Earl Checks In

Well the vacation is going swimmingly, apart from all the walking and &*%$# Chelsea beating DC United and disappointing me and my several dozen fellow Arsenal fans that were in the stadium. In fact, I seemed to be in the Arsenal section of Fed Ex Field as there were 4 of us all within two rows of one of the small scoreboard sections. I however, was probably the only one loudly proclaiming that Chelsea were a bunch of wankers and singing "One-nil to the Arsenal everytime Freddy Adu touched the ball in the second half. Fed Ex Field was quite nice, except for all the Redskins paraphenalia (Full disclosure - Earl is a Cowboys fan.)

Chelsea were quite good though for an exhibition and I have to admit that Damein Duff's first-half goal on the volley was first class and worth the price of admission. The angle was ridiculously shallow and Rimando, the United goalkeeper was well placed and still had no chance. It happened right in front of us, although afterwards our view of the field was obscured by the group of West Indies football fans in front of us. These lively blokes chattered loudly the whole game and although they seemed nice, if loud, they were mostly Chelsea supporters. The one DC United supporter revealed his depth of knowledge of football when he loudly contended that Shaun Wright-Phillps, just purchased by Chelsea from Manchester City for over 34 million pounds, would never make it at DC United. I hadn't the heart to tell him that should Shaun Wright-Phillips ever deign to play for DC or any MLS team, that he would instantly become that team's best player (with the possible exception of LA Galaxy, who have the very talented Landon Donovan.)

We have seen at least four museums. I say at least because we went to the National Archives to see the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution and I'm not sure whether it is technically a museum. So four and a half. The documents were even more faded than I remember and I could have sworn that one of the signatories to the Declaration was "Pat Morita", but that can't be right.

We saw the museum of National History which included a 3-D IMAX film about how ancient dinosaur eggs are powerful hallucinagenics (It's a long story, but the girl in the film about T-Rex's did hallucinate after gas shot out of a dinosaur egg - that was shortly before she was snapped in half by a Tyrannosaur.) That did explain why the cinema was half-filled with hippies.

The gems were magnificent. The guards didn't respond too happily to my query as to whether Mrs. Fando could try on the Hope Diamond. Perhaps I should have asked before taking it out of the case. I can assure you that the security system there is quite formidable and I'm fortunate to still have all my fingers. After all the trouble I went to, you'd think they'd have at least let me hold it up to her to see how it would look.

The National Gallery has some fantastic work. We saw the authentic version of a print we have in our living room (Monet's wife with a parasol.) One tip for this museum: If you have allergies, stay well back from the paintings. The good news is that the art restorers will have gainful employment for at least another six months. My apologies to all fans of Da Vinci, Monet, Cezanne, Raphael, El Greco, and James MacNeill Whistler (Not that you'd notice, in Whistler's case).

The Air and Space Museum was magnificent (and not just as a testimony to there being air in space, as all Simpsons fans know.) The Spirit of St. Louis, The X1, Skylab, the Lunar Lander, and the Roswell spacecraft (special exhibit - today only) were all very cool. The flight simulator was slightly nauseating, especially when the littlest Fando was piloting. I should never have told her what a barrel roll was. The most unusual moment of that visit was when our child declared her desire to leap over the railing of the second floor and onto one of the planes. Thank heavens I was able to talk her down.

The Museum of American History was nice, with some inspiring flags (Old Glory, the flag that inspired the Star Spangled Banner, and The Pentagon flag from 9/11) and lots of Presidential history. While in Julia Child's kitchen I continued a long tradition started by Dan Akroyd when I loudly exclaimed "Oh, I've cut the dickens out of my finger!" I then proceeded to spray the dozen ketchup packets I picked up at the Air and Space cafe all over the place. Again, the security personnel didn't share my appreciation for American pop culture and history and gang-tackled me. If I hadn't been wearing Fonzie's jacket (borrowed from the TV exhibit), I might have been seriously hurt.

The zoo and the monuments await. I've always wanted to sit in Lincoln's lap, so I'll let you know how it goes.

Cheers,

Earl

If cable theft you commit, we will NOT acquit.

What O.J. Simpson has done is beyond the pale. According to a report published at the reputable E-Online website it has been confirmed that The Juice was [dramatic pause] stealing satellite television. Now, I know that Orethal James has had a checkered past but stealing satellite TV is an unforgivable action. People work very hard everyday to provide us with fine programs like Monday Night Football, Sunday Afternoon Football, Capricorn One, and those shows on Court TV. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to prejudge OJ as I hear he is looking for the real “cable thieves”, but I just have a feeling something is fishy in Miami.

Be that as it may we present the:

“Top Ten reasons O.J. was stealing satellite TV”

10. Thought he could re-edit footage of the Naked Gun series to show he wasn’t the real killer.

9. Couldn’t get his TIVO to edit out those damned annoying Teletubbies.

8. Kato Kaelin had to have work.

7. Due to civil trial verdict he can’t afford it. (Wait that might be true)

6. Had to have entertainment for the big reunion party with Chris Darden, Marcia Clark, and Mark Fuhrman. Hey after all, they got him off.

5. His addiction to the Home Shopping Network. He can’t get enough Bruno Magli loafers and leather gloves, not to mention his extensive knife collection.

4. Claimed that Al Cowlings was going to pay the bill but “you know how slow he drives.”

3. Three words, El Sabado Gigante.

2. Claims the elves dancin’ around the ghost of Elvis told him if he stole television signals they would reveal the “real killers”. (Hat tip to Earl’s host)

1. Oh hell, let’s admit it. He’s guilty.

What can I get for a dollar?

If Godwin Kipkemoi Chepkurgor had his way he would now be hitched to ex-First Daughter Chelsea Clinton for the sum of 40 goats and 20 cows. Now, Hillary jokes aside, I think this 36 year old Kenyan might spark a revival of the defunct notion, at least in the United States, of a dowry. There was once a time when a man could at least expect a little payola for the notion of a man wedding his daughter, now the poor schmuck must shell out a small country’s GDP to throw a nice wedding.

There are certainly a bevy of young, beautiful Hollywood actresses that would bring a nice return on the investment of a lifetime. If any of their fathers wish to take me up on it I will be the mediator and arrange the exchange of their daughter’s hand for descent remuneration. Some examples of reasonable dowries follow:

* Natalie Portman: Twenty jawas, two landspeeders, and a case of Colt 45 from Lando Calrissian.

* Lindsay Lohan: Tickets to Disney World for life, compensation for cosmetic surgery, ear plugs, and a lifetime supply of Zoloft.

* Paris Hilton: Legal payments for scandals yet to be named, a slice of the Carl’s Jr. action, the remains of Tinkerbell in an unmarked sack, have the term “That’s hot” removed from the English language. (This last one may be difficult)

* Ashlee Simpson: Subscription to VH-1’s Where are They Now? so he can get the DVD when her episode comes out, return of some semblance of dignity, and 20 cows.

* Hilary Duff: More Disney World tickets, cruise to Alaska, 30 cows and a sheep.

I will perform the service for no money but it would be nice if a brother could get a cow or two.

The dangers of the "next blog"!!!!!!

Well, with Earl on the road things are a little lonely around the palatial DOUI offices. Since I was sitting around here bored, I decided to do a few “next blogs” on the old Blogger page. I have found that most of the blogs fit into four categories. First, there are the political commentary blogs mostly penned by people who should reserve their writing for grocery lists. Then there are the blogs written by fans of either a particular author or musician, who ascribe genius to their particular idol. The third category is the x-rated blog, I don’t think I want to go any further into that. The last type is the blog of the disillusioned teenager or young adult and this is the category that caught my interest.

I have read through a few of them and would now like to attempt to recreate here at the Dictionary of Unfortunate Ideas, a disillusioned teenager’s blog we’ll call: “My Parents are Low-life Creeps”.

My pAreNTs aRe LoW-liFe cReePs!!!!!

Wednesday July 27, 2005

My life sux, part deux!!!!

What do you know, the low-life’s found my gun.
I guess they want a prize or something. I did glue my sisters shoes to the floor last night so at least I felt better about the pillow thing. Then I found the pillow in my closet… oh well… she deserved it anyhow.

I feel bloated today.

Posted by Rachel at 10:45 am Comments (0)

Tuesday July 26, 2005

I am still pissed about my gun!!!!!!!!

I think my loser sister stole my Jack Skellington pillow again.
She better hope I don’t find it in her room. I’m still pissed off about my gun. How could they lose it? Been listening to Limp Bizkit on the Pod to take my troubles away. Oh, who am I kidding.

Posted by Rachel at 7:55 pm Comments (0)


Monday July 25, 2005

@#$!...They lost my F***ing gun!!!

Just when I thought this lousy family couldn't do another damned thing to drive me insane they went and lost my grandmother's 32. This is -my- gun...MY gun! If it was Joanie's gun we would have had a house-turned-upside down search but no... I'm told to calm down... after all it's just a gun.

a;sdfklja;lkerja;liejra;mkfa;sdjlkas;
du;aoiejui489038947t5u2pija;kldsfua;
soidfj I am so freakin pissed right now I can't even see straight. I cannot live another moment in this family... they really just don't give a rats ass about anything that matters to me.

Posted by Rachel at 8:45 am Comments (0)

I have decided that my kids are going to skip the teenage years and go directly into adulthood.

So Many Lies, So Many Lies

As we have already made you very aware in this Dictionary, USA Today published the supposed results of a pretend survey posing as the list of greatest bands in the history of bands according to e-mails received from persons in places as diverse as El Dorado, Arkansas and Little Rock, Arkansas. Pearl Jam win for having the best hair in face and oldest Doc Martens, and U2 didn't even make an appearance despite Bono having save the starving children of Capetown every day of the year. Good job, e-mail persons, good job not giving best choice to man who saving the childrens what starved in Capetown.

Well, Juan Carlos Vega become very suspicious about the means in which this survey was perpetrated upon America, so I decide to use the scientific methodology of survey to produce results far more accurate to the true tastes of America's music listeners. I used a complicated array of phone calling techniques, masses of unendorsed bulk business mail sent to one in seven houses in one in five cities located in one in eight states of the USofA, and also other secreter techniques that Mr. Gallup will not let me reveal.

Here, then, is the more accurate listing of the top ten rock 'n roll bands of all time, according to You the People.

1. Cornwaldy's Funtime Banjo Club -- "They've stayed true to their image and loyal to their formulae," wrote Gavin Riordan of Botswaddle, MI. "They've maintained a rigorous touring schedule for fifty seven years and none of 'em ever died on stage," whispered Klarke Barr of Untervayr, TX.

2. Porpoise Noises, USA -- "They are the best porpoise noise using band ever, man, ever in the history of noises," intoned Lucretia Borgia of Italy, OH. "They take sounds of nature and make natural sounds with them," informed Tony Tonee of Toe Knee, CA.

3. Bigg Oll Ghutt -- "He makes goodest songs with his harpsicord and his discordant screams," regulated Hugh Downs of Beavertown, FL. "He gave me a sandwich," illuminated Qwan Fwuong of Hong Kong, IL.

4. Gritty's Loudest Clicks -- "They've established a whole genre of click-based blues 'n roll that is succoring the suffering," groaned Frank Bank of Hanover, NY. "They probably ought to wear pants when they're onstage, but...whatever," shrugged Juanita Methodist of Baptist, IA.

5. Ain't You Heard That Biskit -- "The fabulousest nine-member all-harp death metal band I've ever known," hummed Basquette Kayse of Dallas, MS. "They sang about m'dog gittin' runned over by their tour bus," drawled Lucius Battle of Bull Run, SC.

6. Wimmin Cain't Swim Good -- "Nobody can touch 'em, on account of they don't let nobody touch 'em and live, 'cause they got, like, knives," undermoaned Thomas Letterman of Laytshow, AL. "I don't like it when people call me and ask me about rock bands. I usually shoot them kinds of peoples," stated Virgil Powder of Boone Country, AR.

7. Ronald Odor -- "The use of a triangle to summon a herd of harmoniously humming herbivores makes for one wicked concert, my bro," illustrated Jane Goodall of Chimptown, USA. "He has produced close to three hundred albums in the course of a six decade career, but I ain't never purchased one," admitted John Cusack of Fleasores, GA.

8. Reddest Britches -- "Ain't Reddest Britches basically just one old toothless guy sitting on his porch, playing a fiddle with no strings, humming old civil war songs, and asking for monetary donations from the cattle milling about the nearby field?" inquired Meeteater Smiggy of Springfield, MO. "Sumpin' about red pants, I guess," suggested Tom Tomorrow of Epcot, FL.

9. Really Quiet Nuns -- "Sometimes you just want people to shut up, and when they do, you willin' to pay a little money to keep 'em shut up," cheered Malcome Jamal Schwartzkoff of Diny's House, IL. "It's sort o' creepy like how they just stand on stage and say nuthin' and just stare at people for one hour with horse-hoof hats on they heads," muttered Jake Tolbert of Fayetteville, AR.

10. Toonses the Cat Who Could Play a Sitar -- "Never seen a cat play a sitar. What's a sitar? What's a cat? Did you bring the waterbuffalo steaks I demanded or shall I eat you instead?" asked Polar Bear McGee of Tulsa Zoo, OK. "Snarl! Snap!" hissed the biting crocodile in the storybook.

So there you go. The truth that USA Today did not want you to know! Then top ten greatest rock 'n roll bands of all time, according to the American People! Take this truth and ingest into yourself like a powerful ancient native medicine such as trepanning. Ding!

The Greatest American Rock and Roll Band?

According to USA Today entertainment reporter Whitney Matheson and her e-mail survey, the greatest rock band of all time in America is (drumroll) Pearl Jam? (kazoo noise)

Nothing against the Seattle-based band fronted by Eddie Vedder and named after the most improbable entry into the Welch's product lineup (let's not go beyond that, shall we), but an e-mail survey is one of the most statistically invalid forms of sampling there is. The only real metaphor I can think of to describe such a survey's worth would be, oh, comparing it to an "entertainment reporter."

Of course Ms. Matheson and her legions of twenty-something readers (which admittedly is at least a couple of dozen more than our readership...with some creative rounding) are wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! In fact, just to give you the fullest measure of how wrong they are, let me repeat myself with emphasis.

WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! WRONG WRONG!!! I hope I'm clear on that.

The reason they're wrong is because the greatest American rock band of all time isn't Pearl Jam. It's not the Beach Boys, or Aerosmith, or Journey, or the Doors. It's not even the legendary Grunge Pirates of Omaha. As any true aficianado of rock music knows, the greatest band of all time are the remarkable Rabid Prawns, of Kissimmee, Florida.

Rabid Prawns, or, as they're known to their fans, Zimpdendorfen Von Trottenschpackle, were formed in 1969 by an out of work toothpick repairman named Gill Thunder. Tired of the standard hippie, psychedelic, beach, hot-rod, underground pastiche of rock, Gill decided to take rock and roll where it had never been before, and in all fairness had probably never wished to go.

Gill gathered around him a unique collection of musicians: Dave "Flipper"Winkle, the electric guitarist who refused to use standard, or for that matter, any tunings and created a sound that Eddie Van Halen once described as "like a beached lungfish amplified a million times;" Genghis Trout, percussionist, whose variety of gamelans, toms, gongs, and xylophones generated an eerie rythmic dissonance to accompany all the other dissonance; Punkin' Ludtefisk, mistress of the bass flute, who reputedly could make a noise so low it set off richter scales in Bangkok.

On top of all this, Gill was the front man, lead singer and the one and only master of the one instrument that could bring together such an eclectic and ludicrous combo...the electric bagpipes.

Legend has it that during one concert, at Ireland's Slane Castle, Gill ripped a solo so outrageously loud and penetrating, that it split Van Morrison's skull in two. Small aircraft could not travel within 25 miles of a Rabid Prawns concert because of the sonic vibrations caused by the majestic pipes, amplified through a Marshall stack running at just over 100,000 watts.

Fans weren't awed just by the remarkably violent sound though, for Gill Thunder was an astonishing lyricist as well. Just sample some of the poetry, the beauty, of this man's verse. (For the proper perspective, this should be sung standing next to a jet aircraft engine, a Space Shuttle launch, or a George Galloway speech - DOUI does not bear any responsibility for those who attempt such a feat however as all three, especially that last one, can kill you stone dead.)

Stone Dead (Excerpt)

lyrics by Gill Thunder

It was an early November morn when I saw you lying in the road
I almost hit you with my Mustang and squashed you flat as a toad
Baby, baby, baby, baby, ba-bee can't you see, can't you see?
Of course you can't, you're stone dead, and you smell like DDT.

Bob Dylan wept like a baby the first time he read those lyrics. Elton John put a gun to his head and was ready to pull the trigger after reading those lyrics (fortunately he was talked out of it by comedian Soupy Sales.) Paul McCartney and John Lennon stopped fighting and actually both threw a cherry pie in Yoko Ono's face after reading just the first two lines of that song. William Shakespeare gave up writing sonnets forever after reading those lyrics, or would have had he not been dead for 350 years.

Rabid Prawns only ever released 3 albums:

We're Rabid Prawns - Which contains the ballad Stone Dead (see above), the neo-Skiffle lament My Toast is on Fire, and the energetic teen anthem Pus.

We're Still Rabid Prawns - Notable for the greatest love song of all time (according to NFL Legend Joe Namath's manicurist), Squids on the Loose.

Heaven Help Us, We Remain Rabid Prawns - Their final and greatest album containing the peace anthem I'm Smashing Your Brains in as Fast as I Can!, the transcendental You're Rubbish, and their greatest Top 40 hit Nudity - I Like It! (with a spoon solo by F. Lee Bailey.)

With so much creative energy, as well as violent impulses, the band was destined to burn out after just a few years. After the release of Heaven Help Us... in 1972, they each went their seperate ways to different correctional institutions. Dave was paroled in 1987 for good behavior and became a ginzu knife salesman, which was a serious violation of his parole, after which he was reincarcerated for another 12 years. Genghis got out in 1989 and joined the Peace Corps and is currently in Tanzania helping farmers to learn the proper ways to fix the carburetor on a '79 Malibu Classic. Punkin' changed her named to Olivia Newton-John after breaking out of Leavenworth and moved to Australia, where she hit it big until she was rearrested (for making Xanadu) and sentenced to death. The sentence was commuted by President Bill Clinton on the condition that she make a valuable contribution to society and pay a visit to the Lincoln bedroom every fortnight.

Gill Thunder? The most tragic tale of all the Rabid Prawns came to a close in Couer D'Alene, Idaho in 1991, when Gill was savaged by a pack of prarie dogs while on a work release job as a windshield-wiper salesman. All that was left of him when the little vermin bastards were finished was a femur, two sticks of Doublemint gum, and a neckalce with the word "Finkle" engraved on the chain. He was only 42. He died Prairie Dog food, but while he lived, he and his loony bandmates made not only great music...they made history.

Name that Baby!

One of the big crazes these days among new parents is choosing a name for your child that is out of the ordinary. Rather than selecting tried and true, old-fashioned and comfortingly familiar sobriquets, like John or Mary, parents are seeking more exotic monikers for their tots, such as Juandalynn, Kreeli, and Apple.

While we at DOUI feel terribly sorry for the children subjected to this self-indulgent twaddle, we don't wish to be too judgmental, given that these children's loony parents are potential readers of this site. (We mean the word "loony" in all love and respect.) So, in order to help some of you out, I have compiled a sample list of designer names, from my upcoming reference tome, Baby Names for Celebrities. Browse through them, and if you find something you like, feel free to use it. Just please don't let your child know where you found the name, for when they finally have their breakdown and turn homicidal.

Suggested Baby Names

by (Name withheld for fear of loonies)

Abobobobobobob - Male. Derivative of Bob, Robert, Bobby, and Bob-bob. Origin: Made up just for this bit. Meaning: He who is likely to repeat himself.

Burtopatamus - Male. Derivative of Burt, and Pat. Origin: Latin, or maybe Greek. Quite possibly Urdu or even Creole. Meaning: The offspring of Burt Reynolds and a Hippo.

Cellular - Female. Origin: Cingular, AT&T, Sprint, etc. Meaning: She who asks, "Can you hear me now?"

Drizzlella - Female, except in Somalia, Portugal, and parts of Idaho. Origin: Martian. Meaning: She who was conceived during a light rain.

Ecugarichterfrappaloozepaloosa - Male and Female. Origin: Woodstock, well into the gunja-weed. Meaning: Wow, man! I am so baked!

F - Male, Female, Children of undetermined sex. Origin: Oxford English Dictionary. Meaning: The one whose name, if fully spelled out, would be too naughty for this particular web site. (Alternate meaning, from the Welsh: They, who stir their frappucino with a leek.)

Ginzu - Male. Origin: Japanese, via Infommercials. Meaning: Serrated.

Hassanchop - Male. Origin: A Warner Brothers cartoon, starring Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck. Meaning: The slow of mind one will slice the little black duck into pieces. (Alternate meaning: Consequences, schmonsequences...)

Iggly - Female. Derivative of Iggy, and Igloo. Origin: Pidgin Eskimo. Meaning: Frigid, but only on the outside.

Jizzlella - Female. Origin: Def Jam Concert, Episode 17. Meaning: Frizzle, Sphizzle.

Kringlulous - Male. Origin: Reader's Digest. Meaning: He who resembles a flaky Danish pastry.

Well, I don't have room for the whole alphabet, but I hope this will whet your appetite for the book. Best wishes to all the little Jizzlellas and Burtopatamuses out there. Go easy on your parents. They were overcome with liquor when they named you, just like when they conceived you.