If we wanted to use more than 140 characters, we'd be writing more here.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Has Bin Laden Snuffed It?

Is Osama Bin Laden (or as we at DOUI like to call him, Porky) dead? Some intelligence reports suggest that he died recently from typhoid. French intelligence denied it though, releasing a statement that in part said, "We don't want to declare victory too soon, or ever for that matter," and also, "If necessary, we will surrrender to Osama's corpse, if we can find it."

To my French friends reading this, I know you are as appalled as we are. Keep sending us that champagne and Camembert though, bless your culinary souls.

Over the last few years, there have been several suggestions that Bin Laden has checked out. Some said he was killed a Bora Tora. Others suggest that he died a few years ago of liver failure. It's like reading Rasputin's obituary, only without the sexual references.

Some have even suggested that Al Queda is keeping Bin Laden's death a secret because he didn't go out as a martyr, but instead, died cowering in a cave, like the goatherding, effeminate, vicious poltroon he is. Very plausible, that.

Listen, there's a simple answer to all this. If Osama's still alive, he could simply pop up one day in downtown Kabul and let everyone know. He would be cut to ribbons with automatic machine-gun fire, but we'd at least have our answer. If he's dead, they could just pull an El Cid and strap his corpse to a horse and send it towards a Bradley fighting vehicle, or do a Used Cars and put him in a sedan and steer it towards something large and flammable.

Either way, everyone's happy, so long as he doesn't take anyone with him, including the horse.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Coconut a pseudonym? Noe! Noe! Noe!

I'll have Nuffy know that Linus Coconut is a distinguished member of the East Coast Coconut family, who own a major chain of hotels (Coconuts Inns), Thrift shops (Coconuts R Us), and even a chain of fine restaurants and pubs. Ever heard of the Coconut Grove? Well, these are just like that, only seedier and with a more limited menu.

Furthermore, Linus, or Mr. Coconut to you, is well known to the cognescenti of the shores of dear old Columbia. I don't mean Columbia the cocaine capital of the world, though he is also known there. I mean Columbia, Gem of the Ocean, in particular several suburbs of Madison, Wisconsin, and Kalamazoo, Michigan. Also, by cognescenti, I mean the staff of Coconuts R Us, and the late Bob Denver, who Linus once accidentally knocked over at a Grateful Dead concert.

Finally, Linus is highly regarded by the military-industrial complex and also several Hollywood stars, mainly because he does their taxes and fixes them up with really good accomodations when they stay in Washington (at the lovely Coconut Monument Hotel, situated in the basement of the Lincoln Memorial).

So, don't think you can casually cast aspersions at the only other member of DOUI who is a strong candidate for medications so easily! It will take more aspersions than that. A lot more! Asperse away, then!

Linus WHO?

Linus Coconut? That's not a legal name, my friends and gentry. I suspect it is one of them there, what you might call, little ole pseudonyms. I can't prove it, of course, but I have contacts in the secret information underworld, so let me just say that various and sundry of these creepy sneaky contacts have told me that the latest blogger here in this Dictionary of Unfortunate Ideas is not, I repeat for no reason, NOT who he claims to be.

In fact, I recently interviewed the patriarch of the Coconut family, based out of Bidville, Arkansas. None other that Eldrich Coconut sat down with me on a tattered velvet couch in his barn, and while we sipped goat milk out of tin cans and munched on pickled sow dainties, I asked him the pertninentest questions in the history of time.

ME -- Mr. Coconut, are you or have you ever been related to a certain person named Linus Coconut?

ELDRICH -- En't n'Linus in dis'ere fambly, ne'er was n'r were on 'count of I en't gun name nob'dee dis'n or dat'n type name.

ME -- I'll take that as a no. No, you say, there is no one named Linus in the entire Coconut family. I can put you on record as having said no?

ELDRICH -- Pendin' on wacher gun say dem dere rec'rd fer, getcha what, hey?

ME -- So it is definitely a NO. There is no such person, legally or otherwise, as Linus Coconut.

ELDRICH -- Whanchoo put dan'ere whever you t'ank whachoo hafter say, see now, wha?

ME -- Right. And who would you suspect this Linus Coconut might, in truthiness, actually be?

ELDRICH -- Hey whancher telly wif dem's ran down dem diff'nt dere, heya, fafoo, charee, mingoid?

At this point, the milk cow fell over and we had to end the interview so Eldrich Coconut could hoist her back onto her pedestal. But I think I heard enough. Yes, quite enough to tell me that Linus Coconut is neither a real Linus nor a true Coconut. Pseudonym, indeed. Who could this Linus Coconut be? Sources that I have, secret type creepy moustache sources, have narrowed the possibilities down to three:

1) Telly Savalas
2) Warwick Davis
3) Bill O'Reilly's favorite talking felt hat

In the coming days, no doubt, the truth about which of these three persons/things Linus Coconut really and truly and actually is will be revealed, and my money is on number 3.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Yuki-san! Look out for that monster!!!

Well, I for one am gratified to see that Stew has moved on from his reverent hero-worship of well-known undead actor Peter Graves. I feel Stew's newest enthusiasm, for Japanese-styled monster/science-fiction movies, is much more well-placed than reliving episodes of Mission Impossible, as directed by George Romero.

So, in the spirit of collegiality(and in a sneaky attempt to get Linus to post more, as he loves this sort of crap), allow me to make some suggestions in the area of Japanese-style sci-fi monster films for a new era:

**********

  • Gingricha, the Two-Headed Monster - Havoc ensues in Tokyo when former U.S. Congressman Newt Gingrich is accidentally trapped in a special compartment, which is then accidentally flooded with a peculiar form of radiation, the origin of which appears to be former child star Justine Bateman. Instantly, Gingrich is mutated into a massive 400-foot tall giant, with two heads. One head, called Talkushow Gingricha, is always smiling and discussing the fortunes of GOP control of the U.S. Houses of Congress, while caustically dismissing Democrats as "pinheads." The other, Porutishian Gingricha, is predisposed to accidentally swallowing his own gigantic feet, and accidentally stepping on Tokyo. He is eventually defeated when he is eaten by a gigantic, mutated Dennis Hastert.
  • Moorethra - Whilst promoting his film Farenheit 911 and 5/6ths in the year 2023, filmmaker Michael Moore accidentally eats a radioactive cheeseburger and finds himself mutated into an even more gigantic version of himself, about 3 feet taller and 4 feet wider, only with giant moth-wings. He flies all over Tokyo, terrorizing the populace, especially all-you-can-eat restauranteurs and news cameramen, and generally blowing dust up people's noses. He is accompanied by three minature women, named the Dixie Chicks, whom he accidentally squishes after absent-mindedly putting them in his back pocket and then napping in one of those Tokyo mini-hotel rooms. He is defeated when the Tokyo Film Festival declares his film "repetitive and didactic."
  • Cruiseilla - During a promotional tour in Tokyo for his new film L. Ron Hubbard Conquers the World, Tom Cruise accidentally eats a piece of radioactive sushi and mutates into a gigantic, monstrous, Katie Holmes-pawing reptile who is rumoured to also have a creepy attraction to male Scientologists. The film ends when nobody notices the difference.
  • Gravezilla - A sequel to Cruiseilla. Whilst visiting a Mission Impossible convention (Phelps-a-palooza) in Tokyo, well-known undead actor Peter Graves accidentally eats the flesh of a gigantic mutated Tom Cruise, thinking it was just the normal, everyday Tom Cruise. He is mutated into a gigantic, ancient dinosaur with a pronounced taste for White Castle burgers, RC Cola, and cuttlefish snacks. After trashing much of Tokyo, he then settles down with Nicole Kidman and has 7 kids, all of them abnormally large C-section deliveries, and writes his memoirs "I Was A Giant Flesh-Eating Undead Lizard Who Got It On with Tom Cruise's Ex-Wife." The book is an enormous hit in Tokyo and L.A., despite the fact that it is written in Swedish. The film ends when Gravezilla is offered a contract with the New York Yankees and hits 112 home runs in one season whilst on a steady diet of creatine and minor-league scouts.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

I can't take it any more!!!!!!!

We've got to face facts folks, alliteration is not all that it's cracked up to be... I mean movies are not all they're cracked up to be. Especially in the last year, we've been subjected to some of the most boring and banal crap that the great Hollywood orifice can excrete upon us. Am I being too flowery in my speech tonight? I hope not, but it's hard to find the words to describe a X-Men: The Last Stand or Garfield: A Tale of Two Kitties without touching on the scatalogical, and that wasn't a colon joke (unless you think that's funny).

If this wasn't enough, the great crapfest auteur himself Brett "Ratso Rizzo" Ratner is about to ram another Rush Hour movie down our gullets. Rush Hour 3: Curley Tucker's Gold Toof' is going to be the story of how Chris Tucker has hit the skids and is desperate to hook up with Jackie Chan in order to make some much needed cash. After a 6 year hiatus from acting Chris will take another 4 month hiatus from acting to star in Rush Hour 3. I'm not going to elaborate any more on the movie because it would just sicken everyone and we don't want that.

What happened to the days when we could dress a hobo up in a dinosaur suit, have him trash a cardboard set of Tokyo, and pay him with tube socks and cheap booze. Those days were good enough for our parents and they should be good enough for us. Now those were movies. They had it all; rubbery alien monsters, kids in uncomfortably small shorts, and a world where atomic material was freely available to any tinhorn Japanese scientist who wanted it.



That is why I pledge to you tonight that I will work to on a new series of Japanese sci-fi masterpieces that will bring this lost art to our children and our children's children. However, I've got to do away with the shorts, they're just too unsettling.

Look out Toho, I'm going to come up with the next big Godzilla-sized thing.

Erm... Linus...

You're not going to number all your posts are you? If you are, Nuffy will want to number all his, only in increments of five (as per his "Five Times Better" philosophy (c)).

Also, I should add that I am not paying for any of the prizes being offered in Linus's contests. I had to foot the bill for Stew's "Name that Chinese Panda" contest and it cost all I had, as the prize consisted of a mention on this blog. Actually, Stew did that, so I shouldn't complain, but I did have to take up the whole issue of the name with the leather-jacketed Friends of the National Zoo, who arrogantly decided to have their own contest. They still haven't answered my e-mails, the hoodlums.

As you may have guessed, the honeymoon's over. That's what you get for tying Zimpter's posting record (2).

Two: Random Thoughts from a Genius

To begin, I don't want the title of this post to mislead you or turn you off in any way. I am of course a genius, but I'm not the arrogant kind like Stephen Hawking or 50 Cent. I'm a very humble genius. Probably the most humble on the planet. When God made me smarter than you he also blessed me with an incredible amount of humbleness...not to mention an insatiable appetite for limes. In fact, when I'm out and about (usually to buy more limes), I often introduce myself to people with stories of my unexalted humbleness. You should see their faces.

Ok, now that I've cleared that up let me share a few random thoughts. Read them, share them at home, school, the car wash, etc. I assure you they will enrich your lives forever.

1. Stop screwing up and do what God says.

2. Most overrated animal: koala

3. Most underrated animal: porcupine

4. Who wins in a fight between a koala and porcupine? Porcupine 5 out of 6 times.

5. Change name of UN Security Council to just Security Council. Of course, things aren't very safe in the world when we have a group called the "un-security" council running things. Cosmetic name change will radically bring peace within hours.

Finally, congrats to Glenn LaBoyne of Pocatello, Idaho for finding the mallard duck and winning the big contest. Glenn found the three hidden clues in my first post, triangulated the coordinates and found the duck in Montpelier VT. Glenn, his wife Vicki, and their two kids Sam and LuLu are on their way to Acapulco for 5 days and 2 nights courtesy of DOUI travel. An honorable mention to Toshiro Takahashi of Japan. He was the contestant that traveled the furthest to participate. Unfortunately all he did was mistakenly bludgeon a goose at the Charlotte zoo, but for his efforts we're sending him a pair of gift certificates to the Tokyo Applebees. Dinner on us Toshiro. Thanks for trying.

Excelsior

Habeo Tui Apologia Utilis Hic!!

Just in case you were under the impression that Mr. Coconut's arrival had distracted us from the pressing matters of the day, here is the latest on the controversy surrounding Pope Benedict XVI.

Many Muslims around the world are still angry that the Pope quoted a Mediaeval emperor who characterized Islam as "evil and inhuman", particulary the mandate to spread the Islamic faith by violence. It should be noted however, that not only did the Pope disavow the words as any representation of his own thoughts, but also, the emperor in question was a bit miffed at having been sold for ransom to Islamic leaders, and then having his city, the former Constantinople, repeatedly and violently laid seige to by Islamic forces. So, we may have caught him on a bad day, historically speaking.

The Pope's sincere statement of regret over the confusion that he himself might harbor notions that Islam is "inhuman" satisfied some in the Islamic world. Nonetheless, several less reputable Islamic "leaders" have indicated that is not enough and that Benedict XVI must apologise further. Some of the key points in the demanded apology from this troubled faction of the Islamic world have been gleaned from various statements and are compiled below:

  • The Pope must apologise profusely and completely, preferably while prostrate and fervently kissing a large picture of Saladin. He cannot kiss a picture of Mohammed, as we don't allow that sort of thing, pictures of the Prophet that is, and would have to slice his head off if he did.
  • The Pope must further apologise for offending each and every single member of the Islamic community, and must do so in person, and offer each person restitution in the neighborhood of 3,000 pounds Sterling. We know that the Pontiff has this, and even if he does not have it on hand, he can borrow it from his Zionist, moneychanging allies, the Jews, who control the world's banks, even the First National in downtown Tehran.
  • The Pope must apologise for his unusual assortment of hats, and promise to wear a turban now and again, as a show of solidarity with his Muslim brothers and sisters, although the Muslim sisters must never actually see the Pope in a turban, or come within 200 yards of him, lest the lusts of this world corrupt us all and turn our Muslim sisters on to elderly German Catholic dudes.
  • The Pope must apologise for being Catholic, as this is completely incompatible with Islam. The Pope must promise to convert the entire Catholic world to Islam. This will avoid much unneeded violence and many beheadings in the future.
  • The Pope must apologise for not attaching explosives to himself and blowing up as many Jews and Americans as possible. He must promise greater diligence in the war with the Great Satan. We understand from personal experience if he cannot fulfill this action himself. Sending out priests, nuns, monks, and highly impressionable choirboys will be eminently satisfactory, so long as great numbers of Jews and Americans are blown to tiny bits.
  • The Pope must apologise for choosing chastity as a calling. Does he not seek the 72 virgins and long for their hot embrace? He must further apologise for all this nonsense about putting God before everything, including sex. Allah understands. That's why he provided the virgins in the first place, man. The Pope must acknowledge, in a catechism, that this whole 72 virgins thing is an excellent bargain.
  • The Pope must promise to never, ever, ever say anything remotely negative about Islam ever again; things like: "Islam is not the true universal faith," or "Christ is the Saviour of all mankind," or "I really don't care for falafel and couscous, as they give me gastritis." Couscous rocks, man!
  • The Pope must apologise for suggesting that the Holocaust ever happened, and admit that he is only a stooge of prominent Jews, such as Ariel Sharon, Benjamin Netanyahu, Steven Spielberg, Jackie Mason, and Adam Sandler (whose comedies we shamefully admit we enjoy).
  • The Pope must promise to blow up St. Peter's Cathedral as a show of good faith. Only settling for blowing up the Sistine Chapel is not acceptable, although it would be a good start.
  • The Pope must stop making people kiss his ring, as that is idolatry of the worst kind and plus, it is really unsanitary. Cutting the ring finger off or blowing it up with a stick of dynamite would be the most acceptable and hygenic options.
  • The Pope must promise to give us the Popemobile. This truly awesome vehicle would hold many explosives and has a really bitching engine.

They do have a point about the ring kissing being unsantiary. I'll give them that.

Monday, September 18, 2006

One, too. D'oh

Wow!!! The (pronounced Thee) Linus Coconut has just posted on our blog. I'm not going to refresh my other browser window for at least twenty minutes now. Folks I don't know if you really appreciate what you have just seen, read, and processed in your cerebral cortex. Linus is a man of few words and even fewer line breaks, he's just that thorough. This is a man who is still reading the July 2, 2004 edition of The New York Times just in case he missed anything the first 450 times.

Where will his giant intellect take us next? Me thinks it will have nothing to do with whacking people with eels, but if it does I'm sure his take will be a breath of fresh air.

More butt kissing to come later.

One

Greetings fans. OK. I've finally succombed to the pressure to post. Stop sending the emails, letters, and postcards. You win. Your voice was loud and clear. It couldn't have been more clear if Regis Philbin miniaturized himself a la Fantastic Voyage, permeated my tympanic membrane and shouted it directly into my cochlea.
Many have asked -- Linus, why haven't you posted on the Dictionary of Unfortunate Ideas blog before? Here's why: I look around at the world - watch the nightly news, the 24 hour cable news networks, read newspapers, etc. and what do I see/hear/smell? A few dust-ups in the world - that military thing overseas, that hurricane that hit that US southern city, etc. But in the last 5 years has there really been anything newsworthy? Worth commenting on? Of course not. Sure when I saw the lack of coverage that was being given to the monumental birth of Suri Cruise, I almost posted. But even then I held back.
So why post now? I think we all know the answer to that one. If you don't, no worries. I've written it on a small index card taped to the back of a mallard duck and released him somewhere on the East Coast. Happy Hunting.
Boy time flies. Off to work on my next post. Courage!

One - Nil to the Arsenal!!!

I was sick all weekend just thinking about eels and Leopold and Loeb, then was busy all Saturday with some personal business. Sunday comes along and I'm all ready to post, except that Arsenal and Man Utd. are playing at Old Trafford AND The Dallas Cowboys and Washington Redskins are matched up as well at Texas Stadium. What's a sport fan to do?

I'm happy to report that Arsenal were triumphant, thanks to a brilliant goal by Emmanuel Adebayor (who I spent most of the match grousing about, due to his penchant for giving the ball away with over-elaborate little back heels and such... all is forgiven, mate!) and provided by plucky little Cesc Fabregas, whom the loathsome Ashley Cole had the nerve to criticise in his creepy, narcissistic autobiography. To top it all off, the goal came about directly as a result of a Cristiano Ronaldo giveaway. Lovely that.

...And Dallas scolds Washington, with some brilliant defense and workmanlike offense, the little problem of that 100 yard kickoff return for Washington notwithstanding.

So I've been completely distracted. But not for long. There's posting to be done.

Also, word from Linus Coconut. A blogging invitation has been sent. It should only be a matter of time. Stew is restless I know. He's reportedly pacing and hitting refresh on the blog every 30 seconds until the magic word "Coconut" appears on screen again.

Don't get worked up Stew. It was just me this time writing about him. Still...

Coconut! Coconut! Coconut! Coconut! Coconut! Coconut! Coconut! Coconut! Coconut! Coconut!

That ought to have him in a tissy.