Gynoid

Some of you might remember that I work in an office with all robots.

Remember?

About 6 months ago I started dating the receptionist. It’s kind of a cute story how we started dating. I mentioned how it was great that they were finally hiring Androids, “It’s good to see a friendly face, or you know even a face at all!” but instead of taking the complement she got really mad, “I’m a gynoid, not an android! Do I look like I was designed to simulate male appearance and behavior to you?” So the next day to apologize I sent her a card saying, “As a human male I can clearly see that you are feminine.” And she sent me a text saying “I accept your offer of courtship.”

That wasn’t really what I meant by the card, but I figured it was worth a shot, after all it wasn’t like I was having much luck with the human females. Our first date went rather awkwardly, I asked if she wanted to go see a movie only to find out that she’s bolted to the floor. She seemed kind of embarrassed about it but I told her I thought it was sexy. I just waited till the office closed and brought some DVD’s to watch on my laptop (and a Chess set but a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell). Things heated up pretty quickly from there and pretty soon we were sending each other little love notes and NP -complete problems to solve. For our 1 month anniversary I bought her one of those super powerful drills and a battery pack and she said it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

Our relationship has had its rough spots, one time she called me at 4:00AM. “I had the most horrible nightmare, I dreamt that our relationship was equal to the sum of a five digit prime and a perfect cube.” When I asked which of us was the five digit prime she said I was “insensitive.” We made up though and now we have a good hearty laugh whenever I say things like, “Well at least we’re not equal to 75,228.”

I know what you’re thinking, and a lot of my friends have told me that this relationship is doomed but, I still think it’s possible for an office romance to work.

FunBox Restaurant Review

This week’s Restaurant Review takes us on a journey underwater. That’s right, submarines. Submarine sandwiches that is!

Subway – Never before has six inches tasted so good and been so fun! Enjoy the down-home flavors of the more traditional Cold Cut combo, or if you are feeling wild try the Italian B.M.T. “That’s a spicy sub!” And now that they’ve added toasting to the sandwich artist’s repertoire their menu has literally doubled! Subway is also a great place for first date because arguing which toppings are best is an instant recipe for fun, just stay away from those onions! 4 Boxes

Quizno's Subs – Those Quizno's Subs, they taste so good to me. I had to double check if this was a restaurant or an amusement park, because boy was it a thrill to watch my sandwich go onto the moving rack a cold boring meal and emerge on the other side a toasted wonderland. An insider tip for big savings is ordering both a drink and a side of potato chips with your sub creating what is known as a “Combo” and what I like to call extra money in the bank! 4 Boxes

ToGo’s Sandwiches – ToGo’s got their name right, I want to take these sandwiches with me everywhere! Of course you might want to bring some friends along to carry their 24 inch family sub. Did somebody say bacon? I did, and sure enough, when I got my sandwich it had bacon on it. Talk about made to order! 4 Boxes

Things we learned while filming a road trip sketch this weekend

A good way to find gorgeous scenery is to look near signs that say "danger rock slides".

When filming a scene where a driver's eyes aren't on the road, the script may call for other riders to feign fear, but often it is very real.

When planning to drive up and down mountains for several hours, consider getting gas first.

A roadside stop suitable for an actor to pretend to pee, isn't necessarily a good place to ACTUALLY pee.

Girlfriends, who haul everyone there in their own car, consent to be filmed in ridiculous costume, or allow you to use their fancy video camera in the rain probably deserve really nice Valentine's presents next year.

Motorcycles tend to ruin audio levels.

No matter how much of a go getter you feel like for waking up early, there's always some asshole already jogging in the mountains.

You Know What We Never Have Anymore? Duels!

Seriously we never duel anymore! All we ever do is just regular-type kill each other. What ever happened to the ritual and grandeur of slapping someone in the face with a glove and then waiting 10 hours to cross swords at dawn? I know what you're going to say, “Duels are illegal.” to which I respond “Duels were almost always illegal! I had no idea you valued you're honour so lightly.” and then you go all cold and say, “I demand satisfaction” and walk away... See it's awesome!

Ok, top 5 dueling weapons of all time.

1. Dueling swords (duh)

2. A pair of sausages, one of which had been inoculated with Cholera (For details see: Bismark, Otto von).

3. Dueling pistols

4. Rattan canes (If you wanna go all Filipino style.)

5. Fisticuffs (ungentlemanly)

I'll have my “Second” send you a myspace with the where and when.

Invite: New Society

Where: Henderson’s Field, Montana
Start: 9:00 a.m.
End: ????

Last Year's New Society

Hey Gang! It's that time of the year again. The time of the year where we all try to throw off the oppressive trappings of “modern society” and start all over again. I know we ran into some issues when we tried to form a new society last year, but hey, what are mistakes but lessons to learn from. Plus, I am sure if Scott were still alive, he would want us all to try again. The world is still in its decadent spiral to destruction and we have the chance to set things straight. RSVP as soon as you can so we can figure out the mating schedule in advance to avoid as many problems this year as possible. Also remember to mark down if you are bringing livestock, a bag of grain (Doritos don’t count as grains Mark!), a wood working tool, or napkins. I will again be bringing fire. See you all there!

Song Meanings: Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer

Once upon a time / Not so long ago /Tommy used to work on the docs...
This song's protagonist is Tommy: who dresses up as one of the dwarves: one of the "Docs," at Disneyland.

Union's been on strike / He's down on his luck it's tough…so tough...
Unfortunately, for Tommy and his peers, the costumed workers have been forced to picket due to unsafe conditions. He's totally down on his luck as dressing up as a cartoon character for a living is a poor resume builder. In the modern workplace, more recruiters often prefer typing and computer skills over the ability to mimic a cartoon little person.

Gina works the diner all day / Working for her man, she brings home her pay / For love… for love...
Things are no better for Tommy's girlfriend Gina, who works at the Disneyland restaurant: Mouse of Pancakes. There are few labor laws there. She must work all day.

She says: We've got to hold on to what we've got / 'Cause it doesn't make a difference /
If we make it or not / We've got each other and that's a lot / For love - we'll give it a shot...
Hang in there, Gina encourages. We'll resolve our labor issues with gun violence.

We're half way there / Livin' on a prayer / Take my hand and we'll make it - I swear / Livin' on a prayer...
May the Lord forgive us for what we're about to do.

Tommy got his six string in hock / Now he's holding in what he used / To make it talk - so tough, it's tough....
Tommy has just traded his guitar for a handgun.

Gina dreams of running away / When she cries in the night / Tommy whispers: Baby it's okay, someday...
Gina expresses regrets about the pending shooting, but Tommy fortifies her resolve.

We've got to hold on to what we've got...
Tommy: "we need to fight for what's ours…"

'Cause it doesn't make a difference / If we make it or not...
"If this goes poorly for us as individuals…others will still benefit from our actions."

We've got each other and that's a lot / For love - we'll give it a shot...
Gina: Eh what the hell, let's do it!

…You live for the fight it's all that you've got…
Disneyland: An adventure!

My first Job in Hollywood

It’s my first job in Hollywood; and it’s exactly the way I imagined it!

INT. BACKLOT SET - DAY

Happy 1950’s style music is playing. The Director, MR. JOHNSON is roaming the Set making sure everything is Just right for the big scene.

MR. JOHNSON
Hm, looks like we could use a few more rainbows in that dream machine! Don’t you think so Jimmy!

JIMMY
(Salutes)
Yes sir Mister Johnson!

MR. JOHNSON
(To another P.A.)
Hey and don’t you think this place could use just a little more fairy dust?

P.A.
(Gives a thumbs up)
Whatever you say Mr. J!

MR. JOHNSON
And how are we doing on that tinsel?

ME
Oh actually the Tinsel guys just called
they said they were going to be about 15 minutes late.

MR. JOHNSON
OH FUCKING TYPICAL! THIS IS FUCKING TYPICAL! WHERE’S SAM! IF I DON’T SEE SOME GODDAMN TINSEL IN THE NEXT 2 MINUTES SOMBODY’S GOING TO BE OUT OF A FUCKING JOB!

FADE OUT.

Insert - 10 HOURS LATER...

We see an exhausted Me slowly walking out to the parking lot. Dejectedly I get on a unicorn and ride it out of the studio and onto the Highway. It is packed with other unicorns and moving very slowly. There is a lot of unicorn smog.

SO ANGRY

One of the chores that we always fight about in the FunBox household is who will have to recycle the cans. We want to do our part and take pollution down to zero, you know, cause saving our planet is the thing to do, but man, the recycling huts in L.A. are terrible. Sure they are sticky, smell bad, and are over run with bees and homeless people, but there is one particular instance which has made me almost give up drinking delicious canned soda and beer all together.

It started off like any other recycling trip. I loaded a ridiculous amount of cans into a shopping cart and reflected that man, FunBox drinks a lot of delicious canned soda and beer. I wheeled it over to the little recycling hut, waves of putrid sweetness hanging heavy in the air. At one deposit it machine there was a line two people deep. The other machine was beeping furiously with a “Out of Order” message flashing on its display. I got into line.

The gentleman in front of me turned to me in a pleasant enough manner and gave me the universal recycling cans is a pain nod. I nodded back and went back to thinking about anything other than the fact that it smelled like the inside of a trashcan. The woman at the front of the line was furiously shoving cans into the hole when she let out an “Oh no.” This machine had started beeping with an “Out of Order” message too. She wheeled her half full cart sadly away.

The gentleman in front of me turned back to me shaking his head in disbelief, “This always happens. They really need to take better care of these machines. I mean every time I’m here they break. It just makes me SO ANGRY!” It was at this point that he hulked out. He flipped over his shopping cart and sent cans flying everywhere with a deafening rattle. Looking around for the next item to feel his wrath, he grabbed the nearby trash can and hurled it at the hut. He was SO ANGRY.

I gripped my cart hard and tried to slowly back away without attracting attention to myself. Silently I slipped away as the rampage went on, thankful at that moment that I had avoided wearing any bright shiny objects that day.

You’ll now understand why when it’s my turn to do the recycling I tiptoe up to the hut and leave the bag a couple feet away like some sort of green minded Santa. Screw the $1.35.

Introduction Etiquette

When meeting new groups for the first time, it’s always a good idea for introductions to be made in order of who should be saved in the event of a natural disaster. That way when such an event occurs, no one is confused as to whether *met* a person first, or if they’re supposed to *save* them first. That’s also why I’m so quick to offer handshakes to strangers.

What Man was Not Meant to Know!

If science fiction has taught us anything, it has taught us that there are some things man was not meant to know! Funbox has compiled a complete list of all the things Man was not meant to know. If you do know these things, then our hearts go out to you.

1.A particle's exact location and speed.
2.Whether or not your brother gives a good blowjob (I'd give your brother a C+ but I'm not objective).
3.Who would win in a fight, Superman or Jesus (Funbox does give 3-1 odds on Jesus though).
4.Why We mustn't allow stem cell research (Something to do with “Ghost babies”).
5.Why Gandalf didn't just use those Giant Eagles to drop the ring into Mount Doom and save everyone all the hassle.
6.What flavor those “Great White Shark ” fruit snacks were. (Some kind of berry?)
7.What was in all those other boxes at the end of Raiders of the Lost Arc (The good parts of Star Wars Episodes 1-3).
8.Why robots feel the need to resort to violence when they destroy their masters, and aren't simply happy making us obsolete (Cylons, Terminators relax! We'll be dead soon enough).
9.How many abortions your Mom had before you were born (4).
10.Why Wash had to die. (Spoiler alert!)

Woman, however has always known 2-6.

The Showdown

Eureka! We have toilet paper! The amazing sight before his eyes, that of two-ply rolled around a cardboard cylinder would have been much less astounding at most times of his life. These were special circumstances, however.

For the past two and a half weeks, Josh and his roommate had been locked in a bitter struggle over who would purchase replacement for that long forgotten roll, a roll which now seem to have existed only in the distant past.

Indeed, the previous occupant of the spindle – a wall mounted servant to King John – was now the stuff of legend. "Four ply she was, a roll that stretched farther than even a horse could travel between two moons. And soft. Soft as a lover's bosom." At least that was how Josh remembered back when he and his roommate had been blessed with such silken finery.

This fierce drought had taken its toll. For half a month, Josh had treated his own bathroom strictly as a place for showering and liquid relief. He was careful that the two tasks never mixed, and prayed daily that his roommate maintained a similar policy.

Now though, he'd finally be able to use this room of his two bedroom flat to his full advantage. The possibilities, while certainly not endless, had obviously increased. Best of all, he was the clear victor in the cold war of toilet paper. Last night the other man must have blinked, or wiped, he thought, as the roll was nearly finished.

"It doesn't matter though," thought Josh while finishing his business, still needing a few more squares to be truly satisfied with his work. "I've won. Score one for the red team!" Josh had no particular reason for his affinity for the phrase "red team," but this didn't matter.

Now in all his "red team not wanting to purchase community bathroom supplies out of simple principle" glory, he looked to the top shelf for the rest of the now opened tissue products. But only disappointment followed.

He examined the single slip of paper with its glum message:


-Josh
didn't have time to tell you. ganked half a roll from Allison downstairs. We really need more when you get a chance.

-Rob

Great. What now? He crumpled the green slip of paper and looked down at his hands. Fortunately, frustration had provided his answer.

Hey you! Let’s get famous together!

These days, probably the most important thing in the world when judging a person is whether or not that individual is famous. The famed are better than the rest of us, and are thus allowed live by a different set of rules.

Then there’s you and me: one cares if we’re hired, or fired, or tossed out of an airplane. No one would mind if we were attacked by bears, or eaten by sharks, and if you and I happened upon some sort of mythical beast and it devoured our flesh? Well people wouldn’t give a friggen rat’s ass about that either. Because we’re not famous, and no one gives a damn about us and our not-fame!

That’s right. You and I are the furthest thing possible from famous, and thus don’t even merit the air we breathe. In fact, I’ve been holding my breath a lot lately. Have you? I know! We’re supposed to nowadays, because otherwise we’d be taking up all that air for the famous, and you and I definitely don’t fit into that category. Have you been cutting back on water too? I haven’t seen us in a flashy magazine. Photographers don’t hide in our bushes and harass our loved ones. So it seems we’re not important. I think there’s like a law where we have to practice conservation to preserve our limited resources for the famous community: community to which we most definitely do NOT belong.

Come to think of it, not being famous also means we’re also probably not supposed to be dreaming. Who’s to say there’s not a set amount of dreams to go around? If that’s the case, won’t we get in trouble if any of our nonfamous hopes, goals, or wishes get in the way of the big important exciting ones of the famed set? Won’t we get yelled at if our struggles for meaning, happiness, and love interfere in any way with a famous person’s exactly identical but infinitely more important ones?

So yeah, I guess you and I only have two options. We could refrain from living our own lives and make extra sure to fixate upon theirs, all the while knowing the famous are the best people possible and acknowledging that they are like us only more special, more human, and more sculpted of divine. Or we could go with my other plan.

I was thinking: let’s just go kill somebody. Killers are like the most famous people of all! And if anyone deserves fame it’s us. So how bout it? Let’s just go kill somebody. It’s about time that we got special too!

Fronier House - Synopsis

Have you ever wondered what life was really like for pioneers living in the American West during the late 19th century? Could a modern-day family handle an earlier time's lifestyle?

Week 1
Man: It was a simpler time back then.

Woman: I think people were closer to nature. Today, with all our distractions we tend to forget how beautiful mother nature can be; It's wonderful

Man: Yeah, it feels so good to work with your hands.

Week 2
Man: Well one thing I will say: The food is sub-par.

CUT TO Montage of woman waking up 2 hours before dawn, cooking until noon, and her resulting shitty, shitty food.

Woman: You will eat and enjoy this biscuit, Goddammit! (She bursts into tears).

Week 3
Man: It was interesting to see how they made wagon wheels.

Woman: (Has meningitis)

Week 4
Man realizes that all human history before the 1920's had racism so rampant that even different kinds of white people found reasons to hate each other, they decide they don't like “the Irish.”

Woman realizes that few people went 'un-raped.'

Aftermath
Man and Woman get divorce. Child learns to live life missing a hand.

I don't think I've ever seen more poignant proof that everyone who lived before 1987 was completely miserable.