McSweeney's

SUMMER SAFETY TIPS: HOW TO AVOID A LION ATTACK.

2008-07-03T00:00:00Z

BY KATE HAHN

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Do not goad a lion, even in summer's informal atmosphere. Do not call a lion "Lionel" or "Mr. Richie," or start singing "Hello." He has heard the joke before.

A lion does not care that it has margarita salt or blood on its upper lip. Do not point it out.

It is well established that drowning deaths increase in summer, but a little known fact is that 25 percent of these fatalities happen when humans sunbathe too close to lion watering holes and are nudged into the drink by thirsty cats. Steer clear of ponds with picked-clean water-buffalo skeletons nearby.

Although warmer months invite romantic flings and may have put you in the habit of making more eye contact than usual, avoid going iris to iris with a lion. This is interpreted as human flirtation. Lions are extremely socially conservative, and see the mixing of species as against natural law.

Even after a few beers at a clambake, do not be tempted into political debate with a lion. When cornered, they will simply smite you with a sepsis-tinged claw.

Do not limbo in the presence of lions. Your exposed belly will make you seem weak.

Never come between a lion and its cubs, at the pool or anywhere else. This includes giving unsolicited parenting advice. "Are those cubs really old enough to be left by themselves in that clump of rushes while you're out hunting zebra all night?" is the sort of statement that can result in your instant death.

At a kill or a Fourth of July buffet, let the lion get its fill before you step in.

If you encounter a lion in a hotel-resort elevator, keep silent. No matter how nervous you are, do not make small talk. Smallness reminds a lion of its traditional prey. The smaller your talk, the more vulnerable you seem. Discuss the weather and you might as well be a Thomson's gazelle.

At the beach, do not be too old, too young, or too sickly, and, especially, do not stray too far from the herd. The lion's favorite target is the iconoclast.

If you return to your time-share and find a lion sleeping in your assigned parking spot, do not disturb it. It will depart by nightfall.

Do you see a lion waiting at the bottom of a water-park slide? Do not use the slide.

Even in the convivial atmosphere of a sophisticated international vacation destination, do not try to speak "lion." Roars and grumbles are part of a complicated tonal language, and your efforts may result in unintended insults.

If your name is Hemingway, do not have it embroidered on your beach towel.

When riding with a lion in a water-ski boat, do not ask "Do you know the MGM lion?" or "What's up, Aslan?" More than anything, lions despise celebrities and anthropomorphized sellouts. This, combined with the fact that you are making small talk, will cause the lion to devour you on the spot.

If, after a few wine spritzers on Labor Day weekend, a lion calls itself a big "pussy," do not think it is confessing to being a wimp. Lions have reclaimed the term, much as the gay community has reclaimed "queer" or feminists "bitch." Make no mistake: "pussy" means killer.

PLAYING BALDERDASH WITH EX-GIRLFRIENDS.

2008-07-02T00:00:00Z

BY MICHAEL NELSON PRICE

- - - -

(Asterisk indicates word's actual definition.)

- - - -

MIKE'S WORD

Compunctious

(1) Compunctious—the mood between two people who have nothing in common, and never did, and really just pretended to in order to spare one of the person's feelings.

(2) Compunctious*—feeling or expressing regret for one's sins or misdeeds.

(3) Compunctious—incapability of experiencing regret, or empathy, or caring for another individual in any nonsexual way, and the childlike attempt to cover this emotional wasteland with superficial charm.

(4) Compunctious—a man who goes out of his way to afflict the woman in his life with misery, possibly by sleeping with said woman's best friends. All of them. Like he had some kind of a list or something.

(5) Compunctious—having a penis of below-average size.

KAELEE'S WORD

Frangible

(1) Frangible—a patently absurd lie about someone's physical appearance or anatomy, particularly one that is communicated to people who all know the truth of the matter.

(2) Frangible—an apology, or an attempt to apologize, that has been offered far too late to be effective, and, in point of fact, just pisses people off.

(3) Frangible*—capable of being destroyed or broken; easily broken.

(4) Frangible—a palpable feeling of anger, one that could manifest itself in violence and destruction targeted toward inanimate objects, individuals, or possibly one specific overly smug individual.

(5) Frangible—having a penis of below-average size.

BETH'S WORD

Pestiferous

(1) Pestiferous—the quality of maybe not being below average, but sure as hell not being above average, either.

(2) Pestiferous—a person thinking they're hip, but whose dress and manner is, in reality, the subject of a huge joke that no one has ever let this person in on. Being of the opinion that one can buy vintage clothing at Old Navy.

(3) Pestiferous—a boy who is capable of being incredibly charming and smart and fun to be around only for very limited periods of time, something you don't realize until you've already wasted too much of your life.

(4) Pestiferous—the feeling that something you thought was a good idea may not be such a good idea, but now that you've started there's really no good way to stop. Ironically, applicable to both past relationships and to board games.

(5) Pestiferous*—having or bringing about disease, moral harm, or annoyance.

KACEY'S WORD

Nebbish

(1) Nebbish*—a weak-willed, timid, and cowardly person.

(2) Nebbish—maybe not even about size, maybe just more about general sexual inadequacy.

(3) Nebbish—the act of sleeping with a boyfriend's brother and then saving that information until it can be released at a time calculated to be the most embarrassing/satisfying.

(4) Nebbish—hating someone so much that you feel like you can hurt them just by staring at them while your definition is being read.

(5) Nebbish—a cathartic orgy involving three to five people who have shared at least one sexual partner in the past who is now very compunctious of any past mistakes.

KIMBERLY'S WORD

Chimerical

(1) Chimerical*—very unrealistic; wildly fanciful.

(2) Chimerical—wanting someone you tricked yourself into thinking you loved at one point to suffer both physical and emotional pain. But really more physical. Physical and immediate.

(3) Chimerical—complete and utter astonishment felt when someone you didn't think could lose any more of your respect manages to do so.

(4) Chimerical—a cathartic orgy involving three to five people who have shared at least one sexual partner in the past who is now very compunctious of any past mistakes, and also is not pestiferous at all.

(5) Chimerical—you're such an unbelievable ass.

A COPYEDITOR AT A BUSINESS JOURNAL REFLECTS ON A BREAKUP.

2008-07-01T00:00:00Z

BY ALLISON MORROW

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First-quarter reports released this week show that Allison's reading activity more than doubled, to 47 percent of daily life, spurred by significant losses in the spooning and kissing sectors. Meanwhile, sexual activity plunged 98 percent, falling from record highs during the previous quarter's thriving joint venture.

Market participants say they suspected the partnership would sour after New Year's, but that the initial merger seemed an ideal prospect. A housemate familiar with the dissolution said both sides are expected to bounce back, but hopes the recovery speeds up so he can reclaim the couch and the TV remote.

"I just think taking a class or picking up a new hobby would help shore up some dignity at this point," said Rick, an analyst on the second floor. "And a vibrator might be a good idea, too."

Shares of crying and sleeping each saw new records in mid-February amid news of a premenstrual-syndrome-driven weight gain and a spike in bitter sentiment around the 14th.

Experts say eating and exercise trends have been leveling out steadily since March, but warn that the dignity sector remains shaky, and the turbulence could ripple outward, potentially stalling the highly anticipated Let's Date Other People venture.

Wine consumption has held steady, despite overall market turmoil, spiking in January, and again last Wednesday and Friday, but dropping off Sunday amid occupational pressures. Observers are wary of labeling the situation a recession.

"It's really a bullish trend we're seeing here," a co-worker said, probably referring to something in the actual economy.

As the downturn shows signs of ending, trading in social-networking bonds is on the rise. Phone calls, e-mails, and Facebook-gawking saw healthy, if slightly compulsive, activity near the end of the quarter.

A source close to the matter said it was time to move on, but would like to emphasize, for the last time—this means you, Kate—that, no, I don't want to join Match.com.

A SUBURBAN MOTHER TELLS HER 14-YEAR-OLD BABYSITTER HOW TO MAKE HER PARTIES MORE RAGING.

2008-06-30T00:00:00Z

BY WENDI AARONS

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Guest List

Everyone knows that a successful party starts with a great guest list. It should be diverse. Eclectic. A mix of people from all walks of life. I know you're fond of those pasty losers from the Robotics Club, Ashlee, but trust me: shotgunning cases of Mountain Dew and reprogramming the neighborhood's garage doors does not a wild teenage rager make. Instead, reach out a little and ask the mean girls. The freaks. The skanks. The playas, the hatas, the skaters, and possibly even a divorced math teacher or two. Don't worry if you don't know them, because no teenager will ever turn down a party invitation. Even when it comes from someone in the gifted-and-talented program.

Party Planning

As anyone who's ever watched the WB knows, the best time to throw a killer "par-tay" is when your parents are out of town. Or at least farther away than across the street playing Jenga at the Wilson's. I mean, honestly, Ashlee. If you want to be a rebel, think like a rebel. Did Amy Winehouse ever ask her mother's permission before snorting lines off the nightstand? So wait until your parents go on their anniversary trip. Or to the church retreat. Or, better yet, wait until your grandma breaks her other hip, the poor thing. Then simply lock up the pets, throw open your front door, and get ready to get your house party on, y'all.

Invitations

Per proper etiquette, invites should be sent no later than four weeks before an event. However, since most of your guests can't even remember to close their mouths while chewing, it's probably best to wait until the last possible moment to spread the word. Besides, as any insurance adjuster could tell you, teenagers thrive on spontaneity. The day of the shindig, simply text your guests with the message "Party at Ashlee's!" or "PAA!" or "STWPAPBYJ!" or any other of those ridiculous little codes you all seem to prefer over proper English grammar. Or just save yourself the trouble and tell Janice Hopkin's daughter you're having a party. Lord knows that girl's got a mouth on her.

Being a Good Hostess

The beauty of an unsupervised teenage party is that it basically runs itself. After your guests arrive, simply show them which bushes you'd like them to puke in and where your mother keeps the funnels. That's pretty much it. Just be aware that, though a gracious host always knows when a party should end, in your case that determination will probably be made by either your neighbors or local law enforcement. So, if your guests are forced to leave before they can thank you, don't worry about it. After all, nothing says "A good time was had by all" more than a pack of red-eyed burnouts running down the street screaming "Narc!"

Entertainment

Teenage girls love parties with great music because it gives them an excuse to dance on tables and take off their tops. (Which is also something teenage boys enjoy.) So put together a playlist of songs that contain loads of "mad bass." Hip-hop, rap, metal, trance, or anything else that sounds like a toddler stuck in a coffee can should work. Then, once the party's under way, crank up your tunes loud enough to wake every sleeping baby on the block. And, if you find that your sound system isn't up to task, just ask that weird pizza-delivery guy for help. My husband says that jerk's got more speakers in his piece-of-shit Sentra than Best Buy.

After Party

Though there's nothing more fun than a house full of unchecked hormones, the day after the party can, unfortunately, be kind of a drag. Nobody likes spending half a day spraying their entire house with Lysol and steam-cleaning the love seat. However, during the two weeks you'll be grounded without mercy, take comfort in all the new "hits" on your Facebook.com and know that it was all worth it just to become slightly more popular this year.

- - - -

So that's it, Ashlee. I think you're well on your way to throwing the crazy teenage party of your dreams. And, though a responsible mother of two certainly shouldn't tell you that your party would be even better with lots of underage drinking, be sure to let me know if you're free to babysit this New Year's Eve. I might just happen to know where there's an unattended beer refrigerator.

THE MIDDLE EAST PEACE PROCESS, AS MODERATED BY MY SPIN INSTRUCTOR.

2008-06-27T00:00:00Z

BY PAUL A. ITA

- - - -

To the tune of
"Life Is a Highway"
by Tom Cochrane.

Happy Saturday, everyone! I'm so glad you're here!

Remember, you are here for you. Not for me, not for the person across the bargaining table, not for anyone else in the conference room.

This time is for you and you alone!

We'll begin with some simple negotiations to warm up our bargaining muscles.

Life is a highway, and every highway has a road map. So let's all take out our road maps.

To the tune of
"Hot Blooded"
by Foreigner.

Now we're entering some rolling hills. We're beginning to work a little harder now, getting our heart rates elevated.

You should be bargaining at a 6 or 7 out of 10. If you are bargaining at a 4 or a 5, pick up the pace. If you are bargaining harder than that, back off a little bit. You don't want to injure yourself or bonk out early.

Let's see who's ready to do some work. Is anyone out there ready to work?

How about we start with an effective cease-fire? Has anyone got an effective cease-fire for me? Israel Defense Forces? Yes! Hamas? Yes! Fatah? PLO?

Now we're working!

To the tune of
"The Final Countdown"
by Europe.

OK, folks, we're approaching a wicked big hill, and we're going to be doing our hardest bargaining for the next 4 minutes and 54 seconds. You should be bargaining at a 9 or even a 10 if you can. You should be giving everything you've got during this climb.

This is your time to work. Let's get those thorny issues out on the table!

Israel, how about it? Can we talk about ceasing settlement expansions? Work it! Can we talk about refugees‚ right of return? Work it!

Palestinian Authority, I see you sweating! Can we accept Israel's right to exist? Can we accept existing Jewish settlements in disputed territories? Push it! I want to see you giving 110 percent!

Islamic Jihad is working it! Who else is working it? Oh, I see you, Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine! Who else? I didn't forget about you, Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine! And I see Fatah and I see Hamas! Great work, guys! So how about it? Can we talk about an end to the intifada and a renunciation of armed resistance?

I can see the crest of the hill up ahead! Get up, get up, get your butts out of those saddles and push to the top! Don't give up now. We're almost there!

To the tune of
"The Best"
by Tina Turner.

Now we're headed for the finish line. We're headed home.

The hard work is done. It's time to relax a little and enjoy the ride.

Feel the wind in your hair, feel the sun on your face.

You bargained hard today.

Give yourselves a hand. You deserve it.

And please don't forget to wipe down the equipment when you're done.

A PRESS CONFERENCE ANNOUNCING MY LEAVING MY GIRLFRIEND EARLY TO DECLARE FOR THE NBA DRAFT.

2008-06-26T00:00:00Z

BY ERIC WIENER

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Good morning. Thank you for coming. I'm humbled to sit here before you today. This has been an extremely difficult decision, but it's with a heavy heart that I announce my intention to forgo my remaining 66 years of relationship eligibility to enter my name into the 2008 NBA draft.

All the support I've received from you—from granting me full veto power over DVD rentals to the late-night b.j.'s—has made my decision that much tougher. Not to mention this season's controversial new no-condom dress code. But after weighing my options—particularly that of returning for another year of dating you—I can honestly say that I've gotten everything out of you that I possibly could, and you have nothing left to offer me.

My plan is to finish the semester dating you, before leaving to focus on preparing for the draft. This isn't something I'm doing for the ridiculous fame or the millions of dollars, or the endorsement smorgasbord, or the never-ending sexual buffet. This isn't about me at all. I am simply achieving a dream I've had since I was a little kid—the dream of playing in the NBA. I've worked hard for the chance to go to the next level, and I'm looking forward to facing the challenge of partners and teammates who will match my physical maturity.

To be honest, the only reason I spent this past season with you was because of the mandatory one-year policy. A year is an unbearably long time to make somebody wait for what they want, and, now that it's over, it's only right for me to leave you. My sole regret is the STD I may have given you. But our relationship has been a great experience for me and has truly helped prepare me for this next step in my life.

I'm relieved this decision is behind me and that we can move on. With all the great prospects coming in and the hype surrounding you, if you can build some chemistry with the new guys, you should have no trouble rebounding when I'm gone.

Finally, I want you to know that I've promised my mom I'll come back here and finish what I've started. She was the one who convinced me to commit to you in the first place, and I'm doing this for the both of us. So, during the off-season, I'll put in however many hours I'm required to complete with you. I intend to be the first person in my family to keep such a promise. Plus, it's a win-win, because I obviously need a fallback plan for when my career is over.

ALCOHOLICS EPONYMOUS.

2008-06-25T00:00:00Z

BY JIMMY CHEN

- - - -

MODERATOR: Thank you all for being here. I know this is very difficult. The first step is admitting that you have an addiction—I'd like to congratulate each one of you for doing that. Now let's go around the circle and introduce ourselves.

JACK DANIEL: Hi, I'm Jack.

ALL: Hi, Jack.

JIM BEAM: Hijack, my ass. I just got off the damn plane.

MODERATOR: Mr. Beam, please wait your turn—and we don't swear in our circle of trust.

JIM BEAM: (Silence.)

MODERATOR: That's better. I know you're a little strung out from last night. Hang in there, OK? Sir, how about you?

RÉMY MARTIN: Bonjour, je m'appelle Rémy Martin.

MODERATOR: Now, Rémy, I know you speak English.

RÉMY MARTIN: (Sigh.) Hi, I'm Rémy. You know, I try to throw in a little class and immediately get shut down.

JIM BEAM: Hey, froufrou, this is America—we're not impressed with that Frenchie stuff. That shit wouldn't pass in Kentucky, boy. Speak English.

RÉMY MARTIN: Vous me faites pitié.

JIM BEAM: English, boy.

RÉMY MARTIN: Vous me donnez la nausée. Ma bouche va littéralement s'ouvrir et mon dernier repas se déversera dans ce monde.

JIM BEAM: If you speak French one more time, I'll—

RÉMY MARTIN: Mm!

MODERATOR: Oh, dear.

JIM BEAM: English!

JOSE CUERVO: Inglés!

MODERATOR: Please.

RÉMY MARTIN: Voudriez-vous que je couvre votre tête de foie gras?

GREY GOOSE: Honk!!!

JOSE CUERVO: ¡Sacad este pajaro de aqui, se esta cagando por todos lados!

JOHNNIE WALKER: I think the goose is concerned about the foie gras.

GREY GOOSE: (Flapping its wings wildly.) Honk! Honk! Honk! Honk! Honk! Honk!

JACK DANIEL: Jesus Christ.

MODERATOR: Plea—

GREY GOOSE: (Flying around the room.) Honk! Honk! Honk! Honk! Honk! Honk!

(Moderator faints in the middle of the circle.)

ALL: (Silence.)

JOHNNIE WALKER: It is peculiar how the inebriated soul honks for attention. Look at what we have done to this poor lady; she even ripped her pants. Oh, I have seen many things in my days: the sullen look of a jaded 14-year-old lover, a brick of peat moss buttered in the final notes of a summer sunset, an oak barrel swollen with solemn unsung years ... oh, so many things. I brave to tread the path less traveled, twirl my cane amidst the havoc and chaos of modernity. We, suspended in this age of excess, brine our livers in nectared poison with self-delusional love and irrevocable loneliness, for true love—the kind that shines so bright its white rays burst your retinas—is but a lost notion quivering toward the past.

ALL: (Silence.)

GREY GOOSE: My bad.

2008-06-24T00:00:00Z

M c S W E E N E Y ' S   P R E S E N T S :
A L L   K N O W N   M E T A L   B A N D S .

BY DAN NELSON

- - - -

This is a collection of the names of over 50,000 metal bands. Presuming that these bands had, on average, four members each, and multiplying that by the number of bands, one might figure that roughly a fifth of a million humans have pledged allegiance to one of them at some point in his or her lifetime. To celebrate the release of the book, we've posted the Q section below. Click here for the other 25 letters. Today the book is $5 off.

- - - -

Q.W.A.N.
Q5
Qabr
Qhafir
Qhwertt
Qliphoth
Qliphoth
Qojau
Qoph
Qrujhuk
Q-Squad
QÜ
Quadrivium
Quadruple
Quadryss
Quaet Gespuys
Quake
Quandary
Quandary
Quantum
Quaoar
Quark 7
QuarterBurn
Quartz
Quasar
Quasi Modo
Quasimodo
Quasy Modo
Queef Huffer
Queen Absinthia
Queen Adreena
Queen Bitch
Queen Evil
Queen of the Elves Land
Queensrÿche
Queer Circle
Quehanna
Queiles
Queiron
Quejidos Del Seol
Quel Che Resta Della Cresta
Quell
Quelonio
Quemar
Quercus
Querimonia
Querubes
Ques Ans
Quest
Quest
Quest
Quest
Quest Haven
Quest of Aidance
Questionmark
Question-Mark
Questions
Questor
Quick Change
Quick Fix
Quicksand
Quicksand Dream
Quiema
Quiet Absence
Quiet Outcry
Quiet Riot
Quietflower
Quietus
Quietus
Quietus
Quijote
Quill-pen
Quilmess
Quilter's Bane
Quimera
Quimera
Quinta Essentia
Quintessence
Quintessence
Quintessence
Quintessence of Flesh
Quintessence of Hate
Quintessenza
Quisling
Quix
Qumran
Quo Vadis
Quo Vadis
Quod Demonstratum Est
Quorthon
Quoth the Raven
Quötta Pas
Qwestion

NEW BOWLING ANIMATIONS.

2008-06-23T00:00:00Z

BY SEAN ADAMS

- - - -

A bowling ball sits in a cubicle. His bowling-pin boss comes over, looks at his work, tears it up, and yells at him. Having finished for the day, the bowling ball goes to the parking garage, only to find that two bowling pins are trying to break into his car. They smash one of his taillights before running away. The bowling ball gets pulled over on his way home by a bowling-pin cop. The bowling ball says he was going the speed limit, but the bowling-pin cop says he didn't pull him over for speeding. He pulled him over for having a taillight out. The bowling-pin cop says that usually he just warns drivers with a taillight out, but since he doesn't like the bowling ball's attitude he's going to give him a ticket. When the bowling ball finally gets home, he finds his bowling-pin wife having sex with one of his bowling-pin co-workers. They're both dressed in leather. The bowling-pin wife stops for a minute to tell her husband that she doesn't love him anymore. Then she and the bowling-pin co-worker start back up again with the bowling ball still in the room. The bowling ball's eyes fill with tears. GUTTER BALL!

- - - -

A lifeboat of bowling pins floats on the Arctic Ocean. It's been three days since they lost their Navy ship and several comrades to the enemy bowling-ball captain. Starving to death, they draw straws to see who will be eaten so that the rest may survive. The short straw goes to a young private bowing pin. His eyes filling with tears, he wonders why God has forsaken him, why he had to follow in his father's footsteps and join the Navy. He wishes he could have been his own man and done what he wanted to do: culinary school. A sparkle in the distance interrupts his thoughts. The bowling pins shout and light flares to get the approaching vessel's attention. They realize their mistake too late. The bowling-ball captain plows through the lifeboat with his battleship. The bowling pins who are not drowned or torn apart by the ferocious engine freeze to death in under an hour. SPARE!

- - - -

A bowling-ball kid sits in a chair in an open room. To his right, his bowling-pin mother. To his left, his bowling-pin father. They each look at him with pleading faces. A bowling-pin lawyer hands the bowling-ball kid a clipboard with a piece of paper on it and then leaves the room. The paper reads: "Who I want to have custody of me. Check only one box." There is a box for Mom and a box for Dad. The bowling-ball kid looks at the paper for a long time. He begins to sweat. Then he has a panic attack. SPLIT!

- - - -

Two gangs of bowling pins are meeting in an abandoned warehouse. One gang has a briefcase full of money and the other gang has a briefcase full of heroin. They are about to make the trade when a maverick bowling-ball policeman crashes through one of the windows. The bowling-pin gangs scatter, shooting AK-47s at the bowling-ball policeman, but, with a quick spray from his pistol, he kills all but one of the bowling pins. The one he didn't kill escapes out the door. The bowling ball chases him outside. The warehouse turns out to be on top of a snowcapped mountain. The bowling pin grabs a snowboard and starts down. The bowling ball grabs his own snowboard and follows suit. They exchange fire on their way down. The bowling ball is closing in on the bowling pin when suddenly: an avalanche! All is a haze. The snow settles. Everything is still for a moment. Then the bowling ball and bowling pin rise from the snow and begin fistfighting. The bowling pin knocks down the bowling ball, takes out a gun, and shoots the bowling ball in the chest. The bowling pin begins to walk away, exhausted, when a gunshot rings out. The pin falls to the ground dead. The bowling ball sits up behind him holding a tiny revolver. He takes off his shirt and his bulletproof vest and, examining the bruise, walks off into the sunset. STRIKE!

KRAZY KRIS.

2008-06-20T00:00:00Z

BY MIKE SACKS

- - - -

January 1

ME: Listen, can't we talk about this some other time?

JEN: Some other time when? Our finances are a disaster! If we don't take care of this situation now, we're going to have to take out a second mortgage. So when do you plan—

KRAZY KRIS: Did someone say mortgage? That reminds me of a joke. What did the man say to the—

JEN: Who in the hell is this?

ME: That's Krazy Kris! I hired him to provide comic relief! You know, for our relationship! For our lives!

JEN: Where did he come from?

ME: A special agency. For couples who are a little down. Anyway, look! He's taking off his shirt! He's popping his ample stomach in and out! Isn't this fantastic? Honey? Yes?

JEN: How is he supporting himself? What exactly are you paying him?

ME: Our 401(k). Relax, it's worth it.

JEN: Now he's performing somersaults on our living-room floor.

ME: This guy can do anything. Isn't he amazing?

March 3

JEN: I really don't know what to do about my mother. We should talk about assisted care versus independent care—

KRAZY KRIS: Look at me, everybody! I'm making balloon animals!

JEN: For the love of ... He has to make an appearance every time we have a fight? How does he even know when to come over?

ME: I have him paged.

JEN: He's now playing a tuba and marching in step ... I can't hear myself think!

ME: Louder! Louder!

March 15

JEN: Are you aware that Krazy Kris is standing at the edge of our bed?

ME: I figured we needed to lighten things up a bit in the bedroom. Mind?

JEN: What's that standing next to him?

ME: What does it look like? It's a miniature donkey! Krazy Kris rented it for the night. Isn't it adorable!

JEN: We haven't made love in months!

ME: It's the perfect remedy to take our minds off our problem! Kris, make the donkey bray! Do it!

April 4

KRAZY KRIS: Anyone up for some spin-art fun? Hey, where's your wife?

ME: At her brother's in Bethesda—she just moved out.

KRAZY KRIS: That's terrible. I'm sorry.

ME: It had absolutely nothing to do with you. Entertain me, Krazy ... I need it now more than ever.

KRAZY KRIS: Bunny hop! Grab on tight, folks! We're goin' for a ride!

May 27

KRAZY KRIS: Seen the TV remote?

ME: Aren't you going to amuse me?

KRAZY KRIS: How much can I amuse you already? Four hours isn't enough?

ME: When you first got here, you'd amuse me all day. How about a somersault?

KRAZY KRIS: With the day I've been having, no thank you. I don't know, maybe tomorrow?

Yesterday

KRAZY KRIS: I think my troubles first started in college. Women could never relate to me as anything more than a friend. Always the funny guy, you know?

ME: God, you're a bore. What's the matter with you lately?

KRAZY KRIS: I guess even clowns have their off months. Sue me. Life ain't all about the gags. Pass the remote.

Today

KRAZY KRIS: Seen the heating pad? My back is on fire. Oh, I'm in such a mood!

ME: Krazy Kris, I think we need to talk.

KRAZY KRIS: About what? And, by the way, my real name's Christopher.

ME: I miss the juggling, the spontaneity, the animal tricks. It's not like it used to be.

KRAZY KRIS: Welcome to life, big man.

ME: All I'm saying is that we need to have a little chat.

KRAZY KRIS: Ha! Give me a break! Who are you—my father? Here we go again! Pick, pick, pick! Like a goddamn crow!

ME: Well, I am paying your rent! And your food! So, yes, maybe I am your father!

KRAZY KRIS: Shut up!

ME: Excuse me? Who are you to talk to me like that? Who—

MR. PICKLES: Put your hands in the air! Put your hands in the air like you just don't care!

KRAZY KRIS: Who in the hell is this? And why is he wearing a gigantic rainbow wig and playing the ukulele?

MR. PICKLES: They call me Mr. Pickles! C'mon, everybody! Dance! Dance! Dance your problems away!