The Lint Screen

Author: PD Scullin

  • Teddy Roosevelt’s Bucket List Discovered

    New discovery reveals there was much T.R. wanted to do before he died
    New discovery reveals there was much T.R. wanted to do before he died

    Tom Westsforshire, the world’s foremost authority on Theodore “T.R.” Roosevelt, recently discovered the ‘bucket list’ of the 26th President of the U.S.

    “Of course, back then there was no such term as ‘bucket list.’ TR called his list ‘Stuff To Do Before Dirt Napping’– same dif.”

    Westsforshire gave The Lint Screen this exclusive sneak peak of the list.

    1. Shave my stupid ‘stache and grow some epic mutton chops w/ soul patch
    2. Carry big stick
    3. Learn tap then learn how to ride a horse– teach it tap, too!
    4. Give cuz Franklin D. a noogie to end all noogies
    5. Visit Utica, New York, get a sauerkraut foot long
    6. Get mug done on side of mountain
    7. Ditch the glasses, get Lazik– swing!
    8. Wear lacy dresses and accessorize accordingly
    9. Get a stuffed animal named after me– Theodore Caniform?

  • Mourn The Rainbow

    A Skittles craving ends in tragically.
    A Skittles craving ends in tragedy.

    Trayvon Martin is still dead. He was a 17-year old African-American male guilty of buying Skittles at a convenience store and walking home. He was pursued by a 29-year old cop wannabe named George Zimmerman, even after the citizen vigilante had phoned in his report of Martin’s alleged suspicious behavior to the real police and was told there was no need to pursue. The real cops would investigate.

    What happened next was a fight and a dead young man. Zimmerman shot Trayvon.

    Zimmerman just stood trial and got off scot-free because Florida has something called the “stand your ground law” and Zimmerman said that he felt threatened by the young man he was pursuing and so he was in his rights to protect himself with the loaded gun he carried. Word to the wise: don’t want sit next to George Zimmerman at a horror film.

    So justice is served and Trayvon Martin is still dead, but if there is any justice, he will never be forgotten.

    Laws must change.

  • Leave The Lone Ranger Alone

    "Trick or treat!" Johnny Depp's an Indian this year.
    “Trick or treat!” Johnny Depp’s an Indian this year.

    Yes, I subjected myself to The Lone Ranger. Why? I didn’t think it could be as bad as it is. Stupid me.

    Weighing in at two-and-a-half hours and a $250 million cost, it’s a mess of a movie. This outing, Johnny Depp gets to dress up like an Indian (he’s done vampire, pirate, Willie Wonka, etc., he’s running out of costume ideas). Depp is Tonto and his side kick is Armie Hammer playing The Lone Ranger.

    There’s a story in here about good guys and bad guys and a railroad and lots of horse chases and runaway trains and people running and fighting and riding horses on top of trains and big explosions and well, you get the drift. It’s ACTION ADVENTURE!

    And it’s a yawn.

    Director Gore Verbinski (he of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise) has extras chewing up scenery as he tries to amp it up to 11, but the movie just kind of lays there. Not even the William Tell Overture can save the day.

    That said, it’ll probably be a huge blockbuster with sequels and a major attraction soon to come to Disney properties.

    Woe is me.

  • Cute Cat Kills Cute Girl

    "Cuddles" killed Sally to garner more share of cuteness spotlight.
    “Cuddles” killed Sally to garner a larger share of the cuteness spotlight.

    The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once said, “There is only so much cuteness in this world to go around.” And, brother, maybe he was right!

    This morning, a cute kitty named “Cuddles” ripped the face off its owner, a precocious and cute little girl named Sally Jeffers in Roanoke, Virginia. As a result of the cat-inflicted injuries, Sally bled out and will be retired to a plot in Mother Earth.

    “It’s tragic,” said Dr. Vincent Dundersin, the emergency room physician who tried to save Sally’s life. “There were claws imbedded in her cheekbone. That cat went wild with fury, but let me tell you, that kitten looked so incredibly innocent when I pulled it off her face. In fact, the little bundle of fluffy fur and whiskers meowed and purred as it gently licked a ribbon of her dangling ripped flesh. It was precious and adorable. The nurses and me just said, “Aw, isn’t that the cutest thing! Kitty misses his master!”

    “I believe Cuddles felt threatened by Sally’s cuteness,” said noted animal psychiatrist Dr. J. Sigmund Grengor, “and Cuddles took action for self-preservation. What else could he do? If an animal feels threatened, he acts.”

    Perhaps the level of cuteness in the world is stable, for now.

  • Advice From An Old Fart

    Pontification is good.
    Pontification is good.

    I was recently asked by the blog The Agency Post to give some advice to college grads interested in pursuing an advertising career. I did it but think the advice also applies to just about anyone in the market for a job, the kind with paychecks.

    Please give it a read. Feel free to add your own advice. It’s fun to be philosopher king.

  • Sticky Fingers Putin

    Putin stole my trophy!
    Putin stole my trophy!

    Now that Robert Kraft has ratted-out Rooskie leader Vlad Putin as a no goodnik thief, I want to tell my story of how the commie head cheese stole from me.

    It was April, 2004. I had been invited by the red bigwig because Facebook had recently been launched and the Vladster wanted to know if he should join–– and if so, what his “friending strategy” should be.

    As was my habit back then, I traveled with my second place spelling bee trophy from the fourth grade class of St. Pat’s Elementary School in Hubbard, Ohio. Although I was a junior in high school when I had won the trophy, I was proud of my incredible accomplishment and recognition.

    Anyway, I showed the trophy to Putin and he was impressed with its heft. “I could kill someone with this,” he quipped.

    “Yes,” I said, “and then write a letter-perfect obituary for your victim.”

    Vlad liked my joke and he crouched low and began doing that crazy Russin kicking dance. Then he kick-danced out the door with my trophy in hand. I went to follow him but six large K.G.B. agents surrounded me. “Bad idea, comrade,” one of them said to me. “Let it go, dude,” said another.

    So I did nothing. Later at a meeting, I requested that the trophy be returned, but Putin just looked at me, cocked his head and said, “And you are?…”

    Four years later, Putin finally did join Facebook and he “friended” me. I’ve yet to respond.

    I want my Buster Buzzy Bee-Bee back!