beach hopping

squirrel and mahatma were in south beach riding the waves. alicia was drinking dunkin donuts coolatas and was feelin pretty good. maxim hit the harder stuff; daiquiris. the scene was so chill, you would have never imagined what was lurking deep beneath the surface water, in the ocean's icy bowels. it was a gigantic monstrous audacious murderous TO BE CONTINUED

u r special

tonight's special at salt lick chateau- fofu ala carte ($27.95). this exotic Ghanaian dish is made up of the finest ingredients- onion grass, coconut, weevil, dylar compound yellow 5. also including yr choice of 3 scrumptious side dishes- twizzler sticks, lobster claw soup, organic dylar yellow 5 compound. come now and we'll throw in a free Mimosa.

Meet the chef. winner of american kitchen-

SYD

part 3 (squirrel diving)

the pez army approached, lusting for the kill. Mahatma jumped out the 4th story window and miraculously landed on his paws. "get out of the fucking car now." Mahatma screamed at a nearby driver, flaunting his magnum in the air. the driver of the bmw s class ran away in fright. Mahatma jumped behind the wheel and put the pedal to the medal, swerving and bumping down the steep hills and narrow streets of San Fransisco 1975. but the druids were not far behind. their caravan included 7 dark suvs and a hummer. they also have a helicopter and a speed boat. TO BE CONTINUED

Matilda self portrait (castration anxiety)

dream couples
capt. ahab (not to be confused with other ahab) + michelle pfeiffer
rashid + whitney
sandra bullock + levon

a fairy tale ending (walk the fur plank)

Reese Witherspoon, Alicia, and Igor were walking on the beach watching the surf wash up onto the rocks. Igor was wearing no shoes. Alicia was wearing sandals. Reese was wearing Moccasins. Igor was scanning the sand, looking for the shells. A huge crab crawled out of a hole. It scurried towards the friends and grabbed hold of Igor. It swung him by the tail, capitulating him into the surf. Igor can't swim. Alicia screamed in horror. Reese ran towards the water. Igor was helpless. A wave was about to crash over his minute furry body, already soaked with salt water, caked with sand. HELP screamed Igor at the top of his lungs but it was too late. The ocean swallowed him up. He was swept out to sea. Reese could see his bushy tail poking through the white caps far out past the breakers. Alicia Silverstone called her dad Shel Silverstein, who is captain of the local coast guard patrol but everyone knew that the chances of finding Igor alive were miserable. The worst part of all was that Igor's family, being Catholic, could not have an open casket funeral as was their want. Igor's mother is devastated. Igor sleeps with fishes and drowned squirrels in the depths of night. Reese Witherspoon eats giant crabs in a Malibu condo. Alicia Silverstone mourns at the chapel, stays awake for days on end, and takes amphetamines to dull the pain of loss.

what is candy doing tonight?

rashid's war

as i was saying, we descended into depths of chocolate. there were rivers of milky chocolate, flowing like hot lava, yielding a nostalgic steam that reminded one of winter days spent at the craft fair with a cup of mother’s finest hot chocolate in hand, bobbing for apples, chasing turkeys. i clutched the Nestle key in my hand. suddenly, i was overcome with the urge to take a bite out of it. oh how delicious it was! crispy golden outside, smooth caramel inside. a meal fit for the titans. BIG MISTAKE. i nearly ate the whole key before I realized that I had just digested my only ticket out of this twisted realm, this warped chocolate prison. i was trapped. without the key i could not access the twizzler ladder or enter the hall of gummi bears. i would never return to earth. never absorb the rays of a sun that is not a cadbury egg. at that moment the army of pez dispensers began to march towards me, their gaping holes seemingly intent on swallowing up my very being, they were lusting for human flesh. there were thousands of pex cadets arranged in a line as far as the eye could see, cloaked in little loin clothes barely covering their private pez parts. The general was a specimen onto himself. Standing 10 meters tall at the front of the line urging his comrades on with shouts of “never take our freedom.” i grabbed the first thing that caught my eye- a gigantic dum dum lollipop and used all my power to swing it menacingly around my head. i wanted to convince the pez army that i was a mad man, incapable of defeat. i hooted and howled. they were not impressed and continued to advance. the chocolate mahogany doors slammed shut behind me. the key was in my stomach dissolving in a pool of gastric acids. there was only one thing left to do. TO BE CONTINUED

Rashid's debacle

from the hairy mouth of rashid himself

i stumbled across the golden key last evening. it was buried nearby some shrubs. at first i didn't know what to make of it but then i saw the ancient inscriptions. there were hieroglyphic symbols engraved onto the base of the key. the key was gleaming. it must have been made of 34 karrot. it was also very heavy. i carried it to my friend who is knowledgeable about hieroglyphics and ancient magic. after a preliminary examination he said it looked like what has been referred to as the key to the catacombs of Damascus- a key that will unleash confined demons. i booked a flight to Damascus. i sprinkled myself with holy water just to be safe before entering the tombs. i descended down deep, deep, deep, deeper into the darkness TO BE CONTINUED

A time for family and joyous festivity. A time for gathering around the ceremonial table and reclining in recognition of our ancestors who were slaves. That's right it's that time of year again and all are welcome (except Leonora). Here's the yummy deets (can't wait to see ya'll);

Seder this year is at Levon's nest. Mark your calenders. Levon's nest is a cute little place in the village in a big old oak- the kind you wish you lived in. Marvelous views 24hr doorman, washing machine, you get the picture (Levon what the fuck do you pay for that place? how much dick you have to suck?) All Levon asks in return for his generosity is 1. if you know any Jewish squirrels who don't have a place to go to on Passover please by all means invite them to join us 2. do not invite any humans. additionally, please come prepared with interesting thoughts and questions regarding the theme of Liberation and also the theme of alienation in modernity. There will be bitter dank herb galore, chicken bone, and Deborah's voracious ancestral charosset. next year in Jerusalem.

portrait of Olbert as a young man

Just got off the phone with the author himself. Olbert told me that he's chosen a title for his forth coming autobiography (previewed on this site not 3 hours ago) - the book's gonna be called "The Hashish Diaries" and will focus on all aspects of Olbert's existance including his time in Turkish prision, his participation in Timothy Leary's first acid experiments, his notorious involvement in Watergate, and details of his juicy affairs with former President Gerald Ford and talk show host Montel. Be sure to check out what is sure to be the hottest tell all since Rachel Ray's classic cookbook cum memoir "me and rover"

family tree=

patriarch= olbert + sandra

kin= Igor + Leonora

offspring= levon, rashid, simba

a chapter from the autobiography of olbert

i came to this country in 1897, following the potatoe famine and the czarist revolution in lithuania. i didn't have any money for a ticket so i stowed away on a german ocean liner called the lufthansia. for 7 weeks while we were crossing the atlantic i survived on butter cookies and apple juice which i found a plenty in the ship's hold. it was not so boring down there. i became friendly with several rats with whom i'd occasionally share my ration of butter cookies. there was one female rat, elke, who i would paint in the nude. how pleasing was her perfect bushy tail! i painted her in the ample morning light- i painted her in the evening, her yellow eyes illuminated by the last rays of the dying sun. i painted her dozens of times and we made love but when her rich husband edmond caught onto the affair he forbade her to see me and challenged me to duel. i fought him and severed his tail but he lived. when we landed on ellis island i had to wait for days on line. when i finally got to the head of the line i was examined by a mean old man with gingivitis. i had to give him my last scheckl in order to enter the states. on the docks i found work as a longshoresman.

there are devils living among us in the flesh, masquerading as sherpas and yoga instructors. devils of the new year we shall refer to them as- do you know who they are? not yr parents. i know of two off the top of my head. 1 is a vile man who resorts to spiritual co modification as a means of self justification. you might say he is selling out the dali lama. oh his intent seems so pure to you now- but mediate upon his impact and vocabulary and the shocking truth will fuck you up. it is the role of the preacher, intellectual, squirrel to unveil these devastating thinly veiled abominations, to uncover the incest that lurks beneath the seemingly innocuous facade of whole foods, et al. number 2 still to come- his name starts with s - one might say he is giving it to the people whole sale, if my drift is clear enough

off to the vicious east- a two week lama trek thru the canyons followed by base jumping off mt. washington. we will survive off acorns and road kill. we will leave no trace. we will sleep suspended 12000 ft up in the himalayas with no oxygen or sherpas. we take peyote at the mall of america and transform into squirrels. then we will be back to dog sit and resume german class. i will fed ex you the agenda

BREAKING NEWS

Last year, the company went so far as to trademark “technosexual,” anticipating it could become a buzzword for marketing to millennials, the roughly 80 million Americans born from 1982 to 1995. A typical line from the press materials for CK in2u goes like this: “She likes how he blogs, her texts turn him on. It’s intense. For right now.”

sometimes the voice of a single squirrel gets drowned out in the insane white noise of the blogosphere. but this is the way igor would have wanted it. let me give a short history for those of you who are not familiar; born 1890 in Transylvania. 1918- forced into exile by the czarist regime becomes futurist poet in bakino faso 1945- indited for complicity with nazi authorities in africa 1960- receives new found admiration from generation of young radicals. poetry rediscovered by critics and students alike. 1992- appears at mtv music awards to present award for best female artist (madonna, duh) 2007- run over by bus of horrendous gum chewing school children on their way to ride roller coasters and eat greasy foods and drink sprite
never forget igor (friend & prophet to young and old alike. saint of jolly ranchers and the block corner)

I AM A NEW YORK YOGA INSTRUCTOR WHO HAPPENS TO BE A SQUIRREL NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND!

today i witnessed my best friend igor get run over by a busload full of hideous children, snorting, their faces covered with acne, their mouths lined with metal, their hands grasping terrible multi-colored balloons; purple, yellow, orange helium infused orbs trailing behind the caravan of catastrophic debasement. They were on their way to Six Flags Great Adventure. Cries of debauchery were audible emanating from the bus, vicious giggles, haunting songs of death- old mc donald had a farm, ei ei o. Who is this old mcdonald, saint of cretins and war mongerers? where is his farm so that i may kill him in revenge??? OH IGOR, I shouted into the air. WAS HABEN SIE DIR GEMACHT I chanted wildly in Igor’s native tongue. Igor’s eyelids flashed open for a fraction of a second- his yellow iris met mine- he mumbled something in German, I recognized the word Mutter. The rest was incomprehensible. Then his eyelids slammed shut. The essence of life left his corpus. Igor's squirrel soul floated up into the heavens. I was alone on 4th street with not an acorn to my name.

PURIM FESTIVITES BEGIN NOW

the miracle of spring! the cherries burst forth from their bulbs! the slumbering squirrel awakens! he climbs forth from his dank lair smelling of squirrel sweat and dung where he has spent the past fortnights meditating on the previous solstice cycle, making silent resolutions to himself- to go to yoga more often, to give up horse tranquilizers and onion cream cheese; the horrible occurrences of the tropical months resonating throughout his peanut sized brain, seeping into his bloodstream like a never ending cacophony of terrorism, ENOUGH! the squirrel rises, shakes off his bushy tail, enamoring himself at the sun's bright orb, its rays warming his coat. the squirrel scurries forth, up trees, down into sewers, playfully in search of fresh acorns and decomposing bodies to feast on, for with the spring comes the unfilled promise of redemption! NEXT YEAR IN JERUSALEM!