Tag Archives: Family

I Thought Ponyo Was Hentai, What Gives?

By Dorito Man

An excerpt from our latest release, The Fake News Issue!

I work hard. People in my life understand this, So get this. I get home late, and my weirdo roommate, he tells me he has just the thing to cheer me up. I get want to grab a nice cold one from the fridge and crawl into bed, but I can’t, because there he is. Standing in the way. I can feel the condensation meeting my fingers. I crave it. I am thinking about this and my eyes are just about to glaze over when he pull out this blu-ray. I don’t know where it came from, and I don’t want to know. He’s really into that anime shit, and I’ve promised him I’d check some out, but honestly, I’m scared. I don’t have the time for big 2D jigglage. I have a girlfriend I’m too tired to talk to, okay? I’m too old for cartoon boobs that refuse to follow Newtonian physics, where the nipple can be fully penetrated by a large manhood. This time was different, though. I could tell that he wouldn’t leave me alone unless I gave Ponyo a shot.

I was ready. Taking a cursory glance at the blu-ray case, I saw a little girl, and I saw fish. That’s all I managed to see, and I thought to myself, ain’t this illegal? I know what this anime business is about. Seeing the ocean life on the cover only confirmed my biases about where this journey was headed. Knowing what he’s into–Samurai Champloo (which I think is Japanese for coitus), Kingdom Hearts, Neon Genesis Evangellier (even jellier than what?), I got ready for the evening that I assumed he had planned for us. I got the baby oil ready and lathered the entire bottom half of my body like a hybrid of man and seal. My socks stayed on of course, to preserve heat.

It’s to preserve heat.

I popped that bad boy in hiding behind 7 different proxies (which is what my roommate calls our blinds) so the POTUS couldn’t spot me finna engage in some solid waifu lechery. From what I’d gathered by right wing people on twitter, though, the president loves anime–judging by his supporters avi’s so I wasn’t too worried, when I hit play. I see Disney’s logo upfront, and I nearly cry. Have they stooped this low?

But here’s the crazy thing.

Not a single nipple. Not one. Buddy, you could put a magnifying glass up against the screen and I promise you that wouldn’t help find any nipples because there aren’t any. No inhuman amounts of ejaculate being funneled into genitalia, no swelling of the gastrointestinal system without any sort of health related repercussions and not one, not one, slippery bad boy with suction cups for fingers. Tentacles, in case you didn’t get it. The movie takes place in the sea, from what I had gathered, so that seemed like a given.

Instead, what I did get was beautiful handpainted scenery, mindblowing cinematography of a breathtaking scope, and a renewed sense of purpose, with a sense that the world isn’t as cold as I make it out to be living this day to day life I call a mediocre waste of time and breath. When my roommate said that the film had strong female characters, I assumed he was judging by the amount of newtons worth of force their little buttholes could negotiate. I now realize that he was referring to the depth of their character, which is–in a way–far more important. This film made me want to call my girlfriend.

The tale of a little-girl-fish thing helping her newfound family find love, is exactly what I would expect of Disney. I didn’t even get an erection. How fucking cool is that?

Apparently Hayao Miyazaki has a long history of making wonderous pictures that explore relatable themes, in ways that we are too busy down at the mill to consider. How was I supposed to know that Howl was the name of the protagonist of Howl’s Moving Castle, instead of just a description of the sounds buttstuff creates?

How the fuck was I supposed to know Ponyo wasn’t hentai?

Japanese, check.

Female protagonist, check.

That’s about all I got. You hear that, you think hentai. This was not that. 0/10 hentai, 10/10 film.

I owe my roommate an apology. Not just for shunning all of his recommendations prior, but for begrudgingly stripping nude in his presence. Tomorrow, I might even check out Spirited Away! Look, was I a little disappointed when I learned that Tina Fey hadn’t in fact lended her voice to a piece of animated pornography? Sure. Sure as I’ve got toes on my feets.

I do not have toes on my feet. But seeing her out of character, in the role of a caring mother just trying to make sure her family can get by under the weight of the judgement of others made me consider how I’d been treating the mother of my own children, whom I have been separated from, for just so long. And that’s great. There is no other result that I would prefer to come from laying slick on a trashbag tarp of my own preparation. That’s just grand.

This has been kind of nice actually. I feel as though the power of friendship is actually pretty important. Ponyo taught me that. Maybe there are things in life more important than playing five hand poker with the baloney pony.

Ah who am I kiddin? I’m gonna go crack open a cold one and watch some busty beauties get shafted by failed government experiments. Consensually.

Dorito Man 48 signing off. See you later space cowboy.

6 Spots In My House Where My Daughter’s Ghost Can’t Find Me

By James Sweeney

An excerpt from our hottest text strudel, “Nonsense’s Guide to the Supernatural

There are certain aspects of life you never really engage with until you have to…until you’re forced to. I know that now. A lot of people say they want to understand death. They say they want to learn to embrace it, and explore the beauty in it. They’re full of shit. You don’t want to understand. You don’t want to understand what it’s like to live every day under a black cloud of memories that hurt too much to remember, and yet far more to bury deep inside yourself, the shame of trying to forget how happy you used to be. You don’t want to watch your little girl wither away for two goddamn years, to watch her shrink into nothing right before your eyes. Try moving on from that. Try picking up the pieces after that. It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do; and it doesn’t get any easier when your baby girl’s spirit chooses to root itself in your home rather than crossover to an eternal afterlife. At this point, I’m just thankful I have a few spots I can escape to when the ghost of my beautiful dead daughter becomes too much to deal with.

1. The Basement

We never let Cassie into the basement when she was alive because of the rat infestation, but once the crowdfunding came together for her funeral costs we were finally able to fix up that chintzy paneling and afford a decent exterminator. Now, I’ve got the recliner and my Playstation down there and, while it isn’t much yet, I’m thinking it could become a certified Man Cave in due time. Dr. Towns says that an important part of grieving is giving yourself space to work through things at an appropriate pace. It’s important not to rush the process, he says, which is why I’m holding off on snagging a pool table until I can find a regulation sized one in red felt. Patience is key, he says.

2. The Garage

1969-Mustang-Mach-1.jpg
Cassie had been scared of the garage ever since that bat got trapped in there a few years back, so I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about her apparition running around in there and reminding me of what my life once was. Dr. Towns mentioned that a lot of men deal with grieving by taking up projects, so I figured now was as good a time as any to work on the old Mustang again. She’s an absolute beauty, a cherry red ’69 with the original drum brakes, a dual exhaust, and a V6 cylinder engine that still purrs like the kitten we promised to get Cassandra for her 9th birthday. I would give anything to have been able to bring that cat home and see the look in Cassie’s eyes, but I guess I’ll just have to settle for being the envy of all my buddies once the Cherry Bomb is back in roadworthy condition.

3. Underneath the Patio

Cassie would never darego under here back when things were good and life mattered. She was pretty sure there were monsters living under the house, and I wasn’t exactly rushing to tell her otherwise. She had such an imagination, my tiny adventurer, and the last thing I wanted was her crawling around down there and getting hurt. Pretty ironic, all things considered. Dr. Towns says it’s important to maintain goals and remember that I still have things in life to work towards. Writing down notes of things I hope to accomplish is a big way to look ahead, he says. I woke up under the patio last week with a sticky note in my shirt pocket that said “Find a cure to cancer. Do whatever it takes.” I have a degree in social work from University of Phoenix Online.

4. The Spare Bedroom

We usually kept this room locked up when Cassie was still with us, and she generally knew better than to come in. Jess keeps all her sewing and knitting stuff in here, and Cassie was just always getting into some kind of trouble whenever she snuck in. Just too many pins and needles for such a mischievous kid, ya know? But there was this one time – God, I wish I’d taken a picture of this – when Cassie snuck in while Jess was taking a shower, and wrapped an entire ball of yarn around herself. An entire ball! She had to be about five, maybe six, and she was so caught up in the yarn that she could barely move! Eventually I find her, and she’s wriggling around on the carpet just covered in yarn, and she looks up me with her little gap tooth smile and goes, “Daddy! Daddy! Look! I’m a Casserpillar!” I mean how clever is that?! She was so smart, my little Casserpillar. I come in here sometimes, and I lay right down on the spot of the floor where I found her wriggling and laughing and smiling. At first, I worried that spending time in here would be intrusive towards Jess’s own grieving, but ironically, it would seem that I spend a lot more time in here than she does now. For the most part Jess just sleeps these days. Dr. Towns says this is a common side-effect of depression, and while I wish I could spend more time with Jess, I also I understand why she would want to spend days at a time in the dark of our bedroom. When you walk into the living room every morning to find the TV turned to Cartoon Network and the ghost of your only daughter practicing ballet, every moment from then on out just kind of feels like a waking nightmare.

5. The Minivan

Since the liminal plane containing my daughter’s soul seems to only really reach the 3900 sq. feet that make up our home, backyard, and driveway, I’ve recently begun parking the minivan in the street. I spent most nights out in the van during that first month without Cassie, though back then I was actually driving around town, sometimes until dawn. At this point, I don’t even bother bringing the keys with me, just a bottle and a book. While it’s true that I’d do just about anything to forget for a minute what has become of my once-charmed existence, there’s a lot of misunderstanding about my time out by the curb. Honestly – and this is something Dr. Towns sort of refuses to acknowledge, which has been a real point of frustration for me – the drinking isn’t meant to numb the pain. There’s no numbing this pain. There’s no muting this roaring deficit in my being. It really just comes down to this: If you’ve ever read Koontz, you know that his masterful storytelling goes hand-in-hand with a little sauce. Them’s just facts. Like I’ve told Dr. Towns over and over, Jack Daniels and Dean Koontz were my go-to duo long before my world came crashing down. I just happen to need them now more than ever.

6. The Attic

None of us ever really went into the attic much when Cassie was alive, what with all the loose insulation and fiberglass up here. That stuff doesn’t really matter so much now. I go up here sometimes to just think, to process. Lately, I’ve actually started bringing my laptop – just to get a little writing done, keep the ol’ ticker in shape. Dr. Towns says it’s healthy to exercise the parts of the brain that we often come to neglect over time. I was about halfway finished with a screenplay based of off Dean Koontz’s 1983 bestseller Phantoms around the time we found out Jess was pregnant. I had been working for Jess’s dad at the time, helping him sell car parts out of the family shop, but every night after my shift, like clockwork, I would just sit down and immediately get so absorbed in that screenplay. Even during the first couple months of the pregnancy, I’d be writing for hours every night – I had such a strong vision for how everything would turn out, and I even had this idea in my head that Ray Liota could play the enigmatic Sherriff Bryce Hammond. Jess would be right there next to me, knitting little caps and booties. It’s amazing how time flies, isn’t it? Ten years seems like a lifetime ago now. Though, I guess in the case of my only daughter Cassandra, it kind of was.
It’s stuffy up here, and I’ve developed some pretty bad skin irritation, but I’d rather scratch myself bloody than watch the ghost of my daughter retrace the steps of a life that was stolen from her. It’s like…it’s like watching some little girl playing the role of my sweet pea. She looks just like her, and sounds just like her. She calls out to me sometimes, and she’s so happy. She’s not in pain, either; it’s as if the last two-and-a-half years never happened. It’s like an alternate universe. Sometimes, I’ll get up in the middle of the night and in my half-sleep, I’ll find her standing in the hallway. I’ll reach down to touch her head, thinking maybe she had a bad dream. But, my hand passes right through her. It’s like losing her all over again, and every time, just like that, I remember that it’s my bad dream. It’s my never-ending bad dream.

How To Celebrate the Holidays

By Zach Klebaner

This holiday season Nonsense would like to present its readers with a comprehensive guide on how to celebrate the holiday’s. Here it is.

New Years Day

Ah yes. New Years. The day the world has designated to get lights out drunk and “celebrate” the past year of their existence. Whether you had a great year or a terrible year – you’re likely to be found with a bottle in your hand and a stranger in your bed on this special day.

The Prophet’s Birthday

Who’s birthday?

Epiphany

I had one of those once.

Stephen Foster Memorial Day

“Who’s Stephen Foster?” is a question you might be asking and let me tell you: this is the man that wrote that “Camptown Ladies” song. I personally celebrated this holiday by googling Stephen Foster and getting high as fuck. There were no ladies, Camptown or otherwise.

Orthodox New Year

I recently learned that there is a second New Year. I celebrate this one the same way I celebrate the first one.

Lee-Jackson Day

This holiday celebrates Robert E. Lee and Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson on their respective birthdays. It was for a time awkwardly combined with the celebration of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday because that made sense.

Mississippi State Holiday

Mississippi celebrates its own existence on a yearly basis. I’m. Not. Fucking. Kidding.

National Freedom Day

I celebrate this holiday by killing everyone I don’t like. Because freedom.

Groundhog Day

I always watch one movie on this day. I think you know the one.

 

Pulp Fiction. Great movie. Definitely worth the watch.

Rosa Parks Day

I sit in the front of the bus on this day.

Valentines Day

I watch the movie Valentine’s Day all day long – on repeat – and jerk off…also on repeat. I only stop when I can’t cum anymore or the power company turns off my electricity.

Chinese New Year

I just get really drunk. Again. But this time with access to dangerous explosives. The bottle is a rocket and the stranger in my bed has no arm.

Passover

(For the editor—there should be a space or some other use or space to indicate that this one is passing over to the next one. Erase this after reading it. Or don’t. Maybe it’s funnier if we just leave this shit intact—Matt)

Tax Day

Haha like I pay that shit.

Confederate Memorial Holiday

To celebrate America’s glorious past.

Cinco de Mayo

Celebrated by getting drunk. Often celebrated by people who don’t understand the context and significance of the holiday and whose closest association with Mexican culture is eating Chipotle and drinking a Corona.

Mother’s Day

Suddenly realizing how much you owe your mom followed by going back to your usual lack of appreciation like the selfish brat that you are.

D-Day

Not to be confused with Doughnut Day. Which, surprisingly, has actual significance also related to wartime events but your fat, dumb ass probably wouldn’t know that.

Father’s Day

On this day many reflect on the father figure that is absent in their life. Many also consider the reasons for their absence.

The Fourth of July

Something happened on this day a while back so let’s fire off some Goddam fireworks and get drunk as shit. ‘Murica.

Eid al-Fitr

Fuck ISIS. ‘Murica.

National Grandparents Day

A terribly glazed over holiday. Many forget to call their grandparents on this day not unlike every other day of the year…’Murica.

Jewish New Year

Get drunk and awkwardly murmur prayers.

Columbus Day

On this day we celebrate Christopher Columbus and his ability to find Asia. I personally celebrate by discovering my neighbors toilet paper and non-perishable goods and bringing them back to my apartment.

Boss’s Day

Nobody celebrates this holiday…unless they’re a boss. And even then…probably not.

The Nonsense Scavenger Hunt

“If you can remember it then you didn’t do the scavenger hunt right” – Ancient Nonsense Proverb

Halloween

Eat lots of candy. Cause, why not?

Thanksgiving Day

On this joyous day people gather round with family and friends and celebrate the conquering of an indigenous population.

Black Friday

An extravagant celebration of American commercialism. Common celebratory practices include going out at ridiculous hours to purchase the-generally-expensive-but-cheap-for-the occasion-because-the-company-didn’t-sell-quite-enough-this-year items, fighting over parking spaces, fighting over the last television set you just need to get, and trampling over people in the craze over cheaply priced items. Bring a Taser!

Cyber Monday

Lacks the fun of large crowds and fights over trivial matters associated with Black Friday. Definitely a less extravagant way to celebrate American commercialism. Still complain over social media, though.

Chanukah

Yes, the “c” is fucking silent. This holiday lasts 8 days. I celebrate by lighting up the rest of my weed and hoping it lasts the 8 more days I have left till my next paycheck in an attempt to recreate the miracle of Judah M’Applepipe. You get it? I smoke weed.

New Years Eve

Let the drinking commence.

All Other Holidays

Let the drinking commence.

This concludes Nonsense’s list on how to celebrate the holiday’s. I hope you enjoyed and will reference this guide in the future whenever the holiday’s come round and you’re lost on how to celebrate. Thanks for reading and enjoy the holidays. Be safe!