Posts
The Queen and her Prime Minister discuss affairs of state a' la nosh at another HIYLH Original Sitcom clickable link:
http://www.xtranormal.com/profile/2841911/
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Voyeurism 101
I had to stop using the binoculars from the upstairs den to spy on the neighbors hanging out in swimwear on their freshly-built backyard deck, because I could see the wife close-up with a hand on her hip shaking her free fist in my direction menacingly and evidently screaming something at the top of her lungs. While I could not hear what she was saying, as the windows were sealed shut and the air conditioning was cranked up to warp speed, I got a pretty good handle on her meaning with some focused lip reading. It was, approximately: "I-am-going-to-call-the-police-you-motherfucking-pervert-and-I-am-going-to-get-my-husband-to-come-over-and-break-every-bone-in-your-face." But I could have been off by a word or two.
They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and this is how my periscope came into being. I won't disclose how it was constructed, because the patent is pending. Suffice it to say that, crude though it may be, it is, nonetheless, effective.
The issue of sound has yet to be worked out, especially after the neighbors discovered all the microphones in the hedges connected with wires leading over the fence to our property. Naturally, we played dumb and blamed all on the cat. According to the attorneys, this general denial will have to be buffed up a bit when the case finally comes to trial. In the meantime, the 500-foot stay-away court order has not dimmed the prospects for innovation to sustain this importanthobby research.
Painstaking analysis over many months of careful observation has led to the conclusion that my imaginings about what my neighbors talk about in their "private" moments, and what they actually discuss bear absolutely no relation to one another. This is just one of the perils of having a hyperactive imagination tinged with an unquenchable inquisitiveness. A lesser explorer might have abandoned the project long ago, but I am disciplined, and governed by a deep and abiding need to know.
For example, just the other day, while lying flat on my back on the floor (having double-bolted all the doors), and wearing a bullet-proof vest and a helmet, eyes glued to the periscope viewfinder with the other end of the device pressed surreptitiously against the glass, I had an unobstructed view of my neighbors deep in conversation. As per usual, the audio portion of their dialogue was out of range, but I filled in the blanks.
She was reclining comfortably on a chaise lounge reading a glossy Botox magazine, and he was standing before her, tattooed and shirtless, holding what looked to be about a thousand pounds of tile in his arms, having just chopped down three trees and skinned a deer, which now swung discreetly from a nearby branch.
Here's what they probably were saying to one another:
She: Have you fixed the drain in the downstairs bathroom, yet?
He: I can't find the pliers.
She: What are you saying? I didn't take the stupid pliers.
He: I wasn't accusing you. I can't find them is all.
She: I asked you to fix the drain 2 weeks ago.
He: Yeah, yeah. O.K. What's for lunch?
She: Meatballs.
Even though I have come to realize that the above conversation is a more likely re-creation of their actual speech, here's what I fantasized they were saying to each other:
She: My friends are coming over for a lingerie party and pillow fight this afternoon, and we'll need you to join in. You'll be the only man there. If it goes on too late, they'll probably have to spend the night.
He: I can't find the pliers.
She: You're going to bring the pliers? Wow! That's kinky.
He: Oh, boy! You said it! We're gonna have us some fun!
She: I asked you to stock up on massage oil 2 weeks ago. Did you do it?
He: Yeah, yeah. Don't worry. What's for lunch?
She: Meatballs.
Clearly, my neighbors have too much time on their hands. All the same, I am willing to make sacrifices for the good of science.
Unfortunately, I can't call my periscope a "camera obscura," because the Patent Office claims somebody else already thought of that 1,450 years ago. This is somewhat disappointing, but I am undeterred, and so will press on with this work.
Another benefit of the periscope is that it is a pretty effective tool for bird-watching when the neighbors aren't around. In these moments, I usually jettison the helmet.
They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and this is how my periscope came into being. I won't disclose how it was constructed, because the patent is pending. Suffice it to say that, crude though it may be, it is, nonetheless, effective.
The issue of sound has yet to be worked out, especially after the neighbors discovered all the microphones in the hedges connected with wires leading over the fence to our property. Naturally, we played dumb and blamed all on the cat. According to the attorneys, this general denial will have to be buffed up a bit when the case finally comes to trial. In the meantime, the 500-foot stay-away court order has not dimmed the prospects for innovation to sustain this important
Painstaking analysis over many months of careful observation has led to the conclusion that my imaginings about what my neighbors talk about in their "private" moments, and what they actually discuss bear absolutely no relation to one another. This is just one of the perils of having a hyperactive imagination tinged with an unquenchable inquisitiveness. A lesser explorer might have abandoned the project long ago, but I am disciplined, and governed by a deep and abiding need to know.
For example, just the other day, while lying flat on my back on the floor (having double-bolted all the doors), and wearing a bullet-proof vest and a helmet, eyes glued to the periscope viewfinder with the other end of the device pressed surreptitiously against the glass, I had an unobstructed view of my neighbors deep in conversation. As per usual, the audio portion of their dialogue was out of range, but I filled in the blanks.
She was reclining comfortably on a chaise lounge reading a glossy Botox magazine, and he was standing before her, tattooed and shirtless, holding what looked to be about a thousand pounds of tile in his arms, having just chopped down three trees and skinned a deer, which now swung discreetly from a nearby branch.
Here's what they probably were saying to one another:
She: Have you fixed the drain in the downstairs bathroom, yet?
He: I can't find the pliers.
She: What are you saying? I didn't take the stupid pliers.
He: I wasn't accusing you. I can't find them is all.
She: I asked you to fix the drain 2 weeks ago.
He: Yeah, yeah. O.K. What's for lunch?
She: Meatballs.
Even though I have come to realize that the above conversation is a more likely re-creation of their actual speech, here's what I fantasized they were saying to each other:
She: My friends are coming over for a lingerie party and pillow fight this afternoon, and we'll need you to join in. You'll be the only man there. If it goes on too late, they'll probably have to spend the night.
He: I can't find the pliers.
She: You're going to bring the pliers? Wow! That's kinky.
He: Oh, boy! You said it! We're gonna have us some fun!
She: I asked you to stock up on massage oil 2 weeks ago. Did you do it?
He: Yeah, yeah. Don't worry. What's for lunch?
She: Meatballs.
Clearly, my neighbors have too much time on their hands. All the same, I am willing to make sacrifices for the good of science.
Unfortunately, I can't call my periscope a "camera obscura," because the Patent Office claims somebody else already thought of that 1,450 years ago. This is somewhat disappointing, but I am undeterred, and so will press on with this work.
Another benefit of the periscope is that it is a pretty effective tool for bird-watching when the neighbors aren't around. In these moments, I usually jettison the helmet.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
KASHA VARNISHKES IN SPACE
An original Honk if You Like Honking Sit-com:
An HIYLK clickable link:
Two Space Travelers Discuss the Meaning of Life
An HIYLK clickable link:
Two Space Travelers Discuss the Meaning of Life
Friday, July 9, 2010
EVERYBODY IS THE STAR OF THE MOVIE OF THEIR OWN LIFE, EXCEPT FOR ME -- I'M JUST THE ASSISTANT GRIP (2ND UNIT) AND ALSO ADJUNCT SPECIAL ASSISTANT TO MR. DECAPRIO, WHICH MOSTLY INVOLVES RUNNING AROUND GETTING COFFEE AND A CERTAIN KIND OF SCHWARMA THAT ISN'T AVAILABLE IN HOLLYWOOD (LEGALLY) BECAUSE OF A CONFLICT BETWEEN SHECHITA, THE CHARTER OF THE ASPCA, AND THE SANITATION CODE OR SOME SUCH (HEY, THANKS FOR NOTHING UPTON SINCLAIR!)
____________________________________
Hello, I'd like to speak to Benjamin the Clown. Is this Benjamin the Clown?
----
Uh, no, this is a law firm...
...
...
...
Hello, are you there?
----
I'd like to speak to Benjamin the Clown.
---
As I said, this is a law firm.
I don't believe Benjamin the Clown has had this telephone number for many years and a day.
----
Can you give him a message for me?
----
Excuse me?
---
I want to know if he's available for my son's bar mitzvah in two weeks.
---
No, I don't think you understand.
Benjamin the Clown is not affiliated with this firm.
---
Well, can't you give him a message?
---
How can I give him a message if I don't know where he is?
---
But this is his number.
----
Who? Whose number?
----
Benjamin the Clown. This is his number.
----
How could it be Benjamin the Clown's number when it's my number?
----
That's what I'm asking you.
---
Listen, Sir. Benjamin the Clown is not here.
---
If he's not there, why are you answering his phone?
---
I'm not answering his phone.
I'm answering my phone.
---
And you can't give him a message for me?
---
No.
No, I can't.
---
Oh.
---
Was there anything else?
---
Well, uhmm, are you available in two weeks?
---
Available for what?
---
My son's bar mitzvah.
---
What do you mean "available?"
What do you need?
---
Can you do tumbling and make balloon animals?
---
No.
---
Well, what can you do?
---
Mostly just talk on the phone.
---
That's it?
---
and write letters.
---
And?
---
And what?
---
What else can you do?
---
Well, I changed the water cooler jug today by myself.
----
Oh, that could be good.
---
That you like?
---
Yeah, let's book it.
---
Hold on a second. I...
---
Oh, don't worry.
I'm not going to tell Benjamin the Clown.
You won't have to split the fee with him.
---
Finally, you're saying something that makes sense.
Hello, I'd like to speak to Benjamin the Clown. Is this Benjamin the Clown?
----
Uh, no, this is a law firm...
...
...
...
Hello, are you there?
----
I'd like to speak to Benjamin the Clown.
---
As I said, this is a law firm.
I don't believe Benjamin the Clown has had this telephone number for many years and a day.
----
Can you give him a message for me?
----
Excuse me?
---
I want to know if he's available for my son's bar mitzvah in two weeks.
---
No, I don't think you understand.
Benjamin the Clown is not affiliated with this firm.
---
Well, can't you give him a message?
---
How can I give him a message if I don't know where he is?
---
But this is his number.
----
Who? Whose number?
----
Benjamin the Clown. This is his number.
----
How could it be Benjamin the Clown's number when it's my number?
----
That's what I'm asking you.
---
Listen, Sir. Benjamin the Clown is not here.
---
If he's not there, why are you answering his phone?
---
I'm not answering his phone.
I'm answering my phone.
---
And you can't give him a message for me?
---
No.
No, I can't.
---
Oh.
---
Was there anything else?
---
Well, uhmm, are you available in two weeks?
---
Available for what?
---
My son's bar mitzvah.
---
What do you mean "available?"
What do you need?
---
Can you do tumbling and make balloon animals?
---
No.
---
Well, what can you do?
---
Mostly just talk on the phone.
---
That's it?
---
and write letters.
---
And?
---
And what?
---
What else can you do?
---
Well, I changed the water cooler jug today by myself.
----
Oh, that could be good.
---
That you like?
---
Yeah, let's book it.
---
Hold on a second. I...
---
Oh, don't worry.
I'm not going to tell Benjamin the Clown.
You won't have to split the fee with him.
---
Finally, you're saying something that makes sense.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
TARTUFFE AT THE BUREAU DE LA POSTE Or: Mandelbaum Buys Some Stamps.
(HIYLH Live from Paris -- Part II)
by Manny Moliere
Introduction by Auf Wiederzane
INTRODUCTION
I am Auf Wiederzane. How do you do?
The Players
Tartuffe -- a postal supervisor
Pedrolino -- a postal clerk
Madame Pernelle -- a customer waiting on line
Orgon -- another customer waiting on line
Mandelbaum -- a taxpayer from a foreign land
Mis en Scene - A post office, Paris
Mandelbaum is trying to buy stamps for some post cards. Pedrolino is the clerk on duty at the counter. Tartuffe stands next to Pedrolino to offer helpful tips about regulations enforced by the European Union having to do with the mailing of animal parts, dry ice, blood, and so forth. Madame Pernelle and Orgon wait impatiently on line behind Mandelbaum. Orgon is dressed in white from head to toe. It is very hot and the refusal to switch on any fans in the building has become a point of pride with the government employees who manage it. Mandelbaum, post cards in hand, steps up to the counter with fear and loathing.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Mandelbaum: Bon jour kind sir and by the way…
Pedrolino: What iz it zat you want today?
Mandelbaum: To mail these post cards straight away. They’re all from the Musee D’Orsay.
Tartuffe: You’ll have to put zem on ze scale.
Mandelbaum: But they’re just cards…
Pedrolino: Zat makes zem mail.
Mandelbaum: We pay one rate from where I hail.
Tartuffe: Ze law’s ze law, we shan’t risk jail!
Mandelbaum: This is insane! They have no weight!
Orgon: (whispering loudly to Madame Pernelle behind Mandelbaum) And how much longer must we wait?
Madame Pernelle: (so loudly that the persons sitting in the first 3 rows will develop otitis media temporarily) I second that; I’m running late!
Pedrolino: (to Tartuffe) Another county heard from, boss.
Tartuffe: (to the assembly) No service if you make us cross!
(Pedrolino points to a big bag of golf clubs leaning up against the counter. These are there gratuitously, and do not advance the plot one jot).
Pedrolino: Who left zose zere? Zey have to go.
Mandelbaum: Whose woods these are, I think I know. His house is in Poughkeepsie, though.
Orgon (addressing Pedrolino): Can you please hurry -- any chance?
Pedrolino: Monsieur, it’s not ze Tour de France.
Mandelbaum: (indicating the post cards) These can’t go on the Internet.
Pedrolino: Indeed, it’s not invented yet.
Mandelbaum: Vous etes meshugge a la tete! Why are these rules so difficile?
Pedrolino: Ze postmaster’s an imbecile.
Mandelbaum: If I complain, will that solve it?
Pedrolino: Just fill zese forms in triplicate.
Mandelbaum: And then you’ll send them right away?
Pedrolino: Au Ministere du Je ne Sais.
Madame Pernelle: The man just wants to buy some stamps.
Pedrolino: It’s not so simple…
Orgon: Oy! My cramps!
Madame Pernelle and Pedrolino: (in unison): You have cramps!!?
Orgon: In my feet from standing so.
Tartuffe: Asseyez vous. Enjoy the show.
Mandelbaum: Will you please mail my postcards, now? I’ll weigh them if you show me how.
Pedrolino: Ze machinn broke; you’re out of luck.
Mandelbaum: Well, then, who do I have to..
Madame Pernelle: I’m stuck! Mon Dieu! This wait’s too much to bear.
Pedrolino: Don’t get your kishkes in a tear.
Madame Pernelle: You cheeky man! I’m out the door!
Pedrolino: Au revoir, Madame. And tout alors!
(A huff appears mysteriously out of nowhere and she leaves in it, stage right. As she does so, her purse flies open and several shoplifted curios come tumbling out. Pedrolino calls after her.)
Pedrolino: Your tchocthkes all fell to the floor!
Tartuffe: Oh let her go; she was a bore.
Mandelbaum: What about my stamps, Monsieur?
Pedrolino: What about zem, foreigner?
Mandelbaum: I need to have them this minn-it.
Pedrolino: You must obtain ze mail permit.
Mandelbaum: A mail perm…Monsieur, I think you’re full of…
Orgon: That’s it! I’m leaving, too. I’ve heard the last!
(The wee-wah wee-wah sound of a French police siren blares from stage left. Enter Inspector Clouseau).
Clouseau: Attendez vous! And not so fast!
Pedrolino: Clouseau! You’re not listed in zis play!
Clouseau: I had to show up, anyway. I’m on a case of fashion fraud. I strike before ze trail goes froid! (to Orgon) Monsieur, you are under arrest. Your white suit’s one all France detests. Your shoes don’t go with your silk vest. Your rhymes are worse than all ze rest.
Orgon: How did you know that it was I?
Clouseau: Madame Pernelle’s a police spy. Do not underestimate ze cops. We cannot tolerate ze fops (like you).
Tartuffe: Zat does not scan, Dear Inspecteur.
Clouseau: Please do not interfere, Monsieur.
(Clouseau snaps his fingers and two gendarmes appear and take Orgon away in chains).
Tartuffe (addressing the audience): And so we now can close ze play. Ze moral’s clear, if I dare say. (addressing Pedrolino) Tell zem, sil vous connasais.
Pedrolino: Don’t wear white post- Labor Day.
Mandelbaum: My postage now, sir, sil vous plait.
Tartuffe: Impossible! We’re now ferme'!
(He posts a large sign that says:
“Passage interdit jour et nuit sauf Lun. et Ven. de 9:45h - 13:25 h. Resignment. Rappel. Securite au officales. Signe incomprehensible” and escorts Mandelbaum to the door.
Exeunt ensemble to Fanfares, drums and flourishes.
Pomp & Circumstance.
Swing your partner dosey-doe.
Curtain.
-Fin-
by Manny Moliere
Introduction by Auf Wiederzane
INTRODUCTION
I am Auf Wiederzane. How do you do?
The Players
Tartuffe -- a postal supervisor
Pedrolino -- a postal clerk
Madame Pernelle -- a customer waiting on line
Orgon -- another customer waiting on line
Mandelbaum -- a taxpayer from a foreign land
Mis en Scene - A post office, Paris
Mandelbaum is trying to buy stamps for some post cards. Pedrolino is the clerk on duty at the counter. Tartuffe stands next to Pedrolino to offer helpful tips about regulations enforced by the European Union having to do with the mailing of animal parts, dry ice, blood, and so forth. Madame Pernelle and Orgon wait impatiently on line behind Mandelbaum. Orgon is dressed in white from head to toe. It is very hot and the refusal to switch on any fans in the building has become a point of pride with the government employees who manage it. Mandelbaum, post cards in hand, steps up to the counter with fear and loathing.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Mandelbaum: Bon jour kind sir and by the way…
Pedrolino: What iz it zat you want today?
Mandelbaum: To mail these post cards straight away. They’re all from the Musee D’Orsay.
Tartuffe: You’ll have to put zem on ze scale.
Mandelbaum: But they’re just cards…
Pedrolino: Zat makes zem mail.
Mandelbaum: We pay one rate from where I hail.
Tartuffe: Ze law’s ze law, we shan’t risk jail!
Mandelbaum: This is insane! They have no weight!
Orgon: (whispering loudly to Madame Pernelle behind Mandelbaum) And how much longer must we wait?
Madame Pernelle: (so loudly that the persons sitting in the first 3 rows will develop otitis media temporarily) I second that; I’m running late!
Pedrolino: (to Tartuffe) Another county heard from, boss.
Tartuffe: (to the assembly) No service if you make us cross!
(Pedrolino points to a big bag of golf clubs leaning up against the counter. These are there gratuitously, and do not advance the plot one jot).
Pedrolino: Who left zose zere? Zey have to go.
Mandelbaum: Whose woods these are, I think I know. His house is in Poughkeepsie, though.
Orgon (addressing Pedrolino): Can you please hurry -- any chance?
Pedrolino: Monsieur, it’s not ze Tour de France.
Mandelbaum: (indicating the post cards) These can’t go on the Internet.
Pedrolino: Indeed, it’s not invented yet.
Mandelbaum: Vous etes meshugge a la tete! Why are these rules so difficile?
Pedrolino: Ze postmaster’s an imbecile.
Mandelbaum: If I complain, will that solve it?
Pedrolino: Just fill zese forms in triplicate.
Mandelbaum: And then you’ll send them right away?
Pedrolino: Au Ministere du Je ne Sais.
Madame Pernelle: The man just wants to buy some stamps.
Pedrolino: It’s not so simple…
Orgon: Oy! My cramps!
Madame Pernelle and Pedrolino: (in unison): You have cramps!!?
Orgon: In my feet from standing so.
Tartuffe: Asseyez vous. Enjoy the show.
Mandelbaum: Will you please mail my postcards, now? I’ll weigh them if you show me how.
Pedrolino: Ze machinn broke; you’re out of luck.
Mandelbaum: Well, then, who do I have to..
Madame Pernelle: I’m stuck! Mon Dieu! This wait’s too much to bear.
Pedrolino: Don’t get your kishkes in a tear.
Madame Pernelle: You cheeky man! I’m out the door!
Pedrolino: Au revoir, Madame. And tout alors!
(A huff appears mysteriously out of nowhere and she leaves in it, stage right. As she does so, her purse flies open and several shoplifted curios come tumbling out. Pedrolino calls after her.)
Pedrolino: Your tchocthkes all fell to the floor!
Tartuffe: Oh let her go; she was a bore.
Mandelbaum: What about my stamps, Monsieur?
Pedrolino: What about zem, foreigner?
Mandelbaum: I need to have them this minn-it.
Pedrolino: You must obtain ze mail permit.
Mandelbaum: A mail perm…Monsieur, I think you’re full of…
Orgon: That’s it! I’m leaving, too. I’ve heard the last!
(The wee-wah wee-wah sound of a French police siren blares from stage left. Enter Inspector Clouseau).
Clouseau: Attendez vous! And not so fast!
Pedrolino: Clouseau! You’re not listed in zis play!
Clouseau: I had to show up, anyway. I’m on a case of fashion fraud. I strike before ze trail goes froid! (to Orgon) Monsieur, you are under arrest. Your white suit’s one all France detests. Your shoes don’t go with your silk vest. Your rhymes are worse than all ze rest.
Orgon: How did you know that it was I?
Clouseau: Madame Pernelle’s a police spy. Do not underestimate ze cops. We cannot tolerate ze fops (like you).
Tartuffe: Zat does not scan, Dear Inspecteur.
Clouseau: Please do not interfere, Monsieur.
(Clouseau snaps his fingers and two gendarmes appear and take Orgon away in chains).
Tartuffe (addressing the audience): And so we now can close ze play. Ze moral’s clear, if I dare say. (addressing Pedrolino) Tell zem, sil vous connasais.
Pedrolino: Don’t wear white post- Labor Day.
Mandelbaum: My postage now, sir, sil vous plait.
Tartuffe: Impossible! We’re now ferme'!
(He posts a large sign that says:
“Passage interdit jour et nuit sauf Lun. et Ven. de 9:45h - 13:25 h. Resignment. Rappel. Securite au officales. Signe incomprehensible” and escorts Mandelbaum to the door.
Exeunt ensemble to Fanfares, drums and flourishes.
Pomp & Circumstance.
Swing your partner dosey-doe.
Curtain.
-Fin-
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