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.

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

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

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.

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!