Monday, August 31, 2009

Shake a Stick

Have you ever heard someone say, in reference to a large amount, that it's "more than you could shake a stick at"? At first I disagreed with this statement entirely because, on the surface, it doesn't make any sense. And then I tried it.

I don't know about you, but my arm gets tired really quickly. After about only 5 minutes of shaking a stick, my arm all but fell off. I guess if you were a really buff person who worked out a lot, your arm could last maybe 10 to 15 minutes, tops. So, the next time you see a whole bunch of stuff, unless you are really (and I mean really) strong, it's probably more than you could shake a stick at.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Hank Maximum: Attack of the Dogs

Fans: Your task this week is to spread the word about the adventures of Hank Maximum! Tell at least 1 person who you think would enjoy picking Hank's weekly adventures to check Hank out on the DMT! And don't forget to vote!

As Hank surfaced from his roll, he assumed his karate stance and found himself facing a giant of a man. "Who are you?" Hank demanded.


Instead of answering Hank's question, the huge assailant called out, "I've found him! Release the dogs!" Hank froze, not knowing what to do.

I'm a really good karate man, Hank thought, But I've never done karate against dogs before! As Hank's mind raced to think of what to do, three large German shepherds burst around the corner of the house and into the backyard. They charged towards Hank, teeth bared and mouths foaming.


The first dog leapt for Hank's face, ready to rip him to pieces. Hank reacted instinctively. He grabbed the dog's front paws, and in one whirling motion, spun and threw the dog straight at the large man who had thrown the gnome at Hank. The dog hit the man square in the face and both fell to the ground in a mix of yelps and grunts. However, in the time it took Hank to throw the first dog, the other two had closed the distance to Hank. One of them bit down on his pant leg and jerked his feet out from under him. The other would have had Hank's throat in its jaws, but Hank had put up his forearm just in time to save his neck. The dog have a vise like grip on Hank's arm and was not letting go.


I'm done for, Hank thought as he lay on the ground, fighting off the dogs. But no sooner than the dogs had knocked Hank to the ground, the sharp blast of a whistle drew them off. THWEEEEEE! Hank looked up and saw another man standing next to his original attacker. The smaller man said, "Take the dogs back inside. I'll deal with our visitor." As the giant escorted the three dogs back to the front of the house, the newcomer walked over to Hank and offered him a hand up. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding Mr. Maximum. We thought you were someone else."


"Who are you?" Hank said, still trying to make sense of what was going on. Hank brushed himself off and gently touched his bleeding forearm. Something about this man was familiar, but Hank couldn't quite place it.


"My name is Mr. MacCorkill," the man said. "We'll get you patched up once we get you inside." Hank, hearing about getting patched up inside, walked towards the backdoor of the house. "Oh, we're not going in there," MacCorkill said. "Please follow me." MacCorkill walked to the back corner of the backyard to a small tool shed. He opened the door and turned to Hank. "This way please," he said, and ducked inside.


Hank hesitated for a moment. This could be a trap, he thought. But then again, my mission details did send me here. Hank stepped into the tool shed and found...


1. An ordinary looking tool shed

2. A spiral staircase leading underground

3. A gun pointed in his face

Thursday, August 27, 2009

FWD FWD FWD!!!

It seems to me that there is a mathematical formula for determining how interesting an email is based on how many people it has previously been forwarded to. The formula is this:

G - E = I

In this formula, G represents how "good" something is. E represents each "email" address that the email has already been forwarded to. And I represents "interesting-ness" (how interesting it will actually be). So, if your cousin sends something directly to you and the subject says, "Dude, this is hilarious!" it probably is. But if you get something like the example below you'd better prepare yourself.



RANDY FARMER to Tom, me, Nicky, Lisa, narddog17, Bobby, tickledpink31, markt, Rick, Tina


This will put a smile on your face!


---------- Forwarded message ----------

From: Justin Case <jcase47@stuffaboutthings.com>

Date: Wed, Aug 12, 2009 at 8:02 PM

Subject: Fw: Half-human, half-lizard boy gets his G.E.D.


To: Sharon White <shwhite@aol.com>, Beverly Richards <brichard44@uphillcow.com>, Darth Vader <darth.vader@deathstarindustries.com>, Obi Wan Kenobi <owk19@lightsideforce.com>, The Emperor <palpal27@deathstarindustries.com>, Padme Amidala <decoygirl@naboo4life.com>, Han Solo <macdaddyplaya@scoundreltech.com>, Chewbacca “Chewy” Wookieberg <thechewster3@howlgrowlandscowl.com>, Jabba Hutt <jhutt@huttsup.net>, jango.fett@bhunterinc.org, Lando Calrissian <smoothtalker17@friendsbetrayalanonymous.com>, C3P0 <goldenbutler@uptightdroids.net>, Luke Skywalker <daddyissues@forcebalancer.com>, Princess Leia Organa <secretsister12@hologrammessages-r-us.com>, Yoda <biggreenmachine@reversetalk.net>, R2D2 <bigshot@spunkysidekick.com>


Hilarious! It made my day!


----- Original Message -----

From: glenda.buttersquash@yahoo.ne

To: spiderman36@swingaroundtown.com ; Kraven <stalker11@huntjungletime.com> ; Kingpin <bigbonedboss@totalcrimenetwork.net> ; May Parker <auntiem@oldcomicbookladies.com> ; Mary Jane Watson <redheadchica@distresseddamsels.org>; Green Goblin <glidermaster99@archenemiesforever.net> ; Dr. Octopus <eightarmedmd@animalthemedvillains.com> ; Ben Parker <greatpower17@definingheromoment.com> ; Curt Connors <iamthelizard@dualpersonalities.org> ; Sandman <beachbum14@dissolved.net> ; Electro <thezapper@ungrounded.com> ; Venom <blackversion12@dualpersonalities.org> ; Gwen Stacy <firstlove34@tragicfigures.org> ; Vulture <terroroftheskies@oldfogiebadguys.com>

Sent: Bluesday, August 02, 2009 13:07 AM

Subject: FW: Half-human, half-lizard boy gets his G.E.D.


This is great! Pass it on to all your friends!


From: Carson Walkadonnerton [mailto:cwalkawalka@yahoo.net]

Sent: Tonday, August 01, 2009 12:36 BM

To: Bruce Wayne <darkknight56@capesarecool.com>; Dick Greyson <backflipboy8@capesarecool.com> ; Joker <jokesonyou@clownface.org>; Selina Kyle <msmeow11@goodorbad.net>; Joe Chill <minorvillain@definingheromoment.com> ; Penguin <wobbles13@tuxedobird.net> ; Mr. Freeze <captaincoldsnap@icebergers.com> ; Poison Ivy <gardengirl5@deadlyplantpeople.org>; Scarecrow <strawhat@loonybinlarry.com>; Clark Kent <wheresmyglasses@capesarecool.com>; Lex Luthor <chromedome7@lamebadguys.net> ; Lois Lane <senoritascoop@distresseddamsels.org> ; Brainiac <hackattackjack@evvilrobotz.com> ; Wonder Woman <herolady19@samebutfemale.net>; Dooms Day <buzzkill@alienkillerthing.net> ; Green Lantern <greenie12@noyellowplease.com>

Subject: Fw: Half-human, half-lizard boy gets his G.E.D.


Brilliant!


--- On Fri, 7/31/09, Bobby Borkostolp <b.borkostolp@yahoo.net> wrote:

Subject: Fw: Half-human, half-lizard boy gets his G.E.D.

To: "Frodo" <bigguy17@hairyfeetz.org>, "Sam" spunkysidekick.com>, "Gandalf" <graytowhite@wizmasterman.net>, "Aragorn" <rightfulheir99@att.org>, "Saruman" B-Tray@badboyz4eva.com>, "Gollum" , "Gimli" <natrualsprinter@chopemup.org>, "Legolos" <blondie15@kindofimmortal.net>, "Arwen" <makeupyourmind@kindofimmortal.net>, "Sauron" <needvisine12@giantflamingeyeball.net>, "Bilbo Baggins" <ringfinder6@prequelstory.org>

Date: Friday, July 31, 2009, 10:58 AM








Please forward this to everyone you know, no matter mustard.


No virus found in this incoming message.

Checked by AVG - www.avg.com

Version: 8.5.392 / Virus Booger Database: 270.13.44/2282 - Release Pate Date: 08/04/09 18:01:00

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Spitting Image

The idea for this DMT post came from my good friend and former roommate Kent Owens. Kent, image shmimage.


We’ve all heard someone say something like “Tony is the spitting image of his uncle Frank.” And while most people just dismiss the phrase “spitting image” as one of life’s unsolvable mysteries, there is an actual historical origin for the phrase.


In 1907, independently wealthy British nobleman Sir Clarence Tippington decided he would spend a year in Argentina. While there, Sir Clarence, who was very interested in the study of animals, encountered something strange. While traveling in Argentina, Sir Clarence came across a llama that had unusually shaped head. Sir Clarence asked the man who owned the llama what kind of llama it was. The man, via a translator, responded that it was a “picture llama”. Sir Clarence, unfamiliar with the term “picture llama”, asked the man to explain further. The man grabbed Sir Clarence by the arm and pulled him face to face with the llama. The llama just stared at Sir Clarence for about a minute and turned its head and spit on the ground. At first Sir Clarence was confused. Then he looked down. There on the ground was an almost photographic likeness of himself, outlined entirely in llama spit.


What Sir Clarence had “discovered” was the Argentinean picture llama. The Argentinean picture llama has several unique genetic features that allow it to produce its picture like images. First, the Argentinean picture llama has overdeveloped optic nerves that give it much better eyesight than an average llama. This allows the picture llama to process a great amount of visual detail. Second, the saliva glands of the Argentinean picture llama are tapered towards the end creating a natural ink jet printer effect. This allows the spit of the Argentinean picture llama to be tightly focused into recognizable images.


Sir Clarence was so amazed by the Argentinean picture llama that he bought several dozen and brought them back to England with him. They were the talk of London and were so popular, however, that Sir Clarence had to keep them all under lock and key at his estate for fear that someone would steal them. Unfortunately, a fire at Tippington Manor resulted in the death of the only 2 females that Sir Clarence had which prevented him from breeding them as was his plan.


The Argentinean picture llama became extinct somewhere around 1922 and Sir Clarence never had a chance to return to Argentina. However, due to Sir Clarence’s love of animals, we still use the phrase “the spitting image” to refer to a great likeness.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Kindergartners on the Playground

Tommy Jenkins: My Dad is the bestest Dad in the whole world. He changes the light bulb but he doesn’t need a ladder!

Sally Morgan: Nuh uh! My Dad is the bestest because he’s a doctor and does surgeries to people and makes them better!


Hando Matasuki: Well my Dad’s better cause he’s a ninja assassin and he can sneak up and kill people real quiet!


Tommy Jenkins: Yeah…well my Dad…he could kill people real quiet too if he wanted!


Hando Matasuki: Could not!


Tommy Jenkins: Could too!


Sally Morgan: My Dad…my Dad…hey!...my Dad is the best at sneaking!


Hando Matasuki: My Mom said that she saw your Dad at the grocery store and he wasn’t sneaking at all!


Sally Morgan: Yes he was! He was sneaking up on the tomatoes!


Tommy Jenkins: Why would he sneak up on tomatoes?


Hando Matasuki: Ninja assassins don’t even need tomatoes so there!


Bobby Horowitz: What are you guys talking bout?


Sally Morgan: Hando says that his Dad is the best cause he’s a ninja assassin and can sneak up and kill people real quiet and doesn’t need tomatoes but I said nuh uh that my Dad is the best cause he’s a doctor and he does surgeries to people but Tommy said that his Dad is the best cause he changes light bulbs and doesn’t use a ladder.


Bobby Horowitz: I’m gonna go play on the monkey bars.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Count Down Break Down

Today's post comes from guest author Taylor. Taylor runs the very funny My Older Brothers blog.


I like to consider myself a pretty easy-going person. I don’t usually let things get to me, and I don’t stress about much. But I think whoever invented the digital heart attack called “Distance To Empty” in my car is trying to kill me. It’s the setting on the overhead trip computer that shows you how many miles you have until you run out of gas. I can just hear him talking about it mocking my pain (“Beautiful, isn’t it? It took me half a lifetime to invent it. I’m sure you’ve discovered my deep and abiding interest in pain.”)


My minivan, I mean Corvette, has one of those trip computers. And its main feature is the DTE mileage. It estimates how long you have until you’re empty. Pretty neat, right? Wrong! It would be neat if it was accurate. But it jumps around depending on how hard you stop or how tilted you are when you park. So I can get in my car and see “DTE = 22 miles” and then back out of the driveway and see it plummet immediately to 13 miles. And then it does that accelerated countdown to zero. It doesn’t drop a mile for every mile I drive (because that would actually make sense). Instead, it drops 3 miles every time I pass a gas station. Then it hits zero when I’ve hit that stretch of road without a gas station for 10 miles. So I have to accelerate slower than a golf cart and coast as much as I can without getting hit by another driver. And just to be safe, I turn off my air conditioner and lean forward (I figure every little bit helps).


My wife thinks I’m crazy. She’ll drive on “DTE = 0 miles” for days and laugh maniacally as I squirm in the passenger seat (no, not really). And she’ll accelerate for no reason (“Not to fifty!”) Then she’ll toss the keys to me and say, “Your turn!” It’s like playing gas tank Russian Roulette. It reminds me of a show I watched when I was younger (Weird Science) where one of the main characters has a timer that counts down to his death. Watching the DTE drop to zero is like watching the countdown to my own destruction.


I just miss the good old days when I knew that having an empty tank really meant having an eighth of a tank, and you had to see the needle drop an inch below “E” before worrying. But this countdown business is going to put me in the hospital. I don’t think I’ve never had a panic attack, but I’m pretty sure I know what it feels like now. It’s like being in some kind of Pit of Despair and having 50 years sucked out of my life.


If you liked "Count Down Break Down", be sure to check this out.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Hank Maximum: The House on Lanko Street

Hank quickly looked around the restaurant. The note, a coded message from Hank's superiors, had just given him his mission details. Hank now knew that he was supposed to go to the house on Lanko Street. Hank quickly devoured his spinach omelet and walked back to the front desk to ask the attendant where he could rent a car.

He found the desk empty. The attendant must have stepped away to the bathroom, Hank thought. Hank looked down and saw that she had been doing a crossword puzzle in the newspaper. Then Hank saw it. On the page opposite of the crossword puzzle, scrawled in hastily written red letters, it said, "Don't let them find it!"

Hank quickly spun around to see if anyone was watching him, but there was no one. "May I help you sir?" a voice said behind Hank. Hank spun around, slightly startled. It was the desk attendant.

"Yes," Hank said, quickly composing himself. "Please tell me where I can rent a car."

An hour later found Hank turning down Lanko Street. He had rented a car from a nearby car rental place and had driven himself in his rental car to Lanko Street. I wonder which house it is, Hank thought as he drove slowly, scanning for any clues as to where he was headed.


As Hank drove past the last house on the left, he noticed that the yard was overgrown with grass and weeds. That's odd, Hank thought. Every other house on the street has a well manicured lawn. Hank parked his rental car in the driveway and then approached the front door only to find it locked. Hank walked around to the back of the house and tried the back door, but it was locked as well. By all appearances the house was deserted.


Maybe one of the windows is unlocked, Hank thought. As Hank approached one of the windows in the back yard, he noticed a reflection behind him in the glass. Hank ducked and rolled just in time for a heavy lead garden gnome to go whizzing past his head, crashing through the window. As Hank surfaced from his roll, he assumed his karate stance and found himself facing a giant of a man. "Who are you?" Hank demanded. Instead of answering Hank's question, the huge assailant...


1. Picked up another garden gnome and hurled it at Hank

2. Pulled out an electric stun gun and lunged at Hank

3. Called out, "I've found him! Release the dogs!"

Vote for what should happen next on the right side bar!

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Cave Man Self Tech Support

Hi, my name Grunk Dakthor. Me the President and CEO of CMSTS (Cave Man Self Tech Support). Me develop the CMSTS System for people like you, hard working Caveman and Cavewoman. If you like me, computer be very frustrating. Freezing screens, viruses, slow down load times; these cause stress while trying to operate computational machine.

And what options you have to fix computer box? You could throw it away and get new one, but that be expensive. You could have kid nephew come over to try and fix it but he always busy with friends and part time job at Dino-Burger. You could take computer to high price computer repair place.


Or you could use Cave Man Self Tech Support System. CMSTS easy to do. Here some techniques:


Two Fist Keyboard Slam- make two fists, bring fists up over head, use slamming motion and slam fists down on keyboard over and over and over


Mouse Rip- grab mouse at base, get you good grip, use strong jerk and rip from computer


Tower Throw- unplug tower, pick up tower and lift to shoulder, rotate you upper body to throw tower far away


Monitor Smash- unplug monitor, lift monitor above head, smash down on ground with big amount of force

Personal favorite of Grunk is combo of techniques. Me like do Mouse Rip then Two Fist Keyboard Slam. Then Grunk do Tower Throw and then do Monitor Smash on top of tower. If you do what Grunk say, you computer box will work again fast.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Magic 8 Ball

Most of us, at some point in our lives, have consulted the advice of a Magic 8 Ball. Sometimes the questions are in jest (Will my loser brother Steve ever get another girlfriend?..."Don't count on it"). And some people ask the Magic 8 Ball the big questions (Should I ask my brother Steve’s ex-girlfriend Brenda to marry me?..."Signs point to yes"). Whatever our questions were, we know the types of answers the Magic 8 Ball would give: "Outlook good" or "My sources say no" or "Ask again later".

However, a recent lawsuit unsealed documents that included the transcript of the brainstorming session at which the Magic 8 Ball answers were decided. Among other things, the transcript reveals several suggestions for Magic 8 Ball answers that never made it into production. The failed responses range from the normal, to the slightly odd, to the down right strange. Here are the rejected Magic 8 Ball answers.

Yes Answers

Go for it!

Yes, Yes, a thousand times Yes!

No Answers

Not in a million years.

Don’t even think about it.

Ambiguous Answers

Who cares?

What’s the worst that could happen?

Why not?

You tell me.

Don’t you really already know the answer?

You are stupid for even asking.

Weird Answers

Buy Smoothio’s Cigarettes!

Doomsday is April 17, 1998

Big Brother is watching you…

STOP LAUGHING AT ME!!!!
If you're reading this, I'm already dead...

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Mafia Advice Column with Joey Blambino

[Assuming people send their dilemmas (real or made-up) to joeyblambino@gmail.com, the Mafia Advice Column will be featured on the DMT every Tuesday.]

Dear Joey,
A young attorney lives next door to Granny who has 3 big dogs in the yard which constantly leave poo droppings everywhere and on a hot summer day, the stench is hardly bearable. We've asked him repeatedly to correct the problem, with no results. How should we handle it?

Aroma Monitor

AM,
Heyyyyyeee! Poo droppings?!? Who does dis guy think he is over there? Let me tell you what would happen if this punk lived next door to me. You gots to keep in mind there are certain proper channels you gots to go through here.

First, take your favorite baseball bat over to Mr. Stinker's house in the middle of the night and politely kick his door in. Second, start smashing up the place. Thirds, after the bozo stumbles out of his bedroom, knock him once in the head to get his attention. Then drag the idiot out back where his beloved pooches have been leavin' their piles-o-poo. Find you a nice big pile and then do like they tell you in obedience school: rub his nose in it.

Joey

Legal Copy: All advice given in the Mafia Advice Column is for entertainment purposes only. Do not actually do what Joey says or you'll probably go to jail.


Monday, August 17, 2009

Old Wives' Tails

“Old” is a relative term. A baby is not considered “old” a week after it has been born, but we would consider last week’s TV Guide to be “old”. There are many things like that in the world. But the one I’d like to know about is wives. When is it that women go from blushing brides to old wives? And at what point do they start to develop their tails?

I’ve heard about old wives’ tails for years, but I have yet to see a woman with a tail. I can only assume that old wives buy special pants that somehow hide their tails or that they wear baggy clothing or large coats to keep their tails from being seen. And what kind of tail is it? Is it prehensile like a monkey’s tail that can be used to grasp things? Is it a defensive mechanism like in some lizards? Does it wag when the old wives are happy?


Everything I’ve heard about old wives’ tails has been in a negative light. “Don’t believe that, it’s just an old wives’ tail” or “Go ahead, it’s safe. That business about it being bad for you is just an old wives’ tail”. From the way it’s talked about, the tail of an old wife seems to be something that causes poor judgment or decreased brain function because everything associated with old wives’ tails seems to be inaccurate.


Biologically speaking, the development of another appendage late in life would probably take a great deal of energy on the part of the body. This effort must cause vital nutrients and blood flow that normally would go to the brain to be diverted to the newly developing tail, hence resulting in the previously mentioned decreased brain function and lack of judgment that causes all these old wives to come up with their inaccurate notions.


But what is it about marriage that causes the onset of the old wives’ tail? Why do single older ladies not develop these tails like their married counterparts? All in all, I believe that more medical funding needs to be dedicated to the research of what, exactly, causes old wives to grow tails.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Hank Maximum: The Mysterious Man in Black

As Hank walked into his room a flicker of movement caught his eye. Reacting instinctively, Hank whipped his pistol out and took aim. Hank found himself pointing his gun at a mysterious man in black. Even though Hank had his gun pointed directly at the man, the man did not seem uncomfortable.

"Who are you?" Hank asked, ready for any sudden movement.


"They want to find it," the man said. "Don't let them find it."

"What are you talking about?" Hank asked, beginning to feel like something strange was going on. "Who wants to find what?"

"Don't let them find it," the man said again. Then the man began to laugh, slowly at first then growing into a full blown cackle. "Heh...heh heh...he he he...Ha Ha....HA HA HA HA!!!"

Hank was freaking out. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself and now he had a crazy stranger laughing himself silly in his hotel room. I've got to make him be quiet, Hank thought. Hank quickly walked over to the man, who was still laughing so hard that he didn't even see Hank approaching. Hank stepped behind the man and swung the butt of his gun down against the back of the man's head to knock him out. As Hank's gun connected, Hank woke up.

Hank was confused. He looked around his hotel room. He was lying in his bed, sweating. It was only a dream, Hank thought. He looked up over at the alarm clock/radio and it had come on. The morning DJ had a guest on the air and both of them were laughing about something. Relieved that the mysterious man in black had only been a bad dream, Hank got up, showered, and went down stairs for breakfast.

As he entered the lobby, the girl at the desk said, "Mr. McDunkervan? Someone left a message for you."

Hank walked over to the desk and accepted the piece of paper that the girl handed to him. Hank went into the hotel's restaurant, ordered an omelet, and then read his message.

"Dear Waldo,
I'm glad that you have come home for a visit. It's been a long time since the whole family has been in town. Mother will be so glad to see you. Call me once you're settled in. I've moved out of my old apartment into a house on Lanko Street. My new number is 555-555-5556.

Your sister,

Maggie McDunkervan"


Hank quickly looked around the restaurant. The note, a coded message from Hank's superior's, had just given him his mission details. Hank now knew that he was supposed to...

1. Find the mother of a woman named Maggie
2. Call the phone number
3. Go to the house on Lanko Street

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Kolikk: Kids Heavy Metal Band

PRESS RELEASE:

This Press Release is to formally announce the 1st studio album of kids heavy metal band Kolikk! Kolikk have been playing the underground kids heavy metal circuit in Europe for years and are now bringing their signature sounds to the U.S. for the first time. Their debut album, Diaper Razsh, has already climbed to number 8 on the Billboard charts and shows no signs of stopping.

"Diaper Razsh is a masterpiece" says Rolf Dungerdorf of Blender magazine. "It's sure to please both head bangers and toddlers alike." Paul Glamordi of Rolling Stone calls Diaper Razsh "a cross between Dr. Seuss and Metallica with a little insanity sprinkled on top."

Kolikk is comprised of: 7 year old Brutus Hammerstein (lead vocals, guitar), 9 year old Markus Ramfeld (bass guitar, backing vocals), 7 year old Franz Ramfeld (drums, backing vocals), and the multi-talented 6 year old Boris Van Jamus (lead guitar, kazoo, tuba, accordion, the spoons, banjo).

Tracks off of Diaper Razsh include:

1. “One, Two the Cow Says Moo!”

2. “Seven Swords of Death”

3. “Tiny Little Kitty Up in a Tree”

4. “Midnight Sacrifice”
5. “Happy Hippos (the Counting Song)”
6. “Whiskey, Weapons, and Women”

7. “Charlie the Chicken and the Barnyard Boogie”

8. “River of Blood”

9. “The Moon, Mommy, and Me!”

10. “Bride of the Apocalypse”

11. “Splashy Splashy in my Bathy”

12. “Dark Harvest of Souls”

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Alternate Nursery Rhyme

Thanks to Earl Metcalf (my Dad and rockin' musician) for submitting this idea to the DMT! Thanks for teaching me how to rock Dad!

Old King Cole was a merry old soul, and a merry old soul was he;

He called for his pipe in the middle of the night

And he called for his fiddlers three.

And those fiddlers started jamming on this really rockin' groove. And then Old King Cole got really into that cool fiddle groove so he called for a bass player and the bass player started layin' down a really funky bass line and Old King Cole was like, "Yeah, that's really nice bro!". And then Old King Cole called for this really cool cat drummer who started putting some nifty beats on the fiddle/bass groove and then Old King Cole called for a trumpet player and a organist and a guitar player and they all started jamming and were rockin' Old King Cole's castle. And then Old King Cole took a 10 minute extended pipe solo and was just tearin' it up with the most amazing pipe licks you've ever heard.

But then somebody in the castle next door called the cops on Old King Cole's midnight jam session and they thought they would have to stop playing. But it turned out that the cop was like the most rad harmonica player in the whole kingdom so he just joined right in and they cranked up the volume all the way to 11 and kept rockin' all night long!

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Mafia Advice Column with Joey Blambino

[Assuming people send their dilemmas (real or made-up) to joeyblambino@gmail.com, the Mafia Advice Column will be featured on the DMT every Tuesday.]


Joey Blambino holds a degree from the School of Hard Knocks, is a member of the PTA at his daughter's school, and is an all around wiseguy. Joey's years as a respected mob enforcer have given him a unique perspective on life. In his column, Joey shares his one-of-a-kind advice on everything from raising children to financial strategy to breaking kneecaps.


Dear Joey,

Just recently, there was a lightning strike at my house. The lightning strike fried my Xbox and I don't when or if I can get it replaced. What should I do?


Grieving Gamer


GG,

My kid nephew got one of them Xbox video games machines for his birthdays last summer. Three weeks he had it and it went dead on him on account of him spilling soda all over it. Seein’ as how it was his fault and all, those jerks over at Microsoft wouldn’t replace it for him. So I’m gonna tell you what I told him, so listen up.


Go down to pier 19 and find this mook called Freddy the Fish. This guy’s got a truck full of stolen electronics that he needs to move. Tell him I sent you and he’ll give you anything you ask for.


Joey


Legal Copy: All advice given in the Mafia Advice Column is for entertainment purposes only. Do not actually do what Joey says or you'll probably go to jail.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Filthy Rich

Have you ever heard of someone being “filthy rich”. This makes no sense to me. It would seem that people who have loads of money could, at the very least, afford to purchase the sanitation supplies and/or equipment to be hygienically clean rich. And most people who fall into the “filthy rich” category could most likely afford to hire a cleaning crew to ensure that the aforementioned filth wasn’t a problem. I know that there are services which provide people to clean and maintain landscaping and home exteriors. There are also services which provide care for everything on the interior of a house: kitchen, bathrooms, laundry, even pet grooming.


But what about the problem of filth being all over these rich people? Are there services to handle that? And if so, what do they cost? What is the going rate to have someone come over and brush your teeth for you? Or remove the earwax from your ears?


But perhaps the most pressing question in this whole dilemma is not how to remove the filth from the rich people but where is this filth coming from in the first place? Are rich folks going swimming in the sewers? Are they rolling around in compost piles? Are they wrestling entire herds of skunks? If anyone knows the answer, please tell me!

Friday, August 7, 2009

Hank Maximum: The Man from Scotland

The vote on last week's Hank Maximum was the closest yet with the choice being decided by just 1 vote! Make sure to vote for your choice of what should happen next on the right side bar!

"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 Scotland."


Hank thought for a moment, his teddy bear hostage still in his hand. “How do I know you’re telling the truth Stavich?” Hank asked.


“I have it all on video,” Stavich said, still looking uneasy that Hank was threatening his stuffed animal. “Please, do not hurt my teddy and I will show you the tape.” Stavich walked to the cat walk’s ladder and began to slowly climb down. Hank cautiously kept his gun trained on Stavich, ready for any surprises. However, when Stavich reached the floor he said, “Please follow me to the surveillance room and I will show you everything you want to see.”


Hank followed Stavich deeper into the back of the warehouse and into a room in which one wall was covered with monitors. Stavich sat down in the vacant chair and brought up the footage as he had promised. The video quality was a little grainy, but the audio was clear. The video showed Stavich and a man in a suit sitting in an office talking.


Stavich: It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Communicating only through anonymous emails can be tiresome Mr. …?
Gunn: For the purposes of this meeting you may call me Mr. Gunn. Do you have the microchip?

Stavich: Very well Mr. Gunn. [pulls a small black case from beneath his desk] It’s right here. And my money?

Gunn: It has been transferred to the account number you provided.

Stavich: [checks computer screen, smiles, and slides the case across the desk] Very good Mr. Gunn. It’s a pleasure doing business with you. [both men stand, Stavich opens a drawer and extends a bear to Gunn] Can I interest you in one of my fine teddy bears Mr. Gunn? They are the finest in the world.

Gunn: [takes the bear and looks it over] This is a fine bear Mr. Stavich. But the finest teddy bears in the world come from my Scotland.


Stavich ended the video and looked up at Hank. “As you can see, Mr. Gunn (if that’s his real name) bought the microchip, just as I said. Now please, do not hurt my teddy.”

Hank placed the bear on the desk and then handcuffed Stavich to a water pipe. Hank then took out his cell phone and dialed a number. “This is Hank Maximum…I’ve captured Stavich, but the microchip is headed to Scotland with someone using the name ‘Mr. Gunn’…Yes sir, I’ll head to Scotland right away…Of course sir."


END CHAPTER 1


CHAPTER 2


As Hank's plane touched down in Scotland the sun was setting. Hank caught a taxi and told the driver where his hotel was. As they drove, the cab driver struck up a conversation. "What brings you to Scotland?" he asked.


"I'm here on vacation," Hank said, using his standard cover story.


The cab driver eyed Hank through the rear view mirror. "I've been driving a cab for over 20 years," he said, "and you're not on vacation. The suit, the small suitcase, the tired look on your face. You're here on a business trip."


Hank, slightly annoyed that the cab driver had seen through his cover story so easily, said, "Look just get me to my hotel okay?"


"Whatever you say," the cab driver said.


A few moments later they reached Hank's hotel. Hank checked in under the fake name Waldo McDunkervan and took the elevator up to his room. As Hank walked into his room a flicker of movement caught his eye. Reacting instinctively, Hank whipped his pistol out and took aim. Hank found himself pointing his gun at...


1. A large cat.

2. A mysterious man in black.

3. A curtain blowing in the breeze.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Dracula at the Bank

Dracula: "I don't see why I should have to pay this overdraft fee. I have your No Overdraft Worries option on my checking account. Shouldn't that protect me from having to pay this overdraft fee?"

Teller: "No sir, it doesn't work that way. The No Overdraft Worries option only
protects you from overdrafts themselves, not from overdraft fees. You still owe the $35 for the overdraft fee."

Dracula: "That doesn't make any sense. If I am protected from overdrafts
themselves, how did I overdraft in the first place to have to pay this overdraft fee? Do you see what I'm saying?"

Teller: "Yes sir, I understand you. However, that is not the way the No
Overdraft Worries option works. The No Overdraft Worries option only protects you from overdrafts themselves, not from overdraft fees. You still owe the $35 for the overdraft fee."

Dracula: "That's exactly what you just said. You just repeated yourself. Look,
can I talk to your manager? I want to talk to someone who can do something for me."

Teller: "The manager is at lunch right now, he'll be back at 1:00. Would you
like to wait for him?"

Dracula: "No, I have a dentist appointment at 1:30. I'll just come back later."


Now, have you been paying close attention? What is wrong with this scenario?

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Super Hero Horiscopes

CAPRICORN - (Dec 22 - Jan 19) Your ice blast powers will come in handy when your house catches on fire. Don’t forget to file your taxes on time. A chance encounter with your auto-mechanic will lead to passion. Don’t doubt yourself. There is more to happiness than Hot Pockets.

AQUARIUS - (Jan 20 - Feb 18) The ability to breathe underwater does not make you exempt from the laws of etiquette. You have a problem with invading other people’s personal space. Remember quality is sometimes better than quantity. And sometimes it’s not. Be aware of lawyers who have bad breath. A member of your family will eat chicken sometime this year.


PISCES - (Feb 19 - Mar 20) Your super-strength will save the day when you lift a tractor trailer off the road, unclogging a nightmarish traffic jam on the freeway. Other than that, everyone hates you.


ARIES - (Mar 21 - April 19)

With your x-ray vision, you should know better than anyone that you should quit smoking. Keep in mind that a mirror only reflects what’s in front of it. Don’t be discouraged if you fail. Only quitters quit. Take time to treat yourself to a guilty pleasure now and then. Avoid Post-It notes at all costs.

TAURUS - (April 20 - May 20) Use your mind reading ability carefully. Reading minds in an insane asylum could be disastrous. Ask out that person you’ve come to have feelings for. Don’t take no for an answer. Practice your penmanship by writing down the lyrics to “Gangster’s Paradise” by Coolio 1,000 times in a row. Express your inner gazelle.


GEMINI
- (May 21 - June 20) Telekinesis is cool but it will not win you that coveted part in “Fiddler on the Roof”. Practice your lines by learning them in Klingon pig-Latin. Don’t allow the attitudes of others to affect you. Keeping your eye on the prize can cause blindness if the prize is a nail, knife, pencil or other sharp object. Count to 63.


CANCER - (June 21 - July 22)

Teleportation will only get you so far in life. Eventually you’ll have to get a real job. Don’t trust anyone who wears clogs. Now is the time to invest in an ice cream truck. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and your ant farm closest. Things will improve after they get worse. Allow fate to bring the remote control to you in its own way.

LEO - (July 23 - Aug 22)

In a perfect world, your ability to become invisible would be the answer to all of life’s questions. Unfortunately you live here. Milk is not an effective anti-tank weapon. Examine all offers made to you via Morse code as they may be scams. It is in your best interests to interest others in your best interests. Your grammar is atrocious. Never use the bathroom at an Arby’s.

VIRGO - (Aug 23 - Sept 22)

Your newly acquired sonic scream will back fire when you talk in your sleep and destroy the apartment above yours. Bronzed seagulls do not make suitable wedding gifts unless expressly registered for. Never let the man get you down. You are a beautiful flower with limitless potential. Just don’t mess it up. Always sing the tenor part of “The Macarena” while driving to work.

LIBRA - (Sept 23 - Oct 22)

Super speed does not make up for your lack of good hygiene. While in line at the grocery store, someone will speak to you of political unrest. If an opportunity to bet on sports comes up, always go with the underdog. Your true feelings about puppets will come to light when your uncle leaves you his collection of marionettes in his will. You should always have something to fall back on.

SCORPIO - (Oct 23 - Nov 21)

While your heat vision makes for a great ice breaker (pun very much intended) at parties, it also makes it impossible to tell if you have a fever or not. Call every dog pound in the state of Vermont and ask them if they’ve seen the movie “All Dogs Go to Heaven”. Feel free to express your emotions through interpretive dance. Not everyone who needs your help is willing to ask for it. Choose one day of the week to only communicate by screaming and stick to it.

SAGITTARIUS - (Nov 22 - Dec 21)

Overpowering B.O. is a really lame super power, but it’s better than nothing. Keep a close watch on your money. If you are feeling blue try painting yourself red. Avoid restaurants that serve calamari. Your emotions are who you are at the core. Don’t allow a rainy day to ruin your life. Order from the drive-thru in a made up gibberish language. Keep up the hard work and it will pay off.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Mafia Advice Column with Joey Blambino

The DMT would like to introduce its latest feature: the Mafia Advice Column with Joey "Blah Blah" Blambino.

Joey Blambino holds a degree from the School of Hard Knocks, is a member of the PTA at his daughter's school, and is an all around wiseguy. Joey's years as a respected mob enforcer have given him a unique perspective on life. In his column, Joey shares his one-of-a-kind advice on everything from raising children to financial strategy to breaking kneecaps.


Dear Joey,

My son Quincy won't do his chores. His mother and I have tried everything. We've taken away his GameBoy and even grounded him. But he still won't do his chores. He just comes home from school everyday and plops down on the couch with his nose in a book. I'm glad he enjoys reading, but he needs to learn responsibility too. What can I do?


Frustrated Father


FF,

Sounds to me like you got a punk kid what needs to learn some manners. You should do what my old man did for me: a good smack upside the head! After a few of those, Quincy will go from a bookworm to your own personal butler. Fuggedaboutit!

Joey


To get Joey's advice on your problems, email him at: joeyblambino@gmail.com


I know some of you are thinking that the email address is fake. Why don't you try it and find out?


Legal Copy:
All advice given in the Mafia Advice Column is for entertainment purposes only. Do not actually do what Joey says or you'll probably go to jail.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Snow Cones

Summer time means many different things to many different people. One of the things it means is snow cones. Snow cones, unlike their older cousins ice cream and frozen yogurt, do not get the same respect that other chilled treats do. They are only available during 1 season of the year. And the places that they are available are tiny temporary roadside shacks (often on wheels), that are barley big enough to fit a person in. Ice cream and frozen yogurt have entire, permanent, national store chains devoted to them, but not snow cones. Why, you ask? The answer is simple: flavors and flavor names.

Here's an example. Go to almost any roadside snow cone business and you will find that you can order a Tiger's Blood snow cone. First of all, since tigers are on the endangered species list, I'm pretty sure that hunting and killing a tiger so that you can put it's blood into a summer time drink is probably illegal. Secondly, the health concerns of drinking the blood of a tiger are many. So many that I won't go into all of them here.


And there are other similar flavors out there. Like Bahama Mama for instance. I find it hard to believe that with this cannibalistic flavor, more people in the Bahama's aren't taking precautions to guard their mothers.


And as lax as the Snow Cone Flavor Approval Association is with flavors and flavors names, there are some that have not been approved. Here are a few examples of snow cone flavors that did not make the cut.


Sugar Booger- just what it sounds like, a mixture of sugar and boogers

Rattle Snake Venom- test cases for this flavor sent most subjects to the hospital

Mustard Mushroom Mango- just plain gross

Roadkill- while popular with roadside snow cone stand operators due to it's low cost, the focus groups did not respond well to this flavor for some reason