Points in Case http://www.pointsincase.com Enlightening & Irreverent Comedy Tue, 23 May 2017 12:15:00 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=4.7.5 An Open Letter to a Distracting Member of Our Nudist Colony http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/an-open-letter-to-a-distracting-member-of-our-nudist-colony http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/an-open-letter-to-a-distracting-member-of-our-nudist-colony#respond Tue, 23 May 2017 12:15:00 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=33928 Dear Sir (although it seems grotesque to even deem you as such),

I have been an esteemed member of Salty Waves Nudist Community for the last 15 years, and during that time, I have served as chairman, board president, director of operations, head lifeguard, and snack shack supervisor–in that order. I have never had to confront a fellow member about their conduct on our premises. Until now.

Lacking a way to eloquently state my grievance towards you, I will simply come out and say it:

Your abnormally large penis has made it uncomfortable for everyone here.

Although we could not be more open with nudity and the human form, it honestly seems like you are a member here exclusively to showcase your… endowment. And while there is nothing wrong with this from a legal standpoint, I think I can speak for everyone when I say, “We get it. You’re blessed. But for the love of god, please put that thing away!”

The way you strut around, with your head held high and your member swinging in the wind is a perfect example of the type of clientele we’re not trying to attract. We prefer our members keep their heads down and their privates tucked and shiftless. Numerous complaints have been filed against you, each and every one citing your overbearing presence as a total distraction to the various activities we have to offer.

If I had one wish granted to me by a genie, it’d be to blur out your genitals in real life.

While we do understand that you cannot possibly be persecuted by your mere presence alone, what we do struggle with is the fact that the shadow of a certain part of your body is continually blocking sunlight from our resident sunbathers. Please understand that our community is the only place most of our members can rely on to get a full body tan. The burden of uneven tans falls on your shoulders.

Salty Waves Nudist Community prides itself on the countless couples that have memberships here. They view our establishment as a safe haven, in which they can mutually, and harmoniously, grow in their loving relationships. Your, um, manhood parading around the community is a direct threat to these relationships.

The fleeting looks from the wholesome female members and the intense jealousy from our male members have caused quite the shift in the general atmosphere. Through the last few months, I have personally watched over a dozen different couples–whom, I should note, couldn’t have been happier in their relationships prior to your joining the club–feud with each other in such bombastic ways that it felt like I was watching an episode of reality TV.

Honestly, this was worse than any reality show because at least on TV, they’d blur out the genitals. If I had one wish granted to me by a genie, it’d be to blur out your genitals in real life.

Appealing to potential new members, along with maintaining a solid relationship with our current and past members is important to us. We take it seriously. Of the various ways in which we get ourselves out there, brochures and social media, namely Instagram, have been the most effective. At the end of the day, photographs featuring our facilities, the activities we offer, and of course our members is what seals the deal.

Lately, our resident photographer has experienced an unparalleled frustration as nearly every single photograph he takes, somehow, features your penis romping around, arrogantly oscillating and undulating and accidentally(?) photobombing almost his entire catalog of photos. Additionally, we are on thin ice with the folks at Instagram, as our posts keep getting reported, and so we’ve been under threat of account termination for the last several weeks. It’s a very stressful time for us, and it’s exclusively because of you.

Since you technically are not doing anything against the club’s rules, all I can do is make you aware of my objections to the way you conduct yourself, and pray each night that this barrage of human flesh make a permanent exit from my life once and for all.

Perhaps not everyone deserves to belong to a nudist colony.

Sincerely (and I cannot emphasize that enough),
Dan Petersen
Snack Shack Supervisor
Salty Waves Nudist Community

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Our Dissident Art Needs Continued NEA Support to Expose the Meaningless Striving of People with Regular Jobs http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/our-dissident-art-needs-continued-nea-support-to-expose-the-meaningless-striving-of-people-with-regular-jobs http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/our-dissident-art-needs-continued-nea-support-to-expose-the-meaningless-striving-of-people-with-regular-jobs#respond Mon, 22 May 2017 19:00:42 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=33902 WE REPRESENT avant-garde painters, sculptors and performance artists who reject tradition like a starving man rejects a force-feeding of putrid left-overs. Yet to continue to make art that exposes the meaningless striving of people with regular jobs, we rely on funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. With such funding now imperiled, we issue this manifesto.

WE REJECT beauty. We reject truth. We reject Art that seeks to inspire or uplift the viewer. We reject the ability to draw a cat that looks like a cat.

WE EMBRACE only one aesthetic question: If Art is a pointless Mess, what is the difference between a Mess and Art? Answer: Funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. Without funding, a Mess is simply a Mess. Only with government funding from an Arts organization is a Mess transformed into Art. And so we demand continued NEA funding. But we will NEVER clean up our Mess.

WE DESPENSE with conventional language, morals, courtesy, decency, personal hygiene. We are above these. We are awoken to a sense of beauty-turned-ugly supported by a line item in the federal budget.

WE AIM to stab a thumb into the eye of the gallery owner. We raise a middle finger at the so-called “art lover.” And for those too busy to visit art galleries–those so dulled by meaningless devotion to job and family–we leave no escape. Our Art descends upon your public spaces. You gasp: “How does anyone get away with this shit? I wanna a job where I get government money to make this kind of garbage.”

WHY SHOULDN’T we indulge our most juvenile impulses? Why shouldn’t we throw a tantrum and break all our toys? Make Art with our vaginas and bodily fluids? Hope that someday our discharge and excretions will be auctioned at Sotheby’s for millions?

WE OPPOSE the corporate ethos “to add value,” “to serve a customer,” “to get to work on time” in the empty quest to build wealth to pay taxes to fund federal Arts organizations.

WE DETEST the comfortable compromise, good manners, attending to the practical demands of life. Saving for retirement. Paying off Art School student debt.

WE DEFINE a new paradigm of Art that ridicules the viewer in order to establish our own creative superiority. We refuse to sing a cradlesong to the nice nice taxpayer. Rather, we lay bare his impotence to create.

WE FINALLY DEMAND continued funding for the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. For one day, we will describe to Terry Gross how a tortured life and federal funding contribute to our creative process. Meanwhile, commuters stalled in rush-hour traffic will listen to us on NPR and lament working jobs so unimaginative that they will never be interviewed by Terry Gross.

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Fat Pieces of Shit are Making Us Fatties Look Bad http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/fat-pieces-of-shit-are-making-us-fatties-look-bad http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/fat-pieces-of-shit-are-making-us-fatties-look-bad#respond Mon, 22 May 2017 12:00:23 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=33877 Dear Donald Trump and other fat pieces of shit,

You’re making the rest of us fatties look bad. 

Whenever people turn on the TV, the radio, or YouTube, one of you fat pieces of shit is screaming about Muslims or Mexicans. People can’t walk more than a block in most cities before hearing a fat piece of shit call a woman a bitch or a piece of ass. People can’t even go to the bathroom without you fat pieces of shit playing dick police.

Thanks to you fat pieces of shit, the only fatty-positive representations we have left in society are Santa Claus and fat Buddha. We don’t even have Al Roker anymore. You fat pieces of shit have tarnished the fatty brand so much, society has turned against us in the fight to cure type II diabetes. 

You’ve made “fat” and “piece of shit” synonymous, and that affects us all.

Just the other day, some guy said I had the tits of a man who killed Obamacare. No, sir. I have the tits of a man who needs Obamacare, especially its protection for pre-existing conditions like obesity, ruptured discs, depression, and CIBHM (Couch Induced Butt Hair Matting).

You’ve made “fat” and “piece of shit” synonymous, and that affects us all.

At the grocery store, a lady shouted at me that I couldn’t take away a woman’s right to choose just because I looked 69 months pregnant. If I had a nickel for every time I heard that one, I could fund Planned Parenthood through an entire Republican presidential term.

When people blamed me for earthquakes in Kansas and Oklahoma, I thought, finally! We’re back to normal. But no, turns out they thought because I eat like there’s no tomorrow, I must frack like there’s no tomorrow.

Persuading you to stop being a piece of shit is impossible. Once you’ve been pinched out of someone’s asshole, there’s no going back. After all, your ideas about race, class, sexuality, and gender were formed when the science wasn’t yet settled on centaurs.

If thousands of years of social, cultural, and technological advancement haven’t convinced you being a piece of shit is bad, nothing can. So, as much as I cheer on heart disease in your cases, I’m asking you pieces of shit to stop being fat.

Because you’re committed to being a piece of shit, you need a weight loss plan which preserves your lifestyle while it cuts pounds. Unlike trendy diets and heart attack-inducing exercises, bulimia is that safe, easy way to cut fat while eating beyond your considerable stomach capacity. Bulimia does have a drawback. You might feel awful puking up food that cost more than the weekly salary of the help who has to clean it up. That happens when your puke muscles get tired. Midway through your binges, you’ll want to start chasing the foie gras with laxatives so you can workout your backend.

But what if you’re a fat piece of shit who resents having to puke and poop? You paid for those turds, and if you could, you’d store them in your cheeks before you’d flush them over to the communists at the water treatment facility. Then consider the capitalist spirit animal: the noble tapeworm. This unconventional weight-loss method is for fat pieces of shit who aren’t necessarily gluttons but who’d still rather feed an intestinal parasite before feeding anyone else.

A Madagascan tapeworm will consume up to 99% of the food you eat, leaving you just enough calories for basic body functions, just as our founding fathers intended. Obviously—with fewer calories—your body must become more efficient. Consequently, you may experience some discomfort as your organs switch to a market-based approach to nutrient supply.

Even with several extra years tacked onto your reign of darkness, I still look forward to a piece-of-shit-free future for fatties. I miss the low point of my day being the long trudge from the back of Walmart to the front of Walmart with everyone knowing exactly why I have a new toilet seat tucked under my arm. I want to go back to being thankful sleep apnea didn’t murder me in the night. Mostly, I just want to go back to being judged by the girth of my waist, not the content of some piece of shit’s character.

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10 Really Insensitive Things You Should Never Say to People http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/10-really-insensitive-things-you-should-never-say-to-people http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/10-really-insensitive-things-you-should-never-say-to-people#respond Sun, 21 May 2017 12:35:10 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=32989 1. “Goddamn, you look terrible! Are you OK?”

If some guy is bleeding all over the place and one of his eyeballs is hanging out of his head, then you can safely assume he’s NOT OK! There’s no need to insult an extremely injured person with a stupid question. Just tell him he looks terrible and move on.

2. “You look like you need someone to talk to. I recommend that person over there, he looks like a really good talker. I’ll be hanging out here with people who are actually having fun and enjoying life.”

You might be at a party or out with some friends when you see someone staring at the floor, sobbing endlessly. When you see someone in this condition, it’s often because they’re not having a very good time.

Something really horrible, sad, or devastating has probably happened. They may have had their heart broken, or they may have recently learned that a family member has developed a horrible crotch infection and is about to die soon. It’s hard to say.

My advice is to say as little to this person as possible. Your words will only make things worse. Get someone else to comfort them. It’s not your job!

Just hang out with the other people who are having fun and drinking too much. You never know, you might even get lucky enough to meet some crazy nymphomaniac who steals your underwear and sticks her finger up your ass while jerking you off in a dark alleyway somewhere. Although this might be considered socially unacceptable behavior by some people, it is certainly more fun than hanging out with someone who is depressed.

3. “I heard your child was eaten by an escaped zoo animal. I certainly hope it was a quick death and that there was no severe pain or suffering involved. Here’s $5 to help ease your loss. …What? There WAS severe pain and suffering? Gosh, I feel like such an ass! Here’s $10.”

You should always keep at least $10 in your wallet just in case you meet someone who has suffered a tragic and unexpected loss. Handing someone only $5 is just plain rude and insulting. What kind of a person are you, anyway?

4. “It’s heart-breaking to see you in the hospital in this condition. How much would it hurt if I accidentally stepped on this tube coming out of your body?”

Yes, it’s going to hurt! You asshole! The person in the hospital is probably a man, and the tube is probably coming out of his penis.

Before you say something stupid like this, you should probably read up on your medical terminology. The tube is probably a catheter. A catheter is a thin, flexible medical device which often serves the purpose of facilitating drainage.

Catheters can be used in a variety of ways, but they are often inserted into the penis-hole and then pushed through the urethra with the help of lubrication. This can be done either during surgery or while the patient is awake.  If the patient is awake, he will often experience a slight feeling of pressure and discomfort as the lubrication tube enters the penis and injects the fluid that is necessary to prepare it for further penetration.

When the catheter is inserted, the patient will then feel a sharp, “burning-needle” type of sensation as the sensitive inner-lining of the penis-hole opens up. This sensation is accompanied by testicular strain, further pressure, and soreness as the device makes its way through the urethra and deeper into the patient’s insides. When the catheter is removed, there is a rather intense feeling of reverse pressure as it scrapes against (and breaks) several blood-vessels on its way out. This often results in bloody urine for the next week or so.

In other words, don’t step on that tube!

5. “Thank you for being so open and honest with me about your previous long-term relationship. It sounds like there were many complicated factors involved in your breakup, and I understand that it takes time to heal emotionally from this sort of thing. So, are you ready to start sucking my dick yet? It’s late, and I’ve got stuff to do in the morning.”

If you’re on a date with a woman, saying this might actually get you punched in the face. It’s also possible she will never call you again. Your intentions may be harmless, but these words are often perceived as impolite, heartless, and slightly ill-mannered. She might even think that you’re a horrible, degenerate pig.

Although nothing could be further from the truth, I highly recommend that you DO NOT SAY THESE WORDS… at least not on the first date.

On the second date, it would probably be OK. She’ll know you a little better by then.

6. “Hey, it’s OK. She still loves you. She just wasn’t thinking clearly when she met that other guy at the bar, went to his apartment, got down on her knees, pulled his pants down, spit on his cock, stroked him until he was really hard, and then proceeded to fuck him reverse cowgirl style in the middle of the stairwell.”

If you’ve made it this far into the article, then you probably realize that I’m emotionally unwell as a person. But that doesn’t matter because this is advice that you should definitely not miss out on.

The above statement is probably the worst thing you can say to some poor guy who just found out his girlfriend cheated on him. Heartbreak is bad enough without all the gory details. There are some moments in life that are so incredibly filled with pain that silence is actually the best answer.

Also, don’t tell him you were the other guy. That could make the situation even worse.

7. “Hey, it’s OK. He still loves you. He just wasn’t thinking clearly when he spent several weeks flirting with another woman online until he met her in person, bent her over the kitchen table, gave her a good solid pounding from behind, and then blew his load all over her back before he proceeded to fuck all of her good-looking friends as well as the Schwan’s delivery man who occasionally stops by her house.”

I’m not really sure how females break bad news to each other, but I think this statement would probably also be out of line. But then again, females are always more detail-oriented, so maybe she actually does want to know. She may use the information to determine if she wants to kill him with a knife or a hammer while he’s sleeping.

She may also decide to videotape herself scissoring with another woman before drugging him, tying him to a chair, and forcing him to watch the entire video before she sets a hot frying pan on his testicles and then smashes his face in with a shovel.

People use information differently.

8. “Hey, guess what! I found a book that you might really enjoy. I wandered past the Self-Help section and immediately thought of you. I think you’ll like chapter 7; it’s about personality disorders and cognitive deficiencies.”

This isn’t exactly the nicest thing to say to someone, but you had been meaning to buy this person a gift for quite some time. You originally thought of buying the person a small bag of freshly-ground, medium-roasted, potato-flavored coffee and some chewing gum, but the book was actually cheaper.

It’s the thought that counts.

9. “I know you’ve been thinking about giving up drugs and alcohol because they cause you to act like a dysfunctional asshole, but it’s the only thing you’re really good at. I don’t think sobriety is actually going to improve your life all that much.”


10. “It’s important to be honest with yourself. Setting your goals too high and having unrealistic expectations will only lead to frustration and disappointment. That’s why I think you should stop trying to go back to school, obtain a fulfilling career, or find someone who will love you unconditionally. OK, you can get up now. I have to go home because I don’t have enough money for another lap dance.”

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To-Do List for New College Graduates to Fix the World http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/to-do-list-for-new-college-graduates-to-fix-the-world http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/to-do-list-for-new-college-graduates-to-fix-the-world#respond Sat, 20 May 2017 16:32:47 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=33888 While you have been in college, the adult community has been busy ruining the world. This has left us no time for several important tasks. They’ve been on the back burner. But now we need you to start on these tasks. Tackle and wrestle to the dirt each one in sequential order.

The first task is to shrink the size of all the world’s oceans to half their current size. Then purify that water. Make it all drinkable. No junk. No beer cans. Clean that water up. Bottle it and sell it in well-to-do neighborhoods such as Greenwich, Connecticut.

When finished, make more volcanos erupt. This means you have to invent volcanos. The world needs more hot lava. Use the lava to start a rejuvenation of the lava lamp industry.

Next, go to the Grand Canyon. Either fly or drive. Conduct a one-hour brainstorming session with yourself, using a white board, focused on ways to make the Canyon ten times bigger than it is. You will need to do some calculations, so bring your laptop.

As you leave the Grand Canyon, decide that the sky is too high and too far away. Make the sky closer to us. Just figure it out.

Then change the colors in nature. Make lawn grass orange and tree bark baby blue and leaves orange and bushes yellow.

Next, re-configure the solar system. Put Mars where Pluto is. Get Saturn out of the way of everything, at least for now. Move Earth so it’s adjacent to Pluto. It has to be adjacent to Pluto.

When done with this, question gravity. Be circumspect whether it’s still true that any object such as a lava lamp, or a person such as you, will fall down if thrown up in the air. If it’s still true, accept it. But if you detect any hole in the argument, if there is one scintilla of doubt in your mind about the rule of gravity, keep questioning it. Check on what Wikipedia has to say on the topic.

The guy who invented the theory, somebody named Isaac Newton or Galileo or Johnny Appleseed, needs to be checked out thoroughly. Where did he grow up? Who did he hang out with? What kind of car did he drive? Was in the FBI?

Get your hands on a photo of his car, what color it is, whether it has whitewall tires. Does it look like Greased Lightning?

Then move on. Drive away thinking that gravity is something to do while your life is going on or what happens to you when you’re driving.

Then turn your attention to mountains. All mountains. Those in Sweden. Those in New Mexico. Those in West Virginia. The ones in Austria the Von Trapp Family Singers walked up when defecting from Germany. Visualize mountains in places you’ve never seen or been or heard of. Count every mountain in the world.

Then move mountains. Shift them around like chess players do kings, pawns, and rooks on a board. This does not mean move them mentally. Move them literally. Get some cranes and shovels. Ask your friends for help because it’s going to be a lot of hard work and will take at least a year.

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I Should Probably Go Ahead and Buy Two Tickets For This Show http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/i-should-probably-just-buy-two-tickets-for-this-show http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/i-should-probably-just-buy-two-tickets-for-this-show#respond Fri, 19 May 2017 19:00:14 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=33843 Alright, the presale starts in less than a minute. I’m logged in, and they already have my credit card on file. My three-digit security code is copied to the clipboard, waiting to be pasted should they need it.

I’m ready.

And the virtual gates are open!

Here we go.

No way I’m missing out on these tickets today. They’ll surely sell out in minutes, if not seconds, but I think I should be fine, barring any mishaps out of my control.

Okay, “Find seats for me.” That should be the fastest option. Let’s see what they’ve got.


Might as well select the e-ticket option while I’m on this page. It’ll buy me some more time at least.

Nice, these ones are right up front. Beautiful. Should be smooth sailing from here onward since I–

Oh wait, do I actually want two tickets for this? I’m pretty sure I just searched using the default settings. I haven’t actually talked to anyone else about going yet too…

Well, the “Time left to buy” countdown has already started at this point, and I certainly don’t want these tickets to be released to other buyers. Besides, the show’s not for a few more months, so I should definitely be able to find someone to go with by then.

Anyway, these seats are perfect.


Let me think of who I could go with, though. I should at least have someone in mind. Things have gone well with Lynnea so far; maybe I could invite her? But will we even be dating by the time the show rolls around? In fact, are we even dating now? We’ve only gone on a few “dates” so far, and one of them was her joining our weekly tabletop game night, which is not exactly the most romantic of endeavors.

Uh-oh, clock’s still ticking. Might as well select the e-ticket option while I’m on this page. Easy enough. And it’ll buy me some more time, at least.


Who else should be around that night? I suppose I could invite my sister. After all, we went to that show together a while back and it was fun. Plus, Mom was happy to know we were spending time together. But I don’t want to make it blatantly obvious that I couldn’t find a date for yet another concert; she’s already suspicious enough due to the same-day invite to the previous show, sent three hours before the doors opened.

I should enter in my security code now just so I don’t forget. Don’t want to get tripped up by that right at the end.

If I’m in a real pinch, worst-case I can just sell one of the tickets and go by myself. I’ve gone solo to shows before and it’s actually pretty enjoyable. Don’t have to worry about anyone else and I can just focus on the performance.

But wait a minute–it’s a seated event, and I’d be offering up the spot right next to me. I know this might be hypocritical, but I really don’t want to be sitting next to someone who would go ahead and buy a single ticket to a show.

Really need to figure this out soon though. Time’s running out.

Hmm, how does this ticket insurance work anyway? Reimbursement up to 100% if you cannot attend the event? That sounds like it might be a good way to hedge my bet.

Okay. Having read the 14-page insurance policy, they definitely do not cover you failing to secure a date. Who actually pays for this? People who didn’t think the service fees were high enough?

Maybe I’ll meet someone in the meantime who’s into this band. You can filter by music preferences on dating apps, right? Although, is a shared interest in an artist enough to start a relationship from? Is having similar taste in music even an indicator of romantic compatibility? I mean, I love The White Album, but I’m not trying to enter into a courtship with Charles Manson.

Shouldn’t the foundation of a partnership be based on something deeper than a mutual enjoyment of a certain group of songs? Have I learned nothing from my last relationship? Am I foolishly cheering for an encore of what was a terrible show to begin with?

Oh goddammit! The timer ran out!!

Now I’ve lost the seats.

Well, might as well keep an eye out over the next few days to see if anything pops up on the reseller sites. I’m sure some pathetic sap will post a single ticket for sale soon enough.

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“Meet Cute” Moments Ruined By Ghosts http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/meet-cute-moments-ruined-by-ghosts http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/meet-cute-moments-ruined-by-ghosts#comments Fri, 19 May 2017 12:00:04 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=33852 The barista at Caribou Coffee says “soy latte for Morgan” and a young man and a young woman, both named Morgan, say “that’s mine” at the exact same time. They stare into each other’s eyes and an unspoken attraction forms from their random, chance encounter. Morgan and Morgan both go to grab the latte but they cannot because their barista has been dead for the past sixteen years.

Darren and Elizabeth are two hard-working, single lawyers in Manhattan. They never have time for love because they’re always working. One day in the courthouse, they accidentally run into each other and spill their papers everywhere. Darren helps Elizabeth get to her feet and they laugh nervously. But then Darren, who is a ghost, begins to float upwards because, in helping Elizabeth, he has finally committed a good deed on Earth. He ascends to heaven. Elizabeth is not a ghost and she remains in the courthouse alone.

Jason and Roger are in the Chicago Public Library, reading books at adjacent tables. Roger is an architect who dreams of building Chicago’s next big skyscraper. Jason is a video game developer who just got out of a long-distance relationship. Jason sees that Roger is alone in the library and asks “what are you reading?” “Just my favorite book” replies Roger, coyly. Jason looks at the book and notices that it is bound in the leathery skin of the eternally damned. The Necronomicon. The hellish tome calls to him in an ethereal wail and he is drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Roger smiles wide as Jason’s soul is irreparably tarnished.

During a perfectly ordinary seance, mild-mannered occultist Deke Mansville accidentally conjures the spirit of a young 1920’s ingénue named Janie Specterghoul who died under mysterious circumstances. They go on a few dates, but they just don’t click.

Penelope Bridgetemple is a young, 22-year-old graduate student, living alone in a big city. She is at Best Buy, looking for a new TV. Suddenly Rick Mappleweather, a handsome 23-year-old stock boy with dreams of becoming a musician bumps into her. They laugh politely, look into each other’s eyes, and then smile. Then a ghost passes through the TV and changes the channel, causing it to play that episode from 2 Broke Girls where Max and Caroline have to find Sophie’s wedding dress before she gets married. “Ugh. I hate this episode,” says Rick scornfully, not knowing that it is Penelope’s favorite episode. Their relationship ends before it even begins.

Janine McKelvey has been possessed by the ghost of her grandmother, Agatha McKelvey, who died before she had the chance to reconnect with Nelson Fordham, her childhood sweetheart. Agatha (in the body of Janine) searches desperately, but she cannot find her dear Nelson. Distraught, Agatha gets on a bus that will return her to the graveyard where her original body was buried. But, right as she is about to give up hope forever, an elderly man taps her on the shoulder and asks “is this seat taken?” The man is Nelson Fordham! Unfortunately, Nelson has also been possessed by the ghost of his grandmother and, as such, does not recognize the woman s/he is sitting next to. This mix-up is never resolved.

Clarence Hoffman is a young doctor who is haunted by the psychological ghosts of his past. On an unrelated note, he is also surrounded by thousands upon thousands of regular ghosts who obscure his vision and taunt him with inscrutable phrases that only he can decypher. Melissa Everton is also a doctor. She sits next to Clarence on the train and says “hey.”  “Drink the well water, Clarence” scream the thousands upon thousands of ghosts that only Clarence Hoffman can see and hear and understand. He does not hear Melissa. He does not see her through the ocean of ghosts that perpetually surround him. He stares blankly ahead as the train powers forward. Melissa gets off the train and never sees Clarence again. No one sees Clarence again.

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I Asked Quentin Tarantino to Write a Fairy Tale and This is What He Sent Me Back http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/i-asked-quentin-tarantino-to-write-a-fairy-tale-and-this-is-what-he-sent-me-back http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/i-asked-quentin-tarantino-to-write-a-fairy-tale-and-this-is-what-he-sent-me-back#respond Thu, 18 May 2017 19:00:49 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=33731 OK, so a really, really, really, really long time ago, there was this broad… this princess. She was a princess, right? So, she had this real wonderful, real fantastic life. Real luxurious. It makes me real jealous, to be honest, OK. 

And when I say “luxurious,” I mean the whole kit and caboodle: butlers, clothes, indoor plumbing, centralized air, a Russian nesting doll collection. Why does she have a toilet in her house and I don’t? Who decided that? I have a Beanie Babies collection but no one ever offered me a dress.

It’s complete bullshit, alright; I’m telling you.

I was sleeping on Lawrence Bender’s sofa when I wrote Reservoir Dogs, God bless him. I was a bum, but I was also a starving writer, a starving director, and starving. I had a lot of empty time on my hands.

I was working in a video store around this time–Blockbuster Video, you know, may it rest in peace. I was watching a lot of movies by a lot of fantastic directors: Fellini, Bergman, Herzog. You know ‘em. A lot of Europeans. I saw a lot of cinema’s best creators, and I think it helped me grow as a person and as a creator. You need that relationship with your art, I think. You need to know its history and where it’s going, and how you can impact it and move it forward; and that’s what I wanted to do with Reservoir Dogs.

And, you know, people always ask me–and I understand why, of course; it’s just something I’m asked a lot–and that’s, “Who influenced you?” and I give them the usual answers: Kurosawa, Herzog, Fellini, Hitchcock. But who hasn’t been influenced by them, really?

I really identify with the psychology of a Disney princess, you know; I have a lot of issues with my father and a foot fetish.

And it’s interesting; someone who no one–and I mean no one–brings up is Walt Disney. Sure, he wasn’t a director, per se, but he was a genius when it came to selling a film that worked, and creating characters, and hating Jews, and saying the n-word a lot. And I think that’s what a lot of people enjoy about my films, that sense of personality and charisma.

And it’s interesting–I’ve kind of always imagined myself being a Disney princess. I really identify with the psychology of a Disney princess, you know; I have a lot of issues with my father and a foot fetish.

And no offense, but a lot of these dresses the princesses wear are pieces of clothing that are so tacky, so gaudy–I frankly don’t understand who designs these things. I mean, I’m sure I could design a better dress with one eye open and one eye looking slightly off to the right, like it usually does.

I’ll even model these dresses, OK. I’m a full-figured man. I’ve been on The Simpsons. I have no shame. “Shame?” What’s that? A Michael Fassbender film? The feeling I get when I visit my parents? Never heard of it.

Something we’ll also probably need to do to make sure the princess’s look works–and this is while I’m modeling–is put me in the whole get-up, OK; I’m talking lip stick, eyeliner, foundation, mascara. I want her to be fully realized and understood, visually speaking. She needs to be aesthetically pleasing–one, for the kids; they’ll eat this stuff up; two, for the 54-year-old hard-working, blue-collar Americans who are into pre-pubescent fictional girls, sort of like those guys on the internet who are into those Japanese anime girls. Waifus.

And another thing I have a problem with is the guys that these princesses fall in love with–they’re all idealized, and perfect, and in shape. Bleh. That doesn’t describe the average 54-year-old man. We need real men–men that look like me, that have my face; men that look like Guillermo del Toro; not Benicio.

OK, so, here’s what I’m thinking for this picture: young broad, dark hair. Teenager. Casting? I already have someone in mind: Uma Thurman. Make-up can work wonders. Did you know Ving Rhames is actually white? Anyway, we’re gonna get Uma on this picture. Think The Good, the Bad and the Ugly meets Ratatouille. An actual spaghetti western. Disney hasn’t tapped into the spaghetti western/exploitation/food porn genre enough.

I’m not one of those “funny, ha-ha comedy guys,” but if I were to get into television really hardcore, really go balls-deep–which I never do–and I wrote a sitcom, the premise would be something like this: 1889, 74 years before I’m born. 

Cut to a hospital. A father holds up his newborn son and says, “I love art.” 

Cut to twenty years later. That same boy, he’s going to art school. He moves in with this guy. They’re roommates. He has a haircut like Richard Spencer and a mustache like Hitler. It’s Hitler, and he hates art. “My Roommate Is Hitler,” coming to you this fall on Amazon Video. Really funny stuff.

Let me know if I answered your question.

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SportsCenter Reviews the Most Embarrassing Moments of My Year http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/sportscenter-reviews-the-most-embarrassing-moments-of-my-year http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/sportscenter-reviews-the-most-embarrassing-moments-of-my-year#respond Thu, 18 May 2017 12:00:31 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=33737 INT. ESPN STUDIOS

(Cue sports reel. A composite of several shots accompanied by a sweet-ass electric guitar solo. Three presenters—JOHN MORRICK, CAROLINE DIAZ, TOM STACY— stand closely, talking earnestly.)

JOHN (V.O.): The dark thrill of mumbling away and the breakneck end to a budding career.

(As the graphics sweep away the presenters separate and only JOHN MORRICK remains, center stage.)

Hi there, and welcome to this review of last season’s most embarrassing moments. With Caroline Díaz and Tom “Punisher” Stacy, I’m John Morrick. 

Today we bring you up to speed on the latest in the world of sport, highlights from the NHL playoffs plus some pre-season soccer, but first this year’s review of Seth Mallard and his least forgettable moments. Caroline?

CAROLINE: That’s right, John. On the morning after Mallard’s last night out before the start of the season, Trader Joe’s stadium would be host to this immediate and unexpected match-up against long-time ex-girlfriend Lara Liu.


CAROLINE: Dressed in last night’s clothes and confident in his ability to mask the miasma of cheap liquor about him, Mallard approached home plate through the snack aisle. In his run-up he’d already picked up several bags of Tostitos yet showed tremendous foresight by loading his cart with several Gatorades. Truly the awareness of a veteran.

And here comes the away team. Having faced each other for the last time eight months ago in the regionals, tensions ran high between Mallard and Liu. Imagine our surprise, John, when new boyfriend James Adams showed up as catcher.

It was top of the first when Liu slung the opening pitch asking how Mallard had been doing. An old hand at small talk, he read that fastball and, seeing the amount of food in their carts, made contact by retorting whether they planned on running away from reality, but—oh, foul ball: Liu replied that no, actually, they’re going to the beach for the weekend, the very same beach where her father refused to laugh at Mallard’s jokes for nearly three years. Incredible!

Instinctively, Mallard turns around, avoiding the away team’s gaze as he remembers he’s still in yesterday’s clothes, with eyes alight due to last night’s sour contacts searing into his retina. Returning to the plate, Mallard waits and—oh, he’s hit by the pitch as Liu places her arms round Adams’ waist!

Now this is where the whole game crumbled for the home team. Remember, John, this is what’s concerned several coaches (especially Mallard’s mom) through the years when facing pressure on the plate—his inability to focus on the swing. Let’s take a look.


(LIU stands in the foreground, slightly akimbo. MALLARD stands vacant. ADAMS walks over to LIU.)

CAROLINE: Subtle by Adams! As soon as Mallard turned back to home plate, Adams called for the hit with his dreamy personal trainer’s grin. Obviously the relentlessly carnal preseason training has established great rapport between the players. As soon as he’s hit, look at that, Mallard’s lips begin their signature electrical wobble.

It’s an automatic walk but the shame is too much for Mallard who, on his crestfallen walk to first, avoids the plate and simply walks out of Trader Joe’s Stadium, although not before returning to his cart for the Tostitos.

Cut back to: STUDIO

JOHN: Unbelievable, Caroline, all that time psyching himself up for their next meeting and it all crumbled, just like that. It seems all that time invested in “improving himself” did not, as his friends suggested, help at all.

For the second highlight in this review we have a short but lingering one. Last week Seth Mallard’s boss had her going-away party.


(MALLARD stands next to his former BOSS, a woman a few years older than him. He is surrounded by presents and his COLLEAGUES.)

JOHN: All the staff chipped in for gifts, whereas Mallard got a card. Not only that but can you imagine misspelling “privilege” in an otherwise moving going-away card for your boss, and her pointing out that, ‘hey, you’re an English teacher, shouldn’t you know how to spell “privilege” correctly?’ Haha, classic.

Cut back to: STUDIO

CAROLINE: Oh, boy, that was brutal, John.

JOHN: Sure was, Caroline. Up next we have May’s iconic breakdown in the parking lot. Tom has the insider look at this one. Tom?

TOM: Thank you, John. Next in the countdown we have last year’s most voted breakdown. It has it all: misplaced keys, suppressed tears in public, and frantic pounding on the dashboard. All the makings to become a finalist for play of the year. Let’s take a look.


(MALLARD stands at the front of the class. His STUDENTS sit, fidgeting. Colorful posters hang from the walls, as do several examples of their work.)

TOM: First off, we know this season’s performance review was an important one. In order to clinch the title of “teacher of the year” all Mr. Mallard needed was for the students at Sallow Mills Middle School to behave for just two periods.

Considering how out of form they’d been last season and how Mr. Mallard had been keeping it together by a thread, this was clearly a close contest. It all started in the middle of English class when little Derek Barlow rushed up the wing, sidestepped two of his classmates, and, within seconds, slapped a soon-to-be-wailing Alex Prednov in the face, all while Principal Jones sat at the back of the classroom, busy in review.

After a year-long minute where Mr. Mallard wished he would simply drop dead, those few students on his side tried to raise morale by rephrasing the same questions repeatedly. Remember, folks, there are many rumors about students unhappy with his management and looking for transfers out of state, the promise of more free periods no doubt being enticing. 

Two minutes after the end of the lesson, and following a brief timeout instruction from Principal Jones to meet him in his office, came Mr. Mallard’s breakdown. Let’s take a look.


(MALLARD bolts from the classroom. He walks as briskly as possible, then breaks into a sprint through the inside and outside hallways.)

TOM: Did you see that? Let’s get a replay. 

First he evades the meeting and races 70, 80 yards, knocking down a security guard in the processpersonal foul! Then in the middle of his run comes the search for the keys, and, if we could just bring up the alternate angle here—oh, fumble! Keys straight to the ground! Just look at the crowd as the rookie teachers can’t believe their eyes, holding their heads in disbelief.

It’s a bitter road from being a first draft pick for the district in ‘08 to this. The tears, the runny nose, the hordes of middle schoolers ravenously staring from the windows, all this punctuated by slamming the dashboard and that final animal shriek is what makes this my personal favorite for most embarrassing moment of 2016. John?

Cut back to: STUDIO

JOHN: Textbook meltdown! Alright, folks, that’s it from us. Join us tomorrow as we witness the beginning of the end for a former great by going over Seth Mallard’s latest bout in advocating for a student’s suspension and how he got shut down by the new and younger vice-principal.

For Tom Stacy and Caroline Diaz, I’m John Morrick. Thanks for watching and we’ll no doubt see you again after beach season.

[Zoom out. Cue visuals. Credits.]

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You Didn’t Get the Job, But I Think We’d Make Great Friends http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/your-not-right-for-this-job-want-to-be-friends http://www.pointsincase.com/articles/your-not-right-for-this-job-want-to-be-friends#respond Wed, 17 May 2017 19:00:47 +0000 http://www.pointsincase.com/?p=33739 Thanks for coming in to interview with us, it was really a pleasure to meet you. Unfortunately, we’ve decided to go a different way. But we honestly did enjoy our conversation and I was wondering, do you want to hang out sometime?

Your resume is very impressive for someone who graduated so recently. Going to grad school full-time while working full-time and raising a family? Really remarkable stuff.

And volunteering abroad? I’d love to hear about that at the draught house some time. It’s that bar in the lobby — you probably walked by it when you came for the interview. Anyway, that’s where my fantasy football league usually meets. There’s still time to sign up if you’re interested.

We all agreed you presented yourself very well. You talked about your technical strengths without going over anyone’s head — and we’re not all as technically versed as you are! The conversation felt really laidback. You would have been a great fit with our corporate culture.

I got sort of excited when you mentioned how much you love baseball because I love baseball too. Come to think of it, I always have some extra tickets. We usually get them to take clients, but if we don’t have any major customers in town, the staff is free to use them. It’s too bad; you would have loved that part of working here.

When you signed the NDA, I noticed you’re left-handed. We could really use a lefty pitcher. Think about it.

If we had someone here who could share some of the responsibilities of this role while you sort of warmed up, it might be different. It’s like our company kickball team. New people come out thinking that it’s just kickball and they’ll be fine. But it definitely takes some time for people to get the hang of it.

Also, you don’t have to work here to be on the team. You just have to know someone who does. When you signed the NDA, I noticed you’re left-handed. We could really use a lefty pitcher. Think about it.

We couldn’t give you one of the uniforms. But you could just wear a t-shirt that’s the same color. Our CEO and our CFO both bought us uniforms. I guess it’s for home and away games? But we play at the same park every time. It’s sort of stupid. But it’s fun. They usually buy us brunch after the games, too.

Did you know they make Bloody Marys in a juice box now? There is usually a cooler full of those for after the game. It’s like being in little league all over again.

And I want you to know this had nothing to do with you kicking Nick’s ass at foosball. He’s one of the founders, but he’s super chill. Really, if anything it was a plus. It was great that you just walked in with a game in progress and claimed the next game against the winner. That’s exactly the kind of attitude we look for.

Too long, don’t read: It’s not one thing in particular, I just think we’d make great friends.

Good luck in your job search and hopefully I’ll see you at kickball.

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