I'm A Flag

It's Canada Day Eve and everyone's giving me a hard time because I already have my Maple Leaf shirt on and it's the wrong colour, so they say. But don't you think it's heavier than the original? And less red? Seriously, though, what's with all the red? I'll be enjoying my Canada Day, but I won't be participating in the anthem singing because I hate the anthem. I think it's dull and the lyrics suck. Nothing against my country, which I love dearly.
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© 2010. Statements by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Two for the Road

Two things quick while I remember them. I might forget them. First of all, if you buy new furniture, don't let anyone sit on it or lie on it or it won't look new for much longer. Just arrange it in your living room and tell everyone to either stand or sit on the floor. Now, about the history of rock. I think it mentally precedes electricity. I am convinced that a song like The Mob Rules was playing in the heads of rampaging Frenchmen with Viking blood during the French Revolution - for example. Just because it didn't get recorded doesn't mean it wasn't already there.
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© 2010. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Don't Panic

I normally avoid headlines these days when I'm passing the news stand at the convenience store, but today's was just so compelling that I must share it with you here. Now, folks, don't get too excited about this. The G-8 is Taking Two Paths. I realize I should be exhilarated, but instead I'm concerned. It confuses me. Eight countries, two paths. Doesn't that leave only four countries? Or does it double them to sixteen? And yet they still insist on being called G-8. And seeing the G-8 in the news reminded me of how much I think of them every day - even when they're not in the news. I think of what kind of neckties they might be wearing there. I agonize over whether or not they will let in Turkmenistan - and if that brings it to G-9 or G-8 and 1/2. And if one of the countries has a Civil War, they might have to change the number, too. People think I don't care. I fucking care.
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© 2010. Statements by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Scrabble Anyone?

I just had the funnest dream. I went in to a restaurant that was filled with gorgeous women and I was checking them out and they were showing off their stuff. I went up to buy a cheeseburger and when I turned around I expected them to be gone, but they were still there. And they were gyrating around like the Pussycat Dolls, trying to get my attention. All of them. So I went over with my burger and sat down at one of their tables. And then they started talking to me about really interesting stuff. Each girl was somehow fully informed of my favourite issues. And they were so entertaining in their stories, I forgot how sexy they were physically. But I was now being turned on by their personalities. These were the sexiest personalities I've ever encountered. Just so effervescent. It excites me now to think back to it. And one of them was about to give me her impression of a shirtless basketball player, and I was utterly fascinated, when I woke up. But at least I'll always remember how great it felt.
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© 2010. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Boy Who Caused Earthquakes

There's a great old Night Gallery with Rod Serling called 'The Boy Who Predicted Earthquakes.' It's about this kid who yaps and yaps and yaps on the news and everyone just groans and waits until he comes out with a killer hard rock composition. And then the kid looks fuckin supreme - even with his John Denver glasses and straight blonde hair. I'm telling you this is a great Night Gallery. Find it if you can.
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True Story

I like dogs and sometimes cats. I dislike birds. And I had a very trying experience once when I was left alone with a rabbit. It was my friend's rabbit. Not one of those fluffy white ones, but a spotty looking, evil one. When no one else was looking he would transform his ears into horns and his buck teeth would turn to fangs and he'd scare the shit out of me. He only did it to me. He mustn't have liked me. And I was staying with my friend at the time. The first time he had to leave I asked him not to go. But he said he wouldn't be long. I asked him if I could put the rabbit in the cage, but he didn't have a cage for it yet. Just got it. So that was that and off he went. Me and the rabbit stared across the room at each other for what seemed like ages. And his quivering started to rub off on me. I lost control of my facial muscles there for a short time. But I looked into his eyes long enough to guess his intentions. I began grabbing furniture and appliances and sealed the rabbit in the bedroom. It took about half an hour to plug all the holes. I heaved a sigh of relief. Then a sound broke through the barrier. A horrible sound. The sound of carpet munching. Folks, you've never heard anything like this. It is utterly terrifying. It sounds like ants or something. Thank goodness my friend got back before I had a heart attack. He took a look around and seemed bewildered by the state of the apartment. But I then explained it to him.
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Jabbing in the Dark

I probably complained about this at some earlier time but I can't believe how impossible it is not to slip up with your web searches any more. Too many phrases have been added to dirty language. Back in the 70's there used to be this inflatable clown that you could punch in the head and it would fall back and spring to its feet again - that's right, for another punch! And another and another. Growing more and more rapid. I just couldn't remember its name. Something like 'PunchMe Bob' or 'The Clown Who Won't Go Down' or something. Anyway, so that's what I'm looking for in my web search. And it thinks that these clown punches that start slow and grow more and more rapid is masturbation! Gosh you people have dirty minds out there. And I still don't know that fucking clown's name. And besides that, what kind of people go online to look up masturbation? Wouldn't it be more likely they were looking for the clown's name? I just don't get this world sometimes.
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Get Them When They're Sleepy

Hanging in there the next morning after breaking down two more times at 11:56 and 12:00. Talking in my sleep I'm not counting. Nor do my farts count. Yawning is very expressive. Excuse Me. 'ER-ER-ER-ER-AAAAAAAAGH!YEEAH!YEEAH!YEAAH!' That feels better. Almost a sexual feeling to it now. I wonder if single women alone on the couch let out a yawn and suddenly feel a new side of themselves awakening within them. The side that wants to surrender to animal urges because they feel so darn swell. And as she yawns, she stretches her limbs out helplessly...
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The Views

About the views on my videos. I thought they were wrong since they didn't seem to correspond to the reaction I got from the public, which was usually obvious. But now I know they had it set on countries, rather than individuals. That's why it's such a small number.
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© 2010. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

How Can You Say No To This Face?

I think girls in revealing clothing are kind of cold to the strange men who might be trying to kiss them on the bus. I can't think what I'm doing wrong. I open my eyes wide so I can let them know I'm paying full attention to them. I open my arms to invite them for a nice hug. (But I curl my fingers in case I need to grab them to prevent them from falling down or something.) I flare my nostrils to let them know I'm sniffing their perfume. And I let out my tongue so none of my drool lands on my chin and makes me look bad. What more can I possibly do?
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