Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Forcing Others to Live a Lie for Your Petty Ego

and more on this latest episode of The Clarey Podcast!

Post post - It is Perry the Platypus.


Chris Muir said...

Thanks for that previous link,Cap'n! I've been out sick for a week w/strep.

Anonymous said...

Aaron, I think you are talking about Perry the Platypus (duck-billed, that is). He's teal, wears a fedora, etc.

Anonymous said...

Aaron, I think you are talking about Perry the Platypus (duck-billed, that is). He's teal, wears a fedora, etc.

ChrisW said...

Duckman was an awesome show. Do yourself a favor [everyone, whoever you are] and pick up the DVD collections.

"And when you think about it, isn't that exactly the point?


"And driving. And shopping. And eating. And working. Somehow, somewhere, they all got chewed up and spit back out. They don't taste like living anymore.

"Don't you see what it's like in this deranged waring-blender of a world? Everyday is an agonizing ordeal. Like balancing a pot of scalding water on your head while people whip your legs and butt.

"Ah, you never forget your senior prom.

"You think I'm sick? Well the only disease I've got is modern life, a shnug-busting gauntlet of inefficiency and misery that's one long parade of let-downs, put-downs, trickle-downs, shut-outs, freeze-outs, sell-outs, numb-nuts, nincompoops and nimrods. All making every day as much fun as waxing a flaming Pontiac with your tongue, where even if you do luck into the possibility of some fleeting pleasure - like say some nymphomaniac telephone operators with the muscle control of Romanian mat-slappers agree to a little strip-air hockey, it'll be over before it starts, because some fowl-lacking, feather-reeking cab jockey slams his checker up your hatch-back, and the cab is owned by some piƱata-spanker from a Santaria cult in Waculpla, who starts shaking chicken bones at you and gives you a boil on your neck so big, all it needs is Michael Jordan's autograph to make it complete.

"And even with all this - * WITH ALL THIS* - I still drag my sorry butt off the ceiling every morning and stick my face in the reaping machine for one more day, knowing when it's time to flash the cosmic car key at those pearly gates, I won't be in the coffin anyway, because some underhanded undertaker sold my heart, pancreas and other assorted good and plenty to that same Santaria cult!

"So does anybody really wonder why anybody is hanging on to sanity by the atoms on the tips of their fingernails, while life dirty-dances on their digits? And is it really any wonder that I SEEM DERANGED???

"But that's probably nothing you haven't heard a hundred times before."
[Season Three, Disc One, "A Room With A Bellvue"]

Anonymous said...

Oh you mean parents forcing their children into college and marriage?

Anonymous said...

Apologies for the double-post about Perry the Plat, Cappy. Didn't realize I had spammed you.

Recently found your work. Great stuff.