Rusty the impatient golden retriever

It is old saying:  “Every dog has its day.”  But for Rusty, a golden retriever on Manhattan’s lower east side the question is “when?”  I sat down with Rusty for an interview before he went to audition for the role of Willy Loman in a new  production of “Death of a Salesman”.

“Yeah, I know.  The role has never gone to a dog before, but if  Dustin Hoffman can play it…..” he said.

“I’ve been in Manhattan for a couple years now and what have I got to show for it?  Nothing! Everybody I know has moved on.  That chiquahua in the movies?  I knew that punk when he was hustling in the village.  Now he’s neck deep in ass in Hollywood. What about me?  The only job I’ve been able to get is ghostwriting Maureen Dowd’s column.”

“I’m busting my ass here looking for work – any job no matter how humiliating.  The other day I rounded up some strays and brought them into the kitchen of a Vietnamese restaurant.  They thought I was going to show them where the cats hung out. Poor bastards.  It broke my heart.”

Rusty’s story is a familiar one.  Every year thousands stream into New York City looking for fame and fortune.  Some succeed. Some fail.  Many end up in retail.

When he first arrived in New York, Rusty followed in many a dog’s footsteps:  He got a job as a seeing eye dog  “I wasn’t very good at it.  The blind guy I was leading ended up being crushed by a garbage truck. I guess my mind wasn’t in it. I was just trying to pay the rent while I shopped my screenplay around…..by the way, do you want to read it?  No?  Well f— you then.  You’re lucky I don’t pee on your shoes.”

I asked Rusty if he had any stories he wanted to share.  “I was supposed to be in a production of ‘Little Orphan Annie’ but that bitch who played Annie didn’t like me.  I mean just because I humped her leg she got me fired.  I can’t help it.  I’m a dog for christ sakes, and I’ve always liked redheads.  Hey, you gonna smoke that?” 

I gave him one of my cigarettes.

“Damn that’s a good smoke.  Thanks man.  I mean, c’mon.  I’m a good looking dog.  Whose crotch do I have to sniff around here to catch a break?”

I had one final question for Rusty:  How much longer can pursue his dream?

“I’ll give it a couple more years.  But in the end you have to hang on to your dignity.  I don’t want to end up like those dogs you see making soft core porn for Cinemax. If it doesn’t happen I guess I can go live with my uncle in Kenosha.”

I wished Rusty well on his audition and left him as he chatted up a Yorkshire Terrier, just another dog in the city.

(220)

Jeremy Rogers is not your typical 24 year old old male.  On a Saturday night, Jeremy can be found sitting in front of his computer posting to his blog.

“For years I’ve been obsessed with Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner.  And now I’ve turned that love into a blog” he said while eating a bagel with cream cheese at a local coffee bar.

Belonging to several online dating services, Jeremy often asks his dates to meet him at the coffee bar.  “Sometimes I never even look at my dates when I’m talking to them.  I’m so into blogging.”  When asked what his date’s response is Jeremy says “Well, usually they leave after about 10 minutes.  And I don’t understand that.  I thought women found male obsession with cartoons to be ‘childlike and endearing.’ “

Jeremy’s obessions predate his blogging.   Voted “Least likely to know the touch of a woman” in high school,  he would often stay at home with VHS copies of his favorite cartoons. “I would call up friends of  mine and tell my theories about the cartoons, like how I think  Wile E. Coyote represents the independent trucker and the Road Runner is a managment thug.  Sometimes my friends would get upset with me because they had their girlfriends in the room at the time. Eventually they stopped taking my calls.”

After graduating college with a degree in Metal Shop, Jeremy moved back in with his mother.   “I haven’t been able to get a job yet.  Having no job has its advantages though.  I have more time to devote to my blog.  When asked how many visitors he gets Jeremy said “I’ve never had anyone actually leave a comment on my site and when I check the weekly statistics it shows no visitors.  But that’s got to be wrong obviously.”

According to figures at the National Institutes of Health, blog obsession, or “Blosession” is a rising problem that has destroyed lives, marriages and careers.  According to a booklet published by the NIH there is no cure or hope.  Once someone gets “blosessed” they lose interest in social interaction, with the predictable denouement being a career in the Post Office or Department of Motor Vehicles.

Jeremy does seem to be the classic case of a blosessed male, providing the following examples:

“My mother is worried about me.  She keeps bringing prostitutes over so I can have experience with a woman but I tell her ‘Mom, please I’m blogging.’ “

“I used to hang out at this bar by me and sit by the jukebox  shouting ‘beep beep’ but the bartenders told me never to come back.  They thought I had turrets.”

“I used to volunteer at a prison.  These were tough characters…..rapists, murderers, pet murderers, pet rapists….but once they found out I had a blog they petitioned the warden to never have me back.”

Those who feel their loved ones may be falling into the same obessions as Jeremy are advised to contact the NIH immediately.

(237)

Many zombies face discrimination in America

It is like many small towns in America.  It has a main street.  Church steeples dominate the skyline.  But there is one difference.  This small town has an immigration problem.  The past few years has seen an influx of zombies; more specifically, flesh eating zombies just like you see in the movies.

“Zombies first starting coming here a couple years ago” says Lloyd Nolan, who owns a barber shop in town. “We didn’t mind it when there was only a few of them.  But now there’s so many. They’re loud.  They only come out at night.  They eat human flesh.  It makes me miss the Irish.”

For zombies the reasons for immigrating sound familiar to many Americans:  A desire to better their standard of living  and live in freedom.

Only many found the doors closed.  No zombies need apply signs sprouted up around town.  As is the case in many instances, the cultural traditions of the immigrants conflicted with the intolerance, insensitivity and “American Triumphalism” of long time residents.

“We zombies are just like everybody else.  Except we’re dead.  And cursed.  And we eat  human brains”  said one zombie.  “We just want to practice our traditions and live in peace.  Why do the Americans hate us? It’s gotten so bad we are afraid to venture out of our houses.  The other day some American tried to kill me.  Sure I was eating his wife’s brain.  But did he have to shoot at me?  We could have dialogued.  This never happened when we lived in France.”

According to Roger Feeney, lawyer for the ACLU,  the zombies desire to eat human brain is protected by the First Amendment.   “Clearly this is an expression of their religious identity.  They have a right to eat brain when ever, where ever and who ever’s brain they want.    But it shouldn’t surprise me that they are subject to violence.  I have come to expect intolerance from “Red State” Americans.

Signs have sprouted on lawns in town:  “America for Americans.  Zombies move to California.”

“While I am hopeful for a solution to this problem” says Feeney, “I have advised my zombie clients to move to a country that is more tolerant of differing religious traditions, such as Germany.”

But perhaps the most poignant comment is by one  zombie: “They hate us.  They won’t give us jobs.  They  won’t let us live in their neighborhoods.  They won’t let us marry their women.  You’d think we were Irish.”

(279)

In what has become a common occurrence a man walking with his children was startled when he witnessed spontaneous human combustion (SHC).

“I was just out for a stroll with my kid when – boom – the guy in front of me exploded into a pile of guts.  My son was covered in intestines.  He may never eat meatloaf again!”

Cases have risen dramatically in the past year with SHC passing having one’s eyes picked out by ravens as the leading cause of death in the northeast United States.  Experts have striven to find the cause and now it appears they have a common denominator.

“What links all recent victims of SHC is they have had computer trouble and placed calls to a local help desk center” according to Dr. John Robert, Head of Intensive Care at Memorial General Hospital.  “When doing autopsies we discovered remnants of laptops stuck in the anal tract.  At first we thought it was a college fad until we were able to talk to one  survivor of SHC who mentioned that he was having trouble plugging a PS2 mouse into his USB port and called the 800 number for assistance.  Instead of help, he was told to ‘shove it up his ass.’   Fortunately for him he had a Macbook which is rather thin and he passed it after a dinner of  linguini.  If he owned a ThinkPad he would have died.” 

Sociologists are aware of call center hostility and  believe there are several reason behind it.

According to sociologist Dr. Harold Schwietzer, author of the best seller “You’re okay but I feel like Clay Aiken”, “Help desk technicians do not make much money and are stuck in windowless rooms for 12 hour shifts with barely a bathroom break.   Plus many live in New Jersey which would of course compound self-esteem issues.”

With no cure for call center hostility people are advised that if they call an 800 number and are told to “shove it up their ass” they are to get independent verification that this course of action is correct.

“There are times when shoving a laptop into one’s anal tract is the right thing to do, such as when you are being transported to French Guiana to serve a life sentence or when you’ve just opened up a MySpace account.  But these are isolated examples.”

In the meantime, to increase chances of survival people owning laptops are advised to “Be Safe.  Be Smart. Eat Linguini.”

(264)

God addresses reporters

God announced today that, like many people, his identity was stolen.

“I was just stupid that’s what it is.  I wanted to take a vacation to the Bahamas so I booked a flight online.  It was going to be a father/son get together.  But when I got my bill there were charges on it that I knew did not belong to me.”

What happened to God is known as “identity theft.”  “Whenever you shop online you run a risk” according to Det. Frank Costello of the Web Crimes Division of the FBI.  “People think they are safe, but the moment you click ‘send’ your personal information is vulnerable to hackers.”

After receiving his latest credit card bill with the fraudulent charges, God contacted authorities. “God did the right thing.  He got in touch with us immediately.  This made it easier to track down the culprit.”

Police arrested Timothy Wayne, 18, of Valhalla, New York and charged him with credit card fraud.  Wayne apparently stole God’s information while hacking in his parents basement and used it to buy time on a pay per view porn site as well as fandango tickets and flowers for his girlfriend.

“Seriously dude, it was so easy.  His password was ‘heaven’.  I got that on my second try” Wayne told reporters while being fingerprinted.

Detective Costello offered the following tips to prevent further identity theft:

1. Try using a password that will be difficult to guess, such as a random combination of numbers and letters
2. Never use your name, birthday or address as a password.
3. Before shopping online make sure the site you are on is reputable and has sufficient safeguards in place.

Wayne’s trial is set to start in a couple weeks.  If convicted he could be sentenced to 3 1/2 years in jail.

As for God, he has harsh words for the alleged thief.  “I can’t forgive him.  He made my life a living hell.  It cost me time and money to get the charges reversed and now my inbox is spammed all the time with offers for viagra, enzyte and subscriptions for ‘busty beauties’ and something called ‘locker room reamings.’   I feel so violated.”

(170)

The first call to police came shortly after 9 AM: Reports of gunfire by the Capitol.  “We grabbed our guns and arrived at the scene within minutes” said Lt. Brian McGreevey of the Albany Police Department.  “What we saw astounded us.  Downtown was filled with men brandishing shotguns.  I was surrounded by grizzled old men who were drinking heavily. I thought it was U2.”

What the Lt. thought was U2 turned out to be a group of Azerbaijanis.   Joe Simpson, whose store was attacked by the mob stated that “they came in and kept yelling ‘where are the Albanians……where are the Albanians.’  I told them that this is Albany and we are all Albanians.  This made them even angrier and they fired off their guns into the air.”

The heavily outnumbered police watched as the gang of Azerbaijanis moved towards the Capitol Building, shooting their weapons and breaking storefronts.  Upon entering the Capitol they interrupted senate deliberations by shouting obscenities from the visitor’s gallery.  Witnesses in the gallery said that it appeared they were shouting either “Death to our Albanian enemies” or “We love Britney Spears” but couldn’t be certain because of the acoustics.

After disrupting the senate they moved to the Governor’s office.  Governor Paterson, who was in his office at the time, was quickly surrounded by the group.  Paterson who is legally blind said  “They felt grizzled and smelled drunk so I assumed it was U2.  I gave them the keys to the city.”

This was much to the Azerbaijanis liking who took Paterson upon their shoulders as they marched through the streets shouting “Our enemy has surrendered.”

After depositing the governor by a curbside the group went towards the SUNY campus where they reportedly “drank beer and insulted Albanian women” before getting on a bus and leaving the city  peacefully.

The whole incident has many scratching their heads but resolved to  end any and all disturbances by grizzled and drunk old men.

On a related note, two hours later U2 arrived in the city as part of their U.S. tour.  They were immediately arrested and thrown in jail.

(247)