Writes


Letters
Company Pen
Betting On Trump
How Many Toilets?
Lost Nickle
Dear Airline
Dear Senator Vasconcellos
Dear CBS
Dear Carolina Panthers
10 Questions From Americans
Dear Toys R Us...
Small On Top?
The Benjagon
Use Those Weather-Sticks
Einstein Didn’t Know His Barber Could Cook
I Want Your Clutter
Hello, Coca-Cola?
The Question About The Bill
10 Interview Questions


Dreams
Do I Own A Snake?
Fourth Is Enough
7 Year Living Room
Water Bowl
Overboard
Team 3D and The Finger
Coin Bringer
Turtle Dancing and Jell-O World
Team 3D vs. The French
Almost Spiderman
Killing The Old For Books
Closet Snake
Walking Out
Outside My Casino
Todd Took My Beer
Wednesdayding Lake
Vegas Clean Out
U.S. History Quiz in Tijuana
Uri and I vs. Lewis and Tyson
Team 3D 'Cleans' House
Shopping School
Talking to G-d in a Toy Aisle
Witness to a Dream
Bill Clinton's Pep Talk
Team 3D and the 3D Girls vs. The Purple Maori Theater Seat Thieves
North Africa vs. South Africa
Team 3D vs. The Invisible Yellow Llama -or- Zoo Island
Sparing Bonnie Hunt
Quarters for Dogs
Telling Her Off
Killing in Defense
Team 3D vs. The Ozone Blob
Mega Work Dream
Risking Life and Limb Over World War Two Germany
Pastry Bunnies
Dave and Ben vs. Ted Danson
Cory Car Club
Team 3D in New York
Yael's Book Opening Sword
Ten Foot Tall Piece of Fridayed Chicken
Web Hostage
Sky God
Team 3D vs. The Mall Wave
Nose Vines
U.F.I. Mining Town
Girls in Torture-land
Benjamin's Elevator Shaft Shower and the Golden Cross
Me, Kenn, Some Russian Guy, and Fire...
Team 3D vs. The Storm Crane
Two Dreams
Team 3D Detectives
Two Things Wrong
The Musical
A Shave and a Spot
Hawaii 500
Moving In
Japan's Crack Super Parachute Commando Squadron!

 
FBI Buddy
 
There’s this band, maybe you’ve heard of them, called The Ramones. They’re no more now, but they left behind a whole bunch of songs that all sound the same and all kick ass. One of them goes on and on about how “the KKK took my baby away.”

Well, that’s the tune I’ve been humming all morning. Why? Well, one of my best friends just took a promotion where he works, which requires him to relocate to Virginia – the state. He also just so happens to work for the FBI. So, I took that Ramones song and reworked it a little bit, “the FBI took my buddy away…” GET IT!?

Yesterday, a group of us went over to his house for a little farewell and good-luck party thrown by his parents. Apart from the repeated congratulations that his wife is pregnant with everyone’s soon to arrive newest buddy, Dave and I tried to offer up whatever wisdom we could scrape together.

I mean, really, what can you say to your friend who’s moving to Virginia for a super special job for the FBI? Dave and I dug deep into out collective knowledge, realized in no time that all we know is from movies, and then presented our great pal with what seemed to be, at the time, and endless supply of thoughts, advice, and council.

“Buddy,” we said, “don’t be a dick. You know how when the local authorities have the place surrounded, and they’re about to send someone in to negotiate, and then the ‘Feds’ show up and then all the local cops get pissed? Don’t do that.”

“Just because the guy’s demanding a helicopter and all that unmarked money, it doesn’t mean you have to give it to him. We know that the FBI’s funding is limitless, but come on, it’s old already.”

“OOH! If you want to practice, you should totally play Tom Clancy’s Rainbow Six games on your PlayStation. That’s totally cool, very covert-op kind of stuff, and secretive too. Hell, just read some Tom Clancy books.”

“Does this mean you’re going to be like Harrison Ford in Patriot Games and Clear And Present Danger? DO YOU GET TO MEET HARRISON FORD!? That’s cool.”

See how much we know about the FBI!? And we never had any kind of training or study in national security! Easy…

Anyway, my pal is moving up in the world. He’s a G-Man and for a good long while that impressed me, but now I know that being a G-Man means he gets to go on all kinds of wild adventures – adventures that mean he’s going to explore the farthest reaches of the world where, even though hundreds of henchmen working for an illegal drug cartel might be firing all sorts of semi-automatic weapons at him, only his Hum-V will burst into flames and be destroyed and he’ll simply walk away slightly dirty, shirt slightly torn, and his fist still holding on to his top secret briefcase.

Oh, and his name’s not ‘Buddy’. He has a much more real, much cooler, much more agent-ish a name than ‘Buddy’. I’m keeping his true name secret, you know, for his protection.