The Lost Blogs (3 page)

If you’ll just start to light this fire

Come on baby, light the fire

Come on baby, light the fire

It appears as if you’ve lit the house on fire

You know that I will probably sue

You know that I’ll call you a liar

All I’ll say is, “Baby, shoo”

This damage is all from your damn fire

Come on baby, light the fire

Come on baby, light the fire

Yes, you started one big fire

Yes, you started one big fire

Yes, the situation’s dire

Yes, you started one big fire

—

Really, I’m feeling it. Poetic, isn’t it? Thoughts are welcome!

From:
http://www.jacksonpollock.org/~blog/

Subject:
No Milk

I woke up this morning and I quickly ran downstairs because I was thirsty and when I’m thirsty you know I’ve gotta have something
to drink so did I mention I ran downstairs, not really running but sort of walking with a skip which is a half run, but kind
of a walk and I got myself down to the kitchen where my wife Lee was already sitting at the kitchen table eating some toast
which I by the way am really a fan of and also drinking a great big glass of milk. Well, you can imagine when I asked Lee
where the rest of the milk was she just looked at me with this look on her face, the kind of look that the cat who has just
eaten the mouse or some big piece of food that fell on the floor below the kitchen table (which has happened before believe
it or not) because Lee had accidentally but on purpose finished all of the milk without thinking that I would like to come
downstairs after a late night of painting and have a drink of milk myself well you can imagine her response to me turning
the kitchen table on its back and causing the milk and the flowers and her books to fall all over the place and to tell you
the truth I was glad that I did it because if I can’t have milk then she can’t have milk and it sort of ends up being an equal
situation for two people like us who are out of milk.

I think I just heard Lee get in the car to go get more milk.

Just what kind of milk she’s going to get well I told her the kind that she should get and while she was at it I suggested
her possibly getting a loaf of bread because what we have sitting on our kitchen counter is at least two weeks old and it’s
just not that often that we leave the property to fill the kitchen with the items that we so desperately need yet I find it
ironic that although we need such items desperately that we instead choose to starve ourselves and fill our bellies with the
likes of vodka and rum and scotch instead which I’m not fully complaining about but which I find ironic as I previous mentioned.

I’m feeling a tad tired today mixed with a little bit of fatigue which really I can’t quite figure out why a feeling like
that is overwhelming me…

Sure it may have something to do with being up all night working on my latest painting which if you’re curious which some
of you have been which has come my way as a result of many e-mails all asking what I’m working on well let me tell you that
this latest piece has red and black and blue and white and orange and a gray color and some white/black areas and something
that looks a little bit like a banana after its been sitting on a street fora few days and a bunch of other mixtures of the
previous colors into splashes and stripes and little dots and some bigger dots and some halfway in the middle dots which is
the kind of dots that most painters don’t employ cause who wants to use a medium dot when you can go really small or really
huge and a collection of other colors which I don’t want to reveal at the moment for fear of giving away exactly what it looks
like.

More later, when I have more energy.

From:
http://www.alexanderthegreat.com

Subject:
The Greatest Blog in the History of Blogs!

This is the greatest blog ever.

I have seen other blogs and I must be honest in telling you all that this blog would crush all other blogs if they were given
weapons and set against each other in a blog-like coliseum of sorts. In fact, if this blog was unarmed and was put face-to-face
in a battle with other blogs that were all given some kind of heavy weapon, this blog would still destroy all other blogs.

That’s a pretty great blog (one that can destroy other armed blogs with its bare hands) if you ask me which you probably are
asking at this very moment, which is why I’ve answered. Because had I not answered, well, this blog would not be as great
as we all know it is.

It’s not that I have any ill will to heap upon other blogs…

No, yes I do.

I loathe all other blogs because they cannot ascend to the greatness that the great Alexander the Great Official Blog has
reached. They may only wish to become a great blog as this one has become, and let good enough alone. This blog is the ultimate
of all blogs and any blog that challenges this blog will find their text destroyed in a pile of… text. Er, or bloody something
… in a blog kind of way.

As this blog is the greatest blog in the world, I have established a variety of other great services for you, the great readers
of the greatest blog in the world. They include (links are below):

The Greatest Blog’s Greatest Forum in the World

The Greatest Blog’s Greatest Picture Gallery in the World

The Greatest Blog’s Greatest Links in the World

The Greatest Blog’s Greatest Background Theme Music in the World

The Greatest Blog’s Greatest Classic Posts About Being So Great

Pictures of Me. Alexander the Great

A Link to the Greatest E-mail Address in the World

Thank you, again, for visiting the greatest blog in the world. (Although, really, I shouldn’t be thanking you, but you should
be thanking me for the great experience you are currently taking part in.)

One last note: To
[email protected]
who wrote, “
Your blogeth sucketh, all you do is talk about yourselfeth!
” I would like to officially declare war on ehrudt’s family and household, which I will destroy upon finding out just where
ehrudt lives.

From:
http://www.blogs.com/rodserling/

Subject:
Nightmare at 20,000 Feet

It’s been some time since I’ve written here on the blog, as I’ve been inundated with
Requiem for a Heavyweight
, which you’ve all sent wonderful e-mails to me about. Thank you for the kind words, it was an amazing experience as you can
very well imagine.

But I didn’t plan on using this space to talk about working with Jack Palance or the problematic nature of live TV. Instead,
something curious happened to me on my flight back home, of which I’d like to share.

I was sitting in the business class section of the airplane, wedged in between a nice old woman and a window. It was, unfortunately,
a stormy night, and the plane was being pushed and pulled in a variety of directions. My neighbor, a woman of about sixty-five,
was none too pleased with the turbulence but found her salvation in a pair of very strong drinks which quickly removed the
worry from her face. Soon after, she was three sheets to the wind and off in her own world of slumber.

As for me, sitting in the darkness of the cabin, my eyes turned toward the window next to me. Looking out into the night sky
on such a rainy night, there was little to see. It struck me deep inside, the idea that anything could be out there. And then,
it happened…

“
That will be one-fifty
,” a woman’s voice said.

I turned, and you can imagine my surprise when I saw the stewardess, with her outstretched palm, asking for money.

“
But I didn’t order a drink
,” I told her.

“
It was right there
,” she demanded. “
I saw it right there on your tray
.”

Yet there was no drink there. I had not seen a drink. A bottle. Nothing. Yet she insisted she had seen it with such determination,
it was scary.

“
I saw nothing
,” I told her. “
And I didn’t order a thing
.”

Then my neighbor was awakened by the discussion and she, too, weighed in on the situation. She chimed in that she had seen
it as well. Before long, it became an eerie conversation about whether I had seen it, if it had mysteriously appeared then
disappeared, and whether I was insane. The stewardess, on the other hand, was getting extremely volatile.

“
So, you’re telling me I’m crazy
,” she ranted. “
That I’m seeing things?
”

“
No, not crazy
,” I told her. “
Maybe just a little bit fatigued? Overworked?
”

You could see the beads of sweat rolling down her face as she struggled with the thought.

After another fifteen minutes of arguing and a few additional stewardesses joining in on the mystery of the phantom vodka
bottle, I gave in and paid the money. My sleep was worth much more than such a strange and eerie argument.

And as I drifted off to sleep, 20,000 feet above the ground, I turned my mind to what my next writing or producing project
might be. But honestly, the events that had just transpired had sucked the creative juices out of me. My mind was a blank
…

When I get back home, maybe then an idea will hit me.

From:
http://www.jimmyKblog.com/
^*

Subject:
The Latest

I believe it has been some time since I’ve updated my blog. As you can imagine, things have been awfully busy down at my job
where I have been working extremely long and arduous hours.

I have, however, continued to receive a wide array of e-mails from a wide array of attractive young women who have been so
kind to have included high-glossy pictures of themselves in their native locales. To answer all your questions—no, I cannot
answer each and every one of your letters and so instead I would like to direct you to my
FallinLove.com
Profile
. For those who do not have access to FallinLove.com, you can read my personal profile below (although I strongly encourage
all you ladies to sign up for
FallinLove.com
so we may exchange confidential correspondence):

“
I am a dedicated man with strong beliefs, but not so strong that we can’t become close friends. I like long walks in the rain,
or along the beach, as long as it’s just you and me. I’m not into sharing and I especially don’t like to be the third wheel—if
we’re going to hang out it’s got to be just you and me. Confidentially, I don’t like cameras or digital photography but I
do like pictures of you. You’re beautiful. You love being with a man like me, who can crush large countries at will—at least,
metaphorically it feels that way. Although I love to travel, I would never ever willingly go to places like Russia or Cuba.
I believe in true democracy and honesty, as long as it won’t get anyone in trouble. I enjoy pets, children and believe in
commitment, although I may not be currently ready to settle down. Above all, you want to be with me no matter what time it
may be (like, in the middle of the night) or where it might be (like, in a flea bag of a motel… haha)—it’s about spending
time with each other, no matter the laws that I enforce. My job is important, of course, but not more important than spending
time with you. E-mail
[email protected]
if you’re interested
.”

Please, continue to send your pictures if you’re interested in being with a guy whose influence cannot be matched in all of
the free world and who would gladly rescue you from a sinking U-boat (figuratively, of course)! Okay, that was just a line,
but you know what I mean.

Sorry about not having any pictures available of myself just yet—still trying to figure out how to upload to the site. Computers
can be so
confusing
!

Best-

JimmyK!

From:
http://www.washington.com/~george/

Subject:
My Birthday!

Of all the presents I could have possibly hoped for, my father and mother were nice enough to have given me just what I have
been dreaming of.

An axe. A brand-new, shiny axe.

Well, of course I am quite sure you would have done the very same thing I did, had your mother and father presented you with
a brand-new axe. That being, of course, to sharpen the edge and prepare one’s self for a test of the hardware. And I did just
that.

After sharpening the axe back in the stable, I hiked up behind the farm where I found myself face-to-face with one of the
larger fruit trees on my family’s plantation. It was quite large, yet so was the blade of the axe… You can imagine my excitement
as I let my strength transfer to the axe’s blade.

I chopped and I chopped and I chopped. Quite stunned, I was, watching just how little the axe affected the trunk of the tree.
But I labored on, eventually reaching the halfway mark and causing the huge fruit tree to waver. A few more hits and the tree
made a deafening sound as it crashed to the ground.

My father was none too pleased as he rushed alongside me, surveying the damage.

Yet my father is a good soul—one with a knowledge of many things, and he turned to me, looking at my hands (which still grasped
the axe) and down at the tree and back up at my eyes, and told me that the tree which had fallen at my hands was now close
to death. And the fruits it bared, cherries to be exact, would have to be used immediately. “
In a pie
,” said my father. “
And you will have to help eat them
.”

Well, my father was not aware but I had just been served an enormous meal mere hours prior, and my belly was filled to the
brim.