Breaking News: Gift from France

In an effort to encourage good relations between France and the United States, the French Government has gifted a 300 foot tall statue of Jesus Christ to the mostly Christian nation. The statue screams the Ten Commandments every 30 seconds via 7 loudspeakers hidden in the statue’s crown of thorns. The statue was delivered in the middle of the night last Monday and placed on a small outcropping of rocks near where the Statue of Liberty currently resides. When reached for comment, Mayor Bloomberg of New York said, “WHAT?!?! I literally can’t HEAR YOU! The statue is on the 6th commandment right now! Call back…CALL BACK LATER!!! WHAT?!!?”

The president of France offered this statement: “In a time of great suffering around the world, we realize that the word of God is needed now more than ever. We graced the good people of the United States with the Statue of Liberty many years ago, and now we give them this Christian symbol to uplift their spirits and remind them that Jesus loves them. What better way to atone for your sins than praying at the feet of a 300 foot tall representation of the Son of God! Talk about imposing! “

The statue appears to be powered by nuclear batteries with a half-life of 250 years. State officials have not, as of yet, found a way to power down the statue’s sound system. The reaction of the citizens of Manhattan has been relatively neutral, but that may be due to the fact that most of them stay indoors or run through the streets covering their ears. When questioned, one New Yorker’s response when interviewed on his feelings about the Jesus statue was “WHAT?!?!?”

In a somewhat unsettling turn of events, after sunset the statue’s eyes glow a bright red and the audio recording switches to a loop of the word “REPENT” in a thunderous rumbling tone that is causing some lower Manhattan buildings to vibrate throughout the night. A small crowd is already gathering at the feet of the statue to pray and offer thanks to the citizens of France for this gift.

In a sad note, there have been two “Jesus Statue”-related deaths since the delivery two days ago due to complete implosion from the sheer volume of the speakers. There have been ten cases of ruptured ear drums and one complete spontaneous combustion. France could not be reached for comment.

Letters from Real Folks Part 4

We are back with some more letters from my faithful followers. My mailman and I patched up our differences and I found that he had a whole stack of letters that he had been withholding. He then tried to give me an awkward hug which I immediately shunned and responded by shoving him into a compost heap. This may be the last batch of letters for a while…

Dear Horseface,

You have the face and teeth of a horse and you smell like horse. You probably were born in a horse house. It makes me want to throw sugar cubes at you and gently feed you carrots.

Signed,
Disgusted in Denver

Dear Disgusted,

Hey, this comes across as slightly negative! Why would I like sugar cubes and carrots so much? And I think I’m very handsome! Are prostitutes known to have different kinds and shapes of teeth? Oh, you said horse face…

Dear Doctor Love,

You can join my gang any time. The way you lay it down and shape it up? BAM! The ladies all be doggin’ you and the brothers all be sweatin’ you. I know you know what I know. DING DING! We have a winner, and it ain’t on the Price is Right! Plinko, my man. Plinko.

Signed,
Admirer in Almira

Dear Admirer,

I have to say, your letter has touched me. Inappropriately. You can expect a call from my lawyer.

Dear Richard Dawson,

Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You kissed my mother. Prepare to die.

Signed,
Swordsman in Seville

Dear Swordsman,

I think this is a clear case of mistaken identity. I am not British, I do not have an oversized alcoholic’s nose, I never hosted Family Feud and I ain’t done never kissed no mothers. Back off.

To Dad,

The cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon. Little boy blue and the man in the moon. When you comin’ home son, I don’t know Dad. We’ll get together then, Dad. You know we’ll have a good time then. You know we’ll have a good time then.

Signed,
Lonely in Louisiana

Editors Note: No response due to uncontrollable sobbing from everyone in the office.

To Whom It May Concern,

When I read your blog, I get so much information about clubbed thumbs that I don’t know what to do with it all. So, I have catalogued it and made it available for the entire world to see. I never knew that someone besides me was so concerned with slightly bulbous thumbs that appear as though they were flattened by a steam roller.

Signed,
Clubby in Columbus

Dear Clubby,

Well, I know this letter is for me because I am deeply concerned. Don’t waste your life on chubby thumbs. There are so many more appendages that deserve your attention, like rough elbows or spiked nipples or mismatched legs. Open your mind and you shall see that humans are mostly freaks.

Dear Doctor Emmet Brown,

Are you tryin’ to tell me you built a time machine…out of a blog?!?! This is heavy…

Signed,
Flying in Fairbanks

Dear Flying,

I’m going to have to have a talk with my mailman because I’ve been getting a lot of mail not meant for me lately. Granted my blog could be seen as a ‘time machine’ of sorts, but I haven’t gone out of my way to actually build a time machine here. I would like to go back in time, though, and rethink my breakfast of Oreos and a week old burrito...

Dear M.O.M,

I find myself caught in a sticky situation. I’m writing to you from a hot air balloon (with internet). The entire Indiana State Police force is after me for a crime I didn’t commit. This balloon will eventually lose altitude and I have no idea where I will end up. Once I land, the police will surely take me into custody. What is my crime you ask? I followed your Catastrophe Preparedness Plan to the letter. And now I’m in a balloon. Help!

Signed,
Floating in Findiana

Dear Floating,

I did say that the police may become involved and you should just ignore them. Anyway, I have a plan for you to get out of this. What you do is,

*A child arrived just the other day…came to the world in the usual way…*

Uh…like I was saying (can someone turn off that damned radio). What I was saying was, you have to pick a safe place to land and

*…but there were planes to catch and bills to pay…*

Someone please turn off that God. Damned. Radio! As I was saying, the police have a hard time tracking dirigibles, so

*He learned to walk while I was away. And he was talkin’ ‘fore I knew it, and as he grew, He’d say I’m gonna be like you, yeah. I know I’m gonna be like you…*

I…I can’t do this anymore! I’m sorry; your floating ass is toast. I have to go, uh, call someone.

Punch Lines

There are times in life where you can hear only the punch line of a joke, without hearing the actual joke, and it is just as funny as hearing the entire joke. For instance, I present this classic:

Rectum, damn near killed him!

That one still makes me laugh even without hearing the whole setup before it. I present some more for your reading pleasure. For some extra enjoyment, I think it will help your experience if you read these out loud using your best impression of an old-time vaudeville comic (think: Henny Youngman or Don Rickles). If you must throw up from laughter, please use the provided sickness bags:

******************

Raccoon? I thought you said ‘Dracula’!

So the Boy Scout says, ‘Now that’s what I call a Black Hole’!

The frog opens the box, takes out a tax form, and says ‘Jump in, boys, the water is piss warm!’

So the hooker steps out of the limousine and says ‘Fuck ME? I’m not the one with cake on my balls!’

Then the priest looks up into the sky, shrugs, and says ‘Six of one, half a dozen of your mother!’

The umpire turns to the first baseman and says ‘Sliding is one thing, but with a monkey? Oy Vey!’

After the music dies down, the rabbit turns to the waiter and says ‘Check Please! My tuxedo has goose shit all over it!’

Then the pig steps into the hole, twists his ankle and says ‘Ha-cha-cha-cha!’

Then the antelope turns the light on, grabs his balls, and says ‘Which way to the train station?’

After the initial shock wears off, the Werewolf bows and says, ‘Cantaloupes on sale, two for a dollar!’

‘I don’t know about the monkey, but the Tiger is definitely gay!’

‘Maybe the dwarf has a full house, but the dolphin has a fuckin’ straight!’

‘Don’t ask me, I have an apeshit cake in the oven!’

‘Who cares, the donkey gave us all an extra camera phone!’

‘Mystery solved? What about the donut merchant!’

‘Don’t look now, but the wildebeest has an ape shoved up its ass!’

‘Five stories high, maybe, but TEN?!?!’

So the clock spins around and says ‘Freeze shitkicker!’

‘Sure, Mary started the washer, but Clyde stuffed the dryer!’

Then the turkey runs around the corner and says ‘Hands up mincemeat! The check is in the mail, and I’m fresh out of bubblegum!’

The mailman closes his sack, takes out a cigar and says ‘That was one fine set of nuts.’

The kitten closes his notebook, takes off his glasses, and says: ‘Sure she can cook, but can she defecate?’

And when the hovercraft finally comes to a complete stop, the driver says ‘911? I have a concussed Llama on board and I’m completely out of raw steak. No, I don't have any bananas!’

******************

The moral of the story today is: Sometimes it is just easier to skip to the end. I know I know, the anticipation is sometimes the best part and can be just as fun, but really the ending is what we all came for. The finale is what gets the standing ovation. The swelling orchestra music ending with a staccato burst of fireworks and explosions is what makes us all feel a little better about ourselves (if slightly exhausted).

And yes, I am still talking about jokes.

The Doctor and the Werewolf

For my 100th post, I’m going to open a little window for you and let you see me as a sixth grader. Picture this. A boy walks around the corner. He is approximately 9 feet 3 inches tall. He wears glasses so thick that you could see into the future with them. His teeth are made out of metal (actually covered in braces that appear to be made from the same material they used when building statues in early Rome). His face looks like it was shot at from point blank range with a hornet cannon. His hair…is perfect; if perfection to you is having the hairdo of a split-top loaf of wheat bread.

This boy had some friends, not a lot, but some. He was definitely not allowed into the “popular crowd” group meetings. How would he fit through the door, between the hair and the height and the metal on his teeth? He belonged in a remake of “War of the Worlds” before being allowed to hobnob with the best and brightest in his sixth grade class. He was painfully awkward, blisteringly smart, and a giant dork.

Here I am on the way to school.
This is me you are looking at. Me at age 13. Ready to take on the world.

Halloween came along on a beautiful fall evening. I decided that year I was going to dress up as a doctor. Simple costume, just wear a white overcoat, stethoscope, carry a clipboard. No mask, no makeup, no problem. My friend Matt decided to be a werewolf. His costume consisted of a black jacket and some fake beard clippings stuck to his face with glue, plus a fake plastic set of vampire teeth (vampire, werewolf, tomato, to-mah-to…)

So off we went, the Doctor and the Werewolf wandering through the streets of my small town begging for candy and having a pretty good time. Then, my werewolf friend elbowed me as we approached a large mansion. I looked at him and nodded. I knew the house, and I knew who was inside. This was the house of the most popular girl in school, and inside the house the current “popular crowd” group meeting was being held. As I started walking past the large entry gate, my friend elbowed me again and said something I’ll never forget.

“Let’s go up there.”

I don’t know what we were thinking, but a few minutes after that proclamation, Doctor Beanpole and Wally the Werewolf were marching right up the walk and to the massive front door. Maybe we were buzzed on Miky Ways and Jawbreakers, but there we were. I knocked and waited for the inevitable barrage of shocked laughter. She answered the door herself, and indeed I could see half the population of our school milling around behind her in various costumes. She looked embarrassed, but not entirely without some pity. She quickly gave us some candy and half smiled. We took it and ran down to the street, exhilarated at the amazing level of bravery required to walk up to the lion’s den and take some treasure away with us.

And Then.

Werewolf crossed the busy street in front of the house. At this point, the other populars were alerted to our presence and many of them had come to the door and onto the front stoop of the house to laugh or throw a few insults our way. I hopped off the curb, started crossing the street…

…and my pillowcase full of candy split at the bottom dumping my entire collection into the middle of River Road.

Cars going both ways on the street had to stop as I stood there staring at the road. I’ll never forget the roar of laughter that erupted from the house full of the most popular kids in the school. My werewolf buddy ran out to help me start gathering the candy. Have you ever tried to quickly gather and store miniature pieces of candy? It’s like trying to pick up marbles and run with them. Not to mention I was now holding a flapping piece of fabric that used to be a fully stocked pillowcase.

I can only imagine what the drivers that stopped were seeing. “Yes, 911? There is a nine-foot tall doctor and a Werewolf frantically hopping up and down in the middle of River Road. Hello?”

It felt like an eternity, but we managed to get most of the candy onto the sidewalk. When I finally made it home, I threw the tattered pillowcase at my mother and hid in my room for the rest of the weekend. Good times, good times.

Later that night, I snuck out of my room and went on a rampage through my town, shooting people with my laser eyes and stomping them with my nine foot long legs. Werewolf went Wolverine on everyone’s asses, just hacking and slashing his way all the way to the Shop Rite. But that is a story for another time…

Urgent Questions: Volume 9

If I click my heels together three times and say “There’s no place like home” over and over again while wearing my ruby slippers, do you think the neighbors could ignore the fact that I just dumped an entire bucket of paint on their dog...and that I’m wearing ruby slippers while doing yard work?

If five knuckles make a fist, and ten knuckles make a beat down, then what do two feet equal? A Mr. Miyagi-style ass kicking, that’s what. Ask Johnny in his skeleton costume, he knows.

Have you ever opened up a can of soda expecting the entire thing to explode in your face? No wonder nobody invites you to go anywhere, too much nervous soda can opening and screaming would annoy anyone after a while.

Why do people curl up with a good book when it rains outside? Doesn’t anyone lay on their bed completely straightened out and read a book? Does anyone stand up and read? Do people curl up with a book when it is perfectly sunny outside?! Has everyone gone mad?!?!?

If Big Bird and Snuffelufagus had a kid, would its name be Bigasnufflebirdaf...*choke*. Sorry, I couldn’t even get that one all the way out without choking...

Why did the chicken cross the road? Oh, you heard that question before? Yeah? Did ya? Ever hear this one? *scissor kick to genitals*.

If a coal miner stumbles into a mine without his helmet, randomly swinging his pickaxe around and blindly trying to mine some coal, what are the odds that he stumbles into a magical hidden world where leprechauns ride on unicorns, and it rains jelly beans down on meadows of peppermint grass? 25,000,000,000,000,000,000 to 1 (Vegas actually has odds on this, you can bet on anything there). Odds of him taking his best friend’s kneecap off: 3 to 1.

Have you ever clapped your hands together so hard that the resulting sound causes a Blue Jay to stop smiling and cock its head to the side quizzically? What’s his problem?

If the Batmobile loses its wheel, and the Joker gets away, then is this a direct result of Batman smelling, or Robin laying an egg at the most inopportune time?

Do happy laughing children make you instinctively check your toupee to make sure it isn’t on crooked? Children laugh at the darndest crooked hairpieces, don’t they?

Who’s on first? I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you, genius! Abbot and who? *Throat punch*. Now YOU’RE on first...First Blood. *ominous music followed by slow camera zoom to the pupil of your eye, which slowly fills with deep red. Fade to Black*.

If a Rolling Stone gathers no moss, how the hell am I going to gather up all this moss? All I have is Keith Richards on work release, and Mick is off trying to snort a tree. I mean he is literally trying to snort a tree! These guys are totally messed up! I wonder if Led Zeppelin would gather some moss.

Why is it that when I open my mailbox, the turtle living inside menaces me with the tiniest switchblade you’ve ever seen? Can’t a brother get some mail up in here?

Have you ever listened to church bells ringing out on a crisp winter morn as bluebirds tend to their nests and squirrels gather food and wonder exactly who told you it was a good idea to make snow angels with no clothes on and no snow?

Aren’t you so happy that some kind soul left you this huge bowl of chocolate and some butter cookies to dip in it...and...that...ISN’T CHOCOLATE! *vomit sounds*

When I open my eyes after counting to 100, why is the nice policeman still standing with his gun drawn and a tazer attached to my scrotum? I clearly said “I’m counting to 100, and when I do, you had better be hiding!” Some people have clearly forgotten the innocence and fun of childhood games and frolic.

New Year Resolutions

I decided to write a post today on the unusual topic of “New Year Resolutions.” I’m sure you have never read a post like this before, especially at this time of year. Besides the standard resolutions of “Lose Weight”, “Stop Smoking” and “No more robbing the elderly” here are some of my other resolutions. I am resolved to resolute these resolutions by year’s end, and the resolutions shall resolve to be resolving and resounding!

* Start a talk show to fill the void left by Oprah. I’m referring to the screaming housewife void, not the void in space left by Oprah herself.

* Build a robotic raccoon that would serve three purposes: Home defense, comic relief, and host of the talk show mentioned above.

* Paint all public roadways a stark white color. Not only will this give the driver a sense of constant winter wonderland, it will blind the shit out of any terrorists trying to drive somewhere.

* Get around to watching that show I mistakenly put on my DVR: “Hulk, el hombre increible” which loosely translated I believe means “Hulk: the inedible mailman.” It sounds frightening.

* Get a Sherman tank and show up for a drivers test with it. Say things like “Where do I parallel park this thang?” “Do y’all have a shootin test too?” “Is this test hard? I hope I don’t tank it!” “Tanks for the memories!” “Did you smell that? It sure did sTank!” And other witticisms.

* Buy the Dallas Cowboys and fire everyone except the cheerleaders.

* Open a checking account with the name “Dick Mister” so the lady at the bank would have to say “How do you do today, Mr. Mister?” and then I would say “Great Great!” and she and I would laugh together until we both threw up.

* Finally enact my plan to start a “Third Hand Smoke” scare. All I have to do is hang around smokers, inhale deeply, and then chase people down the street and exhale loudly at them. I tried this in Chicago and New York as test markets and the results were less than favorable.

* Scream. All the time. In public.

* Keep my friends close, my enemies closer, my mailman at arm’s length, my dog about ten feet away, my coworkers out in the hallway, my therapist in my lap and my blogging friends in my hip pocket.

* Dance like no one is watching, and make sweet love while everyone is watching and pointing and hey are they laughing? Forget this one. I’m just going to continue to do everything like everyone is watching and openly mocking me.

* Stop making New Year’s Resolutions! LOL! *insert laugh track from annoying sitcom* Ya know? Because they, I mean really, they just never get done and um, it’s ironic to make one of your resolutions be to stop making them because it just uh, contradicts the um space-time continuum and so forth.

Happy New Year.