Foreverkens

new release

Solve for X

MALCOLM X

X=JAMAL WERNER:

MALCOLM X = MALCOLM JAMAL WARNER


MALCOLM X

X=IN THE MIDDLE

MALCOLM X = MALCOLM IN THE MIDDLE


MALCOLM X

X=MCDOWELL

MALCOLM X = MALCOLM MCDOWELL

Yellow Journalism

Fictitious Business Name (Doing Business As) "MIAMI ADVICE"

Philip Michael Thomas has filed for a DBA (Doing Business As) for his services of talent scout and agent in the greater Dade County area under the Fictitious Business Name of "Miami Advice". Previously Mr. Thomas sold jacuzzi's, baths and large containing units under the business name "Tubbs Tubs". He is an investor in Miami Vice co-star Donald Johnson's line of cooking products known as "Crocketts Crock Pots and More". Philip Michael Thomas is best known for playing the role of "Jesse" in the 1978 film "Death Drug".

SS Sultana Shreds

Back in -1865 BC, the SS Sultana decided to try something new, for a boat. Something different. "Let's see what's BELOW the water," it implied, through direct wording. "Let's find out."

Portholes were cut into the bottom of the boat, but glass, as it so often finds the time in it's "busy" schedule to do, interfered.

"Fuck you, glass," said the boat.

"Your place or mine?" said the glass.

"Burn!" said the water.

"Burn?" said the boat... "Idea!"

"What do you want?" said Idea.

"I've got an idea," said the boat, ignoring that drunken idiot Idea.

Idea went back below deck with his ceramic jug stamped with 11 X's followed by a few T's, which were crossed out emphatically by further X's. "I've gotta get some more X's on this jug," he muttered to himself.

"You sure you don't want to give it some more T's, you drunk?" asked glass. Boat laughed. Good job, glass.

Water didn't understand.

On April 27, 1865, the SS Sultana, with the assistance of Robert Louden's coal torpedo, suffered an explosion and went diving down into the rancid river. Immediately, the boat regretted it's decision. The 2400 passengers on board did as well, trying their hardest not to drown in the disgusting waters of the Mississippi. "On my headstone," announced one man, through a final splay of bubbles floating up to the murky surface, "please leave my location of drowning blank. Or perhaps a question mark. Or perhaps the mighty Amazon, where the Brazilian female soccer team is rumoured to bathe. Oh dear, asphyxia..."

Around 1600 victims were victimized that day, while around 800 survivors are thought to have survived. The boat wrote a book about what it saw under the water, but it is so boring that no publisher has been willing to release it.

Kitty Glitter

This exists!

Happy Anniversary Foreverkins

It's been one year girl. I bet you knew this day would come...isn't that right?

Now, let's relax and get you out of those clothes. You must be tired.

Let's put on some music to calm those nerves, such sensual nerves you have.

I Love You - Vanilla Ice

Yeah, that's right, this song is my tribute to you. Those there, well, those are rose petals on the bed, and yes, I am wearing really strong cologne - it's all for you, girl! You know you like it.

Happy Anniversary!

Saint Patrick's Day Segues

So, it's Saint Patricks Day everyone (you), Ireland's national holiday. There are probably hoards of people celebrating as we speak. Speaking of Ireland, what happened to U2? Are they still around? I haven't listened to a new U2 song in a long time. If I found myself listening to a new U2 song, I bet I wouldn't like it, but I'd enjoy not liking it because it would affirm my prediction of not liking it, and I would have won a bet with myself. Speaking of bets, has anyone here (you) been to Las Vegas recently? Wow, what a great place, eh? I mean, where else in the desert would you want to be than a no-holds barred cluster fuck of degrading indulgence and tawdry architecture? I mean, it's the first thing that comes to mind when imagining the hot desert, right. Speaking of cluster fucks, can you people believe the state of affairs in D.C.? Actually, I (you) probably shouldn't get into politics here because of my (your) short temper when it comes to arguing. Hey, speaking of temperatures, how's the temperature where you are? It's nice in San Francisco today, with a chance of kindness tomorrow. OH, ZING! Speaking of zings, I have not been there, but their website plays some sultry-ass music - "after dark". Apparently, their trademark tag-line is "Our food is like sex in your mouth", which means a variety of things to different people, which is why they went out of business just now as you were reading this.

Speaking of reading, I have some stories, let me tell you: Once upon a time... j/k! Let's get real: Deep in outerspace, there lived a bi/curious space-wizard named Stewart who, through space-alchemy, controlled the... yeah, right, his name would not be Stewart - Good job!

Speaking of Stewart, I like Star Trek, especially Jean-Luc Pacard (aka Patrick Stewart). He knows how to take a botched intergalactic massacre and turn it into casual, quality television.

Now that we are back to Patrick, have a happy Saint Patrick's Day.

New Product: Foreversink!

We are proud to announce the arrival of our first, fresh, brand-newest product, the Foreversink! This fine specimen of household, kitchen, bathroom, shed, darkroom, laundryroom-ware is brought to you exclusively by us hardworking folk here at Foreverkins, and Science.

The foreversink can do it all: introduce water, both hot and cold, drain water, and its great in the bedroom. It can also hold objects within it's confines. It can be used as a paperweight; but we recommend drying it first... you don't want to get Uncle Tiffany's last will and testament wet! What would Judge Cyndi Lauper say at the wake when you try to collect on his thousands? Not very nice words, I'm guessing. Probably a lecture about the process paper undergoes from it's creation in a cocoon (goodbye wood mulch!) to it's final resting place in a trash can fire (hello warm hobos!). While the lecture would provide a lot of useful information regarding a product you use on a daily basis and completely take for granted, you could be spending that time spending Uncle Tiffany's thousands on a whale watching tour off Girls Gone Wild Island, in the Gulf of Mexico.

The foreversink will literally last forever, as will the engraved message "tell your friend or friends or mailman about foreverkins.blogspot.com today!". This will remind you that English is the one and only true language.

Good washings!

==Dashers Dashers==

January 5, 1974, scientists in Antarctica report that the warmest day in Antarctican history has been achieved with a Fahrenheit measurement of 59 degrees symbol. In Celcius, 59 would be a very warm day by American standards ("The Only Standards or We'll Spill Yer Tea!") and about average for the Death Valley July 4th festival and hot dog cookout, just don't fire off your fireworks you fun havers.

Upon discovery of this warm day, the scientists shimmied out of their scientist clothes and held open their arms to the still very quiet sun, scientist bodies bared for all to see. Then, the wine. One scientist declared proudly, "Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?"

But one scientist watched from indoors with a big crappy frown on that small scientific face. He knew what this meant: Global Warming. "Just you wait," he said quietly, ominously, camera zoomed in, pull out, zoom away... He watched, whispering "just you wait," until one of the scientists, in for more wine glasses, noticed him and said, "One peanut butter sandwiches, Ah Ah Ah!!"

Who Knew?

I did not think that this blog would be so neglected as time went on, but I think it might be the nature of most blogs, destined to die out and live only in the annals of history. Hopefully FOREVERKINS had the chance to make it to at least one annal of history - that of awesomeness.

For the three of us writers, we've been away enjoying the fruits of lives filled with other distracting joys, which include reading other blogs, updating our facebook accounts with meaningless jabber, working on things we don't care about, watching bloodsport, avoiding cleaning, table tennis, listening to midi's, and other things. Good for you that you don't plan on reading this blog, and, in fact, you are not even doing so now. You are just going from image to image and this is understandable.

In history, much has happened that has not happened, but we will get to that later when we have the time to remember to get back to figuring out what did happen so we can write about what didn't happen. In this oath lies the truth of our journey.

That's right: WE ARE HIGHLANDERS - All of us! You figured it out, and therefore get a merit badge!

"There will only be one", as they say, as I say, and I'm pretty sure that will be me since I'm the only one smart enough to wear turtlenecks with titanium-bracing, ensuring my head stays where I want it. It's also super stylish!

Anyways, hope all is well. Stay in touch!

XOXO,
100%

Wiiiiiiii!

Today is the 120th birthday of Nintendo, a company founded in 1889 by a couple of down in the dumps plumber brothers. When Mario, the older but shorter and more round brother, lost his girlfriend during a drinking binge, he decided to get her back. He ate a mushroom for protein and set out, punching bricks and stomping bugs and small animals along the way. His younger (but taller) brother Luigi came running behind, trying to prevent Mario from causing any damage that would put the brothers in the poorhouse. Mario punched a brick, and when it burst open there was a gold coin inside. He showed this to a local merchant, who offered to trade it for a golden star. Mario ate the golden star and felt invincible. He started running around like a maniac, humming songs without lyrics, until he finally collapsed and died from the star that he had eaten.

Luigi dedicated the company in his honor. Since there were no TVs or video games back then, Luigi sat in his basement and invented them. Today, Luigi is 157 years old.

A funny thing happened on the way to lazy...

Howdy cadets! Today is September 22, 2009, which means that it is the first day of fall and the last day of wearing a snorkel and swim shorts to class. This is also the day, 3 years ago, that the nation of bleach-safe colors decided to retire the F-14 Tomcat, a fine jet plane whose wings tucked in towards the body and whose die-cast metal version tasted very metallic.

The F-14's retirement, like most, occurred 3 days before retirement in a bloody shoot out with the Colombians that drove our angered hero to get out there and keep the plot moving, shirtless and shining.

The F-14's retirement, like most, was spurred by its decision to stop trying to compete with a newer TomKat, one formed by the combination of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes (whose wings tuck in towards their bodies, and whose die-cast version taste very metallic).

Speaking of laziness, what's the deal, right us? I think it's time for internet blog boot camp for the likes of Dylan, Aaron, and I, amiright?

Today is another day

Posts have been rare because we've been busy. You love the suspense, I know.

Emerson did laundry and house chores, Dylan ate two whole subway footlong sandwiches in one sitting, and I sat in my apartment looking out the window a lot. When I say busy, I mean busy!

Today is Sept. 15, 2009, which means I turned 28 nine days ago. That's all the wonderful history you get for today!

Here's a song I've enjoyed for a while:

Stuh-Stuh-Stuh-Stutter

In the summer of 2009 I decided to develop a stutter. I surprised my mom with it first, unveiling it in the very first text message I ever sent her ("i fee-fee-fee-feel like chi-chi-chi-chicken tonight, li-li-li-"), and then performing it through an entire dinner that she spent clenching her teeth tightly and scraping her fork against her plate. When I was washing the dishes later I saw that she had scraped the words "idiot son" into her plate. Success!

A few days later I sent my boss an email asking for a private meeting. He replied with "anytime" and so I marched over, closed the door behind me, and sat down. "What can i do for you?" he asked politely. "Weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-well..." I began, and smiled to show relief when I finally got the word out. He smiled nervously back. "Weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-well, suh-suh-suh-sir..." I continued, and again paused to smile with false relief. "I be-beh-beh-believe that I ha-ha-have been do-dooooo-do-dooooo..."

"Doing?" my boss offered. I smiled. I opened my mouth to start again, and he stopped me. "What do you want? A raise? You have been doing a good job. A raise it is. Yes, a raise. Three percent?"

"Weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-weh..." I started.

"Five percent!" he said, and he looked at the door to his office with a look that said "escape is so close, yet so far away..."

I smiled, then concentrated: "Weh-weh-weh-weh..."

"Ten percent!" he shouted gleefully, and here he jumped up, shook my hand, mumbled something about coffee and clients and meetings, and ran out of his office. Success!

Read more about my stuttered adventures this fall when my self-help book, "Stutter Your Way to Success" is released. It's sure to be a real home run!

Damn Straight

You never know who's going to get you in the dark, when no one is looking but the moon and the trees and the earth below. It could be the devil, or it could be Pete Rose. It could be a little cat with long arms or a ghost with low self-esteem. All could be silent at this moment, but all will not be still. Take heed knowing that I know your name and your story, or don't.

On this day in history - August 18 - someone, somewhere, was abducted by aliens or Pete Rose. No one knows for sure, except Pete Rose. It is sad to think that someone is sitting in a basement (alien or Pete Rosian) without hope. By pointing this out, I've assuredly informed a necessary fear we all must have when walking alone at night.

Don't think it can't happen? It will happen, every August 18th, forever. When Pete Rose dies, the aliens will take over, and when the aliens die, Pete Rose's ghost will start it up. This is no laughing matter. I mean, I am kind of laughing, but I shouldn't be. I'm actually laughing at something unrelated. Back on track, I could be next for all I know; Next in line to lose it all! Hey, don't say I didn't warn you. You're all going to die one day. Might as well not think that day is far away. Might as well embrace the ghost of Pete Rose, the living, breathing Pete Rose and the intention of an anthropomorphic alien that wants to abduct you.

Sleep!

If sleep was a video game it would be broken down into difficulty settings which would be given clever names to demonstrate the user's skill level who would be able to accomplish sleep at that skill level. The first would be easy: "Captain Catnaps". At this setting the user is given a soft bed in a dark room in a quiet neighborhood. The air would be mild, and the user would be given adequate time to leak the lizard before setting down. As the round progresses, slight things might occur in an attempt to stir the sleeper, but nothing too major.

The next level of difficulty would be medium: "Sergeant Snores". Here, the room isn't as dark, cars pass occasionally, and the air is just a little bit too warm. Sometimes through the night a pet dog might come in, investigate the sleeper, then leave. A neighbors TV can be heard quietly through the wall. Navigate your way to victory, sleeper!

The hard level would be "Rip Van Winkle". Here, the user is required to sleep in a room with a buzzing neon sign shining in to a room too hot while roommates watch and cheer sports and randomly come in and out of the front door, slamming it each time, shaking the whole house each time, calling to each other from one side of the house to the other to bring more beer, then maybe engage in noise contests. Occasionally a round of karaoke might break out. The sleeper does not have access to any weapons.

Cheat mode would be called "Ambien". Using cheats, sleeper can unlock a difficulty mode that maybe .01% of participants will be able to beat: "Coma".

What difficulty level do you sleep at?

Internet Magic

Sometimes the internet is like a giant Easter Egg Hunt. Not in that romanticized way that you see on TV when they show that White House version with little girls in white dresses on well manicured lawns finding brightly colored eggs, I'm talking about the kind normal kids have. You know the type, running about the dirtiest corners of your backyard trying to find grey-brown splotchy eggs that you made the night before trying to create a rainbow by dipping the egg into all the colors. The greatest discovery you make is usually nothing to do with Easter. It may be an old toy, a rusted piece of silverware, dried animal scat, or maybe even one of last years eggs and an odor that 16 years of huffing metallic paint won't chase away the memory of. Sometimes though, you find a lost treasure, something long forgotten and magical. Well, today I asked the internet for an image of a Sloe Gin Fizz cocktail, and it gave me this :

All Quiet on the Western Front

August 4th, 1993: A federal judge sentences LAPD officers Stacey Koon and Laurence Powell to 30 months in prison for violating motorist Rodney King's civil rights, a decision which doesn't upset anybody very much.