Milestones

Well, it sure as hell took me long enough, but we’re finally here! My 300^th Eighty-Four Glyde entry. You’ve come a long way baby! Of course it took my lazy, thin-skinned ass 12 years what I had planned to do in six. But oh well, better late than never, right?*

Over the last twelve years that I’ve been airing my inner demons via bad jokes and pointless observations about white people. I’ve had quite the existence. I’ve been sent to Iraq twice, I’ve moved nine times, have had six or seven jobs and assassinated four heads of state. Never a dull day for me!**

I started Eighty-Four Glyde in 2006, during my second tour in Iraq. This is a matter of historical record and can be easily verified in any reputable library. (Side note: with all the biopics they’re making these days, when are we gonna get a movie about that Dewey chap and the creation of his decimal system? The world awaits eagerly.) I started writing for a few reasons. I’ve covered them in depth in previous entries, so I’ll just skim here. I was a journalist in the Army and enjoy writing. I always liked the humor columnist Dave Barry and wanted to do something similar. This year was also when MySpace was gaining in popularity (I have no MySpace jokes. I’m going to let Tom rest in peace.) and it made a great platform for people trying to write, discover their talents and spread their work to the world. Unless you were Tia Tequila who chose MySpace to publicly document her decent into madness and obscurity.

I’ve covered a lot of topics over the years, from movies to Japanese porn, all the way to movies. It was truly a comprehensive list of subjects. I tried to never get political, though this blog has existed during Republican and Democratic leaders in office. Presidents come and go.

I took a year off in 2017. My head just wasn’t in the game and couldn’t think of anything funny that didn’t also open the door to my own issues. And I wasn’t ready to be that open to a bunch of (nonexistent), faceless people online. So a break seemed in order, perhaps maybe something more permanent.

You see, there’s been a huge shift in Internet content. People used to enjoy reading stuff online. But tides have changed. Amateur videos on YouTube are all the rage right now. These days people are more into images and symbols (like Wing Dings) than words. Why write the word “penis” when you can just post an eggplant emoji? (Also who decided that shit?) they say a picture’s worth a thousand words, and much easier to read. Lazy millennial bastards!

Sorry bout that. Anyway, with the sea change taking place online, people like me have to translate their skills because blogs and their ilk are relegated to the outskirts of the web. They still exist, they just get fewer visitors these days. Like your grandfather in a nursing home. Gee, that sounded darker than it should have. Let’s brighten the mood!

Everybody raise your Zima high in the air! Let us celebrate the past 12 years and 300 entries and pray (in English) to god I get some kind of book deal soon so I don’t have to do this for another 12 years!

*Wrong.

**Still wrong.

Eighty-Four Glyde Libs

For those of you who are unaware, or had terrible childhoods, Mad Libs was a word game for rambunctious kids during road trips. They were books that contained a couple dozen short “stories” a few paragraphs long that had certain words missing. The goal wasn’t to try and figure out which word was supposed to fit into the sentence, in fact, the kid guessing the word didn’t even know what the story was. One kid would have the book and every time there was a blank in a sentence, the book would altruistically tell you what type of word fit there, such as “noun”, or “adjective” or “part of body”, and the other kid just picks a noun or adjective at random. At the end the kid with the book would read the entire story with the words inserted and both younglings would laugh uproariously at the gobblety-gook they had created. Fun for everybody!

But who said Mad Libs are just for kids*? What happens when a group of fun-loving adults get together with some incredibly adult libations, decide to give in to their immature yearnings and do some Mad Libs?

You get Eighty-Four Glyde Libs, of course!

HOW TO SPEAK LIKE A SPY

Spies speak their own SLIMY language. Common terms include:

Target—a person or an APPLE of interest whom a spy watches come and CREAM.

Surveillance—to monitor or observe a FIRE with visual, listening, or FASTING equipment like cameras, satellites, or long-distance BALLS.

Bug—a FUNKY device that can be placed on an object such as a car, remote control, or CARphone to listen in on a target’s SWEATY conversations.

Alias—the name a spy uses-like Ronald McDonald or ASHLEY-while undercover.

Mole—a BLACK HOLE from one spy organization who gets a job within a rival STUMP organization in order to obtain inside information or other secret APPLES.

Classified—sensitive and DUSTY information that only certain levels of CHIPS have authorized clearance to access.

A SPY BIRTHDAY PARTY**

When I turned 15 years-old, my mom and ASS threw an AVUNCULAR spy-themed birthday party for me. I invited ten of my closest TURTLES, and we spent a HAIRY afternoon doing cool spy stuff. We slipped black sunglasses on our TOES, grabbed MEANDERING toy cell phones, and practiced our surveillance techniques with a game of hide-and-SQUATING around my backyard. We decoded COMFORTABLE messages that my parents had written on colorful BACTERIA. We pounded on a CHAIR-shaped piñata with a wooden HUMAN FLESH, and we put spy tattoos like binoculars, computers and micro-YURTS all over our EYES. Later my mom served cake and ZITS, and everyone sang “SPARKILY Birthday” to me. I got a ton of HEROIC gifts, but my favorite was the motion-activated MEAT that would alert me to any UVULAS about to sneak into my room. Every good spy needs one of these!

FROM THE SPY FILE

To Agent JOSH: At this morning’s SCRAPPY management meeting, it was decided by Agency Chief SNOOP DOGG that you are being assigned to the case known internally as Operation MILKING WART. This memo will provide the MOIST details of the case, and you will be briefed further in the coming week. As you may know, this case involves a band of FLAKEY thieves who stole the blueprints to a top-secret robot GOITER that threatens the security of our LUMPY country. They have hidden the prints somewhere in a STIFF location on the outskirts of the SAVAGE LANDS. Their leader’s name is Uno Ojo, which translates to FLEXIBLE COCK. You will know him by the black eye patch he wears over his TAINT. Be advised that he and his group of evil STARS are armed and BUMPY, so use extreme caution if you come face-to-HEMMEROID with any of them. As any good spy knows, you’re of no use to the agency if you’re PUNGENT.

*Mature adults who don’t understand the concept of fun and who sit in their depressing office cubicles trying to buy Crocs for their dogs or some shit. That’s who!  

**Yes, these are all spy related.