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.

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.

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!

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.

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...

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.

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.