Dearly beloved, we are here to bid farewell to our good friend.

Brian’s tiny sweaty balls.

To those that knew him best, knew him as a tiny man with even tinier sweaty balls. Those that knew him least generally assumed so.

His balls were Brian’s best fiends, and yet his greatest enemy. Advice from his father could not quell their sweaty spirit. Nor could the extra strength powder the doctor gave him.

Needless to say, we have much to be thankful for as we have grown up in the same era as a tiny, but giant, pair of balls. They were on a constant quest of vengeance against the forces of good hygiene. Without fear or reluctance, they siphoned their most bravest emotions into their daily work, fueled not by passion but of pure rage.

And so Brian’s tiny sweaty balls set about conquering the world. They may have been forcibly removed by an accidental gunshot wound borne of a fight over whether non-plastic straws were either a great choice in life or a grave injustice, worthy of a duel one would make as a 19th century drunkard – which you promptly and immediately lose. That part isn’t important.

The important thing is we will never have to hear about Brian’s tiny sweaty balls. They have departed this mortal plane and now rest in tiny ball heaven. May their tiny balls find tiny pieces of sweaty peace.

Amen.

Sincerely,

Brian’s big ass taint

If I ever win at anything, you’ll know. You’ll understand and you’ll know. You’ll say – that guy won. He’s a winner. I am absolutely a winner beyond words. You will grasp the importance of me winning.

There will never be another champion of skee ball in Atlantic City like me. Tell your fuckin kids to stay in college – they’ll never reach the heights I’ve achieved in such a short amount of time.

I have no regrets, I say as I request to be buried under the boardwalk after dying of skee ball addiction.

Human beings have no idea when it be, but when it be, it do.

That’s a shit phrase dude. Wasted potential.

I think it’s a shit phrase because it’s often a lot of shit people saying it. Now I’m not saying I ever heard it, but if I did you can damn well bet I’d have challenged them to a fight outside the dairy queen near route 541. That much is certain.

Stop worrying about other people’s potential. You got enough to worry about on your own.

You know what the scariest thing in the world is? Having a penis that actively tries to bite you.

Hey! Hey! Did you see the news! Yo! Hey! Did you see the news!

Guess what? I did! I see the news every day. I used to make the news! I’d write it, I’d make it, I’d distribute it! The news!

You know what show about the news is great that made the news? The Newsroom. It’s so newsy and great and fantastic and it’s all about the news?

Get this – a character walks in, they say “I’ve got the news,” and everyone stops writing at their desks. Silently, they observe as the news holder walks across the room to talk to Jeff Daniels. “You’ve got the news?” Jeff Daniels asks. “Are you sure it’s news?”

“Yes,” The character responds tearfully. “It’s the news and we need to deliver it now.”

Everyone in the newsroom on the Newsroom knows all about the news, so they all naturally begin furiously typing and writing and phone calling and snorting cocaine and masturbating – just like real newspeople do every day.

In another scene, the news guy walks up to the news girl and asks her – “Hey, did you see the news from  yesterday?”

She doesn’t respond. She turns away. This is all part of a setup for the third season where it turns out she can’t read.

It’s absolutely fucking brilliant and all I’m doing is watching the Newsroom. That wonderful news music, all about the news, and how the news is news and newly reported on news. I absolutely fucking love to inject my taint with the news. I take random pieces of news and shove them into my massive, wide open asshole, lovingly adorned with a tattoo of Aaron Sorkin. Few people can say they love the news as much as I do.

I just bought the entire 14-season collection of Newsroom on laserdisc. You can’t contain my love for the Newsroom. They see things happen and retroactively pretend they made the right decisions about the news. How can you not like that? The news is the news, after all.

Sir? Have you heard about the news? The news is here. Sir? I have news to report while flying on this passenger jet to Laguardia. Osama Bin Laden is dead sir. We’re 40,000 feet above the ground and you’re a military man, sir, and I have news you’d like to know. Sir. Osama Bin Laden is dead, sir. You had a vested interest in that news, more than anyone else on this plane, including the daughter of a guy that died on 9/11. The news has been delivered sir.

They tearfully embrace.

Then he sucks his dick.

Everyone claps.

The news.

Many people grapple with what they want to be in life their whole lives. I’m privileged enough to have always known I wanted to be a writer. Write what? Who knows. I loved books. I loved reading. I felt the best way I could communicate was via written words.

At a young age I found myself drawn to the interplay of words and how much their use varied from person to person. I discovered books by guys like Tolkien, Herbert, Melvill, Dickins, and plenty of young stuff like those Paulsen survival novels.

I read em all and you know what? The reason I wanted to write?

Not a single one of these books had any mention of Judas Priest.

I remember saying to myself, in my one bedroom apartment, here in Nashville. No mention of Judas Priest. I have to write new books that mention them to rectify this. This is my goal.

I cried for weeks.

I mean look, not really, but still. Is there such a thing as a musician who couldn’t get laid? Just by sheer virtue of knowing how to play an instrument, you can pretty forge a way forward just like – oh yeah, see this guitar? Yeah I play a little guitar.

They say I’m a idiot because I said I’d be the finest kazoo player east Iowa has ever seen. What they didn’t expect is that I, in fact, reached that goal.

Your hate only feeds my desire to be strong.

You are nothing to my kazoo.

Suck my dick.

There are moments in our lives where we find ourselves at crossroads. Our paths may do twists and turns and loop through and cross over every which way, but there are plenty of points where you are presented with a chance to influence the immensely small amount of time and space we occupy on this planet. Life is a serious of choices. And you must understand – going with the comedy option is a surefire way to have great things happen.

Picture this scenario. You are in the fourth grade. The kid in front of you isn’t your best friend, but you’re still friends in school, you make each other laugh. It’s all good shit. You notice he is standing and trying to get the teacher’s attention. You notice that he hasn’t noticed that he has pushed his chair back farther than he thinks, as he’s trying to feel for it. You notice that he doesn’t notice that you noticed. He is oblivious to the crossroad you face. He cannot fathom where your road may take you.

What do you do? Do you warn him? Do you say, yo, Donnell, you about to catch a mother fucking L dude lmao? Do you kick it back to him and right into his ass? No. Not good enough. Do you let it all play out? You could. But how would that be funny.

In this scenario, I opted to pull the chair toward me. He fell back square flat on his ass, I think I may have a collapsed a lung from the sheer insane amounts of laughing I did. I got detention. It didn’t matter. It was worth it.

The comedy option may not always be the good one. It may not always be bad. It will be, however, funny. And lasting – which is more than what we can say about so much of our daily lives.

I think the key to having a good memory, is knowing when to have a laugh for your own sake. You find some joke, some observance, some action, entertaining enough that it stays with you because you laugh so god damned hard at it. Those of us that recognize the general absurdities of “normal” life, and not in a awkward LOL I’m SUCH A REBEL, just that there are some objectively strange shit people don’t always notice, do this better than most.

Take care of your brain and laugh so hard your tits spray.