It's Oscars time. Somebody wake the Grouch.

Friday, July 01, 2005

One Small Step for the, How you going to say, Small Person

Sometimes a person who is the little kind of man is not getting the respect they deserve. Just because a person not so tall does not mean they are not the deserving one of, how you going to say, fanatic obsession. I think our regular readers will know who I am talking about. Yes, that is correct. The greatest actor in the known cosmological underpinning, none other than....(drumroll, sweaty palms, trembly legs, teeth falling out, developing leg sores)...Warwick Davis! Oh, I know, I know, you will say to me, "Hey there, Mr. Juan Carlos Vega, whatever happen to that one guy, the ostrich egg what is called Danny Devito?" Well, I moved on in life. My Danny Devito movie which I made on Super-8 film stock and which I poured many quarters and dimes of my own food stamp money into the budget to make and which starred an up-and-coming young homeless man I found wandering the mall as Danny Devito, and which also was rated PG-13 for harsh language and one scene where a Jeff Goldbloom takes a spoon in the eye during a script rewrite, well, it didn't become the blockbuster I was betting my life savings on. In fact, it didn't even open in one theater anywhere across the plainful grasslands of America. It didn't help that I only had one copy of the movie, I suppose, but when I drove from one theater to the next and from city to city, I could not even, how you going to say, bribe one single pimply nerd child projector booth operator kid dork to sneak my movie into the projector instead of the second reel of, say, Batman Going to Begin or The Worlds That are at the How You Going To Say War. So I give up on this movie and turned the film canister into a nice planter for my begonias that Mrs. Juan Carlos like to sit and stare at all day without ever speaking or moving except to eat her fried eggs and carne de mono and sigh.

Anyway, so I realize my mistake now was that I focus too much on the ostrich egg person. Instead, now, I plan to make the epic three hour smash movie about the war time experiences of Warwick Davis, who single-handedly face down the Kaiser in a hayfield with only a broken rectal thermometer and three small marbles, and the Kaiser kill him with the gun but he become the leprechaun and rise from the grave to torment the Daikini child, Elora Danen. Man, that is exciting true story for childrens of America. I already have my opening lines.

EXT. -- MOON VALLEY -- DAY

Warwick -- (hoisting forth the Union Jack) That's one small step for a small man and one giant leap for a small mankind from the, how you going to say, English Empire.

(the moon people appear and attack)

Warwick -- Die, moon people! Die with superior British, how you say, technology. (Warwick shoot orange beams from mysterious silvery cube and moon people exploding)

Moon People -- (dying) All we wanted was a bite of your kidney pie! Now we'll never know what superior English cuisine is all about! Ack! Our body organs turning to powdered air! Ack!


Man, already the chills going into my spine and down to my nalgas!

On a rare serious note...


Let's not forget to remember those who are out there keeping us free to act like lunatics. Everybody have a great 4th and be safe out there.

Whoops!!

Boy are we a little red-faced around here, seems that isn't the offending stamp but a caricature of beloved Mexican comedian Cantinflas. (Is it politically correct to say "red-faced"?) Anyway sorry, at least it wasn't another picture of Saddam with his goolies blocked out. Perdónenos a nuestros lectores mexicanos.

What is Vincente Fox smoking?


A new stamp issued by the Mexican government is a hot topic of conversation today. Apparently, the stamp depicts a racial stereotype from a popular Mexican comic which President Vincente Fox enjoyed as a child. We know this is a highly charged topic and has already strained U.S. - Mexican relations but we felt it necessary to educate you our beloved readers on it. At right is a reproduction of the reprehensible stamp. (Warning: this is not for the squeamish or those of sensitive constitutions.)

Replacing Sandra Day O'Connor

Sandra Day O'Connor has announced her intention to retire from the Supreme Court of the United States of America. The retirement will commence upon the nomination and approval of her successor, which means that given the current political climate in Wahsington (described by one commentator as "marginally worse than the Guiliani divorce") and filibusters of judges, she can officially step down in the year 2032.

Currently there are several names that have been mentioned as a replacement. Our favorites from this ever growing list:

  • Bob Dole - So lawyers arguing the case can hear phrases like, "Bob Dole wants to know what you think about the consequences of your position on due process, etc..." and "Easy, big fella" everytime Renquist gavels the court out of session.
  • Pete Rose - We're certain he'll start every session with a head first slide into the chambers. Plus, he'll introduce a new and exciting feature to Court battles: Wagering.
  • Bob Saget - While he won't bring much legal expertise to the Court, he will keep lawyers off guard with his array of lame one-liners and single-entendres. Bonus: The Olsen twins as clerks.
  • Judge Judy - A wealth of experience and know-how. Plus she'll keep both Bader-Ginsburg and Scalia in line during the more intense cases.
  • Mr. T - Just imagine it: "I pity the fool who doesn't understand the 'Takings Clause'". Plus, as Robert Smigel could attest, the man needs work.
  • Oscar the Grouch - A puppet for Supreme Court Justice? He has the right temperament and doesn't smell much worse than the current lineup.
  • Kelly Ripa - If she can handle Regis, she can handle Renquist. Plus, she instantly wins the title of "Perkiest Justice". Doesn't anyone else warm to the phrase "Justice Kelly"?
  • Bob Denver - Provided he wears the "Gilligan" hat and refers to the Chief Justice as "Skipper".
  • Earl Fando - I promise to interpret the Constitution in a way that guarantees me free airfare to any destination in the world. After about a week on the Court, I'll need it.

Thursday, June 30, 2005

Alternate gonad coverage, thanks to Baghdad Bob.


"God will roast their stomachs in hell at the hands of Iraqis."

Speaking of gonads...

Stew,

I intend to post until that pic of Saddam in his skivveys is well down the page. Can we get some sort of bar or perhaps a small image of Martha Stewart's face to cover the most egregious parts of that up?

I suppose the small positive is that the people at MTV's Rock the Vote have the "briefs or boxers" question answered in advance of any Saddam interviews.

Update: I see Stew has responded to my request by covering up "Little Saddam" with, well..."Little Saddam."

It is an improvement though, as this "L.S." is not of the dangly sort.

Affleck and Garner married

Ben Affleck has finally realized his long term dream to marry a celebrity named Jennifer. He and Jennifer Garner, star of TV's Alias, were married in a "secret island ceremony in the Caribbean islands of Turks and Caicos at the Parrot Cay resort" according to the always reliable Yahoo! Insider News. (Motto: We may be unknown peons, but we're INSIDER unknown peons.)

The reason for the secrecy of the ceremony became apparent when CBS announced later in the day that they had signed up the newlyweds for the latest installment of Survivor - Survivor: Bennifer2 on the Turks and Caicos, now in production. The series will start with the wedding ceremony, and continue on until Ben is finally voted off the island by Jennifer, the wedding guests, the local residents, the Afflecks' unborn child, and a toucan named Phil.

CBS is excited about the wedding footage and promises a spectacular opening episode, although producers acknowledge they will have to edit out the part of the wedding where Ben rests his gonads on the back of Ms. Garner-Affleck's neck.

A brief post...



Seems once again that DOUI is on the cutting edge of this crazy buzz-saw we call the world. The Guardian is reporting that Saddam is going to sue The Sun for $1 million or so over the famous pants pics, probably to offset his legal fees for the other thing. Let's just hope he hurries up and wins this lawsuit because he'll need that money for his funeral expenses.

[I was going to link to The Sun website but after going there I thought decency would at this time prevent me from doing that. Too many half-nude Big Brother pictures and photos of women's bums... you'll have to excuse me now I have to get back to some research I just started.]

Update: I thought I would at least add the cover page.

Update of the Update: Earl, I have taken steps to correct it.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Say it ain't so Crazy Frog!

Remember Crazy Frog, the super-popular ringtone star? Now Britain has launched an investigation into allegations that the ribbiting ringtone is used to lure children into buying an expensive subscription service.

Crazy Frog says he has nothing to do with the business end of things.

"One day I'm sittin' on the lilypad, sipping a mint julep, when all of a sudden 2 guys from Interpol wade over and start asking if I have any associations with racketeers or international subscription thugs. 'I got no idea what you guys are talkin' about,' I said. I'm just the talent."

CF contends that he is as innocent as a tadpole.

"The guys at Jamster and VeriSign handle all the finances and contracts. Sure I was surprised at the jump in residuals, but I'm not paid to ask questions. I'm paid to croak like a lunatic."

Jamster had no comments other than to say through a spokesperson that they'd be happy to send some quotes as part of a club package deal that may or may not be a subscription.

Prince Harry: A positive, Royal positive

Those wacky royals and the tabloids are at it again. Now comes the revelation that Harry was given a blood test to determine if he was Prince Charles’ son or the seed of one of Diana’s lovers. Speaking of seedy, it all seems that way to me and the fact that poor Diana has past and can’t defend herself makes it all the lower. Part of the article caught my eye though: Diana, who died in 1997, did not tell Harry why his blood was being taken, The Sun newspaper said in extracts from a book Simone Simmons, an “energy healer” billed as a former close friend and confidante of the princess. I’m not sure what this energy healer had to do with Prince Harry’s blood so I wanted to find out. It was very tough to get but I finally secured an interview with Harry’s energy field last night.

Stew: Energy, or should I call you Mr. Field?

Harry’s Energy Field: Just call me Sparky.

Stew: Very well. Sparky, what can you tell us about yourself?

Sparky: Stew, I’m basically some sort of essence thing that binds us all together, yada, yada, yada. Did you see Star Wars?

Stew: So you are saying you are like the “Force” then?

Sparky: Whatever floats your boat.

Stew: Tell us about Simone Simmons, did she ever attempt to heal you?

Sparky: Never met the chick, I don’t hang around with fruitcakes. Unless, you’re talking about Harry’s entourage, there are a couple of chicks from Soho I’m not so sure about.

Stew: Tell us about life as Harry’s energy field.

Sparky: Well, it ain’t a bad gig, I used to get to sleep in but now that he’s at Sandhurst that has been cut off. Can’t say much else, just your normal energy field stuff… I used to get to pick out his costumes when he went to fancy dress parties.

Stew: But that stopped after the Nazi uniform incident?

Sparky: Hey, he looked good in that uniform. How was I supposed to know it was a Nazi uniform, I’m a flippin’ energy field, what do I know about history.

Stew: How is life at Sandhurst treating you guys?

Sparky: Remember the uniform incident we just talked about. Let’s just say that a few graduates of Sandhurst fought against those same guys. I’ve had to smooth it over with a few energy fields. Maybe that Simone bird could “heal” a few of them, you got her number?

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

The Fresh Manfred

(Only on this blog could a mid-level UN functionary get so much attention...)

Anyway, I noticed from the AFP article Stew quoted that Manfred is a "rapporteur". This, of course, is French for "rapper" and sure enough, Manfred has an album coming out next week, courtesy of Virgin Records (Slogan: "If it's got a hot beat, you can bet it's a Virgin!").

I managed to locate a demo copy, which sounds remarkably like Run-DMC as if done by the current governor of California. An excerpt from the lyrics to one of the tracks is below. It can be rapped to just about anything with a steady 4/4 beat , including washboard and spoons, just like any other rap "song" on the face of the planet Earth.

"I Got to Gitmo, Gitmo"
(excerpt)

by Manfred
(flute solo by Yanni)

I was sitting in my crib down in Vienna-town,
When my man Kofi called, he laid some business down.
He said he had some concerns about the US of A
And the prisoners they held down at Guantanamo Bay.
So I grabbed my Raiders jacket and my fanciest bling,
Climbed on Virgin Atlantic to do my United Nations thing.
I told the world I'd check out the joint lickety-split
And Donald Rumsfeld, "Geben Sie mir keine Lippe nicht"

I got to Gitmo, Gitmo, Gitmo evidence
So I can dis on, dis on, somebody's president.

Jessica Simpson had better watch out. The Oompa-Loompa from Austria is going to be moving up the charts like a Scud missile.

This Manfred guy is everywhere!!


I know he will be starring in Johnny Depp's latest cinematic offering but he continues to make the headlines. Here's some more: VIENNA (AFP) - The UN has learned of "very, very serious" allegations that the United States is secretly detaining terrorism suspects in various locations around the world, notably aboard prison ships, the UN's special rapporteur on terrorism said.
While the accusations were rumours, rapporteur Manfred Nowak said the situation was sufficiently serious to merit an official inquiry.


Wow, rumours and rapporteur in the same sentence ONLY seperated by a comma. Sounds pretty serious to me.

Mommy, why is the sky blue?

This article from the BBC asks the question, "why does the moon appear bigger when it is lower in the sky?". We are also told that NASA cannot explain the reason, which begs the question; where is all of that money going that we send to them? Can't they answer this basic question of the moon's seemingly larger appearance when low in the sky? Is the moon made of an elastic material that can expand and contract? Is God holding a magnifiying glass up to the moon when it is on the horizon? While there are many hypothesis to explain the phenomenon, we asked the question to a randomly selected panel.

  • "It is likely that the illusion is caused by the Ponzo Illusion, which occurs when the mind judges the size of objects in relation to their background. That or moon gnomes." -Ben Smolken - NASA
  • "That is so rude. You're a jerk, you jerky jerk." -Tom Cruise - Scientologist
  • "I think it is a sign from God that the debt of third world countries should be relieved by the G8 nations. That doesn't sound too reaching does it?" -Bono - Activist
  • "I love this country." -Yakov Smirnoff - Branson, MO resident
  • "Poo poo." -Cody Johnson -Age 2
  • "Here's your flippin' moon mate." -Russell Crowe - Age 2 [assuming a karate stance - sort of]
  • "That's one small step for man. One giant leap for mankind." -Neil Armstrong - Astronaut
  • "Oh, it is definitely NOT due to the Illudium Q-36 Explosive Space Modulator, THAT I can assure you." -Marvin the Martian - Earth Destruction League
  • "Sam!!!!" -Darren Stevens - McMahon and Tate Agency

Proving once again that a list of banalities is far more interesting than an article about optical illusions.

Monday, June 27, 2005

Virgin Atlantic renamed to Castro Air

Virgin Express holdings chief Richard Branson announced today that he was renaming Virgin Atlantic Airways to Castro Air in honor of the Cuban dictator and cigar aficionado. Branson was in Cuba celebrating the first flight of Virgin Atlantic's new service from London to Havana, when he made the snap decision. Later, onboard the flight back to London, Branson explained why he made the surprising decision.

"Castro politely asked me to make the change, whilst holding a revolver in the small of my back. He has a very charming, if forceful personality, that Fidel."

Branson renamed the airline "Damned if I'm Going to Cuba Again Airlines" on the journey back, before bowing to shareholder pressure and restoring the original name. There was no confirmation that shareholders persuaded Mr. Branson at the point of arms.

This is the third recent crisis that Mr. Branson has found himself in recently. Virgin Atlantic was recently sued for false advertising about its slogan "We're Virgin Atlantic" and lost. The decision forced the company to change its slogan to "The only thing about our company that's virgin is our name!" Ironically, bookings tripled, including a sharp increase in sales to Japanese businessmen.

The other crisis occurred when Branson attempted to buy the town of Branson, Missouri. He stated that he wanted to own the town so he could change its name to "Richard". In the end, he settled for a minority interest in the Jim Stafford Theater (The esteemed "Spiders and Snakes Balcony"), and outright ownership of the pool table in the men's room at the Shoji Tabuchi Theater, although Shoji still gets to play for free.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Shocked, I tell you...

"'Deep Throat's' Ex-Boss Shocked by Revelation" reads the headline of the ABC News report. For those of you who were afraid this was article about that time Linda Lovelace spent as a stenographer, thankfully we are spared that sordid story, although I'm sure it could probably be found on the CBS site somewhere under "White House News".

However, it is interesting that the former head of the FBI, L. Patrick Gray, states that he believed W. Mark Felt when he said that he was not Woodward and Berstein's Watergate source. That's it. He asked him and Felt denied it and that was that. Case closed.

Excuse me for a moment whilst I incredulously reel about in the small room I'm working in at the moment. All right, reeling complete.

This is the FBI we're talking about, remember? The Federal Bureau of Investigation, the chief federal law-enforcement agency in the United States, the department run by J. Edgar Hoover, the one that had millions of illegal files on every single American deemed more prominent than the Indian Springs, Nevada chief dog-catcher. They could tell you the water boy JFK used to procure cheerleaders in high school, but didn't know if their number two guy was leaking information to the press.

For myself, I have no doubt that , were Hoover still running things at the time, after Felt's denial J. Edgar would have smiled, propped up his stilettoed heels, brushed back the chiffon from his face and tossed a large file on the desk that just happened to contain 10,000 pictures of Felt and Woodward in compromising positions (most of them politically.) That would be just before he opened up on him with a tommy-gun.

Had things changed so much after Hoover's demise? Obviously they still had the naming algorithm down: J. Edgar Hoover, L. Patrick Gray, W. Mark Felt. (What, were they all frustrated Victorian novelists?) Yes, they were all wearing suits and not frocks, but surely Gray could have put together a secret little internal investigation to find out if Felt was burning up packs of menthol cigarettes in Washington car parks in the middle of the night, waiting for Woodward to turn up. You know, the kind of investigation where Felt is whispering to Woodward inbetween drags, when suddenly a large black town car pulls up alongside them and 15 G-Men, wearing sunglasses and Thompson submachine guns, jump out, handcuff the pair of them and throw them in the trunk, then take them back to Gray for a little late night chat under the hot lights.

Not in this case. "Are you Deep Throat?" he asked him. "It is not I," he replied (I'm paraphrasing of course.) If this is the chief investigative technique used within the department, can you imagine how terror investigations would go?

"Are you the one who planted the bomb?" asked the FBI investigator.

"No." replied Ahmad Osama Khomeni bin Qaddafi.

The investigator stood up suddenly, threw a chair across the room, swore loudly, grabbed the light and shone it right into Ahmad's eyes.

"Well, OK then."

Let's hope the blokes at the FBI have worked things out since then.