Avery Edison's Internet Diary

“When are you gonna mention me on the internet?”

- Someone I like very much, in her sleep.

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Sometimes you think you’re the furthest away from yourself you’ve ever been, and then you realize that you’re just a different you than you expected.

And then you type silly pseudo-profound things on your Tumblr because it’s Sunday and who gives a crap.

Two guys come up with a scoring system for their new game.

- Okay, so when you score a point, that’s one point, right?

- Nah. It should be, like, 15 points.

- Yeah, make it more exciting. Like, right away - boom! 15 points! Deal with that, opponent.

- Okay, so… every time you score a point, you actually get 15?

- Correct. Well, for the first couple points. But then once you’re up to 30, the next time you score you only get 10 more.

- Wh- which brings you up to 40 points..?

- Uh-huh.

- This isn’t making much sense to me.

- Well, most games are so boring. We gotta liven things up. Shake the system around. Dare to do the unexpected.

- So the scoring -if I’m getting this right- goes zero, 15, 30, 40.

- Mmmmmaybe instead of “zero”… No, you’re gonna think this is stupid.

- I’m sure it can’t be more imbecilic than anything else you’ve suggested.

- Well, how about “love”?

- …I was wrong.

Fan fiction about my two friends.

Jenny walked into the coffee shop. She was wearing her long blonde hair down and lightly curled, and wore a t-shirt that expressed her love of Pink Floyd, just like her friend Avery had asked her to. She found it a little odd that Avery had requested that she wear specific clothes just to meet for coffee, but then, she supposed that Avery could be a little odd now and then. It was one of the quirks that everyone loved Avery for.

As she scanned the tables, looking for her best friend in the whole world (and someone who should probably be her next of kin), she couldn’t see Avery anywhere. It was very unusual for Avery to be late - Avery was always very considerate of her friends, and the few times that she was late it was always for a good reason that everyone should have been much cooler about. Jenny thought.

She kept searching, and was shocked to see Philip sat at one of the tables, over near the corner. Why was Philip here? Did he know that Avery and Jenny had been planning to meet, and come himself to spy on them or something? (These kinds of suspicious thoughts were something that always plagued Jenny, and to be honest it was something that Avery put up with like a saint whenever they threatened their friendship.)

Jenny strode over to Philip’s table, looked him up and down, and got ready to unleash a tirade of accusatory questions. She would probably use a fair few expletives, since she hadn’t taken that anger management class that Avery had recommended.

“What are you doing here?” Philip asked, before Jenny could even open her mouth.

“Me? What about you? I’m supposed to be meeting Avery for coffee, although she’s late, and… ohhhh…!” It finally dawned on Jenny what Avery had cleverly done. She had set this whole thing up to get Philip and Jenny to go out on a date with each other. Jenny had been complaining for weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks that she was single, but not doing anything about it, so Avery had finally taken a pro-active stance on behalf of her friend.

“Wait, is that a Dark Side of the Moon shirt?” Philip asked.

“Yeah! It’s signed by the lead singer of the band Pink Floyd, whose name I know, but who Avery doesn’t.”

“Wow, that’s a really cool piece of musical memorabilia. It makes me interested to learn more about you as a person. Plus, it’s okay that Avery doesn’t know that guy’s name. No one person can know everything.”

They spent hours in the shop together, discussing music, movies, father issues, sports, how great Avery was, more stuff about cool things Avery did, Avery’s great fashion sense. Finally, as the store was closing, they went their separate ways - but not before planning a second date.

“Next time we meet up, Jenny, I think we should do it at Avery’s house. But do you know when she’s not going to be around?”

“Well, yeah - I keep her schedule memorized so that I can be at her beck and call like a good friend would. Why?”

“Let’s throw her a surprise party! For matching us up like this!”

“Oh, Philip, that’s the best idea ever! I love you!”

They hugged.

“I love you too, Jen. But not as much as I love Avery.”

“Right,” Jen replied, “it goes without saying that the love we share with each other pales in comparison to the love we have for Avery.”

The End.

On if I ever die.

Look, guys, it could happen. People die every day, and things are especially risky for me because I’m so attractive and beautiful. Someone could be struck by my gorgeousness while driving their car and lose concentration and plow right into me. Or somebody could see me in a café, become captivated by my looks and effortless grace, and start stalking me, eventually killing me in a terrible murder-suicide.

Heck, I could even become lost in my own reflection in a body of water and fall in and drown. These are all likely possibilities, and it’s only through luck and guile that I’ve made it this far. We should all consider ourselves lucky (that I’m still here).

So, with that out of the way, I need you to know something about what you should do if I die. Or rather, what you should not do. To be blunt: do not hire anybody to take part in my funeral in any capacity unless they have 100% hearing in both ears.

I saw a TV show once where everyone thought a guy was dead, and they put him in a coffin to be cremated, and he woke up when he was on the conveyor belt moving towards the oven, and the guy operating the furnace didn’t hear the muffled cries and knocks coming from the box because he was totally deaf.

Guys. Guys. Let’s not take the risk that that could happen, alright? When we’re hiring folks to take part in my extensive and protracted funeral arrangements (you’re probably going to want to have a bunch of different services - people grieve in different ways, and I am beloved by so many members of the worldwide community), let’s just rule out anybody who has any kind of disability. Just to be safe.

I know that that sounds discriminatory, but if anyone raises a fuss, just remind them of this blog post. They’ll slowly nod with understanding and say “oh yes, I remember where I was when Avery posted that hilarious piece at half past nine on a Saturday even though she knew that as a result of posting it at such a time it would not receive much attention.”

They will start to weep, I assume. They’ll dab their eyes with a tissue and say “truly, she was better than all of us,” and that will inspire my epitaph.

---

Also, please don’t hire any Scottish as pallbearers. They will get confused and think they have to “toss the caber”.

My humps.

Jesus:  Ugh. Why did they make the Eye of the Needle so damn small!?
Judas:  I think you've just overloaded your camel, man. Maybe take a few packs off of its back?
Jesus:  What, and make half a dozen trips just so I can get all my stuff through? No. This damn beast is carrying everything I own through that gateway, and it's doing it now.
Judas:  I don't think the camel is gonna do much of anything, Jesus. He's looking pretty exhausted. Near dead, I'd say.
Jesus:  Oh, don't tell me I'm gonna have to resurrect it again.
Judas:  What?
Jesus:  I mean, uh, you know... give it CPR? The kiss of life? For... for camels?
Judas:  Have you been using your powers to extend the lifespan of this poor creature so that it'll carry all of your shit for you?
Jesus:  Do you know how expensive good pack animals are, Judas? I had to steal thirty pieces of silver from your piggy bank just to afford *this* one.
Judas:  You're paying me that money back, asshole.
Jesus:  Whatever. You honestly expect me to buy a *new* camel every time the old one dies, when I could just as easily bring the former back to life?
Judas:  How many times have you pulled this poor creature back from beyond the veil?
Jesus:  We don't need to go into numbers, Judas.
Judas:  Oh my god. His eyes. They're all bloodshot and rheumy. It's like he's stared into the abyss.
Jesus:  I'm sure he's fine! Look, he's smiling!
Judas:  That's a *grimace*. He's in pain.
Jesus:  I don't think animals can grimace.
Judas:  Is he... is he whispering "kill me"?
Jesus:  That doesn't seem likely.
Judas:  Neither does a beast of burden coming back from the dead. Multiple times.
Jesus:  ...
Judas:  ...
Jesus:  It's just that I think we could call the thirty pieces of silver a *gift*.

In the coffee shop

clapifyoulikeme:

Avery: Look at those girls.
Me: Yes, they seem to be good friends.
Avery: They must be having sex! They’re both so good looking!

Backstory.

“How could you possibly think these would fit me? I’m a thirty-six year-old woman, for God’s sake!” Her fist shook as she screamed at him.

“Well, I thought maybe you could… I don’t know? Wear thinner socks? The pattern is just so adorable! Look, please just take them. I can’t return them - they were on sale.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, a migraine forming.

“I don’t care what you do with the damn things, just get rid of them. I can’t believe you thought this was a good idea. Maybe we need a break.”

---

The next day, an ad appeared in the local paper:

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

Recruitment.

Jesus:  Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.
Simon:  Sounds great!
Jesus:  Not in a gay way, though.
Andrew:  Uh, okay.
Jesus:  I just needed to make sure nobody was mishearing my words. You hear what happened to John the Baptist when he asked that chick for some head?
Judas:  This is not as spiritually fulfilling as I had hoped it would be.

A riddle.

Question:

One man is using special equipment to stop the heart of another, while a policeman watches. Why doesn’t the policeman arrest him?

Answer:

If you said that the first man is a doctor performing a life-saving triple-bypass surgery on the policeman’s partner, you’re wrong.

The correct answer is this: the policeman is bad at his job.