Tales of a 4th grade dictator

Tales of a 4th grade dictator
In a very beige and boxy, boxed in box of a classroom as Mrs. Chopinhower scratched, scrawled and scraped her chalkboard dirge entitled “SPELLING LESSONS” Lester Speigal’s boredom began to set him adrift in a different time, a different place. The 4th grade seemed an eternity ago and the events that took place seemed in a different lifetime. He wondered about Fredrick Sellers too. Lester, at the ripe age of nine had a firm grasp on the concept and the use of dramatic effect. Most grown-ups could no longer perceive the glacial movement of time that occurs in eight months, especially when a summer vacation is lodged somewhere in between. Most nine year olds do not think about glaciers. Most nine year olds were never ministers of “propuhgandah” either. Most nine year olds are terrible spellers. “And now class, spell the word….” Mrs. Chopinhower prattled on, as teachers whose glasses require a chain to hold them around their necks are wont to do. Lester kept right on daydreaming, ignoring Mrs. Chopinhower’s endless nonsense. “When will she stop? When is lunch? This is so boring! Of course I can spell yacht it’s spelled Y-A-T! Gah!” Of course, that is how nine year olds who are terrible spellers, spell yacht.
Lester didn’t exactly remember the day Fredrick Sellers joined his 4th grade class. He just remembered him, kind of, just being there one day. Ms. Suvlaki’s class was also very boring and Lester had been daydreaming when her announcement “Class. Meet Fredrick Sellers. He comes to us from New Jersey” received little fanfare. Ms. Suvlaki asked Fredrick to show the class where New Jersey was on the map. He placed it somewhere between Ohio and West Virginia, much to her chagrin. With that, Fredrick disappeared amongst the other twenty-five other students. Fredrick was small for a boy his age. People who are in 4th grade tend to be rather small anyway, but if small 4thgrade kids consider a boy“small” then you know he’s small. That was Fredrick Sellers of New Jersey. Having close-set black eyes, a perfectly bowl shaped head of brown hair and the fashion sense of salesman did nothing to aid in sidestepping the awkward and cold reception of his peers. When a boy named "Lester," of all names in the world for a boy to have (his parents hated him), has deigned another boy to be of such low social standing so as to ignore him altogether you can be sure that boy is a bona fide pariah. It's like a plebeian calling the proletariat untouchable. A person in 4th grade would never ever say something like that. That is until Fredrick Sellers came to class.............

Spice Odyssey: Exploring the Burning Tongues of Saturn.: Curry for Sure-y? OMG that's a bad pun.

Spice Odyssey: Exploring the Burning Tongues of Saturn.: Curry for Sure-y? OMG that's a bad pun.

The Last Supper (which I will attend and attempt to split a bill)

An innocent dinner party of 10 people becomes a nightmare when the bill arrives. There aren't enough calculators or accountants in the world to figure out why the bill keeps coming up $100 short even though everyone claims they put in their fair share.

Tales of a 5th grade dictator

Frederick Sellers is a quiet, withdrawn, intelligent  and rather misunderstood 5th grader. He attends a suburban public school of little significance. Frederick has a broad imagination and bores easily. He soon develops delusions of grandeur as he begins reading his fathers exhaustive research notes on Fascist Dictator Benito Mussolini for his doctoral dissertation. Frederick doesn't quite grasp the cruel and oppressive regime ruled Italy in the 30's but he sure does like Mussolini's outfits and shiny medals. Frederick soon plots to overthrow the school. He soon gains followers with flowery Mussolini-esque speeches written in the voice of a precocious 5th grader. His homemade uniforms and a name change to Il Federico doesn't hurt either.

Working on it.

WELCOME

I'm sorry, I'm away from my desk right now. I am out doing follow-ups for stories that go nowhere. Please feel free to leave a message here and I will get back to you as soon as possible. If you need any questions answered immediately my secretary Eliza will be more than happy to assist you. You may reach her @

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Thank You, have a pleasant day.

-Bugbear

Gerrymander

----Title: gerrymander


Notes 2. Dog feeds average man jokes. (Research Old 40s/50s stand up comics and their jokes.) -Matthew Na Sal 3/2/09 11:37 PM

a. Man becomes overnight success

b. Dog stops feeding jokes

c. Man loses comsedy "gift"

1. Man is sad.

2. Dogs being emotionally sensitive animals notice sadness.

3. Dog wants to help cheer up master. Writes jokes just to make him happy.

4. Man tells jokes in social situations. People respond. His confidence grows.

5. Dog, oblivious to the complexities of Mans desires and lust for power and fame keeps writing jokes to make him simply happy.

6. Man eventually in convinced he can work this into an act and he is overnight success. His happiness grows along with his checking account and fame.

7. At mans peak of fame his happiness is peaking also.

8. Dog senses that his job of making man happy has worked. He has no need to continue writing jokes. Just doing regular dog things.

9. Man can't continue his act. No new material. Being labeled as a one hit wonder. Backlash of fans at same old jokes etc.

10. Man is becoming more and more depressed as he loses everything because he didn't use his 15 minutes of fame wisely. Instead he thought it would last forever.

11. Man hits rock bottom very quickly.

12. Dog senses this. One night when man is about to end it all, Dog leaves him a joke. Man laughs to himself and puts the gun down ands says "I'm back baby!" 

(Setting: Home: Non-descript city.

Apartment is a perfect square in every way. Only contains generic items.

Time is the present although ambiguous because things like electronics look old.

(Research Old 40s/50s stand up comics and their jokes.) -Matthew Na Sal 3/2/09 11:37 PM

Narrative? Gerald is a below average man. Below average height and intelligence. Above average in weight though.  

Camera moves slowly from across a dark room. Tight focus on red digital clock digits. 5:58, 5:59 and the alarm rings. "Below average alarm time" 

A song blares from the radio. A very drab soft rock song "And below average musical taste" 

A light goes up and we see Gerald slowly and unenthusiastically reaches to turn it off.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes

Gerald: "Good morning Ralph" 

Ralph, his dog whimpers and it is revealed that he sleeps in the bed with his master. Ralph simply stretches to take Gerald's place on the bed and resumes snoring. 

Cut to a steamy shower and behind an opaque shower door we see a bulky Gerald masturbating in the shower. 

Narrator: "Gerald has a below average sperm count."

Cut to a montage of very typical and mundane things, camera should hold on these activities a bit too long. Such as, buttering toast (crumbs in butter) making Sanka coffee, riding public transportation where he sees a cute girl he thinks is smiling at him, but of course there is a man just behind him that is the object of her intentions. Just as he awkwardly waves. A man politely but firmly pushes him aside to get to the girl. 

Man: "excuse me" 

The couple shares a laugh together. 

Gerald feels a little embarrassed. He is snickered at by other passengers. He puts on his iPod to isolate himself from everyone. He is listening to some powerful 80's metal such as Def Leppard. He imagines himself on stage in full spandex. Rocking, He misses his stop. Oblivious.

Late to work. Again. Tries to sneak in. Coworker B, takes notice. Emails the boss to advise him of Geralds tardiness. 

Cut to work. Office: The office is a drab, boxy place, very harsh exposed flouresant lites. Chairs with no backs (work in that the manager feels that chair backs promotes laziness.) An Old style fan - (Gerald Doing a Robot voice at some point?)

There are characters in the office which he interacts with:

Man A: Alpha male. Handsome. Cocky, Arrogant. Ignores Gerald or teases him. Gerald seeks his approval.

Man B: He is a brown noser. The boss's lackey. Always trying to make himself look better. Always telling gerald how he should improve his work and his life. Outperforms Gerald. Calls attention to this.

Boss: He is harsh task master always yelling at everyone, fast talking. Horrible Suits. Plays favorites with everyone but our hero.

Girl 1. She is in sales. She is very clever, beautiful, she knows this. She plays with mens affections. She teases Gerald. He dreams of her (include humorous dream sequences of them wearing ugly sweaters in summer with shorts?) (Use Yello song from Ferris Beuller when she makes her appearance, which is a slo mo shot of her operating the copy machine in a seductive manner) 

Girl 2. She is mousey, secretary. very quiet. We barely hear from her, she sort of fades into shots. She secretly likes Gerald. He is too caught up with girl A and trying to fit in to notice. (her entrance is her spilling coffee on gerald)

Gerald sneaks into the office late again. As he is scanning the office for his boss, he is not paying attention and he runs into Girl 2. she spills her coffee on Gerald. She quickly exits, no one notices. You get the feeling she was a ghost. 

As he trys to clean himself off.

Boss: Gerald. You're late. Again. I won't abide it! Look at Hastings(Man b), he's been here since 7. His shift starts at 9. 

Gerald averts his eyes.

Gerald: Sorry, sir. It won't happen again.

Hastings: Actually Gerald, you were 18 minutes late on tuesday.

Gerald: I don't think I was. I don't rememb...... (cut off)

Hastings: I've just forwarded you the email I sent Mr. Simms last Tuesday.

Mr. Simms: Nice work Hastings. Soild job. Gerald, try to be a little more like hastings will you.

Just then the door bursts open and in slo mo we watch enter one of the most perfect specimens of male machismo confidence ever. It is Dale. He is 45 minutes late. 

Mr Simms: Dale! Not you too. 

Dale: Mr Simms! You know how it is. Twins, Mr. Simms It takes them twice as long to leave in the morning. What can you do?

Mr Simms Laughing, walks to his office

Gerald is amazed at the spectacle that is Dale:

Dale: Gerald, what the fuck are you looking at? You lookin' to fuck me too? Doesn't surprise me.

Sarah (object of Geralds Affection) Laughs (at gerald, but it may seem as tho she's laughing at the joke) 

Others in the office in ear shot, chuckle at him

Gerald: No, no Dale. Ha-ha. (Gerald isn't really that amused, more emarassed. But he looks up to Dale, wants to be like him) Always joking Dale. 

Good ol' Dean

I've just invited my old roomate and chum to join the book club! His name is Dean and he lives in Portland, rides trains, is a funny cat and to my knowledge he's angrier than I am. When we were roomates he worked at this burger joint that made like the best cheeseburgers ever. He only had to work like four or five hours a day and he got food too. He made like $5.00 an hour which totally killed the $4.35 an hour I was making slinging coffee at 6am.  Our aparment was a 2 bedroom 1 and 1/2 bath which went for $525 a month. We crammed like four dudes into it so rent was cheap and the beer was cheaper.

Idea: Archeology

Archeologist at a dig. Unearths strata from about 300 million years ago. Finds remains of human civilization. The civilization seems to be as advanced and basically just like ours. Many of the artifacts are easily recognizable.

Alternating this story with the stroy of an everyday man in some day to day corporate job. It seems very prosaic. As we go through the day to day we discover certain things are just off. Certain names for things, expressions etc. The further into his story the more things become un recognizable to us.

That is the story of the civilization 300 million years ago.

I would imagine every Arceologist asks themseklves "what must a day in these peoples lives have been like?"

Maul of Flounders

Pretty In Pink - The Answer

It's taken me 20 years, and in all honesty most of the waking hours of my life to answer this question. Oh, and then there was that small stint at a Wat in Southern Laos for a year or two (Time, she did fly.), but I'd venture a guess that I only really spent half my time there actually pondering much of anything. You see, I was given the task of keeping the village's Water Buffalo "rice paddy ready" as they liked to call it. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why the hell I had to keep up to thirty, usually very angry, Water Buffalo
coiffed and manicured all the time? Especially once I found out what a rice paddy actually was. As I look back I think those monks were just hazing the new guy and maybe after like six months or so they didn't have the heart to tell me. But I digress. To answer the question. Yes, she is pretty in pink.

Notes for the Starla and James book

1: Must research beer making for James. (James wants to start his own brewery)

2: Starla's parents make the overture to James on the wedding day to go to Madagascar and work at the family factory. Starla is a bit surprised because she never expected them to ask because he's not Chinese.

3: James is surprised she never told him about the family tradition. Neither of them are sure that they want to be apart for a year.

4: James thinks it might be interesting once he finds out that within that 1 year he'll make enough to start his brewery. Starla thinks it might be ok because her parents don't have much confidence in James. They asked him and if he turns it down it would only cement their beliefs that he's not a good fit for their daughter and not ready to be a member of the family.

5: How do they spend their last days/

6: She can't visit him while he's gone. The males think their wives distract them while working.

7: Research Madagascar

8: Come up with at least 4 different humorous diversions for James to get into when in Madagascar.

9: Need good email exchanges between him and Starla.

Kinda weird story idea.

It's about a man whose sperm are genetically coded for food not babies. The women he impregnates give birth to food. Ready to eat. Does he form a cottage industry?

Carb-omb

Carb-omb

I've never known a world where the sky was pink like cake and the clouds were brown like chocolate. So, I made that happen. I used spray paint to do it, brown and pink paint to be exact. That's way cheaper than hiring an astronomer to find such a planet, not to mention what spaceship gas costs these days to get there. On planets that have cake skies and chocolate clouds it tends to rain pastries in the morning and cookies at night. I'm not really a morning person, but I like pastries (a bunch) so I thought that if I were to visit this planet, I might not get see so many pastries because I'd probably be asleep when it would be raining pastries. So I went to Hong Kong, where they have pastries made of squishy stuff at super cheap prices and I bought a deluge worth. I applied them with glue and my best scientific guess as to how pastry-based rain would look falling from chocolate clouds in a pink cake sky. The doily is the only piece of artistic license involved, the rest being hard science of course. Raining doilies would be ridiculous. It just doesn't happen.

Matthew Na Sal

The Squid Broach (Etsy)

So you have an Octopus BRO-ch and you're saying to yourself "Damn, this is BRO-ch is super awesome! I'm getting so many ladies right now and that job interview, yeah I fucking nailed that shit!" That's pretty rad, you're living the dream. But, then this god damn squid BRO-ch comes up out of nowhere and you're like "Yo, squid!" and the squid pretty much disses you to your face. You're obviously not ready for a squid. Seriously, a squid gets more done in a day than you do in like two weeks. If you asked the squid what he did that day he'd say something like "Psssh, what time is it 3 pm? Oh I don't know I pretty much free dove down to like 30,000 feet and then bitch slapped some Sperm Whales cause I felt like it." Then you'd try to tell him about the boring ass day you had at your office and he'd be like "Naw bro! That's really super boring." Then he'd spit some ink all over your khakis and be out of there. Basically you're never going to be as rad or free spirited as a squid is because they're really rad and free spirited. But if you had this awesome BRO-ch it'd be like when you're hanging out with a dude who is cool. It's not like you're actually any cooler, but you're getting a lot of the cooler dudes leftover ladies. That's what it's like wearing the Squid BRO-ch. It's like you get to know what it's like to be awesome. Speaking of awesome, this squid has a totally "metal" clasp that will keep him on securely affixed to your shirt when you're getting into bar brawls. I've also added some bad ass pink spots that will hypnotize the ladies. After they are hypnotized, that's your business. Also, you'll notice that the quality of the photos are basically way shitty, but if you think that then you're way wrong because you're not "artsy". The proper phrasing that adequately describes the quality of the images is "lo-fi." That's because squid aren't mainstream sell outs to corporate photography. Squid are way hipster. 

Good Morning

With a grin I faced the east, laughed with the sun.

The Girl Who Could Float

The Girl Who Could Float.

Her name was Effine and it seemed several sunrises had passed my notice 

since she had left. The sheets had scarcely settled back into place, and she 

was gone. People who know how to look can divine many things from a bedsheet 

and how it comes to rest. That morning I awoke bleary, jumble eyed, and 

breath jam thickened to her vapors and her hair across my face. That was my 

goodbye, it always was.

With the stars in her ears and the moon rolled between fingers she made 

passage beyond northern shores. Effine liked to steal away on Russian 

frieighters that navigated by gumdrop mythology and chalk dust.