Just in time for M.O.TH.E.R's day...

I got the day off because my boss brought his family to work. It wasn't because they were going to do all of the work and didn't need me there. They let me go home because they are all nudists on Thursdays and said "all textiles must leave!". You would think that would have a negative impact on sales, but it didn't.

As I was heading home, I noticed a man had set up a booth on the street corner. It looked like he was selling mother's day cards. My mom is cool, so I decided to see if I could find any cards that she would like.

"Hello friend!" he said to me.
"Hi." I said back to him.
"Are you a son of mother?" he asked me.
"Uh...I guess so." I respondified.

He held up a sign that said "Long live M.O.TH.E.R.!" Okay...curiosity piqued.

"What does that stand for?" I asked.
"Why, that's M.O.TH.E.R.! I thought you said you were a son of M.O.TH.E.R.!"
"I thought you were asking if I had a mother. I wanted to buy a mothe--"
"Silence! I shall now explain to you the M.O.TH.E.R.!"
"Couldn't this wa--"

"The Magisterial Order (of) TH(e) Eminent Reign began humbly in the basement apartment of what some have called 'the greatest mind of our time. Since then it has grown to include others! Friend...would you like to come to a meeting?"
"No."
"Excellent!"

With that, I had a burlap sack thrust over my head as I was pulled into the back of a van. We sped away into the afternoon.

When they took the bag off my head, I noticed they also took most of my clothes. I was handed a bath robe and bunny slippers.

"Those who enter must don the garb of M.O.TH.E.R." a burly man said to me.

I put on the robe and slippers and was led into a room lit only by candles, lava lamps, Winnie the Pooh nightlights and a TV that was playing a loop of cereal commercials. There was a table in the middle with a large, dusty book on it. Next to the book was a quill pen and a small jar of ink.

"Sign the guest book, dear." said the burly man. I did sign the guest book. They led me towards another room, where I heard a low drone. When they opened the door, I saw perhaps fifteen to twenty men kneeling in front of a Laz-e-boy recliner set up on cinder blocks. They were chanting in unison.

"Rubber baby buggy bumpers! Rubber baby buggy bumpers! Rubber baby buggy bumpers!"

As they continued to chant, they got louder and louder. It was getting very intense in the room. Yet, the smell of lavender on the plush terrycloth robe I was wearing put me at ease and reminded me of a summer day.

Soon, as the chanting was nearing it's peak of energy, a woman in a Turkish hooded shawl came and lifted her hands.

"It's Mother! Mother wishes to speak!" said the burly man. It instantly became quiet.
"Thank you, dear." said Mother. "Today, we have some new rules that we have implemented. I want you all to pay attention to them."

The room became deathly still. The burly man sat down. He motioned for me to sit as well. "Crisscross applesauce" he informed me.

Mother spoke. "Okay, first of all, let me say how wonderful you have all done with your cards! Sales were up 30% from last week! Except for Frank. His sales went down. So, I'm sorry Frank, but no TV for a week."
"Aw nuts" Frank muttered to himself.
"Now, I have been hearing rumors that some want to leave M.O.TH.E.R. and get an apartment in the city. I would just like to respond to that by saying, you are breaking M.O.TH.E.R.'s heart and we will hear none of it!" She wiped away a tear. So did the burly man.

The meeting went on for awhile longer. During the meeting it was agreed that one hour was enough time for video games, Mother would retain control of the remote, and ice cream was healthy and should be eaten with every meal.

At the end of the meeting it was announced that there was a birthday to celebrate. Mother brought out cupcakes. There was talk of birthday spankings, but Mother said no. She didn't want any rough housing either.

After the cupcakes were finished and the dishes put away, the burlap sack was put over my head again and I was thrown back into the van.

When I got back to my apartment, I built a car that you can drive with your mind.

Moving right along...

The comics will no longer be updated on this site. I have moved them to Tumblr, because I'm hip.

http://michaelmcmullen.tumblr.com

The short stories will probably remain here.

Lucid...

I may have misused the term "existentialist" here. If I did, just convince yourself that the reality you're perceiving is an illusion.

Caffeine!...

What I Know Now...

Two fisted Plinko expert...

"She'll be right with you." the receptionist said. I was there for my first job interview in several years. I haven't lost my current job, but the boss keeps talking about moving (or "being relocated...shhhhhh" as he puts it). Since I don't want to take over the business of selling obsolete computer manuals, I decided I had better get cracking on the job search.

The first thing I noticed about the place was it's complete lack of macabre artifacts of the Visigoths. My boss had been trying to find his "voice" with the interior design of our building. The second thing I noticed was how quiet the office seemed without sporadic crying.

The Human Resources lady came out and introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Pam."
"Hi Pam." I said, shaking her hand. She hadn't extended it yet, so my reach to grab it was a bit awkward. I was trying to be proactive, and I think that came across.

We walked to a conference room in the back. It had one of those long tables with a bunch of chairs around it. The kind you see in movies where bad things are told to the President and he's all like "kill the Russians!" and the other dude is like "but think of the Russians!" and he's all like "Kill!" and stuff.

"Take a seat" she said, pointing to the chairs. I started for the one at the end. "My first test is to see which seat the person picks." I couldn't tell if she was joking, so now I was very conscious of my decision. If I take the seat at the head of the table, she might thing I'm an insurrectionist. If I take a seat way at the end, she might think I lack confidence. If I sit in her lap, the interview will be over before it starts. I sat on the floor.

"Um. Why don't you sit here." she said, pointing to a seat across from her.
"Of course! I will do whatever you want, Pam!" showing the ability to take directions...check.

Two other people, James and Ed, both supervisors, came in. We chatted for a while and then the interview started.

To say it was successful would be an overstatement. And a complete lie. By the end of the interview, James had left, Ed was pouting under the table and Pam quit the company. I asked Ed when he thought I might hear back. He said in about a week and went back to sucking his thumbs.

I was thinking about going for a walk downtown, but the annual Goat Herding Festival was going on. I didn't feel like being around that many people. I was starting to feel a little bummed out.

Would I ever have another job? Would my dream of being a professional bohemian ever become a reality? I decided to go home and watch a couple of movies while I proved the existence of one-way functions.

Interview...

Do over...