Friday, July 31, 2009
“The bears, Mr. Maximum,” a voice said from up above, “are filled with stuffing.”
Hank looked up to see a man standing on a cat walk high above the warehouse floor. He was average height and weight and would have looked completely normal if it weren’t for the fact that where his left ear should have been was a terrible scar. Hank recognized him immediately. “Stavich,” he muttered. Hank quickly grabbed the guard and ducked behind a stack of crates in case Stavich started shooting. He found some wire next to a crate and tied up his prisoner. Then he looked back over the crates. Stavich was still standing on the cat walk, looking down. Hank called up to him, “I’m just here for the microchip Stavich. Just hand it over and I’ll recommend you serve reduced jail time.”
Stavich kept talking about the bears, completely ignoring Hank’s offer. “Most teddy bears are filled with rubbish. Simple cotton or wool or some other common material. But not my bears. My bears are filled with only the best 100% pure imported Japanese silk.” Stavich began walking back and forth on the cat walk as he continued speaking. “Their seams are hand stitched by master bear makers using techniques passed down for generations. Not like the mass produced, machine made monstrosities that are sold in your large American department stores.”
Hank was confused. Why does he keep talking about the bears? he wondered. Is he trying to distract me while more of his guards sneak up on me from behind? Hank looked behind him, but there was no sneak attack. Stavich was still yammering overhead about only using imported ivory for the buttons on his teddy bears. Hank had an idea. He reached into an open crate and pulled out a bear. "Hey Stavich!" Hank yelled. Stavich stopped talking and looked down at Hank. Hank hoisted the bear above his head and said, "Hand over the microchip or I'll shoot your precious teddy bear!"
Stavich looked pained for a moment, but quickly composed himself. "As much as I hate to do it," Stavich said, "I can not give you the microchip. I know you will most likely shoot my teddy, but I can not give you what I no longer have."
"What are you talking about?" Hank asked.
"I sold the microchip yesterday," Stavich said. "I did not know the man, only that he had traveled a very long way to come to Prague to buy the microchip. He said he was from..."
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
But what I want to know is how do you know the thoughts of the person who has bought you a lame gift? Because they don't write their thoughts on the card. It would be much easier if they did. It would be easier to know if the thought really is what counts if the card said something like:
I know you really wanted a new baseball glove for your birthday, however, I am too cheap to spend $20 on my only nephew. I hope that this box of dead leaves I raked up in my yard is close enough.
P.S. I want the box the leaves came in back. It is not part of the gift. Please mail it back to me.
If this was the case, then you would be able to say that the thought, in fact, is NOT what counts.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
He digs the bright city lights, he digs those city sounds
He doesn’t own a car, he uses public transportation
Like the bus or the subway, to reach his destination
Tim the Urban Panda doesn’t have a wife
He doesn’t have a girlfriend, he is alone in life
He works for a small publisher, printing direct mail flyers
He used be a paralegal but last summer he got fired
Tim the Urban Panda has a laptop PC
His TV is a flat screen, he likes to play the Wii
He met a girl this morning, he wants to ask her out
But besides “What’s it like being a panda?” there’s not much to talk about
Tim the Urban Panda likes jazz and R & B
But when it comes to hip hop he says, "Nah, it's not for me."
He reads comics books and cereal boxes, he can't live without espresso
And if you ask him if he's an omnivore he'll say, "I don't know. I guess so."
Tim the Urban Panda you inspire us one and all
With your quiet self assurance and your skills at racquetball
You make us want to discover our secret strength within
So Tim the Urban Panda, here's to you my friend!
Monday, July 27, 2009
For instance, if a nice guy is standing in the check out line at the grocery store and an old lady comes up, he will do the nice guy thing and let her go ahead of him. But where does that place him in line? Last.
So, it's pretty much hopeless for the nice guys, right? Wrong. The trick for nice guys is to find a girl to associate themselves with. If a nice guy is dating/married to a girl, then, by association, he will finish wherever she finishes. Let's revisit our grocery store example, but this time, our nice guy is with his girlfriend in line. The old lady walks up, but this time, the nice guy doesn't have to let her cut in line, because his girlfriend is already in line in front of him. Therefore, because the nice guy has another female with him, the old lady female is cancelled out and the nice guy does not have go to the back of the line. When a nice guy ceases being a him and becomes half of a them, he will no longer suffer under the "nice guys finish last" curse.
Of course, the other way for guys to avoid being last is to just be mean. So, the choice for guys who do not want to finish last is either get a girlfriend or be a jerk to old ladies.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Santa: Let this meeting of the Imaginary Individuals Inc. Board of Directors be called to order. Easter Bunny, please read the minutes from our last meeting.
Easter Bunny: At the last meeting we settled the issues of employee vacation allotment (no more than 2 consecutive weeks per calendar year) as well as Santa's elves' union problem. We tabled the issue of the Tooth Fairy's expense reports until this meeting.
Santa: Thank you Easter Bunny. Before we proceed to new business, let's get this expense report issue settled shall we? Tooth Fairy, could you please summarize your position for the record?
Tooth Fairy: My point is that, due to inflation and the state of the economy, I don't think that I should have to pay for each tooth completely out of my own pocket. I think that the cost per tooth should be shared between me and I.I. Inc. Corporate.
Santa: Thank you, Tooth Fairy. Let's open this issue for discussion. Agreements? Oppositions?
Big Foot: Personally, I think that it's just the cost of doing business. I don't see any reason why the rest of our profits should suffer to help the Tooth Fairy. I've lived off the land in the forest for years and I've never asked for a hand out.
Tooth Fairy: First of all, Big Foot, I've been to your “forest home” and I wouldn't call your underground, state-of-the-art mansion “living off the land”. Second, when you consider that the cost per tooth can range from a quarter to $10,000 for some of these rich kids, it's about more than just my paycheck here. It's about a pillar of this institution being in a fatal downward spiral.
Boogie Man: I agree with Big Foot. It's been a while since my division was in the black and it would put a pretty heavy strain on our budget to have to divert part of our funds to help the Tooth Fairy. Tooth Fairy, we go way back, so please don't take it personally. This is purely a business decision.
Frosty the Snowman: How about some sort of compromise? Here's what I suggest: the Tooth Fairy will pay, from his own division's budget, for 100% of all teeth up to $5.00 per tooth. For every tooth exceeding $5.00, I.I. Inc. corporate will share the cost with the Tooth Fairy use a sliding scale. Also, for special cases in which a tooth exceeds $2,000, I.I. Inc. corporate will pay for 80%. Does that work for everybody?
Tooth Fairy: I think it's a start, but…
Big Foot: A start!?! What more do you want?
Tooth Fairy: What about playground fights, car wrecks, and/or other instances in which a kids loses multiple teeth? Those aren't addressed in Frosty’s plan. I think…
Santa: Gentlemen, I've got a 2 o'clock tee time at Pebble Beach today, so we're going to have to wrap this up. Let's tentatively proceed with Frosty’s compromise and we'll work out the details via email. Meeting dismissed.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Hank took a quick survey of the room. Two of the guards were dead, the third just regaining consciousness. Hank looked behind him and saw the receptionist lying in a pool of blood and paper clips. She had been hit when the guards opened fire on Hank. What a shame, Hank thought.
Hank walked over to the groaning guard, jerked him to his feet, and spun him around. Hank shoved the end of his assault rifle into the guard's back and said, "You're going to take me to Stavich or you'll end up like your buddies on the floor." Hank marched the still dazed guard through the doors that the guards had entered from. It lead down a long hallway with a set of double doors at the end. As they approached the double doors, Hank noticed that they were locked with a retina eye scanner. Hank stopped and said to the guard, "Unlock the eye scanner."
The guard spat blood on the floor. "I will not help you!" he said with a sneer. Hank cracked the butt of his assault rifle against the back of the guard's head, dropping him to his knees.
Hank reached down and grabbed the guard by the hair. "You've got a choice. We can either do things the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you do what I tell you and unlock the eye scanner. You don't want to know what the hard way is. What'll it be?"
The guard, still glaring at Hank, stood up and slowly made his way to the eye scanner. He leaned forward and allowed the laser to scan his eyes. The doors made a cathunk sound as they unlocked. Hank pushed the guard through and then followed behind him. As they walked into the main storage area of the warehouse, Hank was shocked to see thousands of boxes. Row after row after row of crates. Hank looked down into an open crate. It was filled with...
1. Cans of Beans
3. Teddy Bears
Thursday, July 23, 2009
It is a question for the ages: Why did the chicken cross the road? The most common answer is "to get to the other side". However, I argue that there are other far more interesting reasons why the chicken crossed the road. Reasons that may shock you...
1. The chicken was in the CWPP (Chicken Witness Protection Program) and was being relocated to across "the road" for its own protection from the notorious gangster Johnny "The Hog" Paroni.
2. After witnessing the death of his friend Clucky, the chicken was experiencing a mid-life existential melt down and was in fact searching for himself on the other side of "the road".
3. The chicken was looking for land on which to start his own farm on which he could raise humans.
4. The chicken was an alien life form from the plant Zilbar 9 and was trying to find the best place to begin the invasion of Earth by the Zilbarians.
5. The chicken did not cross the road. Rather, the chicken stood in the same place the whole time and the road passed under the chicken, thus making it appear as if the chicken crossed the road.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
2. Physical Appearance
4. Economic Background
5. Sense of Humor
6. Personal Hygiene
7. Pet Preferences
8. Laundry Habits
9. "Neat Freak"-ness
10. Intellectual Similarity
11. Taste in Music
12. Taste in Movies
13. Taste in Literature
14. Culinary Preferences
15. Anger Issues
16. Ninja Skills
17. Computer Programming Abilities
18. Neck Size Preferences
19. Psychic Abilities
20. Time Travel Proficiency
21. Aversion to Weird Smells
22. Smooth Dance Moves
23. Hair Spray Usage (Men and Women)
24. Ability to Color and Stay Inside the Lines
25. Fire Arm Skills
26. Toilet Repair Proficiency
27. Typing (Words per Minute)
28. Fluency in Pig Latin
29. Glandular Problems
30. Sleep Walking
31. Sports Team Affiliations
32. Poker Skills
33. Hand to Hand Combat Abilities
34. Tax Evasion Methods
35. Video Game Skills
36. Chess Team Performance Record
37. Memorization Skills
39. TV Theme Song Lyric Recitation
40. Political Views
41. Belief in Extra-Terrestrial Aliens
42. Fake Passport Making
43. Ability to Walk and Chew Gum at the Same Time
44. Hypnosis Skills
45. Color Blindness
46. Basket Weaving Proficiency
47. Proper Use of "Who" vs. "Whom"
48. Dodgeball Skills
49. Certified SCUBA Instructor
50. Total Number of Nobel Prizes Awarded
51. Candle Preferences (Scented vs. Unscented)
52. Jealousy Issues
53. Well Traveled
54. Board Game Skills
55. Knowledge of Super Hero Secret Identities
56. Level of Voice Pitch
57. Obnoxious Friends
58. Outdoors Activities Preferences
59. Magical Powers
60. Bull Riding Skills
62. Good Business Ethics
63. Possession of Night Vision Goggles
64. Paper-Rock-Scissors Proficiency
65. Big Teeth
66. Duck Call Abilities
67. Total Number of Times Tasered (Includes Accidental Self Tasering)
And, if you don't find the love of your life using our system, we'll give you a 5% refund!
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
When I was in high school, I was a huge dork. I didn’t date, I didn’t go to dances, and I didn’t exercise (which explains the “huge” part). At the age of 16, I got my driving permit, which allowed me to drive as long as an adult was riding shotgun with me. My older brother let me drive one afternoon after school to help me get practice at what he called “real driving.” The only difference between driving and “real driving” was the fact that he didn’t hold me to every standard my parents did. So as long as I didn’t wreck his car, he was cool with whatever speed I was going. He didn’t make me check my mirrors or use my blinkers. And he didn’t care if the radio was on. It was very cool. The wind whipped through my greasy hair, and we laughed the day away, cruising down the main streets arguing about the real words to Eiffel 65’s “Blue (Da Ba Dee)” and loving life. I blame these euphoric feelings for the incident that followed.
We drove past a community park near our house, and I saw the girl at school that I had a crush on. She was jogging in the park about 100 feet ahead of us on the other side of the chain-link fence. Feeling bold and new, basking in my driving freedom, I had my brother lean back, and I waved out his window. I even honked and yelled her name as we approached so she’d see me. This is when several things happen in quick succession. Unbeknownst to me, I was tugging the steering wheel in the direction of my yell. So while the road turned slightly to the left, the car turned slightly to the right. I hit the curb with a thud (deafening crash) and hopped up into the grass next to the fence. My brother, having leaned back to let me shout over him, bounced up and nudged (uppercut) my jaw with his wrist. I then turned (yanked) the wheel back to the left out of instinct and slid (careened) back onto the roadway. I eased (fishtailed) back into my lane and regained control. With an aching (throbbing) jaw and hurt (devastated) pride, I looked in my rear view mirror in time to see the girl of my dreams laughing at me.
There was enough damage to my brother’s car to prevent keeping it a secret from my parents. So I lost my driving privileges, ruined any chance I had with the girl, and spent the rest of the year earning money to repair my brother’s car. My parents drove me to and from work until I left for college.
Monday, July 20, 2009
You sleep through your alarm clock. You are then jolted awake because the ceiling fan in your bedroom falls from the ceiling, missing you by inches, but managing to crush your cell phone to pieces. But you have no time to clean it up because you now realize you are late for work and can not call in that you are late as you no longer have a phone. As you rush to the bathroom to hop in the shower you trip over your shoes and end up falling headlong towards the toilet. You smack your face on the rim and chip your tooth. You fight through the pain and jump in the shower. You find that you have no shampoo at all and only enough body wash to clean half of yourself. When you exit the shower, you are only half clean and your hair is still dirty, but now it is wet. You have to skip breakfast. You get stuck in traffic because you woke up late and end up being 2.5 hours late for work. You get fired. Now you have gone through all the trouble of the worst morning ever just to get fired. You go out to your car to go home, but you have a flat tire and no spare in the trunk. You have to call a tow truck to haul your car to the shop and take a $50 cab ride home only to find that you forgot to lock your house and have been robbed of everything except your busted ceiling fan and broken cell phone.
As you can imagine, having "one of those days" is extremely stressful on the human body. Heart rate, mental stability, and blood pressure, are all negatively effected by having "one of those days". As such, most people can only physically survive 1 of "those days" at a time. Fortunately, "those days" seem to be spread out over the months and years rather than being back to back. This is why the expression is "one of those days" and not "one of those weeks" or "one of those months". On the rare occasion that an individual does experience 2 of "those days" consecutively, they usually do not survive. However, such instances are extremely rare. So, if you are having "one of those days", take comfort that tomorrow will be better. And if tomorrow is also "one of those days", you'll most likely die and then you won't have anything else to worry about ever.
Friday, July 17, 2009
After arriving at the warehouse, Hank walked into the front door, fake package in hand. He approached the receptionist and said, “I’ve got a delivery for Mr. Stavich.”
The receptionist, an attractive woman with striking black eyes, looked up and said, "We've been expecting you. And I must say, Mr. Maximum, that is just a terrible disguise."
"Well," Hank said, removing his fake moustache with a quick swipe, "I see we can dispense with the pleasantries."
The receptionist quickly reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a large hand gun. But before she could get a shot off, Hank sprang into action. He leapt over the desk and karate kicked the gun out of her hand, knocking her backwards. "Now," Hank said, straightening his shirt, "I don't like being tough with women, but you gave me no chURGHH!" The end of Hank's sentence was cut off as the woman, who had picked up a heavy metal stapler off of her desk, swung it with all her force and connected with Hank's jaw. Hank spun around, but kept his feet, and was able to dodge the second blow that would most likely have knocked him out.
As Hank dropped into a karate stance, the woman realized that she was no match for him. She dropped the stapler and reached underneath her desk again. But instead of pulling out another gun, she pressed a small button hidden next to the top drawer. An alarm began to sound. RHOOOT! RHOOOT! RHOOOT! She smiled at Hank and said, "You think you're so tough? We'll see how you handle three heavily armed guards!" As she spoke, three very large men with assault rifles burst into the room. Thinking quickly, Hank...
1. Attacked the first guard with a flying kung fu chop.
2. Grabbed the receptionist as a hostage and told the guards to drop their weapons.
3. Dove behind the desk for the gun he had kicked away from the receptionist.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
One would think, based on years of learning, that the smallest coin is worth the least and the biggest coin is worth the most. And it almost is...except for the dime. The dime, that platypus of coinage, throws off everything we think we know about coins. By all rational reasoning, it should be, from least valuable to most: dime, penny, nickel, quarter, fifty cent piece. But no, the dime had to go and mess with all our heads and be more valuable than it's larger cousin the penny.
And once you throw out logic, why stop there? Because of the dime's complete disregard for the laws of nature, we also have the dollar coin that's smaller than the fifty cent piece. What if we applied this reasoning to other aspects of life? We'd have 1 room grass huts worth more that 300,000 sq foot houses. We'd have a skateboard worth more than a limo. So, for the sake of all that's sane and good in this world, please, somebody, make this grievous injustice right and make all coins value be based on their sizes!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Phil: "Thanks Marty. As you can see behind me, the scene is one of complete chaos. No one, not even grandmothers, saw this coming."
Marty: "Can you tell us how it started Phil?"
Phil: "The authorities are still unsure as to exactly what happened. Some people here speculate it was a cargo plane destined for a pet store. Others believe that it is a sign of the apocalypse. Whatever happened, it has caused an estimated $8.4 million dollars in damage."
Marty: "Can you fill us in on any specifics Phil?"
Phil: "I'll do you one better Marty. I have here Ms. Donna Landers. Ms. Landers, could you please tell us what happened?"
Donna: "Well, I was walking in the park like I do every morning when a Pomeranian landed right at my feet. I just stopped and stared at it. Then, a few yards away, a Shih Tzu slammed into a fountain. I looked up and the sky was full of them."
Phil: "Full of what Ms. Landers?"
Donna: "Cats and dogs. Thousands of them. I immediately ran for shelter. It was carnage everywhere. A Great Dane came hurtling down and demolished a hot dog stand. I saw an old man buried alive under a mountain of tabby cats. I...I can't talk about it anymore. It's too terrible."
Phil: "Back to you Marty."
Marty: "Thanks Phil. In addition to the death, destruction, and monetary losses, the town of Nork Pines is also faced with how to dispose of all the dead animal carcasses that cover the city, which some estimates place at over 10,000. Ok, now let's take it over to Jerome with sports..."
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
Which angered the mouse greatly. The mouse then whipped out a bazooka and proceeded to blow away the clock's gears and chiming mechanisms until all that was left was a smoking pile of wood.
Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
One a penny, two a penny,
And the only way that delicious hot cross buns could be sold 2 for a penny is if the Hot Cross Buns Company has a monopoly, which is a clear violation of Federal Anti-Trust laws.
It's raining, it's pouring;
The old man is snoring.
Bumped his head
And he went to bed
Which was very poor judgment on his part because he slipped into a coma due to his head injury. He wasn't discovered until 3 days later when his worried daughter came by the house because no one had heard from him in a while and he wasn't answering his phone. Now the old man is on life support at St. Mark's and his kids can't decide whether or not to pull the plug.
Taking that into consideration, the good folks at Electronics Are the Coolest Industries have developed the "Soothing Sounds of Technology" relaxation tapes (the tapes are largely available for the sake of nostalgia as the vast majority of people just download the MP3's). Tracks from the "Soothing Sounds of Technology" include:
1. "Relaxing Dial-Up Modem"- relax as the beeps and boops, screeches and static of the rustic 56K Modem lull you to sleep
2. "Microwave White Noise"- feel the stress fall away as the soft hum of the microwave soothes body and mind
3. "Cell Phone on Vibrate Sitting on the Counter"- let the rhythmic buzz of a hard plastic cell phone rattling against a sound amplifying counter top slowly hypnotize you
4. "TV in the Other Room"- as the muffled voices and sound effects from shows and commercials come from your speakers, you'll swear someone was watching TV in the other room, just like in the good old days
Friday, July 10, 2009
Hank adjusted his disguise as he looked in the mirror. He was wearing a uniform for a local delivery company. Dark blue shorts and a matching shirt were complimented by a dark blue hat with the company logo, an envelope with wings. His glasses, fake moustache, and clipboard completed his disguise.
As Hank traveled towards the warehouse he thought to himself, “It sure would be nice if I could enjoy Prague while I’m here instead of constantly looking over my shoulder.”
Hank’s mission was to recover an experimental microchip that had been stolen from a supposedly top secret CIA research facility. The fact that the microchip had been stolen could mean only one thing: the secret was out.
Hank had tracked the microchip to Prague where he learned that a local thug named Stavich had purchased the microchip on the black market. Hank had “convinced” some local low-lifes to tell him where the warehouse was and was headed there now.
After arriving at the warehouse, Hank walked into the front door, fake package in hand. He approached the receptionist and said, “I’ve got a delivery for Mr. Stavich.” The receptionist, an attractive woman with striking black eyes, looked up and said…
1. “Wait here, I will go get him.”
2. “Hello Hank. It’s been a long time.”
3. “We’ve been expecting you.”
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
For first time ever, there will be zombies at the prom
They've promised to behave themselves; they said they will refrain
From attacking anybody and from eating any brains
The "No Zombies" rule was overturned by the mayor of the city
After weeks of protests by the Zombies Rights Committee
One zombie girl, when interviewed, was reported to have said,
"I haven't been this excited since I became undead!"
The pressure's on for zombie boys, who now must ask a date
But if they wait to long to ask a girl, they just might be too late
"I think it will be really cool," said the human boy Joe Miller
"I even heard that there's a chance they'll do the dance from 'Thriller'!"
No matter what happens, it will mostly likely be "the Bomb"
Because for the first time ever, there will be zombies at the prom
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
For example, on the second month of every year, "February Fever" sweeps through the state of Alaska. During "February Fever", Alaskans enjoy a month of high energy, non-stop thrills, extreme ice fishing. Businesses, schools, and even libraries all close so that "Feverish Fans" can go out and watch the action. The "February Fever" Classic Ice Fishing Tournament has been a tradition in Alaska since its creation in 1912. And while the FFCIFT is completely legit and legal, there is a large amount of money that changes hands due to underground gambling during the month. The name "February Fever" is somewhat ironic considering that winter in Alaska is extremely cold.
Another sports/month phenomenon is the "December Depression" which occurs in the town of Fleek, North Dakota. The "December Depression" is similar to "March Madness" and "February Fever", but in reverse. Fleek High, the only high school in the small town, is the not-so-proud owner of the most consecutive losing seasons in high school basketball history. The Fleek High Cheetahs have not had a winning season since 1934. Each December, as the Cheetahs begin to pile up more and more losses, the town again loses hope that the streak will end, and falls into the "December Depression". Suicides in Fleek go up 11% during the "December Depression", as do burglaries, DUI arrests, and jay walking all because the local basketball team can't win more than they lose. Those who can afford it just leave town for the whole month rather stick around and face the "December Depression."
Monday, July 6, 2009
If you agree with me on this, please contact your local Congressman and ask him/her to support the "Non-Human Language Communication Education Fairness Initiative" bill that will be on the ballot this fall. As our friends the ants say, "Kwict flakt, gweetr vinit!"
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Stefan's mother, Doris von Bluderstrattenstein, recalls that her boy displayed odd behavior at a very young age. "Stefan counted all the time," she told our reporter. "Sometimes I would find him standing in the front yard counting blades of grass and laughing like a lunatic. He would say, '2,237 blades of grass, 2,238 blades of grass, HA HA HA!'. Whenever I would try to get him to stop counting, he would go into a terrible fit of rage. I didn't know what to do with him, so I just let him count."
Stefan's mental instability was largely unknown to the general public as he found the perfect job to hide his illness. As Sesame Street's "The Count", his job description actually included constant counting and crazy laughter, the very two things Stefan loved doing.
However, Stefan's mental issues, combined with the fame and a wicked heroin addiction, brought what could have been stellar career to a grinding halt. His former co-star, "Big Bird" spoke to us.
"Stefan could have been great," he said. "But he let Hollywood get to him. This town can do strange things to people and Stefan was already strange to begin with. There was this one time that he started trying to count my feathers. Things got out of hand and we ended up having to call security."
The following was taken from the notes of the psychologist that evaluated Stefan.
"…the patient shows classic signs of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder along with psychosis. The obsessive counting, along with the uncontrollable laughing, are text book symptoms. The patient also displays the following additional symptoms: washes hands 13 times a day (counts as he washes), hears voices, paranoia, and night time thumb sucking."
Most people are unaware that "the Count" is no longer played by Stefan. After the "Big Bird" incident, studio executives fired Stefan and hired someone who looked just like him. Attempts to contact Stefan for an interview for this story were unsuccessful.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
Humpty Dumpty should have listened to his doctor and taken that prescription for his inner ear problem.
This little piggy went to market, This little piggy stayed home.
This little piggy had roast beef, This little piggy had none.
And this little piggy participated in a hostile corporate takeover of a large media conglomerate and made millions of dollars, but never made time for his family, so his relationship with his wife and kids is strained at best.
The Itsy Bitsy spider climbed up the water spout
Down came the rain and washed the spider out
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain
And the Itsy Bitsy spider sued the sun for defamation of character, lost wages, and mental anguish. The sun settled out of court for an undisclosed amount.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
And then there are those elementary school math problems that say stuff like "You have 2 barrels of apples. Each barrel holds 50 apples. Sally has 5 barrels of apples. If you give Sally half of your apples, how many apples will she have?"
How many elementary school age children have you ever known who have, in their possession, barrels full of apples? Or oranges, corn, or any other fruit or vegetable for that matter?
Also, assuming that this little kid Sally does, in fact, possess all this produce, why would I just give Sally half of my apples? Based on what the problem tells us, Sally and I are obviously engaged in some sort of highly competitive apple driven economy. The first thing I'm going to do is to try to undercut her price, not just give her half of my apples! Then I'll probably throw together some sort of slick marketing campaign that makes my apples look great tasting and friendly to the environment and makes her apples look like if you ate one you'd die within 6 hours. Sally already has way more apples than me and if she ends up with any of my apples at all, it will be because she bought them at a greatly increased price, not because I just gave them to her for free.
Most bloggers want to tell you about themselves (how they don't like their driver's license picture, how they wish they were taller, what they had for breakfast, etc) or about their politics (who they voted for, who they didn't vote for, what their favorite candidate had for breakfast, etc).
I just want to make you laugh. That's it.
Frequently Asked Questions about the DMT:
Q. What kinds of things can I expect to find on the DMT?
A. Whatever funny, strange, or weird notion I happen to come up with.
Q. When will new posts be added?
A. Mondays thru Fridays
Q. Will the posts be motivational?
Q. So why is it called the Daily Motivational Thought if it's not updated daily and it may or may not be motivational?
A. It's a humor blog. Don't over think it.
So that pretty much sums it up. Thanks for stopping by and enjoy.