Friday, December 30, 2005

The next epidemic?

APA: Anxious Pants Asphyxia

Earliests signs are manifest in the young, caught up in the latest Ad Blitz from the likes of Rustler Brand Jeans (especially now in light of the media storm caused by the film BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN and typical cross promotions); the consequence of which will be a ceaseless demand for said denim jeans until acquisition is complete. Unfortunately, the enthusiasm for these pants (and their stylish snugness through the ass, crotch, and lower extremities) coupled with the sorry state of fitness in today's youth (raging obesity in minors) will, invariably, lead to a rise to a before unknown syndrome; the aforementioned Anxious Pants Asphyxia. The corpulent young of America and their insatiable appetite for all-things fashionable are ill-suited (ill-fit?) for dungarees of this sort; they are just too damn tight for the trundling tud-masses. Blood flow will be cinched off, rot will settle in sub-waist, and, hence, this lower body form of asphyxia (normally identified with areas much further north of the belt-line). In cases of full on-set of APA parents only recourse will be a shopping spree at their area wheelcar lot and, obviously, some other form of clothing to drape over their youngster's useless pegs (presumably in the kilt or mumuu family).


Wednesday, December 28, 2005

The Family Cover-Up

The Bedford family had themselves a bit of a problem; their youngest, Nick O' Lass (blame the 'artsy-fartsy' spelling on the accidental post-birth delirium mutually suffered by both parents which, according to the doctors and an errant orderly, was quite possibly the result of an ill-placed and open jug of ether with a Use By Date of 1973) was a very bright (not so much a-gleamy as he was least in comparison with most of his inane and babbling cousin horde...the family's gene pool hadn't had its filter replaced in years which went a long way to explaining the 'pond scum' blanketing both Aunt Eureka and Uncle Samson) and inquistive lad and had taken to wondering aloud why it was that Grandfather Urgent (who was also a victim of a poor naming ritual) had a steamed meat aroma ever-present about his person; a fragrant cloud of eww akin to The Peanuts' Pig Pen's dust cloud only far-more-off-putting (yet very attractive to the area insectoid community, the Stray Dog packs, and the occasional pro-beef-fancier Avon Lady). Mom and Dad insisted that this was a figment of his nostrils imagination and to say nothing more of Urgent's alleged odor. Did I also mention that Nick O' Lass was also a persistant lil' whippersnapper a la Encyclopedia Brown? His parents' explanation fell on deaf ears and the questioning continued; at birthday parties, Family Reunions, the Bedford Family's Annual Bay of Pigs Backyard Swine Roast, and so on. "Why Oh Why," he would scream to the Heavens above and the Relations within Earshot, "does Gramps Urgent smell of steamed meat? There HAS to be a reasonable explanation! Is it his diet? A skin condition? Does he hit the sauna with a friendly butcher? WHY?!? Somebody tell me NOW!!!" After a hastily arranged meeting between the heads of the Bedford Family, it was eventually agreed upon that Nick O' Lass should be told the truth (with Cousin Ore-Ida abstaining from the vote on the grounds that he was still torqued off about being named after a company that produces frozen French Fries). And so it was recently that Nick O' Lass, he of the sharp olfactory senses and the Never Say Die attitude learned the truth about the Shame of the Bedfords and the Reek that was Grandpa Urgent's stink fog...

Grandpa Urgent had spent every morning since his retirement commenced from the dirigible works groping the third shift White Castle employees as they got off their shifts.

Sad but true.

But now little Nick O' Lass knew the truth.

And, armed with this knowledge, his shame now knew no end.


Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Where ya been, T?

iPod...taking up all free-time...can't break free from it's's nefarious plan to waste all of my days off...urge to put every last recording I own on it...all 2000 plus recordings...I'm any fine Blue Oyster Cult recording...more Cowbell...what is iPod-worthy? What isn't? Zappa next to Lindsy Buckingham next to Edwyn Collins next to Gavin Friday abutting Adrian Belew atop Bootsy Collins astride the Golden pairings...couplings...bedfellows...Young Fresh Fellows...Soft Boys...Oingo Boingo...Neil Young...King ears...MY TIME!!!

(this melo-dramatic moment was brought to you by the fine makers of Apple products and their personal vendetta against your's truly)

Friday, December 23, 2005

Tales from the Happy Gnome: Part One
The Greasy Italian Tank turns Deep Fried

(formerly Chang O'Hara's; which at one time was Saint Paul's ONLY Irish/Pan-Asian bar...take from that what you will)

In the course of my life, I've been told by strangers, friends, and family that I look like a wide variety of different celebrities (human or animated) and/or wildlife. A sampling follows:

Paul McCartney
Andy Garcia
Frank and Dweezil Zappa
Al Pacino
Fred Flintstone
Sly Stallone
Any number of simians (monkey, orangutan, gorilla)

And so on.

None of which I've ever thought were accurate...but that may have now changed for good.

Last night, while some friends and I gathered for a pre-Christmas/Christmas gift exchange soaked in booze, I encountered a gentleman who had his very own and extremely unique take on, what he thought (unsolicited, I might add), WHO/WHAT I look like.

He engaged our table of folk by first pointing out that my friend, Paul, looks EXACTLY like Emilio Estevez (this is not a new observation...Paul's been dealing with this for years and lamenting that he wasn't instead compared to Martin or Charlie Sheen...Emilio's father and brother respectively...and, evidently (to Paul anyway) the Better looking of the three). With nods all around (again...not news really) he turned to me.

"Do you know who you look like?"

"I've heard all sorts of folk over the years. Hit me."

"You won't be offended?"

"I don't get offended."

"Do you watch the Cartoon Network?"

"Not in a long time; but I'm familiar with their programming."

"It's a guy from one of the Adult Swim shows, I think."

"Get on with it."

"You sure you won't be offended?"

"Buddy, you've already offended us when you joined us, uninvited, and told my friend here that he looks like an actor who's career highlight was Repo Man (a film I love, by the way)."

"Okay. You look like that French Fry guy."

"Er. The McDonald's Fry Guys?"

"No. From Aqua Teen Hunger Force."


"What's his name?"


"THAT'S IT!!!"

So, in case you aren't familiar with Frylock, here he is:

And, apparently, that's Now who I look like.

Cartoon pack of french fries with a 'stache.

Just call me Tater TIP.


Thursday, December 22, 2005

Unlikely Exclamations: Part One

"By the gastro-correctional fluid of Pepto!!!"


Wednesday, December 21, 2005

From the Christmas Cured Meat File

Talking to a fellow cow-orker today about my having not begun ANY of my Christmas shopping, the following exchange took place...and left me speechless:

Gal at Work (GAW): I know just the thing you could get.

Me: Oh?

GAW: Beef Jerky. There's a place near Clearwater that has the best jerky ever. (Fellow who shall remain nameless) will totally vouch for it.

Me: He'll vouch for the jerky?

GAW: Yes. That'd be a great gift that you could get people.

Me: ...


Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Sometimes I don't even have to make up shit that sounds like shit I made up

Stalin sought human-ape super warrior
EDINBURGH, Scotland, Dec. 20 (UPI) -- Recently uncovered secret documents in Russia reveal that Soviet dictator Josef Stalin wanted to develop a super army by cross-breeding humans and apes.

Documents form the 1920s show scientist Ilya Ivanov was ordered to research the development of such a super-warrior and fodder for the Soviet workforce, The Scotsman newspaper reported Tuesday.

Stalin, the account says, told Ivanov, "I want a new invincible human being, insensitive to pain, resistant and indifferent about the quality of food they eat." Soviet social engineering sought to make a "living war machine," the newspaper said.

The documents claim Ivanov's attempts to use monkey sperm in humans failed, the Scotsman said. Ivanov was exiled to Kazakhstan in 1931 and died a year later.

© Copyright 2005 United Press International, Inc. All Rights Reserved

Super Man Ape link here


Sunday, December 18, 2005

Panhandling goes Top Shelf

This evening (after seeing a showing of the film SYRIANA) I was drawn into the following exchange with a panhandler:

Man: Good evening, sir. Can I ask you a question?

Me (sigh): No.

Man: Oh, don't be that's almost the holidays.

Me (sigh squared): Well, sad to say, I don't recognize your holidays; I'm Canadian. Things are different up north.

Man (startled by this before unbeknownst to him 'info' and now derailed ever so slightly from his 'pitch'): Uh...uh...uh..well...are...are Canadians generous?

Me (heh): I can't speak for them all...but I'm not.

Man: That's cool. That's cool. See...

Me (here we go)

Man (continued): I just need Ten Dollars for some soup.

Me (that's one bold fucking bastard, eh?): Ten Dollars? For soup? Right.

Man: It's's for me and my kids.

Me: Campbell's Cream of Whiskey?

Man: ain't like that. The Ten Dollars really would be for soup.

Me (heh): If that's the case, let me come with you to buy it. In fact, if the soup is Ten Bucks...shit's gotta be good and, damn, I want to try some.

Man (mulls): Fuck you, Canada.

Exit stage left (with only the hint of wobbles)


Thursday, December 15, 2005

Mything from Myth: Part One
Asgardian STDs


"Forsooth!!! Lightning hath leapt from mine sub-tunic Midgard Serpent and seared the very helm of Baldar!!! My apologies, fair Rainbow Bridge Sentry; twas Loki's trickster ways that have left my fleshy Mjolnir in said state!"

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Fear the Rog!!!

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Tuesday, December 13, 2005

TIP's Quotes of the Day (taken out of context)

Ham Sasquatch is a character we need to see more of.

Bartender, my ladyfriend here will have a Heavenly Hillbilly neat (hold the goober peas) and I'll'll have the Zappa on the Toilet straight up with a Dong Work For Yuda chaser.

You've not been loitering at the deli as often lately, eh?

And is neck-deep in the fermented Bantha Squeezings again.

There can never be too much oversized monkey

Klondike Bar as Colonic?

Are they made of scalps?

Howabout a Whore Golem constructed out of cocaine?


Jean Michel Jarre with a dogsled on an ice floe.

I went to school with a guy named Hugh Pants...strange fellow. Used to chew the rivets out of his Levi's.


Monday, December 12, 2005

Ogle the Splendor of Shaq's Custom-Made Pants!

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Thursday, December 08, 2005

Is there a Cryptologist in the house?

An excerpt from an actual e-mail that went around to everyone today:

Just so you all know, you have done a fabulous job cutting and serving cake, but I thought I would ask all of (name of college removed to protect the cake-loving employees)this time for help and see what response I get. I know cutting cake can be quite rewarding (wink, wink) but sometimes we all need a little break. If you would still like to cut cake, I would be grateful to have you!

I swear to you this reads like it's in some kinda code, doesn't it? What is she REALLY getting at? Does CAKE mean something else? CAKE can't mean CAKE...not with the parenthetical WINK WINK.

I, for one, will not get into some weird work-wide cake-used-as-a-euphemism orgy scene.



Wednesday, December 07, 2005

One Cow-Orkers attempt to Impress/Woo/Court/Potentially Pantally Explore another Cow-orker

"I was a semi-professional electronic toy car racer..."

Overheard in the Campus Employee Breakroom, 12/7/2005.



Tuesday, December 06, 2005


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Fellers always inquirin' 'bout what muh swee-swee-lovin' sitchee-a-tion is like here on ol' Galactica and I always 'spond with a lil' knowledge I gleaned over many decades of layin' with the lay-dees:

I miss dates as much as that damn monkey from RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK...ya catch me sniff?


Monday, December 05, 2005

The Frisky Neighborplush Spider-Man Mounts Up

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