here is a new piece i wrote for McSweeney’s Internet Tendency
You may have noticed the new Vespa motor scooter that has been parked outside my house. I had asked my wife Connie for a motorcycle for my birthday, but she said they’re too dangerous. On the morning of my birthday she surprised me with a brand new Vespa scooter instead. If I don’t use the Vespa she takes it personally and gets very upset, so I’ve had to drive it to work everyday. It is humiliating. I have “accidentally” left the Vespa un-chained, with the key in the ignition, in my front yard every night for the past three weeks and none of you have stolen it. I appreciate your moral decency in that regard, and your neighborliness means a lot to me, but I am giving you the go-ahead to please steal my Vespa.
I really don’t want to hurt Connie’s feelings. I don’t want to return the Vespa or sell it or lie to her in any way, but if one of you were to steal this glorified sidecar out of my yard so that I could tell her honestly that it was stolen, I’d be forever in your debt.
I don’t know what else I could do to make this Vespa any easier to steal. Last weekend I left a big bag of money (clearly labeled with three dollar signs: $$$) on the seat of the Vespa hoping it would lure one of you over, and then after you took the money maybe you’d say to yourself, “I may as well take this Vespa too.” When I woke up, the money was gone but the Vespa was still there. I am not mad about the money. I don’t even care to know who did it. How about this? Whoever the culprit is, just put the money in my mailbox tonight and I won’t ask any questions. Just please, take the Vespa.
Maybe you guys are hesitant to steal my Vespa because you don’t know how to drive one? I promise you there is nothing to it. Honestly, if you can ride a carousel you can drive a Vespa. Nevertheless, I’ve purchased an instructional book called So You Bought a Vespa, which I will leave on the ground next to the Vespa tonight. I’m also willing to pour some money into the Vespa and really soup it up if it’s not good enough as is. NOS, decals, whatever you want. I will put a jet engine in this stupid thing if you’d be more inclined to steal it. Even if one of you could just steal a wheel off the Vespa that would be good enough. I wouldn’t be able to ride it with just one wheel. You’re all smart and creative people and I’m sure one of you could think of something cool to do with a free Vespa wheel.
Time is a bit of an issue here. Connie is talking about going to a Vespa convention together next week and if it’s not stolen before then I might have to “accidentally” crash it into a tree or building. The only other idea I had would be to get a DWI on the Vespa and lose my license to drive it. As some of you know I’ve been sober for 14 years and it would truly kill me to intentionally relapse just to lose my Vespa privileges.
I almost forgot—Connie started to notice that I was leaving the Vespa outside unchained to anything, so I had to start locking it up to keep up illusions. It’s a simple number-combination lock and the code is 1234. And let me repeat once more—I will NOTreport the theft to the police!!
Thanks for your help with this. I hope you know that I would do the same for any of you. And I hope this goes without saying but please do not tell Connie I’m making arrangements to have my own Vespa stolen.
Yours in friendship,
National Geographic “Afghan Girl” Photo
Nothing too disrespectful - Probably would have gone with classic “bunny ears” or just made a silly face right behind the woman
Marilyn Monroe Getting Her Skirt Blown Up By A Sewer Grate Photo
Would have been in the background crossing my fingers like I was saying, “I hope it gets blown ALL the way up!!!”
Protest at Tienanmen Square Photo
Would have been in the background forming my hand into a gun and putting it up to my head as if to suggest I thought the protest was boring
Hindenburg Disaster Photo
Would have been standing in the foreground making the “jerk-off” motion as if to say, “Great job steering the blimp… Not!”
“V-J Day In Times Square” Kiss Photo
Penis-into-vagina hand gesture behind the couple’s heads!!
American Soldiers Planting The Flag On Iwo Jima Photo
Would have been standing in front, tilting my hands as if I was trying to tell the guys “It’s crooked fellas!!”
Original Loch Ness Monster Photo
Would have held a word bubble next to the “monster’s” head like the monster is talking and in the word bubble it says, “I’m just a stick!!”
Original Bigfoot Photo
Would have gotten into a humping pose right behind the beast
Einstein With His Tongue Out
Already funny enough
Hippie Girl Putting a Flower Into A Soldier’s Gun Photo
Would have leaned in next to the girl and held my nose and made a grossed-out face like the girl was stinky!!
The Beatles Crossing Abbey Road Photo
Would have gotten at the end of the line like I was the fifth Beatle
i have a piece published on McSweeney’s today. check it out here.
Dear Sir or Madam:
This is a warning from your Internet Service Provider. Your IP address has been used to download and/or share copyrighted content, and accordingly your internet service is at risk of being suspended. We are obliged to remind you that the downloading and/or distribution of exclusively owned or licensed content infringes copyright.
We’ve been notified that in the past month, you have downloaded 250 GBs of music by Canadian alternative folk-rock band the Crash Test Dummies. We thought maybe it was an error on our end, but we looked into it further and confirmed that you did indeed download 250 GBs of music by the Crash Test Dummies, creators of the 1993 hit single “Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm.” We did some research and it turns out the Crash Test Dummies’ entire catalog of music, even including side projects by the band’s members, should just barely weigh in at 1 GB, leading us to assume you either found and downloaded 249 GBs of unreleased music by the Crash Test Dummies (???), or downloaded their entire discography 250 times? We are baffled and fascinated. We have a few questions:
We remind you again that we will terminate your internet service if piracy of copyrighted content is traced to your IP again in the future. We don’t anticipate this being a problem because we assume 250 GBs of Crash Test Dummies has to be all of it, right?
We apologize if this letter reads as judgmental.
When my first girlfriend Tamara dumped me to be with an older boy named Dave, I felt like someone had shot me in the chest with an arrow, because earlier that day I had accidentally shot myself in the chest with an arrow. Tamara left me to be with an older boy named Dave, and I fell into a deep depression. The whole world seemed less vibrant. Colors weren’t as bright. Food didn’t taste as good, and throwing it on the floor because I didn’t like it wasn’t as satisfying as usual. I couldn’t even sleep at night, because I was too busy hanging out outside Tamara’a house.
Tamara was the most attractive girl I had ever met. She even made ordinary things look sexy. Just boring, everyday things, like eating a banana or walking around in the nude somehow became erotic when she did them. When we would make love, it was like our souls left out of our bodies and embraced each other, and then had sex.
I was on my most gentlemanly behavior around her. I would open doors for her and throw her coat down over puddles and generally just cater to her every need. When she would point out a spider on the wall I would kill it and she would thank me. When she pointed out a dog or stray housecat I would kill it and she would get mad. Eventually I realized that just because she pointed at an animal, that didn’t mean she wanted me to kill it.
I had this perfect fantasy about how we would live our life together. We would buy a nice house on a quiet, peaceful street. There would be this most gorgeous white picket fence out front, built around the statue she would help build of me. We would have four beautiful children and let her mother raise them.
When we split up, the recovery process was long and brutal. I fell into a pit of despair, and by that I mean I fell into a literal pit, because I was too busy thinking about Tamara to notice that I was about to walk into a pit. As I lay at the bottom of the pit feeling bad for myself, I eventually realized something - This was a metaphor. If I could climb out of this pit, I could overcome anything. Suddenly, escaping the pit became everything to me. I picked myself up, looked up towards the surface and felt a rush of adrenaline. I had the eye of the tiger, playing on my Zune. I doubted myself for a second, but I shook it off and prepared to scale the walls of the dark, unforgiving pit. I reached for rocks, vines and whatever else I could grip to hoist myself. Small step by small step, I finally made it to the surface and back to civilization. I rolled onto safe ground, stood up and looked back down into the pit, just taking a minute to bask in the private glory of my achievement. A few minutes later I accidentally walked into the pit again.
The next day, after the fire department had helped me out of the pit, I was more depressed than ever. I decided to take a walk to do some thinking, and that’s when I accidentally fell into the pit again. After I was rescued from the pit, I vowed that this was the last straw. I HAD to turn my life around. I decided to focus my energy on my career and on my health. I began pursuing my dream job, I quit drinking and smoking, and I started jogging. It was after I started on this new path that the most astounding thing happened to me - I accidentally jogged into the pit. Eventually the city decided to fill the pit so that no one could fall into it anymore. And that’s when I knew I had won - I had finally overcome the biggest hurdle of my life. That was a huge relief, because I could start drinking and smoking again. Later that day I accidentally walked into a different pit. I was able to get out of that pit because it wasn’t as deep as that first pit, but on the way home, I fell into another pit.
The fist time you walk into a pit, you’re like, “Well, this can happen to anyone.” The second time you walk into a pit you’re like “Okay, this is a little embarrassing.” By the third pit you’re like, “I mean, really?”
But luckily, I eventually learned something very important - all that it really takes to heal, is time. All these years later, I have finally forgotten about Tamara, but I have to admit that sometimes at night when I’m looking at the moon, I find myself wondering if, at that exact moment, she’s out there somewhere watching the same documentary about the moon that I am. But I am 99% healed. I don’t even think of her when I fall into pits anymore. I just think, “Alright Lucas, how are you going to get out of this pit?” Then I call the fire department again, because I need them to come help me out of the pit.