Maybe I'm Reading More into This than I should

Ill at Ease by the Sudden and Unexplained Appearance of an Inflatable Spider-Man

Google Search Confession

For reasons best left unexplained, today I Google Image Searched using the phrase Star Wars Sombrero and was perplexed to find...well...give it a shot.


I'll wait.



























Back?

Freakin' Hippo figurines done up as Star Wars characters.

...the Hell?!?

T
(oh, and there was a pic of a Jar Jar head atop a Sombrero...if that counts)

'Dirty' Superhero Anagram Game

Taking Superheroes, Supervillians, Comic Creator names and turnin' 'em filthy:

Superman: Anus Perm

Captain Marvel: Vatican Palmer

Incredible Hulk: Held Nubile Rick

Oliver Queen (Green Arrow's alias): Equine Lover

Watchmen: Wench Mat

Amazing Spider-Man: Penis razing Madam

Daredevil: Viral Deed

Doctor Strange: Retro Scatdong

Brian Michael Bendis (Comic Creator): I lashed Rabbinic Men

The Human Torch: Ho Hut Merchant

Solomun Grundy: Surly Mono Dong

The Dynamic Duo: Cad Mined Youth

Devil Dinosaur: Lads void urine

Out of the Mouths of Not-Quite-Babes...

The juiceboxes--pierced as they were by miniature straws ensuring the free-flow of their sugary fluidic contents-- provided hours of mildly nutritious and, oddly enough, thought-provoking slaking to the lipless horde of Ms. Slipnut's 3rd Hour English Class; her thoughts on the matter--considering each student's continued trouble with the 'pesky' schwa and, hence, their inability to move forward in their Spellers--was best to keep their maws occupied. An unexpected consequence to the daily collective cacophonous slurping--a sound akin to that of a man trying to pass a sheared and greased boar through a length of industrial-sized PVC tubing using only his guile, a prayer, and the oversized boot upon his right foot--brought smiles to all faculty and administrative staff that came within earshot of this post-modern 'symphony.' On a musically-related note, it even inspired the day-time custodian--whose Muse was suddenly roused from a decade's long booze and head injury-fueled 'coma'--to compose his self-proclaimed Masterpiece, "Kids Sans Lips Shant Suckle nor Sip" for three jugs, an oboe, and Fat Albert-inspired Radiator-as-Squeezebox.

T

Marketing Idea for Marvel Comics

A line of meat products...possibly of the Jerky Family...called Thanos' Taint

A New Catchphrase that Celebrates my Lazy Eye

"There's only One I in TIP."

Many thanks to Your Pal, Jim for its creation.

T

Got my tickets for the Chicago Show!!!

Fucking Sweet!

T

To Counter the Devil on My Shoulder and His Fell Advice

Confessions of a Closet Satyr

"...the lifestyle really came together when, after a Halloween Party, I discovered the lower half of a Gorilla Suit ditched in my shower. After a short period of being perturbed (What was the circumstances behind their being doffed there? I mean, I don't recall anyone Simianly-Garbed--at least above the waistband--leaving without their hairy pants on) I recalled my childhood fascination with the followers of Pan and Dionysus and decided not to look a Gift Horse (Gift Goat?) in the Maw, y'know? Okay, sure, it's a bit of a leap betwixt Gorillas and Goat-Boys (especially in the extremitites department), but with a lil' tailoring (I knew that Home Ec. course would pay off someday) I totally converted the Monkey-esque feet attached to the Gorilla Pants into Cloven-looking tootsies. I've got to admit, the first time I tried 'em on (shirtless, naturally, to get the right Satyrian Look), I was pretty damn impressed with how they turned out. I added some faux-horns to my forehead (moistened gumdrops affixed with a lil' saliva) and an appropriate looking Wine Goblet and--VOILA--I'm a Satyr.

The real problem that arose shortly thereafter was that I had no where to go and flaunt my new persona (well, at least until next year's Halloween Party) and I was becoming more and more obsessed with the outfit. Whenever I wore them I felt like this...THIS was the Real Me. Everyday I'd get home from work, immediately change into them, and spend the rest of the evening (and the entirety of my weekends) clip-clopping around my rambler as Mister Satyr.

The interior of my home I redid with Woodland-themed wallpaper so to have the proper environment for my Satyrly Escapades; which, to be honest, are just my regular day-to-day activities...watching television, dining, and, especially, grooving out to my Billy Joel records (Glass Houses really touches me in a special Grecian Way whilst in my goat-leggings).

I'd try to broach the subject of Satyrs when not at home but, more times than not, people thought I was referencing the Marquis de Sade (for some damn reason, curse their miseducation and faulty hearing) and, even though some might think it's Odd that I garner so much pleasure from dressing up as a Mythological Figure, I've never been a fan of Sadism (although, admittedly, I was once aroused after being pelted with an apple...although I wish now, in hindsight, that it had been a grape...but that's another story for another time...heh...my own lil' Myth) and I would change the subject to something else entirely.

Which is why I've yet to come out of the closet about my Satyrism..."

T

3 Years Ago...yesterday

This version of TIPTONE PRESENTS reared it's ugly rear.

To celebrate, here's a Slighty Clad Man doing a Dance with Linked Sausages

An Out-of-Context Quote to Delight the Sick Bastards Out There

"I'm glad you like your Squeak Uterus."

A certain someone to her sister in response to the latter's glee at receiving a hand knit replica of a piece of a female's reproductive system as crafted by the former.

T

Some Phrases I may or may not have Used in the Last 8 years


Don't you DARE poncho my dog!!!

Why don't you make yourself comfortable and I'll go put a Rick Astley record on the ol' Victorla....y'know...to...Heh...set the mood...oh...you'd prefer Mott the Hoople?

Salvador Dali, post-humously, donated lengths of his 'stache to Third World children that had long pined for their very own hair-lips which, up to that point, they were unable to grow due to inadequate diets.

Look, Old Country Buffet is a bad idea for many reasons...but mainly it's the wanton abuse of the all-you-can-ladle gravy that puts me off my country-fried steak, 'kay? That and the unannounced yet wholly expected post-gorging Toot Symphonies that are spontaneously performed sans anyone even remotely resembling a Conductor are entertaining to only those that have tin ears and iron stomachs.

No, I can't get your mail for you while your out of town at a Baggage Handlers Convention, Darrel...and it has nothing to do with the fact that you're wearing neither pants nor a shirt and yelling your inquiry from across the street at 2 in the morning.


T

"Want some Super Soldier Serum straight from the Cap Tap?"














T

An Installment of TIP's Education Corner

The word

Parentheticals

is

NOT

pronounced

Parent He Tickles


T

Ten Things/Thoughts off the Top of me Tete

Threatening a precocious youth with "I'll line your damn britches with pork loins if you don't let your sister out of the humidor" probably isn't going to carry a lot of weight...especially if the kid prefers the other White Meat.

What would you really do if I sang out of tune? Buy me lessons with a vocal coach and/or remove the batteries from my Mr. Microphone?

Besides HARRY AND THE HENDERSONS and LITTLE BIG FOOT I and II what other feature films starred Sasquatches?

'Bar Sinister' used to be a way to refer to a child born to unwed parents; hence, Underdog's arch-nemesis is actually Simon Bastard.

Meat Waffle...Meat Waffle...Meat Waffle.

Levi-Strauss gave the World Levi's Jeans but Hans Wrangler, Jorge Rustler, and Chief Toughskins are long forgotten in the Pants Hall of Fame.

Contrary to popular belief, Billy Squier's tune, The Stroke, is actually a song he wrote about what he thought his pet feline was thinking one afternoon (a truth he only discussed privately amongst friends and roadies).

Mister Fitzgerald...step away from the afghan...that is no way to treat a craft project.

Look, I'm not French, okay? I cannot tell you how to say, "the swine fish is a figment of your imagination."

And, keeping things International, an Italian Ouija Board is NOT called a Luigi Board.

T

Meanwhile, at an Area Charhouse

Or the last way you would expect to hear someone answer the question:

How would you like your steak prepared?

"Make it like Al Jolson."


Whoa.

Nice one there, old dude.

T

Warning

If someone informs you that their favorite skin cream is:


The Day-Glo Dago from Giacomo Canino's Mediterranean Seamen line


there's a STRONG possibility that...heh...I'm lying to you.

Capisci?

T

A Music-related Metaphor Goes Uh-Rye...er...Awry

No, really, man...this whole situation with Alphonse and the loaf of bread is...is like what the song Sneakin' Sally through the Alley by Robert Palmer was all about, you know what I mean? Well, sure the song is about adultery and all...er...and, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't THINK a person can conduct an Affaire de Coeur with rye or pumpernickel (though--heh--'schwarzbrot' does sound kinda dirty, eh? Figures with them Germans)...er...and it's not like THAT'S what was going on anyway...at least according to the head baker and the flour sifting guy...neither of whom are named Sally and, considering Al's girth, he ain't got no Sneakin' in him......and...and Palmer's been dead for years and, contrary to popular culture, Zombies don't REALLY exist...so no post-Dirt-Nap stroll for the late singer...but...uhm...well...I mean...dammit...the Bread Didn't Butter itself, OK?!?

T

Dreamwurst

Her: Hon, wake up...you're talking in your sleep again.

Him: Hunh...wazzat?

Her: You were talking in your sleep again.

Him: Hmm...what was I saying?

Her: Er...did you ever work at a deli or a butcher's shop?

Him: Uhm...no.

Her: Well, that's weird.

Him: What'd I say?

Her: Did you vote for Jimmy Carter?

Him: Yeah.

Her: Hmm.

Him: What the hell does the Carter Administration and whether or not I worked at a deli or butcher's shop have to do with what I was saying in my sleep?!?

Her: You don't have to yell at me...it's your damn dreams.

Him: What did I say?

Her: I don't want to talk about it now. Go back to sleep, Sausage Boy.

Him: WHAT?!?

Her: ...

Him: Oh, come on! You woke me up! Was it...was it freaky?

Her: That's an understatement if I've ever heard one.

Him: Come on! I don't remember what I was dreaming about.

Her: You were working on a marketing plan for a new flavor of sausage.

Him: WHAT?!?

Her: Amy Carter Flavored Sausages.

Him: ...

Her: Right. Exactly. I'm going to go sleep on the couch, Hannibal Linker.

Him: ...

T

Home Remedies from (Name Stricken to Protect their Identity)

"I don't do pills...I drink shower water."

Ol so-and-so, March 31st, 2006

This statement goes a long way to explaining why *beep* gets sick all the time.

T

Bring me the Head of Jerry Garcia

T