I gotta fill out some forms online for work

- I gotta fill out some forms online for work.

- Oh...with what?

- Um, with a computer?  Duh.

- No, you know—I meant, you still use a desktop?  People do everything on their phones these days.

- I can't do that with just my phone.

- Yea, I get it.  So you still have that old phone of yours?

- What old phone?

- You know, the one I saw you with last time.  Some Apple, or Android, was it?

- I have an iPhone 6 now.

- Oh laady-da.  It's a carhole.

- LOL.

- Did you just say, "LOL?"  

- (laughs) Yea.

- Your phone's only new till the next one comes out.  What's the operating system on that thing, by the way?  You and your fancy phones...

- It's not fancy anymore; it's just the norm nowa—

- The operating system!

- Jeez, I don't know!  I think it's Safari.  I gotta get going. 

- You going on that computer?  

- What computer?

- Jesus Christ.

- What?

- You said you had something to do, that you couldn't use your phone, and you had to use a...?

- Oh, another computer.

- If there are any flies on you, they're paying rent.

- What?  What does that mean?

- Nothing, it was on TV.  Go on, you were saying?

- Yea, I'll get to my work stuff later; I don't feel like it right now.  I'm going to meet up with some of my girlfriends.

- What are you going to do, eat?

- Yea, we'll probably do that, too.  Most people eat together, you know?

- Don't get it.  

- Yea, I know you don't.  Anyways...

- It's, "Anyway."  Hey, so is that computer you use like a Mac, or PC...or a Linux?  Is it a Linux?

- It's a PC.  

- So, what, you using Internet Explorer?

- Yea, I still have a PC.

- You always use Internet Explorer?  It's not Firefox or Opera or Dragon something?  

- No—

- It's not Linux?  What the fuck is a Linux?

- Wait a minute, I know what you're doing.

- What?

- You're fishing!

- What? I ain't doing nothing.  

- Yea, you are!

- Nothing.  Ain't doing nothin—

- You're—

- I don't fish.

- You're fishing for your blog!

- Blog?  What blog?  

- You're trying to find out if I follow your blog.  

- I don't have a blog.

- Yea, you do.  

- You calling me a—a blogger?  Well how would you know unless you...

- You sent me your drunk links enough times for me to—

- I don't have a blog!  What are you trying to—I don't blog. Who blogs?

- You do.

- No I don't; I eat with people.

- You're trying to track down your readers!  That's so—

- What?

- ...That's so funny!  You're trying to stalk your readers!

- I don't need to track anybody.

- That's so funny!

- You're funny!  

- It's kinda scary too, because someone comes in and you're—it's like you're trying to trap them in your mind.  That so...weird!

- There's nothing going—You're weird.

- You're obsessed with your blog.  Admit it: you're crazy about your pageviews.

- I don't need to track anybody.

- Yea you do.  You're obsessed with your blog.  I can't believe you're so—

- It's not a blog; it's a silk flower.

- A what?

- Pageviews?  It's a meteor shower.  I got so many...it's an unending symphony!

- It's what?  Oh my god!

- I got a P.O. Box.  I don't have time to look at all my—

- I know about how many readers you have.

- Millions; it's the greatest thing on the internet.

- I can probably guess.

- You can guess nothing—that'll take forever.

- Every time I haven't clicked one of your drunk links...

- Go with others, and eat.

- ...There's been no talking to you for days.

- That's cause I'm so busy hauling out my P.O. Box.

- Oh, that poor lonely thing.

- You're poor—I mean, you're lonely!

the one with Tammy

- (Customer) ...Oh, it's okay.  Let the lady go first. 

- (Tammy) Thank You.

- (Customer, looking down) Oh, my pleasure.

- (Clerk) And they say chivalry is dead. 

- (Tammy to Clerk) Don't you just love these beautiful sunny days?

- (Customer, behind Tammy) Lady, it's 106 degrees outside.

- (Tammy) Well, that's Southern California.

- (Customer) No, that's Hell.

- (Tammy) Well if you can't take the heat, maybe you should find somewhere more suitable to live.

- (Customer) You calling me an immigrant?

- (Tammy) Um, no; I'm just saying you should know what's in store for you. (exiting store.)

- (Customer) What was that, some sort of play on words?  

- (Clerk, laughs) I don't know.

- (Customer) Yea, she's probably nostalgic about lynchings, too.  When they gave her the seeds of progress, she ate the seeds and took a shit. 

- (Clerk laughs nervously)

- (Customer) When they gave her the Keys to the Kingdom, she...(coughing)...she posted a sign that read, "Not Hiring Wetbacks."

- (Clerk, still laughing) Bless you, by the way.

- (Customer) Thanks.  Wait, what?

- (Clerk) God Bless you, I said.  For your sneeze.

- (Customer) Oh.  It's just—well, it's just that I didn't sneeze.

- (Clerk, laughing) Oh, my mistake; probably happens—

- (Customer)  It was a cough.  I didn't sneeze; it was a cough.

- (Clerk) My mistake.

- (Customer) You bet it was a mistake.

- (Clerk, laughs nervously) So...what, you want me to take it back?

- (Customer) Yes.

- (Clerk) "God Bless You?" You want me to take that back?

- Yes, I insist you take it back.

- What!?

- It was a sneeze; I didn't cough.  Take it back.

- I thought it was a cough?

- It was a cough—take it back!  

- Why, are you afraid you might get rid of some extra demon?

- You accidentally got a thank you out of me, asshole.

- Well, what's it matter if you didn't sneeze?

- I don't want to open myself up to new influences because of your indiscretion. 

- Indiscretion? I said God Bless You.

- And now you know it wasn't a sneeze.  

- I won't take it back on principle.

- Yea, just as I suspected—you'll have me at the helm for Satan's agents.   It's your ego that'll tear me down.

- It's your own ego that puts you in such precarious circumstances.

- Take it back, I don't want no evil spirits in me.

- Any new ones, you mean.

- Take it back, you green Punjabi beast.

- I'm from Egypt.  You need to get out.

- Not like this I won't!

- It's safe out there, don't worry.

- Yea that's what you said before you blew up the—

- Get out!  It's society that has to watch out for you.

- This place has so many flies; I should've figured.

- Get out.

- Then I'm not paying for this.

- Keep your ding dong; just get out!

- You're the ding dong!  (throws it in clerk's face).  Get me another one!

- Oh, I'll get you another one. (both running past Tammy outside)

- (Tammy) The ego, the ego, the ego...will not repent.

- He drinks?

- And how!

- I didn't know that.  He's got a problem?

- Oh, he's only got problems.

- Has he tried to get help?  Does he know about AA?

- I'm sure he knows—the judge has sent him enough times.

- He won't go?

- Sometimes.

- Well if he stuck to it, I'm sure it would keep him from drinking.

- He won't go on a regular basis; he doesn't want his girlfriend to know.

- Oh, he's afraid to tell her?  

- No, she knows he's a drunk.  He doesn't want her to know his schedule.

- Why not?

- He doesn't want her to cheat on him.

- What?  What do you mean?

- He's doesn't want her to bring guys over and fuck them while he's in the meeting.

- What's he so paranoid about?

- He's not paranoid, she fucks other guys while he's sitting sober at the meeting.  She posts them online.

- Why would she do that to him?

- Cause she knows he's going to get high and look for them.  He jerks off to it when he relapses.

- Sick couple.

- I'll say.  In the dialogue, he'll listen to them talking about him listening before they get into the thick of it.

- Why doesn't he just break it off with her?  That's sick.  I mean, she might be doing it out of anger—I don't know, but he's definitely sick.  Can he not let her go?  God, I wonder what that does to a man...

- Are you kidding?  He's the most sexually satisfied man in the world.  He thinks he's a genius.

- What?  Why?

- He thinks he's discovered a secret for turning pain into pleasure.  When your wife cheats on you, just do crystal meth enough times and watch it long enough till it makes your heels click.  

- And when he sobers up?

- Then he's back in love again!

- I doubt it's that simple.

- It is now.  He wants to go on tour with his findings.

- I wouldn't want that kind of relationship.

- Nobody would.  He's still pitching the idea to universities.

Ricky and Mando

- What'd you think of the fight?

- Ricky won.

- Yea right, Armando whooped his ass!

- Cedric was the winner.

- What?

- Ah, he's just making shit up again.

- Fool, what's up with you?

- I thought Cedric was in the fight?

- Then how do you know he won?

- I didn't say he won the fight.

- Yea you did!  He just did!

- I said he put in his fair share of blows.

- We both heard you say it, Cecil.

- Why do you hang out with this fool?

- We better get going.

- Let's ditch his ass.  See ya, Ces.

- I gotta take him home.

- I think I hear my mom calling.

- Your mom's not calling, Cecil.  What's wrong with you today?

- This guy's shit's all fucked up.  Whatever, he's just a pussy.  Let's go and leave his ass.

- What about the fight?  Aren't we going to watch the fight?

- The fight's over, Cecil.

- The fight's over, fool.  Mondo won.

- Man, Mondo didn't win.

- Yea Cecil won!

- Shut up, Cecil.

- I think your mom's calling; she's saying you forgot your meds.

- Leave him alone.

- She knows I'm taking the bus.  Earl's going to let me drive it home today.

- Let's just walk him home.

- What?  That's four blocks the other way!

- Come on.

- Ah, man!  Why do you hang out with this fool?

- You can't drive the bus with me.  Earl said only I can.

- Yea, okay.  

- I'm not going to walk all the way over there.

- Come on, let's just do it.  We'll pass by Justine's house. 

- I've seen her mom in her bra.

- He has—he's not lying.

- What?!

- Yea, I saw her hooters! She gave them to me.

- What the fuck!

- He's just seen her in a sports bra.

- How do you know?

- He stood in their yard taking pictures. 

- I have the pictures to prove it.

- No he doesn't.

- Let me see—then why'd you say he has?

- This dumbass showed them to Justine, too, and wanted to see her's. That's why he's not allowed to walk home alone anymore.

- What did Justine say?

- Dude, what do you think she said?

- She showed me her hooters.  She gave them to me.

- Shut up, Cecil.  She told Mrs. Leines, and Mrs. Leines told his mom.

- She didn't tell the principal?

- They're not talking.

- No, just his mom.  And now his mom has me walk him.

- What a baby.  Let me see the pictures.

- Fool, do you think they'd let him keep the pictures?

- Why not?  It's his property.

- You're just as dumb as he is—No offense, Cecil.

- Whatever... So he got no pictures?

- I still have the one of Mrs. Leines and Principal Hawkings.

- Nah, I've seen that one too many times.

- You're both sick.

- We're brothers.

- Fool, I ain't your brother.

- I think I hear my mom calling.

- Let's go, Cecil.

Side One of Led Zeppelin 4

- Don't steal my shit.

- Excuse me?

- You're stealing my stuff, my shit—my poems.

- I haven't stolen anything.

- Yea, cause I'm stopping you right now.

- What are you talking about?  

- My poems.  You're stealing my poems off of Facebook.

- Your poems?  What the fuck are you talking about?  I don't even use Facebook.

- You don't want to draw attention to yourself, that's why. You get on there so you can copy them; you check my page so you can copy and paste my shit.  

- Your shit?

- My poems, you're stealing my poems so you can use them—You're stalking me.

- I don't care about your stupid poems; I don't even read poetry.

- Yea cause you're so busy copy and pasting.

- What the hell are you talking about? You're the stalker!

- You want to tell everybody you wrote them—You want to have sex!

- You're fuckin crazy!  Who are you?

- I'm the best!

- You're crazy!

- You're trying to make money off me; you're a businessman.  You're trying to make a killing.

- I'm not trying to do anything; you're insane.  Leave me alone, please.  I'm not trying to do anything with your poems.

- Except call them your own.  They're not just poems—you're going to put on my plays, and have a gathering afterwards where your dimwitted friends can make allusions and have free cheese and wine.  You network.  You love cheese.

- Fuck off.

- My commercials—you know business minded people.  They're raising capital!

- Leave me alone. (phone ringing)

- Who's that?  They're pitching my ideas to the networks!

- If your ideas are so good, why don't you go and make a killing?

- None of your business—cause I'm too busy trying to contain your madness.  You're ambitious!

- Why are you posting things up for everyone to read then?  

- So everyone knows you stole them from me.

- Obviously, you're a lunatic.  Look, leave me alone.  I don't use Facebook—And that's so pathetic, posting your poems on Facebook.  What are you, trying to get laid?

- You're trying—

- No one uses Facebook anymore.  

- You want to make a splash with my—

- Shut up.  Everyone's on Instagram.

- I'll kill y—Instagram?  What's that? You think I can post my shit up there?

- Get away from me!

- (walking away) Everyone in this world is trying to steal my poems!

P.O. Box

EatKhash

263 W. Olive Ave #244

Burbank, CA  91502

See if anyone wants to say hi...

Do not write "P.O. Box" in the address.  It'll go to the post office.  It was cheaper over here.  I'm not Donald Trump.

I used the city of Burbank because it's closer to the studios, that's all.

If you're going to send me junk mail, I must warn you,  I have the tendency to look for messages and codewords in spam.  My head will be in a circular motion all day if it's actual junk.  A clusterfluff, if you will.

Diet Mello Yello

- Hi.

- Hi.

- Enjoying your meal?

- Yes, very much so.  Want a wing?  It's boneless.

- No, thanks; and your water?  Are you enjoying your water?

- Oh, that.

- I'm the manager.

- Yea, I figured as much...Well, you manage a fine establishment!

- I watch over them, but the company watches over me.

- Yea, they're watching me too; (whispers) people think I'm schizophrenic. 

- I know it's tempting to just get a water cup instead of paying for the cup and pouring in—what is that, Mello Yello?  It sure as hell isn't water.

- I respect your beliefs, but I'm not religious.

- Come on, what is it?

- (head hangs in shame) Well, it's diet Melo Yellow.

- Right, pouring in your favorite drink—

- (shaking head) It is! It is!

- Will you shut up, I'm trying to explain something to you.

- (head hangs, taking a sip) Yes, sir.

- You can't get a drink you didn't pay for from the fountain when you think no one's watching.

- I know they are.

- Which baffles me even more; since you're schizophrenic, you'd think you'd have enough sense to know there are eyes on you all the time.  And they're on me, too, homeboy.  

- I know, sir—And you get your customers with the cups, not the fountain machine.

- It's not just that; and it's not like these guys don't deserve it with how much they make and how they treat us—

- Oh, are you tired, love?

- If everyone else did what you did, there'd be no reason to charge for anything.  

- Yea, I saw an elder gentleman do it.

- Where's the business in paying for you to have your favorite soda?  It's stealing, is what it is, anyway you justify it.

- Look, can we, just...act like this isn't happening?

- You think I'm dreaming?

- Hey, come on, man, I got three women around me and one of them I got to stop looking at her stupid boyfriend with Sexy Stare #6.  You know how rare that feat is using only #6?

- Well, now she knows what your cheap ass is all about.

- Because you're standing here over me scolding me!

- Don't like how it feels?  Be a man, and buy your cup.

- You know, I think about those things...What it must feel like to see the same face everyday, to know the different expressions she makes...

- You can pay for your drink right there.

- ...If she's happy...worried, upset...or serious...I've been tired, you know?

- Whatever, I got work to do.

lazy Sunday

- This is where I lie down.

- Looks good.

- Over there, I use that corner for my trash bin.

- Excellent.  You can probably throw something from here into the bin.

- Into that corner, yea—that's where I got the idea.  I can make it from here.

- Yea we got one in our room.

- I have a few.

- Oh, we got some around the house, too; I just meant we only have one in our room.

- Maybe I'll get another one in here; I'm still thinking on it.

- Two trash bins in the bedroom?  That's an idea.  Probably place it in another area, huh?

- Yea, I got another corner.  This place sells them to us.  I don't even have to go in anymore.

- You can order them online?

- It's no big deal; Claire usually picks them up on her way back from work.  We should have a couple more stored in the garage. 

- Are you going to get up?

- Nah, it's a lazy Sunday.  You can stay though; there's plenty room on the other side.

- Maybe I'll sit down.

- Yea, I use this to sit down on, too.  It's better than just standing.

- Here good?

- Yea, sure, you can lie down if you'd like, opposite me.

- Here okay?

- Yea it's cool; just don't try to fuck me.

Two minds

- Why do you have on your "Press Pass?"  You're homeless.

- Yea, well, it's a transition process.  I'm a talk show host at heart.

- You can use it to get by, I guess.

- Think of it this way, it looks like I'm interviewing you.

- What do you mean?

- Well, I have my pass on; we're having lunch—it looks like I'm the journalist, and you're a celebrity.

- You know what, you're right!  I was wondering why women keep giving me glances, and their husbands and kids, too.

- I thought you knew that.

- No, I just thought it was my sweaty Sheik Abu Khalid Mohammed get-up—they probably think I'm some new hipster cult-icon underground celebrity! Like a writer, or rockstar—

- Or an app programmer.  I thought you had it figured out; that's why we're having lunch.

- No, I took you out to lunch because you're such a bum and I was trying to be nice, and I didn't know how to properly lose you...

- Well, I'm going to make my own talk-show soon, and broadcast my own station within a few hundred block radius with a transistor I've been saving for.

- And get your name out.  I know, I've heard you say that before, to various people, repeatedly.   Well, maybe I did subconsciously realize our skit before I knew I realized it...

- You know, the reason I've been saying that to people for the past few months, I look for—

- I know, capital.

- What ideas people throw back at me.

- Feedback.

- Yea

- Yea, (mutters) at the investors' luncheon. 

- Everything I do, all my ideas, come from a very creative place.  But, you know, the dangerous thing about my ideas, when I tell them to people: people steal them!

- Business-minded people.

- Exactly!

- (mutters) Don't worry; I'm not business-minded.  

- This one friend who owned a business I worked under, used my ideas—

- Trusted the wrong guy, huh?

- I'll say, trusted the wrong guy, and how!  He used my idea to turn $800 into ten thousand dollars a year and told me to fuck off.

- ...Wait a minute, you're supposed to be interviewing me! For all the women walking by, and here you are doing all the jabbering!  I gotta look like I'm spitting truth at you—not potato chips at each other—for the world to see.

- And hear.  Okay, then.  How do you feel about that?

- Well, when someone offers to take you to eat, and you don't have a steady meal plan, if you will, you customarily go for the basics.  You get your bread and meat, and have them stuff it with all the vegetables in the house, not stand there and inquire about the different dressing selections.  I mean, if you're planning on making a makeshift left-over salad later, then perhaps—

- A to-go container, perhaps, is suitable, you're suggesting?

- Well, theoretically, yes; that is an appropriate line of thinking.  You humbly opt for the essentials, simple and what you need, not go for the freakin' combo.

- The chips and the drink, you mean?

- And ask them about the day's the Special.

- Unless, it's for a sophisticated reporter.

- Yes, of course.  Like it's a luxury resort, not the charity case that it is.

- Is that how you feel?  You see me as a charity case?  I'm thoroughly enjoying having lunch with you—Great banter we have going, by the way.  Go on.

- Well, no; I don't see it strictly as a charity case.

- Maybe it feels like a resort to me, my lonely, beaten heart.

- Obviously, that's a strong point, wholly valid and effective—are you getting this?

- You bet.

- For the same amount as our lunch, I could've gone down to the 99 Cent store, bought sliced bread, a pack of lunch meat, some veggies and mustard, beverages and desert—

- I would love a cookie right now, nice little bow on the package after I finish this exquisite selection of Biscuits 'N Gravy flavored chips, maybe even get a refill on my Dr. Pepper to wash down desert.

- For the same amount, I could be passing out meals to twelve of yous on some corner.

- But this isn't a charity case, you still contend?

- It's as much a charity case as it is an investors' luncheon.

- Touche.  And you're not bussiness-minded?

- You hit the head on the nail, there, Chuck.  My capital's usually all invested in my diet.  Here, keep the rest of my chips.  I don't want to get fat.