Sunday, December 31, 2006

Ford Bored

The death of former president Gerald R. Ford has left a gaping hole in my life. I don't think I'll ever get over this one, even though the news media has done all that it could to help me. Gerald R. Ford was a "true gentleman" with "great courage." I know this because George W. Bush told me so, and then so did the nightly news anchors on CBS, CNN and Fox News for the next several days. I can see why no one wanted to choose different adjectives to describe this great man, because never has a gentleman been truer or courage greater than that of Gerald R. Ford.

I was greatly relieved to learn that this upcoming Tuesday was declared a national day of mourning for Gerald R. Ford. Since I'm coming to terms with my great loss, I'm not sure if I'll be able to go into work that day, and I certainly don't expect the federal government or mailmen to be able to gather the courage. After all, Tuesday will be a mere seven days after this great man has left us. It's too much to ask of citizens to mourn Ford on a Saturday or Sunday. Asking them to mourn on a Monday would be OK, but not this Monday, because that's New Year's, and everyone will be too hung over and have too much confetti in their hair to truly, truly pay tribute to this true gentleman with great courage.

Getting the mail on Jan. 2 would surely sully the memory of this greatly courageous true gentleman. Even if Tuesday weren't a national day of mourning for Gerald R. Ford, I most surely couldn't read my mail that day anyway because my eyes would be too clogged up with tears. That day I think I'll go through my box of Gerald R. Ford paraphernalia and try to come to terms with the cruel fact that sometimes 93-year-old unelected ex-presidents don't live to be 94. How we'll explain this to children I'll never know. Hopefully schools will offer counseling sessions when they reopen next week.

Tuesday will be a rough day for me, filled with painful memories of Gerald R. Ford, who was more of an American Idol than even Kelly Clarkson. Surely I'll be comforted by one of seven or eight televised funerals and/or memorial services for Gerald R. Ford, whom we'll love too much to bury until well after a week has passed since his passing. If it were up to me I'd keep his body unburied for a month, so I could throw 35 televised funerals and/or memorial services for him.

After all, the man was the leader of the free world for 30 months, which is a long time, when compared to the life of a beautiful, tender butterfly, which spans just 24 hours, and he reigned 30 years ago, which really wasn't all that long ago, compared to the Jurassic period, when evil velociraptors governed the earth with their vicious brand of terror. Tuesday I'll remember all of Gerald R. Ford's great accomplishments, such as when he just stood there, with such gentlemanly courage, and was named vice president after Spiro Agnew resigned, and then became president when Richard Nixon resigned, then lost an election after only two and a half years in office to Jimmy Carter, who was really good at running political campaigns. Even though the electorate realized Gerald R. Ford was a true gentleman with great courage, they recognized that Jimmy Carter was something special indeed, and his great political prowess was too promising to pass up. Of course, Gerald R. Ford was always able to win over the electoral college of my heart.

Gerald R. Ford, I miss you. You were a true gentleman with great courage. I hope you'll pardon me, as you did Richard Nixon, while I mope in my misery of your passing.

Sunday, December 17, 2006

A New Christmas Carol

Why is it that all the prominent Christmas carols were written hundreds of years ago? Is the human race's creativity so depleted that we can't do better than "Jingle Bells?" I'm here to tell you that we can. In just five minutes, I've written a new Christmas carol to replace all the others. It's called "Santa Claus Isn't Real."

Gather 'round kids, let me tell you a tale

A story of an elf and his jingling bell

His name is Saint Nick, and he's fiction you see

A lie propagated by society.

CHORUS:

Doesn't matter what you feel

Santa Claus isn't real!

Your atheist friends are all quite correct

Parents give you presents, but zero respect

They think you're so stupid you won't even know

That the mall Santa is really just a dealer of blow

Yank on his beard and you'll see that it's true

Or ask him why he won't give gifts to a Jew

(REPEAT CHORUS)

Don't cry, young lad, no reason to despair

Don't pee in your pants or pull out your hair

There's a bright side here, be strong and be brave!

Now you know to get loot you don't gotta behave.

(REPEAT CHORUS)

Santa Claus is a myth, he's really bogus, you'll see

Like Iraq WMDs and social security

So Virginia, please, don't fall for the spiel

Get your head on straight and know that Santa ain't real.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

My New T-Shirt Idea

I'm always having ideas for new T-shirts. My latest: "Give Pizza Chance." I hope Domino's steals that and uses it as their new slogan so I can sue them and be awarded free pizzas for life by the Supreme Court.

In case you haven't noticed, I've taken to writing a paragraph or two on this site every week. It's partially because I'm lazy, partially because I don't feel like writing those pretend interviews anymore, but mostly because I've been pretty busy. Regular readers of this site will be able to tell when my life starts to get boring again when they start seeing more of my writing up in here.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

THIS is Our Country?

Hey there, person who's responsible for airing the obnoxious Chevrolet commercial that unfurls a deluge of propaganda set to "This is Our Country." Please do me a solid and take your work off the air, or at the very least get the networks to play it less than twice a commercial break. When I'm watching NFL games I'm feeling like the Clockwork Orange guy, and I can't take the fascist mind control anymore. Thanks, OK, back to watching the Arizona Cardinals be 3-9.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Conductors

It's time we all stop and recognize that conductors do absolutely nothing. No one in a marching band or orchestra ever looks at the hands-waving jackasses who have no musical talent of their own. All musicians secretly hate conductors, who stand on platforms, call attention to themselves and take all the credit. I know this because I'm a musical expert, having played the trumpet in fourth grade.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Interview: Mario Mario

PV: Your first and last names are the same. That's pretty cool.

MM: Yes, indeedy, thank-a you. It's-a easy to remember. And mia memory, it's-a not so good. These-a years of hitting blocks with my head - they-a leave me with many concussions.

PV: Oh yeah? I thought you were smashing them with your fist the whole time.

MM: That's-a not so. But it's-a good idea. As good as a plate of my momma's canolies.

PV: I see your company is releasing the Wii. A great new system, eh?

MM: I'm-a not-a so excited. There's-a no Mario game for this-a new system.

PV: But "The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess" is out. That's pretty cool.

MM: No, it's-a not. This Link, he's a prima donna. I hate him.

PV: Oh, come on now, Mario. Don't get all jealous. Learn to share the spotlight with a co-star.

MM: Screw-a you-a. It's-a Mario you're-a talking to. I-a no even share the spotlight with my brother, Luigi.

PV: That's pretty cold. Poor Luigi has always been forced into the sidekick role. He had better powers than you in "Super Mario Bros. 2" though.

MM: It's-a the truth. I-a had no powers in that game.

PV: Neither did Toad.

MM: At least-a Toad could pick vegetables fast and wouldn't slow-a down when-a he was carrying them.

PV: Why do you talk like that?

MM: Like-a what?

PV: Like a Japanese idea of an Italian-American stereotype, adding -a after every other word.

MM: What you say? I'm-a from Brooklyn. It's-a Mario who-a thinks you talk-a funny.

PV: But I just talk normal.

MM: No. I-a no understand-a what you say. I-a talk normal.

PV: Fine, dude, whatever.

MM: No-a say whatever to me. I-a have you whacked.

PV: Now, now, Mario. There's another Italian stereotype - the assumed mob connection. You and I both know that you're no Soprano.

MM: You-a see when-a you wake up to see a horsehead-a tucked into-a your bed.

PV: That doesn't really happen. You got that from "Godfather."

MM: By the name-a of Mussolini, I shall-a have you killed.

PV: Oh, come on now. No one likes Mussolini, least of all Italians. He was a fascist who drove the country into the ground.

MM: (Talking regularly) The jig is up, I guess. It's true. I have no idea what it's like to be Italian. The Nintendo programmers just make me talk with fake accents and play into igorant stereotypes. I'd like to take this opportunity to advertise to not only the Italian American community, but the world at large for my malfeasance.

PV: You're a big guy, Mario. I have a newfound respect for you.

MM: This-a newfound respect, you remember it when-a "Super Mario Galaxy" comes-a out next year for the Wii, eh?

PV: As long as I'm finished with Zelda by then. Those games are better than yours.

MM: Fair-a enough.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Interview: Captain Planet

PV: Hello, Captain. It's great that you could find time in your busy schedule to do some press. You don't usually do interviews.

CP: Captain Planet hates the press. The press wastes trees.

PV: Newspapers do, but this is for the Internet. The Internet doesn't waste anything.

CP: Why yes it does (stifles chuckle). It wastes time! Hahahaha!

PV: That's such a great joke, Captain, that I'm gonna print it out and pass it around everywhere I go.

CP: Noooooooooooooo! Do you realize how many trees will die just so you can spread my superpowered humor? It's not worth it, my friend. Please recycle your objectives into a more resourceful pastime.

PV: I always admired the way you incorporated environmentalist buzzwords into mundane speech. You know, I used to feel all guilty about the environment, but it's tough to care anymore. I mean, there's nothing I can do to stop them from cutting down the rain forest. And besides, I'm sure the tree-cutters have a good reason to do what they're doing.

CP: Don't talk like that! Alone you might not be able to stop our world-destroying ways, but together we can make a difference? Don't you remember my show?

PV: Not really. It's been a long time, man,

CP: Well you should rewatch it. It's available on... uh... VHS.

PV: Oh great. Is it on Beta, too? How about Laserdisc? And can I pick up the soundtrack on a phonograph maybe? Send me a telegram if you see any Captain Planet VHS tapes available.

CP: I sense your sarcasm, fiend. Watch your mouth lest I call upon the four elements to smite you.

PV: Yeah, yeah. You do that. You know, there are some rumors going around about you. Is it true that you masturbate to "Ferngully the Last Rainforest?"

CP: Yeah. Can't blame me. The chick in there is hot.

PV: Yeah, she is (offers hand to Captain Planet for high five). Krysta the fairy gots it going on.

CP: (Pretends like he'll give a high-five, then pulls back his hand to slick back his hair.)

PV: So that's why your hair is green. You must pick your nose and run it through your hair, like the old joke me and my friends used to tell when we were 9.

CP: No. NOOO! I totally don't do that. My hair is only green as a symbol of my environmentalistic ways. Don't you know that? Green means environmentally friendly. Green Party. GreenPeace. Green Day. Green eggs... and... ham. OK, OK, ya got me. I do pick my nose and wipe it through my hair. Is that so wrong? Otherwise I'm a good person. I use ethanol. I avoid spraying aerosol. I don't read the newspaper.

PV: It's OK. Calm down, Captain. Here, have one of my sodas.

CP: Thanks. (drinks soda)

PV: I hope that soda tastes good, Captain Planet. Do you realize it came from a six-pack, with one of those plastic holders that's been known to finds its way into the ocean and choke baby birds!

CP: Nooooo! (picks nose and slides hand through green hair).

Sunday, October 29, 2006

An Interview with the Kool-Aid Man

PV: What the hell? The Kool-Aid Man's PR reps told me Punchy would be here at my house for an interview by now. But yet he's nowhere to be found!

(Kool-Aid Man punches through wall).

KAM: Hey hey! Never fear, Kool-Aid Man is here!

PV: Holy feces! You scared the Tang out of me, Kool-Aid man? Don't you know how to knock?

KAM: When you're filled with tangy juiciness, son, knocking ain't an option.

PV: True, true. But your routine is pretty destructive. You just ruined an entire wall in my house.

KAM: Don't worry, Phil. Your homeowner's insurance should cover it.

PV: You know, you're right. I never thought of it that way, Kool-Aid Man. How can I stay mad at you?

KAM: Here (tips over head to pour cherry Kool-Aid into a cup). This will calm you down.

PV: Whoah, a drink from your own private reserve! I'm honored.

KAM: Don't be. For me, doing that is like peeing in a cup and giving it to them. I do that to people who bother me. You kept whining about your bashed-in wall so I decided to pay you an insult by serving you my urine.

PV: (Drinking the Kool-Aid) Yum! Kool-Aid Man, while I'm offended by your treamtent of me, I've gotta admit, that's some tasty stuff there. Let me know when you have to go again, because I want seconds.

KAM: Yeah, that's the trouble, is that Kool-Aid is so darn tasty. I wonder what it must be like to be able to urinate sulphuric, stinky yellow liquid like humans?

PV: Trust me, dude. It's not as great as it sounds.

KAM: That may be, but acidic refuse is far from the only reason I envy your race. Because of our tendency to spill, Kool-Aid Men are incapable of driving cars, going on roller coasters or (tear drips from his eye and smiley face turns into a frown) making love.

PV: Kool-Aid MEN, eh? I didn't know there were more than one. You're telling me you're not unique?

KAM: Oh, no. We Kool-Aid Men are a proud race of islanders in Southeast Asia. We have survived centuries of war, famine and pestilence. I am the lone representative of my people in the public eye, and a very sad and lonely man.

PV: So you just take out your rage by smashing peoples' walls then? I totally understand, Kool-Aid Man. I totally had you wrong. Please accept my apology.

KAM: Psyche. I'm just messing with you, pal. There are no Kool-Aid Men in Southeast Asia. I'm a mascot. (Bashes down another wall). And a dick. Late.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

An Interview with Mr. Miyagi

PV: Wow! I can't believe I'm sitting here with you! I've got to tell you that of all the alcoholic martial arts legends, you're my favorite.

MM: Ahead of Drunken Master? Is privilege.

PV: I should start by offering my condolences on the passing of Pat Morita, the actor who played you so well in four 'Karate Kid' movies.

MM: Miyagi in mourning. Morita was good man. Should have won Oscar for 'Karate Kid I.' Not so much for 'Next Karate Kid.'

PV: I suppose now that he's dead, we won't be seeing you in any more movies, such as 'The Next-er Karate Kid Princess,' starring Hilary Duff.

MM: Miyagi must seek young flower to resurrect character. Am hoping to launch franchise like James Bond. Maybe Jet Li or Roger Moore play me next.

PV: Remember that part in the first movie, where you're trying to catch the fly with your chopsticks for hours, and you can't do it, and then Daniel-San comes along and catches the fly on the first try and makes you look like a doddering idiot! That was frikkin' awesome.

MM: Is dark memory for Miyagi, like my dead wife in American detention camp during second world war. Continue to bring up stuff like that and Miyagi must teach you lesson.

PV: Oh really. What are you gonna do about it?

MM: Miyagi will make you paint fence, then wax car.

PV: That's not such a bad deal at all, actually. Painting the fence will secretly teach me the motor skills to block kicks with my hand, and waxing will learn me how to fend off punches with the greatest of ease. Plus, I bet you'll give me the keys to the car I wax for my 16th birthday.

MM: Boy, you much older than 16.

PV: True that. I was thinking maybe you'd give me the car as a retroactive gift.

MM: Miyagi only serve as sensei for young followers in need of help from bullies.

PV: Yeah, I kind of thought so. You might want to rethink that policy in the current sociological climate. I mean, people can't allow their kids to be Congressional pages, boy scouts, altar boys or 7th grade students in the state of Florida unless they're willing to risk their kids getting diddled by their mentors. What sort of parent will let a strange old man like you sensei their kid?

MM: Miyagi finish with interview. Is that tape recorder? (judo chops it in half).

PV: Dude, what the hell! That cost me like $70!

MM (pins me to floor): What you do about it? If Miyagi can kick asses of seven high school ruffians in skeleton costumes, he certainly can handle one interviewer. What will it be? Live or die?

PV: Die!

MM: Wrong. (Holds back on delivering a death blow to my temple and grabs my nose). Honk!

PV: That one's still as funny today as it was 22 years ago.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

An Interview with the Hamburglar

PV: Hi, Hamburglar. It's good to see you.

H: Robble robble.

PV: Is that all you ever say?

H: Robble robble.

PV: I'll take that as a yes. I'll tell you what, smartass. I'm gonna break you down. You've been one of America's most notorious criminals for the past three decades, and no one's ever been able to get an intelligible word out of you. But you have never met the likes of me.

H: Robble robble.

PV: Go ahead, play it coy, Hamburglar. I know that somewhere deep down inside that twisted mind of yours flourishes the pugnacious wit of a troubled philosopher. What I have to ask you, sir, is this: Since you're obviously a genius, having eluded the capture of the police force led by Mayor McCheese in your ongoing efforts to pilfer cheeseburgers at will, why have you sold yourself so short? What contempt you must have for society, to divert your formidable brainpower toward the simplistic pastime of committing the same robbery again and again, whereas if your energies were devoted to a positive pastime you could surely become a great man.

H: Robble rob- ah, fuck it. Who the hell are you to try and tell me how to use my talents? I like burgers and I'm good at stealing. So back the hell off, alright?

PV: Defensiveness much?

H: "Defensiveness much?" What the hell is that supposed to mean? That's not even grammatically correct.

PV: Oh, and I'm sure "robble robble" is the epitome of eloquence.

H: Actually no, it isn't. When I say "robble robble" I'm just quoting the sound your mom makes when she's sucking on one of my chicken selects.

PV: Oh, heeeeeeeeeellllllllll no. Don't you dare talk about my momma (bitch slaps the Hamburglar).

H (rubbing cheek): Dude, where's your journalistic integrity? You don't bitch slap an interview subject no matter what they say.

PV: Yeah, I know. Sorry brotha. I need to work on my temper.

H: You also need to work on your strength. That slap didn't hurt at all.

PV: That's not what that red mark upside your head is telling me.

H: That's enough. I'm not going to talk to you anymore. I've got better things to do.

PV: What, like steal double cheeseburgers? They only cost a dollar each. You realize that you're risking 9 months in San Quentin every time you do that, right?

H: One, I cannot be caught. Two, no prison could ever hold me.

PV: What about Alcatraz? No one ever escaped from there.

H: Nicolas Cage and Sean Connery did. Connery did twice.

PV: That was just a movie.

H: Touche.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

How to Screw Over McDonald's and Best Buy

I was going to interview the Hamburglar this week, but I told him he'd have to wait until next week. I'm too busy to talk to him because it's McNopoly season.

Since a number of people have inquired to my methods, I thought I'd provide a step-by-step program on how to violate this contest for all it's worth, without having to eat any of McDonald's nasty food. This primer will teach you how to get the video game "Splinter Cell: Double Agent" ($40) with $20.50 of your own money. I understand that this feat isn't so impressive, but understand that it can be expanded exponentionally. The more you take my advise, the more you'll be able to exploit this magical contest. For instance, you could multiply all these steps by seven, buy seven copies of Splinter Cell, sell six on eBay and make a hell of a profit. Without further ado:

Step one: Get ready to go. This journey will take you to a dollar store and a place that sells stamps. (You can also buy stamps online, but you'll have to wait a few days to get them.) For this trip, you'll need $25.

Step two: At the dollar store, buy 50 evnelopes for $1.

Step three: Get 50 stamps. At 39 cents a pop, this will run you $19.50. Be sure to get sticker stamps, unless you want to do a ton of licking.

Step four: Do 15 jumping jacks. You'll need to get the blood flowing for all the writing you're about to do.

Step five: Get your 50 envelopes out and affix a stamp in the upper right-hand corner of each.

Step six: Divide the stamped envelopes in two equal stacks. On the first stack, write your name and address on the bottom middle of the envelopes.


Step seven: Do 25 push-ups. Girl (using your knees to support you) push-ups are OK, only if you're a girl.

Step eight: On the second stack, write your name and address on the upper left corner of the envelopes.

Step nine: Do 12 deep knee bends, to get the blood flowing once again. You're 2/3 done!

Step ten: Write this address on the bottom middle of the envelopes of stack two:
Monopoly 2006 Game at McDonald's
Game Piece Request
P.O. Box 49434
Strongsville, OH 44149

Step eleven: Fold each of the envelopes in stack one, stuff them one by one inside of corresponding envelopes in stack two. Seal them and mail them off.

Step twelve: Wait 6-10 days for the envelopes to return with your game pieces. Do not eat at McDonald's during this time. But do go to McDonald's in order to pick up a free Monopoly game board. While you're there, search through the garbage cans (only the tops - don't dig through it, because that's nasty) for abandoned game pieces. Also search the counter tops and look out for old people, who don't understand the contest and tend to leave game pieces behind as they go about their ways.

Step thirteen: Get your game pieces and lump together your Best Buy Bucks. You should have 25 Best Buy Bucks, at least two of which are of the $5 denomination, increasing your total amount of Best Buy money to $33.

Step fourteen: Open your other pieces. You should have enough to cover the entire board except for the winning pieces that don't actually exist. That's OK. Do not throw away your doubles, because you can use the codes on them for the online contest. You should also have two or three pieces that get you a free McDonald's value meal.

Step fifteen: Let's assume you have two free value meal pieces. Go to McDonald's again with one of your free value meal pieces, and get a premium chicken sandwich meal. The sandwich box will come with a Best Buy Buck.

Step sixteen: Take the Best Buy Buck off the box, then take one bite of the sandwich. Chew a little then spit it out. Return it to the manager and say your sandwich doesn't taste right, which will be true, because those things are nasty. The manager will give you another chicken sandwich. Take the Best Buy Buck off it, as well as any other game pieces that came with your meal, and throw it all away or give it to an unlucky homeless man.

Step seventeen: Repeat step sixteen later that night when a different manager is on duty. Doing this, searching in the trash and random luck should leave you with $40 in Best Buy cash. If not, send out a couple more SASEs as needed.

Step eighteen: Log onto playatmcd.com and enter 10 codes per day. You should win lots of snapfish coupons and cell phone ringtones.

Step nineteen: Go to Best Buy and seize your prize from the stunned checkout clerk, who will be annoyed at being unlucky enough to have to serve the asshole who is buying a video game with $40 in Best Buy Bucks.

Step twenty: Raise your hands in victory!

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Welcome to the new site

You'll notice the design is a lot better now. That's because it wasn't done by me, and it's a basic blogspot template. The way things will work from here on out is I'll post pretty much randomly whenever I feel like it. Each Sunday I'll bring you a new interview with a faded luminary from the arts and entertainment world. Well, except for this Sunday. I'm afraid the Hamburglar's publicist didn't get back to me in time for deadline, so look for that one next week.

OK, I'll be honest with you. The Hamburglar was all ready to do the interview, but I blew him off because I didn't have time. The annual McNopoly contest starts this week and I wasted all of Sunday filling out free gamepiece request SASEs. My goal is to accumulate enough Best Buy Bucks to make a hostile takeover on the Best Buy corporation. Just you watch - I'll own the company by the time the contest ends Oct. 30.

Friday, September 22, 2006

Movie Watch '06

These are the best and worst movies I've seen this year. I'll update this list periodically.

TOP MOVIES 2006

1. The Science of Sleep
2. District B13
3. The Illusionist
4. This Film is Not Yet Rated

The Puffy Chair, Invincible, The Proposition, Edmond, You, Me and Dupree, A Scanner Darkly, Art School Confidential, Wordplay, Peaceful Warrior, Lucky Number Slevin, United 93, Stick It, Night Watch, When a Stranger Calls, Tsotsi, Imagine Me and You

WORST MOVIE OF '06: The Pink Panther

FOLLOWED BY: The Guardian, The Covenant, Another Gay Movie, The Lost City, Keeping Up With the Steins, Church Ball, Scary Movie 4, HellBent, ATL, Hoot