family « Dan Allen

Posts Tagged: family

history — No Comments
10
Mar 10

The Sun Viking Hotel

The last time I went to the beach, I stayed at The Sun Viking Hotel, which had an enormous 50 foot, gaudy, plaster Viking statue in the parking lot. It was a family hotel, and a bunch of kids were running around with souvenir axes and horned helmets. How cute? Then I remembered back to another time I stayed at another beach hotel which was called The Hotel Viking; slightly different, but essentially the same. Every tourist city by the sea has the same lame hotels: some kind of Viking Hotel…across the street Pirate’s Cove…next door the El Conquistador. A lot of people are missing the general theme here. All of these groups being glorified were once associated with murderers, rapist, and thieves. Yippee! Happy family fun-time! I guess all it takes is about 500 to 1000 years to wash away the atrocities of malicious men. The future is looking brighter, and brighter. In the year 3030, you’ll be able to check into The Klansmen by the Sea.

Hotel Clerk
Here’s your key, boy. Room 606. Don’t worry about a thing, we got plenty clean sheets.
If you know what I mean?

Originally posted 2004-06-01 15:10:13. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

Nobody Remembers Me

It was horrible what happened five years ago on 9-11. People lost their lives and will always be remembered.

But what about me, I still exist. Somehow through this tragic event, I have been deleted from everyone’s mind. Erased. Eradicated. Brainwashed out of Man’s hard drive.

Nine, eleven…nine, eleven…nine, eleven

Anything missing?

What happened to “ten”!

I use to be a “somebody”. The world revolved around me.

The Ten Commandments, “She’s a perfect ten”, “Hang ten”, “ten little indians”…for Christ’s sake the majority of Earth’s civilizations use a base-10 numbering system.

Now I feel invisible. A shadow. I know what Ashlee Simpson feels like at Thanksgiving, or Tito at Christmas. What have I done to deserve this? Am I not easily divisible? Do I not make multiplying a simple task? What the fuck more do you want from me?

I could understand if I was irrational or a transcendental number. They’re enigmas.

Who knows their purpose? I don’t.

I ran with that pack in college.

π, Φ the Golden Ratio, e the base of the Natural Log…they were all deadbeats out of they’re minds.

π was always tripping on acid and trying to convince me he was from outer space and that he helped everyone from the Egyptians build the pyramids to the Mayan temples. Give me a break.

The Golden Ratio was under the impression that he was the divine Renaissance number created by God himself. Φ was one self-righteous, ecclesiastical mother fucker.

The base of the Natural Log e seemed normal, until you started to talk about money. Compound this, compound that…he would get this diabolical look in his eye when you mentioned interest rates. He’d sell his mother’s lung if he could profit from it.

I’m a rational number. A whole number.

God damn you all!

It’s nine,

eleven!

Originally posted 2006-09-11 08:37:33. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

overheard nyc — 2 Comments
5
Mar 10

Name Dropping versus Name Throwing

I overheard a conversation:

SOME DUMB DUDE

I hate schmoozing. I’m no good at it. Man, I wish I was like Eric. That dude is awesome at networking. He’s  like real good at name-throwing, if you know what I mean.

Name-throwing? What the fuck is that? I’ve heard of name-dropping, but I’ve never heard of a name-throwing. A name-thrower sounds like a weapon used in Viet Nam.

SOME DUMBER DUDE

I fucking rocked at that  industry party last night. I name-palmed the shit out of that place.

Originally posted 2006-01-16 17:46:08. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

mathematics — 1 Comment
4
Mar 10

MAS*H is a valid mathematical statement

M
mass (m)

A
acceleration (a)

S
displacement/distance (s)

H
height (h)

If Newton’s Second Law states: Force equals mass times acceleration (F=ma),

then
m × a = Force

Displacement and height are lengths. If you multiply two lengths together, you would create a surface area.

s × h = Surface Area
So,

(m × a)(s × h) = Force × Surface area

Force × Surface Area = Pressure

pres·sure
n.
Force applied uniformly over a surface, measured as force per unit of area.

mash
n.
A crushing or grinding

Tasmanian devils have 300 pounds per square inch of bite.

I must remind readers that I was a virgin until I was 21

Originally posted 2006-01-04 15:21:49. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

religion / sci-fi — No Comments
2
Mar 10

Why Did Yoda Die So Young?

Yoda was a creature called a Gherkin with an average life expectancy of 1000 years.

At age 877 years old, he fought a stalemate battle with Emperor Palpatine, the most powerful Sith Lord in the universe.

He exiled himself to the swampy planet of Dagobah and was able avoid detection from Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine because a powerful Dark Jedi named Bpfassi had died there flooding the region with the Dark Side negating his Light Side.

About twenty three years later, Luke Skywalker returns to Dagobah for the last time to complete his Jedi training. Sadly, Master Yoda the Gherkin died there at the age of only 900 years old.

By problem is this—compared to humans with an average life expectancy of 72 years. Twenty three Gherkin years would have been the equivalent of only two human years since his ass-kicking, Jet-li/Bruce Lee battle with the Emperor.

QUESTION:
Why did his health fade so quickly?

ANSWER:
Luke discovered Yoda’s cyberjournal and found out that he had made a few stops before he permanently exiled himself. He had hyperspaced to Tantooine and bought some essentials: fifty gallons of Rotgut, a thousand DeathSticks and ten pounds of finely-cut Kessel spice. He then visited his favorite Wookie prostitute, Beelacca. Unfortunately, Belacca didn’t honor the Republic’s “Right to Know” policy. She had been infected by a Tusken Raider who had a Wookie fetish with a rare disease contracted from having sex with a Bantha. The drugs and booze accelerated the effects of the STD.

George Lucas was contacted by D.O.G.G. (Daughters of Great Gherkins) to cut the scenes showing these last moments out respect for his family.

Originally posted 2006-01-04 15:45:49. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

politics / wordplay — 2 Comments
10
Feb 10

What does Falluja mean in Arabic?

Falluja (or الفلوجة) is the Arabic word describing what happens when a man has an ejaculation.

INSURGENT® is a cleaning product designed specifically to eliminate falluja-related stains.

Used in a sentence:

Mother

Dammit Billy, this better not be your falluja on the quilt your Grandmother made…I swear to God, you are buying the next bottle of INSURGENT®!

Originally posted 2006-01-13 13:35:16. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

favorites / technology — 5 Comments
9
Feb 10

MoMAudio is Horseshit

MoMA offers a free audio tour to “help” visitors understand what the artist is trying to express.

While helpful with some, you end up looking like a jackass to those brave souls who ventured forth sans audio guidance as you stare at an untitled canvas painted blue by Yves Klein for five minutes listening to a montage of monologues composed by various “experts”.

“Monochrome abstraction—the use of one color over an entire canvas—has been a strategy adopted by many painters wishing to challenge our expectations of what an image can and should represent. Klein likened monochrome painting to an “open window to freedom.” He worked with a chemist to develop his own particular brand of blue. Made from pure color pigment and a binding medium, he called it “International Klein Blue.” Klein adopted this hue as a means of evoking the immateriality and boundlessness that reflected his own peculiar utopian vision of the world.”

Yves Klein, Untitled blue monochrome, 1959.

I enjoy following kids and listening to their reactions to each piece they encounter. It’s in the same spirit of speed dating, they either “love it” or “hate it”. You will either hear, “Oooh…that’s cool!” or “Eeew…that’s crap!” What’s hilarious is that they are usually dead-on while being extremely economical with their word choice.

One room was entirely empty and the halogen lights overhead flickered on and off every ten seconds. Everyone stopped and soaked in the creativity. One couple had found a crumbled scrap of paper and were trying to decipher it’s meaning in the context of the barren room with faulty lighting. As I approached them, they realized it was just a piece of trash some inconsiderate visitor had dropped. They quickly vacated the room to avoid eye contact with me, knowing I knew they had just applied their art history knowledge to garbage.

I was tempted to stick my gum on the wall and attach the wrapper to it and wait for someone to unravel the meaning behind it.

RANDOM DOUCHEBAG ANALYZING MY GUM WRAPPER

The reason the artist chose a piece of paper emblazoned with the words “Trident” on it symbolizes Poseidon or “Earth-Shaker”, the Greek god of earthquakes. The lights signify the chaos created by striking his trident to the ground…blah…blah…blah

I wouldn’t be shocked if I walked into an installation displaying a diorama of a middle-aged couple’s bedroom with two live models in coital activity with a group of tourist surrounding them holding their trusty audio guide to their ear.

DRONING MoMAudio RECORDING

This piece is entitled, Love is Blind. Here we see an aging couple engaged in sexual intercourse. The Danish artist, Sven Bjord, has taken a four dimensional snap shot of an average American couple in the privacy of their own bedroom. Notice the details in the background, Bjord encapsulates the gaudiness of Midwest décor with bric-a-brac from Wal-Mart and furniture from Salvation Army. The ventral position of the post-menopausal female represents: the woman’s movement, the growing number of children produced by the Second World War, and Americans abandonment of body image. The male’s glasses symbolizes that although he has trouble “seeing”, he prefers to soak in his wife’s “beauty” with corrective lenses in full light to show her that his love is truly blind.

Originally posted 2006-09-05 21:57:36. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

international / people — 1 Comment
4
Feb 10

What is the Name of Your Country?

If you flew to Tokyo, and were to ask any Japanese citizen walking on the street, “What country do you live in?”

That person would say without hesitation, “Nippon.”

This would be very awkward, since you would then have to politely correct them and inform them that they live in Japan not in the Make-Believe Land of “Nippon”.

Who is right?

We have Westernized the name of every country we have encountered.

Hindustan ceases to exist and is called India.
Deutchland is forgotten and is now dubbed Germany.
Italia turns to Italy, Spain replaces España,…etc

Criticizing American’s globalization and smothering domination has become far too easy. It isn’t edgy anymore. Its the norm. Though in this particular case, we are not alone.

Spanish people call Germany, Alemania. The French say l’Allemagne and Italians insist its la Germania.

Fortunately, it is limited to the name of the countries and does not extend to the individual names of the citizens.

BOSS

Gary! Jesse! Bring that crate over here.

GARCON

Pardon je, Monsier. Mon nom est Garcon. Ce n’est pas Gary.

JESUS

Si, señor. Mi nombre es Jesus. No es Jesse.

BOSS

Listen here…we don’t understand your bullshit languages and don’t want to hear that kind of jibber-jabber around here. In fact, we don’t really care what you two think. You call yourself whatever you want…to yourselves. But if you don’t like it, you can go back to you own damn country. This ain’t Uzbekistan.

In conclusion, humans are fundamentally resistant to adopting and adapting to different cultures. However, we are all carbon-based life forms composed of the same basic molecular structure. The actual quantified DNA difference between any organisms is so infinitesimally small. We should thank God, Allah, David Koresh, or whom ever you choose to believe in for giving us the proper genetic coding to be homo sapiens. We are few deoxyribonucleic acid strands away from being a lemur or a sweet potato.

Furthermore, we can’t even agree on one word to describe the asymetrical ellipsoid in which we live on.

Earth (English)
Mundo (Spanish)
Duniya (Hindi)
Erde (German)
Terra (Italian)

We need to get our heads out of our asses and come up with an international word for our planet or we will become the laughing stock of the United Milky Way Planets Federation.

Originally posted 2006-01-13 13:22:41. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

international — No Comments
29
Jan 10

People Are Being Killed by Killer Kites in Pakistan

Click here

Obviously, they never attended Kent Powers Academy:

KENT POWERS

Congratulations, and welcome to a new way of living. Hold your hands out …look at them…soon you will control their true ability…these flesh covered extensions of your soul are your answer to the universe. Once you have mastered my technique, you will be able to walk out and command any field on a blistery March day. Children will revere you, women will adore you, and men will fear you. You are the best of the best, I have personally hand picked you out of hundreds of applicants. Well perhaps not hundreds, but a number greater than the number of individuals who are present right now. Each one you have a story of — why you are here. Seekers of Wisdom. Hot shot fliers, who think they have a chance at “The Big Game”. All big fish from small ponds. You think you’re ready? Well you’re not. If someone told me I had to bet money on any of you in next year’s Basant Kite Festival, “I’d tell them to kiss my ass!” I’d rather spend my hard-earned money on a 12 year-old Paki from Lahore. At least, he’d have enough sense to use glass-coated string to cut down his opponents. I had to learn the hard way. I lost my buddy Jimmy in Basant in 98’. He was untangling a line when a low flying fighter kite slit his throat from ear to ear. You will look back at this very point in time and laugh at the shell of a person you are now. I applaud you. You will forever be in my debt. When people read your resume…and see that you trained with Kent Powers, you WILL be respected. In the next nine months, you will LIVE, EAT, and DREAM about kites!!! This will be your new religion, and I am your SAVIOUR. I will say this once, you will address me as Kent Powers. There are NO shortcuts or abbreviations in The Art of Kite Flying. The decision you have made will alter your destiny. One word can define what we do, “Control!” Cerf-volant! Drachen! Aquiline! Cometa! Vlieger! Every language has a word to describe it. Kite! An invention developed 5,000 years ago in Ancient China. This workshop will transcend mathematics, history, geography, physics, and psychology. I don’t like to drop names, but perhaps you know a few of my students: Steve Coates, flies with Skynasaur Kites their first “professional kite flyer”. In fact I just had lunch with Gary Gabriel, the vice president, last week. He professed to me that he wished all the new pilots would take my seminar. You are going to see that this career not only takes skill, but a tremendous amount of networking. Hey, if you got an eccentric, billionaire uncle ready to drop tens of thousands of dollars on you…more power to you. But if you are like the rest of us, corporate sponsorship is the key to success. Sure you could stay Regional or keep doing State Fairs, and grab a few cash prizes. Peanuts! Chump change! Trophies feed your ego, but companies fill your bellies with filet mignons.

You will learn how to axel, fade, 540s…the amount of tricks will be limited by your creativity. Perhaps someday you will be able to patent your own trick someday. In order to do this, you have to give up everything…carnal pleasures, luxuries, vices…and trust my every word. Gentleman, let’s fly.

Originally posted 2007-02-26 11:39:46. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

entertainment / politics — No Comments
17
Jan 10

Transamerica

I was asked to blog in the voice of Bill O’ Reilly.

Here’s my 6/4/07 entry:

I couldn’t stop thinking about AC last night. She consumes my thoughts. Imagining her whispering right-wing rhetoric into my ear at night makes my body quiver like a little Asian schoolgirl. As a teenager I use to watch the The Addam’s Family and would get an erection anytime Morticia would speak French into Gomez’s ear.

“When I first saw you from afar, My heart flamed with fierce passion. And when you spoke French, ooh-la-la!…”

Except, I would puke if she spoke in the guttural, non-coherent, amphibious language of freedom-haters. Not to mention AC’s spectacular boobs arouse me more than any FOX intern I’ve ever met or hired. Not that I would ever suggest that I would hire a person solely on the size of their mammary glands (but it always helps ☺).

After Googling her for hours and drinking a Viagra cocktail and listening to my favorite Kenny Rogers CD, I felt weird and a little stalker-ey. You know Mark Foley-ish but with a woman not a page (although I’m sure that some liberal made him do it. Read here).

My eyes ached, my lower back was killing me and I felt my mouse finger cramping up so I decided to go to bed. However, AC is my crack. I needed one more hit. So as I began my ritual of clearing my history trail so my wife wouldn’t know what I was trolling the Web, I was unable to control my fingers as they typed “A** C****** sexy” into the search box. I was shocked and confused when one of the results was titled, “C****** Comes Out as Transvestite Trickster”.

The reason I was “shocked and confused” was because my state of arousal heightened, my face became flush and my heart raced. It all made sense. I never could understand how a woman could be able to produce such wonderful ideas and be my equal in the war against liberal faggots.

I passed out on the couch in my study and dreamed that we made sweet love. I’ll let you guess who was the top and who was the bottom.

(Hint: Jack was my favorite character)

Originally posted 2007-11-08 12:45:14. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

wordplay — No Comments
27
Dec 09

Different Grades of Unleaded Gas at Mobil

Super Unleaded is 93 octane.
Special Unleaded is 89 octane.
Regular Unleaded is only 87 octane.

They should re-think their labeling system considering that the average IQ of a human is about 100.

93 octane should be Regular, 89 octane would be Borderline, and 87 octane would be “Special”.

GAS ATTENDANT
What can I do you for?

CUSTOMER
Fill’er up, I guess. Goddamn, I cant’ buh-lieve its three fif-dee a gallon.

GAS ATTENDANT
What kind do you want? We’re runnin’ a special on our eighty-seven octane?

CUSTOMER
No offense to your kid, Floyd, but I ain’t gonna put no retard gas in my El Camino.

Originally posted 2006-01-04 15:27:20. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

overheard nyc / people — No Comments
26
Dec 09

Overheard Through My Window in Queens

I couldn’t sleep last night because of the pain, and was elated to finally fall into slumber at the crack of dawn. Only to be awoken by annoying song birds, a woodpecker drilling another useless hole, a squirrel trying scrape his way through my thru-the-wall air conditioning unit, and little fucking boy hitting a concrete wall with a sledge hammer.

Queens Father

That’s it, Jimmy! Keep hitting it!

Queens Kid

I’m gettin’ tired, Dad.

Queens Father

Quit yer whinen’ and keep swingin’

Queens Mother

Come on, Frankie. Give him a break!

Queens Father

Hey, Womens-Lib you want to come out here?

Please free me from my prison.

Originally posted 2006-01-13 11:59:16. Republished by Old Post Promoter.

Dan AllenNYC-based producer and storyteller