Thursday, November 30, 2006

A ThanksButNoThanksGiving Exchange of Recent Vintage

Cow-orker: I've got two aunts that make me try their Oyster Stuffing every Thanksgiving.

Me: Eww...does it taste like a Sailor's Fist?


Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Academic Reactions: Part One

"...furthermore, 'Hence the midget' was not, as you put it, 'the Ergo Moment' of Saint Anselm's Ontological Argument, Tip...not by a long shot. See me after class."


Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Nerdly Skills Utilized in a Manner Most Mocking

I had the great (mis)fortune of overhearing two cow-orkers (hyphen intentionally misplaced to emphasize the stature of the conversationalists) discuss there newfound LOVE (lurve?) of the video game sensation DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION today. Some sort of Home Version is available on whatever game console (and, I had to assume, an accompanying Dance Mat that plugs into it) and, as luck/Fate (is there a Norn of Dance?) would have it, they both were in possession of (and obviously quite enthused about) and, as decreed by the Gods of the Faux-Dance (obviously a wing of the Pantheon of my very own Godly Tormentors), had discovered their newly awakened Shared Passion for this Animated Pixel Provided, Cardio-Improving, Ponderous Thump Thumpin' In The Privacy of Your Own Home Dance Fever and decided the Work Place was as Good a Place as Any to get into a Serious Discussion of their Respective Moves.

(Where have you gone, Danny Terrio? Our Dance Crazed Nation turn their Shaking Hindquarters towards you. Woo Woo Woo)

After enduring what seemed like an All-Night Dance-a-thon Length Dialogue of Move-Busting I decided it was Time to Trip Up their Light Fantastic Jawing with a Good Ol' Dose of TIP-Style Lying...anything to break up the droning of their self-professed Hoofing abilities.

It went something like this:

Me: You two like the Dance Dance Revoultion, eh?

Cow-orker One: Absolutely!

Cow-order Two: It's really fun!

Me: Yeah, I recently discovered the joys of it myself. In fact, over the last month or two I discovered I have a real knack at choreography and devised my very own dances!

Cow-orker One: Really?

Cow-orker Two: What are they?

Me (heh): Well, there's one I call the Jawa Sandcrawler and the other one I call the House Atriedes Sandworm Boogie.

Cow-orkers in Unison: ...

Me: The first one requires a loose brown robe, a couple of glow sticks stuck to your face, and gibberish muttering whilst sorta...scuttling about like a midget; the second one comes off as someone impersonating a guy surfing atop a giant earthworm! People have really taken notice of 'em. Do you want to see them?

Cow-orker One: UHM...I've got a conference in a few minutes and...

Cow-order Two: I need to use the bathroom so...

Me: Maybe later?

Cow-orkers in Unison: Okay.

As they leave I shout after them:

Me: Maybe we can come up with a dance together? I've got an idea for one I want to call PARIAH! OUTCAST! UNCLEAN! Doing the Thomas Covenant Two-Step!


Monday, November 20, 2006

Happy TIPsplooking Week, kids (thanks to Kyle!)

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Saturday, November 18, 2006

An Exchange Between Saint Hyphen and TIP

St. H: Bats always exit out of caves to the left.
T: As did Snagglepuss/Tooth

St. H: Gorillas always wake up around 6:00.
T: Quit watching me sleep, Ed Asner/Ass-Sneer!

St. H: you have more bones in your butt then you do your head.
T: Shake that Medulla-Maker for me!

St. H: chimpmonks can't fart.
T: And Racoons can't chew 'baccy. "Down by the River" by Neil Young comes appropriate.

St. H: Dick Cheney has no protons in his entire body.
T: And Lynn Cheney NEVER wrote a Lesbo Thriller called SISTERS.

St. H: Why is it always mother nature? I say mother nature needs to pick up the slack cause we aint gett'in any clean I say its time for father nature to take over and build a giant carpet with which we can sweep everything under.
T: Her oleo is mag-nuh-fee-kway...but Father Time's Meatball Submarine Sammich comes armed with Pickle Spear Torpedos and Olive Depth Charges.

St. H: ipods can really only hold 5 songs the rest is just mind control and the hits from top guns soundtrack.
T: "That's right, Inquisitive One...this Zip-Lock Baggie contains the shorn beard of He-That-Is-Loggins...long may his chinless Silhouette Haunt your Waking Hours."

St. H: The sloth is the only animal to live his entire live vicarously through another mans junk
T: European or Sea-Faring Sloths?

St. H: Bonus sloth interesting fun fact
T: Don't fill up on bread!

St. H: The sloth is the only animal other then man to make gravy that is above and beyond the call of duty.
T: One man's ladle is another man's Scrotal Adjustor.

St. H: The new century will have more mentions of whoopie then any other century. farting and sexual wise (non goldberg)
T: Ted Dansen's Al Jolson Impersonation was ruined by the very Tears that Streaked his Uncle Ben's Face Makeup (just add water and he makes his own sauce).

St. H: Dust off does not work down there. She will not be happy about it.
T: I have friends that 'enjoy' putting Gold Bond on their Junk (non-wessel).

St. H: Railroad crossing signs were orignally signs for the village idiot.
T: The Transiental League of HoBohemia is in agreement over this matter and just acquired a handout of sufficient enough size to guarantee a lifting of the Night Train Embargo.

St. H: boxes are sometimes made of cream cheese
T: Nice Schmear.

St. H: name tags use to contain more vowels
T: Long live the Dagos!

St. H: certain items should not be combined with the term slathered.
T: Like Goat Pants and Tarmac Bacon.

St. H: Colonel Sanders was a sloth.
T: That will soon be able to be spotted from orbit.


Tuesday, November 14, 2006

The Ghost of Victor French Haunts us All

Conversation that just happened here at work

Cow-orker: How are you doing?

Me: Tired. The english bulldog woke me up this morning; he was trying to eat my ear off.

C-o: Heh. Hopefully you didn't dream it was someone else doing it. Heh.

Me: Hmm. That would explain the appearance of Mr. Edwards from LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE...

C-o: (confused...leaves)


Wednesday, November 08, 2006

The Late William Conrad on Delicious Weaponry

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"I know what you're *pant* thinking. "Did he eat six shots or only five?" Well, to tell you the truth, in all *urp* this esurience I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most *burf* Ambrosial Chocolate Handgun in the world, and would sate a smaller *flurgh* human's appetite right off, you've got to ask your *hlurb* digestive gibbosity a question: Do I feel peckish? Well, do ya, Glutton?"