This Is a Book
Page 13
“Bros before hos.” That’s what Rod used to say. He was loyal to his friends. But, at the same time, if he really wanted to nail a girl, he would find a way to make it happen, even if it meant taking her from one of his friends. That might sound weird or like a paradox or something. I guess it was. That was part of what made Rod interesting. He was unpredictable and mysterious. Ladies loved it. I can tell you that for a fact. Rod was a legend when it came to getting ladies to meet “Rod’s rod” as he called it.
Rod was such a funny guy. He was always quick with a joke or a punch to your nuts if you weren’t looking or if you dozed off or something. And if there happened to be someone around who had a weakness or some kind of an insecurity, Rod knew just how to focus right in on it and turn it into a good joke, especially if there was a bunch of us there to egg him on. And if that person got upset about it, Rod would just keep going at it until they learned to lighten up. That’s the kind of guy Rod was. He’d make you laugh but he’d also make you think. You’d think, “I hope he doesn’t do that to me.” And you always knew that if you turned it around on him he’d kick your ass. He was a true leader.
People always noticed Rod. Whether it was his cologne or the bass booming from his Hummer. Rod was the kind of guy you just could not ignore. He used to crank that thing up so loud that people in other cars would look over and shake their heads like “Man, I wish I had a system like that.”
A lot of people don’t know this, but Rod really knew how to have fun with a sunroof, probably better than anyone I ever knew. He would stand up in the open sunroof of a limo and scream out of it for blocks and blocks. He didn’t care. He made people on Spring break look like pussies. Rod was on permanent Spring break. For real. I mean, sometimes he would drink so much that he would just start punching anybody who came near him.
Rod also had a creative side. One look at his hair told you that. And if you tried to touch it, good luck with your broken fingers.
Rod would light up a room whenever he walked into it, literally, with a flashlight, when he was working as a bouncer. He used to shine set light onto girls’ butts or right at their tits. He made everyone feel like a star. Rod was the kind of guy you wanted to be like, because he was no nonsense. I remember one time when he wouldn’t let some little geek into the club after the geek kept saying “But my fiancée’s in there!” Rod finally belted the guy and shut him up right then and there. The policy was no geeky guys allowed in, period, and Rod honored it, because he was a professional. He was really dedicated to his job. Sometimes there would be a fight going on and Rod would just join in and pummel whoever looked weaker. And I mean pummel. Talk about professional.
Rod had a lot of honor. If someone bumped into his shoulder in a club or gave him attitude, he would not put up with that shit. You didn’t mess with his honor, because if you did you got a beat-down. Plain and simple. There aren’t a lot of people who stick to their principles like that nowadays. A lot of them pussy out or want to try to talk their way out of a situation. Not Rod. He was always man enough to let his fists do the talking. And they talked to anyone who needed to listen, including chicks who thought they could get away with their bullshit.
Nobody got off easy if they were messing with Rod’s honor, not even family. I remember when Rod’s brother accused him of taking money from their grandparents’ savings, Rod pounded him so bad he had to go to the hospital. “There’s a difference between ‘taking’ and ‘borrowing’ ” he said. Rod fully intended to pay back some of that money eventually. I know that for a fact, because he mentioned it so many times over the years.
I think what I’ll miss most about Rod is how awesome it was to go clubbing with him.
I’m sad Rod is gone, but I feel happy knowing that he died doing something he loved: an underage girl.
Flags
Flags have been an important part of our world for centuries. Unfortunately many of them are outdated. I have included here a few suggestions for updating some of these old flags. I have also provided some ideas for new flags.
FLAG FOR THE SOUTH
This flag features a man wearing a nice suit, holding a Bible and a waffle. He looks proud and is standing inside a trailer park.
THE OLYMPIC FLAG
A white flag that has the words “Nice try, Finland” printed across the middle of it.
THE CITY OF BOSTON
This flag features a picture of a drunk guy who wants to fight you. The more the wind flaps the flag, the more drunk the guy looks, and the more he wants to fight you. Also, he has a crew cut and looks sort of Irish.
FLAG REPRESENTING BLIND PEOPLE
Anything goes with this one. The important thing is that the design is not that offensive.
THE ARMY
A man in a uniform, who is shaking your hand, but it’s no longer attached to your body.
HARVARD UNIVERSITY
A picture of a person who went to Harvard. Under the picture there is an inscription of a Latin phrase: Vestri alma materia ut exsisto memoratus quam primum in sermo. The translation: “Your alma mater: to be mentioned as soon as possible in conversation.”
NEW JERSEY
A picture of the rest of the country feeling embarrassed.
MCDONALD’S
A cow wearing sunglasses. He is holding a hamburger and smoking a cigarette while giving a thumb’s-up. In the background there is some sort of propeller or chopping machine coming towards him.
FLAG FOR RESPONDING TO AN ENEMY WHO IS TRYING TO SURRENDER
This flag could be useful during battle when one side waves a white flag to surrender, but the other side wants to keep fighting. This flag is white but it also has a middle finger made out of blood in the center of it. When you wave this flag you’re responding to the surrender by saying, “Tough shit.”
MEXICO
A drawing of Mexico with arrows pointing out of it.
THE ANDERSON FAMILY (FROM MY OLD NEIGHBORHOOD)
The whole family is on the flag. The dad is kind of drunk, as usual. The mom has that WASPy angry-mixed-with-uppity look on her face. The daughter looks cute and seems like she’d be a good girlfriend but turns out to be a cheater. She’s acting like she loves you, but she just clearly made out with one of your friends. Off to the side we see their dog, who so easily blends in with the pavement that he could very easily be innocently run over by anyone.
Painted Faces
People Who Paint
Their Faces
1. Warriors
2. Clowns
3. Diehard Football Fans
4. Drag Queens
People Who
Lack Subtlety
1. Warriors
2. Clowns
3. Diehard Football Fans
4. Drag Queens
People Who I Do Not
Want to Be Around
1. Warriors
2. Clowns
3. Diehard Football Fans
4. Drag Queens
People Who Are
Probably Not Reading This
1. Warriors
2. Clowns
3. Diehard Football Fans
4. Drag Queens
Some Meanings
z z z z z z z z z z z z a person sleeping
b z z z z z z z z z z z a bee flying
z z z z z z b z z z z z a bee that is sleeping and then wakes up and starts flying
b z z z z z t a bee that is getting killed by a person who was sleeping but then woke up
_____
af;kjnabakjoiwenpt a cat walking on a keyboard
iamwhiskersbeware a smart cat walking on a keyboard
_____
n a half-eaten M&M
m two half-eaten M&M’s carefully placed together
##%@&%*#$!& cursing
########%@&% cursing, with a stutter
_____
haha a person laughing
muahahahaha a villain laughing
ha a person starting to sneeze
muaha a villain starting
to sneeze
ahamuahahaha a villain discovering a person who is starting to sneeze; and then laughing
_____
xoxoxoxo kisses and hugs
oxoxoxox oxen
xxxxxxxx a very dirty movie
oooooooo a sound heard during a very dirty movie
oooxoxox a sound heard during a very dirty movie in which someone kisses and hugs oxen
_____
( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( nail clippings (of an anal-retentive man)
I self
i self as baby
i i i i i i i i i ii i i i i self as baby in nursery (with set of Siamese twins in there, too)
_____
U U prints made by a horse standing on its hind legs
U o prints made by a horse that has a wooden leg standing on its hind legs
o o prints made by a horse with two wooden legs (impressive)
_____
· an atom (close up)
· a galaxy (far away)
· an atom, close up, in a galaxy far away
_____
T the beginning of THE END
D the end of THE END
Goreburg and Spatz
Arthur Goreburg arrived at Zell Laboratories three days after graduating from MIT. He had fielded offers from every major lab and think tank in the country. There was even an offer from a small but prestigious concentrate tank in Sweden. For Arthur, though, there was never any doubt that he would end up at Zell.
Zell Labs had been the nation’s leading research and technology lab for more than half a century, producing nine Nobel Laureates, countless technological breakthroughs, and very little sex. Its hallways teemed with many of the world’s greatest minds, many of them bona fide geniuses, and even more of them social disasters. Goreburg would be Zell’s new wonderboy. And with his formidable brain, pimpled face, and catastrophic sense of style, Arthur fit the part perfectly.
Until Arthur’s arrival, Zell’s reigning wonderboy was Ronald Spatz. Now two years into his employ at Zell, Spatz had earned a reputation for calculating large sums in his head at lightning speed. He was also one of Zell’s biggest showoffs (he once solved a Rubik’s Cube using only his butt cheeks). Like many of his colleagues, Ronald was a know-it-all. And he had a notoriously small bladder. Still, Ronald was a great dancer and could be a lot of fun at a party, if he’d ever gone to one.
Goreburg and Spatz did not speak much to each other during Goreburg’s first few months at Zell. In the lab’s stratified, cloistered ecosystem of elite thinkers, the two young scientists were natural enemies. Each was eager to prove himself, and neither wanted the other to do so first.
Spatz was aldy getting tired of hearing about the “new kid” Goreburg, and Goreburg, for his part, thought Spatz had a particularly punchable-looking face. So, the two young bucks tactfully avoided each other and managed to keep a cordial distance.
Then one afternoon, just after the company’s annual laser picnic, where for the first time in years no one got burned or blinded, the director of commercial engineering, Bill Dingle, called the two young scientists into his office.
“I need you two to work on something very important for us,” said Dingle in his patented monotone voice (it had been patented earlier that year for use in an autistic robot).
Goreburg and Spatz listened, both trying not to appear too excited about the opportunity.
Dingle continued. “It’s a copy machine.”
The two men slouched with disappointment, their already muscle-less frames looking even more flaccid than usual. “A copy machine?” thought Goreburg. “What a joke.”
Spatz let out a contemptuous sigh.
Sensing their disappointment, Bill quickly explained the assignment. “I am not talking about a conventional copy machine. I’m talking about something much more advanced, a new kind of copy machine. We need to create a machine that can copy something but make the copy look like it’s a completely different idea from the original. So that way the copy appears to be the result of ‘parallel thought’ or just some sort of an innocent coincidence.”
Arthur and Ronald listened. Both men now seemed interested.
“People in Hollywood have expressed strong interest in such a device, especially the large movie studios,” Dingle explained.
Goreburg started brainstorming immediately, his beady eyes darting back and forth behind his glasses. Spatz, equally intrigued by the task, started to rock with excitement, and also because he had to pee.
Dingle explained that two major advertising agencies had already offered millions for a working model. He and his partners knew that that kind of machine would be virtually priceless to the advertising industry, an industry that had been built on stealing other people’s ideas and then changing them slightly to make shitty commercials out of them.
The two rivals left Dingle’s office. They began working together the next morning.
If Goreburg and Spatz could figure out how to make this new kind of copy machine, it would mean huge profits for Zell, and more importantly, major recognition for the two young scientists.
From the very start, Goreburg and Spatz hated working together. They were competitive and distant. Arthur was a slob, which irked the legendarily anal-retentive Spatz. And Ronald irritated Arthur with his weird tapping habit. But, the more they worked together, the more they discovered just how much they had in common. For one thing, both were allergic to legumes. Also, as children, both had been rolled down a hill inside a tire by neighborhood bullies, which was for both of them a memorable first lesson in physics. Fise he ha, and, perhaps most importantly, both spent a lot of time alone making things in their basements.
Spatz had developed several minor inventions, most notable among them a tiny nuclear bomb that could be used to kill a frog or a very old person. He hoped to market it overseas, perhaps to some of the smaller nations who had smaller enemies. He had also done pioneering research in the field of historical biochemistry, recreating chemical models of famous historical figures’ breath based on their diets and ethnic origins.
Goreburg, in his basement, had designed several specialty vehicles, including a hovercraft ‘made from a vacuum cleaner’ and a vacuum cleaner ‘made from a hovercraft.’
After work they started to hang out and talk about their favorite movies and about the woman who worked at Zell. Their opinions about both were based firmly in science fiction. Before long, Arthur and Ronald were collaborating outside of work. One night, while they were hovering in Arthur’s vacuum cleaner, they started to talk about time travel.
They both knew that there had been various attempts to build time machines at the lab before. No one had succeeded. A few years earlier it looked like one scientist came close—he had managed to jump into the future by a couple of minutes, but later it turned out that he had just passed out in his machine. Another scientist managed to send himself backwards through time but only metabolically—he sent his body back to puberty, which had terrible repercussions on his marriage.
They knew that a time machine presented difficult questions: “If time travel were possible, wouldn’t it have always been possible?” and “Isn’t there a paradox in existing in a time before you existed?” and “How could you eat something twice?” They agreed to leave these questions aside and let their work lead them wherever it led them.
Working late every night after work, they tried various things. One step forward, two steps back, and then one to the right.
Finally, they had a breakthrough. Using a collection of old watches, a network of satellite servers, and some uranium, they managed to make a small machine. What they needed in order to make the machine work was a tear in the time-space continuum. Luckily, Goreburg had discovered one just above the liquor store on the edge of town. If his calculations were correct, then the machine could pass through the tear and enable them to travel backwards through time.
They put the finishing touches on the machine and decided to launch it after work that Friday. They
rented a moving truck, loaded the time machine inside it, and drove to the liquor store, where they parked next to the wormhole. Just after the night clerk closed the liquor store and drove away, they wheeled out the time machine. Over dinner they had agreed to make the first trip something that would create good press and age well for posterity. So, they strapped themselves in and set out for July 4, 1776, to see the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
There was a whir and a boom. The machine filled with smoke and everything got blurry. There were some flashes of light and then a kaleidoscope of colors. A moment later, everything stopped and the machine was silent. Both men were dazed, but perfectly fine. The smoke started to clear and Spatz unbuckled his seatbelt. He got up and lo out the window. “I think it worked!” he shouted.
Goreburg was stunned. He had never been so happy in his life. He unhinged his seatbelt and ran to the window. Outside, people in Colonial attire walked around. Some cautiously approached the machine. This was real. They had done it.
Arthur turned the doorknob and pushed the door. Nothing happened. He pushed harder. The door would not open. “It’s jammed,” he said. Ronald looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the door won’t open.”
“Let me check the external camera,” Spatz said as he walked over to a small console. He typed into a keyboard and looked at the screen.
“Uh-oh,” he said quietly.
“What?” responded Goreburg, still trying to open the door.