The angry protestors across America are being counted in their vocal protest of the U.S. Census that is underway nationwide.Count ’em– two barrels!“I don’t see no reason no government needs to know nothing about me and my family,” said a visibly agitated E. Granger Bycross of Alamo, Georgia. “Taint none of their business how many kittens I got in my litter. They come to my house to cipher, I’ll let ’em count two– double barrels of buckshot!”Count on Chester Wheelie to not be counted by U.S. Census.
Chester Wheelie of Keene, New Hampshire, is also one angry American. “We answer that census, next thing you know the federal government will be sending radio waves to infect our brains making us gover-zombies, begging to pay more taxes, have more socialist entitlement programs and requesting Fluoride in our drinking water. I ain’t falling for it! You can tell the government to keep their greedy hands off my Social Security and Medicare checks, what’s mine is mine. End of discussion.”
Helen Wilmunk of Ainsworth, South Dakota refuses to complete her census form because she thinks many of the questions are too difficult to answer.
“They want to know how many people we got living here. Well, there’s me and Darrel, and the kids, Stinky, Bubba and Weasel– but we also got six dogs and three cats who are like kin to us, and sometimes those dogs sleep outside. Now how we supposed to answer that trick question? It’s like those math books in school asking about two trains leaving Chicago going different speeds and we’re supposed to figure out when the dadgum trains will arrive in St. Louis. Well, I wouldn’t answer those trick questions either because don’t no one take trains these days. They’d just fly or drive!”Stinky, Bubba & Weasel are tough to categorize.And Jerry Fuddmork of Bald Knob, Arkansas is refusing to answer his census on the basis of what is done with the information. “The government says they need to know all this personal information so they can plan for schools, libraries, roads and other social services. Well, I don’t cotton to such socialistic notions. I don’t want my tax money going to build some road for illegal aliens to drive on. And schools and libraries are just a complete waste of money, what with so much you can learn on the television. Why, if I wanted to be a doctor, all I got to do is watch ‘House’— that lanky guy with the limp is cagey as can be. Ain’t no school going to teach you how to be like House– he’s the rascal you want to learn from, not some stupid school!”
Do Tiger’s new texts prove he’s Hubby of The Year? Could be. The guy’s a gem!Tiger Woods has been combatting a flurry of bad press concerning the explicit text messages he allegedly sent porn star Joslyn James over a nine week period last year during their alleged torrid sexual affair. In a surprising development, just before the Masters Golf Tournament, someone in Tiger’s inner circle of confidants has leaked a new set of texts allegedly sent by Mr. Woods to an unnamed person that may prove the world’s greatest golfer is a lovesick husband devoted to his wife– not some perv creepazoid. The anonymous source said Tiger would be greatly upset if these texts were made public, but, the associate feels the truth is more important than Tiger’s fragile feelings.
Here are the newly released texts.
Tiger:Sent: 1:06 PM 8/4/2009:
Been thinking a lot about breakfast cereals. Think I like Frosted Flakes best– could be the whole Tiger feeling bro-love for Tony The Tiger LOL Froot Loops is a close second.
Tiger:Sent: 1:07 PM 8/4/2009:
Changed my mind. Froot Loops is da bomb. Frosted Flakes make my teeth hurt. Too sweet!
Tiger:Sent: 1:08 PM 8/4/2009:
Who am I kidding? I mix Frosted Flakes WITH Froot Loops. I call it “Tiger’s Tony The Tiger Froot Loopty-Doo Mash-Up!”
Tiger:Sent: 2:03 PM 8/4/2009:
I love my wife so much;-) I would never ever cheat on her. EVER!
Tiger:Sent: 8:16 PM 8/5/2009:
Cantalope or honeydew for morning melon? Cantalope for me. But not if it’s too ripe. If it’s mushy, it’s in the garbage. Tiger don’t play that. End of discussion.
Tiger:Sent: 10:06 AM 8/10/2009:
I sure do love my wife a whole bunch. Gonna send her flowers, candy, box of diamonds and a luxury SUV with premium sound system. Maybe even a crate of Omaha Steaks!
Tiger:Sent: 7:06 AM 8/14/2009:
Was thinking about that guy Marconi who invented the radio, and how close his name was to ‘macaroni’, but he didn’t invent THAT cuz everyone knows it was done by Yankee Doodle Dandy sticking a feather in his hat and everything. Hey, I love my wife!
Tiger:Sent: 5:43 PM 8/16/2009:
Before I putt, I like to think about how much my wife means to me:-} Man, I love that woman! Makes me wanna write poetry…
Tiger:Sent: 9:11 PM 8/20/2009:
Fidelity is important in sound systems and marriage. I’m as true fidelity to my wife as possible, and that ‘sounds’ like the key to a long, successful, divorce-free marriage{:-)
Tiger:Sent: 2:41 AM 8/23/2009:
Having trouble sleeping. Miss my wife. Sting was right– the bed’s too big without her. I love my cupcake so much it hurts when I’m not with her:-)(
Tiger:Sent: 10:36 PM 8/28/2009:
Played golf today and found three balls– almost new!!! I love when that happens, but not as much as I love my wife:-)
Tiger:Sent: 7:12 PM 9/2/2009:
Forgiveness is the most important quality anyone can have, and I married a woman who is rich in forgiveness. It’s what makes her so lovable to me– her ability to forgive anything I may do no matter what! She’s got a huge forgiving heart and I really love her ;-})
Tiger:Sent: 10:30 PM 9/8/2009:
I hope no one EVER reads these text messages… they’re kind of embarrassing cuz they make me sound pretty head over heels for my terrific wife who I love so much. But what the heck, I am! I love my wife, love my wife, love my wife and that’s the TRUTH!
Tiger:Sent: 7:51 PM 9/14/2009:
Did I mention I love my wife? I do, I really do and would NEVER chase skanks because I want to stay married to my wonderful wife and not go through an expensive, messy divorce. These texts are on the level. Seriously– straight up on the level.
Vampire, werewolf, boring girl, oh my!I saw two movies this weekend, Hot Tub Time Machine on the big screen, and New Moon (part of The Twilight Saga) on the small screen.
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking– Scullin’s Mensa meeting must have been cancelled and he needed some intellectually-stimulating entertainment. Well, joke’s on you– I’m not even in Mensa!
Let start with New Moon. This is part two in the tale of Bella (Kristin Stewart), a high school senior who is gaga for a 109-year old vampire, Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson– he’s so dreamy, and he carries 109 very well!). Edward moves away so he won’t be tempted to suck Bella’s blood and make her one of the undead– but Bella is also kind of into hunky, pumped-up Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner) who becomes a werewolf and well, werewolves don’t like ‘bloodsuckers’ but see, they have a peace pact of sorts and… screw it. This movie is two hours and ten minutes of feeling like the undead.
It’s slow, it’s plodding, it’s a test of patience and perseverance. The character of Bella may be the single most uninteresting character ever brought to the silver screen. She is forlorn, she is pouty, she is withdrawn, she is longing, she is in the forbidden love zone. Bella is barely a one-dimensional character, and Kristin Stewart musters all her acting abilities to deliver this yawn of a human. Why would anyone, alive or undead, be attracted to someone this boring? Beats me.
Then again, I’m sure the fans of the book loved this film and love the characters. Hey, we all have to face choices like vampires or werewolves, and this movie plays out our dilemma. I just wish the characters had some life in them. Now let’s talk about something worth seeing.
Come on in, the water’s fine. Suit optional.Hot Tub Time Machine may not be one of the great comedies of all time, but it’s better than most of what passes for comedy these days. This is a film that has an inventive plot and a superb cast (although I could have done without Chevy Chase). Yes, it could have more production values, but this wasn’t a big budget affair. It’s just a good old fashioned raunchy comedic romp (note: don’t bring the kiddies unless they’re fans of f-bombs and plenty of compromising adult situations).
It’s a smart film with plenty of laughs and moves at a nice clip. The faces on screen are fresh: Rob Corddry (ex-Daily Show with Jon Stewart funnyman), Craig Robinson (from The Office) Clark Duke (you’ve seen him, you just don’t know where) and John Cusack, (who co-produced and always delivers on screen). The story by Josh Heald, screenplay by Josh Heald, Sean Anders & John Morris, is consistently engaging, entertaining and fun. Come re-live a lot of the awfulness that was the 80’s with a band of characters who are very alive, with nary a werewolf or vampire in sight.
Bottom line: Hot Tub Time Machine is worth immersion, New Moon could put an insomniac down for the count.
Bunny lays an egg for commie little boy.Fortunately for little Frankie Urbeenor, he sleeps on a very absorbent pillow. The child cried torrents last night after his visit to The Easter Bunny at the East Waverly Heights Mall in Port Arthur, Texas.
Easter is Frankie’s fifth favorite holiday, after Christmas, his birthday, Halloween and Thanksgiving, so he was looking forward to spending some quality time with Mr. Cottontail. Instead he was subjected to an angry political rant from a bunny who is also a part time Tea Party zealot.
Spectators reported the following exchange took place between Frankie and the Easter Bunny:
BOY: Hello, Easter Bunny!
E. B.: Hello, little boy– what’s your name?
BOY: Frankie. Frankie Urbeenor.
E. B.: Well, Frankie, I suppose you’re happy that Obama and his government thugs have taken over the entire freakin’ health care system.
BOY: Huh?
E. B.: Sure, what do you care, you’re a little kid and you don’t have to pay taxes so just let me work my freakin’ butt off and support little freeloaders like you so you can get sick and have pre-existing conditions, then use death panels to kill my grandma in Beaumont.
BOY: Ummm, I don’t know what you’re…
E.B.: Everyone wants a hand-out, don’t they? You’re all a bunch of socialists. The free market is too tough on you so you want big brother government to spoon feed you entitlement programs, don’t you?
BOY: I’m scared.
E.B.: Of course you are, kid. We should all be scared. The country’s being run by the antichrist, who wasn’t even born in this country, and he wants the government to butt into every aspect of our lives, then try to take away my 85 firearms and arsenal of explosives I have for protection.
BOY: I just want a chocolate bunny for Easter…
E.B.: Sure you do. Chocolate bunnies, jelly beans, marshmallow chicks, silver dollars and PlayStations, too– you want everything! And you want it all for free, don’t you? And why not, it’s no skin off your nose– just ask, ask, ask and expect others to deliver it with a pretty bow to your door. Well, listen up, kid-o, there ain’t no Santie Claus and you can’t have Christmas every Easter. You want a chocolate bunny, you work for it. There’s no freebies in life, buddy boy!
BOY: I want to go home, mister, please…
Fifty-six minutes later, paramedics used the jaws of life to remove the boy from the angry Kung-Fu grip grasp of the Easter Bunny, who was tagged with tranquilizers and taken away in soft handcuffs, designed not to chafe his fur.
Easter may soon drop from the #5 position of Frankie’s favorite holidays.
Tragedy strikes as giddy girls play joke on parents. The lesson learned: humor sometimes kills. Pity the poor Nakamura sisters, Mai, Miki and Hina–– they are now orphans thanks to their playful humor!!!!!
The three daughters thought it would be a funny April Fools joke to plant a bomb in their parent’s car. Their intent was to stop their father from starting the car, then show both parents their dastardly handiwork and shout “April Fools!” After the parents realized how close they came to certain death, the entire family would have a hearty laugh.
But tragedy struck when the young ladies decided to get some Frappuccinos at Starbucks. Their parents were at home and read in the newspaper that Macy’s was having a sale and became excited. They decided to take advantage of “Macy’s best prices of the season.” The family needed some new linens.
But parents Daigoro and Haruka Nakamura never made it to the Macy’s store. Their car exploded and was instantly engulfed in flames. The daughters heard the explosion walking back from Starbucks and realized their joke had become a tragic disaster.
On the bright side, the Frappies were delicious and the sale at Macy’s probably would have disappointed the parents (the prices weren’t all that great). The daughters are contemplating a lawsuit against the giant retailer for killing their parents.
As a kid, I attended St. Patrick’s Elementary School in Hubbard, Ohio. My uniform was sharp-creased navy blue dress pants with a crisp white shirt and clip-on tie. We had ‘lay teachers’ (ordinary civilians), but we were also taught by ruler-wielding nuns who smacked palms into submission. The pain told the brain and body to obey.
One tormentor-in-habit used to give me an open-hand whack across the chops because she thought I was tormenting her on purpose with my ignorance in math. I wasn’t– I really was that stupid with the ‘new math’, and her instilling fear in me certainly didn’t help matters. I’d laugh at her slaps (being class clown, I had to save face) which only get her angrier. But at least she’d let me sit back down again with one cheek out of four stinging.
I was subjected to some pretty inventive disciplinary actions by nuns: holding erasers with arms outstretched for long stretches of time or kneeling on the floor and placing my nose into a small circle that the nun had drawn on the blackboard. Gitmo had nothing on the good Sisters.‘Sister Smile’ sang, and I swooned.Regardless of my dark nun memories, I have fond memories of my angelic, idyllic nun: The Singing Nun, Sœur Sourire (Sister Smile), AKA: Jeanne-Paule Marie Deckers, a Belgian woman of the beads who recorded an international hit song “Dominique” in the teeth of Beatlemania. She appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show (I remember it and was captivated– it would be years later when nuns would subject me to their disciplinarian ways). They made a movie of her life where a younger, prettier woman played the good Sister–Debbie Reynolds.
The real Sœur Sourire had a guitar, a song and an angelic voice. The song “Dominique” would occupy a warm cubbyhole in the corridors of my consciousness. Years later, when the real nuns disciplined me, I would hear the joyful song of The Singing Nun and feel comforted. I believed She of the guitar would never have subjected me to pain. But I could have been wrong in my assumption, after all, she never had to teach me math.
Enjoy the song from the movie and let it take residence in your psyche. If you have a nun tale to tell, do tell. I harbor no ill will at the good nuns, they’re all saints to me. Some of the saints had a mean right cross to the head.
