sheer awesomeness Tunesday Uncategorized

Tunesday: Jill Sobule Wants “Our America Back”

Jill Sobule always brings the goods.  She’s funny, she’s cute, and she’s crazy cool.  She says a bad word in this song, too–fair warning.  She does THE BEST concerts, too.


Comedians Endorse “Any And All” Republicans For Pres.

republicanIn direct opposition to stereotypes of the “Liberal Hollywood Elite” voting en masse for Democratic candidates, members of several comedy and theater unions, including The National Association of Comedians and the powerful Screen Actors Guild have take the unusual position of endorsing every 2015 Republican candidate for the US Presidency

“It takes a lot of money to garner the influence of a political campaign,” comedy spokesperson Al Kikurass explained, following self-styled tycoon and ceaseless self-promoter Donald Trump’s announcement that he,  too, will join an already crowded field of candidates. “We’re hoping to take a collective approach by embracing the entire field so no matter who wins, we win with them.”

In a hastily organized press conference held at the struggling Harrah’s Casino in Atlantic City, MD, Kikurass explained the comedic strategy.  “Hillary is practically a sure thing;  but she’s not funny. Not one bit. She’d be good in the sense that she isn’t likely to repeal the Affordable Care Act, nor turn Saturday, the most important night of the week for comedians, into a second, solemn day of Christian Worship.  Unfortunately, she’d do nothing to otherwise sustain our industry. If we’re lucky, maybe she falls down, like Gerald Ford, or maybe her husband has another affair, but there’s no guarantee. Bill Clinton isn’t getting any younger, and he’s had heart trouble.

“The Republican field, on the other hand, boasts another Bush brother as its most viable candidate–the one with the Cuban wife and the coke-addled daughter.” Kikurass explained.  “Beyond Bush, you’ve got Rubio, Cruz, Huckabee, and that’s not to mention the wildly popular (with comedians) Rick “Man On Dog” Santorum.  Santorum’s entry into the race was considered by many to be the most important moment in a comedic community that was rocked last year by Michelle Bachman.

“Losing Bachman was a blow,” Kikurass admitted. “Dress up in heels and a Lane Bryant suit, affect a Minne-SO-tah accent, go on stage, and mumble anything nonsensical–the crazier you sound, the more realistic the impression, and the louder the laughs.”

cpac-clown-car-gop-620x288“This is a gold mine,” Kikurass continued, barely holding back a smile. “Any single Republican is bound to mutter some deeply offensive, half-witted bomb–like calling LeBron James a “good negro boy” or proclaiming that if female rape victims tap their heels together, squint really hard, and say Bill O’Reilly’s name backwards three times they won’t get pregnant.  Having a dozen of these guys–not to mention Carly Fiorino, who thinks the drought in the west is a liberal plot— shouting to be heard over each other will be an unprecedented font of comedic opportunity.”

Sources report that, following Santorum’s announcement a few weeks ago,  jubilant Saturday Night Live writers, realizing they won’t need to put any effort into opening monologues or the weekend update for at least the next eighteen months, had desolved so far into a dizzyingly libertine orgy of ivy league group sex revelry, bathing in a jacuzzi filled with warm, ironically and symbolically mediocre Iron City Beer shipped in from Santorum’s former hometown of Pittsburgh, PA.

602603_412811998786715_32205572_nTrump’s announcement, a spit-spraying tirade of condemnation, vitriol, and virtually incomprehensible mutterings, drew hundreds of comedians to Atlantic City, where the billionaire real estate mogul, television character, and hissyfit birther has been such a strong and sometimes divisive figure, where they smashed their way into abandoned casinos, dragging velour sofas and circular beds into the street as fuel for exultant bonfires around which celebrants danced long into the morning.

“Our goal is to organize support that works towards keeping all of these bumpkins, ignorant sociopaths, and proudly cynical opportunists in the race as long as possible.  With this particular slate of candidates, the opportunity exists to sustain comedy well into the winning candidates second tier.” Kikurass had explained.  “We’re even taking the unprecedented step of dispatching a diplomatic outreach team, led by Kathy Griffin, that Hot Pocket guy, and Boomhower from King of The Hill to former front runner Chris Christie and aspiring angry fascist and Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker.”


Funny and/or Strange Photo I Like Short/Micro/Flash Fiction

Sarah In The Morning

20731_1351607707108_4432096_nIt was a cold, October morning at the Super 8 just off exit 337 and things were about to go, well, the way things tend to go.

The detritus of a night gone wonderfully wrong lay about us: A crumpled bag of NASCAR-themed barb-e-cue Fritos, a spent bottle of Yukon Jack, a crumpled patriot-blue camisole and a pair of Jimmy Chou pumps that cost more than my vintage Impala–one under the chair in the corner, the other dangling from the lampshade beside the TV.

I lay on the bed, pulling deep off a wrinkled Gauloise, absently tracing my hands over the swollen bite marks on my thighs and abdomen,  when the bathroom door clicked and swung halfway open, releasing a cloud of steam.  I grinned, rolled off the bed, stepped on a beer cap and almost knocked over an open, half-eaten styrofoam take- home box of ribs and gravy-soaked fries from Applebees, limping to the door to watch as she did her lips, the heavy coat of eyeliner.  Her bright red dress hung from a hanger on the towel rack–an open bottle of Smirnoff on the sink, hair of the dog.

She looked so beautiful, in the steam; I raised my phone to snap a picture.  She tried to block me, but too late.  There were enough pictures of her in the word, she’d said once before. Modest, to a fault.

“You can’t.” She shook her head. “I can’t. Not the picture. Not us. Never again.”

“You said that the last time.”

“There’s too much at stake.  I’m not getting any younger, and the money won’t always be like it is now,” she sighed.  “My family. America. They need me more than you do.”

“Leave it all.”

“It’s too late. I’ve already called them.”

I looked up towards the door even as the shape of a large, black vehicle skidded to a stop beyond the worn, gauzy draperies.  A second later, the door burst open and two large, glowering men burst through, the first with a blackjack in his gloved hands.

I whipped around for one last look. Her moist eyes were sad, but not sorry: determined, resolute.

So that’s how it was.

“You broke my heart,” I said, thumbing the SEND button on my phone.

“You betcha,” she smiled.  The blackjack swung down on the back of my neck, stars exploding in my skull, like the fourth of July, like the stars I’d touched in her aching, desperate embrace.


Bad Books #3

Because I’m a devilish sod, I’ve collected A LOT of naughty books cover illustrations which I’ll start sharing daily a minute before midnight, “wordpress time.” (which isn’t the time where I live or, I suspect, anywhere but on the wordpress servers, but who cares.

Funny and/or Strange Uncategorized

Red Lobster Celebrates Return Of Annual All-You-Can-Eat Krill Fest


Commentary Funny and/or Strange Photo I Like

Star Wars Day: May The Fourth Be With You

I’m a Trek guy myself, but I just found out about the “Star Wars Day” thing and I think it’s a real hoot.  Star Wars has always been a problem for me–from plot points and set pieces clearly calculated to sell merchandise, to the whiniest hero in the history of movies, I liked the stories well enough but it never moved me, or moved my thoughts to deeper things.

Of course, things worked out for Luke better than they did for poor old Uncle Owen,  although we have to look to supplementary materials to find out why:

And all along I thought that Australian bastard, Boba Fett, killed Owen & Aunt Whatshername.  Damn.

Despite all the silliness, I’m kind of stoked about the new Star Wars movie–Abrahms has proven he has the chops and the appropriate reverence to revive an old series that has gone all to hell, and he’s no slouch with the marketing, either.  I mean, did you see the cast photo released from the first read-through this week?  Iconic is an understatement in this context–that photo has the look of something downright historical.

Hey, what’s Indiana Jones doing in this movie? Is it a crossover? And where the hell is Uhuru?



Commentary Funny and/or Strange

Bonnie and Clyde….


Okay, I’m in.