your pain). We’ve laid out all of the information in a common sense and larger-font format, for an ease of use factor that even the ruddiest and sluttiest fuddy-duddies can appreciate.

Did we mention the app is free? And no, we will NEVER charge you for basic access. However, if you wish to get the all-access scoop (proven to increase “with-it-ness” by an average of 42% over the control group), you can purchase the wisdom of Dr. McGillicuddy in his in-app store: Dr. “Nutty” Muddy S. McGillicuddy’s Miracle Fuddy-Duddy Study Buddy Putty! It’s just as exciting as it sounds! Now you can waste hours upon hours surfing through dank memes and using Dr. McGillicuddy’s Putty to copy/paste them on top of one another, just the way folks used to preserve their favorite comic strips on a stretched-out rubberized pink putty substance that would be stored in an egg of all things.

So if any of this appeals to you, give us a call. Wait, we don’t have a phone number. Well, however you figure out how to reach us, we’ll be here.

Larry Lou Hu

The gaidens being offered (ninja or otherwise) must be propelled by moral turpitude, especially if their turpentine-laced morel mushroom business sends morsels to Larry Lou Hu, that guy who said he’d prefer to die in a mysterious way, like by just not waking up one morning. “Some kind of internal organ thing” is the way he always puts it. I can only listen to his moaning for so long before buying him a drink. “Belly up to the bar, Larry Lou, this next one’s on me.” That lifts his spirits somewhat. He sputters on the tequila, no turpentine necessary in this one. Tequila is actually worse for you (no it’s not, are you kidding?). I then reassure him that he really doesn’t want to die, and that there are multiple ways to die with a purpose, like from getting shot in the back while running from the Chicago police, for one. At least then he’ll be a statistic that goes into a more official drawer down at city hall, and he’ll most likely have people instituting candlelight vigils in his honor, helping to further the message that no matter who you are, the police will kill you. Plus, getting shot in the back is an internal malady of sorts, and you can’t see it coming. “Pretty much fits all your criteria, does it not, LL?” He laughs and shrugs it off.

“I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“Larry Lou, you crazy bastard, maybe I’ll be the one to kill you, with the sheer number of times you’ve said that to me over the years.”

“Touché, Jerry. Touché.”

Amalgam

What does one type when one has no idea what one should be typing? Also, what kind of work must be made on a normal basis if one is to be considered a writer, or even a basic typist? The answer is likely more rhetorical than actual, but I believe that it exists within a kind of continuum much too subtle for human observation. Now why would I be addressing such a scenario anyway? Seems to be some kind of joke, like this guy just can’t string more than two sentences together without some kind of complaint or existential crisis. And perhaps that’s the point of it; do any of us have the ability to jump into a narrative and string more than two interesting sentences together, keeping in mind that this is right off the bat when the brain still has to get adjusted to some kind of critical thinking for once? I would say the answer to that is a definite probably, which means that we may have an identifiable protagonist without even introducing them to the reader (or at the very least, some kind of character worth tracking in snippets throughout their day). And we would suppose that an audience needs a familiar protagonist in order to soldier on through otherwise incomprehensibly dense prose. But what would make this protagonist compelling? I’d say some kind of scraped knee or questioning of an authority figure would immediately port the audience into the realm of empathy; you really gotta hook them into caring about an amalgam of letters and syntax.

Robust

Miranda sold me this veranda one fine Sunday morning, while we were traipsing through the park (minding our own business like it was nobody’s business). She casually broached the subject in between more salient topics–chili mongers and termite hobbyism–as though she hadn’t really been thinking about it that much. Turns out that she’d been waiting in the wings for me to shut up so she could drop her latest deal bombshell on me: a 3/4-size veranda for the price of a small turkey (12 lbs. or less) down at the Froger.

Pancetta salesmen are not too common these days–in contrast to our robust ecosystem of chili mongers–but Miranda and I walked past one that same afternoon just as we happened to be discussing the virtues of veggies. He played it cool like he didn’t hear us, but I know he did (from the twitch in his left eyebrow).

Unappealing Capitalism

The Squadranary Terpscentral Reality Modification Pak (STeRM Pak for short) does seem to have an ulterior motive, or at least some kind of schnitzelfritz that we could sample while stoogifying the unwashed masses for the purposes of gambling. Though these folks wouldn’t have any personal wherewithal in the investment arena, they always seem to have contact info for a person or seven who could give them great stock tips at any time. The investment inflection point rarely comes to pass, as the stoogified masses–in order to complete their training–must become petrified and stupefied in addition to the already rigorous stoogifying certification process. After a quick observation of the situation and the rubrics contained therein, I may be starting to regret my decision to peel away from the world tiddlywinks championship for such unappealing capitalism.

Gypsum Goals

Gypsum goals extend past scrupled stallion asparagus, mama.

Jack Kerouac’s First Friend “On the Road” (probably)

(Allegedly) Happy

Rocking around the clock is my commercial mantra (for lack of a better one). It’s got that smarmy hint of entendre without actually going smutty on the reader/recipient of jargon/vernacular–just snarky enough catch on with the younger faux-hipster set, while simultaneously being too naïve for the true hipster set. The thing about hipsters: they are a necessary force for good in this universe, though somewhat impossible to deal with on a regular basis. Even your typical fair-weather hipster will acknowledge this paradox of existence, as they’re (allegedly) happy just to be included in the conversation at all.