Wednesday, June 29, 2005


The copulatory embrace of frogs and toads and, evidently, Clark Kent's alter-ego.

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Tuesday, June 28, 2005

This Week's SUPERMAN II moment: Poor Zod

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Monday, June 27, 2005

An unexpected comment thrown my way prior to a Kickball I participated in this past weekend

"You look like a pirate from that Johnny Depp pirate movie; not lik Johnny Depp but--y'know--like one of his cronies."

Which, I have to admit, I find fascinating as I was clad in typical summer attire (short-sleeved shirt, shorts, Chuck Taylors) and not an ensemble straight off the poopdeck of an Erroll Flynn-esque extravaganza.

Do I give this, for lack of a better phrase, Pirate-Vibe off all the time?

Am I akin to Hook's Smee?

Perhaps my gait IMPLIES peg-leg or that I suffer from rickets?

Should I bone up on my mumble-de-peg skills in case a gauntlet is thrown down in challenge?


Friday, June 24, 2005

An Attempt at Creating a brand-stinking-new Urban Legend involving Redd Foxx and a Walrus Tusk (a la the Gere/Gerbil legend) fails to take hold

Go HERE for details

C'est la vie


Thursday, June 23, 2005

This proposed band name may be a wee bit too long...and possibly inspired by the late Mama Cass

Fatty Myocardial Degeneration Due to Obesity and the Booya Pot Hamboners


Monday, June 20, 2005

A Post-Father's Day Mothers of Invention-related tale

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The image above is from Frank Zappa's 1979 release, SHIEK YERBOUTI. On Saturday, it was the image on the front of the t-shirt I was wearing when I went to the movie theater to catch a viewing of BATMAN BEGINS. The following is an exchange that went down between a Ticket-Taker Kid (TTK) and myself and should, in my opinion, illuminate the state of this country's current crop of Youth:

TTK: Who's that on your shirt?

Me (briefly taken aback by this question but, for the sake of not being rude to the kid OR pointing out that I find him deficient for NOT knowing who Frank Zappa is, I respond): Frank Zappa.

TTK (he looks again at my shirt, pauses a moment as if--strong IF--in thought): Is he a NASCAR guy?

Tony (stunned...flummoxed...boondoggled...agape...even more offended): No. He was a musician.

TTK: Oh.


Tuesday, June 14, 2005

One of the following was Overheard at Work today

"It was like I told him...I picked up the pig feed."


"I keep a kiddie pool full of turtles in the trunk of my 68 Falcon in case I feel like soup when I'm on the go, y'know?"


Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Definitely need to invest in some Godzilla Pants

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Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Workplace Confessional as One Act

Not-Even-Remotely-a-Sleuth Cubicle Monkey in The Case of the "Why the Fuck are you telling me this while I'm waiting for a report to print out as I am certain I neither acknowledged your presence nor said a peep in your general direction which, even if I had, MIGHT not really indicate that I was requesting info on the current health of your son but was, in fact, for a change of pace, being polite to a co-worker?"

Scene: Copier Room of an area employer

Characters: Cubicle Monkey and a female co-worker whom we will refer to as 'Far-To-Willing-To-Share-Any/All-Aspects-of-her-Life-Lady' or, for the sake of brevity, "Yakkity Yak"



Cubicle Monkey stands in-front of a copier/printer awaiting the 551 page report he had sent to it from his computer. Yakkity Yak approaches enters room and pulls up alongside CB. CB continues staring at the machine, not looking over to YY whom he *had* seen enter the room via his not-the-best-but-this-time-adequate peripheral vision. After a pregnant pause, Yakkity Yak matter of factly announces the following:

"My son has a bowel obstruction."

Curtains fall.

This short mystery (unsolved) starred yours truly as Cubicle Monkey and (unnamed) as Yakkity Yak and is based on an actual 'case' that happened mere hours ago.


Monday, June 06, 2005

A Seasonal Sound that makes me Physically Ill

Ah, it's finally warming up around my hometown and, with this rise in temperature, a large number of female-like folk are busting out the summer-y footwear that is guaranteed to leave me clutching my stomach when I hear it slapping into earshot:


Whether it's full-on Flip-Flop action OR the akin squish of sandals or mules (all of which, naturally, are worn without hosiery/socks/booties/medical guaze/molted snakeskin) that sick fucking slick slap of skin on footwear echoes throughout my place of work and everywhere...all for the sake of keeping their respective tootsies 'cool' and, perhaps, bowing to the dictates of the Fashionistas (the Fonzie-esque 'cool').

Well, I've had just about enough with 'em.

Do they even realize that their sweat-sodden flippers are squipping like mad as they, say, galumph to the cafeteria for their mid-morning Krispy Kreme?

How could they not?

It's this brazen disregard for their co-workers and peers that are sensitive to sounds such as these that has really gotten my goat, driven him to a bridge, and fed the poor bastard to a fucking troll (okay, not so much a TROLL as it was a clutch of ravenous homeless fellows led by the always peckish Charlemagne 'Neath-da-Span' O'Foop and the curiously named 'No Utensil Crew').

It's even MORE pronounced for the more girthy ladies...lotta water-weight trickling down through their under-great-pressure trotters (think plate tectonics only with flab and bone) and, hence, even MORE watery smackings.

Thus, I promise you the following:

I'm off to purchase several tubes of Denture Adhesive. Said oral-epoxy will somehow finds its way onto any/all offending footwear and should prove effective in keeping your paws adhered to your cacophanous sudorific shoeing, dig?

That or earplugs...


Thursday, June 02, 2005

Two Words: Trucker Bombs

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For details see:

Learn something new everyday; and sometimes it's fucking disgusting.


Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Beaker: Taking Care of Business...Frog-Style

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