UPDATES: NO ONE IS ALIVE IN WORLD

Did you see Cloverfield? What a great movie, huh guys. Yeah Roger Ebert ate it up. He ate it up so much he had to get another surgery. Yeah, that's a fat joke. Pretty good, huh guys.

So...Cleanest River's blog/site has fallen to a Chinese man. Yeah he came in, delivered some dumplings, then took it hostage. It was weird.

So...we're taking a break if you couldn't tell. Here's what's happening...like one of those um Real World Reunions.

Dan Leif is in Argentina right now. Farming. Yeah, usually you would think that's a joke being written on here. But it's true. It's super super true.

Jake Goldman is making cell phone wallpapers. He is also around NYC performing with himself, Barrett and Goldman, and the Future Mrs Goldman. If you want to hound him, go to this site: http://internetdogfist.com. He loves hounding.

Jessica Stickles is reading about ladies who live with wolves and children's shows. (weird because clearly this is me I'm talking about...lets make my story more impressive). She also is now breeding champion show dogs. One of them has won a prize for best hat in a dog show. She is performing around NYC and can be seen in Baby Grenade, Wolf Cougar Lion and on her own. Find her real estate at http://ladiesbeshopping.com.

Daniel Luddy is currently surveying roof tops. He can be seen performing in and around NYC. Also he's travelling on a train to everywhere next month. Try to catch him.

****

We'll be back soon...in some form...doing what we love most...making people more aware of babies, guns and murder. Please continue loving us, while we have an affair that doesn't involve your mommy.

Love from Biggie Smalls,
<3

12 words/phrases that better appear somewhere in my obituary

-Nunchucks
-Prarie dog
-Cannon
-Trick golfer
-Arrested for strangling Bryant Gumble
-Loose cannon
-Blob
-Tire
-Cannon ball
-Jalapeno poppers
-Juan Ponce de Leon
-Human cannon ball

I don't want your Aloe.

I wish the following things were available for free on the street:

- Umbrellas
- String cheese
- Stock portfolio advice
- Springs
- Harvey Wallbanger (the drink)
- Sparklers
- Ticker tape
- Harvey Wallbanger (the person)
- Self-dignity
- Ocean waves
- Harvey Wallbanger (the myth)
- Farmer's Almanacs
- Not pamphlets
- Spheres of fire?

Alas, all I get is samples of body lotion. And not even enough for my whole body. Who's making these decisions?

Show on Thursday

Yo. Yo. Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo.

We's performing "Staunton Chipmunk River Run," a show about love, life and suburban cougars, once again this Thursday at the Peoples Improv Theater at 154 W 29th St. Rumor has it that upon the completion of last week's performance, half of Staten Island turned into a giant HD television. So come this week...God only knows what effect our biting sarcasm and precision timing will have on other NYC boroughs. Will Queens become a wireless internet router? Will the Bronx morph into the idea of Bluetooth?

Joining us will be internet comedy phenoms POYKPAC (http://www.poykpac.com). They have nearly 11 times as many MySpace friends as us!

After Thursday, you will have only two more chances to see "Staunton Chipmunk River Run," a show about love, life and suburban cougars...

Aug 23 with Elephant Larry (http://www.elephantlarry.com/)
Aug 30 with Barehanded Wolfchokers (http://www.myspace.com/barehandwolfchokers)



Wait, I think Lower Manhattan is now an S-video adapter.

There's comedy happening!

Cleanest River at the Peoples Improv Theater (154 W 29 St betw 6 and 7 aves)
THURSDAY AUG 9 AT 8:00 FOR FIVE DOLLARS

With Philadelphia LEGENDS Secret Pants. They do sketch comedy and maintain water crafts ... at the SAME TIME. Holy piping pediatricians!

Come to this show or lose your dignity. This show will make you want to krunk dance with Mickey Rooney. After seeing this display of comedic tomfoolery, you will join Al Quaeda because nothing short of participating in a worldwide jihad will satisfy the unexplainable and far-flung urges floating through your recently detonated brain. This show will make you love yourself and hate your mom and feel indifferent toward most of your neighbors. When will flying cars finally become a reality? The minute this show starts, that's when. Go to it go to it go to it.

Feather Suffocation Lyrics!!!

I like starting my day with my favorite song by Feather Suffocation:

"You put a leg in the mouth of your new born baby brother"

I really love that song.

CLEANEST RIVER HAS SHOWS, HOS! Get REAL with them:

CRA presents "Staunton Chipmunk River Run"...

A gated community hell bent on keeping the hooligans out and the cougars in. I mean...those cougars hate football. So much so they refer to it as soccer. No worries about hooligans in Staunton. No sir (oh..ma'am...I couldn't tell).

Please join us and our special guest groups every THURSDAY in AUGUST. We will be performing at the People's Improv Theater in NYC at 8PM. Official details and schedule below. Come be a part of the magic of Sea World...

CRA: "Staunton Chipmunk River Run"
Every Thursday in August
8PM
People's Improv Theater
154 W 29th Street

Tix: 8$
Cheap beer and some lady drinks! Yes wine party ladies!

*****Special Guests*****
Aug 2- Murderfist!
Aug 9- Secret Pants
Aug 16- POYKPAC
Aug 23- Elephant Larry
Aug 30- Barehanded Wolf Chokers

Baby Makes Perfume Out of Credit Card

Whoa. You're probably reading this just thirsting for more info to clarify the title of this post. Sorry, there is none. You've been fooled. We really just want you to read this:

Cleanest River is live at the People's Improv Theater every Thursday in August. Shows are at 8 o'clock. A different group will sham-bab-a-bab with us each week. Grilling may or may not happen. Towels will play a prominent role. Musical guest is Nirvana.

Go to these shows.

Wonderful

The top story in most of Japan's news today was that a puppy was born with a heart on his stomach. The name of the story was "Celebrity Puppy Wows Japan."

Here is his photo:
In other news in Japan, a typhoon hit.


BUT LOOK AT THAT HEART!!!!

A Fantastic Idea for a Movie

The plot centers around 25 people waiting in line for concert tickets. They're out on a sidewalk. In Miami. The narrative goes back and forth between different conversations people are having. Some people meet others in line. Some people just keep to themsleves. But here's the thing: One of these people is actually a space shuttle. At first everybody avoids him, looking disparagingly at his rocket boosters and landing gear. "A space shuttle?" one old man says to his wife. "Hmmf!"

But then a little boy falls down, scrapes his knee. And who's there to help him up and rub a little antibacterial ointment in his cut? You got it. Good ole space shuttle. Soon, people are gathered around him, asking questions about the MIR space station and the possibilities of galaxies unknown. Everyone laughs at the space shuttle's jokes ("What did the solar system do after eating a big meal? Loosened its asteroid belt!") and the crowd bursts into applause after the shuttle's rousing rendition of Fiona Apple's "Criminal," which he sings acapella.

Then, just as the ticket window opens and everyone starts to move forward down the sidewalk, a bit regretful that this wonderful afternoon is coming to an end, the space shuttle takes off. Everyone looks up, eyes glued to the metallic wonder shimmering in the Floridian twilight. We see a close-up of a tear ... no face, just a tear, which itself has a tear. We also see two hands -- one white, one black -- come together for a slow-motion high five. But then the camera pans back to the space shuttle, and, in spectacular fashion, it blows to bits. The people in line are left dumbfounded, too stunned to cry, too deep in reflection to speak. A small mouse creeps toward the silent crowd. It squeaks softly, and the boy -- the same one who cut his leg -- picks it up and places it in his pocket. Sirens are heard in the background. A harmonica version of "Criminal" plays. Morgan Freeman walks on screen in a chicken suit. Slowly -- oh so very slowly -- the screen fades to black.

This movie will be called "Scream."

Another very compelling interview

The latest in our series of sit-down conversations with those individuals in society who may often get overlooked but are nonetheless important to everyone's well-being. Kind of like hands (really, we never stop to say, "God I love my hands," but if we didn't have hands, life would be, well, tough to get a hold on...hahahahahahaaha...sorry). So anyway, an interview with a true hand of American existence: the mailman.





Cleanest River: So when did you start delivering mail?

Mailman: Oh, sixth grade I guess. Had a paper route.

CR: Ah, so you were more of paper boy?

Mailman: Well, newspaper delivery is really a kind of mail. Gotta think broadly. Mail is about more than just what goes in your mailbox, you know.

CR: Uh, right. So what's your favorite part about the job?

Mailman: The flapjacks I'd say.

CR: We're not following.

Mailman: Well, every morning, all us mailmen wake up at dawn, cut down an acre or so of trees, then come on inside, take off our flannel shirts and have us some pancakes the size of your face. The hardest part of the job is keeping the axes sharp...

CR: Sorry, but you seem to be describing the life of a lumberjack.

Mailman: Nope. Life of a mailman.

CR: You mentioned cutting down trees.

Mailman: Exactly! Cutting down trees is part of the mail service. It's a wide-ranging industry. Some mailmen cut down trees, others design x-ray machines, some mailmen actually make the tides in the ocean.

CR: Okay, we know for a fact tides are the product of the moon and the rotation of the earth along its axis.

Mailman: Wrong. They're created by mailmen pedaling giant bikes underwater.

CR: How come we've never heard that?

Mailman: Mailmen in Congress keep it a secret.

CR: No one in Congress is a mailman!

Mailman: Keep on telling yourself that, cowboy.

CR: We're not a cowboy.

Mailman: I know. Cowboys aren't even cowboys. They're mailmen.

CR: Listen. Can we just have our mail?

Mailman: Oh sure.

[starts cutting down a tree]

CR: Hey, that's our oak!

Mailman: Got to get the mail distributed. Timber! [tree falls down]

CR: You're a real cock.

Mailman: Nope, I'm a mailman. [takes a giant bike out of his pocket, hops on and pedals off into sunset, whistling "My Girl."]

This Day in American History done as mad lib (inserted nouns,verbs,etc in CAPS)

1962 : Alcatraz proves escapable for two brothers and A BABY

John and Clarence Anglin and DAKOTA FANNING attempt to FIRE DANCE from Alcatraz federal prison. The three CATTLE PARADES were never seen again, and although some FLY AIRPLANES that theirs was the only ORANGE getaway from what was known as "THE POOP BOOBY," it is far more likely that they drowned in the CHILDHOOD MEMORIES OF LOSS. Four days after their escape, a WEASEL containing DUST, which belonged to Clarence Anglin, was found in GRANDMOTHER BOOBY. Escape From Alcatraz, both a J. Campbell Bruce DOG BOOBY and a Clint Eastwood HORSE, later dramatized the incident.

The three PARSNIPS began their UP AND DOWN escape by using stolen BADGERS to chip away at the cement near BRAINS in their cells. Creatively, they then SHIT fake grills out of NEVER ENDING STORY DVDS and painted them to match the originals. The BADGERS FROM EARLIER'S COUSINS made dummy heads and placed them in their BOOBY so that the guards would not notice them ARM TAN. Once outside, the three climbed over a LION'S NO NO PARTS and made their way out to the choppy ROBOT.

Over the years in which POOP TOWN was used as a prison, 36 RECTAL CANCER PATIENTS (in 14 separate BALLOONS) tried to escape. One GRADUATED WITH A BA FROM STANFORD; six were shot to DANCE; and five were never NOT AWESOME. The remaining were BOOBIES BOOBIES BOOBIES.

Why I smother people sometimes?

So I was hanging out in Brooklyn the other night. And what else do people in Brooklyn talk about other than living in Brooklyn. And how there's a waffle stand on every corner. So once we stopped talking about The Waffle Crook on the corner of Cut T-shirt Street and What is that, a bag you made yourself Ave, the conversation switched to Williamsburg, which is actually also in Brooklyn.

This kid...I think his name was Tap...Tap was talking about how "everything is always being built in Williamsburg...it's almost here, it's being built." So true Tap. So he goes on to say that he moved to Williamsburg and joined this gym that hadn't been built yet. And shock town on the corner of shock and town, this gym ended up being a scam and he lost his money and had to cancel his credit card. I felt bad about that because I had done something pretty similiar involving purchasing something off of Ebay (but luckily I did it through a site that will retrieve your lost wages). To finish Tap's story, he says "I mean...I really should have known better. You know cuz of the name and everything."

To which, I replied about 5 names of the possible gym which follow:
-Not a Real Gym Gym
-I'm Going to steal your money gym
-This is Really going to be an American Apparel Gym
-Yo!!!! Gym!
-Ass Titties Ass Titties Gym

To which, he replied...not getting anything at all, nor understanding anything at all, not even his own social security number...

"No it was like Reade Gymnasium."

After that I went outside and had a soy kabob and talked about how Brooklyn has a pretty great baseball team. Tap stayed inside and talked about his ballpoint pen. It was a good night.

Hat debate

Moderator: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

Andy (in front row): And children.

Moderator: Oh, I didn't realize there was a youngster here.

Andy: Yes. I'm 11.

Moderator: Okay. Glad you could make it. Anyway, we have a fine debate here tonight...

Andy: Could you say 'Good evening' and include me?

Moderator: What?

Andy: You only welcomed ladies and gentlemen. That's not me.

Moderator: Okay. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and children. We have tonight...

Mutant Fred (in third row): Um, what about me?

Moderator: What about you?

Mutant Fred: Well, I'm a mutant.

Moderator: I don't know what you're trying to pull...

Mutant: I was created in a pool of radioactive sludge using the DNA from a male human, a female rhino and a genderless piece of metal. Why do you think I look like this?

Moderator: I...I thought you were Jewish.

Jewish necktie (in first mezzanine): Hey, I'm Jewish!

Moderator: You're also a necktie!

Jewish necktie: And I should be welcomed to this debate!!

Moderator: I'm not reintroducing the debate for you. I don't even understand how you talk.

Jewish necktie: Magic, that's how. Now start again and mention me.

Moderator: No!

Jewish necktie: I'll yell then! RARARARARARARRARARRAAA!!!

Moderator: OKAY! Good evening, ladies and gentlemen...and children...and mutants...and neckties...and any other objects, inanimate or otherwise, who may be in attendance tonight. We are gathered for a debate...

Gallon of invisible ink [whereabouts unknown]: Hey, what about me?

Moderator: Who was that? Where are you?

Gallon of invisble ink: It's me. Invisible ink. You can't see me. And you didn't mention me when you said 'Good evening.'

Moderator: I specifically phrased it in a way to welcome everything.

Gallon of invisible ink: No, you said 'objects.' I'm invisible. Not an object.

Moderator: Oh, come on.

Gallon of invisible ink: Look it up, in the dicitionary. Go dictionary. Show him.

[Dictionary walks up on stage]

Moderator: Oh, for God's sake.

Dictionary: It's on page 456.

Moderator: OK, OK. yes, I see here it says in the definition for 'invisible' that 'invisible things cannot be considered objects.'

Gallon of invisible ink: Right-o. So kindly start again.

Moderator: Fine. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and children and mutants and all objects (inanimate or otherwise) and all things invisible...and anything else in any form anywhere. Now, we have...

The idea of fire: What about me!!

Moderator: [kills himself]

My favorite memories about the time I was born

-Covered in goo
-A pelican biting my eye
-Seven dogs singing
-Double the vagina right?
-Diagnosis of carpal tunnel syndrome
-Being shoved back in
-A necktie being put on me
-"You Can Go Your Own Way" By Fleetwood Mac playing
-Eyewitness 9 News Helicopter circling

Take that, Lincoln Memorial

Hey there, all you web-savvy savages. So we're doing a show in Washington DC tomorrow -- that is, Friday. And while most people would artistically represent our nation's capital with a picture of like a monument or a protest rally (yeah democracy!) or a belt on a scale (belt + weigh...it's like beltway...yeah? no? shut up), we're using this picture of a Washington subway stop. Why? Because this country was built on public transportation. Seriously. Mayflower. That shit was public. George Washington crossing the Delaware? That was more or less a tram. A public tram. Seriously, I have a point. Just trust me.

Anyway...the show. It's part of the DC Comedy Fest (which is more or less spectacular), and we're performing with these other NYC hoodlums called Trophy Dad. They are funny...like funny as a cow sex. So if you're in DC on Friday night, don't assassinate the Secretary of Agricultre. Come see our show. Then we can all go and plot a fantastic coup together. Subway stops!

Here:
Friday, April 13th (yeah, yeah, day of bad luck, whatever, go melt yourself onto bread)
10:30 pm
Cleanest River and Trophy Dad
The Mead Theater at Flashpointe
(916 G Street, NW, Washington, DC 20001; VIA METRO: Located just steps from the Gallery Place - Chinatown stop - 9th & G exit- on Metro's Red, Green, and Yellow Lines)

Thanks for always smiling.

On stage tonight! With a dictionary!

Hey YOU! We have a show today. TODAY. It's us and Slightly Known People (a group so good they'll make you forget all about that whole exploding-abortion thing you've been going through recently) together at the PIT at 9:30 pm. Our whole show is based on Webster's College Dictionary and a real dictionary is playing all the key speaking roles. The show is also directed by a dictionary (not the same one playing the major parts; that would just be ASKING for trouble). And in lieu of lights, dictionaries will be illuminating the stage area. Cost of the show is 5 dictionaries (with a two dictionary minimum). If you have any questions, send a dictionary to dictionary@otterholocaust.dictionary

genuine details:
Cleanest River and Slightly Known People
PIT Theater (154 W 29th St betw 6 and 7 aves)
930 pm, 5 dollars
Dictionaries will be seated first

There be all kinds of shows coming up

Hey, hey. It's Dale The Giant Rooster here to tell you to see some live sketch comedy. Go to a couple of these shows or I'll cover you in feed. Rooster feed!

Upcoming Cleanest River engagements:
-Thursday, April 5th at 7:30 pm
@ Galapagos Art Space (70 N. 6th Street in Brooklyn)
With Sketch This, Totally Awesome Victory

-Saturday, April 7th at 8:00 pm
@ Rififi Cinema Classics (322 E 11th St in Manhattan)
With Olde English

-Monday, April 9th at 9:30 pm
@ the PIT (154 W 29th in Manhattan)

-Friday, April 13th at 10:30 pm
@ Flashpointe Theatre in Washington DC
Part of DC ComedyFest

NOTE: GIANT ROOSTERS ARE ADMITTED FREE OF CHARGE TO SOME OF THESE PERFORMANCES

SECOND NOTE: CHICKEN SALAD = CIVIL WAR

THIRD NOTE: GIANT ROOSTERS DON'T WEAR TROUSERS (USUALLY)

Really...what would you do?

Have you finally figured out an answer to last week's business-etiquette question? You probably vomitted staplers and jerked yourself off in the data center because you were thinking so hard about it. Well, pull up a stack of year-end reports and sit on them...cause here comes another question, another TYPICAL, EVERYDAY situation that REGULARLY unfolds in offices from Portland to Portland (there's Portlands in two states and they're on each end of the country...wow!) Read the details and then choose what the correct course of action would be. You're such a doll, you.

SITUATION #2

It's one of those really hectic mornings at your corporation--a big client presentation, a going-away party for the retarded janitor Glerbaff (really, Glerbaff, that's her name) and the monthly flood drill (during which 64 million gallons of water are dumped into your building and everyone has to swim to the desert island on the eighth floor). Now, just as the flood drill gets underway and you start executing a perfect sidestroke through the executive assistant's cubicle, Frankie Muniz enters the office. Yeah, that Frankie Muniz -- of "Malcolm in the Middle" fame. "Oh crapstand!" you exclaim, relaizing you've forgotten that today is also the day you were scheduled to cover Frankie Muniz' face with butter. Muniz is standing there, in neck-deep water, glaring at you and waiting for his Land O Lakes facial. It's important that he receives this because he's made it clear that if his face is left unbuttered, he'll fill your entire office in with Staind CDs. But it's also important that you get to that desert island on the eighth floor with the rest of your colleagues. If you all don't all get there within 5 minutes, your CEO is gonna blow up Dubai (the blossoming Middle Eastern city-state that has the world's highest tennis court! I swear, that's true, it's like on 98th floor of a building). Good gracious. What do you doooooo?

a) Kill Muniz with the dagger you keep in your shoe and get to the island as fast as possible. (We're talking about a VERY important tennis court here.)

b) Start buttering up Muniz' face and use your sweet blue tooth head thing to call your co-worker Kenblicht and tell her to power up the hologram of you she keeps with her at ALL TIMES. That way, it'll appear to your CEO that you're on the island and he will spare Dubai and its high-altitude sports courts.

c) Find the retarded janitor Glerbaff and fuck her and fuck her and fuck her and fuck her until she does that weird mule-like whimper thing and drools on your dong. I mean, you have to stop then. That whimper's just sick.


Correct answer: THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR!

What would you do?

Think you know how to act in a business environment? Well, let's put your office-park IQ to the test. Read the following situation that OBVIOUSLY happens ALL THE TIME in corporate America and then read the possible courses of action you could take and then decide which one is right and then read further to see what you SHOULD do. If you choose the wrong response, you have to hang yourself in the nearest conference room. Seriously! Those are the rules. Okay...

Situation 1:
The chief mustard officer at your company is retiring so all the employees are invited to go out to a nearby recycling plant that evening so that you can all take turns dumping newspaper and cans on his forehead. But you already have post-work plans: You're supposed to kill six members of the San Antonio Spurs as they exit their team bus in Houston. What do you tell your supervisor (who reaaaaally wants you to go to the recycling plant so he can eat out your asshole)?

a) Tell your supervisor you can't go, but buy him a gecko with a huge butt so he can still lick shit off something.

b) Go to the recycling plant and pretend to enjoy yourself despite the fact that as you sit there tossing garbage at a mustard-department exec, six San Antonio Spurs are not being killed in any way.

c) Hack into the brain of the San Antontio Spurs' bus driver so that he unloads the team at the recycling plant instead of in Houston. When those six players get off the bus, unleash a gaggle of razorblad geese (geese that are born with razorblades on their feet, mouth and tailfeathers) and watch as they systematically destroy those basketball phenoms. When the geese fly off to battle the ghost of Waler Cronkite, collect the remains of the Spurs players and toss them at the mustard exec as your co-workers cheer and you asshole gets tongued.




Correct answer: X = 456.

Suck my clock

So this computer I'm using. It didn't change with daylight savings time...because daylight savings time got all pushed forward to stop global warming and save Darfur and help Americans cut down on caramel and stuff. So anyway, since the clock didn't change itself, I tried to move it forward on my own by doing some shifty double and single clicking on strategically placed icons. And I got the time correctly adjusted. However, just seconds later the computer went ahead AND CHANGED IT BACK. At first I scoffed and adjusted the time again, but the computer changed it back again. I tried again. It changed it again. Eventually I was told I would have to reboot to get the time to stay and I did so and that worked, but I think there's more going on than a simple software mishap. That is, the war with machines is under way, and we are facing an enemy we can't possibly defeat.

See, this computer knew what it was doing. I felt its hatred for me each time it changed the clock back to the wrong time. And yeah, I eventually got the situation resolved in my favor, but still this computer knows that whenever it's feeling up to it can change some numbers around. Turn 5:15 into 6:15. Make an AM into a PM. Make EST STD. And it knows that doing this will make me loopy as a lumberjack. I mean, what really do we have if we lose control of time? If I can't say for certain what time it is right now, at this exact moment, I can't say for certain what day it is, or what week it is, or what year it is. Even thinking about this makes a sliver of doubt drift into my head and it's whispering to me, softly but clearly...and with an Indian accent. It's saying: "You know, bad boy, it could be 1847 and there's nothing you can do about it." What if it is 1847? What if we're supposed to be wearing spurs and mining for copper and violently pushing our way through cliche saloon doors? What if I'm the sheriff and you're Billy the Kid? What if the Old West is new and YouTube is a ghost town? HOLY QUANTUM LEAP!

See, this is how the machines will fight us. Timekeeping is their version of a suicide bomber. We have all the mental and creative artillery, but they have this one weapon that we have no surefire we of stopping. Actually, maybe it's more of a nuclear weapon...because it can destroy us swiftly and completely. Maybe I should stop making military metaphors and build a sun dial. AHHA! That's it! Stop reading this now, and figure out alternate ways of timekeeping. Sun dials. Hourglasses. The counting of sunrises. There you go. You can't stop me now computer. You can't stop me now.