Tag Archives: humor

April 14, 2017 · 3:04 pm

May the Bird of Paradise Fly Up Your Nose!

I was planning to write a piece about insult humor for a while, and then Don Rickles had to up and die… that danged old hockey puck!’Don-Rickles-tribute

So the master of insults is gone, and it will be even harder to explain why calling someone a proud and prissy poo-poo head is not a bad thing to do.  Because, really… strong language is not really strength and it takes intelligence to be a mean little picky-wit. (No pun intended… because no pun was used,  Duh!  How slow are you compared to molasses around Christmas time?)

You may have heard me say that I don’t like hurtful humor.  I don’t believe bad words are required to make something funny. I don’t think humor should be weaponized.  Jokes that make you die laughing are too much like murder, and people who have no sense of humor can’t be hurt by them anyway.

It is true that some people can’t be touched with insult humor.  Republicans and conservatives generally never get the joke.  Unfortunately for them you have to be at least a little bit smart to even know when you are being made fun of.

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I have heard that Kim Jong Un and President Orangutan in a Bad Wig recently attempted to assassinate each other.  Trump had a specially trained batch of a dozen Easter chicks sent to Kim Jong Un.  They were trained as mini-ninja assassins specializing in the death-peck attack.  Kim had a dozen plump Korean beauties dressed up in bikinis and poisoned lipstick sent to Trump with orders to make him fall in love.  Shortly thereafter Kim sent a thank you note to Trump for the delicious chickens.  He had kept one as a pet and you can still see it sitting on top of his head if you look carefully enough.  (It hasn’t killed him because it mistaked his head for an egg, adopted it, and is trying desperately to hatch it.)  Trump, in turn, re-gifted the bikini babes to Mike Pence, and it is likely they will die of cold and exposure while waiting in his outer office.

Stupid people are immune to insults, karma, and consequences.

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So you don’t insult people as a form of humor  to hurt anyone physically… or even psychologically.  You only do it metaphorically to pay them the compliment of thinking them worthy enough to bestow the gems of your wit upon.

And if you believe any of that bull-puckie, I may know of a Bridge in Brooklyn I’d be willing to part with cheaply.

So, there you have it.  Cheap laughs at the expense of doody-heads.  And calling into question the self-importance and the ridiculous-but-strongly-held political beliefs of others… especially the dumb ones can be a public service… of sorts.

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April 12, 2017 · 3:03 pm

Triple Down Bummers Now Come in Grape Flavor

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You heard me right.  Grape flavor.  Specifically sour grape flavor.

I put my family on an airplane today to go be with my oldest son while he has surgery.

I get to stay home with the family dog because my back is hurting so fiercely from weather and arthritis that I can’t possibly spend hours on a plane.

So, sour grapes.

You know the Aesop’s Fable about the fox and the grapes?

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The fox, seeing the luscious grapes, tries to leap and get the grapes.  He is hungry for the grapes.  Ravenous for the grapes.  But no matter how hard he tries, he cannot reach the grapes with his snapping jaws.

He buys a trampoline from Acme.  But it sproings him over the tree and into the river on the other side… where there are alligators.  (Yeah, I exaggerate here… but in my life there always seem to be alligators.)  He still can’t get the grapes.

So then he goes to Home Depot and buys a chainsaw to cut down the tree.  But when he tries to rev up the chainsaw he realizes… he’s a fox.  He doesn’t have hands.  He has paws.  He can’t work the chainsaw.  And on top of that, his credit card is denied because he’s a fox and his job only pays in dead mice and rabbits, and chainsaws cost money, not mice.  So Home Depot sent a Sheriff’s Deputy to arrest him for stealing the chainsaw.  And it turns out that in spite of consumer complaints, Home Depot has signed a huge chainsaw deal with Acme, so the chainsaw explodes because he tried to start it with fox paws.  And as he is flying through the air from the explosion towards the river with alligators… he realizes… grapes don’t grow on trees.  There has to be something wrong with those grapes.  They must be sour.

Now, this is exactly the way Aesop told the story.  Believe me.  It really, really sucks to be a fox and not be able to get what you want in life.

This surgery is a big thing.  But it is not life threatening.  My son will be fine.  My family will be able to go places and do stuff while they visit and entertain him.  It is like an extra family vacation.  His grandmother (my mother) and his aunt (my sister) have both had the same surgery for the same reason.  They both came through it and came out cured.  But the problem is most likely genetic.  So, not only do I not get to go and be with my family on this trip, the bummer reason for the trip is genetically probably my fault.     Yep, there are alligators in that danged old river.

I get these benefits only from the sour grapes; I get a lonely week to recover from alligator bites for myself, and I definitely have something to write about for today.

 

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April 11, 2017 · 10:20 am

Stardusters… Canto 42

Canto Forty-Two – On the Surface of Galtorr Prime Near the Crash Site

The landed Golden Wing Thirteen was completely surrounded by crazed scabbies with diseased mouths dripping saliva and venom, and wild eyes filmed over in a most unpleasant manner.  They gibbered at the crew of the wing without advancing further.  Several of the Telleron soldiers were good shots, but it was Harmony Castille’s weapon skills that had skortched half a hundred slavering lizard-scabbies.  That kind of brutal accuracy gave even the mindless scabbies pause when it was time to charge again.

“We need to fly out of here, Harmony!” said Shalar.  “With this many creatures here, the tadpoles could not have survived.”

“Nonsense!  We did not find their bodies in the wreckage.  My kids are alive.  Davalon and Tanith are too good and too smart to fall to these mindless lizard-things.  We just have to find them.”

“But we are outnumbered!” wailed Studpopper.

“They are using their claws and teeth to fight us.  We can vaporize them with these skortch rays.  There are only half as many now as there were when they first attacked.”

“But we’ve lost half our men already,” argued Studpopper.  “They have guns, some of them, and we don’t know how many more of them are out there.”

“Look at those idiots over there with guns in their holsters,” said Harmony.  “They are not even using them!  I don’t think they are smart enough to even realize that they have guns.”  To emphasize her point, Harmony blazed away with her skortch pistol at three of the lizard-men with guns and disintegrated them totally.

“You are right,” agreed Shalar, “about all of it, but we don’t know why these creatures are so stupid.   There may be smarter ones out there somewhere.  In fact, there have to be.”  Shalar skortched two more scabbies who were equally as stupid as the ones they skortched before.  “Why do you suppose they are so mindless?”  Shalar asked.

“Look at them,” said Harmony.  “They are covered in sores and wounds.  Their eyes are filmy.  I think they are sick.  Probably from this foul air that we have to wear the breath-masks for.”

Shalar nodded.  It was obvious that Harmony was right.  These walking horrors were out of their blogwopping minds.  But they were too stupid to be afraid and run away also.  That complicated things.

“Let’s charge the mass of them over there,” said Harmony, pointing with her weapon at a group of about thirty of the creatures.  “We take out all of them, and then we’ll have them outnumbered.

“Lead the way,” said Shalar.  Harmony was their best hope.  She was easily the best war-leader Shalar had ever met.  Sunday school on Earth was certainly a very effective place to learn small group combat tactics and strategy.  How lucky the Tellerons had been to escape from Earth without every engaging Sunday-school-trained military units!

With a great roar, Harmony lead the twelve remaining Tellerons to the group of shuffling scabbies she had targeted for the assault.  The confused lizard-men disintegrated into the surrounding air so quickly and so efficiently that it was obvious the Tellerons would not only win this battle, but they would clear the entire area of scabbies in minutes.  The rescue mission was looking more and more like a possible success.

*****

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April 8, 2017 · 4:05 pm

New Stuff Happens Here

Well, Spring is sproinging with a great green ferocity.  The wisteria that is eating the corner of the house by the pool is blooming.  The pool is full of winter rainwater and must be drained before it begins to bloom millions of mosquitoes.

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So, I rented a pump and started to drain the swamp.  (Yes, I know I could make a joke here about somebody orange who promised to drain the swamp and is instead putting swamp monsters in it…  He got his Supreme Court Scalia Dragon added to the murky deeps of dollar politics yesterday… but I won’t because I hate how the Twitter Baby in Chief is always filling my perceptions with dirty diaper business.)

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I collected some neat new Pez dispensers by stopping at Toys-R-Us to use the restroom halfway through my daily rush-hour trek to pick up my son from his school in Lewisville.

I found Fluttershy to complete the My Little Pony set, and I picked up all three of the Smurfs.  Brainy Smurf is my favorite Smurf because I like the way he constantly gets put down when he is trying to be too smart for his own britches.  It’s really nice when that happens to somebody who isn’t me.

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And when, at midday, I got so stuck in traffic I had to stop and take a break in Hobby Lobby’s air conditioning, I found some HO scale dragons, Pegasus, and a unicorn to add to the denizens of Toonerville.

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So life has generally been good to me, even when it is a little bit bad.

 

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April 7, 2017 · 3:05 pm

Here We Go Doopy Doo

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I am tired of making fun of President CheetoHead.  There is no challenge in it.  John Oliver, Stephen Colbert, Seth Meyers, Trevor Noah, and Samantha Bee have made all the best jokes already.  If you are not sure who those people are, they are late night talk show hosts and comedians who do political news humor… you know, the only fact-based no-BS news you can get nowadays.  Really?  You haven’t heard of those people before?  Let me ask you this, then… Do you think we should bomb Agrabah to defeat ISIS?

But there has to be some sort of response to the Syrian gas attack on small children beyond the thirty minutes of hopeless weeping I did after watching the news yesterday.  The Great Orange Face showed off his testosterone levels yesterday by shooting Tomahawk missiles at an air base in Syria over that attack.  “This was all Obama’s fault,” he said.  Of course, Trump didn’t consult the Congress or any other world powers first, not even Putin.  Each Tomahawk missile costs $1.59 million dollars, so firing 59 of them at that air base cost us a total of $93.8 million dollars.  Think of how many Mar a Lago golf weekends that could have financed!  And what did it accomplish?  We were very careful to warn the Russians ahead of time so they wouldn’t be in the targeted area, and the Russians are Syrian allies in the war against the rebels who were gassed.  So the two Syrian air-base janitors we killed with those missiles must’ve been really hard to kill.  They had to be exploded 59 times.

And how do you stop war crimes against children by bombing janitors and empty runways anyhow?

But who am I to criticize?  My conservative Republican friends tell me I am an unpatriotic liberal idiot for not supporting Trump’s actions as Commander in Chief.  I admit it.  I am not a fountain of military knowledge and wisdom.  But I would still rather see hissy fits against war criminals acted out against the war criminals instead of empty buildings and innocent civilians.  And when they are through with Bush and Cheney, they should go after President Assad too.

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But, as long as all we are going to do about it is go “Doopy Doo!” in a really off-key singing voice, I might as well show you what I found in the garage.  This is my Alcoa Century Diesel (with 100 cylinders in the real engine) which I found in the garage while cleaning.  It is my biggest engine in HO scale, painted red, yellow, and silver in an official Santa Fe railroad pattern.  I had to show that to you before Trump gets to the verse, “Here we go Doofy Lie!”  And so, the song goes on.

 

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April 6, 2017 · 11:37 am

Rescuing Rolling Stock

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Welcome to Toonerville’s Mountain Station atop lovely, snowy Church Mountain.  The Snowball Express is just pulling out.

I believe I may have mentioned in recent posts that part of the joy of cleaning the garage after a long illness left it in a nightmare shambles of boxes and old toys and stuff we really need to throw out, is that I found the boxes with the remnants of my old HO model train layout.  Now I am busy rescuing, repairing, and photographing the pieces of Toonerville that I have dug out of the trash piles.

In the picture from Mountain Station, you see the billboard boxcar and the old caboose I managed to pluck out of one of the boxes that heavy stuff had been tossed on top of.

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Smokey Joe, the engine number 99, is pulling the 1890’s Pullman passenger car and mail car that will soon pull into Mountain Station.

The two Pullman train cars that I rescued from the same box as the billboard boxcar are both built from kits back when I was in college and had my train set in the basement at home in Iowa.

You may have noticed the mysterious mansion up the mountainside from the Methodist Church that gives the mountain its name.  No one knows for sure what the two weird, big-nosed men currently living up there are up to, but lately there has been a lot of barking filling the air.  The lights are on in the mansion currently.  Maybe someone brave should go up there and investigate.

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Here’s a better look at the side of the Pullman Passenger car as it zooms past the church.

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The Super Chief is pulling its passenger observation car and its gondola car toward the station also.  Santa Fe’s finest passenger service also goes fast.

I bought the Super Chief engine at a train show in San Antonio in the middle 90’s.  The passenger cars I have had since I was in high school, circa 1974.

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The F-9 diesel freight hauler is pulling a lumber car and the old caboose.

The blue F-9 is the same kind of engine as the Super Chief.  It was originally part of the set my father bought for himself when he retired.  He intended to build a layout in the basement at the farmhouse when he moved back to Iowa.  He finally gave it up, though, and gave it to my sons and me as a gift.  I found it in the box in the garage.  It looks like it probably still runs.  The Union Carbide lumber car was on the back porch in the mess left behind when my father-in-law’s house burned down and he piled the salvaged stuff there.  It was in a box with old salvaged kitchen goods that managed not to burn.  It still needs serious cleaning.  My caboose is missing its back wheels and the trucks the wheels ride on is broken.

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Cruella DeVille’s roadster was spotted near the mysterious old mansion.  It is very possible something bad is going on up there.  

Of all the many things I have to get done before I schlepp off this mortal coil stage right, rescuing my HO rolling stock is probably not the most important, but it is definitely one of the most satisfying.

 

 

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April 4, 2017 · 10:57 am

Stardusters… Canto 41

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Canto Forty-One – Back Aboard the Mother Ship

Biznap hurried up the ramp and through the mist-filled corridors of the Command Center.  Xiar was going to do something about this.  He had to!  Biznap had always thought of Farbick as just another underling before, just another yellow-skinned Fmoogish boob…  But the truth he had come to embrace was that Farbick was the only other Telleron besides himself on this whole mission that could possibly make things work out in the Tellerons’ favor.  He felt slightly guilty about the fact that he was alive now only because of the sacrifice Farbick and Starbright had made.

“Commander Biznap!”  Docking bay officer Oogsblotter was surprised to see the second-ranking Telleron of the entire mission hustling up from the bay all by himself.  At least, he was definitely submissively bowing out of the way like a yellow-skinned Fmoogish boob.

“I need to see Xiar and Shalar, now!”

“The Captain is busy in the control center, and Science Officer Shalar is away on a recovery mission.”

“A recovery mission?  Looking for who?”

“Well, you sir… and apparently some of Xiar’s tadpoles stole a ship and went down to the planet too.”

“Merciful Crocodile Gawd!  Where’s Harmony then?  …My wife, I mean?”

“She is the leader of the recovery mission.”

Biznap was stunned at the news.  Nobody to rely on for help other than wishy-washy old Xiar and… himself.  Well, it had to be done.

“I need to see Xiar, and I need it to happen now!”  His voice was powerful enough to shake Oogsblotter down to his socks, as if Tellerons wore socks, and the docking bay officer fell all over himself scrambling to comply.

“I will get him immediately, sir!”  The officer crawled off on all fours to get to the Command Center and alert Xiar.  It felt kinda good to have that kind of power and respect.  Before the invasion of Earth no one had looked up to Biznap.  They secretly laughed at him for always striving to do his best and go by the regulations.  But then he survived the invasion, came back with the beautiful Harmony Castille as his prize, survived Commander Sleez’s insurrection, and ended up with Sleez’s job as First Officer.  They weren’t laughing any more.  Biznap was a rare thing… a Telleron who could accomplish things.

“Biznap?” said the hustling Xiar while making his way into the docking bay, “what has happened?  Where is Farbick and your crew?”

“Two are dead and two captured, but we located a key moon base from which Tellerons could operate as the dominant space force in this system.”

Xiar looked shocked.  “B-but you know we are not a large force.  We can’t stand up to overwhelming numbers of vicious, Telleron-eating lizard-guys.”

“We actually don’t have to.  This planet has decimated itself through greed and lust for war.  There are only two lizard-guys on the moon base, and only one of those is a soldier.  We could take them easily, and maybe rescue Farbick and Starbright at the same time.”

“You mean actually fight?  Not a secret invasion like on Earth?”

“We can do it, Captain.  I have learned a secret from Farbick and our experiences with the Earther primates.  If you care about one another and fight for your friends and family instead of yourself, you can actually win.  The fight means more, and you can do a better job!”

“Ooh, I don’t know if I could do that…”

“Your new wife, Shalar, and some of your children are already caught up in this.  Their lives are at stake.  You need to do this for them.  Just like I intend to do it for Harmony.”

Xiar bit his lower lip and seemed befuddled.

“You love them don’t you?  You have learned about love from everything Harmony and the Morrells have taught us… haven’t you?”

“Well,” said Xiar, apparently drawing the conclusion that Biznap intended, “maybe I do.”

*****

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April 3, 2017 · 3:15 pm

Ladybugs Conquer Cartoonland

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Yes, Mickey couldn’t help it.  The toys hit the shelves in Walmart.  He discovered the silly superhero junior highschool romance thing first on Pinterest, then on YouTube.  Miraculous, the Adventures of Ladybug and Cat Noir.   The silly thing is on Netflix now too.

So, why would a goofy old man like me be interested in a thing like this… a thing aimed at an audience of pre-teen girls?  That’s disturbingly creepy, isn’t it?

Well, I never claimed to be cool.  I was an English teacher for 31 years.  Cool was never an option.

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And I collect dolls… erm… action figures… uh… well, I might as well be honest.  I have more Barbies than G.I. Joes.  I have a hoarding disorder fixated on 12-inch dolls.  And when I saw this doll for less than 15 dollars at Walmart, I had to buy it.  And it has the other super hero, Cat Noir right beside it.  Both under 20 dollars so they fit under the 20 dollar limit.  And both together only cost 30 dollars, so it fits under the 50 dollar per month limit as well.  Those collecting rules are important in saving me from my own juvenile regressive self and helps me have enough money to buy food all month long.

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The people in the store don’t look at me funny.  I am not the only old man buying toys and dolls in Walmart.  I am just the only old man there not buying for his grandkids.  I don’t have any grandkids yet, and my own kids are definitely older than the toy-wanting stage.  The people would be far more disturbed if they knew I was now struggling with the question, “Do I preserve these dolls mint-in-box?  Or do I take them out and play with them?”  And if you have read any of my lunatic “he-plays-with-dolls” posts, you probably already know how that one will turn out.

People might also be deeply disturbed to know that I have already watched two episodes of Miraculous, and (shudder) liked them in spite of the moronic romance and love-triangle bull poop.  I can’t promise that I will not watch more and turn away from this new filthy habit.  The stories are stupid villain-of-the-week stuff.  But the CGI animation is brightly colored, smooth, and highly interesting… to the point that I and any available chimpanzees or monkeys will be enthralled with it.  Oh, and pre-teen girls too.  I won’t go into the connections between those things.

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I could probably spend a lot of words telling you more about how this cartoon is set in Paris, France, and how Marinette and Adrien, the secret identities of the two superheroes above, are both in love with each other, but don’t realize it because neither one knows the secret identity of the other.  But I won’t.  This post is not a review of the cartoon show.  This post is a goofy commentary celebrating the fact that I bought myself two more dolls, and now must somehow rationalize that weird, compulsive act.

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March 31, 2017 · 11:49 am

The Ultra-Mad Madness of Don Martin

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Born in 1931 and lasting in this crazy, mixed-up world until the year 2000, Don Martin was a mixy, crazed-up cartoonist for Mad Magazine who would come to be billed as “Mad Magazine’s Maddest Artist.”    His greatest work was done during his Mad years, from 1956 (the year I was born… not a coincidence, I firmly believe) until his retirement in 1988.  And I learned a lot from him by reading his trippy toons in Mad from my childhood until my early teacher-hood.

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His style is uniquely recognizable and easily identifiable.  Nobody cartoons a Foon-man like Don Martin.

The googly eyes are always popped in surprise.  The tongue is often out and twirling.  Knees and elbows always have amazingly knobbly knobs.  Feet have an extra hinge in them that God never thought of when he had Adam on the drawing board.

And then there is the way that Martin uses sound effects.  Yes, cartoons in print don’t make literal sounds, but the incredible series of squeedonks and doinks that Martin uses create a cacophony of craziness in the mind’s ear.

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And there is a certain musicality in the rhyming of the character names he uses.  Fester Bestertester was a common foil for slapstick mayhem, and Fonebone would later stand revealed by his full name, Freenbeen I. Fonebone.

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And, of course, one of his most amazingly adventurous ne’er-do-well slapstick characters was the immeasurable Captain Klutz!

Here, there, and everywhere… on the outside he wears his underwear… it’s the incredible, insteadable, and completely not edible… Captain Klutz!

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If you cannot tell it from this tribute, I deeply love the comic genius who was Don Martin, Mad Magazine’s Maddest Artist.  Like me he was obsessed with nudists and drawing anatomy.  Like me he was not above making up words with ridiculous-sounding syllables.  And like me he was also a purple-furred gorilla in a human suit… wait!  No, he wasn’t, but he did invent Gorilla-Suit Day, where people in gorilla suits might randomly attack you as you go about your daily life, or gorillas in people suits, or… keep your eye on the banana in the following cartoon.

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So, even though I told you about Bruce Timm and Wally Wood and other toon artists long before I got around to telling you about Don Martin, that doesn’t mean I love them more.  Don Martin is wacky after my own heart, and the reason I spent so much time immersed in Mad Magazine back in the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s.

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March 27, 2017 · 11:08 am

The Hardest Part to Write

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I finished a novel rough draft today.  But the end is not the hardest part to write.  Well, this one was, but not because it was the end of the story.  It was the part where a character you have carefully crafted over time, and really learned to love, has to die because that is simply how the story goes.  It was not a sad death, or an unresolved death, as such.  It was a fulfilled life of meaning and magic that simply came to its ending point.  My own real-life story may come to an end sometime in near the future too, and I can only hope it is half as much a satisfying completion as this one was.  And yet, my heart is sore from having written it.

The novel is called Recipes for Gingerbread Children.  It is a story of a little old lady.  She is alone in the world, except for the people in the little Iowa town where she is now living, especially the middle school age people who gather at her house to eat her gingerbread cookies and listen to her German fairy tales.  She was also a concentration camp survivor, so this story has Nazis in it.  Don’t worry though.  They are dead Nazis.  And there is a werewolf in it.  But only a baby werewolf.  Oh, and there are two twin teenage girls who are practicing nudists in it.  But you probably aren’t worried about them.  There are also fairies in it.  She tells fairy stories, after all.  And the whole book is more or less a collection of fairy stories.  And there is a lot of magical gingerbread cookies.

But I had to write the “character dies” part that I knew was coming for about six months.  It is the part that will make or break the story.  It is the part I will most need to polish and rewrite.  But the fact remains, the story ends with a death.  So there is that.  Life with gingerbread in it is also life that eventually comes to an end.

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And that part of the story is always really, really hard to write.

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