Archive for the ‘Make Believe’ category

What girls say to each other about me when I eat alone in the cafeteria of my university

17 Sep 2009

This one is just what the title says. Actual transcript, edited for length and clarity by Hornblower.

Girl 1: Who is that guy over their eating by himself? Look at him brood. He’s probably really intellectual.

Girl 2: I don’t know who he is, but I think I want to sleep with him.

Girl 1: Is he doing the crossword puzzle? I heard Tuesday’s crossword is really hard. He doesn’t even look like he’s having any trouble.

Girl 2: I heard guys who do crossword puzzles have big wieners.

Girl 1: I heard that, too. It’s like the same gene or something.

Girl 2: Look at all those plates around him; he must eat a lot. It looks like he got one of everything. That’s really impressive.

Girl 1: He must be so good at eating.

Girl 2: I think I want to sleep with him.

Girl 1: Look, he’s wearing a tie.

Girl 2: Wow, he probably has a bunch of money. He probably does really cool expensive things all the time.

Girl 1: I’ve never seen him before at any parties around campus. He must be too busy going to exclusive rooftop parties with the Knicks and also with models.

Girl 2: Girl models.

Girl 1: Uh, yeah.

Girl 2: …

Girl 1: I wonder if he’s single.

Girl 2: I don’t care. I will murder to be with him.

Girl 1: I think that’s a little extreme.

Girl 2: No. I will murder you.

Girl 1: I don’t think that would help you in any way.

Girl 2: You quiet down, Girl 1. You just quiet your damn self down.

Girl 1: …

Girl 2: …

Girl 1: Look, he’s getting up. I think he finished the crossword puzzle. Wow, look at his shirt. He spilled sauce all over it.

Girl 2: He probably did it on purpose. As part of an art project.

Girl 1: Yeah, maybe. He looks really arty. Look how tight his pants are.

Girl 2: Awfully tight.

Girl 1: Awfully tight.

Girl 2: He’s getting more food? Uhhh…

Girl 1: Hmm.

Girl 2: Look how long his hair is. Some people would say that he looks like a greasy, dirty cur, but I think it just makes him look European.

Girl 1: He looks like a European footballer. He looks like he plays for the Spanish national team and makes a hundred million Euro a year.

Girl 2: …

Girl 1: You know what, I bet he only eats once a day, that’s why he’s eating so much.

Girl 2: Wow. That’s pretty hip. I think I’ll start doing that.

Girl 1: I bet you won’t, ‘cause you’re fat as hell.

Girl 2: I have told you before that I am prepared to murder you.

Girl 1: Listen, Girl 2. I will fight you in the streets for the right to this man’s heart. I will fight you in the streets, and I will fight you in the gutter.

Girl 2: Let us adjourn, then, to a place of true reckoning, wherein we may this dispute settle. And all our yesterdays have only wrought what we have dreamt to be so, until now the end time of our suffering and our dreams. As it must be, it shall. As created, so destroyed; as forgotten, so recalled.

Girl 1: Damn you, mystery man, man of deepest mystery. The fire of your brooding, solitary mystery touches souls all ‘round you, and there is naught to be done for succor.

Another Dialogue

22 Jun 2009

Reader 2: I’ve grown weary of waiting. My anger rises within me. Anger at Hornblower, and at the world.

Reader 1: He used to be so reliable. So trustworthy. I fear that fame has turned him all topsy-turvy.

Reader 2: I heard he sits all day in the cantina, drinking Land Shark beer.

Reader 1: The Jimmy Buffett beer?

Reader 2: Yes, didn’t you click the hyperlink?

Reader 1: No, I didn’t want to leave this site.

Reader 2: Old feelings die hard.

Reader 1: Your mom dies hard.

Reader 2: What?

Reader 1: Never mind. It’s useless. Hornblower’s the only true comic voice in all the land. We need him.

Reader 2: Forget it, Reader 1. He’s gone home. To roost. We never needed him, you know. He only brought us down. We’re better off without him.

Hornblower: I heard that.

Reader 1, Reader 2, God: Hornblower!

Here’s a dialogue

02 Jun 2009

Reader 1: Hey, Hornblower has been really lazy, lately. Does he just not go to shows any more, or what? Is something wrong with his computer, or his typing hand? Why does he only use one hand to type, anyway? That’s an awful way to do things.

Reader 2: Wow, I don’t know the answers to any of these questions. Literally, not a one. Boy.

Reader 1: Where did Reader 3 go?

Reader 2: Come on, now. There was never a third reader. Hornblower’s lucky he even has us.

Hornblower: I heard that.

Readers 1 & 2: Hornblower!

If Cormac McCarthy wrote for Sports Illustrated

28 Mar 2009

March came sputtering with requisite Madness and brackets and young men worshipped by their peers and fathers. Harsh dusty winds unnoticed outside stadium gates, the multitudes locked inside. Penned in. By their projections and regrets and sadness.

Devendorf rode into Memphis alone. Griffin was already there. Devendorf spoke first, as always.