Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category

Dante Had It Right

February 27, 2018

I had to stop by the DMV earlier and – just what the hell is it about that place? It sucks the life and hope right out of a body. I mean, I opened the door and saw the dregs of humanity … a sea of soulless eyes staring back at me. I couldn’t tell if they were silently pleading for help or warning me to run while I had the chance. (I did the latter.) And I’m by no means a snob but is there a DMV where the educated and cultured go? Because all the folks I’ve ever seen in line at my local DMV seem like the type of mouth-breathing yokels who’d be more at home in back alley crap games or juvie hall reunions than taking in the latest Indie flick at an art house cinema. Perhaps it’s just everyone, no matter what the breeding or the bearing, take on that look when entering that purgatory of public service. Like a virus or a plague, the DMV’s negativity is infectious and lethal. Hell on Earth. In fact, Dante’s “Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate” may have been more apt over the doors to this sucking portal of Weltschmerz than the gate to hell. I’ve still got to go back and renew my driver’s license and I know that I’ve bloody well abandoned all hope.

Screw it! I’m chucking my car and Ubering everywhere from now on.


Night Heirs

February 23, 2018

I was woken up at about 3:30 this morning by muffled cries coming from my son Jake’s room. I grabbed the cricket bat I keep by the nightstand and rushed in, expecting to find him half out the window in the midst of an alien abduction or something. Instead, he was just sitting there, rocking back and forth on his bed, tears streaming down his face. He picked up his pillow and screamed into it and I sat down and asked him what the problem was. He just looked at me through red eyes and said – in pretty much the same voice that kid in the Sixth Sense used to tell Bruce Willis he saw dead people – Who would win in a fight – a bear with an assault rifle or shark with a hand grenade? I got up, went downstairs, poured him a glass of water, came back up and gave it to him. It’s moments like this that I’d like to comfort myself with the knowledge that he’s adopted or that Moira was unfaithful but I can’t avoid the stone cold fact that he’s mine and my genetic code runs through his DNA like a bacteria-resistant infection. “The bear,” I told him. “I worked it out in storyboard last week. I’ll show you tomorrow. Now, go to sleep. You’ve got ice skating drills in a few hours.” Armed with the solution to his dilemma, he settled in and was fast asleep as soon as he fell back onto the Teen Titans Go! bedsheets. Yep, he’s my boy all right. I can always recognize my particular brand of wacko.

Chemical Reaction

February 19, 2018

How do you get rid of old batteries? I used to flush them but I didn’t think that was good for my septic system. Sometimes I like to drop them in those kettles that those bell ringing dudes have out in front of the Walmart, primarily because it’s convenient and they always thank you with a smile, but that’s only a few weeks out of the year so it’s scarcely a solution. Do third world countries need them? They seem to need a lot, you’d think old batteries would be on the list.

Meanwhile I got a couple of boxes full of these things that are just sittin’ around collecting dust and leaking chemicals. That can’t be healthy. Should my hair be falling out in patches like this and should my eyesight be this blurry? If I didn’t have such debilitating muscle degeneration, I’d haul these boxes down to the curb and let the garbagemen deal with ‘em!

Tales From My Screwed-Up Childhood #17

February 16, 2018

I remember a trip to Yosemite back in ’89 when my sister and I were at that angry sibling/annoying sibling stage. We were in the back seat and, about every 30 seconds, she’d slam her fist into my tender arm and shout, “Punch bug!”

“Punch bug!” Bam!

“Punch bug!” Smack!

“Punch bug!” Thwack!

“Punch bug!” Wham!

All the way from Louisville to Peoria. Finally, when I couldn’t take another slug, I screamed, “It doesn’t count when you’re INSIDE a Volkswagen!”

She just giggled like a maniac while Dad pretended not to hear and Mom knocked back another Jack & Coke. Worst road trip of my life.

Claw Your Way To The Bottom

February 10, 2018

It’s happened again. Another kid got stuck in a claw machine.

I think it was Florida or thereabouts but it doesn’t matter if this was Mars because it’s one more time than it ever should have happened. Same applies to last time. And the time before and the time before and – well, you get the idea. In fact any time after the very first time is one too many. I mean, I’ll give you one. One time. Just so we can have something to talk about and recollect. “Hey, ‘member that kid that got stuck in that claw machine that one time?” “Yeah, that was sick, yo!” Now it’s all, “Daaaamn. Another kid got stuck in a freakin’ claw machine. Are these dudes messed up or what?!”

It really is getting to the point that we need to react not with amusement or scorn but with the cold discipline of logic. So once a child crawls into a claw machine we seal up the claw machine (as we systematically spay and neuter the parents) and ship it off to a special island or facility where the child can be adopted by people who can instill a modicum of common sense. Once there, we can raise all the claw machine children as a special army or workforce or volunteer corps or whatever the hell society needs most – and, before you protest with cries of slavery or injustice amid the throes of whatever liberal guilt or political correctness that grips you, just understand that whatever fate befalls these claw machine moppets it will be a damn sight better than anything that awaits them as children of parents who ALLOW THEIR DAMN KIDS TO CRAWL INTO CLAW MACHINES!

Seriously. Let’s just stop this crap before social services gets involved.

Tales From My Screwed-Up Childhood #8

February 5, 2018

When booking entertainment for your child’s birthday party, do you go clown or magician? Maybe you could get a comic magician or a clown that does a few card tricks, but really it’s a basic choice that even the best of parents have lost sleep over – clown or magician? Clown or magician? Or, hell, you could do what my parents did and pay a homeless guy five bucks to make balloon animals and pull a rabbit out of his hat. Only he didn’t have a hat. And that was no rabbit!


Babe… I got you, babe…

February 2, 2018

Since February 2 is the day normally set aside for the quaint observance known as Groundhog Day, it occurred to me that most people don’t honestly give these little critters a second thought any other time of the year. Shame. The groundhog is a versatile, widespread mammal, deserving of attention. And so, take a moment to familiarize yourself with the animal.


1. Groundhogs are rodents of the family Scuridae, belonging to the group of large ground squirrels known as marmots.  They have thick fur, a stout body appearance and laser vision for stunning their prey. 

2. Groundhogs are also known as woodchucks, land beavers and whistlepigs. They are sometimes called “the libertarians of the forest.”  

3. Common predators for the groundhog include wolves, coyotes, bobcats, bears, hawks, owls, deer, foxes, turkeys, sea snails, tarantulas, cochlear implants and artists of the Romantic movement (1800-1850). Pretty much everyone hates the furry little bastards.

4. The world’s most famous groundhog is undoubtedly Punxsutawney Phil, fabled for his weather prognostications. Phil is looked after by a group of enthusiasts known as the Punxsutawney “Save the Bearded Owls” Club. A select group, called the Inner Circle, also plan the annual Groundhog Day celebration. Members of the Inner Circle are recognizable by their top hats and tuxedos. Yeah, these guys don’t date a whole lot. 

5. When alarmed, groundhogs use a high-pitched whistle to warn the rest of the colony of potential danger. This allowed the early Algonquians to use them as an primitive version of the whoopee cushion. 

6. Although many sports teams use animals as their mascots, no professional or college team uses the groundhog. There are beavers, wolverines, lions, bears, badgers, wolves, wasps, turtles, tigers, squirrels, rams, penguins, panthers, mules, owls, kangaroos, griffins, mastodons, eagles, falcons, ducks and cougars. But no groundhog. What? It wasn’t fierce enough? The University of California at Santa Cruz has the Banana Slugs, yet somehow groundhog doesn’t convey the appropriate amount of menace. Are you kidding me?   

7. The Bill Murray film Groundhog Day, which was set it Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, was actually shot in Woodstock, Illinois. As a result, the governor of Pennsylvania declared war on the state of Illinois. The resulting skirmish lasted for three months, killing hundreds of thousands of citizens on both sides of the conflict. 

8. How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? Two cords. Exactly.

9. Despite the name “ground-hog”, they are not made of sausage and are not associated with sausage products. Although the practice of “watch the sausage in the hole” exists, it bears little relevance to weather forecasting.

10. Broiled, poached or roasted, they taste like chicken!


January 29, 2018


Five First Date Conversation Killers

Story of redundant spleen removal

Euthanasia of elderly relatives

Scientology and/or Libertarianism


Costco-sized Lamisil supply in the back seat


Five Little Known Air Bud Sequels

Air Bud: Mixed Martial Arfs

Air Bud: Lord Stanley’s Pup

Air Bud: His Masters Tournament

Air Bud: Five for Biting

Air Bud: Closest to the Pinscher


Five People Whose Names I’ve Forgotten

My first girlfriend from 3rd grade

The lead singer of that band who opened for Pat Benatar (and the band as well)

My nanny

That woman in London on the roof of the youth hostel

All the guys who dated my mom (junior high and earlier)


Five New Days Of The Week I’d Like To See





The Weeknd


Five Video Game Character Fears

Fear of Italians – Donkey Kong

Fear of heights – Q*bert

Fear of Mike Tyson biting his ear off – Little Mac (Punch-Out!)

Fear of being voiced by Urkel – Sonic the Hedgehog

Fear of being enslaved by Keebler – Link (Legend of Zelda)


On Your Bike!

January 26, 2018

The video below may be the strangest thing I’ve seen since Jackie Gleason tripping on acid. It purports to be a 1963 Bicycle Safety Film but I think it’s really a perverse look into a post-apocalyptic world where apes evolved from men (and learned to ride bikes). These apes then allowed their offspring to roam the land in packs. Callous, sad offspring at that – the kind of kids who don’t even bother to stop when one of their own is horribly killed right in front of their eyes! Seriously, if this were a Bicycle Safety Film, why did the filmmakers fail to mention the cardinal rule of Scwhinn safety – don’t ride a bike while wearing a freaking monkey mask?!

I think the most amazing thing about this video isn’t the fact that, as a child, I broke every single one of these rules and was only slightly killed (true story) but that it reminds me of this most awesome video: A CHIMPANZEE RIDING ON A SEGWAY! Woo hoo! Look at him go!


January 23, 2018

Am I the only one who was bothered that Paul Simon kinda half-assed it with his song 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover? Great song – a #1 hit in 1975 – but at best it’s a prime example of singer-songwriter slacking; at worst, it’s false advertising and fraud.

I mean, look: it’s supposed to be 50 ways to leave your lover. But how many does Simon give us? A half dozen or so, really, at the most, depending on how you define “leave.” There’s You just slip out the back, Jack and Hop on the bus, Gus – that’s two ways to leave your lover, granted. But what about Make a new plan, Stan and Just drop off the key, Lee, and get yourself free – are these actual ways to leave your lover or just actions one might take if considering to leave or having already left a lover? And what the hell does You don’t need to be coy, Roy even mean? That’s not a way to leave, it’s an instruction to stop being an indecisive dweeb and make up your freakin’ mind!

So, honestly, even accepting these lame attempts at defining ways to leave your lover, we’ve got five ways to leave your lover. Five! Anyone besides me see a serious disparity here? Five is considerably less than fifty. And that’s an unreasonable stretch that can’t be attributed to pure exaggeration or hyperbole. It’s like Paul Simon wrote a song called 5 Ways To Leave Your Lover and the label said, “No, make it bigger! More than five! How about 50?! 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover!” “But, I only wrote five ways.” “Who cares? Nobody’ll notice.” Well, I did! I do! I noticed!

Paul Simon, you owe me 45 more ways to leave your lover! And you’re about 40+ years overdue.