The Party. . . is Moving. . .

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on June 12, 2010 by danof89





































I am in the process of moving your “favorite” blog (I would be referring to THIS) to its own WEB SITE http://gofiggr.com! So if you want to check it out go to http://gofiggr.com and let me know what you think. There aren’t any bells and whistles. (yet) But I have a few surprises in store. . . if I can just figure out what the heck I’m doing. . . Thanks for reading. . . and as always. . . 




‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!


Peace Out. . . Later 

D A N


P.S. Load times may be a little slow, while I sort things out. . . Thanks for your patience. . . oh, did I mention the link? 
http://gofiggr.com . . . cool  



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Hyperbolic Stare-oids Left Me a Little Teste

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on June 8, 2010 by danof89

 . . . I mean “testy”. . .Unless you are doing a “self-examination”. . . in which case, it might be true either way. Unless you’re a woman. If you ARE a woman. . . congratulations. . . on putting up with being one. That’s some kind of dedication. I couldn’t do it. Too much “pain” involved. . . Gnarly stuff. Last time I checked, I was a man. . . Not that I have to check with any regularity. I usually catch it during the “self-examination”. . . like the one they showed us how to “perform” in my 6th grade “Health Class”. Actually, it wasn’t “Health Class”
 as much as a day set aside, once a year, when boys and girls, in their first year of “middle school”, were separated into two groups during “Gym Class”. The girls were led off to the “Wood Shop” classroom, by our friendly neighborhood “Female Lumberjack Gym-Teaching Duo”
 . The year was 1982 and as far as I can remember, at that point I knew very little about “Life Partners” (I still don’t) In the small rural Iowa farm community I lived in that 6th grade year, I think it would be safe to say that few other people did either. But, looking back at it after all these years (and I hadn’t planned on even THINKING of that time in my life until THIS PRECISE moment) . . . The two ladies heading up the Physical Education Program at the Davis County Middle School were SO “a couple”. . . But nobody ever said anything. . . at least not to us kids. They were even prone to “spats”during school hours (often during tax-payer-funded physical education sessions) One would not be talking to the other, for whatever reason (probably over who used the last of the moustache wax), while the other did their best to put on a brave lesbian face
 and trudge through with teaching all the other students in my class how NOT to pick me until the second to the last teammate for a rousing game of “Cover Your Privates and Scream Like a Girl”
 . (You may know it as “Dodgeball”) There are two words for why I was picked second-to-last. . . David Freelawn. . . rather than embarrass this poor guy any further, I will leave it at that. . . EXCEPT to say that he weighed about a GAJILLION pounds, he sweat A LOT. . . and he ALWAYS smelled just like “corn chips”. (A few years later; in a moment of weakness and in an effort to become “popular”, I came up with his nickname: David “Frito~Lay”- thus, cementing my status as “smart ass” and subsequently scarring him for life)
 . . . Speaking of irreparable damage. . .
“Us boys” were taken to the “Home-Economics” classroom. I am unsure of why the girls were sent to a such a “GUY” area, while the boys were sent to an exclusively “GIRL” area. (Perhaps to add to all the confusion) The “boys” were assigned a “SINGLE MALE INSTRUCTOR”. When I say “single male”, it has a dual meaning. Yes, it was just ONE dude. . . BUT, he was also not married. As far as I can recall, he was about as single as you can get. He was our “Art Teacher” and seemed VERY content doing “art-related activities”
 , unicumbered by the trappings of “human interaction”. . . or “a wife”. I seem to remember him being very fond of “paisley” and “decoupage” (though not necessarily simultaneously)
Without any forewarning (or notes home to our parents requesting permission) we would soon be subjected to the most jaw-dropping, nausea-inducing, myth-debunking and totally confusing 2 hours that any pre-pubescent adolescent will ever experience in the “ENTIRE HISTORY OF FOREVER”. . .
. . . “SEX EDUCATION CLASS”. . .
To this day, I am uncertain who made the decision to put those 3 individuals in charge of “teaching” us what they did. . . I am still not sure what it was they actually “taught” us.
 I have the feeling that they actually volunteered for the opportunity. But I WILL say that when all was said and done (mainly said. . . actually all said. . . nothing was DONE. . . this was the early 80’s and those kind of student/teacher relations wouldn’t be en vogue for several more years) But when the smoke settled, the girls and the boys walked out of their respective “Information Hubs”
 and we didn’t look at each other quite the same way. Some of us didn’t look at each other until 7th grade. It was awful. . . I am certain that the majority of us walked out much more confused than when we had gone in. In fact, I think there were a number that walked out thinking they were gay. . . or at least “very happy”. . . (no, not me – I was still straight and miserable) But NOW, I was slightly confused. THIS wasn’t what I’d learned about the “birds and the bees”. When I was 5 years old; my mother (a lifelong nurse and minister’s wife) got tired of answering my questions (yes, I had a LOT of them at that tender age) about the “Human Reproductive System” and sat down with her copy of “The Physician’s Desk Reference” and “The Encyclopedia Britannica – ‘Volume A’ for “Anatomy” and let me know ALL about it . . . in “clinical terms”. However, knowing how “vocal” I was as a child, mom still decided to use “geographical nicknames” and “southern slang” for the “good stuff”. (Mom and Dad had been raised in the Ozarks. . . I’m hillbilly from WAY BACK)
 Shortly thereafter, many an “ice breaker” could be overheard, when my parents would venture with me out amongst the “common folk”:


ME at age 5 years (the day after “my talk”)


“My mom has a ‘Virginia’,” I would declare to a random salesperson or clergyman, while my mom searched for a proper “beating device”.


“Daddy has a ‘Trotline’,” I would exclaim to a convenience store employee or teacher, as my father pretended  I was someone else’s lost child.


. . . To this day, I have a hard time hearing about Hurricanes hitting the Eastern Seaboard and I HATE fishing. . .
 

Of course, MY way of dealing with uncomfortable situations was with “humor” – a trait not lost on this opportunity, some 7 years later:


In the last few agonizing moments of our “Video Presentation” we were forced to sit through a ‘vignette’ featuring a “Father-Son Combo”
 extolling the importance of “Testicular Cancer Awareness and Prevention”, complete with detailed “How to Check Your Junk” footage. I will be honest, at that age I was barely aware I had testicles and the only thing I wanted to prevent, was them being “nailed” in “Dodgeball”. The fact I had to watch how to deal with this was almost more than I could handle. . . The game really should have been called “HITball”.


Boy, was that a “humdinger”. . . (That’s what I thought after watching the video) . . . Actually, that’s what I asked my gym teacher after the video was over. . . I was VERY uncomfortable after sitting through a class headed up by Andy Warhol’s love child with David Bowieabout “sexuality”. . . I had to “act” to diffuse the situation. . . and I had to act soon. . .


“Excuse me Mr. Sexton?” , (yes his REAL name) I asked, trying to control my snickering. I felt as if my head was about to explode and I was going to throw up. I was ill-equipped to handle saying the teacher’s name with any sense of maturity and THIS was about to send me over the edge. . . this was already ALL SORTS OF WRONG on EVERY IMAGINABLE LEVEL.


“What is it Danny?”, sighed my teacher (it was bad enough that I was called “Danny” at this stage in my life, but when HE said it, it REALLY rhymed with the word “Panty”. . . I made an attempt to shorten it to “DAN” in 7th grade, to mixed results. After all, “DAN” rhymes with “MAN”. . . a point you cannot dispute)


“Was THAT a ‘humdinger’?” I repeated in my outside voice . . . the awkward silence that filled my “Information Hub”
 was stifling. . . Mr. S was a little “thrown” by my question. I could see it in my teacher’s eyes. Was I referencing the video “package” we’d just watched as a “unit” . . . or was this a clever “turn of phrase” referring to the “male anatomy”? I think we ALL knew. . . Soon a collective sigh filled the classroom. . . followed by laughter and eventually Mr. S decided to let us go “early” to roam the halls of our middle school telling “Sack and Bag” jokes with reckless abandon. Oh how grand it was. . . 
(That is not even close to true) 
He actually told us that he hoped we’d paid attention, because he had a ‘loved one’ that lost a nut in the Vietnam War and it was NO LAUGHING MATTER . . . talk about a tough room! (I never knew what getting one blown off and having cancer had to do with one another) but I then became quite aware of why HE had chosen to participate in “teaching” us. . . but I still think the Lumberjills were “recruiting”. . .


As if my introduction to this particular “Subject Matter” during “Regular School-Operating Hours” hadn’t been surreal and uncomfortable enough. . . the fun had JUST begun. . . For some god-awful reason after we came back from Christmas Break (back before the Satanists started calling it “Winter Recess”) . . . they decided to add a knew “wrinkle” to “Physical Education” class. . . SHOWERS. . . Again, with no proper warning, no notes to my parents, and for NO DAMN GOOD REASON, the Board of Education (in their infinite wisdom and with limitless resources) again tapped into “Tax-Payer” money, built new locker rooms equipped with “State of the Art” SHOWERS and decided that children were REQUIRED to BATHE after P.E. . . and after being subjected to that “VIDEO”. . . I can only say it was “horrifying”. Not only had I never been nude in front of another guy (or ANYONE – I’d blocked out my parents during my bed-wetting spell in the summer of ’79) but I’d really hoped to save that for someone I “Loved” or at the least . . . a “Female Doctor”. “Communal Bathing” was probably the single most traumatic experience I had the displeasure of taking part in during all of my adolescence. . . and there was definitely some trauma. I think that communal bathing is in fact the reason the Roman Empire fell. . . too many “distractions”. It’s intimidating. . .


. . . Jeffrey Harsh, was a nightmare of a boy. He had transferred in from some school in Chicago
 . He was equipped with a full 1 o’clock shadow. (no, not five o’clock) I know this, because I had study hall with him 3rd period (around 9 AM) and gym class with him right after lunch. Sure enough, he had grown more facial hair in that 4 hours, than I have, to date, my entire adult life. . . During the President’s Physical Fitness Award portion of the school year (after the holidays, when we’d had just enough time to stop doing any sort of physical activity), We were asked to perform a series of physically demanding and excrutiatingly painful tasks in a manner that would meet the lofty standards of our nation’s president (then, Ronald Reagan)
 . All so we would become the proud recipients of. . . a really cool “sew-on patch”. (I NEVER got one because of “pull ups”. I still consider whoever invented “pull ups” to be a major butthole). When it got around to time to perform “sit ups”, our Gym teacher (one of the lesbians) would match us with a partner based soley on their popularity. I was often paired with Frito~Lay. I remember thinking whoever had the misfortune of holding the ankles of Jeffrey Harsh during sit-ups was one unlucky individual. . . it would turn out to be “me”.
. . . He exuded “MAN”, while the rest of us barely secreted “man-child”. (perhaps ‘secreted’ was the wrong word) He was hairy, smelly and scary. Then it came shower time. . . I dreaded it. Every time I was made to do this, it was my own personal shower scene from “Carrie”(and we all know how THAT turned out)
 . If we attempted NOT SHOWERING, our “Lady Lumberdykes” would send an 8th grader in to report the names of the transgressors. (Usually, the second cousin of one of the teachers. A knuckle-scraping bohemith, by the name of THAD TARBUCKLE) He would start taunting us (usually me and a couple other modest fellas) until we succumbed. But inevitably, I would always relent. I would walk into the corner of the shower and avoid looking at anything. Unfortunately the shower heads were in a circle in the middle of the shower room. Everyone chatting away and pushing each other. Let me state, for the record, the very LAST thing I would want to do would be to slap another guy, whilst naked in the shower. (teasingly or otherwise)  Especially after the “video” we were forced to watch just a few months prior. Had I been the only one paying attention? I would stare straight ahead (though pasty boy-flesh was clearly visible in my periphery) “THIS WAS WRONG. . .” 
And if THAT wasn’t enough humiliation, in would walk THAD. . . The shower would go silent, while everyone tried to finish quickly. THAD would stand there and tease us mercilessly as we did our best to shield ourselves (or parts of ourselves) from his ridicule and critique. I am unsure why he was allowed to stand there and make fun of us. I’m sure if this were to happen today, more than a few lawsuits would be filed. And then (without warning, a letter to our parents or an explanation from God) in came the “new guy”. . . Jeffrey Harsh was a Centaur. Half-MAN, Half Horse. (mainly horse)
 He was that Mythologically freakish. . . He had never been held back. He was OUR age. But this was “scary” and impossible to live up to in terms of comparison. . . This was also one of the funniest things I ever witnessed in my life. Jeffrey strode up to THAD and stood staring at him face to face. . . Uncomfortable with the situation, THAD took a step backward. Jeffrey leaned in even closer. . . Then we heard him speak. (he rarely spoke) It was a soft, low “MAN-voice”. . . 


“Hey. . . Why don’t you back off THADEUS. . . Before I tell everyone why you’re not in 10th grade. . . Pee Wee. . . “


THAD, scared by the threat and visibly shaken by this blatant afront to his “manhood”, said nothing. . . He didn’t even look at us. He took one more step back, turned around and walked out of the locker room. . . never to return.


We all let Jeffrey go first the rest of the school year and waited for him to finish, before entering ourselves. . . It became an unwritten rule. . .
I don’t remember much more about that year of school. . . “Jeff” and I talked occasionally. He would tell me about Chicago and about “girls”. I guess you could say we became friends. I even began being picked a little higher in the draft for “Dodgeball”. . . But most of the the remnants of that year have melted with time. . . I remember a few years later my body caught up just like everyone else’s. But I remember thinking somehow a little of my innocence was gone. . . Jeffrey Harsh moved away after the school year was over. . . I think I heard he became a veterinarian in Alaska. . . I don’t know. . . I heard something about a “moose”
 . . . ba dum bump. . .


I played football for a couple of years in high school. But by and large I participated in NON-SHOWERING sports like Baseball, Golf and Tennis. . . I don’t like to sweat. . . EVER.


. . . In the beginning of this baseball season, I can’t help but ask pro athletes. . .  “What’s up with your nuts guys? Why are you always diggin’ and rootin’ around in there like you’ve got some sort of fungus?” Don’t get me wrong, It’s not just baseball. . . it’s not confined to the sports fields, arena’s and stadiums around the world. You see it every day. Guys hangin’ on for dear life or scratchin’ around down there like it’s on fire or like his junk is some sort of prized possession. (get over yourselves) 
MY JUNK NEVER NEEDS THAT MUCH ADJUSTMENT! (and I’m sure I’m not alone) Maybe because I paid attention to “the video” in 6th grade. . . and I “bathe”. . .
 

Let me tell ya’ something fella’s:


“They” ain’t goin’ anywhere. . . “It” ain’t goin’ anywhere. . . Take care of “your business” before you leave the house or at the very least, take care of it before you “stand up”. For the love of God, stop doing it when I’m trying to watch a game with my family. . . NOBODY needs to see that. . . Don’t make my kids ask. . . “Dad. . . Was that a ‘Hootenanny’?”. . . Thanks. . .


‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!


Peace Out. . . Later


D A N 


  
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I’m Going to Judge the “HELL” Out of You!

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on May 22, 2010 by danof89

. . . So who am “I” to judge you?. . . To be honest, I thought I’d “laid it out” for you pretty well. . . You really should’ve been paying more attention. Rather than repeat myself for the entire class, I’d like to meet with some of you after school for a “tutoring session”. It shouldn’t take too long. Just make sure you bring a sharpened #2 pencil. . . and some band-aids. . . This might get “messy”.


So what am I talking about. . . exactly? Well, it seems that I have outdone myself in the “Pissing People Off Department”. . . Go Figg’r! Last week, while the folks at FACEBBOOK and YouTube decided to go and get themselves banned from providing their internet services to the very good-natured and “always up for a laugh” population of Pakistan, a few members of a somewhat “intense” group of people in that area began scouring the internet – looking for other ways to “Get All Bunched Up” by people that didn’t share their “views”. I found MYSELF the recipient of several emails and comments about some of the “work” I do here at “Go Figg’r”. I have to say, I was fairly impressed that “little ol’ me” was capable of drawing the ire and ridicule of people I don’t even know. Usually, you have to know me for at least 5 minutes or more before I can elicit that much hatred. Initially, I was uncertain how I should respond to these “comments and suggestions”. Should I publish them? Should I notify my local law enforcement agency? Should I be worried? The fact of the matter is I WAS worried. . . but not about myself or my family. I was worried that “these people” didn’t seem to understand “WHAT I DO IS FUNNY”. You don’t have to AGREE with me. (few people do) You don’t have to LIKE me. (even fewer) But most importantly, YOU DON’T HAVE TO READ ME. . . (or kill me)


I thought it was important that I carefully gauge my response. . . I thought a “12 gauge” would probably do nicely. . .
 But that was a “knee jerk” reaction (which I assume means a “reflex” – unless it means I find one of these “jerks” and “knee them” in the nads) Violence doesn’t really solve anything. My new-found “Friends of a Different Faith” don’t seem to “get that”. . . for like THOUSANDS OF YEARS now, they don’t. I have a suggestion of my own. . . Some of you said that you were a “peace-loving” and “God-fearing” bunch. . . “not prone to violence”. Indeed, I know several NON-RADICAL members of the faith that are “cool”. I would like to believe that to be true for ALL of you. But you might have a LOT stronger case, if you weren’t “lopping people’s HEADS off”. . . and by threatening me, you aren’t accomplishing a whole lot. The mere fact that even your threats are required to have “veils”, does little in NOT perpetuating a negative stereotype. I’m afraid if you were trying to “prove a point” in the “words” you used – your point was lost. . . somewhere between the words “you” and “dead” or maybe it was between “pig” and “die”. . . no matter.
After a few more “messages” I decided that instead, I would offer up a carefully “measured” response. . . Unfortunately, this proved to be difficult. I am really uncertain what “unit of measure” is appropriate when describing the distance between “Me Being RIGHT” and “Them Being Dumbasses”. Is it “miles”?. . . “knots”?. . . Well, not unless the knot is the one used to cinch the rope around my neck. (according to the group that seems to find me SO DELIGHTFUL)


SO. . . In an effort to share my frustration, I chose to pick ONE of the “messages” I received this past week. Before I do that, I would like to explain that I have edited it. . . there were some “expletives” that made it inappropriate for my blog. (I like to keep it in the PG Rated Family – Which, again, is NOT the ABC FAMILY – they seem to be leaning towards a “Hard R”) Nevertheless, please find below one of the more “tame non-threatening suggestions” from this last week. It is “apparently” in reference to the “Easter Bit” that I offered last month. . . “apparently”. . .


Anonymous has left a new comment on your post “A Look at Easter. . .Yep, It’s Still There. . .“: Hi, for those of you who made that cartoon. I am an Islam follower. I don’t think what u have made seems right. It’s awful {word that rhymes with “Truck”}. For the God shake, Mohammed never sit on her bride’s shoulder. Her bride Aisyah who sat on his shoulder, not him. Dear Mother {“Trucker”} there, Our God : Allah will never regret ur decision not to be a muslim. And Prophet Mohammed never forced his people to believe his religion with that king of sword. There was no violence. The war was only for nonbelievers who against his people at that time.
I hope that God will bless u and forgive ur sin, U have to know that you have made sin to all people especially muslim around the world. 



. . . okay? . . . “Thank You?”. . . I am uncertain how to respond to this. . . But I’ll TRY. . . 
Let’s break it down point by point, okay? .

  1. I am not the creator of the “cartoon” in question. . . I merely thought it was hilarious. Especially when it got to the “punch line”. . . “Nuggets of Fowl”. . . that is some good stuff!
  2. I am HAPPY that you are a follower of Islam. . . Good for you!. . . I am a follower of Christianity. . . have a nice day!
  3. You don’t have to think what I “did” was right. . . in fact, I don’t even recall ASKING you
  4. Is it REALLY AWFUL? or just awful {word that rhymes with “Truck”}?
  5. Okay. . . you’re starting to lose me here, Punchy. . . It seems you may have used some sort of translator software to scribe this “gem”. . . “For the god shake?”. . . what does that mean, exactly? I don’t remember that verse from Sunday School . . . “created the heavens and earth” – sure – no brainer. Unless, you mean the NEW version of the Bible where it said, “God got ‘torked off’ and decided to ‘shake things up’ “
  6. As far as who sat on who’s shoulders?. . . I don’t care. . . not really interesting to me
  7. (another reference to “truckers”) Dear Mother Trucker there – have you ever seen “Ice Road Truckers?” It’s a pretty cool show. . . it might satisfy all of your {“trucking needs”}
  8. It appears that at this point you decide to let me know that Allah will NEVER regret my decision NOT to be of “your faith”. . . I was a little confused again. . . I’m NOT. . . your faith, I mean. . . so , yeah. . . uhm. . . was that “all”?
  9. OKAY, I haven’t brushed up on my Mohammed history lately, so I’m not even going to get into his “back story”. However, I DO seem to remember studying him in my “Religion and Sociology” class in college. . . and again, when writing my Thesis on “RELIGION IN THE MEDIA”. I will only say that I seem to recall several of “his scenes” being eerily reminiscent of the one found in “STAR WARS-EPISODE 3”, when Hayden Christensen’s character, Anakin Skywalker took it upon himself to “knock off” a village of “Sandpeople” singlehandedly – and later on decided it would behoove him to wipe out a class of “Young Jedi” at the “Jedi Training Preschool. . . what?. . . I’m a “Fanboy”. . .
  10. “THERE WAS NO VIOLENCE”. . . really? Then explain to me what the hell is going on in the Middle East EVERY DAY for as long as God (excuse me – Allah) knows when? That war “only against the nonbelievers”? Yeah Punchy, that’s still going on. . . Only this time. . . it’s getting a little “personal”. . . They’ve decided to bring it “home”. . . “MY home”. . . and a LOT of “YOURS”. . . GOD has forgiven me for my “sin” – thanks for your concern. But it had NOTHING to do with my “opinion”. . . I ONLY comment on what I “SEE”. . . As far as me sinning against “ALL PEOPLE, especially “your faith” world-wide”?. . . Ah, shucks. . . but I think you’re giving me too much credit.
     
. . . I’m a “bus driver”, Punchy. . . Oh, sure – I’m a brilliant writer and a terrific artist. I am a gifted comedic conversationalist. . . but what I think, doesn’t really affect the “WORLD”. . . Well, not yet. . . But I’m working on it. . .

. . . For the rest of you out there, I KNOW that I’ve said I rarely respond to comments given by people to my “BIT”– but I had to make an exception. . . or an “example” out of this chucklehead. . . and to the few that decided to let me know that I am nothing but a “Godless S***kicker”
 or tried desperately to put the “Fear of Allah” in me – I’m not going anywhere. . . no, seriously. . . I’m a “bus driver”. . . Nobody in HOLLYWOOD will return my calls (it says so every day at the top of my blog) So if you think you’re going to intimidate me. . . you’re WRONG. . . I only published ONE of the few “comments” because I don’t like validating anything that I find completely RETARDED. . . (unless it PAYS WELL) but I just wanted to send a message to those that think I don’t believe in the same GOD they do, that “I DO” . But I don’t really remember seeing a whole lot of “Protestant Uprisings” going on out there. Not a whole lot of “church folk” needing to KILL for what they believe in. . . You might be better off drawing a nice warm bath, lighting some candles and putting in a Jazz CD. . . You really NEED TO RELAX. . . if that doesn’t work, just pull the CD player into the tub with you and ELECTROCUTE yourselves. It might be the only “shocking” thing you can do that is “worthwhile”. . . 

‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!

Peace Out – Later

D A N     


P.S. I wanted to work on my book and some other stuff this week, but felt I needed to address my “detractors”. I will continue with the “LIST OF THINGS I CAN’T STAND ABOUT PEOPLE” soon. . . But somebody had to go and ruin it for the rest of the “class”. . . PEACE (no, really)    






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How Many Fingers Am I Holding Up?

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on May 17, 2010 by danof89
I’ll give you a hint. . . One. . . Okay, sometimes Two. . . But “which ones”? I find the problem lies in the fact that I ONLY have two “free ones” to aid me in “saluting” those that find a way, come hell or high water, to really mess things up for the rest of us during the course of any given day. It occured to me recently, that I am going on my third straight week of trying to be NICE. . . I am starting to get a little edgy. Any time that I focus on my “Children’s Book” or “Animated Film” pursuits, I tend to gravitate away from what is at the “root” of the majority of my humor. . . Sarcasm.
Please don’t get me wrong, I think there is plenty of room for sarcasm in ANY one of the many of my artistic endeavors. However, when I write for children (or people that can’t handle it when I use the ‘harsh-side’ of my brain) I tend to “tone it down” a couple notches. It’s actually quite remarkable that I am able to “dial it back”, when all I REALLY want to do is “let everyone have it”. You should be impressed with this ability (as I am sure you are). It’s a gift. . . But enough about me. . . I’m kidding. This is ALL about me. I would like to share something with you, so that you could better understand me. . . Let me start by saying, “I DON’T HATE EVERYONE or EVERYTHING”. (Wow, that felt pretty good ) I am also not even HALF this EGOTISICAL in “real life”. (That didn’t feel “half” as good)
The reason I felt the need to “purge” myself of some of these feelings is because I am about to “hunker down” and really throw myself into my “Children’s Book and/or Full Length Animated Feature Film” writing. There is a distinct possiblity that by doing this little “pet project”, I may appear, to some, to be a little bit “crass”. Those in the “industry” that I hope to be working with, one day soon, may (at some, imaginary point) READ something that I have written during the course of this “pet project” and thereby (unfairly and without justification) deem me “DIFFICULT TO WORK WITH”
I want to be like STEVEN HILLENBERG (Creator of SpongeBob) or STEPHEN SPIELBERG (Creator of a LOT of Money) But I CAN’T fail. . . I WON’T. . . To me, it is just inconceivable that I was BORN with this “talent”, so that I could DRIVE A SCHOOL BUS . (keep in mind, I won’t much longer if the “higher ups” read this and think I don’t consider my job, the TOPS) There are “plenty” of people out there that would be “eager” to have my job (scratch that – “A” job) Unfortunately (or fortunately) I am NOT “plenty of people”. . . I fully understand that HOLLYWOOD is filled with talented people that never “made it”. . . I truly feel “sorry” for them and wish them “all the best”. . . It can be difficult to draw unemployment or fake a disability claim. . . (Good Luck with that) .The POINT is, they aren’t “ME”. I grew up “knowing” that I was going to do something “BIG” 
. . . I’ve “worked” my whole life, knowing that it was “temporary”. (Especially, if my bosses read THIS) When I added a “family” to the mix, it became obvious that I was “working” for a REASON. . . It also crystalized in my mind, that NOW I needed to pursue my “DREAM” with a renewed vigor and zeal. No longer thinking “The Future is MINE” but realizing that NOW, “The Future is ‘OURS’ “. . . NO stupid, not YOU and me. My wife and kids and me. . . sorry, to get your hopes up. But the fact is you will ALL benefit, should my hopes and dreams be brought to fruition. Because, as much as I entertain my family and friend (yes, “friend” in the singular… and in actuality – my wife) I want to provide the WORLD with AS MUCH OF ME AS THEY CAN STOMACH. . . A bold endeavor, for sure, but if there’s anyone out there capable of filling the world with “THEM”. . . it’s “ME”. Sure, there are people out there who don’t “GET ME”. . . Even a couple (I believe they live in Missouri) that don’t even “LIKE ME”. . . but that’s. . . OKAY. Because I’m good enough. . . I’m smart enough. . . and dog-gone it (I really almost went for it there)  
What I REALLY wanted to let EVERYONE know, before I finally get my “BIG BREAK”, is that it couldn’t happen to a “Nicer Guy”. . . I’m sure you will all be pleased with the outcome. I hope to provide you and your families and friends with endless hours of entertainment and joy. I am NOT an “OGRE”. I DON’T “HATE” EVERYONE and EVERYTHING. I am REALLY easy to work with. Just ask anyone I’ve ever worked with. (on second thought, let me know who you’re going to ask and I’ll tell you what they were going to say. No sense in bothering them) THAT’S exactly how considerate I am with my coworkers. . .
You know something? (obviously, you don’t or you wouldn’t continue reading this crap) I REALLY wanted to show you just how much I “CARE” about people by making a LIST of “Things That I LOVE About People”. I put a LOT of thought into it. However, when I got to #2 on the list, I developed something that I have never before experienced in my LIFE. . . “Writer’s Block”. . . As a matter of fact, it put me into a really “foul mood”. . . I was actually starting to get a little worried. I went nearly TWO WEEKS without being able to come up with “anything” more for my “List”.Then – just yesterday, something happened that “inspired” me. During the course of my “working day“(the part of the day when I go out and actually earn “money” to support my family) I received a “GIFT”. I arrived at a school loading zone (remember, I am a school bus driver – not a predator). It was the second school pick-up and my last of the afternoon. I was sitting there waiting for the school to “release” the students to my custody so that I could deliver them to whoever cares about them. . . (I said I was in a “foul” mood) I sat there in the loading zone, facing the street, watching the people go by. Some driving by. Some waiting in cars to pick up their little “heathens”. (Oh yeah, I was LOVING life) At one point, I noticed a woman “jogging” with her dog on a leash across the street. The neighborhood I was picking the kids up in was in an area filled with “Prime Real Estate” (well, by Bakersfield’s Standards) Though, because of “redistricting” (bussing kids from poor areas to wealthy ones), a LOT of the kids that attend this school live in neighborhoods across the city – neighborhoods that the “Richies” in this one would scarcely think about driving through, let alone “look at”. (like mine)
Anyway, “Little Miss ALL THAT” was jogging pompously (you can do that, I SAW her) across a side street. I had “just” enough time to assess that I was repulsed by her very existence, when it happened. To my delight (and seemingly in ‘slow-motion’) she suddenly (and wonderfully, without warning) tripped over her own feet(clad in expensive ‘kicks’) and proceeded to do a “face plant” onto the sidewalk. I can only tell you the utter “joy” that consumed me at that precise moment was. . . Indescribable. She arrogantly peeled herself off the the sidewalk and rose to her feet (any ‘normal’ person would have laid on the ground writhing in agony – and indeed, if it HAD been a normal person, I might have felt a twinge of actually “giving a toss” – It was quite a “header”), while her dog looked at her as if to say, “You sure you’re up for this?” After a quick status check of her “podometer” and her requisite “vital sign arm band thingy”, she picked up the dog leash and gave her dog a tug (almost breaking its “well-dog-groomed” neck), her nose fully-engaged in “upward thrust” and was off on her merry little way again. (Apparently, no-less humiliated by the experience) There was even a parent sitting in the car next to the sidewalk she’d just used as a landing pad for her face, who took the time to “NOT LAUGH” and ask if she was okay (or comment on her form – I can’t read lips) She ignored his attention and trudged along. . .

I carefully monitored from across the street thinking, “I don’t care if you’re embarassed – acknowledge the guy’s existence! He didn’t laugh at you! He’s obviously the ‘Patron Saint of Sympathy’ !”

But she just “kept on -keepin’ on” like her feces didn’t retain its malodorous properties. . . At THAT moment, I knew my day was getting better. . .

“At least THAT wasn’t me,” I thought thankfully.

. . . Does that make me a “bad person”? Taking delight in the misfortune of others? . . . I don’t think so. . . Because those whose misfortune I revel in, tend to be on the “fortunate” side to begin with. So what if I didn’t know this “clumsy RICH jogger”?! I know her “type”
. . . So “I” have come to the realization that I am not EVIL. . . Do “You” still need some convincing? I’d love to help you out, but we’re still talking about “My” dilemma. Witnessing that clutz really isn’t what got my “creative juices” flowing again. . . but it got me thinking. . . Why do I have to be so nice, when the WORLD isn’t nice to ME?. . . Doesn’t really seem like a fair or equitable trade. I mean, I think I remember the “GOLDEN RULE” being of some sort of significance in my upbringing, but what could that POSSIBLY have to do with me at “this” stage of my life? The WORLD has already done its best to “Beat the Tar” out of me. . . Isn’t it only fair that I return the favor?. . . with “interest”? So, I decided that rather than knock myself out trying to come up with a “List of Things I LOVE About People”, I’d work on a “List of Things I TOLERATE About People”. . . This list netted 3 Items (none of which I will share with you at this point) It also “ate up” another entire week of my time (I REALLY tried to put some thought into it). But being the eternal optimist that I am (isn’t it obvious?) I had an “epiphany” (an overused word for an idea or realization – which, by the way, has not happened to ANYONE since the 1940’s) I decided that I would make a “List of Things I CAN’T STAND About People” and call it a day. . . But I couldn’t do that. . . WHY? Because there are WAY too many things for ONE LIST. . .

So. . . I’ve decided to start off with a FEW. . . and go from there. . . I will update the LIST when it appears some of you decide I haven’t thought of enough. . .
Things I CAN’T STAND About People (in “no particular order”, but “categorized” for Quick Reference)

  • The stupid “I Go ~ No, You Go Dance”  – This occurs when you find yourself traveling in one direction, then come across someone traveling from an “opposing” (not opposite) direction, trying to occupy the “same space” that you are at the “same time”. This occurrence is NOT limited to being in a car (at say, a 4 way stop) In fact, it happens to me quite often while walking in “ANY and “ALL PUBLIC PLACES”. (A GREAT example is the MALL – Which, is precisely #1 on my list of “WHY I HATE THE MALL”) You will be strolling along and see someone walking in your direction, with NO CLEAR sign that in a matter of seconds you will be staring awkwardly at each other’s feet, paralyzed like an idiot, because neither of you had “any idea” WHERE the other was walking; and NOW you’re at standstill until “someone” relents and says, “You First”. I personally REFUSE to engage in this idiotic “dance”. If I am in my car, I ALWAYS have the right of way. I will “look off” the other driver or consequently rip their bumper off with the grill of my car to let them know, “Oh, but I insist”. If I am “on foot”, all I really need to do is throw a “hip check” or “push them to the ground”. . . I hate to “dance”.
  • the ridiculous “Endless Goodbye”  – Tends to happen in “Overly-Occupied” locations. Say you are at an amusement park with your family. (If you were with mine, it would be weird) You are “Mindin’ Your Own”, buying your kids some over-priced Amusement Park-style Crap, when you feel a ‘tap’ on your shoulder. You turn to “take a swing”, until you realize that “right here“, a good “150 MILES AWAY” from your “place of business” stands a fellow “Co-worker” of yours. With his/her family in tow – all dressed much “nicer” than you and your family. After exchanging cursory pleasantries, you introduce them to your family, talk about meaningless ‘work-related nonsense’ – while your spouses “size each other up” – then stand and stare at the ground, trying to think of a way to get away from someone you “Hate at the office” – LET ALONE in a “Social Situation”. Finally, luckily, one of your kids harpoons one of your other kids in the eye with a “Silly Straw” or pees their pants. . . thus giving you “the opening” you need to get the hell away from this person. . . You say, “Goodbye, Nice Meeting You, We’ll Have to Get Together Sometime, See You at the Office. . . okay then. . . goodbye” (etc.) . . . So that’s it. . . Right?. . . NEVER!. . . Seeing how you “ran into” this person 5 minutes after the gate opened, you end up running into them 37 (possibly 82) more times, before you leave the park that day. . . “Hey, Guys! Great Park, huh? We’ll Have to Stop Meeting Like This! You Again?. . Ha! Ha! Oh Crap, Here They Come! Go This Way!” (etc.) When you have the misfortune of seeing the person at work, the following week, you have to “compare notes”, tell them how “great” it was to see them for a WEEK before you can go back to secretly “loathing” them.
  • the annoying “Take a Frickin’ Picture!”  Another “event” that can take place while you are in a vehicle or simply having a conversation with someone “Face-to-Face”. I haven’t decided which one irritates me MORE, but they both have a place in my “What is WRONG With You?” file. (which is apparently starting RIGHT NOW) I call it an “event” because the perpetrators of this particular activity seem to enjoy the practice of “Gawking” (Like they purchased tickets for “Looking at YOU” and they are “non-refundable”). It can even be subtle sometimes. . . Have you ever had a conversation with someone, that for whatever reason, becomes “fixated” on something other than “What You are Saying”? (Ladies, I don’t necessarily mean what you think) I am talking more about something obscure. . . Something, that you-yourself are unable to identify. Like. . . “your hair” or “your teeth”. They MAY even get “bizarre” with it and decide that they want to survey “your wardrobe” during the course of a “discussion”; NEVER seeming to take any interest in what you are saying. They seem like they are “taking in the BIGGER picture”. Usually after talking to someone like this, I run to the nearest available restroom to do a “nostril/teeth/fly” check. When I find that I wasn’t talking to them with a “side of beef”  wedged in my teeth, a booger hangin’ out of my nose or any “dangling participles”, I am usually even MORE bewildered. (and often, disappointed) WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?”, I’ll question myself. . . when, in all likelihood, the better question posed would be, “What was wrong with THEM?” – The other time that I notice this practice (though, they seem to have “perfected” it , with little-to-no “practice”) is when I am driving. Actually, when I am in my car, the first in line – “sitting” in a left-turn pocket at a STOP LIGHT. Since, I am waiting on my left turn signal to change (by LAW, I am not allowed the “right of way” – stupid rule) I have time to fidget with my radio, look up my nose in the rear-view mirror or anything else that suits my mood at the time. HOWEVER, I have noticed that when cars turning onto the street that I am waiting on pass in front of me, The driver of the vehicles (and sometimes the passengers) STARE at me as they turn. . . I KNOW that I am not the only one to have experienced this phenomenon. I am unsure sometimes if we have “met” at another intersection at some point or if they feel “slighted” because of my “devilish” good looks. . . whatever the reason, it drives me NUTS. Perhaps, they think that I am unexplicably going to stomp on the gas pedal, thus “screwing up their day” by killing them in a freak “Oops, I Didn’t See You There” accident. . . Believe me. . . I “see” you there. . . I just don’t make a “BIG DEAL” about it. . .
. . . SO? . . . SO. . . You can imagine my surprise (well TRY, for the sake of  ‘understanding my ramblings’) I was genuinely mortified when I thought I’d lost my “Creative MOJO”. In all my years of doing “artsy-fartsy” stuff, I had never experienced being a “Creative Cripple”. (I am sorry – become “Creatively Challenged”)
So how many fingers am I holding up? Well, that is actually debatable. How many have I “freed-up” in the last year, since I started writing “this thing“? (“pet projects” now seem more like installing new rain gutters or making shelves for a hall closet)
Let’s start with “Which Fingers Are Available?”
. . . I’d say that my “ring fingers” are already taken. I’m married, so that is my left ring finger (I have the right one on reserve, unless I lose the other one in an industrial accident) I typically use my “index fingers” for pointing out things that are WRONG with people, picking my nose and (of course) for “indexing” things. I have kids, so my “little fingers” are usually pretty well booked with “pinky swears”. I guess, I could use my “thumbs” to give everyone a good old “Thumbs Up” (or down – probably “down”But instead, I think I will hold onto them for when I need to occasionally “Thumb my Nose” at the occasional Societal Idiocracy, Ideology and Imperfection. . . In addition, it is also “widely recognized” that “thumbs” are not considered “fingers”. (and yes, I have begun researching who decided that, so I can “thumb my nose” at them) . . .Which leaves me with “2 digits”. . . I think you knew where this headed from the “Get Go”. . . Though “those 2 fingers” are reserved for no ONE in particular, they are “At the Ready – All the Time. . .
Though my “heart” will ALWAYS be with the pursuit of my DREAM to be a “Children’s Book Author and Illustrator”; and even though I will continue to do everything I can to “Take a Crack” at being the “NEXT BIG THING” in “Children’s Television & Film” – I will ALWAYS be “ME”. . . and I will always “Thank God I’m not YOU”. . . I very much DISLIKE the words “Rants” or “Observations” when referring to a “BLOG”. I don’t think that’s what “I” do. . . That is probably why I very rarely refer to “this” as a blog. A “Rant” has always seemed like “Complaining for NO Reason” and an “Observation” has always been something one does when they try to assess whether or not they have sufficiently blown their nose, by examining a kleenex or kerchief or if it’s going to take another swipe of T.P. after the “Thunder Down Under” (a reference to “commencing with the poo”).
 More often than not, there IS a point to my shenanigans. . . There is a REASON I think you need to “SEE what I SEE”. . . Maybe in time, you guys will finally “GET IT”. . . I’ll keep “Coughin’ Up the Good Stuff”. . . AND. . . I’ll add to my “LIST”. . . But every once in a while, I need to “Take Care of Some Business”. . . 


Thanks for reading. . .

‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!

Peace Out – Later

D A N  

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The Fly By Knights – I’ve got it “ROUGH”

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on May 8, 2010 by danof89

Hey Guys. . . I’ve been busy over the past couple of weeks. I’ve been trying to get the New Site up and running. However, I wanted to take this opportunity to share a “rough” of the first few chapters of the Children’s Book (and Hopefully FILM) I have been working on, of late. . . I understand that this is a departure from what most of you have grown accustomed to with my usually “Snarky Bits”. . . But, I just wanted to get it out there. . . To be HONEST, I have been getting jerked around by a “Publishing Company” (I SO needed an agent) for the last couple months and thought rather than GIVE them my idea, I figured, I’d share it with you. Feel free to share any comments or critiques. . . If this ends up meaning I don’t get the idea published – at least someone saw it. . . Let me know if you think I need to keep going with this thing (at the very least – take the unscientific poll in the right sidebar – the results aren’t going to make much of a difference, but it will be “fun”). . . I will be back after Mother’s Day with a Brand New and relatively amusing “Bit”. . .

‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!. . .

Peace Out – Later

D A N

The Fly-By Knights – Story and Illustrations by Dan L Freeburg 

THE “GIST” OF IT. . .

“The Fly-By Knights” There’s a small orange orchard nestled in a far-off corner of Northwest Florida. The farm is inhabited by a rag-tag motley collection of birds. These classic-underachievers all aspire to bigger and better things. They are sub-contracted by a parcel delivery service, headed by a stern and underhanded Eagle,named “Sal”, and his 2 “Crow-nies” (crows – “Ace and Deuce”). Our beleaguered bunch use the orchard’s converted crop duster (at night) to make deliveries. Short local runs around the Southeast. Sal decides to “downsize” and pulls their contract, calling them a “fly-by night” operation and leaving them jobless. Because of the competition from bigger companies all seems lost for our friends. Delivery comes to a halt and their base of operations (the orchard’s hangar) is stripped (by Sal and the crows) of all packages, SAVE ONE. Left behind, among the old orange crates, is found a package marked “TOP SECRET”. Its address. . .the White House. Thinking this their last chance to save their business, our crew decides to make the special delivery themselves. They must fly their broken down plane,against the odds. A rough Everglades, an impending Hurricane, a meddling former-boss Sal, who puts them in further peril when he notifies the military and the President of an “unauthorized” plane heading for Washington. Not wanting to look like he dropped the ball, by non-delivery, Sal makes it look like the crop duster has less than good intentions. The military scrambles to send fighters to intercept the plane. The nation is put on “lock down”. Unbeknownst to anyone involved up until now, there are other problems beginning to take shape. In the waters off the east coast of the United States. A small submarine controlled by a Rogue Evil Commander (Abidab Ahdoo) and his crew have been sitting and waiting with plans of his own for our nation’s capitol. He’s also been watching the drama of our heroes playing out via the internet. Thinking this the “perfect” diversion, the Evil Commander decides it would also be his best opportunity to carry out a diabolical attack. The nation watches as our heroes unwittingly become news on every major syndicate. The nation watching spellbound. Because of faulty communication equipment aboard the old, small plane, the pilots mistakes the fighters jettisoned to stop them, as a convoy meant to escort them personally. Just then, the Evil Commander decides to seize this opportunity to begin an attack. . .”Feathers Fly”. Outsmarting everyone,”accidentally” thwarting the Rogue Commander’s plans and with some nifty flying-the Knights make the delivery. The Commander and his crew are captured. Sal is exposed and fired, the country is safe and the President receives the package. . . postmarked for last Christmas.(It’s July). He opens it to find his Grandmother’s Homemade Fruitcake. Oh yeah, so impressed by their bravery, grit and determination, the President names the Knights the new “Ministers of Defense”. . . 

Chapter 1 – The Man and the Moon

A full moon shone through the window as a heavy rain poured outside. . . The man, seated in a large leather swivel chair, sat back and watched the rain patter against the pane. The man’s eyes fixed on the moon as he sat in the stillness of the early morning. Save for the occasional crackles of thunder in the distance, all was quiet. . . too quiet. Occasionally the wind would gust. The branches of a large tree, standing outside the second-story window, would brush against the glass and temporarily cause him to break his stare from the moon. How large, it had seemed to him. How large and distant. He briefly thought back to the days of his youth. How he, as a boy, would stay up for hours with the telescope he’d gotten for his 10th Christmas and look at the moon and the stars. He’d wanted to be an Astronaut. . . a Space Explorer. He chuckled to himself at his boyhood ambitions. When you’re young, you think you can do “anything”. Just then, the phone on the desk he sat next to began to ring. He reached for the receiver, noting the time on the clock sitting next to the phone. . . 2:00 AM. 
“Yes?” he answered. . . “I see. . . thank you for the information General. . . give me a few minutes”.
He hung up the phone and stood to again catch another glimpse of the moon through the window. A large cloud had started to form and moved in front of it, seemingly “stealing away” some of the its light. He sighed. Sometimes, he thought, he’d wished he had become an Astronaut. A lone silhouette had quietly crept into the doorway of the room, as he watched the moon, now almost completely sheltered from view.
“What are we going to do, Sir?” the silhouette asked, turning on a corner lamp so that he could see her.
The man, turned to her slowly and smiled reassuringly, “I wish I knew”.
“Step up the Alert, Sir?” she asked.
“For now,” he replied, “We’ll go over all of it at the briefing in an hour.”
“And the Press?” 
“They’ll know before we do,” he answered.
“Yes, Sir – I suppose they will. . . Thank you, Mr. President,” the woman said, starting out of the door.
“You ever want to be something else when you grew up, ?” he asked, stopping her momentarily.
“Excuse me Sir?” the woman asked, unsure what he meant.
“When you were a kid, I mean. Was there something you wanted to BE?”

After a moment, the woman replied, “I’m not sure I can answer that, Sir”.
“C’mon Trish, how long have we known each other?” he offered; setting her at ease.
She smiled knowingly, “I wanted to be President. . . Sir.”
“That’s what I thought,” he said teasingly as he slowly eased himself back into his chair and exhaled. “I wanted to be an Astronaut, did you know that?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir – I think you may have mentioned something like that before. I’ll prepare the Press-Room,” she walked to the lamp and turned it back down, “I’ll see you down there.”
The president again sat alone, in the dark, and looked at the clock on his desk. . . 2:15 AM. . . “Too early for this sort of thing,” he thought. It seems that the General who’d interrupted his “lunar musings” a few moments earlier had very good reason to. There had been another “Threat” to the United State’s National Security in the “wee-hours” of the morning. He was “sure” that it was like all the others that had been issued over the past several years. It would be talked about on Television and in the News for a few weeks and then. . . inexplicably, would disappear from the Nation’s consciousness. . . just as quickly as it had arrived. But he knew THAT kind of thinking could be dangerous. Just when everyone thought things were going to be okay, well, that’s when there could be “trouble”. . . for “real”. He reached for the red phone on his desk and pushed a single number and held it to his ear.
“Step up the alert,” he stated to whomever was on the other end. . .
He again moved his chair around to face the window. It sounded like the rain had let up a little bit. The clouds that had covered the moon just moments ago, had dissolved and moved on through the night sky. He could again see the moon. A few stars also joining in to make the sky seem especially bright and clear. His chair made a muffled creaking noise, as he sat back and pondered his boyhood dreams, one last time. How small the moon now seemed. So small and so distant. . . “I should’ve been an Astronaut,” he thought to himself. . .

Chapter 2 – “This is a Tough Room”


The room was bustling and noisy. Several reporters and camera persons had already filed into the Press Room. Having received the call from their “close sources”, well before they received official word from the White House, that the president was expected to deliver a message concerning the nation’s newest “mounting crisis”. A handful of reporters, trusty press passes on lanyards around their necks, waited for the president to make his entrance. The reporters going over the notes, containing questions they hoped they would be able to ask the leader of the country. Camera persons steadying their equipment on tripods, trying to ensure that they would get the best possible angle of the president, when those “tough” questions were asked. Then the announcement:


“Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States”, flashbulbs going off and the low hum of video equipment being turned on, filled the room. Everyone’s attention drew towards the door from which the president entered. He walked in solemnly, and with deliberation, headed directly towards his spot at the podium. He looked quite different than he had, hours earlier sitting in the chair in his office, pondering the night sky and  the promise it had held for him as a boy. Several reporters started barking questions at him, before he even had a chance to settle in. Pausing, only briefly to let out a resigned sigh, he approached the bouquet of microphones before him. . . 


“I received a call earlier this morning from General Sampson overseeing the involvement of our troops abroad”. The room filled with reporters and press people beginning to buzz, like a small swarm of bees. He continued, “It was brought to my attention that a group of soldiers, under the direct supervision of the General, had intercepted a small band of enemy soldiers bound for a remote mining village in the Pugor Province.” (Cameras flashing, the reporters voices starting to grow from whispers to nearly full volume) “It is my understanding that these enemy soldiers were transporting weapons to their allies across the border in a neighboring demilitarized zone. . .”
“These soldiers were captured and taken prisoner with minimal gunfire and have been detained for questioning. However, I think it is important to note that among the belongings recovered by our troops were detailed plans for a large military strike to be carried out against our allies and the people of these United States.”
“While these prisoners are being held, EVERY effort will be made to obtain whatever further information is necessary to ensure that these plots can not be carried out. I believe that whatever information is ascertained by the General’s soldiers will be of great benefit in thwarting the enemies attempts to scare or intimidate us as a Nation.” The room was now at a fever pitch. Reporters clammering over one another, jockeying for position. One that would give them the best opportunity to gain the president’s attention.

“I will take a few questions,” said the president, his eyes scouring the room for a friendly face. 

“Yes, Rusty?” he said, settling for a familiar one instead.
“Thank You Mr. President. With the National Security Threat Level raised again for the 3rd time in 8 months, ‘several’ are questioning your commitment to our country’s well-being. . . How do you respond to that?”
The chatter-turned-barking in the room was now deafening. Reporters practically stumbling over themselves, as if they didn’t get within arm’s reach, they might not hear his answer. 
“Well Rusty, I’d have to ask WHO these ‘several’ folks are?” a little annoyed by the question, “Is it YOU Rusty?” the reporter shrugging it off, “How about YOU, Jillian?” as the female reporter quickly shook her head in embarrassment. “Bill, did you want in on this?” as Bill, obviously did NOT, evidenced by the reporter immediately taking his seat in a folding chair amongst the gaggle of reporters left standing. 
“I’d say by raising the alert level, we are doing our job. I’m positive the General and his troops did theirs. We are letting our nation and the world know that we will not stand down to veiled threats or threats of any kind.” the crowd of reporters quieting a little, but only momentarily. Soon they were begging again to be called on, some yelling the questions and interrupting one another. Never being one to like “rude people”, the president rarely called on these guys. . .


“Yes, Jessie,” he called out to a young reporter he remembered from the campaign trail.
“Thank you, Mr. President,” pleased with himself for being recognized, “Sir, many are asking if we aren’t ‘jumping the gun’, that is to say,  There have been no incidents in nearly 10 years. Aren’t we just playing the ‘Boy Who Cried Wolf’?” 
“Jessie,” quickly re-categorizing this reporter into the “rude people” column,”I must not be a privy to ‘you fella’s’ information. In fact, I think that’s the first of anything like that I’ve heard. What was that you said about a ‘Gun’?” the reporter taking his seat next to Bill as the president pressed on, “We don’t ‘Play’ in this White House. . . unless it is with my children,” the room laughing nervously, “There is no ‘Playing’ in this administration when it comes to National Security. . . But there IS a Wolf. . . and we are doing our best to safeguard the nation.”

“So does that make us a Chicken Coop?” blurted Jillian, (Of Rusty, Jillian and Bill fame) and immediately upon asking, began to take her seat next to the rest.
“Woah there! Jillian,” said the president, “Don’t sit down so quickly. You were just getting interesting. What did you mean by that?”
She reluctantly rose from her seat next to her bested colleagues, “Sir, I just meant that because of the recent reductions in defense spending and declining numbers of those enlisting in the Armed Forces. . . Well sir, some think we don’t CARE anymore. That maybe we have forgotten what it is we are scared OF. I just ask – if the threat is still REAL. . . then who’s out there protecting us?”

Pausing for a moment, to take the question in, the president replied, “That’s a good question, Jill. . . But, let me assure you that we take EVERY threat as a REAL threat and let me go on to ensure our great nation and the World, that we have OUR VERY BEST on the job. . . “


Chapter 3 – The Chicken Coop 


The bright early morning sunrise rose to greet the crystal blue summer sky. A few white wispy clouds drifting lazily on the horizon. The sounds of crickets chirping in unison, then fading, then chirping again. It was warm, but not too warm. A light breeze blew through the trees of a small orange grove. Beside the grove stood an old barn, at least it looked like a barn – save the large over-sized air sock perched atop its facade. Painted in large, red letters above the door was a sign. It read: “Lendell Fester Farms”. Below it, in much smaller letters was an addition in a different shade of red and not quite as neatly scribed, that said: ” . . . & Knight’s Airborne Delivery Service. A low hum, echoed in the background then began to grow louder. . . and closer. . . An old dilapidated water tower barely stood next to the barn now turned “hangar”. On the narrow walkway someone stood, looking to the horizon with a pair of binoculars. Trying to spot where the noise was coming from. Suddenly she caught the plane in her sights. Then she noticed something, no “someone” hanging from the bottom. “THUMP. . . thu. . . thu. . . THUMP!” Two Big Orange Webbed-feet struck the tops of the orange trees, dangling just inches from the treetops. 


“Dag Nab it!” THUMP. . . thu. . .thu. . . THUMP! “OUCH!” A small biplane skimmed the tops of the trees over the orchard, carrying underneath its landing gear, a reluctant passenger. An ANGRY, reluctant passenger who desperately wanted to be anywhere else at that precise moment in time. “Put it DOWN!” cried the terrified (for a platypus) platypus hanging from the plane’s underside. “Larry! Put it down NOW!” The pilot of the aircraft, a unphased (for a pigeon) pigeon, seemed oblivious to his passenger’s plight, unaware of his friend’s screams. . . or perhaps unsympathetic to his dilemma. “These instruments are all wrong,” the pilot said to himself, in an accent reminiscent of an English stage actor (a BAD one), “If I weren’t so humble, I might find another flying organization to align myself with. One more deserving of my expertise”. 
“Larry! Put the plane DOWN,” the voice from the pilot’s headset sternly instructed.
“No, need to get snippy Gail,” he said to the girl on the water tower, “I can handle this one. I just zigged, when I should have zagged. No problems here.”
The plane began to sputter and stall, drifting wildly from right to left. The wings of the biplane rocked up and down. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, the plane rocketed upward, jerking the pilot back in his seat as he found himself staring straight into the heavens. The plane blasting straight into the sky – as if it had been shot out of a cannon. The Platy-passenger beginning to lose his grip as gravity and the speed of the plane, began to work against him. 
“Oh, dear,” mused Larry, “This is new!” trying to regain his bearings, without letting on that he was.
“Level it out!”, he heard from his headset. He eased up on the wheel and he gained a little bit more control. He started to circle and descend, preparing to land. 
“Woah, woah, woah!” he heard from under the plane, “What do you think you’re DOING?”
 He tried to look under the plane, but only saw a pair of big orange feet. However, towards the earth below, he could see a few “dots” scurrying about on the ground. He assumed his friends in preparation for a “triumphant landing”. 
“Righty then,” he proclaimed, taking a moment to choke down a much needed swallow, “I’d say it’s about time to put this bird down.”
“Ya’ THINK?”, he heard the voice from under the plane, frantically and sarcastically ask.

“Not YOU,” yelled Larry, “I wouldn’t put YOU down, dear boy!”

“I’m. . . NOT. . . a. . . BIRD!” managed the platypus, holding on for dear life.
“Apples and Oranges,” replied Larry, “ORANGES? . . . Get It?” . . . the platypus tightened his grip on the landing gear. He wanted to make it through this disaster alive, so he could KILL him.
Below them, the “ground crew” prepared for an Emergency Landing. Gail, a golden and “well-kept” (for a chicken) chicken, had now joined the rest of the group from her “Bird’s Eye” view at the “Control Tower” – a beaten up water tower, near the hangar. Karl, a hungry (for a buzzard) buzzard and Dwight, a plucky (for a duck) duck also stood below, looking around for anything that might help their buddies get out of this mess.
“Is there anything we should DO?”, asked Gail.
Looking around, Dwight spotted a tractor and some hay in a horse pen nearest the hangar. “I’ve got an idea,” he said, “When I give the word, Just tell him to buzz the hangar.”
“WHAT?”, cried Gail and Karl together.
“Just do it!” He said, “I saw this on Most Amazing Videos and Plane Crashes once”. Then Dwight scurried (as ducks don’t run) over to the tractor, hopped on the driver’s seat and started it up. The engine roared to life as he quickly began moving the hay around into a large pile.
Karl, slowly began to creep away from Gail towards the hangar. “Where do you think YOU’RE going Karl?” Trying to hide a knife and fork he was holding behind his back, he coyly looked at her, “You know they’re my friends, right?”
“Yes, Karl,” she replied, not wanting to really know where this was going, “Where did you GET those?”
“And sometimes, accidents happen, right?”, he ignored her, “Like, sometimes those in trouble don’t always ‘Make It’?”, he asked, taking out a kerchief and tying it around his neck as a makeshift bib.
“KARL!” she screamed disgustedly, “You need HELP!”
“Okay, Okay,” said Karl, “Mom, just always said to be prepared for an emergency.”
“That’s NOT what she meant, Karl,” Gail snapped, looking at him with the shame reserved for his “disgusting moments”.
“I’m a Buzzard, Gail, ya’ know? Emmerrrrggencccies?”, now tucking away his dining utensils.
“Then wear clean underwear Karl,” said Gail sharply, “. . . and your mom was a vegetarian!”
“Rest her soul,” said Karl. Gail shooting him a suspicious glance, as he looked to the plane in the sky. 
“What?”, she asked.
“Oh, nothin’ “, said Karl, “Hey. . . I think they’ll be okay”, pointing to the distressed plane as it circled above, trying to rid himself of Gail’s “evil eye”. 


From inside the hangar, a clanging noise sounded. Like someone was knocking together pots and pans. Karl, hearing this started towards the sound with curiosity and more than his fair share of hunger pangs. “Where are you going NOW?”, Gail called after him. “I’m just wonderin’ who’s rustlin’ up some grub!”, he replied, as he headed towards the noise. Through with his nonsense, Gail directed her attention towards her friends in the sky. “Are you ready!”, she hollered over to Dwight, who was finishing moving the hay into place. “Almost!” he yelled, “Tell Larry to go ahead and buzz the hangar! But NOT to hit it! When he gets to it, tell Shredder to JUMP!” Gail looked at Dwight incredulously, “Are you SERIOUS?!”, she asked. “Just tell Shredder to aim for the haystack!” Dwight had seen Karl running into the barn and wondered what “else” was going on. The banging and clanging stopped, a pig suddenly squealed and ran from the barn, looking back over its shoulder in anger. Bouncing out from the hangar’s large door (not so much bouncing, as bumbling and stumbling) nearly knocking over Karl, came a bright pink (for a flamingo) flamingo carrying a LARGE bucket filled with water. He loped clumsily towards Dwight spilling most of the water along the way and yelling, “I got an idea boss!” 
“You gonna’ put out the fire?” Karl asked, following behind him.
“Nah,” he answered, “Shredder can JUMP into this!”
“Oh, Brother,” responded Dwight, “Never mind that! Get over here and give me a hand!”
Gail, figuring this was as good a time as any, spoke into her headset, “Okay, Larry! Dwight says you need to buzz the hangar. Get as close as you can to the horse pen. . . and LOW! When you’re comin’ up on it, tell Shredder to jump!”
“Larry!. . . Larry, can you hear me?” she asked, worried that there was something wrong with their equipment, “Larry?!”
“Ha, ha, ha,” she heard him bellow through her earphone, “THAT’S your PLAN?”
“Larry, just DO IT”, she scolded, “Dwight says he’s seen this done before. It’ll work!”
Suddenly, the plane began to sputter again. Larry glanced down at the instrument panel and noticed something he hadn’t before. . . the fuel gauge. . . and it read EMPTY. “Gail, my pet?”, he said looking over the side of the plane, making sure he could still see the big orange feet, “I hope he saw this WORK! . . . I’m coming in!” Black exhaust began to chug from both engines as the plane began to stall and shift violently from its holding pattern. “What’s going on up there?” yelped Shredder, swaying back and forth. “Nothing to worry about, I assure you. . . are you SURE you’re not a BIRD?” Larry asked. Lining the plane up with the hangar, Larry began a descent. A little faster and less steady than he might have liked. “WHAT?”, cried Shredder, noticing their altered flight path and his friends, scrambling around in the rapidly approaching distance. “When we get over the haystack, JUMP, my friend!” exclaimed Larry. They were closing the distance. . . fast. The ground below growing closer beneath them and the smoke from the propeller engines now billowing and gasping, the wings rocking back and forth. Larry putting his flight goggles down to shield his eyes, prepared for impact, “Oh, dear!”, he said. As the plane approached, everyone knew it wasn’t going to land gracefully. Scattering to the side,to avoid being landed on, Dwight jumped over the pen’s fence. Karl followed suit. Leaving the flamingo standing directly in the path of the oncoming plane. . . frozen in place. Gail watched from a safe distance, as the plane swooped from the sky, heading straight for her friend. . . and his bucket. “DUCK!” she yelled to the bird, “DUCK PACO! DUCK!” The flamingo didn’t move, holding his bucket firmly as the plane made a beeline for the hangar. 500 feet . . . dropping. . . 400 feet . . . falling . . . 300, 200. . . Larry, still trying his best to guide the plane, now decided it was best if he closed his eyes. Below him, Shredder saw the haystack now coming on fast and decided to close his eyes too. Paco, stood his ground and felt the air from those big orange feet whiz by his head and over the pen. Shredder yelling, “AAAAHHHHH!” Larry, bracing himself. . . and . . . .”BAM!”


Smoke and dust filled the air. Feathers from the many chicken cages lining the walls inside the hangar filled the sky. Dwight, Gail and Karl all picked themselves up from the ground where they had taken cover. They all looked towards the hangar. At first unable to see anything for the dirt and smoke. Then it began to settle. They all looked at each other and were afraid to look back at the barn, for fear of what they might see. Then they heard something. “Very Nice!”, they heard, now able to make out the tail of the plane sticking out from a very large hole in the side of the hangar. It was Larry. “Very Nice indeed! Wow! That was TERRIFIC!”, they heard him coughing. Then they saw him emerge from the door to the hangar, brushing himself off as he walked towards them. “Did you SEE that? I nearly missed the building altogether”, shaking his head in feigned disbelief, “If ‘I’ hadn’t done it myself, I’d say that was nothing short of Brilliant!” 
“Where’s Shredder?”, asked Dwight abruptly shrugging off his cocky friend, “Is he okay?”
“Shredder?” asked Larry, “Oh yes, I think you may want to locate that one.”
The threesome followed Dwight around the corner and there they saw them, sticking out from a decimated haystack . . Two Big Orange Webbed-feet. . . moving. Slowly sitting up spitting bits of hay from his bill, Shredder cleared his throat. He was intact. . . intact and UPSET. He dusted himself off and slowly got to his webbed-feet. He was battered and sore; and whispering angrily underneath his breath. Looking at Larry, he said, “JUMP? Are you MENTAL?” 
“It was Dwight’s idea, my dear boy. If you should blame anyone for your misfortune it should be your pint-sized cousin.”
“Zip it Larry! We’re NOT related!”, said Dwight elbowing past Karl towards the pigeon.
“I’m. . .NOT a BIRD!”, said Shredder standing at Dwight’s side.
“Well, I think that goes without saying after THAT performance,” Larry replied.
“Why, I oughta’. . . You nearly KILLED me!” said Shredder trying to push through Dwight’s minimal arm restraint.
“And it seems as if you NEARLY repaired the intake manifold. Good thing you finished the landing gear”.
“Finished it?. . . I was working on it when you TOOK OFF!” 
“Guys, guys! Knock it off, I think there something wrong with Paco,” said Gail motioning to their flamingo companion.
There, standing in the center of the horse pen, bucket in hand, was Paco. . . staring at them vacantly, mumbling to himself. . . “I got a bucket,” said Paco, “. . . I got a bucket”. 
Gail, concerned for her friend, walked over and waved her hands before his glazed-over eyes. “Paco, are you okay darlin’? . . . Paco?”
They joined her in front of the flamingo and took turns trying to get his attention. Nothing seemed to work. 
He just kept staring straight ahead, visibly shaken by his “close call” saying, “I got a bucket. . I got a bucket. . . “
After a couple of minutes of this Dwight, grew visibly frustrated and grabbed the bucket of water from his hands, hoisted it above his taller friend and turned it over, drenching the flamingo. Paco, shaken free from his trance-like state, looked at his friend.
“Are we good here?”, inquired Dwight.
The newly-alert and very wet Paco shook his feathered brow. Snapping out of it, he answered, “Oh. . . Hey Dwight!. . . You got a bucket. . . did it WORK?”
“Worked great, buddy,” Dwight lied. 
Then the bunch, having just narrowly escaped disaster, turned together to survey the damage.
“If you folks will excuse me,” said Larry, “I think there’s somewhere ELSE I need to be. . . Oh yes! Now I remember!. . .May I borrow someone’s cellular phone?”
“Zip it Larry!”, said Dwight, “. . .We’ve got some cleanin’ to do”.
“Are you SURE, you two aren’t related?”, Larry said, motioning towards Shredder. . .


Chapter 4 – The Hammer Falls


It was late in the afternoon. The team had spent most of the day using the tractor to carefully pull down the side of the barn and extract the plane from the large hole it created when Larry “landed it”. It wasn’t easy. The front end of the plane had seen a lot of damage. But when they finally got the plane out, Shredder (the mechanic of the bunch) was shocked at how few repairs it would take to get the “bird” up and flying again. The plane itself was a mess, beaten up and old. But as far as he was concerned, it was “Air Force One”. He’d spent a lot of time keeping that old plane running. After all, they had a job to do. . . 
“How’s the plane look, pal?”, asked Dwight walking up to Shredder who was tinkering with a propeller.
“Just a couple rolls of duct tape and a couple spot welds oughta’ do it,” he replied, turning a wrench in one of the prop engines compartments.
“And you?. . . How you doin’?”, asked Dwight, noticing Shredder’s tattered and dirty overalls.
“I’m cool Cuz,” he replied, “It’s all good, but you REALLY need to talk to Larry. He’s gonna’ kill one of us one of these days. . . or himself.”
They looked at each other and shrugged, laughing.
“I KNEW it,” Larry chuckled, as he strode towards them confident and beaming, “You two ARE cousins!”

They turned towards him, looked at each other. Dwight rolled his eyes and spoke, “Larry. . . give it a rest.”

“Right then,” he said, “No matter. I thought I felt my ears burning. Were you chaps getting my flight plan ready for this evening?”

“YOUR flight plan?”, Dwight yelped, “That’s rich! It’s MY turn in the rotation Larry. . .MY night to fly. . . and you don’t even HAVE ears”

“Yeah,” Shredder added, “and if it wasn’t for me,” turning back to his work, “well. . . you’re lucky to be flyin’ anything oughta’ here tonight”.
Larry continued on as if they hadn’t said anything of any importance, “Someone needs to get Gail in here. As I recall, I was given a ‘short run’ last night. I hardly call that a mission!. . . and I HAVE ears, you just can’t SEE them”

“Mission?”, Dwight scoffed, “We’re a Delivery Service Larry! …And your ‘short run’ practically took all night! You got lost… again!”
“Lost?”, challenged Larry, “I assure you, I followed the flight plan I was given by your girlfriend, to a tee!”

“She’s not my. . . ” 
“What’s going on guys?”, Gail said strolling up and surprising them, “Are you at it again?”

“Speak of the temptress,” cooed Larry, “I was just informing these boys that the flight plan you furnished me with last evening was impeccably conceived.”

“It’s NOT a flight plan Larry,” corrected Dwight, “It’s a ‘list of addresses‘ “. You drop the packages at the addresses. Then you LEAVE.”
“You make it sound so demeaning lad,” Larry countered, “Parcel delivery is a time-sensitive operation!”
“And you got LOST. . . again! Who ever heard of a “homing pigeon” with NO sense of direction?” asked Dwight, not so much asking as declaring.
“Boys, please!”, Gail crossed her arms, having heard enough, “Is the plane ready Shredder?”
“I could use a hammer,” he replied looking back at the plane.
“A hammer?”, she asked?
“Yeah, I need to knock some sense into these two!”, he said shaking his head.

Dwight looked at Larry, “It’s MY night,” he whispered.

“Mine.” countered Larry.
Gail looked at the two and shook her head. She looked towards Shredder and smiled, “Let’s find you a hammer.” . . . 


(To Be Continued?. . .)




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Thinking on My Feet, Without Stepping on Your Toes

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on April 25, 2010 by danof89

In a Sea filled with IDIOTS, I am an island alone. . . Where everyone gets stranded. . . trying to figure out how to drink their own pee. . .  
~danof89
In my estimation we have become a society of “Hypocritical Wussies”. . . or is it “Hyper-Critical Windbags”? At this point, I am not really feeling too awfully bad about where I “fit” in all of this. Let me tell you why . . . and isn’t that what we’re all here for? (I know I can’t wait to see where I’m going with this) I’d just like to know how a society that, from outward appearances, seems to be so calloused – can have such a “thin skin”? EVERYONE is a “Victim”. We ALL seem to be bitching and complaining about SOMETHING. . . But “Heaven Forbid” someone bitches or complains about “YOU”. . . “Our Society” doesn’t have a whole lot of “room to talk”.
We are a SOCIETY of IDIOTS. . .
For someone who writes these little “bits”, voicing more than its OWN fair share of complaints, it may seem as if I, myself, have little “room to talk”. (That is why I “write”- I need far less room and am quite a bit less demonstrative) But I “notice” things some of you don’t. Or maybe you DO notice them, but have a hard time verbalizing your disgust. Or maybe you CAN verbalize it, but you get pigeon-holed into a “category” as a “trouble-maker”, “busy-body” or just someone who likes to hear themselves “TALK”. . . You see, “I” can live with that. . . Though, I don’t like the sound of my voice. I sound a lot like Ben Stein and
“Urkel” had a kid. . . with a deviated septum. . .
As a humorist (one who “notices humorous things”, notes them, then relays that information to others, so that they can laugh so hard that they could quite possibly blow a “snot bubble”; thus enhancing the “humor enjoyment” for those not necessarily targeted with the initial “Humor Offensive” – unless they found themselves sitting within “snot shot” and suffered “collateral moisture”)
“HUMOR OFFENSIVE” ~ as defined in the Danof89 Dictionary of Verbal Sock-Puppetry:
 ~ When laughter is derived from an unsuspecting “victim” through coercion, tactical deception or an occasional “fart joke”. Not to be confused with OFFENSIVE HUMOR.
The word OFFENSIVE, on its own means, to be “Disagreeable to the Senses” and THAT, my friends (and people I don’t know) is what is at the heart of this week’s offering. (For the record, A humorist, is what I am calling myself this week. It is subject to change at any time without warning. In fact, I think for the remainder of the bit, I want to be known as ‘Olof’. . .thank you) I sometimes like to “key in” on things that I think are “Social Deficiencies”. Areas that WE (meaning YOU) really need to “work on” before we (again, you) should even consider “Holding Hands” with OTHER SOCIETIES. Let alone ask to take one of them to the “Spring Formal”

If our society even attempted to “pin a corsage” on say, “SWEDEN”, Sweden’s dad would probably step in and say,
“Let’s save a little something for the Wedding Night, Okay there, Sporto?”
. . . Only he would say it in Swedish. . . Now that I think about it, Sweden’s dad probably wouldn’t say that at all. . . Sweden’s dad probably would’ve “weeded us out”, in the “courtin’ process”, while showing us its extensive “gun collection” or asking us to come over on a Saturday afternoon and help rebuild a VOLVO engine in their driveway. . .


“So what are your intentions for my girl?”, Sweden’s father would say, cleaning a rifle while making you hold the end of the barrel to your forehead. . .
OR
“I notice you and my baby have been seeing quite a bit of each other lately. . . Are you planning on getting a ‘real job’ anytime soon?”, wiping the engine grease from his hands with an old ABBA t-shirt, “. . . Can you hand me a 3/8’s drive and another quart of Quaker State?”


If my analogy of ‘Our Society’ as a horny teenager (I guess that’s what that was) has “thrown” you. . . You’re not alone. . . well maybe you are. . . but hopefully you’re not “lonely”. . . But if you’ve read any of my recent stuff, you know that I consider our Society to be in a WHOLE LOT OF TROUBLE. . . just like a horny teenager. . . By the looks of our ENTERTAINMENT choices, whoever is in charge of providing them MUST be a horny teenager. . . Or maybe he used to be. . . and now he’s ‘REGRESSING’
 . . . or “receding”. . . or “BOTH”
But back to the analogy. . .
For starters, anyone that knows SWEDEN (or her dad) knows that they are a peace-loving society. The chances of Sweden’s dad actually having a gun collection are pretty remote.
Secondly, If you know SWEDEN like “I” do (I don’t), you KNOW that ABBA is sacred there. If someone were to desecrate or “besmudge” a garment depicting the band’s name, image, or logo – they would be convicted of “Sacrilege” (a chargeable offense) and receive SWEDEN’S harshest punishment. . . They would be exiled. . . to either Holland. . . or Branson, Missouri. . .
But what am I really getting at?. . . What is at the crux of this week’s “effort”? What is at the heart of. . .
Wow. . . my train of thought got “derailed” somewhere around “snot bubbles”. . .
Oh, yeah!. . . People are way too uptight. . . or ARE they?. . . ooooohh
(nope . . . not even close to “deep”)
I don’t know. . . It just seems to me that there seems to be a major “Catch-22” going on in our world. . .

  1. We are a world that is easily offended. . . 
  2. Every conceivable form of “Entertainment” or “Mass Media” known to man is. . . offensive (to somebody)
  3. . . . “Some People” can’t take a joke

There is a monumental difference between “Crackin’ Wise” and being OFFENSIVE. . . 
There was a “situation” that occurred this past week, that illustrates my point perfectly. I just wanted to mention it briefly, then move on. . .
Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the creators of “South Park” torked off a “GROUP of People”
 . . . by releasing an episode of their “cartoon” depicting a “Person of Religious Significance”(to “some people”) in a somewhat “unflattering way”. So angered by this “direct threat” to everything that they believed in, “THE GROUP” posted their (Parker and Stone’s) home addresses, work schedules, dates of birth, Social Security Numbers and a phone number they could be reached at after 8PM (NOT on the ‘opt-out’ list). Then “THE GROUP” said, they did NOTHING to incite violence or try to manufacture a “repeat” of what happened to “Vincent Van Gogh” in 2004. First of all, I thought Van Gogh went crazy and cut his ear off a LONG time ago. I didn’t realize that “THE GROUP” had any involvement in his untimely death. . . whatever people. . . GET A GRIP. . . all they “didn’t” do was give them ammo and the use of their own personal “suicide bomber” battalion.
. . .Trey and Matt, have LONG been offending people of EVERY religion. I personally have a “few issues” with their views. . . Do I want them dead because of it?. . . Nope. (I’d actually like to meet them sometime) Some may say I can’t be on “both sides of the fence” on an issue. SURE I CAN! That’s what makes this nation GREAT (if not, slightly confused) That doesn’t make me indecisive or “wishy-washy” – It makes me “well rounded”. The only PROBLEM I see is that sometimes there is a difference between being OFFENSIVE with the intent of “getting a laugh” and being OFFENSIVE for the sake of being “offensive”. After the “shock value” has worn off, you run the risk of becoming “irrelevant” asking yourself, “Was that even funny”? (not that I would know) I have always subscribed to the theory that you can (and should) be “funny and irreverent”. . . but NOT IRRELEVANT. . . I thought the episode was funny (minus the Jesus part) but not their best. . . so MOVE ON. . .
. . . DON’T “threaten”. . . Better yet, don’t perpetuate a negative stereotype by divulging that “something bad might happen”. (I guess that’s still a threat, but when they did it, it was EXTRA creepy) As an aspiring illustrator and author of children’s books and potential screenplays for FULL-LENGTH ANIMATED FEATURE FILMS (see “Stay Tuned” in the sidebar – I am shameless) I am only offended by Matt and Trey reaching a “Children’s Audience” with “Adult Material”. As “Stand Alone Comedy”, I have found “South Park” to be pretty entertaining (some of the time). As a “human being”, I take issue with “A GROUP” deciding they want someone DEAD, because they “Don’t Get It”. . . Lighten UP!. . . or figure out how to work your remote. . .
But any way you “cut it”, I wouldn’t want to “Die” to get a laugh. . . Luckily, I don’t have to. . .
BUT WHY?. . .
Well, I don’t get “PAID for this” for ONE THING. . . (If you mean why don’t I have to “DIE”, well you’ll have to wait, just like everyone else)
PLUS, I always try to “cover my a**” by ensuring that when I say something that might be “potentially offensive” I offer a brief “DISCLAIMER”. . . you’ve seen them
The fact I have to do this is insulting to me. . . Where is MY “Apology-Ahead-of-Time”?
. . . The simple fact is I used SWEDEN
 at the top of this for my example, because. . . they are SWEDISH there. . . (what are they going to DO?) Do they even have an ARMY? . . . If so, do you honestly think they would mobilize all 15 of the soldiers to “snuff me out” for making fun of them? Maybe they would. I’m not up on their “foreign policy. But I AM “half-Swedish”. I bet they can “take a joke”. So who does that leave. . . How about the population of Branson, Missouri? Well let’s assume they can read. . . Therein lies the “rub”. . .
By and large (but mainly “by”, ‘cuz Branson ain’t very large) they could have easily become offended by  me stating that being “exiled” there would be a horrible fate. (it would) They are “corn-fed”
TRUE-BLUE AMERICANS!
  Which means they are also easily provoked and agitated and more than “one” of them probably has access to a small “arsenal of weapons”. They could easily book a plane to California (with slowly read and detailed instruction, of course) and “track me down”; emptying the contents of his (or her – but probably his) legally registered and concealed weapon into my head. . . quickly emptying its contents. . .
OR. . .
They could unleash “The Osmonds” on me. . . thereby “sealing my fate” in a similar fashion to that of my heroes in the climactic conclusion to 1985’s “Ghostbusters” (the copyright laws are still pretty strict – You’ve seen it)
. . . If I was told to “choose my own fate” and tried to think of the most harmless, benign and utterly “useless” group of people with which to “Bring the Pain”. . . I more than likely would inadvertently have a “Brain Fart”, just like Dan Akroyd’s character “Ray”. But instead of unleashing the “Hounds of Hell”, by way of the “Stay Puft Marshmallow Man”, I would accidentally pick. . . “The Osmonds”. More specifically, “The Love Puppy and Soldier of Love”. . . Donny Osmond(you’ve GOT to watch this video)
. . . and Branson. . . NO, People that GO to Branson LOVE that family. . . but enough is enough already. . . Branson needs to be held accountable. They are facilitating devastating and socially-retarding “Pay in Advance Events”. . . in MASS numbers. . . The Osmonds owe a few “Apologies-Ahead-of-Time”. . .
Quick question. . . When did we become a SOCIETY that needed this much “Breaking News” on the Osmonds? When did our “Entertainment News Providers” ordain them “American Royalty”? Did somebody have a “meeting” to decide this?. . .


“Well, most of the Kennedy’s are pretty much DEAD. . . What do you guys think of the Osmonds?”


The Osmonds, The NEW CAMELOT. . . nice.  . . I’d much rather get “Breaking News” on Ken Osmond(I bet he’d STILL “pitch” a Toyota)
 or. . .
Haley Joel Osment(not an Osmond at ALL – even better)

. . . So what have we learned today class?. . .
I think you have a better understanding of my frustration with SOCIETY, when I have to hold their hands and explain, “Okay, this is going to be a joke now. . . do you need your ‘blankie’?”. . .
BUT. . .
Our SOCIETY seem to gobble up stuff that “Insults our Intelligence”(provided you’re working with any to begin with) (isn’t that Stephanopoulos?)
and “Disagrees with our Sensibilities”. . . Okay? Do you agree?. . . Good. . . Now MOVE ON. . .
I can’t speak for others (but would often LOVE to), but maybe I add my “DISCLAIMER” or “Apology-Ahead-of-Time”, because I still have a “conscience”. Or maybe I just don’t want to “catch hell” from EVERY single person I “trash” (I mean satire) Maybe you don’t get offended easily. Maybe you get offended by some of the things I write. . . But, if I were to be perfectly honest, (instead of just perfect) I’d say I’m tired of apologizing for things that don’t warrant an apology. . .
. . . Because a Joke is a JOKE. . . We could ALL use a good “snot-bubble”. . .


‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!


Peace Out – Later


“O L O F”

a P.S. to SWEDEN (and her dad) . . . I am also half-French – but that was no good. . . The joke was too easy. Everyone KNOWS the French are arrogant, smelly and hairy. . . and that’s just the WOMEN. . . Don’t even get me started on the English. . .

a P.S. to Holland (or whatever you call it now) The Van Gogh guy killed in 2004 was Dutch. . . apparently NOT a good place to be from while making fun of ANYBODY

a P.S. to the “People of Branson, Missouri” . . . Hannibal is much prettier

a P.S. to “The Osmonds” . . . you ALL really annoy me. . . Shame on “Lara Spencer”
 . . . shame on you, Donny

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Petco is “Where the PETS GO”?. . . Have You SEEN My Carpet?

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on April 18, 2010 by danof89



. . . I have never been part of any “Get Rich Quick Scheme”. In fact, I was recently informed I have (unwittingly) been part of aStay Poor for an Indefinite Period of Time Ruse. So what have I done to remedy the situation? Well, I’ve been WORKING. . . in between “Delusions of Grandeur” . . . Trying to pay the bills, keep the kids fed, the pets spay or neutered. . . you know. . . living the DREAM.
 . . . I mention the PETS, because we seem to be amassing a small petting zoo (unbeknownst to my landlord) Oh, we’ve had more animals in our “custody” in the past. But my kids seem to think that we are the “Dr. Doolittle Clan” when it comes to animals. And They LOVE “NEW” animals. . . for precisely 1 week. After pestering my wife and I incessantly for the better part of “as long as I can remember”, with promises of caring for the pets, nurturing them, grooming them, picking up the occasional “Wedge-Whoppers, Sidewalk Sausages or Chocolate Blossoms” in our yard – we ALWAYS cave in. . . We purchase an animal (from wherever we can get them at bargain basement prices – cardboard boxes outside of grocery stores seem to always have a nice selection). My kids typically do pretty well for about a week, as far as feeding them and DESTROYING our bathroom in their futile attempts at bathing the critters. As far as “picking up their crap”? . . .We can count on our kids to handle this responsibility approximately (NONE) times.  Because when my kids are asked to perform “Dr. Doolittle Tasks. . . that’s EXACTLY what my kids DO. . . little. So the “honeymoon” is generally, short-lived.

I guess the relationship between our children and our pets, is A LOT like that between the “General Public” and the members of “Menudo” during the 80’s. By that, I mean just like the members of Menudo (when they reached a certain age and were deemed “uncute” or “weird looking”) they were cast aside and replaced by a younger, smaller and cuter Mexican child. So goes the life of a household pet in our. . . household. For example. . . you may be familiar with our chihuahua “MAYA”. (if not, that’s okay. . . you’re not missing much) We rescued her from the animal shelter a couple of years ago. When my wife and I brought her home, my kids were “Overjoyed”. They had never seen such a beautiful creature. My daughters’ plans soon started for regular dog-related “fashion shows” and numerous “dog-walking” excursions. . . none of this occurred. . . Fast forward two years. . . we’ve got a NEW baby chihuahua. We’ve had it for about 2 months now. We have YET to agree on a name. . . the puppy is starting off its life in “our family”, just like the rest of us did. . . very confused.
Maya has now been cast aside as an inferior animal. (though I still regularly offer her words of encouragement – like, “It will all be over soon” and “You had a good run there for a while”)

 Before I continue, I need to point something out to the members of the Latino Community. I am NOT drawing a parallel between people of Hispanic Heritage and animals. . . people can sometimes become hyper-sensitive or infer that I am making such comparisons, when that is NOT my intent. . . I am, instead, comparing “Chihuahuas” to the members of “MENUDO”. Now, if I may be allowed to continue. . .



Therefore, “Maya” has now become the “Ricky Martin” of our “familia”. . . But I doubt it likely that my 6 year old chihuahua will be enjoying the resurgence in her “career” that was enjoyed by Mr. Martin. Only to see her hit “She Bangs”, brutally and savagely attacked and repackaged by ONE – “Mr. William Hung”. . . the only thing Maya has in common with those two, is her obvious lack of any talent.

 . . . No, she will probably spend the rest of her life
“Living La Vida Heart Worm” in my yard. . . Growing old, fat and unwanted. . . actually she is a LOT like Ricky Martin. . . AND William Hung. . .


 As far as the “NEW” dog is concerned; I am growing a little leery of how he is being “broken in”. For starters, when it comes to how he “handles himself” in the house. . . he receives carte blanche. . . Whatever he feels is necessary to do at whatever time he thinks it needs to be done. . . GOES. In that respect, I understand how P Diddy lives. . . or at least his SON (Puffy probably has people picking up his kid’s poop too, but they are probably HAPPY about it) My “nameless” dog can Pee, Poop, Chew, etc. everywhere and anywhere that he wants and, at this point. . . it’s OKAY. Because he’s a BABY. . .

“No, No, he’s a DOG,” I’ll argue (to no one interested in listening to me) only to have my observation quickly dismissed as “DOGIST” (anti-dog)When in reality, I am “DOG CRAPIST” (anti-dog crap)


But the puppy is WISE beyond its puppy years. It likes to play a game. Not a puppy game. . . a deviously cunning game that could have only been thought of by a sly Fox-puppy hybrid. I have come up with a name for the game:

“I Crap Wherever I WANT To. . . LOOK at Me”


The rules are simple:

  1. It “goes” anywhere it wants (i.e. in my shoe)
  2. It lies in wait. . . until I’ve made the “discovery”
  3. It watches as I turn 6 shades of red
  4. It hides behind something (i.e. my wife or one of my daughters)
  5. It smiles at me (it can smile)
  6. It turns its head a quarter of an inch and looks at me as if to say, “You wouldn’t hurt me in front of all of these ‘witnesses’, would you?”
  7. It is lavished attention and love, while I go outside to regather my thoughts and find the garden hose

There are other versions and variations of the game:


“Yeah, I did that. . . What are YOU going to do,TOUGH GUY?”
and
“Hey! You Needed New Furniture Anyway”


After the “puppy” does something to our home, during one of these game-playing “Episodes”, more often than not, one of my girls will “Break the News”.


“Dad! . . . The puppy had an ‘accident’,” they will say, as the puppy starts to creep to “their” side of the room.


Let’s be honest. The puppy didn’t have an “accident”. “I” am convinced this was NO accident. I’m pretty sure that this was very intentional. The puppy also seems to be constantly “Geared Up” for something. It is Uber-Hyper. But WHAT is it so “Geared Up” FOR?. . . Not a whole lot going on at
“our house”.
. That’s also something I’ve noticed to a somewhat “lesser” degree from our older dog Maya. . . but I think “she” might just be “gearing up” to die. . . or escape. . . I think she and the cat are planning something, but I can’t be sure. In fairness, Maya isn’t exactly OLD. If I remember correctly, I think the ratio of “dog years” to “human years” is, like, 7 to one. . . the dog is actually about the same age as “ME”. . . which might explain a lot, now that I think about it.
The other day, while the puppy was inside eating our love seat, I went outside to “get some air”. I noticed that Maya was sitting by one of the numerous gopher holes in our “well-manicured” lawn. 
(I do all of the “groundskeeping” myself) The dog was just sitting there. . . content. . .  staring at a gopher hole. Rather than do anything about the gophers (I’m not allowed to kill them) OR fill the holes, “I” was content to sit in a chair and stare at the dog – sitting in the yard staring at the hole. . . for a VERY long time. . .


“Well, Maya. . . it will be over soon. . . We had a good run. . . “


‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!


Peace Out – Later


D A N

  
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Just Tidying Up a “Bit”. . .

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on April 17, 2010 by danof89


To Whom it STILL Concerns,

Time to take out the TRASH. . . Apparently SOMEONE felt the need to talk trash about me a few days back, by “burying” a comment in a blog I wrote last October. To that person: Congratulations on thinking you know me well enough to talk to me like that. . . Unfortunately you DO NOT. If you  “make light” of the death of my family members or the situation my family and I found ourselves in at that time. . . well, I HOPE that you have made the necessary arrangements with YOURS. . . your loved ones that is.
Regarding the “respect” issue. I don’t have ANY for anyone who writes me anonymously. (I have a good idea who you are) I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for. Though, chances are, you won’t find it here. I am told the doctor says it is okay to go back on your medication.
Thanks for your concern,

D A N

P.S  You  spelled incompetent wrong. . . Have a GREAT DAY

P.S.S. To my REGULAR (less temperamental readers) I welcome comments and will be more than happy to continue to SQUASH them.


   
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Mazel Tov Cocktails and Caveat Dreams

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on April 11, 2010 by danof89

. . . If you have children, I HIGHLY recommend purchasing VIOLENT VIDEO GAMES. . . In fact, I think it is important for your children’s mental well-being to keep a Video Game Library stockpiled with gory, intensely violent and mind-numbingly desensitizing material. . . Hear me out. . . If you DON’T have any children and haven’t yet had the opportunity to become a “Gamer”, I think this might also be the perfect time to take this activity up yourself. If you have friends that own some, ask them if you can “borrow” their kids for a weekend and let them “show you the ropes”. I think, as a society, we could ALL benefit from the ridiculously overt VIRTUAL Blood-letting and Make-Believe Mass-Murdering Mayhem that the Video Game Industry provides. . . WHY? I think a better question is WHY NOT?. . . What is the ALTERNATIVE?. . . ABC FAMILY? Have any of you WATCHED ABC FAMILY?


I covered this topic, briefly, quite some time ago in the memorable entry “The Master of Verbal Sock-Puppetry: A Return to Basics”. http://gofiggr.blogspot.com/2009/07/master-of-verbal-sock-puppetry-return.html  (well “I” remember it) However, nearly a year later, I thought it would be best if I “revisit” this issue. My plan in going back and “rehashing” some old business is “TWOFOLD”. As I’ve explained, I don’t DO “manifold”. (as in many-fold; having many varying characteristics and reasons – NOT “mani-fold”, like a mechanical part that goes on some sort of car or truck or vehicle…I hate mechanical crap) It gets too complicated and I have an intense dislike of Origami (a type of paper artwork, which is “folded many times”) No, I’d much rather reopen some old wounds, rub a little salt in them and see if I can make, whoever still takes me seriously, “REAL GOOD AND BUNCHED UP“. I’d also like to begin starting to make sense. . .  Are you READY?. . . How do I put this “delicately”?. . . Oh, I’ve got it. . .


 We are raising a nation of “Thugs and Whores”. . .


. . . Well, “I’m” not, but somebody is. . . Maybe not YOU… Unless, of course you think you are. In which case. . . you ARE. . . raising one. . . or MORE than one. (Unless, you thought I meant you think that YOU are a Thug and/or a Whore. At this point, if you’re questioning any of this – other than what I MEAN by it – you’re probably just a REALLY “confused” Thug and/or Whore. Possibly raising some of your own)  I’d also like to assure you that this is the part of the “Bit”, when I start making some sense. If you were able to decipher ANY of what I’ve written so far, “Congratulations”. . . and I take it back. . . You’re NOT confused.


Back to ABC “Family” for a moment. There newest “slogan” is “A NEW Kind of Family”. . . I am SO going to look into suing their butts for “false advertising”. . . At the very least, I need to look into the precedent for “REALLY POOR TASTE and UNBELIEVABLY UNSOUND JUDGEMENT”. . . Can I SUE for that? . . . If I CAN, I am going to get PAID, G! I REALLY wanted to show you a new YouTUBE video, sharing an example of “TV Time” with my family. We regularly attempt to watch ABC FAMILY. I wanted to show you in terms of MINUTES (sometimes even seconds) how long we are able to view its programming without having to TURN IT, because of “sensitive material”. The problem I have with them isn’t with their new slogan. . . I’m sure they are probably sincerely TRYING to market to “A NEW Kind of Family”. . . Have I mentioned that I think FAMILIES in today’s day and age are completely. . . SCREWED? Again, not YOURS (unless you think yours IS, in which case it IS. . . etc., etc.) But, as of “right now”, I don’t have the necessary “fundage” to support, clearing the required expenditure involved in purchasing a DVD-R for my camcorder. (I am broke) So instead, I have decided to include what I could find in terms of ABC’s idea of what is suitable for “children” and/or “families”. . . I would argue that point. . . well, just watch. . .
Exhibit A: Beauty and the Briefcase


. . . Hillary Duff? . . . WHORE


Exhibit B: Americas Funniest Videos
Tom Bergeron? THUG


Bob Saget? Unfunny WHORE/THUG/SELL-OUT (You were on “Full House” schmuck!)

{. . . and on a side note, the last time we “tried” to watch this show. Tom introduced a segment called “Look Ma, No Hands”. He jovially introduced the clip featuring two young men, standing behind a piano (the piano between them and the audience) They proceeded to “Drop Trou” and offer the audience the “illusion” that they were playing the piano with their “Kibbles and Bits”. . . Okay. . . on the surface, maybe a funny “sight gag”, but when you are watching it with your 5 year old (whom you were avoiding buying a male puppy for, because he has a penis, and you’d rather not bring it up – “just right then and there”) well, it kind of pisses you off a bit. At least “I” was pissed. . . And for anyone that thinks I need to be explaining what male genitalia is and what it is for, to a five year old? GET A GRIP. . . }


Exhibit C: 10 Things I Hate About You



The CAST: WHORE, THUG, THUG, WHORE. . .


. . . I could go on and on. but if you want to check it out for yourselves. Sit in a room full of kids of varying ages and watch ABC FAMILY sometime. See how long it takes for you to begin to squirm. . . See how long it takes before they start asking questions. . . Even if they aren’t YOUR kids, they will ask. . . Because you’re an ADULT. . . for some reason they TRUST us. . . Unless it is a group of TV Programming Executives. . . then I think you need to keep “Examining Data and Demographics”. . . You’re doing a “bang up job”.


But it’s not just ABC FAMILY. . . They just happen to be the latest in a LONG LINE of “Family-Oriented” Entertainment on my “LIST”. . . I was watching the Nickelodeon Kid’s Choice Awards with my two daughters a couple of weeks ago and Rihanna cam on to do a little song for the kiddies. . . Here. . . take a look, but take a LISTEN too. . .


. . . Rihanna? . . . I’m struggling with this because you got beat up by a THUG. . . But, I’m gonna’ have to go with WHORE. . . NO BUSINESS doing that song in front of a bunch of impressionable young kids. . .


So “Who Am I” to say, what kids should be offered in the way of ENTERTAINMENT nowadays? Well, I’m glad you didn’t really ask, but read along far enough to find out. . .


I’m a POSSIBLE SOLUTION. . .


I don’t need to stoop to VULGARITY to get a laugh. . . Do I SWEAR? Sure I do. . . But only when I can’t think of anything INTELLIGENT to say. I don’t depend on SEX jokes (either overtly OR COVERTLY) to entertain people. I’ve been writing stories for kids. . . since “I” was a kid. Kids today, deserve entertainment that doesn’t try to make them “Grow Up” TOO SOON. . . Why was I a Toy Designer? Why do I try to be a Children’s Book Author? Why do I hope to make the next BIG FULL LENGTH ANIMATED FEATURE FILM? Why do I hope to make kids (and some a select few adults) happy with what I DO? (Aside from this blog – which, for the record, has NEVER been billed as FAMILY-ORIENTED. . .  only FAMILY-FRIENDLY)


. . . Because ADULTS SUCK!. . .
(Except for those that enjoy reading my stuff)


Don’t EVEN act like that isn’t true. . . and with KIDS, we still have a CHANCE! (unless they are teenagers) You should HEAR them on the SCHOOL BUS
 . . . I am not a prude. I am not oblivious to the fact that there is entertainment out there that is geared for adults. I KNOW what WHORES and THUGS are. . . I was a PREACHER’S KID! I’m thinkin’ I probably knew more than a lot of you. But when, you market stuff with Balloons, Unicorns and Rainbows – only to take away the Main Character’s Virginity in the “Second Season”. . . You’ve just missed the whole point of FAMILY ENTERTAINMENT. . . (oh, and you pissed me off in the process)


FAMILY ENTERTAINMENT isn’t supposed to make our “Kids” want to go out and START a family. . . a NEW KIND of Family. . . Unless, of course, I’m wrong. . . and THAT is highly unlikely. . .


I’m showing you a picture of a couple of the characters from one of my “stories” at the top of this. . . Something that I am really “pushing” to have made into a FILM. . . (NO, the “Book” hasn’t been published). . . It’s not even the one that I’ve been working on over the last month and a half. But it’s something I BELIEVE in. I had the MAIN CHARACTER tattooed on my left arm in ’99. (Don’t judge. . . It was being turned into a toy until I left the company and took the idea with me – the TOP pic is from ’99, the BOTTOM pic is how they’ve changed) and it’s something I think a WHOLE LOT OF PEOPLE would enjoy and COULD. . . as a FAMILY. . .
Oh Yeah. . .  I said something about VIOLENT VIDEO GAMES, before I got a little “side-tracked”. I’m not REALLY encouraging you to get your kids involved with them. However, I can’t think of a better way to get your young daughters interested in SELF DEFENSE at an Early Age. I was playing a game with my youngest the other day. She understands the Make-Believe Violence (she isn’t prone to any sort of violent outbursts) We were blowing away some Zombies and she turned to me and said, “DADDY! THROW YOUR MAZEL TOV COCKTAIL!”. . . Yeah, we bought a boy puppy and YEAH, I told her what “IT” was. . . I just didn’t need Tom Bergeron “forcing my hand”. . .


. . . So, Mazel Tov!. . . I’ll be here, hangin’ around until the results are in. . . I’m thinkin’ you could do “worse” than ME for your Entertainment needs. In fact, a LOT of you already ARE. . . If ANYONE knows “SOMEBODY”, you know where you can find me. . .


‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!


Peace Out – Later


D A N


P.S. To my MOM, I apologize for saying THUG and WHORE so much in this “bit”. But, I couldn’t use the words I WANTED to. . . and I said “pissed”, because I “AM”. . . I also said “penis”, because the dog has one. . .

   
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Nothin’ to say. I like this. . . Star Wars. . .funny

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on April 7, 2010 by danof89

 

I guess by saying I LIKE this, I am actually indeed “saying” something. Though, I’m not really saying anything of any importance. Though, I think it is important to watch this. Because, if truth be told, I like me a little bit of Star Wars. This made me laugh. I trust it will do the same to you. . . Unless, of course, you are a mindless dolt. . . or don’t like you some Star Wars. By the way, I think the Lucas-Seth Green / Star Wars Sit-com idea is a complete and total disaster-in-the-making. . . So I guess I said some stuff, after all. . . New Bit Soon. . .I’m working on it. . . But I saw this. . . Now you’ve seen this. . . Later

D A N

P.S. I DO like Robot Chicken Star Wars Parodies & the Family Guy stuff, I just don’t like Lucas having his hands in anything Star Wars-related, of late. . . I am also defending my stance to absolutely NO ONE right now, so I’ll just show myself to the door. . . Yeah, I know where it is. . . BELIEVE ME

Galactic Empire State of Mind

– Watch more Funny Videos at Vodpod.

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A two idiot explodes a sphere.

A Look at Easter. . .Yep, It’s Still There. . .

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on April 3, 2010 by danof89
There was a recent “uproar” from the “Religious Right”, concerning the 3-dimensional rendering done by some artists made from the “Shroud of Turin”. There are a couple things I’d like to address concerning this “Uproar”. For “Christians”, who early on in their history, were routinely “Mauled to Death by Lions” in gladiator arenas. . . well, the “Religious RIGHT”, (who QUITE OFTEN gets it “WRONG”, in my estimation) seems to like to “uproar” more than the Lions that used to dine on their religious predecessors. The problem with the term “Religious RIGHT”, seems pretty obvious to me. Not just to me, but apparently to Millions of People, throughout the world since the beginning of time. People have been killing each other, because they thought that “Their Religion” was RIGHT. . . and what better way to say “God is Love”, than with a “Bunch of Killin’ “? Am I RIGHT?. . . If I’m not, there is no need to get “huffy” about it.

So when another “Religious Holiday” rolls around like “EASTER”. I like to don my “Holier than Thou” attire (complete with fancy headdress) and pronounce to all that will listen. . .
YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF IDIOTS!. . .

God Bless You. . .
To the zealots out there, professing their Religious Views to be THE ONLY TRUE DOGMA. . . I don’t REALLY think I am “Holier than Thou”. No, far from it. . . I am simply BETTER THAN YOU. . . Yes, YOU – Reverends Falwell, Robertson and Horton Heat.
But I digress (more than most), Back to this 3-D image of Jesus. . .
. . . Okay, I consider myself a Christian (I love when people say that, “I” say it, because I AM) But I feel a “tad” uncomfortable when women refer to him as “HOT”. . . In the same way that they refer to Tyler Lautner as “HOT”. BUT, not so uncomfortable that I want these women to be rounded up and exiled as if they made a Muhammad Cartoon. . ..


. . . All I’m saying is we really need to think about our Vacuum Cleaners a little more around the Holidays. . . (really? That isn’t what I was saying?. . . Hmm, could swear I was “getting” to that). Anyway, around Christmas, I shared with you the fact that I was a little “agitated” with the fact that the Holiday had really been turned into a COMMERCIALIZED DAY OF HEATHEN HOOPLA. . .
Well, maybe I didn’t say it exactly like that, but I remember being pissed. . .
I seem to remember a scene from “The BIBLE” (it was a REALLY GOOD movie, kind of LONG though- No wait, that was the book) in which the actor playing Jesus (always Willem Dafoe) cast some tax collectors off of the steps of a synagogue for collecting on a “Sabbath” (a “Sabbath” is a day when NO ONE is supposed to work, except the “wait staff” at wherever you decide to dine that day. . . Oh, and convenience store employees)
So what do we do as a “Society” when one of these “Jesus Days” comes along? I mean WWJD?(What Would Jesus Do? – For those of you who’ve either forgotten or can’t find that old plastic bracelet in your sock drawer) For starters I think he might kick the crap out of the Easter Bunny. (He can get MAD you know. He “Opened Up a Can” on those Tax Collectors) Then I think he might decide that we’ve been spending a little too much time “Spending Money” on STUPID CRAP. . . Like Chocolate Bunnies, Egg-dyeing kits, Easter Baskets, PLASTIC GREEN GRASS, and the like. . .


“Chill,” he would say, “Look at yourselves. . . Doesn’t this all seem a trifle CONTRIVED to you?” (He can go from “FULL-ON IN YOUR FACE” butt-kicker to “SAVIOR” in like, a milli-second. . . yeah, he’s THAT good)


But, NO – God (and in turn, his kid) have decided to let us DO OUR THING on these Holidays. (He doesn’t “Stir the Pot” much – guess we do that well enough on our own)  He lets us mill around down here, doing our best to “Screw Everything Up” (It’s like Ricki & Lucy) and waits. . . For WHAT, I’m not sure. . . So when you decide (Like MY family will, and DOES every year) to do the Commercial Holiday Thing, just stop for a second and remember what it is REALLY supposed to be about. . .


Your Vacuum Cleaner. . . Do you realize that during MOST of these “Jesus Days” we are wreaking havoc on our Vacuums? I mean, I personally have to buy a new one every year. Think about it. . . “Christmas” (by FAR the most “trash generating holiday”) all that wrapping paper, all those little bits of tinsle and tiny pieces of packaging. . . Then there is “New Years” (Not really a “Jesus Day”, unless you want to count the fact the every “New One” is counted after the year of his DEATH) but a REALLY MESSY one. . . Confetti up the ying yang (or all over your floor – depending on where you sit) Party Popper Residue. . . It’s a nightmare. . . Then we have “Easter”. Bits of egg shell, strewn out all over “God Knows Where” (and he DOES) silver chocolate wrappers, and the piece de resistance. . . That Green Plastic Grass. . . it tears up your vacuum belt, gets hung up on the roller and sends your happy ass on the way back to the store for a new vacuum. . . Just in time for “Spring Cleaning”. . . Just don’t ever do it on the “Sabbath”. . .


So I hope you at least take ONE positive away from this today. . . “Easter” will remain “just another Commercial Holiday” and there’s nothing “I” say that is going to change that. . .  But maybe you’ll think twice about getting “Green Plastic Grass”. . .


. . . ‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!


Peace Out – Later

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The Proof is in The Pudding. There’s a Dollar on My Debit

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on April 1, 2010 by danof89

I hate being poor. No. . . that’s not entirely true. . . I LOATHE being poor. . . In all the time I’ve been wandering around the face of our earth, I have done so with very little to “line my pockets”. STILL not entirely true (I should have actually thought this intro out a little before writing it) There have been “moments” in which I was able to “stay on top” of my finances. There was that one time in ’98, when I had 3 jobs. But I don’t remember much about that period in my life. Seems Sleep Deprivation and “Insanely Large Quantities of Alcohol” can play “little games” with your memory. I do kind of remember being an empty shell of a human being (as opposed to the robust and vibrant existence I now enjoy. *cough -cough* excuse me) So one would naturally assume, (c’mon. . . TRY) NOW that I am a little more “on top of my GAME“, things should naturally “Fall Into Place”. . . right?
. . . I mean. . . It’s been around 10 years. . .  I have a FAMILY. . . I’ve got a JOB. . . I finally MADE IT to California (woo-flippin’-hoo) . . . the AMERICAN DREAM! . . . RIGHT?. . . (have you read me before?) I’m gonna’ need to backtrack a bit to something I wrote a couple weeks ago. When “I” find myself guiltiest of repeating behaviors that ultimately net a result landing it in the “What Were You Thinking?” Department it is, more often than not, because of a decision I made about. . . MONEY. Never being one that ever HAS any, doesn’t seem to stop me from making monumentally HUGE mistakes with it, when I “Have a couple bucks”. There are people out there that say:
“Live Every Day As If It Were Your Last”. . .


“WOW”,  I say to the person offering this bit of advice to me, “. . . That is probably the most PROFOUNDLY RETARDED ‘bit of advice’ I’ve EVER heard in my LIFE. . . and you might want to check your fly, Kumquat“.


You see, I USED to live that way. . . When I was single. . . Can’t really subscribe to that school of thought when you have a wife and kids to think about. You see; Criminals, Gamblers, Alcoholics, Drug Addicts, Politicians, CELEBRITIES, People with NO SOULS. . .
  and people that write checks at PAYDAY ADVANCE places think that way. They don’t think about the CONSEQUENCES of their actions. They very rarely seem to think what the repercussions of their decisions will entail to those around them. . . I’m actually doing it right now as I write this. . . If I don’t start “Making With The Funny”, you will more than likely find some MINDLESS DRIVEL to read. . . So let me share a recent conversation with you. . .
The Setting:
My Kitchen last weekend. . .


“Do you want anything for Breakfast?” I asked my youngest. (before actually perusing the contents of our kitchen cabinets to see if I REALLY had anything to offer her)
“What is there?” she asked innocently, looking to me with her big blue eyes -piercing my heart (which was sinking fast, as I realized I might have enjoyed the last “Toaster Strudel” the night before)
“Uhm. . ,” I replied, now turning to rifle through the cabinets. Frantically looking for anything that might resemble “Breakfast Food Stuffs”. (why do people say Food Stuffs? What does that even MEAN?)
My daughter stood there, arms “semi-patiently” crossed, and peered around my legs. She could notice my obvious frustration mounting, as she dodged empty cereal boxes and wrappers being hurled over my shoulders amid my fruitless search. (we also had no fruit)
After giving me about a minute, my 5 year old asked, “Did you check the fridge?”
. . . The FRIDGE! Of Course. I was sure there was SOMETHING edible in THERE. . .
I now refocused my efforts on the refrigerator. Looking in every drawer, behind every container of “week-old leftovers”, in the butter and egg compartments. . . finally. . . the CRISPER yielded the lone suitable sustenance that I could offer her. . . A cup of pudding. . . and LUCKY US. . . it hadn’t “expired”. (The FDA doesn’t tell you, those expiration dates are merely “consumption guidelines”. More of a “suggestion”, really). . .


So what “Mistakes” have I been making with my money?. . . That’s the FUNNY part. . . NONE. . .
(couldn’t find Barry & Levon on Youtube)


. . . There just isn’t ENOUGH of it to go around.  (Money, not pudding) But I CAN point to a couple things that might land me in the “Questionable Call” Department. (Which is the second door on the left and down the hall from the “What Were You Thinking?” Department)



  1. “Rent-to-Own Appliances” Billed as “One Stop Shopping” to those with “less than stellar” credit, I recently PAID OFF the very refrigerator I was just referring to. The practice of “leasing” home furnishings may sound inviting to those that can’t plunk down a thousand dollars on an item that should have already come with the “Luxury Home” that they are ALSO renting. I mean, a hundred dollars a month isn’t much. . . right? That may be true, but when you extend that hundred dollars a month over the entire length of your RENTAL AGREEMENT. . . well, let’s just say you’ve just paid roughly FIFTY-EIGHT THOUSAND DOLLARS (plus all applicable taxes and surcharges) for a refrigerator now in desperate need of repair. It was funny. When I made the final payment on the fridge, the “Associate” ringing up the payment scared the crap out of me. Upon handing me my receipt and the OFFICIAL DOCUMENTATION stating I was now to consider myself the PROUD OWNER of a refrigerator I didn’t want anymore, he turned around and RANG A BELL. . . A LARGE Dinner-type bell (like from old westerns, ya’ know? . . . COME AND GET IT!) Immediately upon him doing so, EVERYONE in the store turned to see what was going on. People ‘sharing’ the managerial office immediately came out and offered me a round of applause. Visibly shaken by this, I waited for confetti and balloons to fall from the ceiling. . . It creeped me out. . . I’m STILL paying off our washer and dryer. . .
  2. “Cable Television/Telephone/Internet” They like to offer these services in a “Bundle”.  “It seems enticing at first glance. One Bill. One Payment. When you initially sign up, they even give you a “Special Offer” – a Reduced Rate for signing a One Year Contract. . . the rate is “Subject to Change at ANY TIME WITHOUT ADVANCED WARNING“, but you needn’t concern yourself with that minor detail, until your bill drops the following month. Then you realize the “Bundle” will now COST you a BUNDLE. At which point, they also inform you that you are to pay 2 months in advance to stay “CURRENT” and avoid “SERVICE DISRUPTION”. Now you are “locked into” a contract with SATAN. . . you cannot go back to your previous services, because when you cancelled them you “Burned Bridges” by telling them to, “Shove it up their Collective Butts”. . . and you may have also “accidentally” forgotten to pay the bills left OUTSTANDING with their “Collective Butts”. (not so outstanding anymore, huh?)
  3. “Student Loans” A DIABOLICAL SCAM perpetrated by those, who have NO desire for you to “SUCCEED in LIFE”. I signed up for my first “set” of these at the tender age of 18. At the age of 18 they can get you to sign just about anything. I think I signed something stating the government could also KILL ME during a “TIME of WAR” at that age as well. But at age 18, I was in a REAL hurry to “Become an Adult”. What says “Adult” more than amassing a UNPAYABLE DEBT? What did “I” care? I was going to be making Eighty Thousand Dollars a year upon graduation. . . It would be fine. I have NEVER made Eighty Thousand Dollars a year. . . I’m not sure I’ve made that much since college. I would have been better off living off of my parents for a few more years. . . I said “I” would have been better off, not THEM. I recently paid off those debts. (I’m 39 years old) But, having fallen for it again in my Early Thirties, I decided to go back to school and make myself MORE MARKETABLE. . . (I’ll remind you, I am a Public School Bus Driver)I will more than likely pass those NEW student loan payments on to my children when I DIE. . .  I think there needs to be a MASS OVERHAUL to the Financial Aid and Student Loan Institutions. If you don’t get the job you want upon graduation (or at least within the first year) the Federal Government should incur the debt. At the very least, the school you should attend should offer you a REFUND. . . I mean, what are you paying for, if you GRADUATE and no one wants to hire you? GUARANTEED STUDENT LOANS? How about GUARANTEED STUDENT JOBS? Maybe COLLEGES would “Step it Up” a little, if they were being held accountable. All I really learned from my first school was how to drink a LOT of booze. . . I did REALLY WELL at that school.
  4. “Electricity” Oh, sure. . . Most would consider this item a NECESSITY. By all accounts, they would be correct. A family living in “This Day and Age”, most likely would find it very difficult to survive in a world free of ELECTRICALLY-ENHANCED Devices. I know that in a house filled with children it is IMPOSSIBLE. . . Unless you are AMISH. . . I’m thinking of becoming AMISH. . . but then I couldn’t share THIS crap with you. . . and you would miss that, wouldn’t you? (just smile and nod) oh, there’s also the whole needing “Heat” and “Hot Water” thing.
  5. “Debt-Collection Agencies” The Most Despicably Disgusting and Unfeeling People on the Face of the Earth (next to John Edwards, Jesse James & Tiger Woods – or any other married man, that can’t seem to keep it together) I cannot count the number of times that these “people” have decided to interrupt a “quiet family dinner”, only to RUIN the evening, by making me feel GUILTY for not giving them MONEY. I can barely choke down my frozen dinner, after the call. They make sure I “know” (in NO uncertain terms) that I should NOT be sharing a “Hungry Man” with my two sons, because I owe “Company X” approximately the same amount of money that I will be spending for a Year’s Supply of “Hungry Men”. How DARE I try to feed my children! I have been known to tell the “Collection Agenies” to ALSO shove it up their “Collective Collecting Butts”. . . to mixed results. . . usually they hang up and tell another person (around the corner from their cubical in India) to call me back. . . about 2 minutes after I “settle back in” to finish the Hungry Man with my boys. They usually save me the brownie. . . good boys.
  6. “Food” I know I just mentioned food, but I’m getting hungry. . . and so is my family. I just find it a little “strange” that the ONE commodity that we need, seems to be so PLENTIFUL in this country. Yet day after day and year after year, people go hungry. I will have to be honest here for a second. (Everything before this was apparently some sort of elaborate LIE) We don’t go hungry in my home. . . Okay, that’s not entirely true either. We’ve BEEN hungry. But we can usually manage to “scrounge” something up. However, whoever is in charge of the “Food My Kids Like” really needs to work on making it affordable. And ENOUGH of the “Cute Commercials”. . . Don’t I have enough to deal with from a “Telling My Kids ABSOLUTELY NOT” Standpoint with the “Toy Commercials”? . . . NICKELODEON? . . . CARTOON NETWORK? . . . I think you hear me.
So I wanted to share with you “my latest”. . . Episode 2 of my “YouTube Debut”. . . Keep in mind that not EVERYONE that is struggling out there is “White Trash”. . . I don’t consider “Us” to be “White Trash”. But, man. . . Do we LIVE AROUND SOME. . . I’m not “judging”. Come to Bakersfield and ASK on of them. . . It’s like a BADGE OF HONOR. . . 

. . . As for “ME”. . . I’m just trying to “make it through this” and earn a living for my family. I’ve spent quite a bit of time trying to muster up a following with this little “Pet Project”. It seems to be gathering a little steam and for that, I’m grateful. I’m still working on “A Book” for a prospective Publisher who has shown “considerable interest” (whatever THAT means). . . I’m still trying to get my screenplays out there for a “Would-Be” Studio. . . and “WHO KNOWS?”. . . with a little luck, I might just “Make It” yet. . . At least I’m giving it the old “College Try” (The second time I went to College, not the first. . . I don’t “do booze” anymore) That reminds me, I need to get my student loan payment sent off tomorrow. . . and I think I saw a coupon in the paper for “Jell-O Snack Packs”. . . “Brunch” will be served promptly at 10:30. . . 


. . . ‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!

Peace Out – Later

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A “Vlog” by Any Other Name. . . Is a “Vlit”

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on March 26, 2010 by danof89

I was recently given the “opportunity” to do something at work, that I regard as “Life-Altering”. I was allowed to remove chewing gum from the floors and seats of a Public School Bus. Now, I know what you’re thinking (no I don’t) How in the world could I find such a demoralizing task something that could potentially change the course of life as we know it? Easy. . . I lie to myself. I tell myself what I am doing is something meaningful and substantial, so that I can drag myself out of bed every morning, look my wife and children in the eyes and go about my day as if I were a “Card-carrying Member of the People that Contribute Something to Society Organization”
 ; without weeping a lot or deciding that Russian Roulette is really just a matter of “good timing”.

But in those quiet moments, the ones between me rocking back in forth like a mental patient or a “Celebrity in Rehab” and mumbling incoherently about how I “Used to BE Somebody” – that I am given some of life’s most menial tasks. That is also when I really feel “ALIVE”. (dead people are rarely given the chance to clean a school bus) This is when I KNOW that I am “Making a Difference”. Sometimes, while actually performing the physical portion of the task (there is also a mental portion) I find myself, not mumbling incoherently – but speaking “Out Loud”. I will often “talk myself through it”:



“No disrespectful little bastards will step in THIS gum today. . . Not on my watch!”, I’ll say with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.



And indeed that is TRUE. Because of ME, no little “Snot-nosed Punk-ass Kid” will be “inconvenienced” by stepping in chewing gum. They will also not be “troubled” with the knowledge that the man scraping the gum or toting their “happy little asses” all over town and to their respective Learning Facilities, not only went to College (something few of them will do) but earned a couple of DEGREES while there – and did it with a “B Average”. They needn’t be burdened with such trivial facts. They have more important things on their “little” minds. Like sending explicit text messages, finding out where they can score some “weed” on any given weekend and deciding that they might “forego” their chance at college to pursue a life of crime. . .



Please note: I am not bitter. . . merely “observant”.



So by now, you may have found yourself asking, “Who the heck ARE you?” I ask myself that very question semi-daily, but “I” have to live with “Me”. You are able to “Surf the Net” finding other forms of entertainment.
Some of them “Good”. . .
Some of them “Not so Much”. . .
But the “Powers that Be” (ME) felt that this might be the best time for me to put a “Face” to my “Blog”. So, I guess you can consider this little outing my “Go Figg’r! Screen Test”. That being said – NOW, you may have found yourself asking, “Why would this guy (who I only find somewhat entertaining as it is) risk it ‘All’ by doing a ‘Screen Test’ for his own Blog?” You’re full of questions today, aren’t you? Well if you MUST know (pretend it is vital to you emotional stability – it will make this a lot easier) I wasn’t really sure that I was “right for the part”.
If life were a MOVIE. . . and I’m pretty sure that it is. . . and I had to audition for the “part” of playing ME in “Danof89 – The Movie”, chances are. . . I wouldn’t even get a “call back”. In fact, my life is actually pretty easy to break down “scene by scene”. I am very rarely able to “hit my mark”. (For those that don’t know industry jargon – that means finding my proper place on stage or in front of the camera, in which to stand) You can ask anyone that KNOWS me, I usually “Miss the mark” . I am also not very photogenic The camera does NOT “love me”. Not sure it even Likes me.(My face tends to go into strange and unnatural contorions when filmed or photographed) I also begin to stammer, while speaking. Something I do not do on a normal, daily basis. I have never had a speech impediment, at any point during my life. Yet, when cameras role, I find my speech pattern becomes altered. Usually one to be quick with a snide remark or “verbal jab”, I start to use the words “Uh” and “Uhm” with liberal abandon. In most cases, in order to be a successful “Smart Ass”, you are rarely afforded a sizable time alottment for “Getting in a Zinger”
 . In “Real Life” you are forced to think in “Real Time”, I very rarely “Think Before I Speak”. So I find it a little strange that the introduction of a camera, instantly creates a need in me to “Get it Right”. It’s not as if we can’t just “reshoot” the thing. And since when have I EVER “Gotten it Right”? Yet I stutter and contort, I stumble and devolve into someone I find unrecognizable on “film”. Is it “nerves”? . . . Perhaps. Is it a lack of “Self Confidence”?. . . Getting Warmer. Is it the fact I come across as a “Doofus on Camera”? . . .I think we’ve got a WINNER.
BUT, I thought it was TIME. . . TIME to share with the world how this Doofus thinks. But more importantly, what this Doofus “looks like” while thinking it.
If the call DID come down from my “imaginary agent”
 that there was an open casting call, it’d more than likely go a little like this. . .



I would undoubtedly be nervous. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t get any sleep the night before the audition. Then. . . on the way to the audition, I would most assuredly have to make a sudden stop in my car, while following someone too closely, while they swerve to avoid hitting some sort of dead animal in the road – which, upon closer inspection is actually just someone’s old, discarded bathroom rug. When slamming on my brakes, I -more than likely – would spill the entire contents of a 32 ounce “Big Gulp”
 in my lap and wouldn’t have time to go home and change. . . I’m already going to be late. In fact, I probably didn’t have time to either shave or shower that morning, because I overslept – having gotten to bed a little before 4 AM.
(Skip ahead)
I’m standing in line – at casting – going over the notes my agent emailed me the night before, because he/she’s in New York at a premiere for “Another Client’s Life Story” – which was introduced at “Sundance” – and whose early screenings and reviews, have made it “the one to watch” come “Oscar Time”. Anyway, I’m standing there,with a wet and raw crotch (because of the Big Gulp incident, not because I enjoy that sort of thing) I’m running lines (with myself) looking around and noticing all the other “actors” in line seem to really have their lines “down”. They also seem to be quite a bit more “enjoyable to look at” than me and have ALL had the opportunity to bathe and groom themselves. . .



Needless to say (yet, I always do) I won’t get the part. . .



Damn you Shia Lebeouf
 . . .



BUT for the rest of you? I introduce my first “VLOG” entry. Though I like to call my BLOG a “BIT”. . . (pretentious – much?)





I was thinking about calling this a “VLIT”. . . like a big, steaming pile of “Vlit”. 



I also went through HELL trying to get this edited and put on YouTube. Apparently 15 minutes and 8 seconds was a “bit TOO MUCH of a good thing”. Therefore the sequel (the other half I had to cut) will be coming soon. . . I’ll be “somewhere” looking for a glob of gum to help you avoid stepping in. . .



‘Til Then – Go Figg’r!



Peace Out – Later


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Remind Me to NEVER Do THAT Again. . .

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on March 15, 2010 by danof89









This Story starts, as so many do, with two guys hangin’ around a “water cooler” in an office. (I only worked in an “office” once, in the late ’90’s. I still see water cooler trucks. I assume that is where they are making the bulk of their deliveries). . . but I digress. . . again. . . 



“Hey Reggie!. . . What’s wrong? You don’t look so hot. . .”

“Oh hey Hank. . . Yeah, you know that new sandwich place around the corner from the park?”

(Don’t ask me why this story involves two Hall of Fame Right Fielders – again, back to the two guys – the one just stated he tried a new sandwich joint. . .)

“Yeah? I was thinking of trying it out. Is it any good?”
Reggie: “*Urp* I got a Tuna Melt with onions and cheese smothered in a creamy ‘Broccoli Chipotle Sauce’. . . *urp* I’m thinking it didn’t agree with me.” (he leans on the “water cooler” and braces himself, letting loose the ‘Winds of Freedom’)
Hank: “Wow that’s too bad!”
Reggie: “I know. . . Remind me to never do that again!” 
Hank:  “No, I mean your fart. . . That was brutal. I think you blinded me.”
Reggie: “Oh right. . . sorry. Excuse me a sec. . . I think I’d better go check my pants.”

Now, I understand by now that a sizable portion of you may be growing weary of my “Fart Analogies”. I think it was Eddie Murphy
 back when he was still funny) who said that when he was a young man, just starting in comedy, he told a lot of “Fart Jokes”. Because early on, as a kid, he didn’t really have a lot of “life-experience” from which to draw upon for material. I would like to think that I have a “wealth” of life experience to draw from. However, when it comes down to it, a “Fart Analogy” (not joke) pretty adequately describes what we ALL seem to be doing. . . “Farting Around”. If you’d prefer to say “Putzing Around” in order to make it “through this” – feel free. In fact, you’re right. . . I probably should have never brought “Farting” up at all. Put it out of your mind. . . the farting thing. . . 

BUT, for the sake of this “bit”, I will be unable to get beyond the farting thing. In fact, I needed to know MORE. I researched the origins of the word. I even went so far as to find a very helpful website whose primary ambition is to share “ALL THINGS FART” (check it out if you like: Facts on Farts ) I found it very interesting, but after about an hour, I decided there’s only so much you can do with a fart. So, I guess I’ll rely on the standard definition, so that I can move on. 

I found this definition probably the most all-encompassing, the most useful and also, the one that would help enable me to get on with my life.

Fart:
An emission of digestive gases from the anus; a flatus; An irritating person; a fool; (usually as “old fart”) An elderly person; especially one perceived to hold old-fashioned views; To emit digestive gases from the anus; to flatulate; To waste time with idle and inconsequential tasks; to …
en.wiktionary.org/wiki/fart

I think what “I” took away from this little “nugget” is that a fart, though a simple “act” to most, is anything but. Like so many other words in the English Language, it can take on so many connotations. So, that’s what I took away from my “research”. “That” and also that somewhere along the line, I forgot what I was talking about. . . Remind me to never do that again. . . 

But just like wasting about an hour, looking through the “Annals of Anal Emissions”, there are sometimes experiences in all of our lives that we wish we’d never, well. . . experienced. Aren’t there a few instances you wish you could “expel from you system” with the ease of simply “lifting a cheek”? Perhaps there are some mistakes you’ve made or lapses in judgement that have caused you to  say, “Remind me to NEVER do that again”.

“Remind Me to NEVER Do THAT Again”

We’ve ALL uttered this phrase at one time or another during the course of our existence. Anytime, that we have convinced ourselves that a “plan” or “set of plans” that, to any other “sane or rational” person, would be considered “NOT SMART” or a “Colossal Waste of Time” was, in fact, the single most brilliant idea to have ever been conceived in the history of things that are smart. (or at the very least, not “half bad”) This simple phrase (the never do that again thing), just like “Fart”, can have different meanings to different people. But it’s when we choose to ignore that phrase, when we decide that WE know how to tempt fate, beat the odds and come out on TOP. That is when the “fun” begins. . .
A phrase, that to a woman who’s just “given birth” – would seem “foreign” and would more than likely never even be considered once that beautiful baby (or babies) is placed in her arms. It would never occur to her at that moment, that she has just experienced the most physically impossible, painful and “disgusting to look at” feats imaginable. That it would more than likely be in her best interests to seek professional help for even contemplating putting herself through the pain, anguish, and torture of another “Child-Bearing Marathon” anytime again. . . EVER. Of course, I am speaking of mothers that have gone through ‘Natural Childbirth’ sessions
 . It is my understanding that there are a number of women out there that get on some sort of Morphine Drip, lazily go through the ordeal and squeeze the kid out like it was on a Baby Oil Slip n’ Slide – for them, the pain comes LATER. Because that leads to the other half of the parenting equation: In our case – The Spouse. I’m not really into defining people’s roles in their relationships. In some it could be the significant other, the insignificant other, Life-Partner, Donor Vile b-3qA. Whatever the case, it is none of my business and none of yours. Nevertheless, whoever is left after the “Child Bearing” to do the “Child Rearing” is most assuredly left at some point in time saying to themselves, their “spouse”, their therapist, their support group – “Remind Me to NEVER Do THAT Again. . .”
But as is so often the case with “People”, we rarely learn from our mistakes. NO, I am not saying that having children is a mistake. I currently “co-possess” 4 of them with my “spouse”. I think they are good for a great many things. Indeed, on more than one occasion they have come in rather handy. (For instance, if I misplace something when I’m at a busy Walmart, like say – one of my ‘other children’ – Well, I’m happy to say that 7 out of 10 times, one of my other kids can find them.) They are terrific! I LOVE my kids. But, the experience of RAISING children seems to be a continuous series of ‘Trial and Error’, with a HEAVY DOSE of “ERROR”. You would think that the older they get, the EASIER it would become. That is a BOLD-FACED LIE. Don’t even begin to tell yourself that. With everything going on in this Hazy-Crazy World of ours, I think we have it 100 times harder than our parents. Well not MY parents. . . But surely YOURS. My parents had ME. I’m SURE that was like HEAVEN. . .
About 3 weeks ago, my wife looked at me with that look only a wife can give a husband. (I suppose a janitor could give that look to a farmer, but it wouldn’t be the same – unless the janitor was the wife of the farmer – and they had kids) The look was that of a woman who desperately needed a way to “Entertain” the children. Very often in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Time can get away from you. Between the shopping, paying the bills, cooking the food, helping with homework – well, you can lose sight that the children haven’t actually been out of the house for around 3 or 4 years and that they appear much taller for some reason. So my wife and I decided that we would take our kids. . . to the Los Angeles Zoo. . . 
Now on “paper” this looked. . . like a “disaster”. No, I’m not going to sugar-coat it. Getting my kids to do anything as a cohesive family unit for more than 5 minutes, usually involves a lot of begging, pleading, threatening, bribing, beating and sometimes “foul play”. When I say “foul play” I don’t mean “murder”. I’m fairly certain “someone” would have noticed one of them was missing. Also, when I said “beating”, I was referring to my head against a wall. So you can just about start getting your undies picked back out of your cracks. Where was I? Oh yeah, we were headin’ for the Zoo. The van ride to LA was eerily silent. Possibly, because we were riding down in our BRAND NEW ’96 Dodge Conversion Van
 , paid for ENTIRELY by my tax refund, with NO THOUGHT as to what we could have done with that money when we RAN OUT OF FOOD a week after our “purchase”. (Kind of ties into the “Never doing that again” thing, huh?) But they sat in the comfort of our ‘New Ride’ and plugged themselves into various electronic devices – designed by someone who didn’t believe in ‘human interaction’. So by all accounts, it started off okay. 
When we GOT to the Zoo, someone failed to remind us that “I” was not the only one enjoying a 3 Day Weekend with my family. In fact, it turns out that a LARGE contingent of Animal-Loving Californians
  agreed that this would be the perfect day to “Be in MY WAY”. Therefore as dutiful Good Citizens, my wife and I decided NOT to strangle people as they “cut” in line in front of us. We resisted the urge to “punch in the nose” those who decided that THEY were the only ones of any importance within the confines of the World Famous Los Angeles Zoo. (For the record? It ain’t that great. Even if I HAD enjoyed myself) It took our kids nearly 3 and a half seconds upon entering the Zoo, to declare their distain for the Zoo, the people “in” the Zoo, my wife, ME, the size of the beverages that cost us roughly Ten Dollars per ounce. . . EVERYTHING. Please understand that we have VERY WELL-BEHAVED children. . . in PUBLIC
 . They have sneaky and underhanded ways of letting us know how displeased they are with our efforts in a very discreet and savvy way. Outwardly, they might look mildly upset. But INSIDE? a Tumult of Toxicity. They have already “Let us Have it” and we have been reduced to tears. . . INWARDLY. Outwardly, my wife and I will let just about anyone who wants to know exactly how displeased we are with ANY given situation. So, after about 4 hours of never finding a monkey that could throw poop in a way that “WE” could find adequately amusing, we decided to “make tracks”. You would think that my kids would be Happy to get out of the house after their 3 to 4 year hibernation. . . YOU, would be an “idiot”. Not MY words . . . “THEIRS”. 
So we filed the kids back into the “VAN” (which was now, in their minds, the biggest piece of crap they’ve EVER had the displeasure of riding in) My wife stating as she has SO MANY TIMES BEFORE, “Remind Me to NEVER Do THAT Again. . . ” Then we headed BACK to BAKERSFIELD (on a personal note, this drive “back” is ALWAYS a downer for me and my wife – “You mean we have to go BACK? . . There?“) BUT, we are a pretty resilient couple (my wife and I) We have barred the windows at home again. We have reminded them that they need us for “Food and Stuff”. All seems to be getting back to “normal” around here. How are we going to follow up the trip to the Zoo? Well, my Mother and one of my Brothers and his family are going to be here in June. . . We are going to hit “San Diego”. . . 

“SEA WORLD – THE SAN DIEGO ZOO!”
(we are gluttonous wrecks)

We’ve even been thinking about another kid. . . Well, I’ve been trying to figure out why people like Justin Bieber and my wife has been trying to explain it to me. (He’s a pint-sized annoying person with SUPER-SIZED marketing)


So what do Raising Kids and “Farting” have to do with one another? . . . Well, nothing really. . . I just write this stuff. . . In The End it’s Not About the Love You Make, But the Wind You Break?. . . forget it. Guess I shouldn’t have started with a “Fart Joke”. . . “Remind Me to NEVER Do THAT Again. . .”


‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!


Peace Out – Later


D A N 


P.S. I have recently found myself the interest of a Publishing House. They are asking me to give them “a book suitable for publishing and selling”. I will attempt to write as often as I have been… However, I don’t want to “blow this”. I have deadlines to meet and as always, I must continue to work at my “Real Job”: Public School Bus Driver. I ask that you Continue to “Stay Tuned”. I thank you for your support, your reading, your VOTING and helping get “the word” out there. Now, if some more “Chuckleheads” out there would follow suit, people might catch on.


P.S.S. I’m still working on the New WEBSITE! I will also hopefully start including some video spots with my “bit”. So you can SEE who’s been “Crackin’ Wise”.Humor Blogs Blog directory
“I’m the BEST KEPT SECRET on the WEB! But I’ve been tellin’ EVERYBODY”

  



thanks -danof89
 

People Are Pigs. . . “I’ve” Just Gained Weight

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on March 3, 2010 by danof89

(Please note: To avoid any controversy, the part of “God” in this
bit, will be played by “a Dude”) push pause at anytime on the video at the bottom – but watch it – otherwise this bit loses a little “street cred” -thanks- danof89 –
Without pointing fingers and naming names, it has been brought to my attention, that I sometimes come across as a “tad bit cynical”. I think that is the most unfounded accusation and stupid pile of “horse mess” that I have heard in my life. I will eventually get around to refuting that claim (someday) but first I need to tell you why I am “tad bit skeptical” about A Bright Future for Humankind
 
Let’s be up front and honest. . . We are a disaster. Being a believer in Creationism, I tend to look at “US” as a HUGE and drawn out Science Experiment gone awry. I think “The Artist Formerly Known as GOD”
 sat down with his chemistry set and started tinkering. I think he’s BEEN tinkering. At a couple points, during the course of the experiment, he has gotten upset with the results and scrapped the whole idea. Then, like any good Mad Scientist, he decided to START ALL OVER AGAIN (flood or NO flood). I am not one to question the mastermind behind such things as Internal Organs, the Dallas Cowboys, Dr. Drew Pinsky or Casual Fridays – but I need to know something. . . I think it was Dr. Drew (among other fake TV doctors) who’ve stated on more than one occasion that, “The Definition of Insanity” is continuing to repeat negative behavior, over and over, expecting different results”. So am I saying I think God is “Insane”? NO. . . I think he has been trying to give us the “Benefit of the Doubt”. But from where I sit, I am beginning to “Doubt the Benefit. He’s allowed us to make a real mess of things around here, but being the “Eternal Optimist” (literally) that he is, he keeps giving us “One More Chance”. . . Being HUMAN, “I” don’t tend to be quite as forgiving. . . but I’m working on it. . . 
That’s why, my “faith” was put to the test last weekend. 
There was a “burglary” at my church. The “chumpstain” or “chumpstains” involved made away with a riding lawnmower and two rototillers, from a storage shed behind the church. As of today, I am uncertain of the details involved. But I AM certain of the individuals involved. Whoever decided that it was somehow “OKAY” to steal from a church should

  • have never been born
  • have been born with the knowledge that stealing is WRONG
  • have possibly been born, but have been unaware where my church keeps their lawn care machinery
  • have never been born (did I already say that?)
I am also uncertain why my church was “targeted”. (No, I’m not) The church I attend is small. When I started going there (about 6 years ago) its congregation primarily consisted of “Older People”. That was fine with me. I’d personally been “away” from the church for a number of years, honing my skills at being a “Wicked Evil Mess”
 . Having perfected the art, and subsequently not finding it quite as fulfilling as they make it out to be on TV or in Moving Picture Shows
 , I decided it was time to return to my “roots”. This church seemed to be a good fit for my family. Older parishioners, by and large, are far less “jumpy” than their younger counterparts. I found them to be “non-threatening”. Being the father of four, I also enjoyed the 20 sets of “Built-in Grandparents” that my children had to choose from. They are a kind and giving group of “fogies”, who are the closest thing to my “real family” that we have. (most of my family lives in the Midwest) They have been there for us through a lot of “rough times”. Most notably, the passing of my dad (a career preacher) and my wife’s dad (a career great guy) in the last couple of years. That’s why when a gaggle of “Chuckleheads” decided to jack my church’s lawn equipment, I decided to take matters into my own hands and do the only thing I know how to do well. . . talk. That night I emailed one of the local TV stations. . .
Now there are a few things you JUST DON’T “DO” in life
– Keep yourself hooked up to an IV “spike” of lethal painkillers 24 hours a day, seven days a week – until you end up becoming a shell of your former self and die alone – becoming a “Punchline For the Ages”
– Depend on NBC for “Reliable Quality Programming”, whose Flagship Late Night Show boasts a host that has no socially relevant or redeeming quality.
– Steal From A CHURCH (a church of old people)

. . . You might as well be “knocking off” a preschool, during “nap time”, for their Milk Money. But, when I told my pastor, I’d notified the MEDIA, he didn’t seem to share in my enthusiasm or “bloodlust”. In fact, my exuberance was met with a little tempered hesitation. You see, though I welcome “most” attention, my pastor felt that our church (not known for “stirring things up”) might suffer a little from the negative press. I reminded him that “WE” did nothing wrong. The perpetrators needed to be brought to justice and  when that was over, I wanted a couple minutes alone with them. . . 
He was also unsure that they would run the story. . .
“This kind of thing happens ALL the time,” he said.
“Exactly,” I replied, “THAT’S the problem”.
. . . and it is. WHY would someone steal from a “church”? I don’t get it. I’m pretty sure the whole “Not Stealing” thing is on a list somewhere of BAD STUFF – if it’s not, it should be.

As you can see, that isn’t the ONLY problem I was made aware of, as a result of the “story”. I spotted a few more. For instance, I was unaware that my head was the size of a BEACH BALL. I also understand that it is a widely known FACT that the camera adds 15 pounds. . . after looking at myself on television, I am being forced to evaluate who should be held responsible for the additional 20 or so. The news station did a GREAT job covering the incident. But they called me late Monday night to do the interview. I was already in my “Pajammy Jams”. When I arrived, I wasn’t provided with a hair or makeup person (as I assumed was customary). They also didn’t shoot me from my “Good Side” (which was apparently left somewhere in the “90’s”) The “White Balance” (which I’d been assured was “perfect”) most assuredly was NOT (I appear pasty and “doughy” like an unbaked strudel). I also seem to be suffering from some sort of speech impediment. . . 
Now, I’d been “planning” on starting to include “Video Spots” in some of my upcoming bits, but after seeing this footage, I may need to reevaluate that decision. . . but, this really isn’t supposed to be a bit about “ME” now is it? (I think that may have been that “God dude” talking to me – he’s so temperamental)
The Point IS. . . People are Pigs. . . “I’ve” just Gained Weight. . . and We Want our Lawnmower Back!. . . 

‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!

Peace Out – Later

D A N

P.S. DON’T call the Bakersfield Police Department, unless you have actual information about the case. Also, please don’t report the couple in the picture shown at the top. They were nice enough to pose for police sketches -they are legitimate working models (hand models). . . I can just see some reader from overseas calling and saying, “Ya. . . I saw da’ mower in Dusseldorf. . . unless you really did”  


P.S.S. Please note I do NOT speak for the other members of the church I am affiliated with. The views expressed herein are mine and mine ALONE. In fact, they kind of “keep their distance” sometimes.



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Wait Just One Minute! Sure. . .You Got Change for a Twenty?

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on February 26, 2010 by danof89

. . . Can I have a minute of your time? . . . I think if you more closely analyzed what that request ACTUALLY entailed, you might be surprised how your “Usual” response to it – “Sure”, might quickly change to, “Are you kidding me? Step off Fool! I got to “make mine” and Time is Money! Bee-otch!” Though I personally could never say anything closely resembling that – in the vernacular, I would echo the sentiments involved. The problem in someone requesting “a minute” of my time is that usually – when that time is being asked for, there is rarely an equitable “Time for Goods Transaction” involved. If someone were to “Sweeten the Pot” by introducing something that I might actually “value” in some way, in exchange for my time, I would be far more likely to give them my attention. 
But it’s not just people wasting MY time. By the looks of it, there seem to be an abundance of people out there in the world today who are “WASTING THEIR TIME WITH ME”. I’ve even been told this very thing on more than one occasion:
“You are wasting MY time.”
“You are wasting YOUR time.”
and my favorite. . .
“Well, I can see I’m wasting MY time trying to explain this to YOU!”
I say, “Exactly! I could have told you that ‘VERY THING’ the second you opened your mouth and could have save us BOTH the time and obvious aggravation. . . “
Please note: When someone is wearing a suit and carrying a backpack( <—- very dedicated individuals – the Mormons)
 or approaches you at either a shopping mall or in a grocery store parking lot and asks the question, “Can I have a minute of your time”. You need to either

  • politely say “No”
  • tell them “I gave at the Office”
  • run as far as you can – as fast as you can
  • mace them 
  • shoot them in the face (not Mormons)

Oh sure. You could stick around and allow the person to actually “steal” those precious moments from you. But I’m trying to tell you how to avoid being a “victim” . For whatever reason there are those that aren’t convinced that “violence” or “physicality” are reasonable alternatives and still feel the need to “Hear Somebody Out”. Please, allow me to break it down for you in black and white, so that you too can be more efficient with your “Time Management” and fully understand exactly WHY this should be important to everyone that wants to enjoy Every Moment of Every Day:
It appears that in California (the state I currently hang around in, long enough to pay the bills – when I can) the current Minimum Wage is $8 USD per hour. (be pretty strange if we were paid in Euros) Are you still with me? (cause I do this stuff in “parenthesis” sometimes  and it can be distracting – don’t even get me started on “quotation marks”) Anyway, the State of California has decided those unfortunate souls that are forced to toil, bleed and DIE to bring us a better “Croissanwich” – in a timely manner – must do so at the “starting” pay rate of Eight Dollars “paid” for every 1 Hour of that type of LABOR “worked”. Now, there are obviously jobs in California that require far more “Mental Capacity” than “flipping burgers”. Like Bowling Alley Employee, Actor, School Bus Driver and Governor (I’ve worked an alley -‘bowling alley’ and a Burger King -in my ‘youth’ AND now drive a bus). These jobs can command anywhere from
$8.01 USD per Hour
 to A GajillionZillion Dollars per SECOND
  . I only point that out, because if there were a “sliding scale” available (there isn’t) that could show that we value the time of someone making our “Whoppers” LESS than we value the time of a Politician running our State into “the Crapper”. . . well we might have to “Pause for Thought” and in doing so. . . waste a “bunch more” time.
But, I’m “fairly” certain that what I’m saying is that we should VALUE OUR TIME. Look at it this way. At the “bare bones minimum” (in California) 8 dollars per hour -means 2 dollars every 15 minutes . . . right? Break it down even further. . . That means ONE dollar for every 7 and a half minutes. (I think you see where this is going) Every MINUTE of “WORK” is now worth approximately. . . 13 CENTS. Now, based on MINIMUM WAGE (depending on the “type” of work you DO) you are either grossly underpaid (Flipping Burgers)
 or outrageously overpaid (Governor or Actor – or Governor/Actor). All things being equal (they are NOT) in MY state, the Governor makes significantly MORE than Minimum  Wage ($206,500 USD per year) Though in fairness to Shwarzenegger
 , he doesn’t accept his wage. NO, not because he is a GREAT guy. Because he is already RICH and felt like there would be a lot less “pressure” to perform in a “manner befitting someone with a BRAIN” if he didn’t cash his paychecks. I’m told that he’s donated his income to such notable charities as “P*A*D*- PETS AGAINST DOMESTICATION” and medical research to bring an end to conditions such as 
S.A.G.G.Y.

“Sudden Austrian Glandular Gonad Yuckiness”
 . . . But the point is (I’m hoping) not only are we as PEOPLE not being valued as EQUAL, but our TIME isn’t either.
So I’ve “Crunched the Numbers”
 and still can’t make sense of it all. . . WHY is some people’s time viewed as MORE VALUABLE than someone else’s. Oh sure, I can understand someone who needs to pay off student loans, while performing “life-saving” surgery or “Teachers” (but only the ones that teach students to perform “life-saving” surgeries) But what about the rest of us? I’m still paying my student loans. I know where we keep the band-aids. But I don’t even like carving the Thanksgiving Turkey. (it’s a lot of pressure) As far as Pro Athletes and CELEBRITIES go. . . they are on a completely different level of “You’ve GOT to be KIDDING ME” than Politicians. What is it they DO again? . . exactly?. . .

EXACTLY. As for ME (I know you’ve been waiting) I will spend time ON people and WITH people. But I expect to be PAID. . . handsomely. If I were to “Pay Attention” to Everyone that wanted a piece of my time, I’d have nothing left for my family. So I treat most everyone as if I were being paid Minimum Wage. But please note that Minimum Wage (in my book – Coming Soon: in a real ‘nifty’ Leather-Bound Coffee Table Edition) means Minimum Effort. Time may be all I have to Give. So I VALUE MINE. I don’t have any MONEY to spend on people. I think I may have stashed enough away to buy a “Whopper or a Croissanwich” for the family. . . just ONE though. We’re on a BUDGET. In fact, my 5 year old just told me that it’s time to go. . . I said, “Wait a Sec. . . “
I better get going. . . I think she’s billing me. . .
‘Til Then . . . Go Figg’r!


Peace Out – Later

D A N 


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Pretend I Care, Then Ask Me Again Later. . .MUCH Later

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on February 7, 2010 by danof89

. . . I have one of those faces, I guess. . . No, actually, I think I have two of those faces. You either “swear” that you know me from somewhere OR you think I have an “honest face” . In fact it is the kind of face that A LOT of people assume is owned by someone that honestly  “gives a toss”  about what perplexes them. A face that belongs to someone that wonders how your day is going thus far, how your children are doing in school, whether or not you’ll be able to swing the “time share” in the Poconos this year, if your cousin Derek got a new hybrid car

 that can run on solar power and a light vinaigrette, about how your aunt Edith’s hemorrhoid surgery went or whether you seem to still have a normal sinus rhythm and stable vital signs . Truth be told. . . I don’t care. . . I’ve got “bigger fish to fry”
 and the fact that I HATE seafood is a fact that is obviously LOST on you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t still be asking me what I “thought” about whatever drama you’ve currently “cooked up” to make your life seem more interesting to me or anyone else that will take the time to listen to you. . . 
So that we can “get this party started right and/or quickly”
 , let me first tell you that you neither KNOW me or, quite honestly, have never met anyone like me. Depending on who you talk to, that could either be a GOOD thing or a SLIGHTLY BETTER THAN AVERAGE thing. If it seems that I am taking out all of my frustrations, with this matter, on you (the reader) I hope you understand that it is merely because you are “handy”. . . and I can no longer afford the therapy required to make the “voices”go away. NO, the voices aren’t in my HEAD. They seem to just follow me wherever I go. I know you’ve heard them too. . . I CAN’T be the only one dealing with this. Let me offer an example, so that we are all on the “same page”, shall I? (I shall)
If you find yourself in line, in front of me – at say – an “All You Can Keep Down” Buffetand suddenly decide to strike up a conversation with me (a perfect stranger. . . Yes, PERFECT) about your lengthy list of food allergies, then the prognosis isn’t good for you. At that precise moment, you are committing “Conversational Suicide”. You are all but dead to me. Please do not then continue to ramble on about how the last time you ate at this particular restaurant, you got food poisoning, which caused you to walk around with bunghole puckered for two and a half weeks, for fear that you would be sporting Chocolate Blossoms in your Thunderwear
 at the most inopportune of moments. If you decide that this is the type of person that YOU are. . well then. . . You most certainly DO NOT know me. As a result, I surely don’t know you. In fact, I will go to great lengths to ensure that anyone within “earshot” knows I’ve never met you before in my life.
. . . Don’t get me wrong (how could you?) I consider myself a fairly compassionate person. I think I am very “in tune” with the plight of my fellow man. I’m positive that I am empathetic to the “Human Condition”. However, it REALLY depends on the “Human” and “the Condition” involved. It is probably safer to say, that I am sensitive to the needs of my fellow man or woman or pet (whatever) on a much LARGER scale. It’s a lot easier to be compassionate for people that aren’t “all up in your face”. Individually? . . . One on One?. . .  well, I’m afraid that is starting to get a little too personal. Yes, it’s much safer to help others “from a safe distance”. I think the tragedy in Haiti proved that single handedly? Who Knew that many Celebrities could put their egos aside for ONE NIGHT to show the “World” how “likable they are as a group”? Outstanding. . . Top Notch Humanitarian Stuff
But what can we do here at HOME to make a difference? Well for starters, you can get out of my face. . . Unless I invite you to start rattling off every little insignificant factoid about your inconsequential existence, I’m fairly certain there will NEVER come a day when your unsolicited musings will find a home in my “Compassion Cubby”. For the record, my “Compassion Cubby” is conveniently located next to my “Like I Care Foyer”. Next time you decide to perform a “Home Invasion” on my “Personal Space”, I suggest you check out my newly-remodeled “Don’t Give a Crap Gift Shop”. Pick out something nice, then give it to yourself. Because chances are. . . I’m not giving you anything. Certainly not a “Crap”. Oh sure, I may toss a little “Crap” your way. . . but I most assuredly wouldn’t put as much thought into it as YOU could. . . After all, it’s hard to pick out a gift for someone you don’t “know”
If I seem to harbor an aire of superiority in dealing with those who claim and monopolize a good portion of my free time with meaningless “life stories”, I have good reason. I LET PEOPLE TALK. . . I acknowledge them. . . I nod, knowingly. . . There are even times that I offer suggestions and valuable insight. . . But “I Don’t Like It”. . . I would much rather just tell them how I honestly felt. But that would be “impolite”. . . To WHO? They don’t even ask me if I would like the opportunity to “opt out” of these one-sided conversations, before they start to “share” them. I would say the closest thing to protecting myself from these unwanted “Pariahs of Pity”
 are to use the handy “Human Shield Technique”. Sometimes, in a public setting, I can “sense” when one of these “types of people” are in the area. You can usually tell who they are. Say you’re at the grocery store: You are in line with a number of people. Everyone pretending to be busy doing whatever it is we do in line. (reading the headlines of Tabloids, telling our kids they can’t have any candy and to stop making a scene, looking in our carts and wondering how this can possibly add up to an entire paycheck) If you are alone, you are vulnerable. But if you are with someone, you can at least pretend that they are interesting. Otherwise, “Look Around”. As the wait becomes longer, you will notice people that have run out of things to do or look at. They have exhausted all options and start looking panicky. Then, usually, someone “says something”. It may start innocently enough. “Nice weather we’re having, huh?” But by the time it’s all said and done, someone has just spilled their guts, while the other is left in an exhausted heap – clinging to their coupons and a bottle of ketchup. . . Yes, it can turn that easily. If I make “eye contact” with someone in line (heaven forbid) I usually start acting like I have some sort of facial tick. Sometimes, I just start violently scratching my arm and nether regions while retching and coughing. This tends to get the “would-be perpetrator” to think twice about engaging in conversation. However, if someone does say something and I accidentally “respond”, it can be “tricky”. I usually try to interest a third party (like the cashier – They can’t go anywhere. You can.) in becoming a part of the conversation. I encourage it. Then I make my retreat, pay for my items and LEAVE
 . It deflects the attention from me and places it squarely on the shoulders of someone more qualified to deal with it. (someone other than me, that knows if the coupon is good on multiple bottles of ketchup).
All Seriousness Aside. . .
I work with a woman (I think she’s a woman), that seems to have a fairly good way of dealing with this situation, Though, I think in her case, she’s mentally “kooky”. I’ve never seen her face. . . During warm weather months, she wears a surgical mask. During the Winter months it is replaced by a scarf and stocking cap. One, would assume that she is merely, hopefully a germaphobe, has respiratory issues or had a REALLY bad “nose job”. Whatever the case, I have never had the opportunity to see more than roughly 3 to 4 inches of her face, at any given time. I have never spoken to her (she has acknowledged my presence with various hand gestures, eye movements and – on rare occasions – a muffled grunt or two) I could best describe this situation like working with “Kenny” on “Southpark” or the “neighbor guy” from “Home Improvement”
 . . . Whichever, but the fact is?. . . “That’s” intriguing. This is a person I’d like to know more about. “This” is probably someone with something to say. . . Don’t you think we could ALL benefit from a little “mystery”? Don’t you think people would want to know “What we thought” or “How we felt”, if we just “Shut the Hell UP” every once in a while? I know I’d find A LOT of people more tolerable if I didn’t have to “hear about them” all the time.
It’s just like the deal with CELEBRITIES. . . IN HOLLYWOOD. . . If you “linger”. . . If you “outstay” beyond what is customarily known as “Your Welcome” – especially when you have no discernible talent to begin with – you become the NEXT
Russell Brand


Heidi Montag
the Entire Cast of “Jersey Shore”
 . . . In actuality, it’s an endlessly revolving door of “Uninteresting People with Extraordinary Issues”. . . Isn’t it? These were the names of just a “few” of those who’ve been “forced down my throat recently – and they are the ones LOWER on the “food chain”. If you think about it, you could substitute just about any CELEBRITY or semi-CELEBRITY name and it wouldn’t matter. You know why? . . .  Because THEY  “Don’t Matter”. I need a break from the folks whose very presence in MY WORLD seems tailor-made to “piss me off”. They just end up joining the ever-growing guest list at my “All You Can Keep Down” Buffet. Those “in the KNOW” about people like this might as well be discussing the passing of their latest kidney stone, and dredging their sleeve through the “house dressing”, while returning to the buffet with a used plate – dropping “Used Food Crumblins’ “ in every food tub that I currently hold “open for consideration” – when it “expressly states” at the beginning of the line, that
ALL RESTAURANT PATRONS ARE TO USE A NEW, CLEAN PLATE UPON EVERY RETURN. . . These people should be Exiled. . . Banned from returning to my “BUFFET”. . . Would I care?. . . 
Well. . . Pretend I Care, Then Ask Me Again Later. . . MUCH Later.



‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!


Peace Out – Later


D A N  

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Everything’s a BIG Joke to You, Isn’t It?

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on January 21, 2010 by danof89
. . .Um. . . What?. . . That really sounds more like a statement than a question. . . doesn’t it? I am frequently confronted with that statement/question and am rarely certain how the person would like me to respond to/answer it. . . Has there ever been a time in your life, when you wish that you could be given a few extra minutes to come up with a witty retort or a snappy comeback? (this is very useful for those that don’t like to think for themselves) Was there ever a time, when someone so befuddled you, that you stood there staring “blankly” at them – wishing to God, that you didn’t look as utterly mindless and lacking of any wit-based thought as you did. . . at THAT very moment? Think for a minute or two. . . Have you ever been, say, at WORK or some other “Meaningless” Social-Type setting where your response-time to a devastating or potentially ego-deflating remark, was of the utmost importance? Only to find yourself driving home in your car from the humiliation – feeling beaten, dejected and in dire need of a “Do – Over”?
“Man if I would have just said, NO – I think it’s YOU that is a Doofus-Face and it is obvious to EVERYONE that you have a bladder control problem, bad skin and more than likely a stray patch of unsightly hair on your lower back, that you can’t reach with a razor OR a pair of tweezers!”
“. . . That’s what I SHOULD’VE said. . . “
If you’ve not had the privilege of meeting me to begin your thankless, cumbersome and long-suffering journey of figuring out what makes me “tick” (I enjoy eating meat. . . like ALOT) you could very easily find yourself “behind the eight ball”, when trying to have a conversation with me. I am not exactly “wired” the way most people are – OR want you to believe that they are. In the course of a regular day with moderate to heavy human interaction, I will find a large number of situations humorous and MORE than a handful of those individuals, that I come across. . . stupid. Please, don’t get me wrong. I am not so arrogant that I feel that I am “smarter” than other people. . .I’m just “better” than other people. NO. . . not ALL people. . . Just most. And that’s OK. . . In fact, it’s probably a really good indicator as to why I’ve been unable to really “get anywhere” in life. (Or so I’ve led myself to believe) Because, by and large, the majority of those IN CHARGE  of those areas in LIFE, that I wish to make great strides or achieve a healthy amount of success in. . . are idiots
 . The chain of events that put these people in a position of Power and Authority (and continue to KEEP them there) seems to have taken place long before I was EVER born. . . Some may say that I am just “kidding” myself. . . That is VERY true. If I left it up to others to do the “kidding”, well I wouldn’t be laughing much at all and I might just be left waiting an awfully LONG time. So. . .I guess the JOKE. . . is on ME. . . Pull up a chair neighbor. . . Jokes for everyone!
You see, unlike those of you unfortunates that I referred to at the top of this, I DO have a “Ready Reserve” of things I’d like to say to anyone that decides they would like to “Play”. (Meaning they have decided to DO or SAY something, that in my opinion, is dumb
 ) It’s all really just in the “Preparation”. You never know when someone is going to do something that insults your sensibilities. But, you will undoubtedly encounter a number of them on any given day. You’ve just got to keep your eyes open. If you feel that you have been “wronged” in some way. If you feel sometimes that life has given you the short end of the stick. I have two sure-fire ways to improve your outlook on your circumstances in any given situation:
Don’t Take Life So Seriously
Always Say The First Thing That Comes to Mind

Do I care about telling people the first thing that comes to my mind? I suppose. . . on SOME level. Probably on the level that is struggling to figure out how I am going to pay the bills. . . or pay for my kids’ educations. But, if you want to free yourself from the Bondage of Boneheads
 , you must be willing to Speak Your Mind. You can’t be afraid of “saying the wrong thing“. How many times has “second guessing” yourself led to less than desirable results? Think about it. But not too long. Go with your gut. People’s intuitions (unless you ARE the bonehead) are usually the best way to go. Here’s a quick example:
I was in the preliminary stages of early courtship with my current wife. She is also my only wife. (As in – I wasn’t previously married and haven’t married since) We were at a dining establishment. I ordered for the both of us, as is the tradition. (until you get married – then you decide what you will SPLIT) We received the food and exchanged pleasantries. During the course of the meal, it occurred to me that the food that we had been ingesting. . . was gross. Not wanting to upset my wife, I casually asked her how her food was. My wife, not one for public displays of vomiting told me it was, “Okay”. For her sake I choked down the remainder of the slop and smiled. . . and waited. . . As is the case in most of the finer eateries, a wait staff person approached us towards the end of the meal to inquire if the “food” had been to our liking. Knowing that this was one of the first times I had publicly dined with my soon-to-be wife, I thought this was the perfect time to “Set the Tone” for the evening and make a lasting impression. . .
“How was everything?”, asked the wait staff person, in a clear attempt to provoke me.
“This was disgusting”, I replied, pushing away from the table.
Quickly turning on me, the wait staff person growled, “What was wrong with it?”
“It was cold, it tastes horrible and I don’t even know what ‘this part’ is,” I said, flicking a piece of parsley to the side in bewilderment.
At this point, I hadn’t noticed that my wife must have dropped a fork and was rustling around under the table, trying to find it. . . or an “escape hatch”.
“Well, what would you like me to do?” the wait staff person asked, now obviously threatened by my brutish honesty.
“Bringing me the check would be good,” I replied. . . sensing I’d somehow personally offended her, but not caring in the slightest.
. . . And that was it. I didn’t ask for the waitress to “Comp” the meal. Even though I’m unsure that crap  could be classified as “food”. I DID have some manners. I was on a DATE for crying out loud. I had to make a good impression! I didn’t want my soon-to-be wife to think I was CHEAP (she would find that out after we got married) It was the PRINCIPLE of the thing. If you don’t say anything to people. . . If you don’t tell them the truth. . . Well then you have no one to blame but yourself, the next time someone tries to take a big old DOOKIE on your day. I’m fairly certain the wait staff person hadn’t personally prepared the meal and was a little dismayed by her expressed internalization of my critique. Whatever. I’m sure she’s gotten over it by now. Never mind, that my wife brings this “outing” up ’til THIS VERY DAY (some 7 years later) as a major source of personal embarrassment. I have been embarrassed scores of times in life and this doesn’t even make the Top 100. I don’t think she gets out much. But the point is, that she KNEW from that day forward, exactly WHO she was dealing with. . . I mean the wait staff person. I’m sure my wife will tell you it’s “anybody’s guess” with me.
Okay, so that was an example of “Telling it Like it Is”. This can also help you to avoid having to succumb to the latest in “Giving In to Life”. Most recently, I’ve noticed that people (meaning YOU or others like you) have adopted
THE BIGGEST “COP-OUT” PHRASE IN THE HISTORY OF WUSSYDOM:
“. . .Well, it IS what it IS”. . .
or a variation thereof“WHAT?”
Humor me here, but it didn’t have to be THAT way at all, if someone (other than me) would’ve DONE something about it.
All Seriousness Aside. . .
There are also times in your life when you come across people that are diametrically opposed to “Who you are” as a human being. They have a completely opposing view of the way things “are” and undoubtedly “should be”. In my life, these people have no way of knowing, when they wake up in the morning, that I will let them know (in no uncertain terms) that I do not take them OR their situation seriously. Now, I understand that, in adolescence, there are a number of larger kids out there – in schools throughout America – that like to torture those children that they perceive as somehow “weaker” than they. As an adult, I have also observed this to be the case. . . between adults. There are those adults that trudge through life, victimizing other adults – like they were bullies, walking the halls of junior highs taunting and threatening  pimple-faced or overweight kids for their lunch money. Being the victim of bullies (actually ONE bully – another bit, for another day) in my youth, I recognize this kind of behavior in my workplace. Ironically, I am still a part-time PUBLIC SCHOOL BUS DRIVER. However, I see this mindset in more of the adults I observe, than in all the miles I’ve logged toting around your snot-nosed kids. I mean. . . the most precious of cargo. . .Our Future. But, I also recognize this as a unique opportunity to right some wrongs and exact a certain measure of revenge. . . These folks don’t know what to do when they’ve been “INTELLECTUALLY PANTSED”
As a PUBLIC SCHOOL BUS DRIVER I am given the “opportunity” to interact and even “work” with a fairly large cross-section of humanity. During the course of any given day, any number of “events” can and DO occur. (though, rarely to me) Most recently, one particularly large “Cross-Section of Humanity” decided to “Get all up in my Kool-Aid”
 :
We have currently been experiencing a series of “Rain Events” here in Central California. An oddity. YES, the rain. (we get very little per year) and YES, the “weather folks” in our area insisting on calling them “events”. (I buy my tickets through Ticketmaster) Needless to say (though, I am going to) people in this area aren’t exactly adept at driving in these kind of weather-enhanced conditions. As a result, a number of bus drivers, in my department, found that the onslaught of rain (almost an inch a day!) added in the just the “right” concentration to soil, produced. . . mud. As you can imagine, this produced  a malay of mass confusion to some of my colleagues, ill-equipped for such a dilemma. As I drove my route (ensuring I maintained a safe speed and more than adequate following distance) I heard ONE panicked plea for assistance, that caught my attention:
“Dispatch (nerves, audibly frayed – confidence. . .shaken) This is bus Alpha Zero Niner (fictional number, to protect the stupid) I can’t move my bus. . . It’s stuck”.
Dispatch, overwhelmed by the number of calls from my fallen comrades, attempted to talk him through it. However, more often than not, in a bus versus mud situation, a bus cannot become “unstuck” of its own volition and it is necessary to perform an extraction. (this involves a tow truck and several taxpayer dollars) I recognized the driver’s voice being that of a colleague that, since my first day on the job, took it upon himself to point out other drivers’ inadequacies. Letting all that would listen know, that HE and HE ALONE was the King of Bus Drivers. . . All Hail the KING! Adding himself to the “David Beckham List” of pompous, yet strangely-revered people I can’t stand. He likes to make those around him feel “less than stellar” about their own personal achievements, all the while shamelessly flaunting his mediocrity. He is also “one of THOSE. Who can’t take a joke. Last May, before we left for our Summer (Hope to God, I can Find a Job) Recess, I had been asked to turn in my fuel key. I joked with my supervisor, that I was unsure I would like to relinquish it – as I had planned on using it to fuel my family’s automobile on numerous recreational excursions, during the summer months. Unfortunately, my supervisor (who CAN take a joke) did not warn me that “King Beckham” (again, someone who CAN’T) was standing behind me. The driver decided to let it be known, right then and there, that many Bus Drivers had been employed there for a number of years, sweating and toiling tirelessly – all over the place, and didn’t appreciate my “Shenanigans”.  I understand that he speaks for no one but himself. But he tends to do so. . . LOUDLY. At that point, I did NOT say the first thing that came to mind: “Lighten Up, Pukeface”. . . There ARE exceptions to the rule. I just put that little comment in my mental Roladex and decided to wait. . .
So the day after the “Torrential Downpour Event (8 months and 6 days, after “Mr. Tightbutt” decided to “Lay the Smack Down”) I “accidentally” ran into him at work.
“Got stuck, Huh?” I asked sensitively.
“Yeah, I don’t know what happened,” he replied angrily, sure that I was not going softly into that good night. . .
“You drove into mud,” I shared, “I probably wouldn’t have done that,” – hoping it would provide him with some valuable insight and possibly assist him in not replicating his misfortune in the future.
Now, I think it should be pointed out here that I’ve known this driver for nearly 2 years and he is well aware that I have a very low threshold for “Stupid”. I also decide, from time to time, to sprinkle a certain amount of levity on a situation – when I deem it warranted. This was one of those times. . . This is also when it got WEIRD. . .
“Everything’s a BIG JOKE to you, isn’t it?” he snorted.
“Not ALL of it,” I replied, unsure where this was going and whether or not I could “Take” him (I can’t) – and ALSO making note of a dark stain on the “lap” portion of his trousers.
By now, a few coworkers (nearly 3000 strong) smelled a little blood in the water and had decided to “go ringside” for a “free show”. I have to admit. The “chum-lover” in me, felt itself stirring. . . I Love me some chum. . .
“You’re a smart ass!” he sniped, most assuredly trying frantically to put me in my place and gain the upper hand.
Before I continue, I probably need to preface my “follow-up” with a reminder. My intention in initiating this conversation, was to lighten the mood of a cohort who recently had experienced a “trying day”. Someone, who obviously no longer dresses himself. In my defense, my response was meant to merely point out one obvious (to me) thing. . .
“Well it’s better than being a Dumbass. . .” (Meaning, if I had a choice between the two – Smart Ass would have to trump Dumbass”)
Unfortunately, this is how that response was heard:
YOU. . . are a DUMBASS“. . . Things came to a screeching halt at this point. In my coworkers mind, I had just called him out in front of everyone as incompetent. NO. . . worse than that, I guess (we ARE bus drivers) After the “Ooo’s and Ahh’s”, snickers and “Oh no he DIN’T ‘s (yes, din’t ‘s)” subsided. He took a step towards me. Sensing he had taken my statement a little too “close to heart”, I braced myself. Visions of the world’s largest wedgie coming my way. (He outweighs me by about 300 pounds and could easily squish me . . . or eat me – without complaining about the food)
“I don’t Play like that,” he said. . . then he extended his hand. . .(in a gesture of friendship?). . .  NO, upward. . . in the universally recognized “Talk to the Hand” sign. . .
I was unsure what to do (besides laugh hysterically). . . I began by half-heartedly trying to explain that in the whole “Smart versus Dumb” thing the alternative to Dumb was more appealing to me. . .
But, he simply turned around and walked away. . . A small part of me. . .sad. . .(everything being relative, any part of me next to him. . . is small)
I was beside myself, as were those watching what had just occurred. I knew in my heart of hearts I had done irreparable harm. . . I had taken away “his” fun. This guy, who had witnessed me joking around numerous times at the expense of myself and countless others. . . had “Nothing” to say. . . As he walked away, I said the only thing I could think of to try to salvage the “acquaintanceship”. . .
“Oh, C’mon. . . Don’t be a Stuck in the Mud!
But he was gone. . . and you know something? I couldn’t be happier! Neither could anyone else. Teams of coworkers have since come out of the woodwork offering encouraging words, “Good job man!” or “I wish someone would have set him straight sooner”.


I’ve heard it said (Usually in the context of a World Wrestling Entertainment Pay-per-View, but it fits here too) that sometimes it becomes necessary to “Know your Role”
 . I think I’ve got a pretty good grasp of what mine is in life and I’m fairly comfortable with it. However, I don’t think there is any way I could adequately prepare for a question/statement that seems to follow me wherever I go:
“Everything’s a BIG JOKE to you, Isn’t it?”
I suppose I could dust off the indefensible, “Well, I think that goes without saying, doesn’t it?”. . . then simply leave my new-found antagonizer to scratch their head. . . or butt – whatever triggers their thought process, to wonder, “What just happened?” But that doesn’t seem very satisfying to me. No, I’d much rather find what others do extremely fun to dissect, reconstruct for them in an easy-to-follow way, then point out why I thought it was either a horribly funny mistake or quite possibly – the single dumbest thing I’ve ever witnessed in the “History of Dumb Stuff”
 . . . Let the chips fall where they may, I say. Besides. . . it makes me feel a whole lot better about the stupid crap that I do. . . Talk about a “mess”. . . Don’t get all “bunched up” about stupid things. . . ‘cuz I’m watching. . . Don’t WISH you would’ve said it. . . After all. . . It IS what it IS. . .

‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!  
Peace Out – Later



No News is Good News. But Bad News KICKS ASS!

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on January 7, 2010 by danof89


I think we need to start by defining what constitutes “NEWS”. Could it be events that happen to “everyday” folks, like you and me? (or you) Possibly, but more than likely – it would have to be an event that was somewhat “out of the norm”. Otherwise, it would be merely a “happening”. As in:

“Did you hear what ‘happened’ to Mitch? He lost his job at Whirly Burger, because he refused to wash his hands after ‘dropping a deuce’ “. No, it seems to me that what constitutes “NEWS” today, usually consists of events surrounding people we view as somehow ‘IMPORTANT’ (i.e. Celebrities, Politicians and an occasional Cult Leader)
OR in EXTREME cases (“Slow NEWS Days”) it might be an ordinary person, thrust into EXTRAORDINARY circumstances. (i.e. Someone making up a NEWS STORY and LYING about their child hopping into a hot air balloon, so that they could get on a Reality TV Show. . . OR a “couple” of people sneaking in to a party hosted at the White House, so that they could get on a Reality TV Show. . . I’m sensing a trend.)
Oh, sure you may occasionally get a “cute” Public Interest Story about a DOG that saves some kid from falling through the ice and drowning in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. But, those kind of fluffy “feel good” stories aren’t as GOOD as people in such dire need of attention, that they are willing to waste tax-payer money and law enforcement resources to show that they are worthy of our “attention”. No siree. . . Anyway, “Little Timmy” should have known that the ice was thin. . . There was “standing water” on it. . . Screw Timmy. . . I want to hear about Bruce Jenner calling the cops on his neighbor.
One of the reasons I have “steered” clear of Current Events of late, is because it really doesn’t seem all that “Current” to me. Doesn’t the same basic “stuff” happen to the same few people every year. Even if it isn’t the same exact people, does it really MATTER? Not only that, but doesn’t it seem like the Nightly News, overall, is pretty NEGATIVE? Who needs all that negativity? If they DO say something positive on the Nightly News, it is usually when Brian Williams talks about “Little Timmy” in the last 30 seconds before telling us to tune in the following night to watch another half hour of how EVIL the world is and how much people suck. But occasionally (like once a month or something) he’ll tell us about “People Making a Difference” . This is wonderful. . . I LOVE hearing about people who make me look like a “Big Useless Turd to Society”. . . Thanks “Bri”. . . Oh, and please keep the stories coming about “Celebrities Making a Difference”. . . good stuff. Celebrities have ENOUGH. . . They don’t need to be glorified for volunteering at a Soup Kitchen. Here’s the News as I see it. . .
Celebrity overdose. . . Celebrity “accidental” overdose. . . Celebrity Scandal. . . Latest Celebrity “Wife-swapping” or “Adoption” Event. . . Blah, Blah, Blah. Iraq. . . Pakistan. . . Little Timmy. . .Goodnight. The line is so blurred between the Nightly News and Tabloid News, that I personally can’t tell the difference anymore. . . That could have easily been a telecast done by either Mr. Williams or my “friend” Billy Bush. . . Though, I think SNL has YET to invite Billy to host the show. . . In all fairness, Brian Williams was COMIC GOLD. . . But I couldn’t be any more DONE with TIGER, if I was. . . whoever his wife is, again. . . Now he’s shirtless on the cover of GQ?. . . Do I CARE?. . . Do YOU?. . . But we KNOW about it. . .hmm
All Seriousness Aside. . .
I think I am going to continue keeping my “News Consumption” to a minimum for a while. I may just keep it very BASIC. . . I call my MOM. . . a LOT. Every other day or so. She likes to keep up on the “News” from our house. As some of you may be aware, I have been undergoing a battery of tests concerning a recent pancreatic problem. Mom needs to know ALL about this. Without getting too graphic, I’m running out of orifices for my doctors to poke, probe or expose to large amounts of radiation – so that they can complete all of the necessary tests designed to let me know. . . I’m getting old. I think I’m down to my “ear holes” and my Urethra. . . I’m not even sure I HAVE one of those. . . or is that a Uterus? No, I think it’s the pee hole. Either way, I give mom the “news” and then I get to hear. . . “hers”. She usually, begins by telling me bout Gertrude or Agnes “So and So” – whom, I’m fairly certain I’ve never met, and if I DID, it was probably in passing or during my “Infancy or Toddler Years”. (If that is the case; I can’t be held responsible for actually “remembering” them, CAN I? To be fair, from age 6 months to 3 years, I had “a lot going on” and can’t be expected to put a name with a face. Especially, when I still depended on someone to wipe my butt. . . and tell me MY name.) . . . BUT, she’ll go on and on for about an hour, about how she found the perfect “throw rug”, while bargain shopping with her friend Phyliss (who she’s almost sure I met at my Christening – or was it my Circumcision?) Either way, it would go perfect in the living room of the house we lived in. . . 6 years ago. . . That’s the time MOST people pull out the TMI CARD (Too Much Information) If they didn’t when I said Uterus. . . or pee hole.
But, the point is (I think). . . I need to “scale back” on my NEWS. I’ve recently started to try to make up little Newscasts in my mind to amuse myself. (Seems not watching the news has freed up some spare time) I’ll notice things. Like things in the city where I live. For those that still don’t know. . . Bakersfield, California
 . . . It’s okay. . . no, really. . . I’ll be alright. But, the truth is – I live in town where people. . .JUST . . .DON’T. . . CARE. . . . about ANYTHING.
I mean, you may think that YOU don’t, sometimes and SURE, there’s plenty of apathy out there. . . But let me assure you – Nothing like this place. I’ve told you of the vacuous, soulless, eyes of its citizens. The streets lined with grocery carts. The bums trying to steal identities from welfare check stubs out of people’s trash containers, while collecting cans. . . But, there is one particular feature of this community that I have NOT been able to get used to. If I could make a newscast out of it, I would. Actually, I COULD, but that requires getting the camera out and charging the battery and all that. . . So I’ll TELL you. Actually let me ASK you. . .Do you go to the supermarket in your Pajamas? I’m not talking about running to the “7-11” to grab milk in your house shoes, I mean SHOPPING? I think, unless you’re the recently DEAD Michael Jackson going to court, that pajamas are not meant for public forums. Now I know that, by and large, I certainly don’t “give a rip” about Celebrities doing outlandish, zany or distasteful things. In fact, I EXPECT them to. But you get some 400 pound woman riffling through the “Bargain Bin” at the market: Rollers in hair, in a pair of slippers, knee-high nylons, varicose veins –throbbing and a “barely there” house coat – while I’m just trying to “squeeze” (avoiding any and ALL contact) past her LARGENESS to find food for my family?. . . I forget what I even went in there for. . . Cottage Cheese?. . . No, but thank you for the visual. You see. . . to me, this is Regular People NEWS:
“You know. . . Something really needs to be done down at the grocery store about those Pajama-clad Wildebeests, pilfering dry goods at the entrance at 3PM on a Wednesday. . . Now, back to you in the studio, Bradley. . .”

That’s yet another problem I have with the NEWS. . . I do not like when National Reporters decide they want to “toss it back” to my local anchor people. . . by NAME. Do they really think that I’m going to “buy it”, that they are on a first name basis with these schlubs? Isn’t it MORE likely, that they do NOT frequent the same watering holes and that the National Reporters stand in front of a “green screen” all day “tossing it back” to EVERY SINGLE NAME IMAGINABLE? “Now back to you in the studio. . . Maxamillian Kubacheski. . . “. This alternative makes a lot more sense to me and their little “LIE” doesn’t make the newscast seem any more “authentic” to me. . . so, please discontinue doing this. . . it is annoying me.
While I have you here (unless you’ve stopped reading – and we don’t NEED them. Do we Maxamillian?) I would also plead to Local and National Television News Conglomerates to stop airing any more Mammogram File Footage. I understand that “Breast Cancer Awareness and Prevention” are important. My mother is a 3 year Breast Cancer Survivor. But there’s got be something ELSE they can show. Even if it IS a different woman (I don’t believe it to be) The three-quarter rear view of some lady, hospital gown lowered on one side, arm raised, “creeping up” on one of those machines while the “Boobiologist”
 squishes it in the “X-Ray Vice of Doom” – is growing tiresome. . . Can you “mix things up” a little? Maybe some background dancers? The “Solid Gold Dancers”
would be cool. At least the footage would be more current. There are so many more ways you could handle “boobs”. . . I mean talking about them. . . I mean, nevermind.
I know I can’t COMPLETELY avoid the NEWS. But, I know of people that say they “Don’t Follow” it. You’ve met them haven’t you? For example – that guy that tried to blow up the plane over Detroit on Christmas (concealing a cellophane baggy of powdered, highly explosive “Crotch Tang” in his boxers). I heard the news on the radio, while on my way to pick up some milk at the “7-11”, while wearing a bathrobe. I thought this was the “funniest” news story I’d heard in quite some time and decided to open up a dialogue about it with the next person I came into contact with. When I heard he’d “smuggled” the explosives on board under his clothing, my mind automatically went to his underwear (before I ever HEARD it) THEN, when I heard he’d started a FIRE with it, while it was still under his clothes, I immediately wondered. . . if he’d burnt his “junk” off.
Anyway, the first person I came across, happened to be the cashier at the “7-11” when I stopped to get gas and pick up the milk.

“So what do you think about the guy who tried to blow up the plane?” I asked jovially, preparing to deliver my thoughts on the subject.

“I don’t follow the news,” the attendant replied, his gaze not meeting mine, as he peered over my shoulder at a television broadcasting that very NEWS . . . Live.

“REALLY,” I managed, ” I guess he burnt his crotch off”, leaving the store – unsatisfied by the gas attendant that really doesn’t “Get It”.

. . . See to ME, the only good part of the NEWS is when you add a little something m”Extra” to it, when sharing it with someone else. . . A little “Speculatory Seasoning”, if you will (or even if you won’t). More often than not; when you “make something up” about a NEWS story you’ve heard, read or seen – it automatically makes that story “more interesting” – and in turn, makes YOU “more interesting”. If it turns out, in the end, that your little “fabrication” was “way off base”, you need only say that, “You could swear, you heard that. . . somewhere”. . .OR you can just say that you saw it on FOX NEWS
 or read it in “The Times”.

If I could go back and have had that conversation at the “7-11” again, it might have gone more like this:

“Hey, did you hear about that guy that tried to blow up the plane?”

“No, I don’t follow the news.”

“That’s weird. He said something about your wife and kids and that if you didn’t wire him the money you’ve been saving up to move the rest of your family here to overcharge me 20 cents a gallon for watered-down gas and to say rude things to my wife, when she comes in here without me – that he’d tell everyone you were Al Qaeda -and- that you’ve been taking private flying lessons and spending an awful lot of time at the bus terminal, picking up Greyhound schedules to heavily-populated cities. . . Say, do you have a BROTHER?”

“Would you mind watching the store for a moment. . . Friend?”

“Not at all. . . Take your time. . . “

Of course, if I were ever to run in to him again, I’d obviously apologize for the “misunderstanding” But, I would quickly dismiss my actions as “justified”. . . After all, I saw it. . . on the NEWS. . . somewhere.

(By the way, “this particular” gas station attendant and I don’t EXACTLY see a whole lot of each other in social settings. . . He’s seen me in a bathrobe – and he’s rude to my wife)

The last thing I’d like to mention is the guy that made that Muhammad cartoon almost getting “whacked”, while living in a house (in Denmark) equipped with a “Panic Room” – where he’d been living under armed surveillance, since 2008 – because of a cartoon he put out in 2003. Being a cartoonist myself – and being known to “spin a silly yarn” from time to time I can only say, Somebody, can’t take a joke”. I don’t know, I’d like to think that the majority of those in the Islamic community are a fun-loving people. I wouldn’t mind seeing what they can come up with in the way of an “Islamic Sit-Com” or even an “Islamic Late-Night Variety Show”. . . I may be waiting a while. . . Do they not “get it”?

Sometimes I just wish Mom would call and tell me about a new mole she discovered, while shopping her local craft store for styrofoam balls. . . with her friend Mildred. . . whom I met when I was an embryo. . .


‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!

Peace Out – Later

D A N

Blog Directory

The “Random House” Rules

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on December 31, 2009 by danof89


Okay. . . So we’ve established that I have a chip on my shoulder and wear my heart on my sleeve. It seems that leaves me “just” enough room for a “Name Tag” on my lapel. . . “Would you like FRIES with that?”. . . At the onset of the 2000’s, it appears that my “professional attire” will remain stuck somewhere between a perpetual “Casual Friday” and a “glorified Bag Boy uniform”. Though I am not actually required to wear a name tag for my current occupation (Substitute Public School Bus Driver)
I might as well be. With a powder blue polo shirt, with my “handler’s” name emblazoned on the chest, it basically SCREAMS, “Yeah. . . women chose the color. . . Really angry women. . . You got a problem with that?” But alas. . . what can I do? Absolutely nothing. . . or can I?

I sit here, at the end of yet another of my children’s “Winter Break Sessions”
(No longer referred to as “Christmas Break” – As you undoubtedly know, GOD has been strategically removed from “Christ”mas – and now I know why) By the end of the second week, it seems like an “ungodly” amount of time for children to be sent home in an attempt to deplete us of our resources, patience and sanity. “Yeah, we had a GREAT Holiday, how about you? Woo hoo.” To be honest, about halfway through the first week, my wife and I found new and interesting ways to to “duck out” of the house, every few hours:

“Hey Honey,” I’d say – my nerves frayed, as our five year began bouncing off of the last “standing wall” in our home. “I think we need to go talk to SANTA. Ya’ know. . . about that. . . one thing”.
My wife now gathering her purse, car keys and a small overnight bag would respond, “Yeah,” kissing the kids and taking photos to remember them by, “We better get going. . . the North Pole is a long way and with all the Holiday traffic. . . “
Then we leave our kids in the hands of our (capable?) 18 year old. . .

We never really know for certain what happens when we leave the four kids home alone. I don’t really want to know. My best guess, would probably resemble a scene out of “Lord of the Flies”
or “Apocalypse Now”
. But as long as there are no “casualties” upon our return from “SantaLand” (an imaginary place, to some – we just drive around in “very enjoyable” silence) we typically view it as a successful outing. We usually come home to find the 18 year old cowering in a back room of the house, while the remainder of the children finish spilling the last of whatever they can find that will leave the “darkest possible” stain on our “new” carpet.
(quick note for parents of teenagers: the best birth control for kids is to have them babysit ours) Any other time of year a stain on the carpet would send us into “orbit”. But a stain on the carpet during “Winter Break Session”, means . . . another excuse to leave the house.

“Hey Honey,” I’ll say – my nerves shot, as my 5 year old finishes up “fusing” our dog to our cat, with a hot glue gun. “I think we need to go talk to that CARPET GUY. . . about that. . . one thing”.

These types of “errands” can keep us busy for a good portion of the first week. But by the the second week, we’ve spent all of our legitimate “Christmas” money, our “gas budget” is exhausted and the kids have started to catch on every time we “excuse ourselves” – Now, merely finding ourselves wandering to the end of the block in a daze. My five year old always suspects our “deception” first.

“Are you guys coming in?. . . I’m hungry!” she yells, to the end of the block, where we huddle – trying to blend in with. . . anything.
“Yes baby,” I’ll reply, “Santa is dropping off some carpet cleaner. . . I’m meeting him out here”.
“At the corner?” she’ll ask (very inquisitive – 5 year olds).
“Yes, sweetie, now go inside and play with your new Pet(s)
.

. . . But we’re almost there. the end of the “Winter Break Session”. The beginning of a New Year and a New Decade. The kids will be back in school. Which means I will be back to work. . . Which means I best “get to steppin’ ” on what it is I’ve decided to accomplish in the New Decade . I just turned 39 in November. . . It got me to thinking (which can sometimes be a “process”) It’s my understanding that some women have a “biological clock” set to about the same time (unless they are insane) that tells them, they’ve just about “used up” their alloted time for “making with the babies”. . . Now if you couple that with the “internal clock” telling a “professional” woman when a Glass Ceiling may no longer be able to be shattered (but may instead, just be a “really big skylight”) and I think you’ve also stumbled upon my “New Decade Dilemma”. . . and NO, not that I more closely identify with women, than with men.
But, just like bearing children, so do I view providing people with “Entertainment”. . . Painful? Sometimes. Labor-intensive? Certainly. “Messy”? Without question. . . But always rewarding. It has been a “process” trying to give you what you want. . . A “creation” that will keep you legally responsible and bound to me for “at least” another 18 years. . . In actuality, the parallels between telling a few jokes and childbirth, should draw absolutely NO comparisons. (I don’t almost pass out, while witnessing myself deliver a joke. When I saw my youngest delivered – it was almost LIGHTS OUT) But I wanted to illustrate a point and get your attention. . .

THAT’S What I’m “still” doing here. . .
In 2010, I will turn 40. This is “my Glass Ceiling” and the “not-so imaginary” deadline, that I set for myself (when I was 30) for accomplishing a few things in life. . .
They are (in no particular order):

Move to California (check)
Get Married (check)
Start a Family (check)
Become Outlandishly Successful and Amazingly Wealthy doing what “I’m Best At” (that thing to be determined at a future date) – (still pending)

So. . . so. . . in the New Decade, I plan on being “busy”. I will not be making any “North Pole” runs (at least not until the 2010 “Winter Break Session”) In this final year of my self-imposed “Success Deadline”, I will do everything I can to determine what is “I’m Best At” and, in turn, become disgustingly (to my enemies) successful at “it”. At the same time, since I achieved the bulk of my goals by age 40 – out of order – my priorities have “shifted”. . . a LOT. I haven’t been writing “this” as often as some of you had grown accustomed to. Part of my goals (as some of you know) included becoming a published Children’s Book Author
and to have some of my “Creations” turned into a “Full-Length Animated Feature Film”. That goal remains. . . As far as COMEDY. . . I haven’t attempted any sort of “Stand Up” in years. To be able to do that and be “successful”, you cannot merely “dabble” in it. It’s also not a life conducive to a “Family Man” . At least not THIS “Family Man”. No – whatever I decide to pursue in order that I may achieve this “Final Goal” will be more than “Dabble-Worthy”. I want to be able to concentrate my efforts on getting published. Perhaps by Random House
. You’ve got to admit (if you’ve read my blog – with any regularity) You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone more “Random”. I would like to explore “helping out” some folks that are in desperate need of assistance. I’d like to “give back” to the Community. Reach out to those that need our help the most. . . Does anyone know the number for NBC? I think Conan and Leno could use a kick in the ass.
So, when you read my “Quibbles and Bits” in the upcoming year, there are a FEW things I’d like you to keep in mind. These aren’t necessarily RULES, but for lack of a better term, that’s what I’m calling them. Call them whatever you like. Call them a pile of “Horse Mess” for all I care. But this is “Where I’m At” in preparing for the New Year.

The “Random House” Rules for “Go Figg’r”
  • If I seem to contradict myself from time to time, it’s only because I DO. We live in a world filled with contradictions. Get over yourself.
  • Just when you think you’ve got “This” all figured out. Think again. Then ask your kids.
  • When you find yourself confronted with something you can’t “make sense of” . . . Stop trying to.
  • No one has all the Answers as long as YOU have all the Questions.
  • For those not fortunate enough to have been “blessed” with Adult ADD (like myself) FAKE IT. It isn’t a “condition”. It’s a coping mechanism. If you’re easily distracted, you have less time to dwell on the “BULLS**T”.
Whatever, direction I decide to take, I’ve got to move quickly. . . I’ve already started the list of things I need to do by age 50. . . It’s a tad bit daunting. . .

So. . . so. . . I just ask that you keep Reading, Voting, Giving and Sharing. In the New Year, I hope you keep helping to put ME on the map. . .

‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!

Happy New Year!

Peace Out – Later

D A N

Making Your Mark, Without Leaving a Stain

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on December 6, 2009 by danof89


. . . So WHAT was I saying? . . . Contrary to popular belief, or just my unfounded paranoia, Tom Cruise and his friends at “Thetans R Us” have NOT put a contract out on my life. (that I am aware of) So I have NOT been hiding out from them and living in peoples’ barns throughout the Midwest (which for the record, are quite spacious and often, well decorated – a lot like the one Patrick Swayze rented in“Roadhouse” – RIP, bro) . . . I have also not been on a month and a half long BENDER, which would ALSO probably have ended up with me living in peoples’ barns. More likely, as a result of being unable to find either my car keys, my car or my house. Though I would like to give a special thanks to those in charge of “Passages” for advertising on my “bit” and taking advantage of the opportunity of a lot (a purely fictional amount) of conjecture, speculation and piqued interest in my absence. . . For those that don’t know, “Passages Addiction CURE Center”, is located relatively nearby, in Malibu, CA. When I say relatively nearby, I speak in terms of geographical location and in “hours to get there.” (about 2 and a half-depending on traffic). Passages is also world-renowned for getting a few CELEBRITIES to “pull their heads out” and straighten up over the years. It has aided such notables as Mel Gibson (hating life and the Jews, then losing all sensibility and becoming an adulterer), David “the Hoff” (after enjoying White Castle ala linoleum and becoming REBORN on a stupid show), Andy Dick (even though, I could swear I saw him on Sober House, after his stay) and some guy named Marc Jacobs (who designs clothing, I guess). Pauly Shore also stayed there – as did Stephen Baldwin (but I think THAT was lingering fallout from the film “Bio-Dome”. Either it was conceived by people while in treatment or those under the influence. OR while making the film, it became necessary to use drugs – A LOT of them)

Nevertheless. . . that would be

  • ME + BENDER = NO. . . and
  • ME + Contract on my Life = NO.

Unfortunately, contracts (of any kind) and my personage have yet to be mentioned in the same breath in HOLLYWOOD. (as far as you know) I have yet to amass the considerable “clout” required to be one of the biggest wastes of both TIME and/or MONEY, like the unflappable Mr. Cruise. While I sit #9 on the list of Comedians on “Blogged.com“, my TOTAL non-friend and (unknown to him) adversary Tom sits comfortably (quite comfortably) at #6 on the list of CELEBRITIES that have earned rather LARGE money for . . . NOT being entertaining. (here. . . look). . . But, I’m kind of jumping the gun. . . Go Figg’r. . . You were all probably just so anxious to hear where I’ve been and what I’ve been up to, that I’ve left you an utter mess. Barely able to cope under the stress and teetering near the edge . . . My bad. . . apologies around the horn. (except to Mr. Cruise. . . I think you know where we stand). So where have I been?. . . RIGHT HERE. . . What have I been “Up To”?. . . NOT MUCH. I’ve been hanging out with my family and working between really invasive medical procedures meant for men 10 to 15 years my senior, but (certainly) NOT for me. Bottom line? . . . My insides are riddled with ulcers and I am finding that JOY. . . I mean TRUE UNBRIDLED JOY in life CAN be found. It is merely a matter of diet, timing and a really decent Bowel Movement. In fact, my doctors inform me that the best treatment for my “condition” is to “Not think about it”. . . Unfortunately, ME – being one that tends to think about a large number of things (sometimes simultaneously) am having a little difficulty following their “specially-tailored regimen”. I’m still not quite certain, why the “Alien Probe” was necessary for them to surmise that my ailments are (in essence) all in my head. . . I just want to put it all “BEHIND” me. . .

All Seriousness Aside. . .

The “time off” did afford me the opportunity to reassess some priorities in my professional life. For starters, I needed to determine whether or not I HAD one. Quite a number of things have gone on in the 2 weeks since my last effort. I have observed them, noted them and forged ahead – biting my tongue and biding my time. I watched in the wings as “Professional” comedians took and made their collective “cracks” at current events. Some – “wise”(?). Some – “not so much”. I took another step back to get a better look at CELEBRITY and all that it entailed. I read through some of my past “bits”. (I’ve only been doing this since June) I studied the progression and evolution of my “writing”. A while back, I wrote something called, “I’ll Never Run Out of Things to Say. . . Only People to Listen”. I still subscribe to that philosophy. . . with a slight modification. I don’t want to lose sight of why I started this little “blog”. . . and that was – To Make a Difference. . . By commenting on people that “think” THEY do, but most assuredly DO NOT. Actually, I’m an artist and a writer and this “bit” was started as a means to promote my “work”. But during the process, I have seen some things going on in “Popular Culture” , that have compelled me to let you know they are WRONG. I have noticed some things going on around me in “Society”, that have prompted me to let you know that they are STUPID

. Not that you don’t have the ability to decide these things for yourselves, but apparently SOMEONE is “dropping the ball” in that department. As much as I claim to want to be a CELEBRITY, I feel the “need” to possibly redefine what that MEANS. (At least to me) Because, by NO MEANS do I want to join the ranks of what is out there “entertaining” us all today. (with a few exceptions) Could what I’ve been doing over the last 6 months, in an effort to promote my “work” be viewed as PROFESSIONAL JEALOUSY? . . . Sure. . . I suppose. . . if I were a Professional. As it stands, I’ve never been a professional anything. I’m not complaining, mind you. Just making an observation, so that I can share another. Though I’ve never been a “professional anything”, I’ve been quite a few “really good somethings”. . . Bear with me – we’re getting there.

I think that “satire” is a valuable tool in our world. The People, Places and things (nouns) that I satire on a semi-regular basis have taken it upon themselves to be a part of “MY WORLD” (really BIG noun). I cannot and WILL NOT be held responsible for the actions of others or why I end up finding them completely baffling as a “Sub-Species. I WILL be held accountable for how I respond to them. I wouldn’t have it any other way. That’s why I am ME and THEY are them. So if it boils down to “qualifications” for being a CELEBRITY, what are they? Who decides when it’s over? Who decides when it’s too much? I would say, my friends. . . the answer is “US” . There are STARS out there that have undoubtedly had their fair (and unfair) share of Hard Knocks

. But, don’t be fooled. It is no more than any cross-section of “Our” world. I brought up “Passages” Treatment Center , at the top of this, because I “Don’t GET it”. Am I supposed to feel SORRY for the CELEBRITIES that have decided, for whatever reason, to piss it all away? Sure, I feel empathy for someone battling an addiction or depression or any other ailment. But when that “condition” is brought on by CELEBRITY and all of its “trappings” , it starts to make my ulcers bigger. Not because I worry about the STAR, but because I don’t understand why it is such a “Big Deal”. But it’s not just CELEBRITY “hardships” that leave me scratching my head.


I contend that there comes a point in some CELEBRITIES’ careers that they MAX OUT on their STAR POWER and become a liability to the greater good of Society. At that point, it seems, they are merely in the business of “Being a Celebrity”. They don’t even necessarily have a very impressive body of “work”. . . Also within this class of CELEB are those that HAVE put out a sizable and respectable amount of TOP-NOTCH “work”, but have decided, for whatever reason, that they NO LONGER CARE. I could point to several. . . but do I really HAVE to? Okay, here are a few (Incidentally, they are also Celebrity couples):

  • Brad Pitt and/or Angelina Jolie (what have you done for us lately?)
  • Ashton Kutcher and/or Demi Moore (what HAVEN’T you done for us lately – and then told us about immediately?)
  • Jennifer Lopez and/or Marc Anthony (who are you guys again?)


There are also CELEBS that are SO outside of the realm of STAR, SO OVERSATURATED in society’s consciousness – that there is nowhere else to go. This can be a little “scary” to watch. Because everyone is so fascinated with their every move they make, they start doing really outlandish things. The difference-maker being, they live on an alternate plane of existence than “WE” do. There is a whole different set of rules for them. But because, we have ADCD (Attention Deficit Celebrity Disorder), they are usually forgiven for their transgressions and immediately (in terms of time vs. eternity) embraced again and given the “green light” to continue to entertain us, as only THEY (apparently) can. (Like we couldn’t just find some poor actor or film school student to step in as a suitable replacement) I’m pretty sure we could, but we become attached to our FREAKS:

  • Robert Downey, Jr. (remember? passing out in someone else’s living room?)
  • Mel Gibson (remember? being a racist, sexist cheater?)
  • Britney Spears (remember? Oops she did it again, and again, and again?)
  • The Olsen Twins (remember? No, I mean the last time they ate?)



There are STARS that are also so BIG, that there is nothing more for them to humanly achieve. These folks end up looking for something OUTSIDE of themselves to “fill the void”. Something BIGGER than Celebrity. Sometimes a CAUSE. Sometimes a RELIGION. Either way, in my estimation, they are trying to chalk up a few “brownie points”, because it dawns on them that all of THIS. . . is temporary:

  • Madonna (Should just start a gym in Van Nuys and go away)
  • Richard Gere (Should just retire . . . and remember “When” – while meditating)
  • Will Smith (So you made friends with Tom? Did he mention the racism thing?)
  • Tom Cruise (You will forever be my whipping boy – you suck)


As if THIS Circus visiting our town wasn’t enough, we have also recently added a new classification of “sub-species”. They are the CELEBREALITY. We seem to have invited the “Carnival” to join the “Circus”. Sometimes combining the two, with unrelenting freakiness. These people rarely register on my Entertainment Meter (I keep it under my bed), but have so inundated our culture, clogged up the gears and become such an insult to our common senses, that they cannot be ignored (but not for a lack of trying):

  • Jon Gosselin (and sometimes Kate) – Go Away
  • Levi Johnston AND Sarah Palin
    – Get Married
  • The Kardashians – WHY? Your dad was a lawyer, you DO nothing and Bruce Jenner is rivaled only by Joe Jackson, in “Old Man” plastic surgery procedures.


I would like to mention Two CELEBRITIES that have been in the news, as of late. Though I am not going to classify either one (I’ll leave that to you) I felt the need to point them out separately from the rest of the crew – cuz it’s PERSONAL.


– Reinventing yourself straight out of the chute? Really? You know what? I thought you were talented on American Idol. I thought that you were exciting and “fresh”, compared to the other competitors. But this ISN’T Idol anymore. Though your lifestyle isn’t my cup of chamomile, we GET IT. . . You’re GAY. . . NEXT?!. . . If you need to rely on gimmicks and something that wasn’t that shocking when we saw Madonna and friends do it a few years ago INSTEAD of a dynamic performance (it wasn’t) – then I think America picked right. At least Kris Allen, doesn’t hide behind makeup. Early on in this “bit”, I used his name to illustrate a point about CELEBRITY. . . Sometimes, I read my old stuff and feel like a “fortune teller”. . . I’m calling it NOW. . . Adam? You’re NO Carrie Underwood. (as much as you WANT to be or PRETEND to be – I think you understand me)


Tiger Woods – Let ye without sin cast the first stone? Well, I LOVE “MY” wife. I’ve got a bucket of balls, a four-iron and an early TEE TIME. . . Stand still. . .WHY Tiger? I Officially and Disrespectfully withdraw my offer for you to appear in “Orbotz”. (See my bit: “I May Pitch like a Girl, But I Hit Like a Man”) You were actually more of an afterthought anyway – a lot like your marriage. . . apparently. I again “Don’t Get It”. Why are all these CELEBS deciding that it is perfectly fine to RUIN their families? What is the deal with CELEBRITY marriage? Better yet, what happened to being a GOOD PERSON? NO, we shouldn’t give him a “break”, because he’s ONLY human. There are LOTS of us out here that are faithful to our spouses, that don’t need your “Happy-ass” and dirty laundry paraded in front of us OR our KIDS every night. Explain that to my FAMILY. The only thing that could top this off, would be if you deployed more troops in Afghanistan and then LIED to us and told us they will be back by 2011. But you know what? . . . it will be business as usual for him when the dust settles. . . punk.


Tony Robbins once asked what my “True” PASSION was. (he was nice to me, until he found out I teased him mercilessly) My wife and my kids are my passion. . .Their Happiness? My drive. . . The means to achieve that? . . . You’ve been reading it. I had a creative writing teacher in 7th Grade, who inadvertently set the tone for how I viewed my “Talent” and others that share similar “skills”. I was quite fond of Stephen King as a lad. . . I was a kid, but when I started talking about an author and Writing Class, I got all “Charles Dickens” for a moment. Anyway, I had an assignment to provide the outline for the first few chapters of a “novel”. . . I remember it vividly. (I still have the drawings for the Graphic Novel I’d hoped to turn it into – if anyone’s interested) The book was called “Cutter’s Edge”. The main character’s name was Landon Cutter. It was a sweet-ass spy/horror novel. (A genre, I STILL think is underdeveloped). Somewhere in the first chapter our “hero” has to break out of the “Psych Ward” of a Disreputable and Communist-Run Mental Institution. He is given his morning breakfast in his “cell” by an evil orderly, because he had been “acting out” the night before and was in solitary confinement. (I had no idea what the inner workings of a mental institution were and WOULDN’T for several more years. . . long story) Long story short?. . . Cutter stabbed the orderly in the base of the skull with a butter knife and got away. He saved the day and got the “babe”, while battling Russian Zombies (and some fat guy with a hairlip) . . . Hey! I was in 7th grade! The point is, when I got my graded report a week later – I was devastated. I got a “B”. I thought my teacher LIKED me! Nevermind the outline was riddled with inconsistencies, historical inaccuracies and enough graphic and violent carnage that it made “Natural Born Killers” look like a Looney Tunes cartoon (which in actuality, it did). This was “sure-fire” GOLD! . . . But there, underneath the grade, my teacher had scrawled out the only critique of ANY of the work I’ve EVER done that would EVER stay with me through adulthood. . . She simply wrote:

“Why would they give a KNIFE to a Psych patient? Good effort.”

So I guess the question I’ve been left with now is, “Why would you give a COMPUTER to a Psych patient?” (ME, being said Psych patient) I haven’t been “whining” for the sake of whining. There are entire websites and Television shows devoted to that already. I satirize CELEBRITY and SOCIETY, because they amuse me. In turn, I like to share that amusement with you. (With mixed results) So what imaginary boundary delineates the “Haves” and the “Have Nots”? I’m not sure. . .I’m trying to figure that out, and in the process, pass that information on to you as well. When I started this “campaign”, I started by letting you know that my ultimate goal was CELEBRITY. . . I’m not so sure anymore. I’m a writer and an artist. THAT is what I want to be recognized for. What makes a CELEBRITY

endure? How is it possible to stand the test of time without tainting your legacy? I would say, for starters they need to borrow a page from the Spiderman playbook. (available in paperback on Amazon.com and at Barnes and Nobles and Borders – where, you don’t even need to purchase the book. You can buy a $5 cup of copy and read a $30 book, like you were at a Library – just don’t take it in the bathroom) What I see lacking in Hollywood today is a sense of class and respectability. A total disregard by these folks not only to try to be DECENT human beings, but to be RESPONSIBLE with what we have entrusted them with. SURE, they are human beings – just like the rest of us. But somewhere along the lines, they lost sight of their RESPONSIBILITY. “With Great Power, Comes Great Responsibility”. Maybe they don’t think they ASKED for that responsibility. However, the minute they invite themselves into our living rooms, they are going to be “saddled” with it. . . So Giddy Up!

I don’t want to be an ACTOR/ENTERTAINER. . .I want to be a WRITER/ARTIST. . . Some would say I am. That’s great, but I want to also make a living DOING IT. . . THAT is where YOU come in. I’ve shared with you (that have followed me from the beginning) my failures, shortcomings, weaknesses, etc. So I figure I’m ahead of the game. It’s not like I’m going to get your hopes up and then take a MONGO DUMP on what you thought you were getting in “ME”. There are SO many of those people out there already. In the interest of “full disclosure”, I have rendered you POWERLESS to stop my ascension, through the ranks, to take my rightful place at the top of the list of “Really Enjoyable (to have around) Entertainment Providers”, by taking away any ammunition. By all accounts, I have paved the way for becoming the next Governor of California (but I think I want to stick to the “funny”) . . .I never ASKED to be funny. . . I just AM. . . sometimes.

ALL of this being said, I think I’ve found my calling. It’s what I’ve wanted to do since I was about 2 years old. The only problem seems to be, that it boils down to a popularity contest. Just like LIFE. The jobs you get, are all about if they “Like” you in the interview. The spouse you choose, has to be able to “Stomach” you. The friends you make, need to be able to help you when you “Move”. . . Everything is about the “impression” you make. It doesn’t have to be the “First Impression”. I would say that it is the one you LEAVE BEHIND. There are tons of people I’ve met in my life and thought were “okay”, upon first meeting, only to become a Colossal Disappointment. Seriously. . . Wouldn’t it be easier sometimes, just to say, “I’m going to put YOU out of MY misery?” Nothing says CELEBRITY today like a good old-fashioned “train wreck”. Am I guilty of “rubbernecking” the way we all do to look at the “carnage”. . . You bet. They say that fame is fleeting and that is FINE by me. That’s exactly what I’m looking for. If fame lingers or hangs around for too long, you either become BORING or. . . a liability to yourself or others. You always have to be “ON” or “PROVE” yourself. Who would want that? I am uniquely ME. Just like you are uniquely YOU. THEY? . . . don’t seem to BE all that uniquely anything to me. How can you call Adulterers, Drug Addicts, Criminals and Whack-Jobs “unique”, when it becomes the “Norm”? But I’ll stick around in the crowd and bide my time. I’ll watch the carnage. I’ll do my thing. Because at the end of the day, I’ve GOT a job. . . in fact I’ve had several. I’m beginning to wonder what “THEY” would have to fall back on.

. . . I DO have a request of you (the reader) Keep WATCHING. . . Keep READING. . . Keep VOTING. . . “Try” GIVING (to the “Cause”) I want to offer you something that NO CELEBRITY, author or artist has ever done before. a GUARANTEE. I guarantee to give you a body of work that will receive “NO negative criticism”. . . In other words, I PROMISE to deliver something that EVERYONE LIKES. I don’t think that has been done since. . . EVER. So write your congressperson (see how much I WANT this? I NEVER say congress”person”) Let them know they need to legislate a “Dan Needs A Break” Law. If you choose to help me to achieve this goal, I am sure there will come a day, when I am forced to work with some of the very people I ridicule. . . When I DO make my first film and it comes to casting, I can only say that I will NOT relinquish control in the “Casting” department. In other words, I will not be writing a Vampire film. Stephanie Meyer and Anne Rice seemed to have been unable to keep “emo boys”or psychos out of their creations (“I” will have a contractual provision) – Don’t get me started on Lost Boys 2. . . (it still saddens me)


What makes me think I can come in to the industry and “call my shots”, make some money and then bow out gracefully? Because, like I said, I’ve GOT a job. I haven’t run out of things to say. But, I’m starting to become a little more selective on when and how I say it. . . . I’m gonna’ make my mark. . . without leaving a stain. . .


‘Til Then . . . Go Figg’r!


Peace Out – Later


Back in the “Dizzle fo’ Shizzle”

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on November 25, 2009 by danof89
From the pages of one of the most MEANINGFUL and WORTHWHILE Publications of ALL TIME, comes the definition of a phrase that transcends all pointless and redundant phrases to have come around since. . .” You SEE what I’m Saying?”
The Phrase: “Back in the Day” as defined by  The Urban Dictionary.com
Back in the Day:
Completely meaningless phrase which has gained inexplicable global popularity. It’s an incomplete thought: Back in what day? It’s a redundant way of saying “Once, I…” or “I used to…” and adds words without adding any extra meaning. Similar to the equally pointless “at the end of the day…” popularized by English soccer stars.
Back in the day, I used to be younger.

 

I was a child once, back in the day.

I would like to explore the phenomenon known as “Old SchoolReminiscing”. Though those words are never actually grouped with one another to describe any sort of “event”. In fact, it is a thinly-veiled attempt to identify a more widely-recognized occurrence that takes place at this time in a lot of men’s lives, when faced with the prospect of “getting older”. This is NOT to be confused with a  “Mid-Life Crisis” . It would better be interpreted as the point in a man’s life, when he realizes he is indeed “Going to Die”. Not only does the man realize his very “mortality”, but he “takes stock” of his achievements (or lack thereof) in life, and formulates a plan for the remainder of his time spent on earth. The thing that distinguishes this from a “Mid-Life Crisis” is that the average life expectancy in the U.S. is  78 years of age. I turned  39 years of age last Thursday. I AMright at that mid-age point, however, plans are underway for me to move my family to  ANDORRA in the next few months (where the life expectancy is  83 years). I will thus ensure NOT having to go through this process, for at least another 2 years.  (I think I did the math right) Either way it doesn’t matter, because by then, I am surethat they will have invented something in the “Scientific Community”that will extend that life-expectancy well into the 100’s and that they will also come up with something that will reverse the damage done to my body by my  “Party Years” (1989-2001) and also come up with something that will PURGE my lungs from any trace of my years as a smoker (1985-5 minutes ago). That being said, I was really only left with the musings of someone that is growing slightly older and who is probably dealing with Early-stage Alzheimer’s(which will also be taken care of by my buddies in the  Medical Community WELL BEFORE I need to “start getting  worried“)
So with that “Load Off” I was just left wondering about how I will spend  “The Autumn of my Years” ? Now I realize that this may seem a tad “fatalistic”. I actually found the process to be quite liberating. In fact, as a father of four, I discovered that it gave me a different perspective on the world that  “I” grew up in and the one that mykids find themselves trying to  “survive” . I’ll be honest. . . the kids of today? Don’t stand a chance. (mine do,because they have ME and my WIFE for parents – I’m talking about yours) Unless they get into  Medicine . . . They need to keep us alive. . . and working. Pretty soon the age for collecting Social Security will surpass that Average Life Expectancy thing. Unless you join us in  Andorra . Do yourself a favor though. . . Learn a little Spanish or Portugese. . .
Keep in mind, I am still a  PUBLIC SCHOOL BUS DRIVER . . . in addition to the many other “hats” I find myself donning (typically a  fedora or  baseball cap – I tried a  derby , but couldn’t pull that look off) This rather “ordinary”, yet unusual (for a guy, fully capable of Manual Labor), occupation offers me a view of the “Next Generation” of  America . Those children that will soon become the“Leaders of Tomorrow”. A prospect I find not only “scary”, but downright “trouser-soiling”. They are FAR from ready to  “turn the corner” on a brighter future. I am afraid that (by the looks of it) they don’t even know where “the corner” is. Let alone know how to turn it. Unless it involves “Street Racing” . Then there are quite a few that could take the corner”, but would more than likely lose control and get in a horrible accident. . . I’m telling you folks. . . things seem a little BLEAK. The one thing that I have discovered in the two years since I’ve decided to climb behind the wheel of a  “40 Foot Twinkie”is that ,“TIMES? . . . They Are A-Changin’ “. After my birthday, this last week, I found myself listening to the kids on my bus a little more. I usually listen to them anyway, but I put forth a concerted effort to really “Hear” them. . . Shortly thereafter, I’d kind of wished instead of my mind, I’d have started losing my hearing. These “kids”TALK as if they are ADULTS. Albeit really IMMATURE adults, who seem to be suffering from sex addiction,drug addiction and, in A LOT of cases,  Turrets Syndrome . . . What they TALK about, what they THINK about and HOW THEY THINK would make you  cringe .
So. . . at the end of the week, I decided to look back at the way things were when I was approximately  “Their” age. Keep in mind that I am not waxing nostalgic(I don’t even wash my car) I’m merely differentiating between the “Stupid of Yesterday” and the  “Idiots of Tomorrow” .
Turning 39 was a birthday,that to me, held about the same significance as turning 15 (the year before I could get my driver’s license) and 20 (the year before I could buy a drink) . Though, Idrove before I got my license and drank before I could do so legally. . . Come to think of it, I drank while driving before doing so became“Against the Law”. Actually,driving while intoxicated, as far as I know, has ALWAYS been somewhat of a “No No”. But,I would have to say that in my “late adolescence” that  Law Enforcement was a little more lax on “the Law” and “the Enforcement”,when it came to making arrests.I am by NO MEANS making light of an “activity” that took the lives of more than 17,000 people in 2008 and is the leading cause ofcriminal death in the United States. There are an abundance of statistics and STORIES backing up WHY drinking and driving is not only STUPID, but life-changing,ending and altering for anyone left in its aftermath. I myself have been affected by the deaths of 4 people during my 39 years on this planet, because SOMEONE decided it was a viable option to get behind the wheel of a car when they wereinebriated. . .
THAT being said, I am referring to a time,in this country’s history, when things were drastically different. I would even go further back in time, and point to one of my favorite movies of all time: “It’s a Wonderful Life” to tell you what I mean. Remember when“George Bailey” got “tanked”, when he thought he lost the Savings and Loan? Then he went driving and ran into that tree? The guy who owned the tree seemed content just giving poor Georgeknuckle sandwich and sending him on his merry and drunk-ass way. When he happened upon Ernie and Bert (Happy 40th B-day Sesame Street)they were more concerned with poor George’s safety and how he was going to get home. Nowadays, I’m thinking I’ve seen that same scenario played out on countless episodes of  “COPS” with dramatically different (though equally entertaining) results. I UNDERSTAND that it was a MOVIE. But, I know (at least in the Midwest during in the 80’s) that the way it went in that scene, was more typical of the way it played out in Real Life 
. . . Time’s They are a Changin’.
I remember in the  late 80’s , it wasn’t uncommon for “kids” well under the drinking age (unless you drove to Wisconsin) to get a case of beer,pile into a  ’79 Chevette and go “Road Trippin’ “. In college(the late ’80’s/early 90’s) the number of “kids” increased, the Chevette was traded in for a  “Conversion Van” , and the case of beer was replaced by a “pony keg”(This would typically occur at smallish Christian Liberal Arts Colleges, which will remain nameless – or so I’ve been told) Away we, um . . .“they” would go. A pack of highly-intoxicated and “wound-up” teenagers. Traveling the highways and byways,the interstates, city streets and rural roads. Just a drunken  Keg of Dynamite , waiting to “Blow UP”. On the RAREoccasions that the “authorities” would actually stop “them”, the conversation would (hypothetically) go like this:
Cop: “You kids been drinkin’?”
Driver (laughing and quieting his DRUNK friends): “No”
Cop: “Can we look in your trunk/back of your van?”
Driver: “Why?”
Cop: “Get out and stand against the vehicle, I’m calling your coach/parents”
30 minutes later. . . You were returned to your dorm/parents’ custody trying to line up a “legal” alcohol-buyer  (the cop’s cousin)for the following weekend. The police would often “confiscate” the alcohol. “They” would always joke that officers probably took it home,or back to the station, and drank it. When they took a pony keg, I’m sure that Sunday Football was “Game ON” at the deputy’s garage the following day  (the cousin bringing the ‘tapper’) . . . This was actually pretty sad (for the cops). As students, “we” (okay, I can’t keep up the charade) could barely afford anything better than “Milwaukee’s Best” (aka Milwaukee’s BEAST) or  “Natural Light”(Nasty Light) OR on Special Occasions  Pabst Blue Ribbon (just PBR, it was like chardonnay) There was also a brew so VILE (it was $3.00 a case) ,called BLATZ, that was so beyond the description of repugnant, that its existence is legendary. I believe it actually derived its name from the “sound” it made in a toilet, once the full case made its way back up the “unfortunate consumer’s” digestive tract. If you were “lucky”(?) enough to “keep it down” a full 24 hours, the beer received a new name. . . “SHATZ” . I would joke, quite often (when I hadn’t been the one whose inner workings hadn’t been savagely BRUTALIZED by the malt beverage) that it would be a lot easier pouring the stuff directly down the toilet. . . Cut out the“Middle Man”. . . BUT, “they” would argue,would’ve lost out on the EFFECT. What was the effect again? Real Nasty Hangovers and a reason to write about how STUPID I was as a kid? . . Lucky that I and my  Motley “Brew Crew” had never gotten someone killed, injured or otherwise ruined our lives irreparably?
Some of you may be confused, from time to time, when it seems as though I give contrasting points of view on a topic. . .You may feel that in my effort to speak of the dangers of alcohol and impaired drivers on the roadways, that I may have  fallen short in my message and may have instead romanticized an “activity” that could be fatal. Thinking of the “good old days” (not all THAT great in hindsight) and losing sight of how it could have very easily gone a different route. InMY CASE . . .it did. . .I wasted a lot of years continuing to party LONGafter LAST CALLBut . . . this isn’t about THAT. This is about howTIMES ARE A-CHANGIN’.
QUESTION: Do you think that kids are doing the same things I used to do in my YOUNGER DAYS? You bet your ASS they are!  In LARGERnumbers. The numbers of fatalities each year as a result bare that out. But that isn’t the ONLY thing that I hear on my BUS, that concerns me. Maybe I AM getting OLD, but the “children” of today seem to have been “Thrust” head-first into an ADULT WORLD. Kids 14,15 and 16 years of age are talking about their sexual exploits. They are smoking and drinking as much as they EVER did. Maybe they AREN’T smoking Cigarettes like they did when I was a teenager. (I’d like to know which kids they get to take part in these POLLS) But they are smoking a HECKUVA’ lot more  POT . The first time I caught a kid lighting up a “sneak-a-toke” on my bus, I about LOST IT. I am, as a rule, pretty “laid back” in my demeanor. But the fact this little “puke”thought he would BLAZE ONE UP on my bus, threw me. Not so much because he was smoking weed, but that he couldn’t wait the10 minutes to get home, until he “hit it”.
As much as you might believe I was thinking about the “Good Old Days”, I was thinking more of a “simpler” time. The kids of today are confronted with temptation and “adult” choices at every turn. That’s part of the reason I don’t think they are too concerned about making that “last corner” towards actually “Growing Up”. What do we offer them to look forward to? Who do they really have as “Role Models”? . . . CELEBRITIES? How does THAT one work? We,as a society, are targeting kids with advertising that is VERY adult in nature. The TV shows, movies, music. . .(Wow, did it suddenly just become very OLDin here?)
All Seriousness Aside. . .
Who’d you come up with out there?. . .  MILEY CYRUS ? . . . No, I’m thinking when “Daddy” allowed her to date “Mr. Achy Breaky Statutory Rapey”, all bets were off. Then WHO?. . .  Britney Spears? nope. . .  Lindsay Lohan ?. . .nu,uh. . .To be honest, I can’t think of a legitimate “younger person” that could or should be put on a kids“pedestal”, as “What to Be Like” in a  person . I don’t talk A LOT about current events, but I couldn’t help but talk about something I’ve noticed of late on tabloid television. Yes, I watch it. How would I come up with my material? . . ActuallyMOST of that can be taken care of by watching the “regular” Evening News. But, this Levi Johnston and Jon Gosselin as guest correspondents on  “The Insider”, really gets me “bunched up”. WHY would society pin “CELEBRITY” on a couple guys that have contributed NOTHING to SOCIETY? They are a guy who knocked up a teenager and an  Adulterer ! BIG DEAL!?What kind of message are we sending the youth in our country? Be a frickin’ LOSER and ruin your family in front of MILLIONS and you can be FAMOUS?. . . Then they can’t stop talking about Johnston’s flabby ass posing for  Playgirl – for going on 3 consecutive WEEKS? . . .(My apologies to Sean Astin for my recent comparison’s between you and Levi. YOU, gave us  “Rudy” ). . .
On a final note, I wanted to mention that I REMEMBER sitting down at a church in my youth listening to a spiel about the  “Evils of Rock n’ Roll” . I understand that this debate has been going on since the invention of Rock and Roll, but because I have recently become “Older than Dirt”, I realized that those that came before me, might have been “On to Something”. NO, I am not going to become  Tipper Gore (No matter how much you want me to – Sorry, AL) I LOVE ROCKand still listen to it on a  daily basis. . . But, when the kids in mybus ask me to turn the radio station to something a little more“today” than what I am accustomed to listening to. . . let’s just say, I don’t remember the Rock of my youth having ditties like these. If they DID. . . I think my parents must have been doing something the rest of us apparently AREN’T. . . A GOOD JOB. Here’s a few (keep in mind, they are CATCHY as HELL, but little kids are SINGING them):
Disco Stick 
– Thank You to Ms. Ga Ga for following me on Twitter (still baffles me, why?) But I would think that even she would agree that 14 year old girls singing along to this tune, invokes images of a young lady singing about luring pre-pubescent boys to her “yard” and charging them for a crack at her “Milkshake”. Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to sing about a pogo stick – devoid of any innuendo? Though,this song skipsthe innuendo and goes straight to RAUNCHY.
Hotel Motel 
– On one of my family’s trips to Venice Beach (see one of my original “bits” in this epic WEBLOG) I spoke of a hotel catering to this type of clientele. The “train” left the station several times in the room next to ours one night. Seems a few guys (and a “woman“?) were on leave from the “War on Terror” in the Middle East and decided to keep me,my wife and children in horrified “TOTAL TERRORIZED AWAKENESS”. Let’s support our troops. But not at Deano’s Motel (on Sepulveda Boulevard in Culver City, California off of the 405). NOT a“family friendly” excursion. . .OR SONG.
Blame it (On the Alcohol) 
– Jamie Foxx was a funny member of the show “In Living Color”. When I heard this song for the first time, I thought, “Cool, yet ANOTHER song utilizing ‘Auto Tone’ technology. (something used by Cher ONCE – and that should have been the end of it – it should have been destroyed IMMEDIATELY thereafter) I thought, “There is someone VERY untalented on the other end of the mic, singin’ about how BOOZE makes him the sleazeball he is”. You can imagine my surprise when I found out that the Oscar-winner for Ray (2004), was the “sleazeball” who was gettin’ the kids on my bus bumpin’. (though not while IN my bus – just to clarify)
Everywhere I Go
– (I couldn’t show the video, because my “bit” is Rated PG) On the one hand, it is really good to DANCE to. It is VERY catchy. I liken it to the “Beastie Boys” and “No Sleep ’til Brooklyn” and “Brass Monkey”, save one “fatal flaw”. The lyrics seem to be about a guy who “can’t keep it in his pants” and would like very much to get underage girls a little tipsy, so he could get to a little “Date Rape” action. In other words this song is EVIL! I am sure that this song is very popular at high school beer-drinking parties across this great Nation of ours. The kids completely eating up the lyrics and more than likely living them out every other weekend. If not on a daily basis. . . “The Hollywood Undead” have another hit. . . while our kids have another “miss”. As in “missing the point”.
“WE” used to have Party Anthems too. . . IN COLLEGE. . .
All I know, is that Back in the Day. . . Girls weren’t getting “knocked up” in Jr. High, let alone TRYING TO. . . Kids weren’t KILLING one another with such frequency. . . DRUGS weren’t making the rounds in the playgrounds like they are today. . . TIMES? . . .They are a-Changin’. . . “Back in the Dizzle?. . . fo’ Shizzle” (and yes, I understand that is improper usage and a phrase rarely uttered with any frequency anymore – that’s kind of the point- I’m OLD-SOMEBODY has to keep an eye on this crew)

‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!
Peace Out – Later

(For the record, the kids on my BUS, aren’t allowed to speak freely of their exploits or RUN THE SHOW. I am a SUBSTITUTE PUBLIC SCHOOL BUS DRIVER – and as such, it takes me all of 30 seconds to make these appraisals, before shutting them DOWN)

Hillbillies and Hand Grenades

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on November 17, 2009 by danof89



Guns are for idiots. . . No, that isn’t what I wanted to say. People that own guns are idiots. . . hmm. . . that’s not quite right either. People that use guns are idiots. . . Nope. That doesn’t really convey with enough vehemence the point that I am attempting to illustrate; in order that you can better understand my stance on the “Death-Delivering Doodads” that have rendered the world we live in “Intellectually-Neutered”. By GUNS, I do not only mean handguns, shotguns, rifles, pistols and revolvers. I am actually referring to armaments, artillery, munitions and generally, WEAPONRY of any kind. This last week, while I watched the latest coverage on the Ft. Hood Tragedy and read up on the latest to come out of the Orlando Shooting Spree , I couldn’t help but wonder, “What the Hell is Wrong With People?” Then I sat down and contemplated a little bit more of our “plight”. The News Channels also kept us all “up to date” on the latest happenings involving the upcoming trial of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed . Then my thoughts inevitably returned to the events surrounding September 11th, 2001 . In turn, I began to think of man’s use of weapons, guns and various forms of “Murderous Mayhem”. They have a long and sordid history. . . But let’s start with me. . .

Don’t get me wrong. I was raised with “Country and Mountain Folk” . The Midwest is filled to the rafters with people who hunt, shoot and destroy. . . In my younger days I LOVED it. I enjoy blowing things up . I DON’T, however, enjoy killing. After blowing the head off of about the 17th rabbit, while hunting through the hills in Southeast Iowa, at age 12 or so, I kind of lost my “taste” for the KILL . First of all, if you hunt a bunny with a 12 gauge, there typically isn’t a whole lot of “meat” left. (But if deep-fried – it is salvageable) Secondly, the cousins or “Country Bumpkins” that accompany you on your DEATH HUNT generally expect you to “skin” and “gut” the thing. (Also, the reason I hate fishing – PLUS, I hate seafood – it stinks) Lastly, when you get to the final “eating” portion of the whole thing there is about 2 ounces of meat, and most of it is filled with little metal bits (buckshot). I was never really good at getting those things out. I think it takes a special “touch”. I’m certain I will neither acquire that touch or ever partake in an activity that requires having it. Unless for some reason I am put in charge of administering a “field dressing” during a war, while assisting the wounded. I guess, like the rest of the Midwest, I could keep a big stockpile of munitions in every room in my house and just. . . WAIT. . . Something tells me I won’t.
Now before the Animal Rights folks jump my ass (there second favorite activity – the first being to irritate me), I’d like to say. . . DON’T. I don’t want to get into it with you . . . again. . . As a matter of fact, I am going to start my own organization: P*A*D*Pets Against Domestication, and be done with it. . . You people annoy me. . . NEXT. . .

This isn’t about your Grandpa’s old 12 gauge, that’s been handed down from generation to generation and if stored legally, properly and safely is dismantled and in 13 different locations in your home. (The ammunition being held in a safe-deposit box at some bank that has changed names 15 times since you were last inside). It might be more about your Grandma’s little snub-nose revolver, that she used to keep under her pillow at night when your Grandpa was out of town on “business”. A revolver that has since changed hands and owners 18 different times, since it was in “Nana’s” posession and has been used in approximately 127 felonies, 12 misdemeanors and ONCE, as a toddler’s teething toy (this is just random footage I found-unrelated, I’m sure) . . . But, we could never know that FOR SURE (About Nana’s gun, NOT the “Cruise” clip). Chances are the revolver no longer has any identifiable markings on it and the serial number was removed by the guy who “knocked off” the convenience store in El Paso during the Reagan Administration . (’81 to ’89), unless you’re from California then it is known as BD and BS – Before Davis and Before Schwarz. . . actually I think BS just means B.S.
I understand that I am throwing a lot of statistics and numbers at you. I am sorry if this is all too confusing. But if you recall, in my last bit, I said pay “no mind” to fictional numbers. Believe me. . . THEY ARE. . . this isn’t a Term Paper. (and I know that Mr. Cruise didn’t “knock off” a convenience store – but he does look homicidal in the clip. . . right?)
The truth is. . . we can’t blame ALL of our World’s Problems on Guns and Weapons. . . But they sure as hell don’t seem to HELP SOLVE any of them. I understand that there were (and are) many brave men and women, that have died for our liberties here in the USA and abroad, over the hundreds of years since this Great Nation’s inception. I am indeed grateful . . . But we’re talking about NOW. I think it has been proven that it doesn’t have to be GUNS in the hands of someone EVIL, that can be used for mayhem and chaos. PLANES in the hands of the wrong people can be CRIPPLING. . . But fortunately for the US, we have the will and fortitude of a Sturdy and Resilient bunch. Would I like Bin Laden dead ? Sure I would. . . But I want it to be s-l-o-w. There ARE people out there that do NOT deserve to walk the planet, like the rest of us. HE would be such a MONSTER . I would much rather pound his head in with a rock (a dull,flat one) than just SHOOT him and end it much too quickly. But we are talking about retribution now and something that I don’t think we should be in the business of. . . I’m NOT a peace loving Hippie. . . though there’s nothing wrong with those – in my book (which is what you’re reading, so DEAL with it) I just think that if Cain had the opportunity to blow Abel’s head off with a 9mm instead of bashing him in the head with a rock, he probably would have opted for the “piece”. (The Bible doesn’t actually say HOW he did it, but I think you know it wasn’t the glock) So why is it the basest (and basis) of Men to DESTROY one another? I don’t understand War, Weapons . . . or GUNS. But we have them ALL. . . They EXIST. . . We can’t UN-INVENT them. So what’s the answer? GUN “CONTROL”? That is the biggest oxymoron ever.
I really don’t have any proposals. I just thought I’d open the floor to more “pointless debate and hyperbole”. There’s nothing that gets me going more than to hear some politicians in a “meaningless” debate with yet another member of the NRA . An organization that makes me feel about as “warm and fuzzy” as the 17 rabbits I “murdered” in my youth. (for the record, I was pardoned by Governor Terry Branstad in 1983) Can we just work it out in a sporting event? . . . Nope. . . seems athletes get picked up on weapons charges about as often as Celebrities nowadays. Why can’t we just “duke it out”? A little fisticuffs, when it becomes clear that two opposing views will never be seeing “eye to eye” and will more than likely resort to “eye FOR and eye” . That probably won’t work either. We’d also need a WEAPON.
So what constitutes a WEAPON? Something that can “bludgeon”? Even though I tend to like the word bludgeon. It sounds rather benign and almost passive. Like “Pigeon” . Could a pigeon be a “Lethal Weapon” ? I would argue, that in the wrong hands. . . it could. I think just about any inanimate object in the world could be used to “Bring on the Pain”. (Not in a good way – apparently there IS one) They say that, “Guns Don’t Kill People. People Kill People”. Fair enough, but people with guns are probably more likely to jack somebody’s car and murder someone than a guy with a pigeon. I find it difficult (though not impossible) to visualize a Breaking News Report on some guy walking into an office building with a birdcage in tow, dressed in his “Army Surplus Sunday Best” . (let’s pretend)

Fake Fox News Report (as opposed to the truthful ones, that I am so accustomed to them producing)

Anchor: “We have this report Live from Notanoogie Plaza. . . What have you learned about the attack Stew?”

Reporter: “Yeah. . . how’s my hair? . . . are we Live?. . . okay, uh, well Chip it seems he was laid off 6 months ago from the mailroom for unstable Postage-Metering Practices. Without any warning to anyone (the neighbors always called him a “quiet man”) he decided to “Uncoop the Poop” and unleashed a barrage of Pigeon crap on his former coworkers and some lady delivering sandwiches for lunch. The likes of which has never been seen in recorded “Bird Droppings” History. . . Back to you Chip. . .
Okay, I said it wasn’t “impossible” to visualize. (that’s why I get the BIG BUCKS)

All Seriousness Aside. . .

We are SO Lazy as a Society that we have decided (I’m thinking sometime in the 70’s), that we would just as soon SHOOT SOMEONE IN THE FACE, than try to work something out with someone. The CRIMINALS have ALWAYS been Criminals , but now they are more HEAVILY-ARMED Criminals . So how do we answer that challenge? More GUNS? People trying to get concealed weapons permits? WHY? So when you get all “effed-up” at the “Cheatin’ Heart Saloon” and some guy tries to get you to take a cab home instead of driving your “Pick-em-up” Truck, you can blame the guy for hittin’ on your toothless girlfriend and proceed to “Permanently” part the guys hair down the middle with your 6-shooter ? NO THANKS. . . AGAIN. . . that means that NO “Thank You” would be issued in that hypothetical scenario. . . “They” are always arguing on whether or not to shorten the time needed to wait to purchase a gun. . . WHY? Who the hell needs a gun. . . RIGHT NOW!? If they need one that bad, they probably need time to think about what they are going to do with it. . . or “Sober Up”. To me, that just sounds like the “Gunslingers of the OLD WEST” filing down the sites on the pistols to get a “quicker drop” on the other guy. (Of course, I’ve seen a LOT of violent movies. . . and some Westerns ) If you are THAT intent on shooting someone, come over to “My” house, so I can bash you in the head with a rock.
Really quickly, I want to touch on the recent events in the US. Just a day apart in their occurrence, but a MILE apart in the way they were reported. The tragedies in Ft. Hood and Orlando, Florida. Though the one in Ft. Hood, has had far more press coverage and obviously more injuries and casualties, they are (in my view) equally heart-breaking. The fact is the Orlando incident had the potential to be far worse, but luckily was not. But in the case of the Ft. Hood shootings, the gunmen was . . . MUSLIM. There has been an outcry in our nation, about our community’s Muslim population. Probably more accurate, is the call for keeping a more “mindful eye” on those of that particular faith. 9/11 notwithstanding, the US has been keeping and “eye” on them for several years. I don’t blame Muslims. I blame well-organized, delusional, homicidal Muslims who happened to take it upon themselves to take the lives of innocent people. You don’t see Lutherans strapping bombs to themselves and “taking out” a Disco. Or the Amish, driving a suicide “Buggy-Bomb” into a crowded shopping mall. The Amish don’t drive cars. Those that “ride” in cars, pay the people to drive them. I don’t see them talking any of the old “Country or Mountain Folk” , I grew up around, driving them into “Oblivion”. . . Maybe to a Craft Store for some “non-brass” buttons or something, but not the whole “bombing” thing. Some of the biggest and bloodiest battles of all time have been related to Religion, in some way or another, but that doesn’t make it RIGHT. . .
People are going to continue killing one another until the end of time. Nothing I, or anybody, can say is going to change that. There will always be BAD GUYS. There will always be GOOD GUYS. I’m not so sure the line between the two doesn’t seem a little confusing sometimes. But there, as always, seems to be an innate NEED between to disagreeing parties to be RIGHT. Apparently NO ONE can agree that there are “shades of gray”. . . I SAY It’s NOT always “Cut and Dry” or “Black and White”. Yet, there never seems to be anything closely resembling Compromise or a reasonable facsimile thereof. There is no such thing as GUN “CONTROL” , because there will always be idiots out there with access to them. There will always be EVIL people out there providing them with the means and misguided motives and opportunities with which to use them.
Before people point fingers and blame RELIGION for the motives of CRAZY people, they need to keep an eye on their “quiet neighbor”. They need to check inside themselves. . . What motivates YOU? Is it always “Cut and Dry”? Is it always “Black and White”? . . . Do you have an extensive “Rock Collection”? If so, can I use it the next time I feel the need to have a serious “heart to heart” with someone that pisses me off so badly, I want to shoot them in the face? . . . I didn’t say that I’ve never WANTED to shoot anyone. I would just prefer “bludgeoning”. It seems like it would be a lot more satisfying. . .
But from someone that grew up around guns and those that still enjoy their “fair share” of Weaponry? I think I prefer to leave guns in the hands of those that NEED them. . . Actors . . . but that’s a whole DIFFERENT “bit”. . . But I WOULD like to give a “Shout Out” (did I do that right?) and point to one of the best (and funniest) scenes in fairly recent “Cinematic History” (circa 1995) The scene is the FINAL FIGHT SCENE in the movie FRIDAY. Just because the actors in the film are African American, does NOT mean that this isn’t a problem in ALL OF OUR WORLD’S. They didn’t sell out. . . They made a statement. . .With my apologies to David Bowie, Ice Cube and DJ Pooh. . . (the language is a little “colorful”-sorry, mom!)
(This is Gun Control to Uncle Tom)

I’ll just leave it to my “cousins” back in the Midwest to go fishin’ and huntin’. . . the “Old Fashioned” way. . . I’ve got a Sam’s Club Membership . . . I’ve got my rocks . . . and a Pigeon.

‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!

Peace Out – Later

D A N
P.S. The visual embodiment of “Hillbillies with Weapons” were supplied by (in this instance) Levi Johnston and Sarah Palin. You are free to plug in any other “GunToting Mentally-Deficient Monkeys” you choose. “I” chose these chuckleheads. As far as my references to Mr. Cruise? . . I know he only believes in “Laser Guns” – so go save the Planet, Tommy! . . .By the way NONE of these folks should either be handling weapons OR children. . .thanks – danof89

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Money is Wasted on the Rich. . . and Bums

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on November 6, 2009 by danof89


While amassing my substantial fortune employing a very well-defined and lucrative “business model”, I have picked up some very valuable information that I would like to share with you. . . it will cost you $5. (I kid) It seems very elementary in its simplicity, and to be honest, I am quite surprised that no one in the Business Community has come forward to share something , that to me, could bolster profits, dramatically reduce overhead and enable anyone willing to follow this plan to have a “leg up” on building their own Legacy of Financial SUCCESS. I would even go so far as to say, if the folks in WASHINGTON could stop whatever it is they do, and listen for a moment, we could reverse the damage done by a Slumping Economy and WIPE OUT the National Debt. Let me start by letting you in on a little secret. The National Debt isn’t even a real NUMBER. Whenever I see the Official National Debt “Clock” on CSPAN or some other channel that I find confusing, I have to laugh. First of all, I usually try to figure out what NASDAQ is and how it affects my every day comings-and-goings. (it does NOT). Secondly, I want to know why people talk about the price of Light Sweet Crude Oil . . . Is that used in a vinaigrette or House dressing? Why should I CARE? . . . DOES somebody? But Lastly, and perhaps the most important “Fictional Number” in EVERYONE’S life is the one found on this “Clock”. Why is it a CLOCK and not a “Ticker”? I might actually take a little more interest in it, if it was shown during some of the updated sports scores I try to catch up on between episodes of Sponge Bob” and “Ni Hao Kai Lan” , at my house. (For those that don’t know, Ni Hao Kai Lan is the EXACT same cartoon as Dora the Explorer , only they have introduced Japan into my youngest child’s need for cultural diversity-and my need for spending money on things that ANNOY me. For those unaware of Ni Hao OR Dora? Congratulations. . . I will not be talking “smack” on Sponge Bob)


All Seriousness Aside,
Whatever they choose to call it. . . A Clock . . . A Ticker. . . A Clicker (which is actually a remote control) it doesn’t matter. When the number gets over a BILLION, it might as well be the Number of People Served at McDonald’s. At least THAT’S a number I can “Wrap my Head Around”. (which is a phrase I hate, but sometimes find necessary to use) As it stands the “National Debt Clock” shows almost 12 GaZILLIONMAJILLION DoodlyDOOBUCKS. . . infinity squared. While the People served by McDonald’s signs read about . . . 100 billion CUSTOMERS. . . and counting. Wow! That’s a lot of frickin’ burgers! (See how that works?) And THAT number even makes me want to know MORE. . . I wonder if everybody got “Fries”? I wonder if everyone “Super-Sized” ? I wonder if you placed those burgers end-to-end, how many times they would go around the PLANET? . . . Have you ever wondered that? . . . Like when they say if they took out all of somebody’s blood vessels and spread them out, they’d go around the world “two and a half” times? . . . How do they KNOW that? They have to have like a “test subject”, don’t they? Okay, so is this how it goes down?. . .
A couple of “guys” go down to the nearest Medical School and say, “Hey Ernie. . .Can we have another ‘bum-body’ ?. . . Yeah, someone wants to test a ‘theory’ . . . again”. Then the Morgue Guy (Ernie) signs the body out (while finishing his tuna-fish sandwich and getting crumbs all over the paperwork) Then they take the guy’s veins out and stretch them out to say. . . Cleveland. . . “How much does it look like we got left?”, One will ask the other with the wheelbarrow. . .“I’ve still got about a half a barrow full!” replies the other (via text message or long distance phone call). . . Then they consult their “math professor friend” to calculate how much of the rest of the cadaver’s veins are needed to circle the globe “2 More times”. So they don’t have to go to all the trouble and expense of “booking a flight” or anything. . . Otherwise the “theory” would be a logistical nightmare. Or, at the very least, just really expensive, silly and . . . gross. But at least “these guys” had a theory. . . at least they are “keeping busy” AND they are recycling AND they are utilizing our nations sizable Homeless Population. Albeit, in a Later Stage of Existence and not when they could be used at their FULL POTENTIAL. . . “These Guys”, are more than likely. . . RICH.

THAT is what is at the “crux” of any True Entrepreneurial or Financial Wizard’s “game plan” today. STAY BUSY. (or time-travel) There are A LOT of people out there still raking in the dough, while the rest of the WORLD sits around with their hands held out asking if we can “spare some change”. When all we really wanted to do was get 32 cents more out of the car ashtray, so we could buy a newspaper at the gas station. (isolated incident). . . I wanted to purchase the paper to see if their were any good Garage Sales going on in my neighborhood on the weekend. It was right about “Back to School” time and anyone that knows ANYTHING about MONEY, knows that Back to School Garage Sales are when people drag out the “good stuff”. As far as those that ask me for change EVERY SINGLE TIME I cross a parking lot owned by an organization offering Goods or Services? . . . I’m no sure that EVERY Country in the WORLD has been represented. But it is safe to say, enough nationalities have offered to “Clean my Windshield” , that the Olympics could more than likely introduce “Squeegeeing” as a new event in the 2012 Olympic Games. (And then probably introduce the word “squeegeeing” to the Webster’s Dictionary People , shortly thereafter) Why not make the Squeegee an intrical part of our Nation’s Rise out of the Dollar-Menu Doldrums ? “Curling” is a sport. . . I think. . . although to me, it just looks like a couple Night Janitors got REALLY bored while waxing some hall floors. Why not “Squeegeeing”? Seems like a logical progression to me. I think that Oprah and Obama would have had a lot stronger case for the Chicago Olympic Bid in 2016, had they just utilized Chicago’s Homeless as a Natural Resource. There are TONS of Bums, Vagrants and Homeless in Chicago. Sure, Los Angeles and New York share the bulk of them, but Chicago. . . that’s the HEARTLAND of America . . . AND it’s so close to the Airport. . .talk about convenience! Then there is the whole Midwest Work Ethic thing. Those bums could show you what grit and determination are made of. . . Well GRIT anyway. . . and grime. . . and probably ringworm .
If we could utilize the “wealth” of homeless people in our Country and train them as Olympic Athletes , we’d eradicate so many of the problems stifling our country and plaguing its infrastructure. Think about ONE in particular. NO MORE DRUGS. . . EVERYONE knows about the “Olympic Committee’s STRICT Zero Tolerance Drug Policy” . All of the Olympic Villages and Stadiums that are built every two years, could be used to house the Homeless. Look how well it worked during “Katrina” . When the Homeless become like a 16 year old in Menudo member (Old and Out of Shape) , they could be used as trainers or BROADCASTERS. Isn’t that what we do with them anyway? What’s the worst that could happen? They’d fail . . . miserably? Well then they’d just go back to being homeless . . . and then what have we lost. . .really?
Instead, our current Olympians , as far as I can tell, are a bunch of rich and spoiled children of CEO’s and Beauty Pageant Moms . (or in some cases. . . both) What do THEY contribute to society? They certainly won’t offer to clean my windshield. In my well-founded and completely unresearched estimation . . . the CURRENT Olympians are a bunch of DEAD WEIGHT . What legacy do their parents entrust to them? They take over the family business? I mean, the CEO’s of every major corporation only seem to grossly mismanage funds, exploit their workers, get caught in scandals, lie to stockholders and make the “American Dream”, look like our Government does while spending “Our” money. Don’t even get me started on Beauty Pageant Moms . They seem to not only mismanage THEIR funds, but their lives and the lives of their little girls (and now BOYS?) You are SICK . . . get HELP. . .

Go ahead . . . Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses. I’ll give them a Squeegee and a lucrative “Athletic Shoe Endorsement Deal”. It will give them something to do instead of bothering my ass, when I’m trying to find some clothes for my kids that don’t have grass stains on them on a Saturday afternoon.

But this brings me to a second segment of our nation’s populace and of the “poor”, that I’d ALSO like to make this transition. It seems to me that there are a lot of “poor folk” in this Nation that “work” the system. “LAZY” people on Welfare and/or Disability that don’t QUALIFY for either, but spend an awful lot of time and energy (almost exactly the proportional amount needed to HAVE A JOB) lying and swindling so they don’t have to work. They also spend an awful lot of time spending TAXPAYER’S Money at the first of every month, like they won the LOTTERY. (in a way, I guess they have) I see them at our local Walmart, buying Big Screen TV’s, while I’m picking up some garbage bags and dog food. (we have a dog – WE don’t eat it) How do I know that they are on Welfare and/or Disability? THEY TALK ABOUT IT IN LINE. Yeah, they brazenly boast about it with one another as they load a 100 pound television into their cart. I listen to them as they joke about it while walking through the parking lot (not being bothered for spare change) and load it in the car parked in a “HANDICAPPED PARKING SPACE”. (True Story) I HEAR AND SEE IT AT WORK. Families of the kids that I drive to and from school claiming to have more children than they do, EACH OTHER’S kids, being married, being single, WHATEVER it takes. . . LYING to get PAID. There are Distant Family Members of “People I Know”, that claim to be “disabled” and have REAL-LIFE Doctors writing them prescriptions for Mind-Blowing amounts of Narcotics , knowing full-well that the only “disability” the person has is early-stage sclerosis of the liver , from “drinkin’ & druggin’ “ 24-7/365 OR possible Carpal Tunnel Syndrome from excessive “Bong-Lighting” . . . It’s not just BAKERSFIELD or my neighbors . . . it’s EVERYWHERE.

SO. . .fine. . . We aren’t going to get rid of the Homeless Epidemic in America. We aren’t going to reduce the number of those on Disability or Welfare. . . and FINE. . . There ARE people out there that are struggling AND working hard that STILL need assistance. . . I’m not talking about THEM. (So put your hate-mail away or send it to Rush Limbaugh or a Republican Congressperson of your choice) There are TWO kinds of people that “Don’t Worry about Money” in our country. Those that have plenty and those that have it “All Figured Out” or have been “milking the system” for years, perfectly content with living off of someone else’s dime. I have an idea! Why don’t we make it MANDATORY for everyone on Welfare or Disability to pass a DRUG TEST before EVER being issued a check? OR we can kill two birds and just make them take the Drug-Test with the rest of the Squeegee Team.

. . . Let’s make some OLYMPIANS! . . . Let’s put these people to work and make America Proud!
How do we Help the Homeless? . . . “It Takes an Olympic Village. Those that don’t have JOBS with NO DESIRE TO FIND ONE? They can run the gift shoppes and sell Olympic Souvenirs. I know they can “sell”. They have been getting people to buy their CRAP for YEARS. They are even starting to recruit their kids into becoming Second Generation Welfare Kids while the CEO’s of Fortune 500 Companies are getting sizable bonuses while running their companies into the ground and dressing their preschool-aged daughters up like 20 year old strippers to make up for the fact that they, themselves were hideously unattractive children. . .

. . . When I started this bit, I promised a piece of valuable information to start your very own Legacy of Financial SUCCESS. . . Truth is I have a FEW. . .

1) Stay Busy

2) Don’t Believe Fictional Numbers

3) Hit Garage Sales on Weekends in Late August

4) Follow the Olympic Squeegee Team in 2016

5) Don’t Spend YOUR MONEY, Spend Someone ELSE’s

. . . I might be WRONG, But I wouldn’t BET on it . . .

‘Til Then . . . Go Figg’r!

Peace Out – Later

D A N


10 “Scariest” Celebrities & 10 “Creepy” Songs : HOLLYWEEN EDITION

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on October 30, 2009 by danof89


I hate lists . . . I really do, When it was suggested that I could boost my readership, by introducing them as a “fixture”, I thought it was a gimmick. I thought that it was only something that writers do, when they are hard-up for actual material. So, I thought today, to overcompensate for my creative “shortcomings”, I’d offer you TWO lists. This is something I actually did compile as a service and in doing so, found it very entertaining and rewarding. I also needed something to tie together HALLOWEEN ’09, as I all but told you this month was ALL ABOUT the Halloweenie around my place. The FIRST list is Halloween-related, inasmuch, as the idea was conceived and written the day before Halloween. I would like to “cough up” a list of CELEBRITIES that I find “SCARY”. oooo, boooo, MWAHHH, HAAA, HAAA. . . . no. . . This isn’t so much about a list of CELEBS that can “terrify” you or “creep you out”. (some are) Not everyone on the list is “gross-out material” (most are) It doesn’t even mean that you or I should think of them as someone we wouldn’t want to “Meet in a Dark Alley” (Okay, that’s a lie, THEY ALL are someone that would make me soil myself should THAT scenario “pan out”) Not because they are “famous” or “Untouchable”. . . Not by any stretch. . . PUH-LEASE. . . They ARE all , undeniably “People of Note”. Some more than others. I’d freak out in the dark alley thing, because I thing that’s probably EXACTLY where many of them got there start and it would be shocking to see them come full circle. (Sorry Andy Dick) This is NOT a list of CELEBRITIES I hate. (some are) It doesn’t mean they are the type of people that I generally try to avoid. (but most are) So who are the CELEBRITIES that I find “SCARY”, because I can’t, for the life of me, figure out WHY they ARE CELEBRITIES? (they ALL are)

To be able to “Roast” or “Lampoon” a CELEBRITY, it is generally common knowledge that the “ROASTER” or “LAMPOONER” should be someone of equal or Greater Value. That is to say, they themselves should be considered a STAR. I personally have a problem with that “theory”, because I cannot be held responsible for the fact that the “World”, just doesn’t understand that I AM ONE. It’s not my fault, you haven’t “caught on”. Luckily, I am a patient and forgiving man. Truth be told, left to my own devices and with a lot of idle “Celebrity Assessment” time on my hands, I just think about . . . stuff. I think we REALLY dropped the ball on deciding who we should be “this interested” in making a “STAR”. Here you are. WE asked for it:

(Worth (NOT) Mentioning: Please note that I am not including “people” like Octomom, Jon & Kate, or other people from the “reality” world. I do not consider them CELEBRITIES. They are more of a “Side Show DIStraction”. They are also like a “Cover Band” opening up for Led Zeppelin. . . NO, they’re like the “Groupies” of the “Roadies” FOR the Cover Band. . . Yeah, they disgust me.)

HOLLYWOOD’S TOP TEN SCARIEST CELEBRITIES:
(Because we have Poor Taste, as a Society, in choosing who we make “Famous”)

#10) Steve Buscemi – I apologize to Mr. Buscemi. In all honesty, he almost didn’t make this list. I understand that he is an independent film icon, who has gained world-wide notoriety for his quirky and “neurotic” characters. In fact, he has made a “Cottage CHEESY” industry out of it. Unfortunately, I could not overlook the “F’UGLY FACTOR”. When this “Snaggletoothed Thespian” burst on the scene in ’86 in “Parting Glances”, I think we were all so “shocked” by his appearance, that we felt sorry for him and said, “Okay, Steve, you’re a STAR. Just don’t make us LOOK at you anymore.” It was kind of like watching that kid in “Mask”. He was great in The Wedding Singer, Reservoir Dogs and even Armageddon (hey. . . Willis cried, remember) Sorry, Steve. . . I’ll glance, but it will ALWAYS be a “parting” one. . .

#9) Benicio Del Toro – Another “freakishly” unattractive man, who I DO like as far as being an actor. At least, for the “creepy” factor. He was in ONE movie that I actually SAW. “The Usual Suspects”. The problem with “Mr. Unibrow” is in his monotone voice and in, what I perceive, as a “One-Trick Pony”-style of acting. Am I a Director?. . . No. . . If I was, would I cast him?. . . No. He has been compared to a “Poor Man’s Brad Pitt”. Something else I don’t get. Not that I disagree. I’m just not sure I understand what that means. If it means what I think it does, I’d assert that he is more like the “Poor Man’s Willem Dafoe”. If Dafoe ever needs a successor (and I can’t imagine, for the life of me, WHY he would) I guess Benicio could probably do it. But, until then, I guess he’ll just be in more movies, I have no desire to see. . . like the upcoming “Wolfman”. I smell a Bad Moon stinking.

#8) Kathy Griffin – She was good in “News Radio”. . . Oh. . . I guess that was Vicki Lewis. Well, then, other than ONE Seinfeld episode, in which she played (by all accounts) herself, I don’t “Get It”. She has built a career out of “CELEBReality Television”, which is enough to make me NOT want to include her, but she is enough in the “mainstream” that I was forced to give her the nod. There are few comics that I find as “grating” or “annoying” to every one of my senses . . . simultaneously. But hang on. There IS one more coming up. I guess, I’d have to say my final thoughts on KG are that she is the unfunny, unattractive and MUCH older version of Sarah Silverman. But when Griffin is “vulgar”?. . . I feel like I just got molested by and Aunt. She has apparently been hanging out with Levi Johnston. (The kid that knocked up Palin’s daughter, then got the “boot” and apparently will be showing his FAT-ASS in Playgirl soon) Congratulations you two, I hope you’re as happy as Hulk Hogan’s ex and her Love Toy. . . ick.

#7) Marilyn Manson – He apparently did NOT get his start as Fred Savage’s geeky friend on “The Wonder Years”. I find that disappointing. Because, if someone needed to have at least ONE endearing quality it is the self-proclaimed “Anti-Christ SUPERSTAR”. His music is marginally okay, but I find his NEED for the “theatrics” to be tiresome and boring. He may TRY to be “Scary” in the literal sense, but accomplishes little more than getting a few “Pity Points” from me. He HAS been able to attract some lovely ladies in the past and that IS an accomplishment to some. Unfortunately, by and large, it seems that most of his “women” are just about as “Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs” as he is. I would like to know who started the rumor about him being on the “Wonder Years”. Is it the same person that started the rumor about “Mikey” from Life Cereal dying from drinking Coke and eating “Pop Rocks”? Does anyone know Mr. Manson’s address? I ‘d like to send him a “Care Package”.

#6) Richard Simmons – Okay, I’m going from someone with little-to-NO endearing qualities, to a “man/centaur” with TOO MANY endearing qualities. “Ms. Simmons” is like a Care Bear on Crack. Though, I have heard very little from him in the last couple of years. (We apparently don’t run in the same ‘social circles’ – in fact, I think, he’s the only one that still runs in circles, socially) I have always been a little “off-put” by his “Nut-Hugger” shorts, shaved legs with FULL-ON Hairy MAN Chest and his “Bob Ross” afro. But his OVER EXUBERANCE with life is, too me, unsettling. Especially from someone, who admittedly suffered from Major Chronic Depression. I always wait for the other “running shoe” to drop with THIS one. His unnatural obsession with the Morbidly Obese is a Little too much for me. . . Especially, when he, as far as I can tell, has not been a very “thin” Fitness Guru.

#5) Kathy Lee GiffordDon’t want to hear about your kids. Don’t want to hear about your Adulterous Husband and how you’ve managed to save your marriage.(Despite his SIZABLE NFL Pension, Broadcasting Residuals or Investment Prowess) I CERTAINLY don’t want to hear about the new “Musical” that you’ve written opening on “Off-Broadway”. I don’t want to hear about your upcoming “Songs of Faith in the Season” Christmas CD. I don’t want to hear you talking to Hoda Kotb – carrying on and turning the last hour of the “Today Show” into the “When the Hell Will it be Tomorrow? Show”. . . Hey, I guess I don’t want to hear you at all. . . Imagine that. . . Yet, you keep going and going. Has anyone ever noticed that she has BECOME “Regis”? She “talks” just like him. . . Only I LIKE him. So to the “SweatShop Sweetheart”, I will have to take a pass. You can’t pull off “perky” into your 60’s. Find a hobby. . . But for God’s sake don’t TELL anyone about it.

#4) Janice Dickinson – Another freaky “Diva-Wanna-been” that I was reluctant to include on my “list”. I am not quite sure where, when, how or WHY her career started. She is another in a seemingly endless barrage of “Reality TV” folk that have, by their sheer overexposure managed to get a foothold a stake a claim in Pop Culture infamy. I would like to see some of her modeling “credentials”. She is the self-proclaimed “First Super Model”. Wasn’t that Betty Page? Of course, Betty died in her “prime” last year at age 85. While, Janice does seem to have quite the “work ethic”, Still plugging away and outlasting Miss Page. I WILL have to say, that her “Overconfidence” while staring her impending decline into senility and dementia IS very entertaining, but. . . she makes me physically ill to actually look at or listen to for an extended period of time.

#3) Paris Hilton – What can I say about her that I haven’t already said? (Not much) “The Heiress that Couldn’t Make me Care Less”, just keeps continuing to pique the world’s interest. If someone could become famous for merely being wealthy, why don’t we care about the Warren Buffet sex tapes? They are pretty scandalous. . . Maybe it’s because it isn’t as SHOCKING. I know, Mr. Buffet gets AROUND. When that whole “Video Bugaboo” happened with such a Morally Upright ‘innocent’ like Paris, it made us ALL pause and take a look at “Where our World had Gone Wrong”. Well, I think that’s what most people did with it on “Pause”. I don’t know. . . she’s a slut. . . NEXT. . .

#2) Rosie O’Donnell
– Who got in “just under the wire” to make the list this year. She lost her “Social Relevance” about the same time she declared that her life was “Socially Relevant”. I am not a “Trump Leg-Hump”, but I have never really understood this lady’s (uh. . .) career. Like when she did the movie “Exit to Eden” in fishnet stockings (yikes). I think the fact that Dan Akroyd was her costar around the same time he made the movie “Nothing But Trouble”, should have been a warning to ANYONE wanting to watch something memorable and/or funny, in the early 90’s, that they (the early part of that decade’s years) just weren’t going to be what we’d hoped. I can’t blame her for Akroyd’s missteps, but I CAN blame her for plenty of other things. I don’t want to talk about the Flintstones, Another Stakeout, or any of her other “turkeys” (yet I just did) But her insistence that her LOVELIFE be the central “theme” of her “career”, just didn’t sit well with me. Not because she’s gay (oh yeah, she’s gay), but because she wanted us to all watch just how GAY was to be DONE. Hey Ro! Here’s a box of Koosh balls, why don’t you take it and entertain some folks on another one of your WILDLY POPULAR “Gay People” CRUISES. . . Or you can send it to your best buddy and (I’m not sure how this works. . . being Gay and all) Crush. . . My TOP SCARY CELEB. . .

#1) Tom Cruise – This “Pint-Sized” Purveyor of Scientology Muckety-Muck and all around Dungeon Master Level 7, “snuck” up through the ranks and Uber-BLASTED into SUPERSTARDOM, right before my eyes. I assume he is just a few years older than me. I remember watching him during my 7th grade English class’s screening of “The Outsiders”. Where’d you go wrong Tom? When did you decide that being the “Dark Overlord of Scientology”, brainwashing a wife and child and single-handedly redefining the word “Creepy”, was where you were “going with all of this”? I think rather than “Peddle Your ‘Religious’ Views” in secret meetings and imparting your LIFE LESSONS on a world that you could surely save. . .if we just understood Muckety Muck like you do, you should focus your attention in not being such an Arrogant and Uniquely Butt-holish Pud-Tugger. . . Now, I don’t think I should have to resort to “Name-Calling” to illustrate my point. (you booger-faced scum sucker) I think you are illustrating that point to anyone that will still “listen” to you. I KNOW I’ve already Blasted Scientology of Late, but I had a final question(s). . . Why do they say “practicing” Scientologist? Is that like a “practicing” Catholic? A “practicing” Alcoholic? A “practicing” homosexual? What is it you’re “dabbling in” Tom? WHY do you need to “Practice”? Is Xenu priming its pump? Is there something that you and R2 would like to share? Did you bring enough for the “Whole Class”? On second thought, I think I’d rather remember you like you were in my 7th grade English class. . . you Scary Freak!


Just for Fun, Here’s the Second List for Your Halloween Enjoyment. . .

TOP TEN “Creepy Ditties” (because I choose to be thinking of them RIGHT NOW)

10) Dream Warriors (Dokken) At the height of Freddy’s popularity in Nightmare on Elm Street, hair band Dokken put this little number out. It is decidedly “awful”. But I enjoy remembering how much I thought this song was da’ bomb.

9) The Bird & the Worm (the Used) A wonderfully creepy intro and “hook”. The song is actually about a kid being abused in school and/or at home, but it is a cool joint. The video is also in the “rad” department, right next to “field hockey” equipment.

8) Dope Show (Marilyn Manson) Very dark and sinister sounding song. I think it speaks to the EVILS in HOLLYWOOD. At least through the eyes of someone that has done more designer drugs than any other human being.

7) Bark at the Moon (Ozzy Osbourne) I take that back. Ozzy’s done more designer drugs AND street drugs than anyone else. But this video is very cool and is EXACTLY the reason why I was banned from liking him as a child.

6) Inside the Fire (Disturbed) You would probably go straight to the Gates of Hell if you were “too into” this song. This is another theatrical brood, making parents’ rear-ends everywhere, “clench up” during the intro.

5) Ghost Town (Shiny Toy Guns) I am including this because it sounds like a Zombie Cheerleader is rapping. Also because my 5 year old daughter thinks this song has got it all and the video is a cartoon, which excites “Her and Me”.

4) Miss Murder (AFI) A LOT of dispute in my house about what this song actually means. My Wife LOVES the lead singer-Davey Havok, who was Adam Lambert long before Adam was. . . except the whole “Gay” thing. (I think) The song has “murder” in the title. . .and it’s catchy.

3) No More Mr. Nice Guy (Alice Cooper) This song has been used a lot in commercials, which would usually dissuade me from endorsing it, but Alice plays golf now, so it kind of makes sense. The video from the Movie “Shocker” (which I LOVE) was awesome.

2) People are Strange (Echo & the Bunnymen) Yes, it was a Doors Song. . . But this rendition was on “The Lost Boys” soundtrack, which is arguably one of the BEST FILMS EVER MADE.(around this time of year) I just like the way this version sounds, because it “takes me back”. Good song, GREAT MOVIE.

1) Thriller (Michael Jackson) The King of Pop (RIP) This would make the list, no matter the year. It just happens to be “THE YEAR”. I hate that I heard the song on a “Halloween Commercial” recently. I guess the “Beatles’ Catalog” is next. I don’t have to say much about this one. Vincent Price, Michael, John Landis, Quincy Jones. . .Magic. . .


. . . Well Everyone, Have a HAPPY AND SAFE HALLOWEEN! Catch you on the “flip side”. . .

‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!

Peace Out – Later

D A N

Neighbors: Wired for Sound & Built for Speed

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on October 26, 2009 by danof89


As a result of a slight “oversight” on my part, I was recently given the privilege of packing up all of our belongings and relocating to a New Neighborhood . The “oversight” occurred when I took a landlord at his WORD. Meaning, 6 months ago, when I saw a FOR RENT sign posted in the front yard of a townhouse (multiple family dwelling) in a “relatively quiet” neighborhood, which was also closer to my place of employment and within my family’s “price range”, AND subsequently decided this was a “stellar opportunity” – I was DEAD WRONG. I assumed the sign meant, “We cordially invite anyone that needs a place to live in a ‘subdued locale’, closer to your job, and in line with your current household budget , to sign a piece of paper enabling you to pay the owner of this property for that Convenience.” . . . Am I crazy, or does that sound like a reasonable assumption? Okay, one thing at a time. I think I DID have the right to “assume” that by giving the Owner of the property the money required to stay in the apartment, I would be able to do so and still consider this my place of residence. . . DEAD WRONG. As far as the “crazy” question? . . . I don’t have any “formal documentation” stating I AM or anything. It seems where I went wrong in my dealings with the Owner, was in thinking he actually “OWNED” the property. Honest mistake. I mean, the other tenants in this townhome/apartment/CRAPSHACK, had all been paying him to call this place HOME, for quite some time. When he asked that I deposit the “rent” in a bank account, because he lived in a town a few “hours” from here, I thought, “Well, that’s easy enough, I guess”.

Okay, I’m not “crazy”, I’m an IDIOT. Did he own the property? Yes. Well, at least he did when we moved in. . . How long that remained the case after we moved in, is somewhat of a mystery and a point of conjecture, contention and unbridled Fury around my “New Digs” . Which is EXACTLY where I find myself RIGHT NOW. Not THERE. . . HERE. Because, the thing my “landlord” failed to mention when I signed my Rental Agreement, was that the REAL OWNER of the property, THE BANK, was foreclosing on the property. As a result, over the last few months I had been depositing the “Rent” in his youngest daughter’s, “Goin’ Clubbin’ in San Fran Fund” . He had absolutely NO intention of telling me, my wife or any of my children, that we were going to be “Kicked to the Curb”. We accidentally found out when a notice was posted on the door, by a wonderfully “chipper” and upbeat Sheriff, stating the Property was going to be going up for PUBLIC AUCTION. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but that set off some “Red Lights”. . . Told you I wasn’t “Crazy”. The next few weeks were spent playing “Phone Tag” with his youngest daughter, who he had NOW assigned to all of his “business dealings”. She was hard to corner. I think I talked to her for about 5 seconds once, when she accidentally picked up the call while snorting the “July Rent” off of the hood of her “newly-leased” Volvo. Since they lived “hours away”(now a very ‘convenient’ location for he and his family’s future well-being) I had to suck it up and call it “Water Under the Bridge”. Personally, I think it is a lot like the water under the bridge in say. . . Venice, Italy. Full of crap and raw sewage, unpleasant to everyone (except tourists) and more of an inconvenience than it’s worth. But just like the water under the bridge in Venice, maybe this “water” is necessary to “get somewhere”. Just like they say, “Things Aren’t Always What They Seem”. . .
Just like the movies The Amityville Horror , Poltergeist or even Funny Farm , there were a pattern of occurrences, set in motion early on, that should have “tipped me off”. . . “Dan you’re NOT CRAZY. . . You’re an IDIOT”. I have a History of poor decision-making skills when it comes to picking out a suitable domicile. But when your net household income is slightly above that of the “grocery cart-pushing crew” , who like to use every single front yard we have ever had as their personal “parking garage”. . . No Lie; your options are “limited”. We’ve got carts from just about every store within a 10 mile radius at our curb. If I wanted to open a Used Cart Lot, I’d make . . . well a little over 3 bucks, I’m sure. As it stands, the stores that OWN the carts send out various “Cart Retrieval Personnel” who make pretty quick work of it, every Monday afternoon. Don’t know why they pick Monday. . . Wait, yes I do. . . Tuesday is “Recycle Day” and Wednesday is “Trash Day”. They probably have a deal with the “Refuse Removal Technicians” to have the curb clear so they can scatter our Trash over a much larger area with errant Refuse-Removal Truck Maneuvering . This allows the “Street Sweeper Technicians” to blow the trash up into our yard on “Street Sweeper Day” (Fridays). Just in time for “I Didn’t Have Anything Better Going on than To Pick up a Block’s Worth of Trash from my Yard On the Weekend” (Saturdays and sometimes Sundays) This sets up our “neighbors” for their Weekend Shopping Excursions. “Hey kids, Jump in a Cart, We’re goin’ Shoppin’!” Then we get to watch like “Shopping Cart Valets” ’til the Garage” reaches capacity around 9AM Monday Morning. All in all, we stay busy. “You can’t park that cart here!”, I’ll say forcefully. “Is that YOUR car?” they respond. . . “Nevermind,” I cower.
All Seriousness Aside. . .
In order that you might have a better understanding of the trials and travails of me and my“Beleaguered Bunch” , I think it best if I share with you some of the choices that we have made in dwellings over the past few years. Keep in mind that we also live in BAKERSFIELD, CALIFORNIA. That alone, sets us back about 50 years and 100 IQ points. I’m telling you this town is FILLED TO THE BRIM with “Vacuous Shells of What Might Have Been Humans. . . at Some Point”. This City (and there truly IS no legitimate term for “Mecca of the Damned”) robs you of any Potential Joy, Dreams or Aspirations, that some might view as “God-given Rights” in any other community. Some might say, “Why don’t you just MOVE?” Easier said than done. This place also has an odd “Black Hole Vortex” thingy going on too. But before I wander too far off course, here’s some of the “lowlights” in the place we’ve called . . . (sigh). . . “Home”. . .
We are what you would call “Economically-Challenged” (poor). I have never had money. I didn’t come from money. I never accumulated riches or wealth (other than my understanding and knowledge-and that doesn’t buy my daughter any Happy Meals at “McBurgers”). My wife didn’t come from money either. To be honest, I don’t know what we would DO if we HAD money. Say, “Thanks”, I guess. But I AM willing to give it a try. . . Because the whole “Not Having Money” thing has been “Done to Death” around our place. But, here we are. I thought it would be “neat” (depressing) to take a look at where we’ve been. . . and where we’re headed. . .

The “Green” House –
That’s where my wife and 3 of my 4 kids lived about 7 years ago (my wife became pregnant a year later-yes, with my child). When I moved in, it was into a GI-style housing unit in Oildale (a “barrio” of Bakersfield – known for its quaint older neighborhoods and a Rabid Arian charm ). It is also where I became familiar with what is known as . . . “The Tweaker” . A group of individuals who use Methamphetamines. When I say “use”, I mean USE. It is actually quite scary, and I’m pretty sure that I’ve heard that Bakersfield is like the Capital of “Crystal Meth” in California. . . I don’t know if they get that information when they do the Census, or what. But ALL of our Neighbors were “amped” ALL the time. . . Actually, they slept all DAY, but at Night, the streets of Oildale were teaming with the “Meth-Head Undead”. It was like Tweaker Zombie Heaven . I don’t know what these people did at night, but they kept “busy”. We would stay inside, peering out of the peephole in the door until the sounds “went away”. This is also when I became aware of the Megan’s Law Website. Wow. . . The first time we searched our neighborhood in its database, I thought we were going to wipe out a “Grid” like on Ghostbusters or SO overtax the system, that we’d have Federal Agents breaking down our doors to see how we were able to raise the Nation’s Terror Alert manually from a Home PC.

The “Lake” House –
My wife had lived her ENTIRE life in “Bako”, and as a result, we thought we’d “switch things up” by moving OUT of Bakersfield for a while. We spent the nest 3 plus years in a “town” about 45 miles from here. It was near a Lake-Side community in the mountains. It was picturesque. . . it was HELL. We had only accomplished finding the exact same Oildale community living in the HILLS. Tweakers were more rampant here than in Bakersfield. The only difference? This time they had Roscoe and Enos trying to regulate their evening “Activities”. The area was also popular for retiring LAPD Drug Enforcement Officers who apparently had ONE HELLUVA PENSION. I can’t imagine “How” they could have come across all the money it took to build their Million Dollar Estates about 20 minutes away from the “White South-Central of the Golden Empire”. (They call this area the Golden Empire. . . I guess to “soften” the blow). I worked at a Hardware Store (about the only gig in town). And as many of you know, I’m not mechanically inclined. I was placed in charge of “Lumber Movement” . This essentially consisted of me moving various boards to different areas of the store and occasionally to customer’s cars. Eventually, I took over sporting goods. (2 aisles of balls, water toys and coolers). By the time we moved, I was working with patio furniture and propane. (not simultaneously) But Hank Hill would have been proud. Did I mention I hate Rednecks? As far as the Neighborhood went: We had a Neighbor who was the combination of Fred Sanford and Ned Flanders on the Simpsons. He sold Antique” Travel Trailers that he purchased on Ebay and had a wife that was INSANE. . .We would often hear them arguing about “God”. I never saw him go to “Church”. I think they bought their God on Ebay too. We also lived down the street from a Biker Bar called “Smugglers”. I liked to call it a Gay Biker Bar called “Snugglins”, but I didn’t do that anywhere near the actual establishment. Right behind us was the “Shady Pines Trailer Park and RV Cemetary”. The couple that managed the site, also fought constantly about various things VERY LOUDLY. The fights would typically end with him taking off in his truck, when she came outside brandishing a shotgun. The sheriff assured us it wasn’t “loaded”, but I never really knew for sure. When my youngest child arrived, we stayed “inside” most of the time. But whenever I drove by “Snugglins” , I’d see the neighbor’s truck and the Sheriff’s car. . . Hmm. Though we had about an acre of land, we thought it best to “stay close to one another”. . . Especially when “Donnie” (the Head Tweaker in the area)decided blowing up his trailer across the street while “cooking up a batch” was somehow a GOOD idea. Eventually we had seen enough of the Lake (we went to the actual “lake” about 6 times while living there), and decided we’d head back to our “comfort zone”. . . Bakersfield.

Her “Mom’s” House –
Brief stint, ending with me in the Hospital with “stomach problems” and lasting about a month. (the living there part, I STILL have stomach problems – more than likely, unrelated)

The “Apartment’ –
Probably the “Biggest Cast of Characters” of any of our sojourns, this place had it ALL. We lived in a 2 bedroom apartment (keep in mind there are 6 of us – No it’s NOT legal. We always had an Anne Frank thing going on with our oldest son) We had Laundry “facilities”. We were back in “the ‘Dale”! So there were Oilfield Workers sharing our washers and dryers. This quite often led to our clothes having large black stains on them and my older daughter going to school crying, because some neanderthal’s “work rag” was caught in a lint trap and ruined her “skinny jeans” . We were also introduced to two elderly gentleman, who typified why “Megan’s Law” was enacted. First there was “Diaper Man”. A man who would sit outside of his apartment in his “Depend Undergarments” . This was convenient for us, because for our “viewing pleasure”, he would quite often not “fasten” the adhesive very well and “Slick Willy”,would make a surprise appearance. Since his apartment was between ours and the Laundry room, we were treated to this “Eye Candy” quite regularly. . . There was also “Dried and Crusty Dude”. He was an old pervert that lived across from our apartment and found the need to stare at my wife and the kids every time they were outside of our apartment. (We kept the blinds “SUPER-Closed” while inside). For the record, he (Dried & Crusty) never approached any of them; if he had, I would be writing this from jail. Then there were the downstairs neighbors: VERY LOUD Meth Dealers , who had their weapons, drugs and prostitutes in and out of their apartment at ALL hours. Day AND night. They “Tweaked” in shifts. I guess it was more profitable that way. There were the next door neighbors with two ADHD Kids . LOUD. The wife outweighed the husband by about 300 pounds , yet through some feat of Herculian Strength , he was still able to bounce her off of every “common” wall in that place. (common walls, for those who’ve never had the pleasure, are paper thin walls “dividing” cheap-ass rooms- Like in a Motel 6 ) There was the older man and his mother living downstairs, whom I hadn’t seen in nearly a week and when I reported it to the Management, found out his mother had been out of town and he had been dead for about 3 days. That’s a smell that doesn’t go away. There were also the homeless people sleeping in the bushes and shrubs surrounding some of the empty apartment buildings in our “complex”. I also understand why they call them that. Not homeless people. That’s pretty easy to figure out. I mean people with a “complex”. We have had a “COMPLEX” ever since we lived there. “What are they doing?” or “What’s HE up to?”. . . nice. . . Oh, I mustn’t forget the fact that we had to go without Hot Water about every other week, because of what Management called, “Old Pipes” . As soon as we could afford it, we soon said GOODBYE to this place as well. . .

I’ve ALREADY told you about our latest “mini-disaster” . Which leads me to this. . .

Back to the ‘Dale!

We’re back in Oildale. In a “cute” little cubby of a Neighborhood. They even take their Christmas lights down here during Non-Christmas Celebratory Time Periods. We are between 3 interesting areas. A Railroad, an Airport and Highway 99. I’m too worried to look up the Megan’s Law site right now. It’s difficult to tell if its going to be a good move or a bad one. . . just yet. I do find a large number of “grown men” riding bicycles, which means they are (a) too poor to own a vehicle (b) unable to “legally” drive a vehicle (c) getting some exercise and saving the planet. I’ll let you choose. . . I saw one yesterday riding his bike , while holding another one at his side and steering it. “Oildale Tow Truck” ? But the evenings DO offer Motorcycle racing. People come from wealthy parts of town to race on our street. I guess we have the “Best Quarter-Mile Flat track in all of Kern County” (I don’t know what that really means) The nights so far have been relatively “quiet”. But I have a feeling that we haven’t gotten the “Full-On Welcome Wagon” treatment yet. I’m waiting for the guy next door, with the RV in his yard parked on years of dead grass and the Z-28 up on blocks to start working on it at 3 in the morning while listening to “Death Metal” at “Volume Setting Eleven” . Tweakers have to stay “busy”,apparently, and they enjoy LOUD. I’m telling you, you haven’t “arrived” in “Bako’ “ until you get a load of these guys. . . New Neighbors: Wired for Sound and Built for “Speed” . . .

‘Til Later. . . Go Figg’r! (awesome new theme song)

Peace Out – Later

D A N
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L. Ron Hubbard: HOLLYWOOD’S RACIST NOSTRADUMBASS

Posted in comedy, Entertainment, humor, satire, Uncategorized with tags on October 24, 2009 by danof89

To My Readers: I have been working on this “bit” for nearly a week. As I do from time to time around here, I thought I would talk about a “Hot Button” Issue. . . Racism. I also wanted to inject a little humor and introduce a subject that, to some of you, might be new: The Views of L. Ron Hubbard on different races. You can’t make Racism funny or, at least, I can’t. I hope you find this offering, at the least, quasi-informative and somewhat amusing. I hope you “Get it”. . .
I Have a Theory. . .
I think that White People are Stereotyped and Typecast in HOLLYWOOD, the same way that people of other races are. They are typically grouped into One of the Following:
FOUR KINDS of White People :