Happy 80th, Your Majesty!

That would be Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth II, celebrating her eightieth birthday today (well, yesterday by now, in London). Long may she reign, especially since the alternative is King Charles III and Queen Camilla. No personal offense meant to the Prince of Wales and his consort - so to speak, but it would be rather a let down after 54+ years of the sovereign class Bess the second has provided. Sort of like following up Radiohead in concert with Hall and Oates.

Just as an aside, I've always thought that the expression "Her Royal Highness" sounded a bit, well... funky. Nowadays people tend to associate the word "highness" with dope. So, to hear the expression in this context makes me imagine the Queen has some huge, smoking, illicit gunja crop in the inner courtyard of Buckingham. I have little regard for pot smoking, but I can't help but think that there's a generation out there who may suspect there's a reason that Elizabeth knighted Paul McCartney besides the music.

It doesn't help that Prince Philip always looks a bit stoned.

The classics never get old.

"Comedy is not pretty." Those words spoken by Steve Martin those many years ago ring true to this day. Even though he was talking about something entirely different and they were said in a way that evoked actually laughter, they did come back to me today. When reading through the internet news stories looking for material it is hard to feel funny when so much of it is death, destruction, natural disasters, and Tom Cruise. Well wait, that last one does usually make me feel funny, kind of like having gloves made out of spam or underwear filled with raspberry jello. The rest of it, however, is pretty darn depressing.

It's times like these that I like to call my old friend Lukas P. Short and just get a dose of his bucolic wisdom. After reading the news today I gave old Luke a call to see if I could get his take on what's going on out there in the real world.

Luke: Howdy, Short residence, Lukas speakin'.

Stew: Hey Luke, it's Stew how are you doing today?

Luke: Well doggies boy, I'm doin' fine, how's things out there in your neck of the woods?

Stew: Great, I hope you don't mind but I'd like to run some of the news by you and see what you think.

Luke: Now don't you fret son, I'm always here for you.

Stew: Well I guess the big story is Hu's trip to the White House today.

Luke: Well let me see, no can't rightly say that I know. Who is it?

Stew: Luke you don't understand, Hu's the president of China.

Luke: Hmmmm, I know it used to be a guy called Mao.

Stew: Who?

Luke: The president of China, that's who?

Stew: Yes, that's Hu.

Luke: Stew, you're not making fun of me now?

Stew: No, you got it right.

Luke: What?

Stew: The president of China.

Luke: Mao?

Stew: No, first was Mao then there was Deng?

Luke: Dung? Who's Dung?

Stew: No, Hu's Hu, Deng's Deng.

Luke: The president of China?

Both together: Third base!!!!!!!!

After the call I felt a little headachey so I think I'll go back to making Tom Cruise jokes.

TGIF-Fridays (Thetans Get In Free on Fridays)

Word of the birth of young Suri Holmes-Cruise is flying around the world via the airwaves, high-speed fiber optic cables, satellite transmission, and Thetan brainwaves. A little slower to make the rounds is word of Tom and Katie's new restaurant chain dedicated to helping us all bond with our children in a quiet and relaxing environment.

The restaurants will serve a varied menu based on the concept of western fusion cuisine mainly featuring placenta. There will be complete silence, aside from the occasional retching, and there will be special stations available for those who wish to disgorge. Reservations will be accepted based on your Operating Thetan levels so it is recommended that you audit yourself at regular intervals.

Below is a menu sampling

Placenta Parmesan - A bed of fucilli pasta with lots of thick red sauce... oh, and a big lump of afterbirth with pine nuts and basil. Dig in!!!!!!!!!

Artichoke stuffed Placenta - Delicate artichokes cooked to perfection infuse the placenta and make your taste buds tingle. Wait a minute... (small gagging sounds) Hold it in man. Choke it down (if you can).

Polenta and Placenta - We mix a wonderfully gritty polenta and lightly baked placenta into a taste combination we know you'll enjoy. Bon Appetite!!!!!!!!

Placenta Scaloppine - Sauteed placenta with mushrooms, capers, and smoked prosciutto in a lemon butter sauce...excuse me (sounds of enormous vomiting, copious amounts which soon crescendo into a volume that the human mind cannot grasp) There, I'm better. Enjoy with a nice Chianti!!!!!

Boursin Filet - Center cut tenderloin cooked to order and topped with a creamy pepper Boursin cheese. (Side of placenta upon request)

So, get down to TGIF-Fridays as soon as one opens near you. Don't forget to try their convenient vomitoriums.

The Cruise Diet

Speaking of Tom Cruise, someone round up the straightjacket and prepare the Haldol syringe. Mr. Cruise has finally gone over the merry edge of "Eccentricville" and into the land of "Quite Disturbing." I warn you, this is not for the squeamish. He has apparently announced that upon the birth of his child, he will be eating the placenta.

Cleaned up from the vomiting now, have you? Good. By the way, Cruise reportedly claims this practise will help him bond with his child. What's wrong with a few good bottle feedings or a song, man?!?

Apparently this kind of thing is also somewhat common among some hardcore vegetarians, who consider placenta the only meat given that doesn't involve suffering, except of course from those poor, deranged, protein-starved wretches who decide to eat it. I should also point out that any individuals who could argue that the arrival of a placenta involves no suffering are probably men, or women who have never given birth, and these idiots might easily be beaten to death with a bedpan were they to suggest such a thing during the... erm...harvesting.

Also, isn't this actually a kind of cannibalism? I mean, we are talking about people eating meat produced from the body of other people? It's not a big leap to go from there to flesh-eating in general. First, it'll be someone's placenta, then next, an arm, a thigh, or the better part of an elbow. So, be careful! The next time your at the organic market, the person sizing you up might merely be trying to figure out whether you're in season or not.

UPDATE: Little Suri Cruise has entered the bizarro realm that passes for her part of the world. Yes, Suri. She was apparently named after Surinam. I'll let Stew have any additional extended comments on the name, if he so chooses. All reports indicate that the birth was silent as Cruise predicted, except for Holmes screaming, "I'll get you for this Tom, you ******* bastard!" after every contraction. Other than that, and the odd celebrity Scientology quote (and by odd, I don't mean there were just a few), there's little news.

All I'll leave you with then is the unsettling notion that right now, as I write this, somewhere in California, Tom Cruise may be standing over a Hibachi preparing to bond with his new child.

Ungawa this, Tarzan!

Popular film star Cheetah, of the Tarzan films of the 1940's and 50's recently turned 74 years old. Cheetah is the oldest living chimpanzee known and although diabetic, is still in remarkable condition. I sat down with Cheetah to talk about being 74, the Tarzan films, Hollywood, bananas, the Lancelot Link televison series, pastrami sandwiches, nuclear fusion, and Maureen O'Sullivan's skimpy costumes. What follows are excerpts from our lengthy conversation. Someone, please remind me to buy a tape-recorder for future interviews like this so I can remember the whole thing, will you?

**********

Earl: Cheetah, it's great to have a chance to chat with you.

Cheetah: No problem, man. I'm retired, but a little nostagia press now and then doesn't hurt the ego, if you know what I mean.

Earl: First of all, what's the secret to your having lived so long?

Cheetah: Well, I drink a gallon of Courvoisier a day, smoke 200 packs of cigarettes in a week, shoot up and string out every morning, get plenty of attention from the ladies, and snort lots of coke before bed.

Earl: You're kidding? You should've been dead inside a week.

Cheetah: Of course I'm kidding! Everything I said was made up, except for the Courvoisier. I get asked that question all the time. It's boring. Don't do drugs, kids!

Earl: So, no lady action either?

Cheetah: I'm 74. That's 128 in chimp years. The sail doesn't go up the misenmast anymore, if you know what I mean.

Earl: Beg pardon?

Cheetah: The elevator doesn't get off the ground floor, capice?

Earl: Didn't understand a word.

Cheetah: The crane won't elevate...The zepplin doesn't fly...the stickshift won't go to second gear...Anything?

Earl: Sorry.

(Cheetah whispers in Earl's ear)

Earl: OH! (coughs) Erm... I see. What about Viagra?

Cheetah: Not so much as a twitch.

Earl: Let's move on...

**********

Earl: How you get started in show business?

Cheetah: I was a mere babe, minding my own business in the rain forest one day, when all of sudden I get ambushed by a wild bunch of crazies, intent on taking me away from my home and my family!

Earl: Poachers?

Cheetah: Talent Scouts. The funny thing was I originally got hired to play the lead in Scarface, but United Artists got cold feet and cast Paul Muni instead. They said I would have been too sympathetic.

**********

Earl: What was it like working with Johnny Weismuller?

Cheetah: I could barely communicate with the man.

Earl: Did you not speak as much English at the time?

Cheetah: (Laughs) Nah! I was fluent from age two. It's just that... well, you know how Tarzan talks, right?

Earl: "Tarzan." "Jane." "Ungawa." ...That sort of thing?

Cheetah: Right. Well, that wasn't Tarzan at all. That was Johnny.

Earl: Really?

Cheetah: Well, he was an athlete you know.

Earl: What about the yell?

Cheetah: Some young kid by the name of Burnett. Great pipes, that kid. Anyway, Johnny was a nice guy, but I got a little tired of "Olympics." "Medal." "Big Winner." That and he was always showing off by racing the crocodiles.

Earl: He raced crocodiles in the water? Wasn't that dangerous?

Cheetah: Nah, they were union guys. They knew better than to eat a contract player. Sure, you get lunch for one day, but then it's off the set and you never work in the business again. Better to bite your tongue and wait for the caterer to show up for the afternoon.

Earl: What about Maureen O'Sullivan?

Cheetah: Grrrroooowl! She was a hottie all right. I was on the set for that scene where she dives in the water and has the major wardrobe malfunction. All sails up on the windjammer then, if you get my drift!

Earl: Erm...sorry?

Cheetah: Skip it.

**********

Earl: What do you do in your leisure time?

Cheetah: You mean besides interviews with crummy Internet reporters?

Earl: If you must.

Cheetah: Well, I'm a geriatric, so the usual stuff: Shuffleboard, Blue Plate Specials, cruise around in the Lincoln. I do like to paint, too.

Earl: Neo-primitive? Surrealism? Fauvist?

Cheetah: Black velvet. I can do an Elvis like you ain't seen. I tried the dogs playing poker, but it just wasn't my bag.

Earl: What do you think of the contemporary Hollywood scene?

Cheetah: Everyone's so tame these days. It's like Swanson said, "The pictures have gotten small."

Earl: Actually, she said that playing the deranged old bat Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard.

Cheetah: Picky, picky! I'm a chimp. What do I know? Anyway, I haven't seen anyone who has half the energy of a Buster Crabbe, or Vic Mature these days... except for...

Earl: Yes?

Cheetah: Well, there is this one kid I saw who had loads of energy. I saw him on Oprah one day and he was bouncing up and down on the couch like, like a...

Earl: Like you?

Cheetah: Well, yeah! Call me crazy, but he did remind me of me.

Earl: Oh, it's not you that's crazy...

It's still frickin' cold!!!!!!!!

Scientists in Japan have taken core samples from a 1 million year old block of ice in Antarctica. (No, wait that isn't the joke.) They believe that the samples will unlock the secrets of past eras due to finding on the levels of carbon dioxide and methane in the layers. It was later learned in the news conference that Godzilla is pissed because the ice he had for his big block party is missing and he is said to be destroying Tokyo at this very moment. (OK, you can laugh now, no really, please don't make me beg)

In our thirst for scientific knowledge here at DOUI we always like to sit down with these eggheads and try and dig deeper into the story. After the news conference, I sat down with Hideaki Motoyama and his team to discuss their findings.

Stew: Thank you for discussing your teams findings Dr. Motoyama.

HM: You are most welcome Miller-san, we at NIPR (pronounced nipper) hope to enlighten the world to what is happening 3 kilometers under the surface of Antarctica. We have spent millions of dollars because we think it will mean something important to our present day society.

Dr. Hiroshi Ishiguro (who bears a striking resemblence to a young Jerry Lewis) comes in with a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade.

Dr. Ishiguro: Honorable Miller-san, would you enjoy to imbibe some of the lemonade?

Stew: Thank you, I would enjoy a glass.

HM: Hiroshi, where did you get the ice for lemonade? I thought the icemaker was broken. You didn't use the...

HI: Uh oh.

Stew does enormous spit take.

HM: You fool!!!!! Thank goodness we have another sample left, you could have ruined our research.

Stew: Back to your research, what are we supposed to learn from these ice sample from 3 kilometers below the surface of Antarctica?

HM: We hope to learn information concerning the climate at various periods in the past as we study the strati. The concentrations of CO2 and methane will give us a unique look at the ancient world of seals and penguins. Sniff it, mmmmm can you just smell the methane.

HI: Sorry Motoyama-san, but I believe that is some bad sushi I got for lunch.

HM: Go away! You are like a bull in a china shop. Anyway, please view this group of slides that will show you other research we are conducting.



Drilling into the million year old KFC coleslaw.



Drilling into the million year old cow chip provided by Honorable Lukas-san.



How did that get in there? Hiroshiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!



Getting core sample from Barbra Streisand's brain.



Million year old Long John Silver clam strips.



Million year old fondue should reveal a great deal of methane.

HM: I hope that explains the aims of our research.

Stew: I think we get the picture.

HI: Honorable Miller-san, please accept beautiful swan ice sculpture as parting gift.

HM: HIROSHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Funny Bunny

Well, Easter has come and gone, and what do people focus on? Death and Resurrection? Salvation by Grace?

Bunnies. In particular, one very large, stealthy, egg-obsessed, and sugar-addicted bunny: The Easter Bunny.

Think about it. Here we have a rabbit whose primary job in life is to sneak into people's homes on the eve of one of the holiest days of the year, take all their coloured boiled eggs, hide them in the backyard or living room, and then leave loads of candy in a basket. Just what kind of perve is this buck-toothed, long-eared, intruder?

The sneaking part is bad enough. How comfortable are you knowing that a six-foot rodent is sashaying around your parlour whilst you are unconscious in the next room? Make sure you aren't wearing orange pyjamas or you might get mistaken for a large carrot. How would that look in the in the papers the next day? ADULT EATEN BY EASTER BUNNY. The NY Post would go one better of course: "BUNNY DEVOURS LOCAL HONEY" or "PARENTS BECOME HUMAN CARROTS" or even "GIANT STALKER NIBBLES OPRAH." Admittedly, this last one might amuse Steadman, who would be the prime suspect apart from E.B.

The leaving candy is a ruse. Choc-ie bunnies? Candy eggs? Obviously the Easter Bunny is in league with the national dental associations. Then there's Candy Corn (or Maize). Just what the hell is this stuff, anyway? It doesn't look like corn/maize, or even small overripe bits of hominy. What it looks like are rather dodgy vampire teeth that haven't had the blood stains brushed away in a few centuries. Maybe on Halloween, but Easter? Watching children eating those little chick-shaped peeps is gory enough for me.

It's the egg-hiding that is the strangest thing. What's the ruddy point? "Look, I can barely hide eggs!" Whoopie. How impressive. It's like some sort of anti-cholesterol protest gone all stroppy.

No, it's triple locks on the doors and plenty of lights on around the flat. Let the Easter Bunny contend with the guard dogs and the Neighborhood Watch. We like our eggs right where they are thanks. If you want to leave chocolate, send it by post.