Tag Archives: Moose Bowling

Friday Foolishness

Moose Bowling

I went moose-bowling the other day with my good friend Doofy Fuddbugg. We don’t do this often, as the moose-bowling lanes are rarely open. (There is a distinct shortage of Bullwinkles willing to grab their ankles with their gloved hands, make themselves into a ball, and then be thrown down bowling lanes by human goofballs who’ve exercised their moose-muscles to the point that they can actually throw a moose. And, of course, as antlers often get tangled up in the moose-ball return, the moose-bowling lanes can rarely stay up and running for a whole evening.)

Doofy, as he put on his bowling shoes, was enlightening me with his philosophy of dating.

“You has ta pick an ugly girl, because ugly girls will appreciate ya more since they can’t get nobody better than you,” Doofy says with a smug smirk on his smiley old puss.

“I have seen this philosophy at work,” I confessed. “I have seen your girlfriend, Green Lillian. She is four-foot-two with a bright green complexion and completely bald. But does it not bother you that her house is made of gingerbread and candy canes, and she eats small children for lunch?”

Doofy Fuddbugg

“Gingerbread-fed brats can be quite tasty with lots of catsup. “

“Don’t you mean ketchup?”

“Naw, Green Lillian makes her condy-mint out of the fur of black cats which she clips off them when they is upset and the fur on ’em is all standing uppity up on their backs.”


Doofy rolled the first Bullwinkle for a strike. Of course, if you can get the moose to roll all the way to the pins, it is almost always a strike because of the antlers sticking out on either side.

Then the discussion turned to politics as my first Bullwinkle rolled right into the left gutter, then just sat there scratching his moose head and chewing on a daisy he pulled off the flower-patterned wallpaper in the restroom.

“Iddennit great we has a wunnerful prexydent in the White House to do rotten stuff to all the peoples we hates?” Doofy said stupidly.

“I really don’t hate anybody, Doofy. But the current president comes close. Why do you love him now? What terrible thing has he done?”

“He done kilt an Iranian towel-head general in the Iraqi airport. Done kilt him with a drone.”

“Yeah, I heard about it. The Great Orange Face may have started another war in the Middle East in order to get us to look away from the Impeachment trial.”

Doofy bowled another Bullwinkle for a strike.

“I dun’t know why ya allus has ta talk down about the prexydunt, Mickey. He’s a good ol’ boy. And why does ya allus wanna im-peach him fer? He’s a purty peachy guy already. Ya dun’t need to put him IN a peach. Ya oughtta be X-peaching him!”

“Yeah, let’s not talk about him anymore,” I moaned as I rolled a Bullwinkle into the right gutter.

“Eeyup, I win der arguey-mint again cause I jes’ keep repeatin’ the facts until yer pointy liberal head is done ready to explode.”

“Whatever you say, Doof. You can’t argue logic like that because it simply doesn’t exist. How can you argue what doesn’t exist?”

Doofy laughed and laughed as he rolled another moose-bowling strike on his way to a 300 game. 300 to 0. God, I hate moose-bowling.


Filed under cartoons, foolishness, humor, Paffooney, satire

The Surrealist

Yes, I admit it.  I am a Surrealist.  I also hope that it is not too terrible a thing to be.  Because I truly think that everyone who was raised by television, and lived through the revolution where computers took over human life, is one too.

definition from Merriam-Webster;

Simple Definition of surrealism;

a 20th-century art form in which an artist or writer combines unrelated images or events in a very strange and dreamlike way

Full Definition of surrealism;

the principles, ideals, or practice of producing fantastic or incongruous imagery or effects in art, literature, film, or theater by means of unnatural or irrational juxtapositions and combinations

  • rooster riding
  • There is a certain satisfaction to be had in knowing for certain how to define oneself.  I learned about Surrealism in high school art class back in the early 70’s.  I saw and admired the works of Salvador Dali, Rene Magritte, and Max Ernst.  And I realized that everything I wanted to do in the Realm of Art, whether it was weird paintings, cartoons, comic book art, or bizarre puppet shows… fantasy, science fiction, or humor… it was ALL Surrealism.  Surrealism saturates out culture and our very thinking.    We are drawn to watch baseball by the antics of a giant pantomime chicken.  Our food choices are influenced by a happy red, yellow, and white clown who battles a blobby purple monster and a hamburglar over shakes and French fries.  It is only natural then, that I would want to draw bug-sized fairies who would saddle and ride a red rooster.  I have embraced surrealism as a way of life.
  • 20150910_122142
  • I have no trouble writing a poem about the difficulties of life by writing about a game of bowling where you have to roll a moose down the alley into the pins.
  • Surrealism is all about creating things by lumping all kinds of disparate goodies into the same pot and cooking it up as a stew.  It is important that the stew tastes good in the end, so the mixture has to have large doses of reality and realism in it.  Dali painted melting watches and boneless soft-sculpture people with almost photographic realism.  I am compelled to do that too.
  • And what is humor, after all, if not lumping strange things together into a reality sandwich that makes you laugh because it takes you by surprise?  I don’t shy away from weirdness.  I embrace it.  It makes life all the funnier.
  • And why did I put bullet points on everything in this post?  Because it allows me to mash bits of wit and wisdom together in a weird way that only seems to have no connection, one to the other, and only seems to make no sense.
  • princess on rooster
  • Sometimes we just have to look at things sideways.
  • I was recently accused of being eclectic in my posting topics by one regular commentator.  I could wear that word like a badge of honor.
  • Definition from the Urban Dictionary;
    This describes a combination of many different individual elements of styles, themes, mediums or inspirations pooled from many sources. It can refer to musical tastes, dress sense, interior design…many things.
    She has an ecletic sense of style, today she wears biker boots, pink fishnet stockings, a pencil skirt, a military jacket, a baseball hat, a my little pony t-shirt and a dunlop bag covered in badges from all her favourite bands from ABBA to Kooks
    by Ezmerelda August 28, 2005
  • So, if I am going to make sense of this whole mess of words and ideas and bizarre images, let me do it with a picture that I think is surreal.
  • Ima mickey


Filed under art criticism, artwork, humor, insight, Paffooney, philosophy, surrealism, Uncategorized

Scheakenschifter’s Totally Imaginary Emporium

For a while now I have been learning the hard way that being a writer means selling lies for a living, and you only get paid in imaginary money.  I mean, I-Universe has a payment policy of 10% royalties, but they only send you a check when they reach $25 dollars that they owe you.  So, the $16 dollars they owe me for book sales in 2014 is still in their bank account.  Blogging on the internet (what I am supposedly doing as a professional author here on WordPress with a site set up for me by I-Universe) pays in reader appreciation, likes, and shares.  I get paid diddly-zilch for that.

So, I have decided to open an online imaginary store.  I found a couple of partners, Junius Scheakenschifter the business entrepreneur, and Sam the Banana Man, a cartoonist like me (but a little more loony).  The thing that makes them difficult to work with is that both of them are completely fictional people, existing only in my imagination.  But that’s okay.  The store is made up of entire lines of imaginary inventory and I only charge a little appreciation and some fantasy money for each item.

Let me make a list for you of the best-selling items in my store.

The patent for this alien technology actually belongs to the ruling council of the Telleron Star Empire.

The patent for this alien technology actually belongs to the ruling council of the Telleron Star Empire.

After the failed alien invasion in my second published novel, Catch a Falling Star, I had a number of these alien ray pistols in my possession.   They are called Skortch Rays by the Tellerons (Who speak Galactic English just like we do as they learned it from watching I Love Lucy episodes from the television signals that have already traveled to the nearest stars).  Testing them out on rats and people who annoy me, I have determined that they are basically molecular disintegration rays that turn solid objects… and rats and annoying people… into loose, free-floating atoms and clouds of gas.  This is particularly useful for those people who annoy you, as no physical evidence is left of the skortching for the local authorities to find and give you disapproving stares over.  Of course, since it really only works on the imaginary people who annoy you, you probably don’t have to worry about the moral aspects of the things anyway.  I believe these items are worth somewhere in the neighborhood of billions and billions of dollars, but I am offering them at the sale price of one imaginary wooden nickel apiece.  Surely you can afford that.  And they work really well on exterminating imaginary rats.

4th Dimensional Hoola Hoops can be hazardous to your health, so I recommend you read the enclosed user's manual from cover to cover.

4th Dimensional Hoola Hoops can be hazardous to your health, so I recommend you read the enclosed user’s manual from cover to cover.

The Fourth-Dimensional Hoola Hoop is really hard to imagine a practical application for, but I think it is obvious that it represents hours and hours of mildly radioactive fun.  I am told that the longer you hula with the hoops, the farther your top part gets from the bottom part.  I am told this by Mr. Scheakenschifter who tested it himself.  But I can’t prove his claims are true because he is still hooping, and the top half of him in the A-ring claims that the bottom half of him in the B-ring is now hooping along the north shores of the Hudson Bay.  I am waiting for the news footage of a wandering pair of legs wearing a hoop to be posted on one of the many conspiracy-theory websites I follow.  (What do you mean that wouldn’t be valid evidence?  I believe them about the crop circles and UFO sightings, don’t I?)  We will happily sell you a 4th-Dimensional Hoola Hoop for the low, low price of one thousand Trans-Orgonian Bleeb-chuckers, the standard transactional currency used on the third planet of the Trans-Orgonia Star System.  The natives there give Bleeb-chuckers away for free, so all you have to do is make a trip there and collect them.  (I also have a special deal available on Earth-to-Trans-Orgonia starships of the imaginary and dream-works variety.)

Moosewinkles are easy to care for and train because they only eat imaginary sauerkraut and speak English particularly well for a moose.

Moosewinkles are easy to care for and train because they only eat imaginary sauerkraut and speak English particularly well for a moose.

The last item I would like to tempt you with today is a Moosewinkle.  These cartoon mooses… er, moosi… er, meese… are the perfect item to use as you discover the strenuous sport of Moose Bowling.  Moose Bowling is good for your heart because a moose weighs in the neighborhood of half a ton.  Throwing one down a lane in a bowling alley takes strength, determination, considerable skill, and… moose muscles.   If you can roll a moose down the lane, you are practically guaranteed a strike on every ball.  The moose tends to knock down all the pins whether you hit the head pin or not.  In fact, it will probably record a strike in the lanes on either side as well.  Wouldn’t it be fun to roll a score of 300 every time you go bowling?  Maybe even 900 if you keep score on both sides of your lane at the same time.  So please buy my Moosewinkle.  In fact, I will send him to you free.  He has already grazed on all the grass and flowers in our yard, and most of the curtains in the house too.  So, where do you live?  I’ll pay the postage and handling myself.

I now stand ready to start raking in the imaginary money.  And I will get rich this way just as quickly as I will by being a novelist with I-Universe publishers.

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Filed under humor, Paffooney, writing humor

Reverse Humor

The Fallen AceHave you ever noticed how Disney animated movies try to make you cry after you have been laughing for a while?

It is ironic, but true, that you have to use a little bit of the opposite to make something seem more like what it is.  The sad moments in the Disney formula are there to make you see how light the lighter moments really are.  The brightest light needs to be contrasted with the deepest shadow.

So, ironically, I find myself talking about irony as a story telling tool.  You see it in today’s first Paffooney.  In World War I pilots were usually dead if their plane was shot down.   Parachutes were not invented until late in the war.  Yet the pilot is giving the thumbs up sign as he sees you watching him fall to his death.  Irony is the perceived twist on reality that overturns expectations and makes you severely think for yourself about what the meaning could be.  Is the pilot happy because he is not the pilot of the pictured plane?  Could he be the pilot who shot it down?  Is it the Red Baron’s plane, forever robbing Snoopy of the ultimate opportunity?  Is the pilot the Baron himself, happy to be done with his famously deadly career?  Ironically, he is wearing a parachute in the painting, because ironically I didn’t look up the fact that the Frenchman, Jean Pierre Blanchard tested the first soft parachute in 1785, dropping a dog in a basket safely from high up in a hot air balloon until after I wrote the sentence about them not being invented in WWI.  And ironically, they still were not commonly used by pilots in World War I because they were mostly flying a few hundred feet from the ground and parachutes rarely were able to save them that close to death.  (Also, ironically, I seem to be using the word irony or its derivative parts of speech so much that the irony is lost by being made too obvious.  Dang me!)


The Moose Bowling Paffooney is another example of the kind of reverse humor that I am trying to explain and confusticate today.  If you can’t read the screwy legend on the swirl, it says, “Life is like Moose Bowling because… in order to knock down all the pins… and win… you have to learn how to throw a moose!”  Now I know that Bullwinkle-ized moose humor is naturally funny in itself, but I believe this Paffooney uses irony to make a funny.  You see, it is surprisingly the opposite of what you expect to happen when you talk about Moose Bowling (an obscure but well-loved sport in Northern Canada) and claim that you do it by throwing a moose at the pins at the business end of the bowling lane.  According to http://www.cutemoose.net/moose_facts.htm, an average adult male moose weighs about a thousand pounds.  He would be remarkably difficult to throw even if you could get the three finger holes successfully drilled into his antlers.

To sum up, you can plainly see that there is a real science to the use of irony in a humor blog… or maybe not… because I confess I dropped some excess irony on my left foot and nearly crushed it.  I know it was irony because I saw the rust.  Oh, and I forgot to add a whole nuther essay on why puns are a form of irony.  Well… maybe another day.


Filed under humor, irony, Paffooney