It seems that there is a growing trend in Hollywood to over indulge in plastic surgery, often with disastrous results. So as a public service to clueless celebrities everywhere, I’m here to tell you, that you know you’ve had too much plastic surgery when…
Your plastic surgeon names his yacht after you.
You find yourself peering out through your nostrils.
Just the sight of cutlery in a restaurant compels you to lie on the table and demand anesthesia.
You’ve had enough skin, fat and bones removed from you to create your own personal Mini-Me.
A three thousand-year-old mummy comes to life and asks you who your embalmer was.
People start to mistake your belly button for a tracheotomy hole.
A waiter enraged by your lousy tip throws the coins in your face and they ricochet off with enough force to kill three by-standers.
Your breasts are so large that they qualify for their own zip code.
You are the reason your plastic surgeon has carpal tunnel syndrome.
Frightened villagers armed with torches and pitchforks start chasing you around.
Madame Tussaud’s thinks creating a wax figure of you would be redundant.
Joan Rivers, Michael Jackson and Cher get together and have an intervention for you.
If this doesn’t win me some kind of humanitarian award I don’t know what will.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Friday, July 28, 2006
Just say no...
Yet another very strange story has emerged in the news. This one involves a disturbing trend among teenagers who are getting high by sniffing mothballs. I know what you’re thinking… " How the hell do those kids even know which moths are male?" No, I’m talking about the other kind of mothball, the ones used to keep moths from eating your clothing.
Anyway, I would just like to take a few minutes to "rap" to any young people out there who might be thinking about mothball sniffing. Like, don’t do it man…it won’t make you a "cool cat" or a "groovy chick" and it’s a gateway to the harder stuff.
Sure, you start off just sniffing a few mothballs with your friends on the weekend, but before you know it, you’re snorting athlete's foot powder or "huffing" spray-on deodorants. Then one day you’re hustling on the street for money to buy the Preparation H you are injecting directly into your veins. I’ll bet it doesn’t sound so "cool" now, does it.
This message brought to you by the National Organization to Prevent Kids from doing Really Stupid Stuff.
Anyway, I would just like to take a few minutes to "rap" to any young people out there who might be thinking about mothball sniffing. Like, don’t do it man…it won’t make you a "cool cat" or a "groovy chick" and it’s a gateway to the harder stuff.
Sure, you start off just sniffing a few mothballs with your friends on the weekend, but before you know it, you’re snorting athlete's foot powder or "huffing" spray-on deodorants. Then one day you’re hustling on the street for money to buy the Preparation H you are injecting directly into your veins. I’ll bet it doesn’t sound so "cool" now, does it.
This message brought to you by the National Organization to Prevent Kids from doing Really Stupid Stuff.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Head butts and butt heads...
A jockey recently found himself in the news, not for winning a race but for head butting his horse. This has got to be one of the more bizarre bits of news I’ve heard in a while. Even his "apology" was a little strange: "I’m very sorry they had to see such a thing". To me, that sounds a little like "yeah, I’m sorry…sorry I got caught!" You’d think he’d be a bit more contrite considering it was done in front of a lot of people and recorded on video tape.
Anyway, I believe that a large part of the blame for this incident should go to Zinedine Zidane. You know, that idiot soccer player who cost France the world cup when he head butted an Italian player in the chest.
Also, I predict that this is only the beginning and this kind of thing is going to spread worldwide. Corporate executives will be head butting the guys in the mailroom, teachers will start head butting unruly students and George Bush will head butt every reporter he sees.
A deed that was once only committed by soccer hooligans and professional wrestlers will soon be common among distinguished scientists and gray haired grandmas. I’m not a biblical scholar, but I think this is one of the signs of the apocalypse…I’ll have to look it up. In the meantime, I’m off to buy myself some stock in an aspirin company…and a helmet.
Anyway, I believe that a large part of the blame for this incident should go to Zinedine Zidane. You know, that idiot soccer player who cost France the world cup when he head butted an Italian player in the chest.
Also, I predict that this is only the beginning and this kind of thing is going to spread worldwide. Corporate executives will be head butting the guys in the mailroom, teachers will start head butting unruly students and George Bush will head butt every reporter he sees.
A deed that was once only committed by soccer hooligans and professional wrestlers will soon be common among distinguished scientists and gray haired grandmas. I’m not a biblical scholar, but I think this is one of the signs of the apocalypse…I’ll have to look it up. In the meantime, I’m off to buy myself some stock in an aspirin company…and a helmet.
Monday, July 24, 2006
From deep inside the vault...
Today I am pleased to share with you a couple of items from the official drive-by blogger collection of cultural oddities.
Not many people know that before Charles Schultz came up with his very successful comic strip PEANUTS, he produced a few that didn’t make it. Among the earliest of these is this strip inspired by Schultz’s fascination with the Paris art scene of the 1920’s:
Switching his focus to the great writers of the same period, he came up with this:
Undaunted by the failure of these strips and determined to create a comic inspired by his love of high culture, he also tried these ideas: Coconuts, based on Paul Gauguin’s life in Tahiti and Totally nuts, about Dali and the other surrealists.
Sadly, there don’t seem to be any surviving examples of these strips. However, I am in a bidding war for an original manuscript of children’s nursery rhymes by Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard…wish me luck.
Not many people know that before Charles Schultz came up with his very successful comic strip PEANUTS, he produced a few that didn’t make it. Among the earliest of these is this strip inspired by Schultz’s fascination with the Paris art scene of the 1920’s:
Switching his focus to the great writers of the same period, he came up with this:
Undaunted by the failure of these strips and determined to create a comic inspired by his love of high culture, he also tried these ideas: Coconuts, based on Paul Gauguin’s life in Tahiti and Totally nuts, about Dali and the other surrealists.
Sadly, there don’t seem to be any surviving examples of these strips. However, I am in a bidding war for an original manuscript of children’s nursery rhymes by Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard…wish me luck.
Friday, July 21, 2006
Casanova in lederhosen...
A volume of previously unpublished letters by Albert Einstein is shedding light on the famed physicist’s extra-marital affairs. According to some reports the letters indicate that Einstein had about half a dozen girlfriends. I guess it makes sense, his wild hair, bushy mustache and rumpled clothes... what more could a lady want? Anyway, here’s one of the Teutonic lothario’s love letters to one of his ladies dating from 1931:Dearest M,
Thank you for the wonderful gifts you sent me, the meerschaum pipe, the ivory mustache comb and of course the imported silk underwear. However, I must ask you to refrain from sending any more nude photographs of yourself or at least send smaller ones. They have accumulated to the degree that I’m having difficulty finding a safe hiding place for them.
The conference will be over in three or four days and we can get together then. I can assure you that "little Albert" has missed you terribly. By the way, my hot little strudel, have you given any thought to that three-way that I mentioned last time we met in Düsseldorf?
Passionately yours,
AE
Einstein, his wife and girlfriends…just imagine that on the Jerry Springer show.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Rock the Casbah...
Back in April it was reported that Osama Bin Laden released an audio tape recording containing one his usual rants. However, what wasn’t mentioned is that in addition Osama has released a music CD, on which he performs songs he has written himself, presumably hoping to appeal to young people. Thanks to my sources in the CIA, I’ve managed to obtain a copy:
Personally, I think Cat Stevens is behind this.
Personally, I think Cat Stevens is behind this.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
A bit of family history...
Someone once asked me if I was the only member of my family to take up writing. Actually, their exact words were "Are there any other scribbling malcontents in that lunatic asylum you call a family?" Choosing to ignore this rudeness, I proceeded to tell them about a journal kept by my great-grandfather during his ill-fated attempt to be the first person to reach the North Pole. I humbly submit these excerpts for you perusal:
March, 4 1907
In an effort to acclimatize my self to the cold I sat in a bathtub filled with ice shavings from a nearby ice cream parlor. My wife is still mopping up…and swearing like a sailor I might add. I didn’t even know she knew some of those words.
March, 10 1907
Gave two weeks notice to old man McGinty at the factory. God, I’ll miss the old place. Sure, making asbestos is hard work, but it’s a trade with a real future. It’s the wonder material of the age I tell you. Note to self; see doctor about clearing up this cough before leaving on trip.
April, 3 1907
I’ve managed to assemble what I believe to be a hardy and steadfast crew:
"Fritzy" Mueller, a sausage stuffer from Pennsylvania who weighs over three hundred pounds but assures me that it’s all muscle.
"Cubby" Rothington III, the black sheep son of a wealthy Boston family is also helping to finance the expedition.
And finally, a one eyed former gold miner known only as "Slim" who claims to be 1/16 Eskimo, will be our guide.
May, 22 1907
Arrived at Ellesmere Island, disappointed to find only three of my sled dogs are huskies. The rest are a mixture of breeds ranging from Collies to a Dachshund whose legs don’t even reach the ground when he’s in the harness. The little fellow is all heart though…I think I’ll call him Doxy and make him our mascot.
June, 18 1907
It is with great sadness that I must record that "Fritzy" Mueller has eaten our mascot Doxy. Rations have been running low and apparently six hours without food was more than he could stand.
June, 27 1907
Our misery continues unabated. "Slim" who has been suffering from frostbite in his one good eye, has fallen into deep crevasse. It was the final straw for "Cubby" who had already become very unstable. He ran off into the frozen landscape, screaming something about finding Santa’s workshop and performing unnatural acts on the elves…we have not seen him since. So, that just leaves "Fritzy" and myself to carry on. It will be difficult, but I believe that if we stick together we can still make it to the pole.
July, 9 1907
I’m afraid that I had to shoot poor "Fritzy". For days he had been looking at me very strangely and last night I awoke to find him pouring salt on my leg. I tried firing a warning shot, but he would not turn loose my leg. What my next move shall be…is uncertain.
As it turned out, his "next move" was to hightail it home and leave the honor of being the first to the North Pole to Robert Peary. The expedition did leave its mark on my great-grandfather though. My great-grandmother said for years after he would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night screaming "Fritzy, I’m begging you…drop the salt shaker!"
March, 4 1907
In an effort to acclimatize my self to the cold I sat in a bathtub filled with ice shavings from a nearby ice cream parlor. My wife is still mopping up…and swearing like a sailor I might add. I didn’t even know she knew some of those words.
March, 10 1907
Gave two weeks notice to old man McGinty at the factory. God, I’ll miss the old place. Sure, making asbestos is hard work, but it’s a trade with a real future. It’s the wonder material of the age I tell you. Note to self; see doctor about clearing up this cough before leaving on trip.
April, 3 1907
I’ve managed to assemble what I believe to be a hardy and steadfast crew:
"Fritzy" Mueller, a sausage stuffer from Pennsylvania who weighs over three hundred pounds but assures me that it’s all muscle.
"Cubby" Rothington III, the black sheep son of a wealthy Boston family is also helping to finance the expedition.
And finally, a one eyed former gold miner known only as "Slim" who claims to be 1/16 Eskimo, will be our guide.
May, 22 1907
Arrived at Ellesmere Island, disappointed to find only three of my sled dogs are huskies. The rest are a mixture of breeds ranging from Collies to a Dachshund whose legs don’t even reach the ground when he’s in the harness. The little fellow is all heart though…I think I’ll call him Doxy and make him our mascot.
June, 18 1907
It is with great sadness that I must record that "Fritzy" Mueller has eaten our mascot Doxy. Rations have been running low and apparently six hours without food was more than he could stand.
June, 27 1907
Our misery continues unabated. "Slim" who has been suffering from frostbite in his one good eye, has fallen into deep crevasse. It was the final straw for "Cubby" who had already become very unstable. He ran off into the frozen landscape, screaming something about finding Santa’s workshop and performing unnatural acts on the elves…we have not seen him since. So, that just leaves "Fritzy" and myself to carry on. It will be difficult, but I believe that if we stick together we can still make it to the pole.
July, 9 1907
I’m afraid that I had to shoot poor "Fritzy". For days he had been looking at me very strangely and last night I awoke to find him pouring salt on my leg. I tried firing a warning shot, but he would not turn loose my leg. What my next move shall be…is uncertain.
As it turned out, his "next move" was to hightail it home and leave the honor of being the first to the North Pole to Robert Peary. The expedition did leave its mark on my great-grandfather though. My great-grandmother said for years after he would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night screaming "Fritzy, I’m begging you…drop the salt shaker!"
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
For your eyes only...
I don’t know about anyone else, but I was surprised to read that a man had actually been arrested for trying to sell Coca-Cola’s secrets to Pepsi. Secrets? Are they talking about the "secret formula" that’s used to make Coca-Cola? I always thought that that was a myth, you know, a marketing ploy. Anyway, even if it does exist, why such ruthlessness in keeping it a secret? Could it be that there’s some ingredient in it so appalling that if it were made public it would bring the company to ruin?
We here at the Drive-by Blogger laboratory have decided to get to the bottom of this and have started analyzing this beverage to discover the "secret" ingredient that makes Coke "the real thing". We’ve still got a lot of testing to do, but we’ve narrowed it down to these substances:
Pork fat
Cough syrup
Ragweed pollen
Monkey glands
Orphan sweat
Low grade plutonium
Ectoplasm
Hobbit toes
McDonald’s special sauce…you’re next.
We here at the Drive-by Blogger laboratory have decided to get to the bottom of this and have started analyzing this beverage to discover the "secret" ingredient that makes Coke "the real thing". We’ve still got a lot of testing to do, but we’ve narrowed it down to these substances:
Pork fat
Cough syrup
Ragweed pollen
Monkey glands
Orphan sweat
Low grade plutonium
Ectoplasm
Hobbit toes
McDonald’s special sauce…you’re next.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Stars among the stars...
Well, the space shuttle was launched a few days ago, even though there still seemed to be some disagreement among the experts at NASA regarding safety issues. If I ruled the world I believe I could solve that problem as well as find a way to generate a lot of money for future missions.
Instead of sending up intelligent people who possess valuable skills, I would create a new reality show called "Celebrity Space Shuttle" and send groups of desperate, attention grubbing celebrities into space. Ok…so they can’t all be celebrities, after all we can’t expect these idiots to actually fly the damn thing, but most of the "crew" would be celebs.
Viewers would be able to vote someone off the shuttle every few days and those people would then have a rocket pack strapped to their backs and be shot off into deep space. I know this is bad news for the losing celebrities, but if your gonna make an omelet, you gotta break some eggs.
The sole surviving celebrity would then return to earth and get a book deal or something. Since it’s my idea, I get to pick the first group to go and these are my choices and why I picked them:
Michael Jackson, because I’m pretty sure outer space is where he came from anyway.
Regis Philbin, he thinks he can sing…he has actually recorded a CD…he is quite possibly insane…he must go.
Ashley and Mary-Kate Olson, since the combined weight of these two is less than one normal person we get to count them as a single celebrity
Howard Stern, just tell him that there are quadruple breasted lesbian strippers on Mars…I’m sure he’ll go for it.
Joe Rogan, my personal choice to be voted off first, we’ll find out if fear is a factor for him.
Donald Trump, I want to see the effects of zero gravity on the world’s most famous comb-over.
If the show was a hit we could do another one involving a submarine, the Mariana Trench and celebrity torpedoes…fingers crossed everyone.
Instead of sending up intelligent people who possess valuable skills, I would create a new reality show called "Celebrity Space Shuttle" and send groups of desperate, attention grubbing celebrities into space. Ok…so they can’t all be celebrities, after all we can’t expect these idiots to actually fly the damn thing, but most of the "crew" would be celebs.
Viewers would be able to vote someone off the shuttle every few days and those people would then have a rocket pack strapped to their backs and be shot off into deep space. I know this is bad news for the losing celebrities, but if your gonna make an omelet, you gotta break some eggs.
The sole surviving celebrity would then return to earth and get a book deal or something. Since it’s my idea, I get to pick the first group to go and these are my choices and why I picked them:
Michael Jackson, because I’m pretty sure outer space is where he came from anyway.
Regis Philbin, he thinks he can sing…he has actually recorded a CD…he is quite possibly insane…he must go.
Ashley and Mary-Kate Olson, since the combined weight of these two is less than one normal person we get to count them as a single celebrity
Howard Stern, just tell him that there are quadruple breasted lesbian strippers on Mars…I’m sure he’ll go for it.
Joe Rogan, my personal choice to be voted off first, we’ll find out if fear is a factor for him.
Donald Trump, I want to see the effects of zero gravity on the world’s most famous comb-over.
If the show was a hit we could do another one involving a submarine, the Mariana Trench and celebrity torpedoes…fingers crossed everyone.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
By any other name...
I don’t remember whom it was but someone once said that the term housewife could be replaced with the title of domestic engineer. I think this idea could be used to add a degree of prestige to other kinds of jobs as well. So I’ve taken it upon my self to come up with a few new titles for some old familiar jobs:
Ingress and egress facilitator (doorman)
Mood enhancement technician (bartender)
Vintage vehicle re-circulator (used car salesman)
Genital hygienist (prostitute)
Surplus currency solicitor (beggar)
Feral canine wrangler (dog catcher)
Dinning surface reorganizer (bus boy)
Refuse coordinator (garbage man)
Animal parts distributor (butcher)
Follicle reduction artist (barber)
Tubular meat facsimile dispenser (hot dog vendor)
Now I’ve just got to come up with some names for non-paying jobs…like blogging.
Ingress and egress facilitator (doorman)
Mood enhancement technician (bartender)
Vintage vehicle re-circulator (used car salesman)
Genital hygienist (prostitute)
Surplus currency solicitor (beggar)
Feral canine wrangler (dog catcher)
Dinning surface reorganizer (bus boy)
Refuse coordinator (garbage man)
Animal parts distributor (butcher)
Follicle reduction artist (barber)
Tubular meat facsimile dispenser (hot dog vendor)
Now I’ve just got to come up with some names for non-paying jobs…like blogging.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Scout's honor...
Having grown up in a large urban area, I’d always associated the Boy Scouts with things like camping and…umm…more camping. So I was surprised to learn that the list of merit badges that can be earned includes Architecture, genealogy and chemistry. Anyway, this got me thinking of starting a branch of scouting just for kids who live in the city. Here’s a list of the merit badges that "City Scouts" will be able to earn:
Traffic dodging
Subway tunnel spelunking
Recycling crack vials
Hostage negotiating
Panhandling
Turnstile jumping
Pimp slapping
Switchblade handling
Tranny spotting
Elevator surfing
Three card Monte
Pigeon plucking
The Boy Scout motto is "Be prepared", so I think we’ll need one that captures the essence of the City Scouts…maybe something like "What’re you lookin’ at" or "I swear, he was bleedin’ when I got here". Now all we need are uniforms and we can start molding the future leaders of America.
Traffic dodging
Subway tunnel spelunking
Recycling crack vials
Hostage negotiating
Panhandling
Turnstile jumping
Pimp slapping
Switchblade handling
Tranny spotting
Elevator surfing
Three card Monte
Pigeon plucking
The Boy Scout motto is "Be prepared", so I think we’ll need one that captures the essence of the City Scouts…maybe something like "What’re you lookin’ at" or "I swear, he was bleedin’ when I got here". Now all we need are uniforms and we can start molding the future leaders of America.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Death, be not humble...
I have an email subscription to a website called Celebrity Death Beeper. Whenever a celebrity buys the farm I get an email telling me about it. A little morbid perhaps, but I like it. However, lately I have become concerned about the quality of "celebrities" that have been included.
For example, of the last six or seven "celebrities" to kick the bucket, I’d only heard of three of them and one of those was the dog from the TV show Frasier. Now, I don’t blame the site, I can see where you wouldn’t want your subscribers to go too long without hearing from you, so you use the term celebrity in the broadest sense.
No…I blame the celebrities. They’re just not dying the way they used to. James Dean, Marilyn Monroe and Jimi Hendrix…those were noteworthy celebrities dying in a newsworthy fashion. Too many of today’s stars are health and fitness nuts. Where is the excess, the reckless over indulgence that used to a big part of the Hollywood lifestyle?
Oh sure, you have a few celebrities doing there part for this grand old tradition, like Kate Moss reportedly snorting any white powdery substance within fifty feet of her and for a while Billy Joel would occasionally crash his car into something, but it’s just not enough.
So I’m asking all of you A and B list celebrities out there to put down your bottled water, fire your personal trainer, pick up a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a pack of smokes…just to get things started. Remember, for best results your demise should untimely, unexpected and if at all possible, spectacular.
Hell, at this point I’d even settle for D list celebrities…
Kathy Griffin, are you listening?
For example, of the last six or seven "celebrities" to kick the bucket, I’d only heard of three of them and one of those was the dog from the TV show Frasier. Now, I don’t blame the site, I can see where you wouldn’t want your subscribers to go too long without hearing from you, so you use the term celebrity in the broadest sense.
No…I blame the celebrities. They’re just not dying the way they used to. James Dean, Marilyn Monroe and Jimi Hendrix…those were noteworthy celebrities dying in a newsworthy fashion. Too many of today’s stars are health and fitness nuts. Where is the excess, the reckless over indulgence that used to a big part of the Hollywood lifestyle?
Oh sure, you have a few celebrities doing there part for this grand old tradition, like Kate Moss reportedly snorting any white powdery substance within fifty feet of her and for a while Billy Joel would occasionally crash his car into something, but it’s just not enough.
So I’m asking all of you A and B list celebrities out there to put down your bottled water, fire your personal trainer, pick up a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a pack of smokes…just to get things started. Remember, for best results your demise should untimely, unexpected and if at all possible, spectacular.
Hell, at this point I’d even settle for D list celebrities…
Kathy Griffin, are you listening?
Friday, June 30, 2006
The genius of Leonardo...
It would seem that my good friend, the eminent scholar Monty Dingham Smythington, has had a stroke of good luck recently. He tells me that he was hired by Bill Gates to research and translate a notebook of Leonardo da Vinci that Gates purchased for 30 million dollars in 1994. According to Monty it contains a large number of ideas for inventions that once again show how very far ahead of his time Leonardo was. Here are just a few that Monty mentioned in his letter:
An automated lice picking machine.
A steam powered escalator.
The pocket fisherman.
Aromatherapy.
Edible underwear.
Pictionary
The Chia pet.
Nose hair trimmers.
Inflatable love dolls (gender unspecified)
The Mood Ring.
A foolproof “gaydar” machine (which Monty says was better left unfinished, as it probably would have exploded in 15th century Florence).
To be honest with you… I think that either Bill Gates really got ripped off or my old friend has started drinking again.
An automated lice picking machine.
A steam powered escalator.
The pocket fisherman.
Aromatherapy.
Edible underwear.
Pictionary
The Chia pet.
Nose hair trimmers.
Inflatable love dolls (gender unspecified)
The Mood Ring.
A foolproof “gaydar” machine (which Monty says was better left unfinished, as it probably would have exploded in 15th century Florence).
To be honest with you… I think that either Bill Gates really got ripped off or my old friend has started drinking again.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Welcome to poetry corner...
I was going to enthrall you with a three thousand line epic poem of mine that was inspired by that miracle of nature known as photosynthesis. Sadly, I can’t seem to find it, so instead here are some limericks inspired by low budget horror films:
There was a werewolf named Lee
A murderous beast was he
Your flesh he would shred
Until you were dead
Then on your leg he would pee
There once was a mummy named Betty
Who was late with her husband’s spaghetti
He began to smack her
Then used a weed whacker
Now she’s a big pile of confetti
There was a zombie from France
Who truly did love to dance
One night as he twirled
His intestines unfurled
And soiled his best pair of pants
There once was a man called Jack
A proud necrophiliac
The girls he preferred
Were always interred
Though the digging was hard on his back
There once was a doctor so smart
A monster he built à la carte
But you could tell by one glance
At it’s tight fitting pants
The Doc had forgotten one part
A vampire with a bad attitude
Flew off in a terrible mood
To the Arctic he did go
Where he dined on Eskimo
Only to find he didn’t like frozen food
Well, I’ve got to go…that lost epic isn’t going to rewrite itself.
There was a werewolf named Lee
A murderous beast was he
Your flesh he would shred
Until you were dead
Then on your leg he would pee
There once was a mummy named Betty
Who was late with her husband’s spaghetti
He began to smack her
Then used a weed whacker
Now she’s a big pile of confetti
There was a zombie from France
Who truly did love to dance
One night as he twirled
His intestines unfurled
And soiled his best pair of pants
There once was a man called Jack
A proud necrophiliac
The girls he preferred
Were always interred
Though the digging was hard on his back
There once was a doctor so smart
A monster he built à la carte
But you could tell by one glance
At it’s tight fitting pants
The Doc had forgotten one part
A vampire with a bad attitude
Flew off in a terrible mood
To the Arctic he did go
Where he dined on Eskimo
Only to find he didn’t like frozen food
Well, I’ve got to go…that lost epic isn’t going to rewrite itself.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
America's Most Wanted Kiddies...
It was reported in the news last week that the officials of a New York City public school called the police on a six- year old boy, who they said had "thrown a tantrum and kicked a vice-principal". Previous to this incident the police had been called in because of a five-year old boy who allegedly "bit a teacher’s ankle".
We here at the Drive-by Blogger (and by we I mean me) say kudos to the strong leadership shown by these brave school officials in dealing with these pint-sized menaces to society. For too long these diminutive delinquents have run roughshod over the public school system. So, as a service to the Board of Education, I’m posting their top ten most wanted list…
1. Bill Weston, age 5: charged with carrying a concealed water pistol and inciting others to run with scissors.
2. Scott Jansen, age 5: charged with starting food fights and mooning the other children during show and tell.
3. Suzy Pollan, age 6: charged with attempting to blackmail her teacher with the "funny pictures" of her and the janitor the girl found while rifling her teachers desk.
4. Timmy Dugan, age 5, a.k.a. "The Wedgie Kid": charged with inflicting willful damage to other people’s underwear.
5. Robert Vega, age 6: charged with waging a vicious spitball campaign against a semi-retired (and completely clueless) substitute teacher.
6. Mary Sheldon, age 6: charged with extorting money from other children by threatening to sneeze on their lunches.
7. Ricky Smith, age 5: charged with attempting to kill the class’s pet hamster by feeding it his grandfather’s high blood pressure medicine.
8. Luke Fontana, age 5: charged with distributing pirated copies of Barney and Dora the Explorer.
9. Fred Wilson, age 5: charged with deliberately disorganizing the supply closet, also suspected of eating paste.
10. Rachel Tratsky, age 5: charged with flushing one hall pass, three erasers and her teacher’s keys down the toilet.
As John Walsh might say… "Come on America, let’s bring these low-lifes to justice!"
We here at the Drive-by Blogger (and by we I mean me) say kudos to the strong leadership shown by these brave school officials in dealing with these pint-sized menaces to society. For too long these diminutive delinquents have run roughshod over the public school system. So, as a service to the Board of Education, I’m posting their top ten most wanted list…
1. Bill Weston, age 5: charged with carrying a concealed water pistol and inciting others to run with scissors.
2. Scott Jansen, age 5: charged with starting food fights and mooning the other children during show and tell.
3. Suzy Pollan, age 6: charged with attempting to blackmail her teacher with the "funny pictures" of her and the janitor the girl found while rifling her teachers desk.
4. Timmy Dugan, age 5, a.k.a. "The Wedgie Kid": charged with inflicting willful damage to other people’s underwear.
5. Robert Vega, age 6: charged with waging a vicious spitball campaign against a semi-retired (and completely clueless) substitute teacher.
6. Mary Sheldon, age 6: charged with extorting money from other children by threatening to sneeze on their lunches.
7. Ricky Smith, age 5: charged with attempting to kill the class’s pet hamster by feeding it his grandfather’s high blood pressure medicine.
8. Luke Fontana, age 5: charged with distributing pirated copies of Barney and Dora the Explorer.
9. Fred Wilson, age 5: charged with deliberately disorganizing the supply closet, also suspected of eating paste.
10. Rachel Tratsky, age 5: charged with flushing one hall pass, three erasers and her teacher’s keys down the toilet.
As John Walsh might say… "Come on America, let’s bring these low-lifes to justice!"
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Questions, questions, questions...
During my last stay at my favorite mental health facility, I managed to slip one arm out of my straitjacket and with a crayon I had secreted upon my person, I wrote down a few of the deep questions that were on my mind at the time…
If so many people are ready to believe that Jesus was married and may have modern day descendants, how come these same people aren’t at all worried about Satan’s potential progeny? I mean if Jesus fathered a child isn’t more than likely that Satan put a few "buns in the oven" in his time?
Does anyone else out there believe that movie studio executives are using a "Magic 8 Ball" to decide what films to make?
Why is it that a baseball player can face a 90 mile an hour fast ball while 50 thousand fans are screaming their heads off, but a golfer who hears the click of a single camera looks at the offending photographer as though he has just strangled a kitten?
Is there any practical reason why the lid on the tank of my toilet weighs almost as the lid of King Tut’s sarcophagus?
Did no one in the opera world ever see the irony of Luciano Pavarotti playing the role of a "starving" poet in "La Boheme"?
How is it that in a world where people constantly complain about the large number of television commercials that they’re forced to endure, QVC (which is basically commercials without programming) can be so successful?
Does anyone really believe that the conductor of a symphony orchestra is anything but a glorified timekeeper?
I did have more questions, but it was at this point that my crayon broke.
If so many people are ready to believe that Jesus was married and may have modern day descendants, how come these same people aren’t at all worried about Satan’s potential progeny? I mean if Jesus fathered a child isn’t more than likely that Satan put a few "buns in the oven" in his time?
Does anyone else out there believe that movie studio executives are using a "Magic 8 Ball" to decide what films to make?
Why is it that a baseball player can face a 90 mile an hour fast ball while 50 thousand fans are screaming their heads off, but a golfer who hears the click of a single camera looks at the offending photographer as though he has just strangled a kitten?
Is there any practical reason why the lid on the tank of my toilet weighs almost as the lid of King Tut’s sarcophagus?
Did no one in the opera world ever see the irony of Luciano Pavarotti playing the role of a "starving" poet in "La Boheme"?
How is it that in a world where people constantly complain about the large number of television commercials that they’re forced to endure, QVC (which is basically commercials without programming) can be so successful?
Does anyone really believe that the conductor of a symphony orchestra is anything but a glorified timekeeper?
I did have more questions, but it was at this point that my crayon broke.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Bill, we hardly knew ye...
As you may already know, Bill Gates has announced that he’s stepping down as the head of Microsoft to concentrate on his charity foundation. As noble as that may be, you know that a real "go getter" like Bill Gates is going to be busy with other things as well…things like:
Trying to talk Oprah, Donald Trump and George Lucas into doing an all billionaire version of "The Surreal Life".
Perfecting that 3D pornographic software he’s been promising himself.
Catching up on thirty years worth of "Field and Stream" magazines he hasn’t had the time to read.
Bribing as many officials as it takes to get legislation passed that will change the caption on all US currency to read "In Nerds We Trust".
Finding a way to permanently alter the human genome and rid the world of jocks once and for all.
Conducting exhaustive research on the bible to prove that his name is mentioned in there…somewhere.
Using GPS technology and a team of professional explorers to map the gigantic 125 million-dollar house he lives in.
Seriously Bill, if you find yourself having trouble burning through all that money…I’m here to help.
Trying to talk Oprah, Donald Trump and George Lucas into doing an all billionaire version of "The Surreal Life".
Perfecting that 3D pornographic software he’s been promising himself.
Catching up on thirty years worth of "Field and Stream" magazines he hasn’t had the time to read.
Bribing as many officials as it takes to get legislation passed that will change the caption on all US currency to read "In Nerds We Trust".
Finding a way to permanently alter the human genome and rid the world of jocks once and for all.
Conducting exhaustive research on the bible to prove that his name is mentioned in there…somewhere.
Using GPS technology and a team of professional explorers to map the gigantic 125 million-dollar house he lives in.
Seriously Bill, if you find yourself having trouble burning through all that money…I’m here to help.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Who let the dogs out...
Some new dog breeds seem to be gaining popularity these days, breeds like the "puggle," a cross between a beagle and a pug, or the "labradoodle", a Labrador Retriever-Poodle mix. Now that’s all good and well, (provided you can ignore the obnoxiously cute names) but dogs should be bred for a particular use. So, with that in mind and not being a person who ever lets a bandwagon go by without jumping on it I present to you some unusual breed mixes and the useful traits they’ll possess…
Jack Russell Terrier and Yorkshire Terrier: a tireless, self-propelled feather duster…beloved by lazy housekeepers everywhere.
German Shepherd and French Poodle: will instinctively invade it’s own back yard and then immediately surrender.
Great Dane and Golden Retriever: forget duck hunting…with this dog you can go after the endangered (but oh so tasty) California condor.
Siberian Husky and Pug: sure to become the favorite sled dog of tiny Eskimos.
Pomeranian and Rottweiler: pocket sized protection from the world’s fiercest lap dog…think of it as the canine equivalent of mace.
Mastiff and Dachshund: forget buying a pony, this dog can seat your spoiled kid and five or six of his or her bratty friends to as well.
Maybe some day we can do something like this for cats. Of course, that’s assuming anyone ever discovers a breed of cat that does anything other than eat and sleep.
Jack Russell Terrier and Yorkshire Terrier: a tireless, self-propelled feather duster…beloved by lazy housekeepers everywhere.
German Shepherd and French Poodle: will instinctively invade it’s own back yard and then immediately surrender.
Great Dane and Golden Retriever: forget duck hunting…with this dog you can go after the endangered (but oh so tasty) California condor.
Siberian Husky and Pug: sure to become the favorite sled dog of tiny Eskimos.
Pomeranian and Rottweiler: pocket sized protection from the world’s fiercest lap dog…think of it as the canine equivalent of mace.
Mastiff and Dachshund: forget buying a pony, this dog can seat your spoiled kid and five or six of his or her bratty friends to as well.
Maybe some day we can do something like this for cats. Of course, that’s assuming anyone ever discovers a breed of cat that does anything other than eat and sleep.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
This just in...
The first reports on the death of terrorist Abu Musab al-Zarqawi seemed to suggest that he had been found dead in the rubble after the air strike. Then reports came that he had actually lived just long enough to be put on a stretcher and mumble a few last words. Now, there’s a report that he managed to hang on for nearly an hour.
I find this trend fascinating and wonder just how far it will go. I personally wouldn’t be surprised to eventually read a news story that reveals:
Abu Musab al-Zarqawi not only survived his injuries, but also tried to convince American and Iraqi forces that he was in fact comedic actor Dom Deluise, but was tripped up when he couldn’t answer questions about the movie "Cannonball Run 2".
Later, he managed to roll off the stretcher and tried to escape by putting on a burka and claiming he was Zarqawi’s housekeeper. Unfortunately for Zarqawi, an Iraqi soldier mistook him for his wife and beat him to death for being out of the house without permission.
The End???
I find this trend fascinating and wonder just how far it will go. I personally wouldn’t be surprised to eventually read a news story that reveals:
Abu Musab al-Zarqawi not only survived his injuries, but also tried to convince American and Iraqi forces that he was in fact comedic actor Dom Deluise, but was tripped up when he couldn’t answer questions about the movie "Cannonball Run 2".
Later, he managed to roll off the stretcher and tried to escape by putting on a burka and claiming he was Zarqawi’s housekeeper. Unfortunately for Zarqawi, an Iraqi soldier mistook him for his wife and beat him to death for being out of the house without permission.
The End???
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Up, up and away...
The X-Men, a new Superman movie…once again it seems that Hollywood is turning to super heroes for help at the box office. However, not every super hero is good enough to make it to the big screen…here are a few that didn’t make the cut:
The Human Puddle: can transform himself into a small pool of water at will. After his battle against the evil Dr. Mop he was never seen again.
Captain Cloaca: battles super villains by controlling the contents of the world’s sewers…though most people he tries to rescue would prefer that he didn’t.
Slo-Mo Man: his only super power is the ability to move ten times slower than any living thing on earth…he was voted world’s worst super hero three years in a row.
The Iron Evangelist & Bible Boy: this devout duo is constantly battling with an evil organization bent on world domination…the dreaded Worldwide Association of Naughty Gays, better known as W.A.N.G.
Giggle Girl: her super sonic and condescending laughter renders even the most determined super villains unable to explain their absurdly complicated evil plans.
The Flabinator: a champion bodybuilder until he was bitten by a radioactive hippo, he now uses his gargantuan, gelatinous bulk to flatten evil doers.
You’ve got to admit it’s hard to see any great merchandising deals coming out of that bunch.
The Human Puddle: can transform himself into a small pool of water at will. After his battle against the evil Dr. Mop he was never seen again.
Captain Cloaca: battles super villains by controlling the contents of the world’s sewers…though most people he tries to rescue would prefer that he didn’t.
Slo-Mo Man: his only super power is the ability to move ten times slower than any living thing on earth…he was voted world’s worst super hero three years in a row.
The Iron Evangelist & Bible Boy: this devout duo is constantly battling with an evil organization bent on world domination…the dreaded Worldwide Association of Naughty Gays, better known as W.A.N.G.
Giggle Girl: her super sonic and condescending laughter renders even the most determined super villains unable to explain their absurdly complicated evil plans.
The Flabinator: a champion bodybuilder until he was bitten by a radioactive hippo, he now uses his gargantuan, gelatinous bulk to flatten evil doers.
You’ve got to admit it’s hard to see any great merchandising deals coming out of that bunch.
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