Rejected: An Ongoing Series

In what will be a depressingly recurring feature, I'm going to post here bits-o-funny that were rejected by other outlets. Luckily, my outlet takes all bits. Wait a second.

Up first, a McSweeney's-style list compiled by the Brothers Poppy that was rejected in the McSweeney's style by a McSweeney's publication. They are so polite and earnest and encouraging in their rejection that you just want to strangle a balloon. Maybe that's just me.

Anyway, one Poppy was responsible for the funniest entries, and one Poppy was responsible for the worst, and I'll just leave it at that. But you know who you are, Poppy.

Breakfasts (by Nick Poppy, Seth Poppy and Dan Poppy)

Breakfast of Champions: Wheaties
Breakfast of Former Champions: Cream of Wheaties
Vonnegut’s Breakfast of Champions' Breakfast of Champions: Martini
Breakfast of Michael Phelps: One bong hit, twenty Egg McMuffins
Breakfast of Godzilla: Tokyo
Breakfast of Tough Guys: People like you
Breakfast of Nerds: Nerds
Breakfast of French people: Croissants
Breakfast of Lumberjacks: Two pancakes, two eggs, two sausage links, two bacon strips, a grilled ham slice, home fries, and toast
Breakfast of monkeys: Bananas

This writing thing

I don't do enough of it as I should. Rather, I don't write as much as I would like. In the grand scheme of things - where grand=inevitable, scheme=death, things=everyone (TGIF!) - there's nothing I should or shouldn't be doing. There's a life lesson: There is no should, only would.

Ahem, sorry.

Writing, as I see it, requires a few steps: Pay attention to the steady stream of nonsense racing through one's head, have the sense to pluck out the few bits that won't terrify the general public, then stop dicking around and write them down.

This blog exists, as much as a poorly maintained, unread, free Web site can, to make with the funny about sports 'n such. But sometimes I want to crack wise about corn subsidies and the latest antics of that rascal Hugo Chavez, god dammnit. Oh, and the way armrests are clearly not to be used by anyone except for the person at the end of the aisle. Get out of my personal space, you lousy mouth-breather.

So let it be so.

God, don't we all feel better now? It's like the air is lighter, and the Phillies didn't actually acquire Pedro Martinez (See? Still with the sports!).

So. OK. Here we go.