Monday, February 18, 2008
What Knight Rider Should Have Been
This is a much better update to the old Knight Rider TV show that the Hoff himself made. I know it's over a year old, but frankly, it never gets old! Who wouldn't want to jump in his car?
TV Monkey: Knight Rider Movie
Last night, I sat down to "enjoy" the new updated Knight Rider movie. Let me just tell you going in, that the most exciting thing about this movie was the anticipation of when the Hoff was going to appear in a cameo. Not only was the car unimpressive, but the bad guys seemed to have all the same technology. They even had the ability to attempt to hack in and take control of it. How formidable and impressive is your technologically enhanced car if it's already threatened by stereotypical nerdy computer hacker guy in episode 1! The star, Justin Bruening, showed his full range of acting skills honed on, "All My Children," as the way too morally sound, Jamie Martin, that put up with way too much trouble and drama throughout his love affair with the mostly annoying, Babe Carey. Er, that is, well, what I've heard. Back to the point. The brief redemption came at the end, during the Hoff's cameo. I bet Will Arnett's original vocals would have been better, and like any movie, it could have used more Hoff.
1 out of 5 bananas on the TV Monkey scale.
Comic Monkey Returns
It's been over a month, since the last post here at Comic Monkey. Well, I'm back and this time, there'll be even more types of content. What will it be you ask? Stay tuned...
Friday, January 18, 2008
Your Move, WGA
Well, the directors guild has settled its contract issues without a strike. It took a whole....6 days.
Yay! We don't have to lose any time in our comfy director chairs!
Now, don't get me wrong, I am a fervent supporter of all things writers, but one would think that this has got to get the ball rolling here. There's at least some basic framework for the internet issue in this agreement. I know it's not as epic as George Clooney's offer to save Hollywood with his peace brokering, but still. I think it's a start. As much as I enjoy watching new episodes of Paradise Hotel and adding the new Terminator show to my DVR, I'd much prefer some of the beloved tv shows I love returning. At least before things get desperate and Fox creates another edition of the classic, "Man vs Beast." Come to think of it....it can be after that.
Yay! We don't have to lose any time in our comfy director chairs!
Now, don't get me wrong, I am a fervent supporter of all things writers, but one would think that this has got to get the ball rolling here. There's at least some basic framework for the internet issue in this agreement. I know it's not as epic as George Clooney's offer to save Hollywood with his peace brokering, but still. I think it's a start. As much as I enjoy watching new episodes of Paradise Hotel and adding the new Terminator show to my DVR, I'd much prefer some of the beloved tv shows I love returning. At least before things get desperate and Fox creates another edition of the classic, "Man vs Beast." Come to think of it....it can be after that.
Gotta Have My Sean Paul
I guess people will do whatever to listen to their favorite music.
Argh! I can handle the pain. Just don't make me stop listening to it!
Every now and then you'll hear an odd story about something like this. An otherwise healthy 25 year old was having seizures whenever Sean Paul would come on. Any Sean Paul song. After 2 surgeries that included applying 100 electrodes to her brain, then removing them and also parts of the brain, she can now jam away whenever she wants to. While I can understand the frustration of it all, and the embarrassment of when she would collapse at parties, etc, you'd think she might just save the money and take him off her ipod?
Argh! I can handle the pain. Just don't make me stop listening to it!
Every now and then you'll hear an odd story about something like this. An otherwise healthy 25 year old was having seizures whenever Sean Paul would come on. Any Sean Paul song. After 2 surgeries that included applying 100 electrodes to her brain, then removing them and also parts of the brain, she can now jam away whenever she wants to. While I can understand the frustration of it all, and the embarrassment of when she would collapse at parties, etc, you'd think she might just save the money and take him off her ipod?
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Slimy Babies
I was watching a movie last night, and there was one of those scenes where someone has a baby, and it's all touching and nice. However, looking at that slimy baby got me thinking. How do they cast for these parts? Do people willingly toss their newborns into Hollywood productions? Here, take my baby and slime it up good. I suppose money helps, but still, it seems odd to me. I mean, here's this baby, new and impressionable, and probably pretty happy to be free from the womb. Naturally, he/she would probably not be that pumped to simulate the miracle of life all over again. Sure, the baby's job is pretty easy. Lie around and let them cover them with goo like they've been slimed by a ghostbusters' ghost, but i wonder how confusing that must be. Their tiny little minds thinking, "didn't I just d0 this? Come on!" I suppose it's better than one of those rebirthing exercises. At least, the slimy baby movie role will pay for college.
It's a Bird! It's a Plane! It's a....Super Rat!
Living in New York, you will periodically stumble upon a rodent running around in the subway or on a sidestreet somewhere. However, just imagine seeing this bad boy crawl out of a garbage can near you:
What the hell is that thing? Take my garbage! Take my wallet! Take whatever you want!
Two scientists in Uruguay discovered the skeleton of a rodent that weighed approximately 1 ton! They estimated it at 3 meters long or the size of a small car. That is the most frightening thing that I've heard in a while. I'm not ashamed to say that I reacted in a rather unmanly fashion when i had a mouse in my apartment, so I don't think that I could gauge the reaction if I were to find a 1 ton super rat. Especially if it was with its buddies that are mentioned in the article, the terror birds and the giant armored mammals. Terror birds? They sound like they are cronies that work for Skeletor in his on going battle against the Masters of the Universe. What's a giant armored mammal anyway? I'm imagining an animal in one of those giant hamster balls, but made of an impenetrable metal. The creature peers through the viewholes as it wreaks havoc upon the country side. Maybe if the super rat had gotten itself a set of this armor, then it wouldn't be extinct. Take that, super rat!
What the hell is that thing? Take my garbage! Take my wallet! Take whatever you want!
Two scientists in Uruguay discovered the skeleton of a rodent that weighed approximately 1 ton! They estimated it at 3 meters long or the size of a small car. That is the most frightening thing that I've heard in a while. I'm not ashamed to say that I reacted in a rather unmanly fashion when i had a mouse in my apartment, so I don't think that I could gauge the reaction if I were to find a 1 ton super rat. Especially if it was with its buddies that are mentioned in the article, the terror birds and the giant armored mammals. Terror birds? They sound like they are cronies that work for Skeletor in his on going battle against the Masters of the Universe. What's a giant armored mammal anyway? I'm imagining an animal in one of those giant hamster balls, but made of an impenetrable metal. The creature peers through the viewholes as it wreaks havoc upon the country side. Maybe if the super rat had gotten itself a set of this armor, then it wouldn't be extinct. Take that, super rat!
Thursday, January 10, 2008
My Wife Charges by the Hour
Looking for a way to earn a little extra cash on the side? You could go work in a store like this woman told her husband she did, but to his surprise, she was actually working at his local whorehouse.
I paid all this money to have sex with someone that was not my wife!
I think the funniest/saddest part that this story never touches on is the guy's motivations. He's so shocked that his wife had lied to him and is doing this, he can't believe it. She's such an awful person. Um, buddy, you're at the brothel too! That seems to be lost in all this. I'm thinking that the marriage would be dysfunctional enough with her moonlighting as a prostitute, but he's also hiring them. Who knows how many times he went over there and didn't get her after he dropped some cash. I guess it really is all about how you spin the story. "Woe is me! My wife sleeps with other men for money!" However, he's the one paying other people for his sleeping around. At least she was making some money off the deal. Ironically enough, perhaps the same money that he flushed away at the same place. What a wonderful world!
I paid all this money to have sex with someone that was not my wife!
I think the funniest/saddest part that this story never touches on is the guy's motivations. He's so shocked that his wife had lied to him and is doing this, he can't believe it. She's such an awful person. Um, buddy, you're at the brothel too! That seems to be lost in all this. I'm thinking that the marriage would be dysfunctional enough with her moonlighting as a prostitute, but he's also hiring them. Who knows how many times he went over there and didn't get her after he dropped some cash. I guess it really is all about how you spin the story. "Woe is me! My wife sleeps with other men for money!" However, he's the one paying other people for his sleeping around. At least she was making some money off the deal. Ironically enough, perhaps the same money that he flushed away at the same place. What a wonderful world!
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Deadly Rich
Creativity at its best for these two guys. In what could only have happened in a deleted scene from Weekend at Bernie's, two men attempted to cash a dead guy's social security check. Oh, it wasn't one of them in disguise or carrying fake IDs, they literally wheeled the dead man to the check cashing place and gave it a try.
He really wants this check cashed. What? No, he's just really tired and sleepy, but he really wants us to cash his check.
What do you do when your friend passes away in the apartment that you two live in? Grieve? Call for medical attention. No, that'd be too easy, there's still money that could be made from it. It's amazing how low people will stoop for a check for $350 split two ways. The most moronic part was that after wheeling him down "flopping in a chair," they left him in the street, while they went inside! How'd the police find them? Could have been top notch police work or it could have been the mob of people who formed around the random dead guy in an office chair sitting on the sidewalk of New York City. When the clerk didn't believe them, they were about to bring him inside to help with the scheme. If I were the police, I'd almost have let it go on two more minutes, just to see how they pulled it off. Was someone going to hold him up as if he was a giant puppet? Well played, gentlemen. Nothing says classy like taking advantage of a dead, old guy's body for financial gain.
He really wants this check cashed. What? No, he's just really tired and sleepy, but he really wants us to cash his check.
What do you do when your friend passes away in the apartment that you two live in? Grieve? Call for medical attention. No, that'd be too easy, there's still money that could be made from it. It's amazing how low people will stoop for a check for $350 split two ways. The most moronic part was that after wheeling him down "flopping in a chair," they left him in the street, while they went inside! How'd the police find them? Could have been top notch police work or it could have been the mob of people who formed around the random dead guy in an office chair sitting on the sidewalk of New York City. When the clerk didn't believe them, they were about to bring him inside to help with the scheme. If I were the police, I'd almost have let it go on two more minutes, just to see how they pulled it off. Was someone going to hold him up as if he was a giant puppet? Well played, gentlemen. Nothing says classy like taking advantage of a dead, old guy's body for financial gain.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Worst Way to Make Bacon
In an odd similarity to the method Mrs O'Leary's cow used burned down much of Chicago, A Jacksonville man's pig burned down part of his house.
Mmmmmm, that bacon sure smells fresh!
Jacksonville had a tough freeze on Thursday, much like a lot of the Northeast. I know I went to sleep with 2 blankets and a heater that was burning up the room so much that you could have cooked bacon on my arm. A thoughtful Jacksonville man was looking out for the well being of his pig. He parked that pig out on the back porch with a space heater to keep it nice and toasty. Unfortunately, the pig kicked over the space heater and burned down the back half of his house. While all the family survived unscathed, the pig didn't make it. I remember learning on the farm once that pigs are smart enough to never run into the same part of the electric fence twice. I guess he could not resist the warmth of that fire while the freeze was going on around him. Fare thee well, Jacksonville Pig.
Mmmmmm, that bacon sure smells fresh!
Jacksonville had a tough freeze on Thursday, much like a lot of the Northeast. I know I went to sleep with 2 blankets and a heater that was burning up the room so much that you could have cooked bacon on my arm. A thoughtful Jacksonville man was looking out for the well being of his pig. He parked that pig out on the back porch with a space heater to keep it nice and toasty. Unfortunately, the pig kicked over the space heater and burned down the back half of his house. While all the family survived unscathed, the pig didn't make it. I remember learning on the farm once that pigs are smart enough to never run into the same part of the electric fence twice. I guess he could not resist the warmth of that fire while the freeze was going on around him. Fare thee well, Jacksonville Pig.
New Year Monkey
2007 has come and gone, but alas, the legend lives on. After a month of monkey hibernation, it's time to get back to work...Onwards to 2008!
Friday, December 7, 2007
Good Hygiene Means Staying Employed
The cardinal rule for being a good doorman is being friendly, cheerful, perhaps a good conversationalist. Yet, this guy took the wrong approach when preparing for work.
Good morning. What? Why are you running away? I'm just trying to talk to you. Why do you keep flinching? Hello!?!?
As if the warnings of your parents and the dentists weren't enough, always brush your teeth in the morning. The doorman was sent home for having bad breath. He did decide to stop eating garlic (How much of it was he eating before?!?) and use mouthwash and take breath mints. Maybe he was taking garlic breath mints. Or maybe someone switched out his mints for those Harry Potter jelly beans , and he was eating an odd assortment of disgusting taste sensations. Now, seriously though, I'm curious. How bad was his breath? I mean, doesn't the doorman sit behind a desk or at least not within close proximity to you when you come and go from a building? Was it so powerful that people could smell it from across the lobby? I'm imagining someone with breath hitting from afar. You'd think people would be able to see a visible trace of something that bad. Where will he end up next? Perhaps radio DJ, where he can be in a booth without company? Working from home? Could it really be that bad? Poor guy. So many questions....so few answers...
Good morning. What? Why are you running away? I'm just trying to talk to you. Why do you keep flinching? Hello!?!?
As if the warnings of your parents and the dentists weren't enough, always brush your teeth in the morning. The doorman was sent home for having bad breath. He did decide to stop eating garlic (How much of it was he eating before?!?) and use mouthwash and take breath mints. Maybe he was taking garlic breath mints. Or maybe someone switched out his mints for those Harry Potter jelly beans , and he was eating an odd assortment of disgusting taste sensations. Now, seriously though, I'm curious. How bad was his breath? I mean, doesn't the doorman sit behind a desk or at least not within close proximity to you when you come and go from a building? Was it so powerful that people could smell it from across the lobby? I'm imagining someone with breath hitting from afar. You'd think people would be able to see a visible trace of something that bad. Where will he end up next? Perhaps radio DJ, where he can be in a booth without company? Working from home? Could it really be that bad? Poor guy. So many questions....so few answers...
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Saving the World Through Flatulence
Now, here's something that I haven't heard come up in any of Al Gore's speeches.
Do you smell something? I smell a cleaner planet
"Don't look at me, Mate. I'm here to save the world!"
Apparently, there's a bacteria in the kangaroo stomach that allows them to break down food differently than other animals. Why is this relevant? According to a study, 14% of the global warming emissions is the methane gas coming from cattle. I've never been to Australia, but I'm assuming that it isn't much smellier than living in New York is, but it looks like the cattle are causing some ripe problems. Who'd have known that so much damage was being done? There's a third grade quality silent but deadly joke in their somewhere that I'm missing. Don't blame the kangaroos though, their special stomachs allow them to produce clean gas. Yes, the kangaroos are apparently keeping the world safer, even if they put away a particularly bean filled bowl of chili. Mad scientists want to see if they can start modifying other animals to have this too. Did I say mad? I meant...scientists. I'm all about saving the world, but doesn't it seem like we're really grasping at straws here if they're trying to fix it this way. Somehow, I don't think the answer to the world's environmental problems lies in whatever is coming out of a sheep's ass.
Do you smell something? I smell a cleaner planet
"Don't look at me, Mate. I'm here to save the world!"
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
I Just Called to Say I'm Creepy
I came across this link today, which is certainly an odd collision of the cyber and real world we live in today.
Hey Baby, u don't know me, but I'm standing across this bar checking u out. :) LOL :)
Now, approaching someone online is one thing. I know plenty of people who have gotten into things like match.com, but this is something else entirely. It's apparently some sort of service that allows you to text people across the room from you to "break the ice." I mean..wow. Really? I feel like nothing would flatter a girl more than texting her to tell her that she looks good, but I'm too chicken to actually come and talk to her. What's the protocol for her then? Text you back or is she forced to start the actual conversation?
Entertainingly enough, this is a direct sentence from their site, "This approach is so new and unique that very few people understand the situations in which it will work for them, or the full potential of this idea." No kidding guys. People don't entirely understand it, cause it's a little odd. If you're bold enough to go on this blind date, speed dating like location, you'd think you could talk to someone. You're all there in a big meet up meat market. The ice is already broken!
There's also a section on when this would NOT work for someone. First off, if you live in a rural environment. Sorry farmland areas, you're going to have to resort to online, there's no local bar for you. Then, if you're going through a painful break up:
Sadly, it's only in the UK. One day, kids....one day.
Hey Baby, u don't know me, but I'm standing across this bar checking u out. :) LOL :)
Now, approaching someone online is one thing. I know plenty of people who have gotten into things like match.com, but this is something else entirely. It's apparently some sort of service that allows you to text people across the room from you to "break the ice." I mean..wow. Really? I feel like nothing would flatter a girl more than texting her to tell her that she looks good, but I'm too chicken to actually come and talk to her. What's the protocol for her then? Text you back or is she forced to start the actual conversation?
Entertainingly enough, this is a direct sentence from their site, "This approach is so new and unique that very few people understand the situations in which it will work for them, or the full potential of this idea." No kidding guys. People don't entirely understand it, cause it's a little odd. If you're bold enough to go on this blind date, speed dating like location, you'd think you could talk to someone. You're all there in a big meet up meat market. The ice is already broken!
There's also a section on when this would NOT work for someone. First off, if you live in a rural environment. Sorry farmland areas, you're going to have to resort to online, there's no local bar for you. Then, if you're going through a painful break up:
"I'm still getting over a difficult breakup, will Ice Brkr still work for me?
If you're feeling quite vulnerable at the moment, you may want to make sure you have the support of close friends while meeting new people in a bar via Ice Brkr. Or you may want to consider online dating in the first instance and move on to Ice Brkr when you're feeling a bit stronger."
Damn, I have to be emotionally strong to use this site? Well there goes that. At the very least, my friends will be there with me, when the girl comes to kick my ass for texting her creepy stalker messages from across the bar!Sadly, it's only in the UK. One day, kids....one day.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
How Much Do I Tip the Pizza Guy?
Ever been standing next to the delivery guy, holding a bag of food, and thinking, "What the hell do I give this guy?"
There are all those supposed shorthand methods to what is good and bad tipping. I live in New York, and we've got our cab tipping rates. It's always $1 plus the leftover change, but if your cabbie gets into an accident, then he only gets the business end of your stern talking to, as you hop out to go about your way. Sometimes, the cabbie gets a little angry at that tip (I think it goes up accordingly per $10, so $2 plus the change for anything over $20), but if he drives you all the way out to the airport and doesn't do anything but pop the trunk, then what am I paying for? The pleasure of manual labor?
This doesn't mean that I'm into undertipping. I feel too guilty to do that. The lowest restaurant tip that I'll give is still doubling the 8.25% tax. Although, I do recall one time as a child and out with my parents, where the waiter left in the middle of our dinner. He literally left for the night, and not to the store for an extra block of cheese. I'd have given him the benefit of the doubt of a family emergency, but he just strolled down the street, happy as could be, as if he didn't have a care in the world. This left the dilemma of whether or not to tip the waiter who subbed in for him at the end. He did a good job taking care of the check and clearing the dishes, but if they don't all pool tips, then it was sort of like tipping the person who comes in and cleans the whore house after the hookers have gone home (Sadly, a process that I've witnessed, but a story for another day).
This brings me to my original point. There's a system for figuring all these out. What do you tip the pizza guy? For some reason, I've never had any idea. I find myself standing there counting bills under pressure like a game of beat the clock. Part of me hopes that if I count it slow enough, the delivery guy will just tell me a reasonable answer. Of course, after a minute of stalling, I'd almost give him $100 just to end the awkward silence. Tonight, I ordered my dinner from a restaurant online, and it allows you to factor in a tip with your online credit card purchase. When the guy showed up though, the receipt I had to sign had another line for "extra gratuity." Hadn't I already tipped? I didn't know what to do with myself, so I added another dollar. Bottom line, I need a good tipping system. The restaurant might have your name off a credit card, but the delivery guy knows where you live. I make it a practice to not anger people who know where I live.
There are all those supposed shorthand methods to what is good and bad tipping. I live in New York, and we've got our cab tipping rates. It's always $1 plus the leftover change, but if your cabbie gets into an accident, then he only gets the business end of your stern talking to, as you hop out to go about your way. Sometimes, the cabbie gets a little angry at that tip (I think it goes up accordingly per $10, so $2 plus the change for anything over $20), but if he drives you all the way out to the airport and doesn't do anything but pop the trunk, then what am I paying for? The pleasure of manual labor?
This doesn't mean that I'm into undertipping. I feel too guilty to do that. The lowest restaurant tip that I'll give is still doubling the 8.25% tax. Although, I do recall one time as a child and out with my parents, where the waiter left in the middle of our dinner. He literally left for the night, and not to the store for an extra block of cheese. I'd have given him the benefit of the doubt of a family emergency, but he just strolled down the street, happy as could be, as if he didn't have a care in the world. This left the dilemma of whether or not to tip the waiter who subbed in for him at the end. He did a good job taking care of the check and clearing the dishes, but if they don't all pool tips, then it was sort of like tipping the person who comes in and cleans the whore house after the hookers have gone home (Sadly, a process that I've witnessed, but a story for another day).
This brings me to my original point. There's a system for figuring all these out. What do you tip the pizza guy? For some reason, I've never had any idea. I find myself standing there counting bills under pressure like a game of beat the clock. Part of me hopes that if I count it slow enough, the delivery guy will just tell me a reasonable answer. Of course, after a minute of stalling, I'd almost give him $100 just to end the awkward silence. Tonight, I ordered my dinner from a restaurant online, and it allows you to factor in a tip with your online credit card purchase. When the guy showed up though, the receipt I had to sign had another line for "extra gratuity." Hadn't I already tipped? I didn't know what to do with myself, so I added another dollar. Bottom line, I need a good tipping system. The restaurant might have your name off a credit card, but the delivery guy knows where you live. I make it a practice to not anger people who know where I live.
Monday, December 3, 2007
All is Right With the World Again
Fear not, everyone. Apparently, Siegfried and Roy are open to one day making a comeback.
I promise you that tigers are nice, and my tiger friend loves me. What? No one believes me? Come on, come play with my tiger friend.
The most shocking thing about this article to me is actually how old they are. I had no idea Siegfried was nearly 70 and Roy was in his early 60s. Really guys? How rich are you by now? I know when I'm 63, that I'll be preparing for some sort of peaceful retirement and I'm not going to be getting my jollys by putting my head inside a tiger's toothy mouth!
I promise you that tigers are nice, and my tiger friend loves me. What? No one believes me? Come on, come play with my tiger friend.
The most shocking thing about this article to me is actually how old they are. I had no idea Siegfried was nearly 70 and Roy was in his early 60s. Really guys? How rich are you by now? I know when I'm 63, that I'll be preparing for some sort of peaceful retirement and I'm not going to be getting my jollys by putting my head inside a tiger's toothy mouth!
Tis the Season...
Here we are, the holidays are upon us again. The tree has been lit at Rockefeller Center, the ice skating rinks are open again, people are outside ringing bells collecting for the needy, and the kids have started hopping into Santa's lap to find out if he'll get them what they've always wanted for Christmas. Of course, in this case, all Santa and his little friend got was a big bit of pie.
I love the way that pie oozes through your beard
This creatively named kid, "Clint Westwood," apparently took matters into his own hands to teach Santa a lesson for giving him that large sack of coal last year. He slammed a pumpkin pie into Santa's face while he was working at the mall. He wanted to wait for the little girl to move away, but then decided it was funnier with her in the shot. This budding filmmaker also recorded the whole thing, but was arrested before Santa could sign the release. Somehow, I feel like Clint Westwood is a stage name pulled from the farthest depths of creativity. It reeks of artistic genius...it almost sounds like a name I've heard before that might give the allusion of fame. Even the cop is unimpressed, as he states that Santa could have kicked this guy's ass if he'd gone over after. You certainly never saw Clint Eastwood get beat up by Santa.
I love the way that pie oozes through your beard
This creatively named kid, "Clint Westwood," apparently took matters into his own hands to teach Santa a lesson for giving him that large sack of coal last year. He slammed a pumpkin pie into Santa's face while he was working at the mall. He wanted to wait for the little girl to move away, but then decided it was funnier with her in the shot. This budding filmmaker also recorded the whole thing, but was arrested before Santa could sign the release. Somehow, I feel like Clint Westwood is a stage name pulled from the farthest depths of creativity. It reeks of artistic genius...it almost sounds like a name I've heard before that might give the allusion of fame. Even the cop is unimpressed, as he states that Santa could have kicked this guy's ass if he'd gone over after. You certainly never saw Clint Eastwood get beat up by Santa.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Peppering Your Way to Victory
The Miss Universe Pageant got a little ugly on Sunday. I guess even those beauty queens will go to desperate measures to ensure victory.
I swear this dress is itchier than normal. What's it made out of?
Apparently, someone was so dead set on Miss Puerto Rico not pulling out a victory, that a series of pranks occurred. Her bag and credit cards were all stolen, a bomb threat was called in to halt competition and finally, someone covered her clothes and makeup with pepper spray! Pepper spray? That ingenius bastard. Now, despite this being a clever and sneaky way to exact a little vengeance, the perpetrator forgot one tiny little detail. This is a beauty competition. It's not like the winner actually gets to rule over the universe. It's the only competition in the world where when someone says, "Oh, she's just another pretty face," that's a compliment. Also, "Miss Universe" is a bit of a misnomer, I mean, do we really know that she's better looking than the top level ladies of Planet Greeblenor 9? Get it together, beauty pageant prankster. There are more important things in life.
I swear this dress is itchier than normal. What's it made out of?
Apparently, someone was so dead set on Miss Puerto Rico not pulling out a victory, that a series of pranks occurred. Her bag and credit cards were all stolen, a bomb threat was called in to halt competition and finally, someone covered her clothes and makeup with pepper spray! Pepper spray? That ingenius bastard. Now, despite this being a clever and sneaky way to exact a little vengeance, the perpetrator forgot one tiny little detail. This is a beauty competition. It's not like the winner actually gets to rule over the universe. It's the only competition in the world where when someone says, "Oh, she's just another pretty face," that's a compliment. Also, "Miss Universe" is a bit of a misnomer, I mean, do we really know that she's better looking than the top level ladies of Planet Greeblenor 9? Get it together, beauty pageant prankster. There are more important things in life.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Potato Day
Well, the turkey has come and gone, the family fun has ended, but there was a much more important issue that people weighed in on. Turkey Schmurkey. How do you like your mashed potatoes? It is the main job that I partake in on the bestest of all holidays....one devoted to devouring tasty food.
To Lump or Not to Lump
Besides the fact that my potato mashing audience did not reply kindly to suggestions of change (Apparently, no one likes to break with tradition), there is always a question of the lump to smoothness ratio. Now, I feel like without any lumps whatsoever, then how is one to know that they have been mashed entirely by hand. However, with too much lumpiness, then it is apparent and poor tasting. I mean, let's face it, who wants to chew their way through a lot of potato to get to the good stuff. This year there was a lot of stressful tasks involved in getting it all ready.
Supplies were missing at first, there were greater time constraints, 3 other pots to manage on the stove at the same time. It was nearly impossible to create any kind of potato masterpiece under conditions such as though. However, I battened down, stretched out my fingers and went to town on those potatoes. There was no time for hesitation. With the hour growing later and the masses growing hungrier, every mash could be my last. The feverish mashing went on and on. My mother was just going to have to wait to get the stuffing finished, and the corn, and the green beans, and the sweet potatoes. Oh no, what horror have I caused? I wiped the potato from my forehead, and I looked down at the two filled pots of mashed up goodness. Were they ready? I had no choice but to abandon my post. Dinner could not be delayed for mashed perfection. The needs of the many food courses outweighed the few.
Luck would strike me soon after. The crowds were happy. The angry villager family members put down their pitchforks. I had underestimated the creation that I had made due to time constraints. My potato legacy was untainted, and the magic would carry on for at least one more year without me being voted off of potato island
To Lump or Not to Lump
Besides the fact that my potato mashing audience did not reply kindly to suggestions of change (Apparently, no one likes to break with tradition), there is always a question of the lump to smoothness ratio. Now, I feel like without any lumps whatsoever, then how is one to know that they have been mashed entirely by hand. However, with too much lumpiness, then it is apparent and poor tasting. I mean, let's face it, who wants to chew their way through a lot of potato to get to the good stuff. This year there was a lot of stressful tasks involved in getting it all ready.
Supplies were missing at first, there were greater time constraints, 3 other pots to manage on the stove at the same time. It was nearly impossible to create any kind of potato masterpiece under conditions such as though. However, I battened down, stretched out my fingers and went to town on those potatoes. There was no time for hesitation. With the hour growing later and the masses growing hungrier, every mash could be my last. The feverish mashing went on and on. My mother was just going to have to wait to get the stuffing finished, and the corn, and the green beans, and the sweet potatoes. Oh no, what horror have I caused? I wiped the potato from my forehead, and I looked down at the two filled pots of mashed up goodness. Were they ready? I had no choice but to abandon my post. Dinner could not be delayed for mashed perfection. The needs of the many food courses outweighed the few.
Luck would strike me soon after. The crowds were happy. The angry villager family members put down their pitchforks. I had underestimated the creation that I had made due to time constraints. My potato legacy was untainted, and the magic would carry on for at least one more year without me being voted off of potato island
Friday, November 2, 2007
At Least Spider-Man Turned Out OK...
Spider bites can lead to all sorts of dangerous outcomes. There's swollen limbs, poison, super powers, and also the ever present desire to suddenly rape someone.
The spider made me do it!
Instantly climbing the ladder to the top 5 of the dumbest criminals, this guy tried to convince a court that the poison from a spider is what made him crazy enough to become a rapist. Strong defense there, pal. Next time, I get stung by a bee, then I can't wait to see what I'll get away with. I have been feeling like cash is a little tight. I didn't mean to rob that bank, the bee made me do it. Something about the combination of the honey and the toxins made me turn into Loony McPsycho, the publisher of the Crazytown Gazette. Imagine what a mosquito might do. That taint to the bloodstream could make you go insane with rage. Who is that person who looked at you funny when you cut them off getting off the subway? Next time, buddy, next time, I'm going to....what's that? Oh, he lost the case? Um, disregard this last paragraph.
The spider made me do it!
Instantly climbing the ladder to the top 5 of the dumbest criminals, this guy tried to convince a court that the poison from a spider is what made him crazy enough to become a rapist. Strong defense there, pal. Next time, I get stung by a bee, then I can't wait to see what I'll get away with. I have been feeling like cash is a little tight. I didn't mean to rob that bank, the bee made me do it. Something about the combination of the honey and the toxins made me turn into Loony McPsycho, the publisher of the Crazytown Gazette. Imagine what a mosquito might do. That taint to the bloodstream could make you go insane with rage. Who is that person who looked at you funny when you cut them off getting off the subway? Next time, buddy, next time, I'm going to....what's that? Oh, he lost the case? Um, disregard this last paragraph.
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