Category Archives: Sixes

Customer Service

* For a brief explanation about this project, please click here.

Good to see you again sir.

Again? Have we…have we met before?

No sir, I just remember you from your photograph.

Oh. The uh-right, you’ve seen my picture because of the, okay. I get it.

Yes. And how can I help you?

I’m here to collect those photographs actually. Jennifer Cross.


And you are?

Her boyfriend.

John. Correct?


Oh… Steven?



Darren! Almost got it. How was your vacation Darren?



Yes. How did you-

I love Hawaii.

Okay, this is a little strange. You shouldn’t, uh, you shouldn’t really be looking at our photographs.


But how can I determine if they’ve been suitably processed?

No, I get that, but you shouldn’t be looking at them.

How can I avoid looking at them sir?

You just can. I don’t know. Just don’t look at them. Don’t interpret the photographs.

Sir, I see a photograph and instinctually contextualize it. Like words. I cannot not read a word.

No. No. This isn’t cool. I’m not okay with you investigating my life.


A photograph is a memory. A citation. A bookmark placed on a point of significance during one’s life.

A photograph is a personal memory man. It belongs to me. Not you.

Well, that’s where our opinions differ sir. You handed this memory to me. And I made it so.

What? What are you talking about?

My machine and I brought your memory into the physical world Darren. And in doing so it became my memory too. Such are the consequences. These are our photographs. Our memories.

I want to speak to your manager. This is just completely inappropriate.


How is Jennifer?

Don’t ask about her. Don’t even mention her. You don’t know her.

I’m afraid I do. She likes olive oil on her bread and she’s learning the Ukulele. Correct? Of course I am.

Give me my photographs you fucking creep!

They’re my photographs too. Haven’t you been listening?

I’m calling the police, man. This is fucked.

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A Money Hole, Stupid


* For a brief explanation of this weird project please click here.

What do you think it is?

Uhhh….a money hole.

A money hole? That’s stupid.

You’re stupid, stupid.

I’m not stupid, stupid. You’re a stupid stupid face.

……..No I’m not.


Let’s get a stick.


From a tree dummy.

Stop being mean to me!

Okay, I’m sorry. Go get a stick.

What’s the magic word?


Thank you.

If you find any money then it’s mine since I was the one who said it was a money hole.

That’s not how it works.

How does it works then?

I keep the money because I found it. You get the stick.

If you find money and don’t give it to me I’m telling.


I think I feel something!

Lemme see!


Hey! I’m telling! Let me see!

You’re too little, stupid face.

Shut up! I wish you were dead.


Hey, come back. I’m sorry. Tyler I’m sorry.

No you’re not. You’re a big fat stupid meanie.

If you stop crying and don’t say anything to mom, I’ll give you half.

Half of what?

Half of all the money we find.



Okay, I think I hooked something! It’s probably a tweny or fifty!!

Quickly quickly pull it out!!


What is that?

I don’t know, it’s…it smells like…ewwwwww!

That’s it! I’m telling! Mom!!!

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Sixes – Korea Peoples Asia Pussy

Based on true story that happened to two friends of mine last weekend.


Hello my friend!

Hello? Can uh, can I help you?


What uh, what can I do for you?

You know the Asians?


I think you’ve got the wrong house, man.

It’s in this this buildings no? The Asians? Here.

There might be people from Asia in here, but I don’t know everyone here.

No the Asians? Korea peoples?




Try the intercom thing. You see, that thing there?

No no friend, this thing is no good. I need the pussy.


The pussy. Asian pussy.


Korea peoples Asia pussy.


Okay, I think maybe you’d better –

Hookers. I want it.

I really don’t think there are any of those here.

I need it. The hookers. Big hookers.

Have you – What’s that on your wrist?



Which hospital did you come from?

I don’t know. Friend, where the pussy?

No, no the hospital. Which hospital?

It’s a big one. My friend, the Korea hookers I wanna see.

Uhh. This is too much man.

No, no, no too much. I have the money. See see?


It’s early dude, go away, I’m just not in the mood for this right now.

This the door?

The door to what dude? No hookers here. No me gusta, fuckin’, hookers, por fa-fuckin’-vor!


Just get the fuck outta here man.

Yes! Fuck. I wanna the fuck all the big Asia pussy.

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Where’s that accent from?

Based on the same conversation I have every single day about my f**king accent.


What can I get for you?

Can I get a…wait. Hold up. Where’s that accent from?

Same place I’m from.

Funny. Where’s that?


Oooh. Okay.


Australia? No. Do I sound Australian?

I guess, a little. I don’t know. Just foreign.


New Zealand?

What?! That’s almost the same accent as Australia. No. Way off. Culturally, physically, and aurally.

South Africa maybe?


I’m Northern European. Look at me. I’m really, really white. I’m from the source.

God, I don’t know. Ireland maybe?

Scotland. I’m from Scotland. It’s a Scottish accent.

Scotland! That was my next guess. Wow. Scotland eh?


My friend’s been to Ireland.


It is the same.

Shut up, no it isn’t. They’re different countries. I’m just being a stupid American.

Honestly. Alcoholism, depression, recession, Anti-English sentiment. It’s the same place.

I think the UK sounds awesome. Old buildings and like the history and stuff. Culture, you know?

I think you’re mostly thinking of London.

Maybe. But Scotland is probably dope too right? Like castles and nature and stuff right?


I mean, you should always have a return ticket though.

I think I’m like one eighth…Scotch? Scottish?


Scottish. And then like there’s some Dutch, a little German, and maybe like a sixteenth Native American.

Really? That’s an interesting mix. I’m just Scottish.

Well, I think that’s better. You get the accent and stuff. I just get this.


You do have one. This is what you sound like. You sound like this.

Oh my god! Shut the f**k up. That’s freaky. You actually sound American.

I am. I have an audition tomorrow. I’m actually from Fresno.

Oh my God! Shut the f**k up right now! I actually believed you were from f**king Scotland!

I’m joking. I am actually from Scotland.

Okay, now I’m confused. Anyway listen, what’s a good Scottish cocktail?



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The Hierarchy of Facebook Approval

Based on real conversations I have every day with my friend Kyle.

It’s a numbers game.
What is?
You’ve got to get your numbers up.
Fucking nonsense.

You’ve got to get your numbers up.
For what? What do the ‘likes’ even mean?
They mean people like something.
What people? Like what? Like you?
No. Just like what you said.
But why? Why do you care? Likes are not currency. They never run out.

Look, I got 28 ‘likes’ on my last status.
I don’t care.
I got 28, and your last status got…
I don’t give a fuck mate. I makes no diff-
Seven ‘likes’.
What?! Who cares!?!

Yeah baby, 29 ‘likes’ and oh, Janine Woodford says ‘LOL’.
I hate Janine Woodford, she sounds horrible.
She is. But still, a ‘LOL’ is one step higher than a ‘like’.
This is the hierarchy of Facebook approval? Where does a ROFLOL fit into it?
It goes: ‘Like’ bronze medal, ‘Comment’ silver medal, and ‘Share’, gold fuckin’ medal, baby.
One of your acquaintances saying, ‘Look at this thing this guy I know said, on Facebook’ is as good as it gets then eh?

It’s a game we all play, just some of us play it better than others.
Bullshit. You know what I think it is, I have a higher caliber of friends.
Nah. That’s not it. My friends are on point. They reflect me.
Exactly. Your friends are clapping seals and your status updates are haddock.
And what, your friends are a bunch of scientists and your status updates are beakers or something.
I do actually have scientist friends, so go fuck yourself.

You try to hide your personality. You’re all miserable on there, like a wet sock on a Monday morning,
Cute, is that your next update?
I think it might be.
No one’s going to ‘like’ that.
…………………….Oh! Janine Woodford likes this!
Fuck Janine Woodford. Let me see her.



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Shit’s Still Hard



S’cuse me mam?

S’cuse me. Mam?


I, eh, I couldn’t trouble you for a dollar, for the bus, could I?

I’m sorry. I don’t really have anything.


You live around here?

I’m sorry?

Do you live around here?

Yes. I do.

Me too. Up at the US Bank.



Do you think I look like Mike Tyson?

Eh, I don’t know what he looks like.

People say I look like him.

What do you say?

I say he looks like me.

That’s a good answer.


But I eh, I’m on that three strikes thing. You know that?


Well, it’s like this: I been to jail two times, one more and they throw away the fuckin’ key. Pardon my Spanish.

I’m really sorry to hear that.

That’s okay. I’m fightin’ it. And don’t nobody want to fight with someone who looks like Mike Tyson.

Or someone that Mike Tyson looks like…


But it was the drugs, you know?


Terrible things. You don’t take the drugs. They take you.

That’s what people have told me.

Been clean for over two years now. But shit’s still hard. Pardon my German.

I’m sure. But you’re doing really well.


I see that you’re married.

Uh huh.

Well, don’t you tell your husband this, but you make my heart beat so hard.

That’s so sweet. Thank you.

Don’t you tell him now. And I’ll be on my way. You have a wonderful day now.

You too. You too.

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Touch me & See – Based on a True Story

* This just happened next to me in Starbucks.

Try it.

Please sit down sir.

Touch me.

Sir. Sit down please.

Touch me.

Sir. Please. Will you please sit down please?


Touch me.

What’s gonna happen if I touch you?

Touch me and see.

I’m not gonna-

Touch me. Touch me and see.



Touch me.

Sir, you’re going to have to leave.

Touch me and see.


Touch me. Touch me and see. Touch me.

I’m not-


Touch me and see.

What’s going to happen?

Touch me and see.

What’ll happen if I touch you?

Touch me and see.

Touch you and see?


Touch me mother fucker.

I don’t want-

Touch me and see.


Touch me. Touch me. Touch me and see.

No. I’m not touching anything.


Can anyone see I’m shakin’?

We’re going to have to call the police sir.

So who gonna touch me?

Nobody sir. Nobody’s gonna touch you.

Someone gonna fuckin’ touch me, and someone gonna fuckin’ see.

Okay sir, I’m just gonna-



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Girls – Based on a True Story

* This happened to me twenty minutes ago as I stood outside Ralph’s with a guy I know from work.

Oooft, you see da girls man?
Yup, I see them.
Where you think they going?
To the fashion school.
Oh yeah? Maybe we too.
Nah, I don’t think so man.

Hey baby! Hey!
So you like the white girls then?
Eneeting man.
Everything. Awesome.

Black, whiiite, Mexicaaaan. Eneeting man.
You don’t have a preference?
No preferance man. Pussy. I love-ah da pussy.
You have da preferance?
I don’t know. Probably the same.

I like-ah the fat ones.
Ah like-ah da big titties, and da big ass. Haha.
I like tattoos.
Oh, I have-ah tattoos.
No, I meant girls with tattoos.

My tattoo is of fly.
You have a fly tattoo?
Ona my deek.
You have a fly tattoo on your dick?
Yeah man! Fahkin’ fly on my deek.

I have-ah him too man!
You have a Jesus tat too?
Yah, he do the crying. Crying da blad. See?
Oh yeah. Quality man.
Hey chicas! *Click *Click*
Does ‘chicas’ mean girls?

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Your Dash

What’s your dash going to tell people about you?
Your dash. What’ll it say?
I don’t get it.
On your tombstone. Your dash.
I still don’t know what you mean.

Okay, so your stone will read Jim Collins, 1980 eh…
Right, of course. I knew that. 1984 to….whenever.
See that dash in between the day you’re born and the day you die? That’s your dash.
Ah, okay.

So what?
What’s it going to say?
Nothing. It’s a dash.
No, you’re thinking too literally.
It’s a weird question, I don’t really know how to answer it.

I know what mine will say.
What will yours say?
“Here lies a man that cheated the hand that God gave him.”
I like that.
So what about yours?
I’m not sure. I’ve never thought much about death.

The mark of a man is how he treads that dash. Remember that.
I will.
Because it isn’t long. It’s only about this long.
Well, it’s measured in years, not distance.
You really think that?
I’m not sure.

Son, you live it like you’d be happy to die.
Like ‘each day is your last’, kind of thing?
Not quite. More like, ‘In death, your unfinished business will never be held against you.’
Okay, how about this? ‘John Collins. 1984 – whenever. Died happy.’
Yeah, I like that.
Thanks dad. So why are you telling me this?

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Whasssup boy? You shinin’ like a new toy.


Come on Roy, spread some of that joy!

What joy? What are you talking about?

That stuff you got, it looks real hot.

Nah man, nah. I don’t understand.


So tell me, where you gaun, and where your coming from?

Dude, are you speaking only in rhymes?

I speak in rhyme all the time.


People’s give me dimes to rap in rhymes.

Honestly? That’s crazy.


So where you from Shaun?


Nebraska, Nebraska. That near Alaska?

You know it isn’t.

It’s pretty near up in here.

Just because they sound close doesn’t mean they are close.


So lemme see some of that money honey.

I don’t have anything.

Sure you do, just a dime or two.

I don’t have anything.

How’s about you buy a bit and I’ll sell you some shit?

Yeah? What are you gonna sell me?


So what do you say Neil, we got us a deal?

I guess. When will it start working?

You’ll feel it start, like a knife to your heart.

I dunno man. I don’t feel anything yet.

Should be starting right about….now.

Oh yeah I got it. Alright man, I’m glad I bought it.


So how does it feel?

It feels pretty good. But you know, I never thought it would.

It aint so bad is it?

No. But lemme start at the top, how do I make it stop?

Same way I did fool. Pass it on for a couple of dimes. See ya.

Aw man, now I’m pissed! What fucking idiot would wanna buy this?

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