Hmm…
Daily Hey Magic Number: 90
Monthly Archives: December 2002
Phraseology
lucahack: I don’t know for sure that she made the sex with that fella
lucahack: but it seemed likely
StoneCo1dCrazy: made the sex?
StoneCo1dCrazy: so you can’t say for sure if she fucked his cock?
lucahack: I mean, I wasn’t there
lucahack: wasn’t invited upstairs to watch them have the fuck
StoneCo1dCrazy: stop making me laugh with your funny phrases!
StoneCo1dCrazy: it hurts!
lucahack: sorry
lucahack: I really cunted the cock on that one
StoneCo1dCrazy: you made me drool then!
Daily Hey Magic Number: 91
Are you ready?
foldingsuplex: Are you ready for Some FOOTBALL?!?!
lucahack: no
foldingsuplex: you need to GET READY
lucahack: no
foldingsuplex: you should at least THINK ABOUT getting ready.
lucahack: for football?
foldingsuplex: yes.
lucahack: no
foldingsuplex: think about getting ready for some football. please.
lucahack: this is very important to you
foldingsuplex: it is important TO YOU
foldingsuplex: you just don’t know it yet.
Daily Hey Magic Number: 92
I’m so happy about Jesus
Have you heard about the Christ, Jesus Christ of Nazareth?
He’d been tacked up to a tree or something ? a cross, that’s it.
And anyway, the fella died, or anyhow, so it seemed,
Such a total shame, such a nice boy. Good speaker.
So his fans had been distraught, setting up their vigils and whatnot,
And it got a little crazy with the mourning. No, not in the morning. At night.
But then some drunkards got the idea of busting into his tomb.
And wouldn’t you know it? He wasn’t in there.
Well, perhaps his grave was robbed, his body taken from the place.
And that’s what they all figured happened. Right?
But others say, and I agree, he escaped death somehow.
He faked his death and got away!
I’m so happy about Jesus!
I’m so happy about the Christ!
I hope he has a nice life! I hope he finds a wife!
Never wanted him to die, oh no, not I.
Well, if he is alive, I’m sure he’s far from here now.
Far from this god-forsaken place.
With its cruel and unusual punishment ? am I right, people?
I bet he hopes he never sees a fucking cross again!
I’m so happy about Jesus!
I’m so happy about that Christ boy.
Daily Hey Magic Number: 93
Cents
Reminds me of the time we went to dine inside the shrine
And the alligator waiter ate nine cents out of the dime
It was generous in general and was generally genteel
But the cents inside the skin did not appreciate the peel
Daily Hey Magic Number: 94
Umbrellas
Umbrellas are magnificent creatures;
They unify preachers and atheist teachers,
And short stubby clutchers and long lanky reachers,
And uggos and persons with handsomer features.
To use an umbrella is not at all draining,
And does not require significant training,
But nobody likes to get wet when it’s raining,
And anyone who says otherwise is a fucking liar.
Daily Hey Magic Number: 95
Goiter
There’s a lump in daddy’s throat where all the money goes. It’s so enlarged I’ve felt obliged to wear concealing clothes. And iodine would keep it fine, but that luxury’s not mine, so they give me all these pills, and I can’t swallow those.
My rep is lined with strep; I’ve been quarantined. My adam’s apple’s outlasted its warranty, and it’s bobbing in the tub, an irreparable flub of my heretofore untested biochemistry.
And the goiter in my throat will make it hard for me to cope. And it’s hard enough, considering I’ve lost all scope.
All these nodules on my module may asphyxiate, but inflammatory statements only escalate. And they’re growing so diffuse, soon they’ll fall into disuse, as I will not speak for fear that I might suffocate.
I’ve made a choice to throw my voice so it can carry me to the field beyond these hills where they’ll bury me. And if I don’t arrive, they’ll assume I’m still alive, and they’ll curse me for behaving so contrarily.
And the goiter in my throat will make it hard for me to cope. And I’d hang it up, but it would break right through the rope.
Daily Hey Magic Number: 96
Don’t read my mind
Don’t read my mind. If it makes you feel better, I can tell you what I’m thinking.
Don’t read my mind. But it’s not like I’m nervous; you’re no telepath, it’s true.
And if you read my mind, you’ll find I’m finely guarded ? I’ve reinforced my skull with an alarming peace of mind.
Try to read my mind. You’ll try, but my defenses will hamper your best efforts and will render them unfruitful.
And if you read my mind (and read this to imply: for one to read my mind, one must really, really try) ?
If you read my mind, well, I’m afraid you’ll find ? you’ll find I’m not afraid, not afraid you’ll read my mind.
You’ll try ? try, try again, but you won’t break through, I won’t let you see where my thoughts have been.
Read my mind if you intend, the results won’t satisfy you, you will have to try again.
Don’t read my mind. No.
Don’t read my mind.
Daily Hey Magic Number: 97
Today is Obvious Day
December 25, is, of course, Christmas. December 26 is the lesser-known holiday known as Boxing Day. But did you know that December 27 is also a holiday? That’s right. It’s Obvious Day. On Obvious Day, people are obliged to point out obvious things and reveal obvious information. It is also customary to point out to others that things they just said were completely obvious.
You will know you have celebrated the day correctly when it is painful to say “obvious” over and over. The repetition of the bv sound will cause capillaries in your lips and chin to burst, resulting in a large brown bruise beneath your bottom lip, right where your soul patch would be, if you had a soul patch. You should grow one. I think it would make you look cool.
Daily Hey Magic Number: 98
Master arguers
I recently spent hours and hours reading all the stories at Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About. I can only hope to one day be in a relationship so bickery and so beautiful.
Daily Hey Magic Number: 99
Fizz fusion
At this moment I am enjoying a cold bottle of IBC Black Cherry Soda. It is an excellent beverage, and I recommend it to all consumers. Support your local Independent Breweries Company! Although a quick Google search informs me that it is a subsidiary of Dr. Pepper/Seven-Up. Hmm.
Actually, it seems very complicated. The Independent Breweries Company manufactured non-alcholic beverages during Prohibition, it seems, but it closed soon after. The license to sell IBC brand beverages was bought by one company, whole sold it to another, who sold it to another, and so on, and so on, and so on, until 1980 the company that owned it was acquired by Seven-Up, Inc and it enjoyed a wider distribution. Dr. Pepper purchased Seven-Up in the mid-eighties and became, apparently, the Dr. Pepper/Seven-Up Company, which was purchased by Cadbury Schweppes in 1995.
Apparently it’s not just our media corporations that are merging together. Presumably one day Coca-Cola will own all of these. Do I care? No.
Not as long as IBC’s delicious Black Cherry Soda remains on the market.
Daily Hey Magic Number: 100
Quest for filler
A fair warning: I am going to post all kinds of stuff in order to meet this quota. Old class assignments, IM conversations, e-mail conversations, photos, drawings, links… basically all the stuff I would have posted anyway, except with a less discriminating selectivity.
I have also sent a notice out on my forum that I am seeking guest-written Heys. As my forum regulars are among the most intelligent people the internet has to offer, I can only hope that they’d be willing to help out with some filling.
Which reminds me, I also made a resolution to see a dentist this year. Where’s the danged yellow pages?
Daily Hey Magic Number: 101
It’s on
I sense that this is going to be something of a challenge.
You see, at the very beginning of this year, I made a promise that there would be 365 entries in this blog at the end of the year, even if it meant that I would have to write most of them on December 31.
Well, it turns out that there are so many left that I can’t afford to wait that long. Despite catching up at the end of June, I still managed to miss 93 entries between July 1 and today. Actually, I hit every day in July, so really, it’s that number between August 1 and today. And if you add in the posts I need to make for the remaining days of the year, that’s a grand total of 103 posts I have to make, including this one.
Faithful readers may recall last time, when I started off with 42 posts to make up. And even then, I had to rely on old journal entries and other things to meet that quota. But I am in Beavercreek right now and those journals are not with me. My friends, I may not even be able to use my own computer to make these entries (although by god I’m certainly going to try).
And on top of all this, I still have Christmas shopping to do, not to mention shopping for a car (more on that later). Who knows what nonsense I will rely on this time around? Isn’t it exciting?
Daily Hey Magic Number: 102
Tom terrific!
All right, so ESPN has a new TV-movie that they’re advertising starring Tom Berenger. The advertisement features critics’ quotes, and among them is “…his steeliest glares since Platoon…” —Dallas Morning News
Come on, that’s very funny.
He’s a rainbow
The day was like any other December day in Ohio — drab, dreary, and dreadful. Yet, what began in the morning hours and continued throughout the rest of the afternoon and on into the black night was a feat unsurpassed in its glory and splendor. It was like shaking hands with God, after which He reaches down, gently tugs on your testicles, and says “How’s yer father?” It was a bright ray of May sunshine on all of the unopened flowers of romance, still waiting, sleeping, in their dormancy. Birds began to sing; wild animals gave birth; we played basketball in the driveway — it was as if time had leapfrogged four months and summer vacation was in sight. It was the day my brother beat Mike Tyson.
It was ten, maybe fifteen years ago. My brother Leon couldn’t have been more than seven or eight at the time. Up until this point, he had showed no competency in any endeavor at all, save for memorizing the uniform numbers of the players on local basketball teams. But this day. When he put himself to bed at the end of this day, he was weary and spent, for he had bested the unbestable. He had conquered, from start to finish, with no codes or pussy-ass shit, one of the most difficult, challenging, blister/tendonitis/eyestrain-inducing games ever to be inserted, removed and blown into, and reinserted in an original Nintendo home entertainment unit. That’s right y’all — I’m talking about Mike Tyson’s Punch Out!
On this night, on the eve of the yearly anniversary of his birth, I toast him. Leon, few people ever have their moment in the sun. At seven or eight years of age, you had yours. You WERE the sun, and the moon, and the stars. A flame never burned so brightly.
Go Buckeyes.