Month: August 2008

  • Frankly Speaking

         I first met him backstage at the Flamingo Hotel in Vegas. I was involved in a hotsy-totsy, topsy-turvy lovefest with a little lady who went by the name of Joey Heatherton. Her real name was Jo E. Heatherton but I had wisely advised her to change her name to “Joey” since “Jo E.”…

  • Getting Your $10 Worth (Movie Reviews)

      Hollywood’s upped the ante to $10 for viewing one of their precious little “movies.” Add $54 for a medium popcorn, medium beverage and a box of Milk Duds (“The Blockbuster Bellybuster Valu Combo”) and we’re talking a pretty pricey couple hours. I’ll scribble a few lines to tell you which movies I believe are…

  • Whoops-eee-day-seeeee! (Pt. 4)

      It seems there’s a country named “Georgia” and it’s clear across the world. Why someone would name a country after a state is beyond me (except to fool people), but it seems that the Russians have invaded the country of Georgia, not the state of Georgia where I live. So I feel a little…

  • Life During Wartime (Pt. 3)

      They’re out there. Somewhere. Out there. I listen closely and can almost hear their dirty commie lung winds being exhaled. I sit and wait. Sit in the dark. Waiting. My finger is perched atop the trigger of a semi-auto bolshevik repeller. I am not afraid to use it. I’m surrounded by ample munitions, Doritos, gummy…

  • Where’s Waldokov? (Pt. 2)

      The news is ablaze that Russians are invading Georgia. I’ve been sequestered beneath my desk disguised in a unicorn costume (the last thing they’d ever expect to find in Georgia, what with unicorns mostly being extinct and all). But I’ve yet to see any commie aggressors. As this recent picture attests, if the Russians…

  • The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming! (Pt. 1)

      I’ve seen the headlines in the newspapers and heard the pretty anchor people on that magic TV box yammering about the Ruskies invading Georgia. Yow-zee ka-powzee wowzee! Apparently the commies are running amuck on Georgia red clay trying to slather their political nuttiness on the locals–– keep your lousy bread lines to yourself, comrade,…