Showing posts with label parody. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parody. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Not So Super Ads

One of the attractions of the Super Bowl is the annual siege of commercials. Mucho big bucks are shelled out for these prized thirty and sixty second time slots to be aired during the NFL's showcase championship game.
....While there are many ads run during the game, there are many more that were submitted but rejected due to their controversial nature. Following is but a few of the rejected commercials.

Peta caused a stir over the proposed Self-Cleaning Cat Box. This practical device could be a boon to many cat owners. The self-righteous animal activist group has cried foul that the there is considerable risk to the safety of the cat.
....As for me, where can I get one of these?

The manufacturer of Viagra has unveiled perhaps its most innovative drug to date. Laboratory scientists claim that the product significantly enhances a candidate's drive. A spokesman for the Democratic Party said that the use of the wonder drug should bring about a notable rise in the visibility of his constituents.

The Republican Party is crying foul, claiming that use of the product would be tantamount to actually rigging an election. The Bush administration claims that the Democrats are taking unfair advantage of their recent gains in political power.

Political pundits say that they see no need for such a product at this time. They claim that the Republican Party's recent propensity for self-destruction negates any need for such a product. Conservatives and Liberals seem to be divided on the subject.
...Many feel that if there were a ban placed on the product, it would simply be re-manufactured and resurface as an enhancement product aimed at the Republicans for the 2012 elections.

Victoria's Secret has announced the latest in their line of edible products. While edible underwear has long been a popular staple of the company, the newly designed bras, panties and negligees take the concept to a higher gastronomical level.

Knowing full well that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, Victoria's Secret has upped the ante. A latent aroma has been embedded within the fibers of the product by a top-secret process. When mildly heated, one of several choices of smells will be acivated rendering the man helpless to resist.

Initially, the available aromas will include steak and potatoes, lasagna, beef stew and chili. Soon to be released, other products will feature such aromas of comfort foods like macaroni and cheese, meat loaf, corned beef & cabbage, fried chicken, pork rinds and nachos. A spokesperson for the company said they are currently developing these lacy products with the aromas of several different dessert flavors.
....When asked, the spokesperson smiled and said, "Yes, the products will indeed offer a line of fish enhanced products."

The Fox network wanted to use the Super Bowl exposure to promote its new adult version of the diaper set kids show, The Teletubbies.

One official was quoted as saying, "We want to once and for all, dispel the negative discussions of the sexuality of the cute little characters."

He added, "We want the viewers to think of the series as a sort of "Fritz the Cat Meets the Desperate Houswives." He went on to say that the questions about the curious shapes atop their heads will be revealed in the programs debut.
....The televised demonstrations of those shapes will shock some viewers, but others with less inhibitions will be amazed at their many uses.

In other network news, the producers of The View have announced that they are in negotions with Rosie O'Donnell and Donald Trump to star in a new sit-com. The program has the working title You're Divorced!

The premise of the program will be centered around the lives of a married couple who are struggling entertainers. Husband Hugh G. Rection and wife Lucy Rection will find themselves in humorous battles as they try to juggle their respective floundering careers.
....From the script of the proposed pilot, the couple discover that each are having an extramarital affair - with the same woman!

There you have them, the best of the worst of those ads that never made it your living room as a Super Bowl commercial. Can you say, "Whew?"

No.887

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Coming To A Theater Near You

Not one, but two controversial films are about to hit the silver screen profiling a former President of the United States. Both biographical films detail the life William Clinton.

The first to be released this summer The Legend Of Bubba, follows the future Commander-In-Chief's prepubescent curiosity in a hay loft in rural Arkansas to his carnal escapades in the Oval Office.
....Subtitled From Bananas To Stogies, the film has received an NC-17 rating due to explicit sex scenes and strong adult language.

The second movie, The Bill Clinton Story, The Younger Years, isn't expected to open until early fall. Like the former film, this feature is also rated NC-17 due to the explicit nudity and scenes sexual in nature.
....This film has been highly anticipated because of the uncredited cameo appearance of Sharon Stone in the opening sequence. The scene will be used on the poster to be distributed to the participating theaters. (Clicking on both posters above and to the right will produce a larger more detailed image.)

This reviewer, like you, cannot wait for the release of these accounts of the life and times of Bill Clinton.

Would you like to make your own movie poster using a favorite or funny picture? It's easy. Go to Big Huge Labs . The site also features several other generators.

Before closing I'd like to share the contents of an e-mail from my daughter:

Once upon a time the re lived a king. The king had a beautiful daughter, the PRINCESS. But there was a problem. Everything the princess touched would melt.
No matter what; metal, wood, stone, anything she touched would melt.
....Because of this, men were afraid of her. Nobody would dare marry her.
The king despaired. What could he do to help his daughter?
....He consulted his wizards and magicians. One wizard told the king, "If your daughter touches one thing that does not melt in her hands, she will be cured."
....The king was overjoyed and came up with a plan.
....The next day, he held a competition. Any man that could bring his daughter an object that would not melt would marry her and inherit the king's wealth.
....THREE YOUNG PRINCES TOOK UP THE CHALLENGE.

....The first brought a sword of the finest steel. But alas, when the princess touched it, it melted. The prince went away sadly .

The second prince brought diamonds. He thought diamonds are the hardest substance in the world and would not melt. But alas, once the princess touched them, they melted. He too was sent away disappointed.

The third prince approached. He told the princess, "Put your hand in my pocket and feel what is in there."
....The princess did as she was told, though she turned red. She felt something hard. She held it in her hand. And it did not melt!!!

The king was overjoyed. Everybody in the kingdom was overjoyed.

And the third prince married the princess and they both lived happily ever after.

Question: What was in the prince's pants?


M&M's of course.
They melt in your mouth, not in your hand.
What were you thinking??


No.867

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

New Santa On the Block

Be afraid! Be very afraid!
There's a new Santa on the block and he's comin' to town!

Santa's son has hit the road in this sequel to the previous post,The Anti-Claus.

Chapter 5: Deck the Halls With Pumpkins

Klaus Kringle knew what he had to do to achieve revenge. This Christmas was not going to be like those of the past. This year there would be two Santa's out there on Christmas Eve, each with a different agenda.
....While the jolly one in the red suit would be filling stockings for all the good boys and girls, the angry one, clad in black leather, would be cashing in his unused Halloween tricks. It would be a Boo-tiful Christmas this year.
....Conceived on Christmas, born on Halloween, Klaus had long harbored a deep hatred for the man known as Santa Claus. Not only only was the man a philanderer, but he was also a devious dead-beat dad. Through his website, Bastards-of-Claus.com, Klaus had learned that Santa had sired children all over the world. He was not alone. He was not unique.
....Al Gore's invention, the Internet, had given him untold power. The illegitimate offspring of Mr. Claus had united through the tag boards and chat rooms linked to Klaus' site. Thus, a master plan was launched. He had gained a legion of faithful disciples. The Christmas of '06 was going to be a memorable one, the year of the Anti-Claus.
....In cities all over the world, the Bastards of Claus would be celebrating Halloween in December. Instead of exchanging gifts, they would be tricking without the treating.

Chapter 6: Hark, the Harley Angels

After customizing his brand new 2006 Harley Super Glide to reflect his persona, Klaus roared out his driveway. His headlamp, filtered red, shown brightly from the "nose" of the hand-crafted Rudolph head mounted to the front of his bike. His gloved hands gripped the handlebars which resembled a deer's antlers.
....His white flowing beard was in stark contrast to the black stud-spiked leather jacket. Clinched in his teeth was a large cigar, the smoke whirling about the spike atop his black Kaiser helmet. This was no jolly old elf. This was not your father's Santa Claus!
....He pulled into the back of a luxury apartment building. This was where the rich people lived. Santa never missed the stockings of the rich kids. He knew this from the experiences of his youth. The rich-shit kids always got the best, most expensive gifts. Klaus had reasoned that the rich fathers had been greasing Santa's palm all along in exchange for the best gifts. The outrage there would have been had those fathers known that Santa had been shagging their wives too.
....He grabbed the over-sized sack that had been secured behind his seat. In the shadows of the night he climbed the fire escape stairs to the roof. Pausing for only a moment to savor his progress, he then began to remove his presents. He grinned as he thought of his minions all over the world exercising their own plans of Christmas treating.

Chapter 7: One Bad Santa Spoils the Whole Bunch

The trap had been set and Klaus lay low waiting for a certain big red rat to come along and take the bait. He gloated that after this night, Santa Claus would be wishing that he had kept his jingle bells in his pants all those years. After this night, Santa would never come again. He giggled cheerfully at his clever little pun.
....He didn't have long to wait. From the northern sky he could hear the jingle of approaching sleigh bells. He watched in nervous anticipation as the eight reindeer and the sleigh laden with one Santa Claus himself touched down upon the roof of the apartment building. The runners had landed on the fresh grease that Klaus had spread all over the roof. He smiled sheepishly as the sleigh and its team suddenly slid out of control and crashed into the wall of the elevator housing shed. He clenched his raised fist in a victory salute as Santa and his deer made contact with the electrified fencing he had wrapped around the structure.
....Klaus emerged from his place of hiding and made his way to the scene of the crash. He had set up his fence with just enough juice to shock Santa and his deer unconscious. He had no desire to seriously injure or maim his victims. He just wanted them incapacitated long enough for him to bring his plans to fruition.
....He worked quickly, removing the toys and presents from Santa's sack and sleigh. He then refilled the sack with bags of jewelry, silverware and expensive electronic equipment. Klaus had been stealing all that stuff from all over the city for the last several months just for this moment.
....What would people think of Santa Claus if he were to be caught with a sleigh full of contraband? That would be answered soon enough he thought. After hiding the original contents of Santa's bag, Klaus returned to his Harley in the back of the building. Rearing his bike like a stallion, he roared away from the premises on the rear wheel.
....Finally, far from detection, he used a stolen cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. Identifying himself as a concerned citizen, he reported suspicious activity on the roof of the apartment complex. His revenge would be almost complete when the police arrived to investigate.
....The law enforcement crew would find a crazy old man claiming to be Santa Claus. They would also find all those stolen goods in his sack. Only when they were leading him away in handcuffs, would he feel that justice had been served.

Chapter 8: One Lump of Coal or Two?

"Klaus," said a voice behind him. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
....His heart skipped a beat as he whirled around to face the source of the voice. "Who's there?" he demanded.
...."Your father, Klaus. I'm your father," answered the figure as he stepped forward.
...."Father?" Klaus said and added in defiance, "You're not my father. That asshole over there on that rooftop is my father." He pointed at the building a few blocks away.
...."No, that man is Santa Claus," the man countered. "I'm the only father you have."
....Klaus was about to speak, but the man raised his hand. "Hear me out, son. I know all about that night when you were only six years old. Your mother and I knew that you had seen us."
...."What?" Klaus protested. "You ... you were there? You perverted bastard, you were watching them?"
...."No, Klaus. You saw your mother and me making love that night."
...."But ... but I saw him .. the red suit .. the beard .. he was kissing .. touching her..." he stammered in confusion.
....The man shook his head, "I came home from an office party that night, Klaus. I rented a Santa Claus outfit to surprise you and your mother."
...."No. No," Klaus cried. "It can't be!"
...."Look son, it's not too late to make things right tonight. You can still save Christmas."
....Klaus' brain was in a state of flux. What if his father was telling the truth? What if Santa was innocent? What if he was just a jolly old elf? Suddenly nothing else mattered. He could ask his father why he had left them so long ago at another time.
....He scarcely noticed the passage of time as he hopped back on his bike, sped to the complex and climbed back onto that roof. His heart was heavy with guilt as he knelt over the unconscious man laying next to the overturned sleigh. Tears welled in his eyes as he tried to revive him. The deer were already beginning to stir. The old man moaned and opened his eyes slightly. Klaus stared into the confused but sincere eyes of a gentle man.
....In the distance and approaching fast, Klaus could hear the sirens. He didn't have much time. He had to get Santa up into his sleigh and let him fly away before the police arrived. He had to accept his punishment. He would turn himself in and confess to stealing all the stuff in that bag.

Kringle had moved to a better vantage point and watched as Santa and his sleigh were pulled airborne behind the flying reindeer. He watched in morbid silence as the cops closed in on the man dressed in black leather. He felt sorry for Klaus as he struggled with the lawmen. Yet, he admired his resolve for ultimately doing the right thing. There was some good in him after all.

Epilogue

He sat there staring straight ahead at the padded walls and door. The thoughts coursing through his brain were running the gamut from that of deep despair to a state of dumbfounded confusion. He had no desire for any more electric shock treatments. He wanted no part of their damned needles. He didn't need all of those anti-depressants and anti-psychotics they were force-feeding him.
....How had it come to this? How was it that he had failed? He had let a lot of people down, their faith seriously damaged. He knew that he was going to be there for a long time. He would just have to bide his time and maintain good behavior. One day he would be re-evaluated and he was determined that they would deem him cured.
....He had been barely conscious when that sick man in black had changed clothing with him. Why did that disturbed person keep calling him father? He'd watched helplessly as the man hopped into his sleigh and soared away with his team of reindeer into the night sky.
....No one would believe him, not the police who had arrested him, or the psychiatrists who had evaluated him. They kept telling him that Santa Claus was a fictitious character created to perpetuate the capitalistic side of Christmas. They said he was suffering from delusions.
....The one who had called himself the Anti-Claus had stolen his life, his very existence. He could only wait for that day when they would release him.
....When that day was upon him, then and only then could he exact revenge.

No.837

Friday, December 08, 2006

Holiday Organs and Toilets

Flu Shot Substitute

Miss Beatrice, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was admired for her sweetness and kindness to all.
....One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room. She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea. As he sat facing her old Hammond organ, the young minister noticed a cut-glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water, and in the water floated, of all things, a condom!
....When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist.
.... "Miss Beatrice", he said, "I wonder if you would tell me about this?" pointing to the bowl.
...."Oh, yes," she replied, "Isn't it wonderful? I was walking through the park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease. Do you know I haven't had the flu all winter."

Don't you just love using public toilets? Have you ever been totally disgusted by public restrooms? Of course you have. We all have! So here's a little musical tribute to those throne rooms of filth.


Clean Toilet*
(Sung to the tune of "White Christmas")


I'm dreamin' of a clean toilet,
Just like the one I use at home,
Where the clean seat glistens,
And no one listens
To hear flushing when you're done.

I'm dreamin' of a clean toilet
With every tissue I use to wipe,
May your seat be shiny and bright,
And may all your toilets ... be white.


*This song was sponsored by Ladys Home Urinal.


No.824

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

My Least Favorite Things









My Least Favorite Things
(Sung to the tune of My Favorite Things)

Icicles on porches,
And rock salt on hubcaps,
Shovels and ice breakers,
And hard snow on mud flaps,
Dirty black snow mounds,
Piled high above e'erything,
These are a few of my least favorite things.

Pushing a snow blower,
And pains in my sore back,
Loose bricks and buried sticks,
An' e'eryone else in the sack,
Stray dogs and pigeons messing,
These are more of my least favorite things.

Cars buried in snow drifts,
The snow plow making more passes,
Weather men saying more to come,
And soon we're up to our asses...
Silver white winters,
It's a long time until Spring,
These are the least of my favorite things.

When the foot slips,
When the face stings,
And I'm feelin' the hurts,
I simply remember my least favorite things,
And then I only feel worse.

Icicles ... hmm rock salt ... shovels ... hard snow ...
La dee da, La dee da, La dee da, da,
These are a few of my least favorite things ...

When the foot slips,
When the face stings,
And I'm feelin' so bad,
I remember that this poem is a blog thing,
And then I don't feel so sad.

No.822

Monday, December 04, 2006

Winter Wimp

I suppose I shouldn't complain about the weather. After all, it is the fourth of December. I usually try to refrain from using four-letter words here, but did it have to snow ?

It has been unusually warm in New England for this time of year. The month of November had an average temperature in the fifties. It was 68 degrees on the first day of December, for crying out loud!

A cold front moved in Friday night as a precursor to a cold Saturday and Sunday. I have to admit it, we were spoiled by the pleasant weather we've been having as of late. I'll have to lay off the meteorologists and weathermen. Their forecasts were correct.

To put things in the proper perspective, however, I have to admit that the total snowfall amounted to less than a dusting. The only thing it stuck to was the cold metal of parked vehicles. By 11:30 AM there was no evidence that it had snowed at all.

The only reason that this snow bothered me at all was the fact that it was the first snow of the season. That means that there will be a second, a third, etc. I can only hope that the predictions for this winter are accurate. According the National Weather Bureau, this winter is expected to be comparable to last year. I can live with that! There were only two measurable snowfalls last year and they were of the powdery type.

If you haven't guessed by now, I hate the winter. I am a bonified winter wimp. I'd like to see only one snowfall the entire winter, about one inch on Christmas Eve just so we can have a white Christmas.






Nuttin' For Dubya
(Sung to the tune of "Nuttin' For Christmas")



I broke the Republican's back;
Everybody bitched at me.
I said there's WMDs over in Iraq;
Everybody snitched on me.
I couldn't pronounce nuclear,
I make Cheney look superior,
Though he took a gun to a lawyer,
Everybody's bitchin' at me.

(Chorus:)
Oh, I'm gettin' nuttin' for Christmas,
Mommy and Daddy are mad.
I'm gettin' nuttin' for Christmas'
'Cause I been Presidentin' so bad.

I put a price on Sadam's head,
The Iraqis bitched at me.
I lied just like Daddy said,
Everybody snitched on me.
I own several oil plants
Not by the seat of my pants
I made money not by chance.
Why's everyone bitchin' at me?

(Chorus)






I won't be seein' Santy Claus;
Somebody snitched on me.
He won't come visit me because
Everybody's bitchin' about me.
Next year they'll see I'm straight,
Next year I'll be good, just wait.
I'd start now, but it's too late.
Somebody snitched on me.

So, I'd better be good, whatever I do,
"Cause when I'm bad, I learnt
That I'll be gettin' nuttin' for Christmas.

No.820

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Georgie Got Run Over

Presidential Performance Review

We all know how we would grade Dubya's tenure. I wonder how he would rate himself? Ha! No one would allow him to do so, because it would require honest and objective answers.

Exhibit A: Geography Test

It appears the old boy has problems with multiple choice questions.
....The test designers must have known that the True or False questions would give him fits!
....All things considered, that's probably not too bad of a score for a rich oil man from Texas.






Georgie Got Run Over By The Democrats
(Sung to the tune of "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer")
(Refrain:)
Georgie got run over by the Democrats
Wiping the tears from his eyes with his sleeve,
You can say there's no such thing as landslides,
But as for me and America, we believe.

He'd been thinkin' too much about Iraq,
And we'd begged him to bring our troops home,
But he said he'd find the WMD first,
So he mumbled in the Oval Office all alone.

When they found him after the elections
On the White House lawn in the grass,
There were slap prints on his sad face,
And the First Lady's boot marks on his ass.

(Refrain:)
Now we're all so worried about Georgie,
He's seen the Democrats take away his veto.
See him in there watchin' war movies,
Drinkin' Ovaltine and playin' with his G.I. Joe.

There were no Weapons of Mass Destruction,
That's why we're bombin' every camel in Iraq.
He has no support in Congress or the House,
Should we open the absentee ballots or send them back?

(Refrain:)
Now that his goose has been cooked,
He's eatin' rice from some Korean paddy.
The map of the red and blue states
Seem to match the eyes and hair of his Daddy.

I'm askin' all my friends and neighbors
To tell him to call back our girls and boys.
They never should have given a Presidency
To a man who plays war games with G.I. Joe toys.

(Refrain:)

No.816

Follow That Star !

Dateline: 2006, New York City - (MAGI press story) - Today in Downtown Manhattan, three Eastern Kings hailed a cab on Broadway. Bearing gifts, they reportedly said to the hack, also a Middle Easterner, "Follow that star!"
....The Must Always Gag Information news service reported that it was the middle of the day and no stars were visible in the bright sunlit sky.
....It was later learned they were chasing Paris Hilton. (They loved her video.) They had a lot of money and wished to sign up to be in her next feature film, "It Came Upon The Midnight Clear."

Santa Baby

Ever wonder what Santa does the other 364 days of the year? That's when he gets his presents. He receives them from those who have been naughty and nice!

Believe you me, he's checking that list more than once and he's definitely checking it more than twice!

Five will get you ten that Santa's favorite song is Santa Claus Is Coming To Town ! Where do you think all those elves came from?


Because you asked for it, Lime , here is your song. I just happened to have the perfect cartoon to accompany this joyous holiday ditty.

We Three Stooges of Dubya Are
(Sung to the tune of We Three Kings)

We three stooges of Dubya are
Getting rich with soldiers afar;
Condi and Cheney, Rumsey so zany
Following Super Tsar.

(Chorus:)
O, Tsar of Blunder, Tsar of Blight,
Tsar who thinks he's always right,
Eastward attacking, proof he's lacking,
Dragging us into his fight.

Born a babe, silver spoon in his mouth
And now the Republicans have gone south
Tsar rambling, Tsar gambling
His big foot in his mouth.

(Chorus:)

No.815

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

O Little Clown Who's President

As I am sometimes wont to do, I like to parody songs. With Christmas fast approaching there is a plethora of carols from which to choose.

I was in a quandary. Which one should I parody? At first, I experimented with the words: O Come Let Us Ignore Him.... Then I toyed with: Oh, Tsar of Blunder, Tsar of Blight.... Another had possibilities: You're a mean one, Mr. President..

Then lo and behold, I found the caricature at the above right. Now just what song could possibly tie in with that cartoon? The parodied title and subject fit like a glove: Oh Little Clown Who's President...So clear your throats and take a sip of whatever libation is close at hand and sing along...

Oh Little Clown Who's President
(sung to the tune of Oh Little Town of Bethlehem)

Oh little clown who's President, we still hear how thee lied
About thy fears of terrorists and the weapons that they hide.
You neath satin sheets somehow manage to fall asleep tonight,
Despite the hopes and fears of our troops while they fight.

Should we attempt another number? Sure, why not? I'm a sandwich! (translation: sandwich = on a roll)~(Note to self: delete this awful pun)

The Dubya's Song
(Sung to the tune of The Grinch's Song)

You're a mean one, Mr. President,
You really are a jerk,
You're as welcome as a rash,
You're a real piece of work, Mr. President,
You're a megalomaniac gone berserk!

You're an idiot, Mr. President,
Your heart pumps oil,
Your brain is full of grandeur,
Your smile can make milk spoil, Mr. President,
You should be wrapped with thirty-nine-and-a-half feet of foil!

You're a coward, Mr. President,
You're a mealy mouthed punk,
Your heart is as cold as an icebox,
Your Party is all but sunk, Mr. President,
The three words that best describe how I should feel, and I quote,
"Drink, drank, drunk"!

No.814

Saturday, November 11, 2006

On a Sesame Street Bun


Usually when someone gives you the bird, chances are you cut him off at an intersection. On the other hand, if someone gives you the bird on the third Thursday of November, you eat it!

Through the magic of this Blog, you are about to witness what happened when the bird was given to the denizens of Sesame Street. (Caution: This is a childrens' blog, it contains graphic references that may be too intense for adults.)

Ernie: Say, Bert. That's sure one big turkey!
Bert: He always was.
Oscar: I'll say. I sure won't miss that annoying nasally voice of his.
Bert: I think we can stomach the big guy one more time, don't you?
Count: Bwa-ha-ha-ha! I think I'll count how many days of leftovers we're going to have.
Ernie: It sure tastes gamey.
Oscar: Save the bones for me!
Elmo: You going to make a stew, Oscar?
Oscar: No. The bones will make pretty decorations for my trash can!
Count: I'll count them for you.
Ernie: Say, Bert. This stuffing tastes good!
Bert: Yeah. I wonder what it's made of?
Cookie Monster: Cooooookies!
Elmo: I sure hope those are "chocolate" chips!
Count: I think I'll count the chips.
Bert: I wonder what's for dessert?
Cookie Monster: Cooooookies!
Elmo: Hey guys, where's Miss Piggy?
Bert: Aw, she's on another one of her diets.
Ernie: She can't eat turkey?
Bert: You know her, it's gotta be French cuisine.
Ernie: But aren't the French a bunch of turkeys?
Count: I counted a lot of turkeys in France.
Bert: Say, Ernie?
Ernie: Yes, Bert?
Bert: I gotta joke for you. What's green and smells like pork?
Ernie: Gee, Bert, I don't know.
Bert: Kermit's face!
Elmo: Tee-hee-hee-hee-giggle-hee-hee!
Ernie: Bert, I don't get it!
Cookie Monster: After she get her cooooookies!
Statler: Ho-ho-ho-ho!
Waldorf: What are you laughing at? That wasn't funny.
Statler: Who's laughing? I'm choking on a wing bone.
Waldorf: Uh-oh. Here comes the Pig!
Miss Piggy: Did I hear someone mention moi?
Ernie: Hello, Miss Piggy. I got a new joke for you.
Bert: No Ernie. I don't think that's a good idea.
Miss Piggy: You have a joke for little ol' moi? Give, little man!
Ernie: (Gulp) Sure. What's green and smells like Miss Piggy?
Miss Piggy: Watch it, buster. This had better be good.
Ernie: I don't get it, but the answer is Kermit's face.
Miss Piggy: Hiii-Yaaaah!
Statler: Whoa! The Pig karate-chopped him all the way across the room!
Waldorf: I think he got it. That was the punch line.
Bert: Ouch! That must hurt.
Ernie: Ooh. Look at the rubber duckies spinning around my head.
Count: Let me count the rubber duckies!
Elmo: Look! Here comes Kermit! What's he doing in a wheel chair?
Miss Piggy: Oh, Kermie. There you are, my love. I could just eat you up.
Kermit: You already did, Piggy.
Ernie: Bert. Where's Kermit's legs?
Count: No legs to count!
Bert: I told you she's on a French diet - frog legs!
Statler: I wonder what they'll serve for Christmas?
Waldorf: Haven't you guessed? Ham!

Music: It's time to put on makeup! It's time to dress up right! It's time to raise the curtain on the Muppet Show tonight!

No.797

Friday, November 10, 2006

Up In Smoke

When Joe Riley returned from active duty in the Middle East, he was one of a growing number of bitter war heroes. He wasn't expecting fame or cheers as the police squad escorted him through the streets of San Francisco.
....His tour of duty hadn't exactly been the life of Riley. He was lucky, maybe charmed that he'd made it back alive. So many of his friends had died in combat, why should he honored while they lay six feet under some green acres of a cemetary? Too many had been lost, but for what?
....He realized that soldiers have only one life to live, but must they be placed in jeopardy for an unnecessary war? Should they be dying for the sake of oil interests? His "illustrious" Commander-in-Chief was sitting in the office of the west wing of the White House while they were trying to maintain law and order in a country that wanted no part of America or its ideals. We will never comprehend the passions of those people.
....He understood the war on terrorism, especially after the 9/11 attacks, and that we Americans would spend the rest of the days of our lives never forgetting. America had grown up that day. The facts of life in a tormented world were realized and America became united.
....He wished he could gain an audience with the President. He would settle for just 60 minutes to speak his mind. With that maverick leader standing in the dark shadows of the Oval Office, he would say to him, "You don't know jack, Mr. President!" He wouldn't give him a chance to answer right away. Then he would add, "We know it's a family affair. You're keeping it all in the family, aren't you? You're doing it for Daddy! You must think your father knows best!"
....He might say something like, "I had advisors. This was a well-thought out plan of action."
...."Advisors? Who? Daddy, Rumsfeld and Condi? How quaint, three's company, eh? You gambled and were wrong. Did you think it was a poker game in Vegas? You laid down a full house against a straight flush! Maybe you should have played Go Fish."
....As he would then leave that office, he would ask, "Why didn't you just shoot me when I walked into the recruiting office? Sir, you're letting our country go up in smoke." Looking at the dumb stare he usually wears, he would have one final remark. "Mr. President, you can kiss the raw hide of my ass!"

The above short essay is a poignant look at the thoughts of many of us. There is, however, more to the story than meets the eye. Did any of you notice anything peculiar about the story at all?
....Hidden in the text of the story are thirty-three (33) titles of television programs past and present. Although capitalization has been omitted, the titles are complete and unbroken. Try reading the story again and see how many you can find.
....The story will be repeated below in its entirety with the titles in bold face type.
....Before you scroll down to the answers, here's a cartoon that could be subtitled with the names of television shows. I came up with two suggestions which appear after the story answers. Perhaps you can think of some other TV titles befitting the cartoon.




Up In Smoke: answers

When Joe Riley returned from active duty in the Middle East, he was one of a growing number of bitter war heroes. He wasn't expecting fame or cheers as the police squad escorted him through the streets of San Francisco.
....His tour of duty hadn't exactly been the life of Riley. He was lucky, maybe charmed that he'd made it back alive. So many of his friends had died in combat, why should he honored while they lay six feet under some green acres of a cemetary? Too many had been lost, but for what?
....He realized that soldiers have only one life to live, but must they be placed in jeopardy for an unnecessary war? Should they be dying for the sake of oil interests? His "illustrious" Commander-in-Chief was sitting in the office of the west wing of the White House while they were trying to maintain law and order in a country that wanted no part of America or its ideals. We will never comprehend the passions of those people.
....He understood the war on terrorism, especially after the 9/11 attacks, and that we Americans would spend the rest of the days of our lives never forgetting. America had grown up that day. The facts of life in a tormented world were realized and America became united.
....He wished he could gain an audience with the President. He would settle for just 60 minutes to speak his mind. With that maverick leader standing in the dark shadows of the Oval Office, he would say to him, "You don't know jack, Mr. President!" He wouldn't give him a chance to answer right away. Then he would add, "We know it's a family affair. You're keeping it all in the family, aren't you? You're doing it for Daddy! You must think your father knows best!"
....He might say something like, "I had advisors. This was a well-thought out plan of action."
...."Advisors? Who? Daddy, Rumsfeld and Condi? How quaint, three's company, eh? You gambled and were wrong. Did you think it was a poker game in Vegas? You laid down a full house against a straight flush! Maybe you should have played Go Fish."
....As he would then leave that office, he would ask, "Why didn't you just shoot me when I walked into the recruiting office? Sir, you're letting our country go up in smoke." Looking at the dumb stare he usually wears, he would have one final remark. "Mr. President, you can kiss the raw hide of my ass!"

Cartoon: suggestions

"The Honeymooners" or "The Big Valley"

No.796

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Recess Sports Olympiad

Attention card-carrying AARP members!

You probably think life has already passed you by and you've been put out to pasture. You've never experienced your fifteen minutes of fame!

Take heart, you can be an Olympic athlete! The furrowed skin on your forehead raises, ceding to the advance of your eyebrows. You heard correctly - Olympian!

Introducing the first annual Recess Sports Olympiad.*

If you're fifty-something or older, now you can realize those dreams of standing on the victory podium in front of an entire world audience. Imagine wearing bling that actually represents something. Be the pride of your nation when you sport a gold, silver or bronze Olympic medal.

Across the country there is a growing number of adults participating in "recess sports." They are forsaking the workout gyms and they are giving up on running. They are playing in competitive leagues of those sports you used to play on the school grounds at recess.

In the public parks from Washington D.C. to Fon Du Lac, Wisconsin; from Moosejaw, Saskatchewan, to Truth or Consequences, New Mexico - adults are returning to the games of their youth. The phenomenon is growing so fast, that the IOC has decided to sanction Olympic games in several of these sports.

When is the last time you played kickball, or dodgeball? Do you remember hopscotch? Get your taws and aggies out the attic, because marbles is making a comeback! You might want to start practicing your skill at jacks and jump rope. If you are still limber, how about digging out the hula hoop?
....I'm already trying to revive my skills at pitching pennies. Recently in Las Vegas, there was a $50,000 prize awarded to the winner of a Rock, Paper and Scissors tournament.

Who wants to be my training partner (gals, no guys) for a run at the gold in either post office or spin the bottle?**

What sports would you like to see included in the first annual Recess Olympiad? Tag, hide and seek, red rover? Sorry, but playing doctor has been rejected.

*While the idea of an Olympiad featuring the above old playground games is just a parody, they are in fact being played across the country by adults. I watched a group playing kickball this afternoon - and they weren't kids either. It is possible that kids these days don't even know how to play them.

** I'm still interested in a partner(s) for these two sports.

No.770

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Loving The Fat Bastard


First girl: What are you doing tonight?
Second girl: I'm going to pick up some fat bastard and then go to bed.

Huh?

First woman: How was your weekend?
Second woman: Great! I spent it at the lake with a fat bastard.

Say what?

Chiropractor: How's your sore back?
Female patient: It feels good. I spent the evening in the jacuzzi with a fat bastard.

Excuse me?

Handsome man in bar: How about dinner at my place?
Pretty girl at bar: No thanks, I would rather go home with some fat bastard.

? ? ?

Father to his college daughter: So what do you do when you're not studying?
Daughter: I snuggle up in my bed with a fat bastard.

WTF?

I know the times are a-changing, but have I been out of the loop that long? It's been a while since I have been a part of the dating scene, but surely things haven't changed that much.
....Women now prefer fat men? They don't want hunks? They want fat ... bastards no less? You mean to tell me that all of these years I've been trying to stay slim and in shape - for nothing?

Disclaimer A!

The conversations above are actually lines from a commercial. It turns out I have been out of the loop more that I realized. I have not kept up with the recent trends in the field of libations. How was I supposed to know that there is actually a line of wines called ... Fat Bastard?

They are even selling shirts and baseball caps bearing the product's name! Can you believe it? The logo is a hippopotamus no less.

Disclaimer B!

Okay, so I haven't managed to keep my body in shape! I can take solace in the fact that I'm not a fat bastard though.

I have to admit that until I heard these commercials on the radio today, I had never heard of Fat Bastard Wines. I toured their website, here , and sure enough it's a legitimate winery.

So ladies, I apologize for implying you like your men to be fat bastards. Now I know that if you tell me you are staying home with the fat bastard, you're talking about a bottle of wine.

Sign me: An out of the loop skinny bastard.

No.759