Hi, I'm Back

Hi everyone, I'm back. Did you get a good enough look at that tooth growing out of a thumb? If I told you my creative battery needed recharging would you believe me? What if I were Jonny Depp and I told you that? Yeah, I thought so.
Anyway, I'm back and I just want you to know it's not your fault I've been gone so long. No listen, it's not your fault.
Matt Damon: Yeah, I know man.

-Good Will Hunting

Woah, did Good Will Hunting just happen? Ok, so I bet you've been wondering obsessively what I've been doing with my time in the last two months, other than blind mayonaisse/miracle whip taste tests. Well, I've been writing a book with my very talented friend David Dineen-Porter, and I thought I'd share with you an excerpt. It deals with a fake disease that we're calling Crivits right now. Once it's published I look forward to all of the reviews undoubtedly remarking on our "absurdist wit". I also look forward to all of you remarking on our "absurdist wit".
Also here is David Dineen-Porter's amazing pilot tv show L'Brondelle's Universe, you will like it definitely.


Throwing a Crivit Friendly Party

Have you ever been to a party with very little music, and very little amount of snacks? Of course you haven't! Well, get used to it. The "party" setting, or "get-together" setting opens a figurative bag of things you wouldn't want to find in a bag (problems) for the Crivits sufferer.

-Shrimp.

A crivit man or lady is completely able and encouraged to eat shrimp. Hmm, good news right? Well, not so fast (no, not good news), in the excitement of a social rendezvous setting, the sight of shrimp is one that reacts badly with this one specific part of the brain*. In 98 percent of Crivits cases, a shrimp at a party will immediately be mistaken for a crescent moon. "Big Deal" you say, or some other types of you might say "Big Whoop." (the sassy type) and to you I ask this, have you ever seen sixty of the earth's moons displayed around a dish of red sauce? I didn't think so. Let me also ask you this, have you ever seen twenty-five grown men and ladies kneeling on the ground, screaming drool, heads cocked toward the sky for an answer as to why they just saw sixty of the earth's moons seemingly ready to be dipped into a reddish sauce? I have, and let's put it this way, some of them didn't "make it"... to the washroom... to pee (they peed their pants). Let's also put it this way, some of them didn't "make it"... (they died).

Fun Solutions: Blindfold Shrimp Games.

Even normal humans play the classic game of 'pin the tail on the donkey'. Here's a modern Crivits take on that old classic game.

1. Tell whichever Crivits guys you know to play that dumb game.

2. Tell them there's shrimp as a consolation prize for all of the people who don't win (lose).

3. Tell them they obviously all don't win because they have a disease that prohibits the use of their arms whilst sight functions are incompacitated.

4. Tell them to eat the shrimp off of the cold rubber-like table cloth with their cold rubber-like faces.

5. Have fun!



*The shrimp/moon effect has not yet been quantified by those who study the brain (brain studiers). It's proof is largely anecdotal, like that time I saw all that stuff, and is portrayed in a book that Walt Whitman thought about writing.**

**I heard that but don't quote me on it, but tell people it, but not as a quote by me, but say you heard it was definitely true. Tell them the person who told you is your uncle who is the dean of a university.***

***Let me know if your uncle has any employment for me in his university, teaching or even as an actor/photographer to spy on his students to find out which ones he should kick out, I have a new cannon x250.

Illustrat-pion(pun)

An Inconvenient Tooth

Rum pum pum.

tdh.

J.J. Salinger

Hi guys, it seems due to my reputation in the literary community, I've ended up on this guy's mailing list.


Dear potential buyer,

My name is J.J. Salinger, I am the little known son, and executor to the estate of the great American writer J.D. Salinger. As you know my father was last published in 1965, but continued to write vigorously in relative seclusion until his recent death.

Of late, I have been working to get this previously unpublished work out to the public as I feel it wrong to deprive the fans any further. As you can imagine most of the work has not been hard to find a home for, there are, however a few rare items that the major publishing companies have deemed, "not polished enough" or "inappropriate". While they are entitled to their opinion, I believe that these historic pieces of literature should be seen. For these reasons I am opening the purchasing rights to you, the public.

The first item up for sale is a shoebox full of letters from my late father to me, I present to you some selected passages of a sample letter from this collection that could be yours:


Dearest J.J.,

By entrusting you the responsibilities of soul executor of my estate, I faithfully put my legacy in your hands. I know you will serve me well in my unwavering wish to let my work die with me. It is of the utmost importance, so that my soul can rest in peace in the afterlife...

...Please allow me to reiterate, upon my death all of my unpublished work is to be shoveled into a very large fire. Any pages that have not been successfully reduced to ash, should then be put into a hole in the ground and covered with compost...

...Please do not perceive any humor in what I write. I know that I can trust you, my favourite son, with this most important of tasks.

I love you very, very much,

Dad (J.D. Salinger)


As you can see, dad never let go of his acerbic wit and flair for the dramatic. This letter in it's entirety and over thirty more can now be yours or your organizations. Please help me to end the deprivation of the true fans of dad's indelible work, or keep it for your private collection. As a wise man once said, let's make a deal.

The second collection on the docket is a series of short stories written some time in the mid 2000's. This was a trying time for dad, he believed himself to be suffering from a terrible case of what he called "writer's block", and claimed to be having some problems with his "memory". For the entirety of the year, everything he wrote was crumpled into a ball and thrown into a trash basin or "waste bin". Luckily, so as to deprive the world no longer, I was able to retrieve a number of these short stories. They have been professionally restored (un-crumpled) and now are available for you to own.

As many a tormented genius, my father's own self-criticism was hard for him to quiet, but I think you'll see this is great stuff, classic dad.


The Glass Family Barbecue
By J.D Salinger

The Glass family go to the Barbecue, and they are all very smart but very sad. Now imagine some of that dialogue I'm famous for.
Do you think this is good? Like American classic good?
Then Ritchie Tanenbaum shows up, and he's in love with Margot. Wait, I invented that family right? So then Ben Stiller does some things and Holden Caulfield shows up, he says, "Oh man, people are the goddamn worst." Do you find this relatable if you're a youth?


For sale! Own a piece of the J.D. Salinger canon now! Thank you for your time potential buyer, any and all pricing inquiries can be sent to my personal email: jjsalamander@hotmail.com.


With love and squalor, (phrase for sale, contact J.J. Salinger)


J.J. Salinger

The Farm

Oh, hi guys, I made this short film (video) about a sad guy. Hopefully, once you see how handsome I am, you will still be able to take my writing intelligence seriously. The video also features the great Katie Crown. Have a watch mon (Jamaican).

Guy's Night Out

Did you think I turned into a Gary Larson and then died? You were wrong, but almost right.

I've just returned from Hollywood, in Los Angeles, I was there for the Academy's Awards. After the ceremonies I went out on the town with a couple of my pals, the evening's hosts, Steve Martin and the only remaining Baldwin, Alec. They kept saying it was a "guy's night out" and that even though they both had high powered agents, tonight they were "free agents" looking to sign on to "any indie project they could find." They said they were looking for the "Diablo Cody of women." They said they would "Write HER screenplay, and they weren't talking about Juno if you knew what they meant." I didn't know what they meant. They also alluded to "chasing tail" every five or six minutes. I didn't know what that meant either. After a while it became evident, here are some of the things I heard them say on guy's night out.

"My hair's been white since I was twenty, so I could be twenty."

"Have you seen Shopgirl? My character dates a younger woman, about your age, and my character is about my age. I based it on a true story, a true story from the future. It's based on you, you and me."

"You're much prettier than Claire Danes. You are Claire Danes? Oh, nevermind."

"Facelift? I'm just a comedian, why would I get a facelift? To get a part in Cheaper By The Dozen? Yeah right. Yeah you're right.

"You like 30 Rock? I'll buy you thirty rocks, thirty diamonds... No, that was for the sake of poetry, but I'll buy you one or two."

"Here's a picture of my daughter... Oh that picture next to her? That's what I used to look like."

"Remember when I was great? Ok, keep remembering it. Keep rememebering it. Keep Remembering it. Keep remembering it. Keep remembering it. Keep remembering it..."

"Did you see us host the Oscars? Wasn't it funny when we made fun of each other? We actually really like each other. Do you like us each other?"

"Have you seen The Shadow?"

"If you say I'm washed up one more time... I'll keep sitting here cause you're pretty and I think you're really beautiful."

"You're not impressed by money? I'll impress you with my acting then. What should I act like?"

"Yes we were in It's Complicated. You know what's not complicated? Your eyes. They are simple, simply beautiful. Hang on I'll make a call. Nancy, can you make a movie called It's Simple, Simply beautiful? Starring.. what's your name sweetheart?"

Draw Joke

No strings attacked.

Pinocchio's Epiphany

Alternate title: The time Pinocchio said something bad about Sandra Bullock.

Note: Meant to be wood chips at the back, not blood, unless you're into that kind of thing.

Love you,

tdh