Where have all the atheletes gone?

I'm not sure who among you recall the Gatorade ads of the 80's and 90's. I sure don't. At least not this way. Does anybody else seem to find the photo's and phrases in these ads to be not just bad and corny, but also a little, I don't know, homo-erotic?

You decide.

Baked apple

What happened to Apple's quality standards? According to this ad from 1982, an Apple ][ owner form Lynn / Ohio Corporation (Has anybody aver heard of Lynn / Ohio before, or know why it would be beneficial to mention their name in an ad?) took one of the company computers home for the holidays.

I'm sure it filled the back of his Plymouth Reliant, no doubt, but either way, while he was out eating turkey his cat picked a fight with the lamp and ended up starting a fire that melted his television set and computer together.

No word on weather the cat survived, but if it did, rest assured, he probably killed it when he realized he'd be liable for the company equipment.

With a hope and a prayer (for the cat maybe?) he took the melted circuitry to the closest computer store and suprisingly it still ran. With a new case and keyboard he was back in business, although his cubicle continued to smell of burned cat hair.

Now, I love my apple devices just as much as the next guy, but if I accidentally left my iPod in the car on a hot day it might not work ever again. There's no way my iMac would survive a lick of flame.

Maybe the price we pay for these devices to work like magic and look so darn sexy, is that they aren't quite as durable as their chubby ancestors.

Fair enough.

Jenny Jones in the 14th century

I'm not really sure what this means. I can only assume that this settler was caught fornicating with a porpoise, which of curse negated their prenuptial agreement.

I always thought that Mermaids would be a little more generous and forgiving than human kind, but I guess the woman comes out in all forms of man-like creatures.

It also appears that rather than showing up with her new boyfriend (his brother) and piling her half of their marital assets in the back of his Ford Bronco, she opted to enchant them and have them merrily follow her to the Sea Condo.

How civil of her.

Those probably aren't his kids anyway.

I'm back

I know it's been a long time since I've posted. I'm sure some of you have been experimenting with steroids and train dodging in a feudal attempt to fill the void left by my absence.

Well, my friend, untie yourself from the iron rails, pull the needle out of your butt and fire up the old naked lady machine, because I'm back.

Where have I been you ask?

Here and there, I guess. I spent some time spelunking in an abandoned diamond mine near the south african town of Ngilambile which apparently means "I'm hungry" in the native language Zulu.

Here's a quick sketch I did of my guide Dashiki while we were exploring.
He kept yelling "Kumjoni Yebu!" while I was sketching which I later found out meant "Help me, man who is white like soapstone," and not "Hee, hee, that tickles," as I originally thought.

From there I went on to may other places, some of which I might explain further in a later post, but we'll save those until I'm no longer in litigation.

Are your balls big enough?

Are you ready for a new extreme sport? Yeah Right! You could never be ready for an extreme sport this…well…extreme. This sport is so bad-ass it makes sky diving, skateboarding and mountain climbing seem as exciting and dangerous as balloon sculpting. If you're one of those "down for whatever," "living on the edge," kind of guys, you need to try out this psycho-crazy sport. But do you have big enough balls for "Extreme Hammocking?"


This guy's pulling off a tight "crounched-eagle-backflip."




Here's a classic "Lazybones" over the clinic stairs. He's definitely trespassing!




Here comes Johnny Law! Better bolt dude!




If you're thinking about trying out your wicked skills, don't try this! This guy's a pro. He's attempting one of the hardest tricks known only as "Bloody Rails."




Can you say AIR? This guy's tearing up the streets. Have you ever seen a skateboarder do any trick with 35 ft of air?




This Bro is totally wreck'in the bridge with an "Inverted Sleepy Camper!"

Another Amphibious car

What is the world coming to? Not only is there a company making busses and cars that can drive in water, but there is actually competition for your business as potential water–car buyers. This is a video from yet another amphibious car company. More info at watercar.com

Beggars can be choosers.

The last few mornings as I ride into work on the bus I've noticed a popular place for beggars to hang out. I also noticed that it's rarely the same guy as the day before.

That got me pondering the social etiquette of the bum. Or maybe it would be business ethics of the bum. Either way, the questions started invading my head like ants when you leave a half eaten pizza on the couch all weekend.

So how do they decide who gets which spot to beg for the day? I assume it's a first come first serve type of deal, but there has to be some competition for the prime locations. What happens if two bums get there at the same time? Do they play rock–paper–scissors? Best 2 out of 3? Maybe there's a sign up list under the Mississippi river bridge.

To keep the homeless guys from making each other toothless too, we as a society should put together a code or statute to govern these affairs.

Here's what I propose:

1. All locations will be assessed for their profitability and given a rank according to average daily earnings.
Tier 1: $0–$2.35
Tier 2: $2.35–$5.35
Tier 3: $5.35 and up
2. All locations will be given a number and a lottery draw system will be established.
3. No Bum can have a tier 3 location more than 2 days in a row.
4. Bums must pay an 18% tax on all earnings and 65% tax on all earnings above the daily average for that location to pay for the administrative positions needed to run such a system.

The daddle

With fathers day just around the corner excitement is in the air. So what does every father want on this joyous occasion?
To be ridden like Dusty the wild stag.


Enter the Daddle–a "Saddle for Dad." Complete with adjustable stirrups and soft padded saddle horn for little Jimmy's comfort. And for Dad's comfort there's little more than some flimsy knee pads (they call them horse shoes for humans) that are sold separately.

Sold for just under $50, this is sure to catch on with rich little brats who already control their parents in every way and now seek to physically dominate them.

Available at www.cashelcompany.com.
Also make sure to check out their Bedroom Slippers for horses. Apparently horses hooves get cold when they get out of bed in the morning too.

The Magic School Bus– almost

No visit to the Great Lakes Aquarium could be complete without driving through one of them on your way there. Before the HYDRA-TERRA made by Cool Amphibious Manufacturers International (CAMI), doing so usually resulted in having to drag the harbor for bodies.

This boat… er… bus could even be used for search and rescue of the aforementioned field trip participants.

They've mastered water. Now they have to find a way to make it travel into the human body and around the bloodstream.
I think I should start a business providing a place for people to take magic bus tours.

I could charge them at least five dollars to drive around in my sinuses. Then if that goes well I could expand and open my stomach and even my lower digestive system to those curious grade schoolers. Maybe make a nice picnic area for the kids in my pituitary gland.

I've heard the real money is in the merchandise, so I guess I'd have to open a gift shop in my belly button, as soon as it heals. But we'll see how things go.

The reproductive system is definitely off limits though. That's just sick.

Fun With Captions!

6 Patrons of the Pluck-N-Cluck Turkish Spa. Enjoy 5 star services such as hot oil baths, deep tissue flavor injections and the finest cavity stuffing in the business. Book now for a FREE PLUCKING!


I hope the doctor doesn't assume that just because I drove Nanna to the hospital means I'm responsible for putting the hamster up there.


The Main Showroom of Surplus Kidney Liquidaters. Call 1-800-555-6421 to find a store near you or log on to SurplusKidneyLiquidators.com. Great tax breaks for donators!

Our roads are full of Nazi's.

The Autobahn isn't the only road full of nazi's according to WWII propaganda posters. But does this message apply today? With oil prices at an all time high, and shortages on the horizon, it seems quite fitting. But who is Hitler (besides Bill Gates)? Is it the Oil companies? Is it the countries that export oil to us?

Whoever it is, they must be very pleased. As I drive to work in the morning (with my brother) I can't help but notice all the people driving alone.

I'm all for propaganda, and I often wonder if propaganda like this would have a place in modern society. Something that offends you and makes you feel guilt might have done well in the 40's, but how would it effect people today who simply don't-for lack of a better term– give a rats %#!*?

How would you feel driving down the highway in your Ford Excursion if you saw a billboard that said "When you ride alone, you ride with Osama Bin Laden."

Maybe you wouldn't think much of it. Maybe it would be better if it said "When you ride alone you behead a journalist."

Maybe the reason we don't see things like that is because we live in a society that doesn't want to accept blame. We would rather put it on the auto manufacturers to fix the world. It's certainly much easier than having to change the way we live.

It's up to you to form your opinion about the matter. I just want to see more propaganda.

Doggie Bag

Alright! Masters putting his shoes on. I wonder if I get to go with him? Maybe if I stand near him and give him puppy dog eyes he'll take me with. Yes–it worked. I wonder where we'll go? Maybe he'll take me to the meat packing factory again. Hey what's that? Why is he…no…wait…STOP. This isn't funny! I can't breathe. That's it! You better check your pillow tonight before you go to sleep, cause I'm planning on leaving mint on it.

Jerk.



The first one is just plain wrong, but this one seems pretty funny. I think if I had a stuffy corporate job (and I spoke German) I'd have to get one.

See the other products including manicured dishwashing gloves at:
http://www.intimsport.de/index.htm

Look out lady!!

I understand the need to let your consumers know that you carry big sizes, but this is a little much. I think we can all imagine the difference between small and 4XL, without imagining this poor petite, being devoured as a mid day snack.

Why do I punish myself?

It was Monday night. The night of all the season finales. Yet due to some strange aversion to "The New Adventures of Old Christine" I find my self channel surfing. Channel surfing is always a bad idea for me because I usually get sucked in to the little giant ladder infomercial or some terrible movie. This night it was the latter.

The Station was OLN (Outdoor Life Network) which is usually pretty safe. But tonight they were playing a 1986 movie called "Youngblood." I must admit, it was Seeing Rob Lowe with a tooth missing that set the hook and had me say OOH, this could be good! I couldn't have been more wrong. Now I grew up in the 80's and I cherish all the nostalgia as much as the next guy with a side-spike hair do. But I don't remember hockey being a sport with so few rules.

If you've never seen the movie, you've surely succeeded in avoiding much displeasure. But to keep you from being sucked in to the slow motion filming an rad 80's Casio keyboard beats, here's an overview of the film. Or at least the last 10 minutes of the film.

tuned in at the climax of the game, which was tied. Rob Lowe who played "Youngblood," a sort of fancy skating Nancy-Pansy, had taken a dive drawing a penalty shot with 3 seconds left in the game. It could have even been overtime for all I know.

The next scene was an assault on the senses as Youngblood danced about on the ice twirling and kicking the puck as he went (is that legal?). I'm sure you can imagine what the music sounded like during this montage. He fakes out opposing goalie (donning the timeless skull goalie mask) and scores a goal.

But Young blood still has a score to settle. With three seconds on the clock the coach tries to pull Youngblood from the game to keep him from getting beaten retarded, but he refuses saying "I'm not coming off. I won't do it."

I was about to change the channel when the coach readily agreed and added the comment "watch your stick!"

Watch your stick? What could that mean? I have to find out.

Another folly indeed.

As the ref drops the puck between Youngblood and his nemesis Racki, played by some bearded overzealous fool, they swat it away and continue staring each other down unmoving until the buzzer sounds.

I could have never imagined what would happen next. Racki and youngblood engaged in some sort of hockey stick sword fight. It looked more like poorly choreographed stick slapping, but it was a sword fight indeed. Complete with the staged ending where the good guy swats the sword (stick) out of the bad guys hands and then puts his sword (stick) to the others neck. But they decided to go with the extended ending. Racki, unashamed by his stick slapping performance, tells Youngblood where to stick his…stick.

Now this is the frustrating part where the good guy could just whack him in the throat and never have to deal with the hairy buffoon again, but instead decides to throw away his sword (stick) and his advantage along with it. Here's the exciting boxing scene–Yes!

No.

They stood like drunken old men with their hands fisted like Irishman. Shouting such menacing remarks as "Give me your best shot!" and "Come on Butthead!" Occasionally trying to punch each other, but with the aggression one would use in trying to remove an eyelash that has fallen on their lovers cheek.

Now keep in mind, the game is already over. Periodically they cut to show people in the audience like the coaches daughter who is also Youngblood's girlfriend, or the ref who's standing there watching the whole thing unfold.

After a few punches are thrown Racki goes down and the team proceeds to pick Youngblood up and carry him around the rink, with the help of the ref of course.

The movie ends with Youngblood standing on center ice after everyone left and the bloods been mopped up. As he's about to leave, a couple of 10 year old kids come out and tell him what a great job he did fighting. Never mind the game, that was just a footnote. The fight was what they came to see. I think one of them maybe even put some money down on him hoping to get a good return on the 26 to 1 odds.

Either way, you now have enough ammo to shoot down any request by your friends to rent youngblood.

The Veggie Backlash…

I thought it only fair to share the other side of the Meat vs. Vegetable debate. I think the National Vegetarian Association's 1948 response to the meat posters explain their whole argument.

Reassurance for Meat lovers

Some of us meat eaters can't help but feel a little guilt sometimes for being, well, meat eaters. We see all the studies on how unhealthy it is for us, and how we can live longer if we'd just ban the bologna. There's an awful lot of pressure to make the switch what with all the mad cow running amuck. There's studies that link eating cooked meat to cancer, heart disease, obesity, and even gingivitis. It's an argument so powerful that one in three americans are practicing vegetarianism today. Okay, I made that up, but one of my three friends is a semi-vegetarian. He only eats hot-dogs.



I say it's time to let the american people know they aren't alone. I say we look our fellow meatetarians in the face and lie like car salesmen, to reassure each other that it's okay to like meat. It's time we forget about the so-called facts and figures. I'm sure all those studies were probably funded by carrot farmers anyway. Let's resurrect the pro-meat propaganda.


Some of you might say I don't have platform to stand on. But who needs a platform to stand on when we are flying high on a blimp made of Salisbury steak, chicken fried chicken and only the finest cuts of shoulder pork.

Walk down a suburban grocery isle and you'll find at lest a dozen phony meat products made from hey and seaweed. It's only natural that other foods would want to be as tasty as sausage and hamburgers–not that they ever could–but have you ever seen a carrot substitute made of hamburger? Probably not. If you have, shoot me an e-mail and let me know where I can get some.



We should learn a lesson from these 1947 American Meat Institute posters. That lesson is that meat can't be beat. You don't even have to cook it. But if you do, make sure you grill it in butter and pineapple juice and then simmer it in barbecue sauce.

Ahh, the first ever posting.

I'd like to preface this entry with an explanation of what you might find here. I am by no means a writer, in fact I question weather or not I want to live in a society where people who know as little about the English language as I can publish such nonsense.

Nevertheless, here I go.

Occasionally as I'm flipping through the channels I'll come across professional wrestling. Sometimes I do a sort of channel flipping double take as I ask my self did I really just see a 300 lb. sweaty guy wearing spandex make a stomping noise with his foot as he pretends to punch the other even sweatier guy wearing a mesh shirt? As I back track a few channels I am delighted to find out that there was a third guy in the corner with a pet squirrel on his shoulder throwing pine nuts at the referee.

Within 5 seconds of arriving back on that channel, my wife chimes in "CHANGE IT." I don't know how she does it. she could be in the garage and I'll still hear "CHANE IT". She seems to have a radar that goes off whenever professional wrestling is being viewed within a 3 block radius. That might account for the unexplained "pfffft" sounds she makes every once in a while.

Anyway, it got me thinking. Some of those old wrestlers seemed pretty cool to me when I was young. Take Hacksaw Jim Duggan for instance. You can't go wrong with this guy. I suppose anyone wearing purple spandex undies in public would have to be carrying a 2X4 so as not to get beat silly. But he still looked pretty mean anyway. I wonder how often he had to get a new 2X4? Do you think he was real particular, like weather it was really straight or if it had lots of knots?

Then there was George the Animal Steel. Do you think he had to reimburse the WWF for all the turnbuckles he ate?

With every old wrestler I thought about, a slew of new questions arose. I guess I'll just stick to watching SCRUBS.