Last night we celebrated Nutless Tom’s bachelor party.
It didn’t go well…
Tom had been waffling on the where and when for two months.
Finally, he told me “I want the mother of all raunchy parties.”
Figures. It’s always the Scientologists…
That’s why I asked Mike to help.
He said “I’m the master of raunch!”
I had to agree…
He booked us a table at Strippy McNudes…
So there we were: Otto, Farook from Accounting, Jack from Payroll, Goth Mark, Mike, Nutless Tom, and me at Strippy McNudes…
Farook had his arm around my neck all night and kept giggling into my ear “I’m randy, Alpo.”
Otto tried to stuff nickels and pennies down the stripper’s g-string and was almost thrown out.
Goth Mark got drunk on two beers, told me he knew that I hated his band, and spent the rest of the night calling me a “useless asshole.”
Jack from Payroll kept showing me pictures of his wife.
Mike never stopped yelling “Hoo, baby! I want to drag my nuts across your guts!”
And with every passing minute, Nutless Tom scowled even harder at me.
I started drinking… Heavily.
Later, Nutless plunked himself beside me and said “You should know, I broke up with Tracy two weeks ago. The wedding’s off.”
I said “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He said “Because you did such a crap job as best man, I figured the least you could do was throw me a decent party. But this sucks. You failed, Alpo.”
The rest is a blur.
I kind of remember Nutless Tom flat on his back on a table covered in beer, and my hands around his throat and screaming “Die! Die! Die!”
I’m pretty sure it was Mike who was yelling “Whoa! Alpo! Stop! For nerk’s sake, he’s turning blue!”
Apparently the guys eventually pulled me off Tom.
Then the police arrived…and it all went downhill from there.
And that’s how I got arrested for assaulting Nutless Tom.
First!
Hah!
Sorry…
On a more civilized note…A couple of evenings ago, I spent a most pleasant evening at the opera with my good chum, Sir Dr. Capitalist Lion Tamer III.
We had gone to see Rossini’s “Cussler in The Underworld!” It’s a thought provoking work of art in three acts. Anyway, as we waxed profane from the balcony on the subjects of Clive, Dirk, prophylactics, and my unfortunate looking aunt, (call us a modern day Statler and Waldorf), CLT happened to mention that his wife has “a brand-spanking-new photoblog.”
For those who haven’t had the pleasure of seeing it, I recommend you do. It’s really wonderful. http://tetramaster.wordpress.com/
And, of course, if you haven’t experienced Sir Lion Tamer’s blog, might I suggest you take this opportunity to do that as well. It’s more fun than a trip to the Magic Kingdom. http://capitalistliontamer.wordpress.com/
First…
dammit!
Thanks for the compliments and free advertising, Alan. That was a great night, though. I was pleased to see that the opera house had finally installed the Heckling Section we had been pestering them about since our first visit there, to see a production of “Oh! Jason!” Truly a suprising amount of nudity and inexplicable violence in that one.
It’s a shame to see Goth Mark this way. I know most goth band members hate each other, but I figured this drove them to produce darker and darker work.
If he does decide to drop the goth and go straight, the good folks down at the Church of No Return Address will help him out. They certainly did a number on Valor. I don’t think he’ll ever be the same. And consequently, neither will Christian Death incarnation #498.
Hah!
It took me a second to realize you were including me in “Mark And The Stigmatas”
Hilarity…
Yes, what a marvelous night that was. I laughed, I laughed, and I laughed.
My pleasure on the shout out: You two make for one very talented couple.
While I had never uttered the statement, “Man, can those Goths handle their liquor” I was saddened to discover “the two Goth beer limit.”
Guess they have a better tolerance for the junk.
Enter Rozz.
Or should that be “Exit Rozz”?
The poor guy. He loses ace guitarist Rick Agnew who is replaced by Valor, who subsequently steals the band’s name, takes over the singing duties and then turns them into a death metal cartoon. It’s enough to make you want to hang yourself…
Oh, right…
Double hah!
My favorite death metal cartoon is “Morbid Angel Saves Christmas.” Ironically, Christmas is saved by Mr. Claus being offered as a ritual sacrifice to Marduk, an ancient Sumerian diety.
Needless to say, it has a cult following and did jack-shit ratings-wise.
Kind of like “Oh That Jason!”
Hahaha…
Morbid Angel Saves Christmas is a classic! The disemboweling of Santa was so funny.
My favourite death metal cartoon was Crucifixion Zanies Save Easter. The artwork on the stigmata’s was so detailed. You could see every pulsating doggy paw vein.
Of course, I’ll never forget when the Goths came to town in “Oh, That Jason”
Boy, did they get beaten up and sodomized!
As Jason explained, “because that’s what we do with people we don’t understand. Now move quickly, we have a school shooting that needs a scapegoat.”
Thank goodness you’re here, Alan. I was actually trying to write something for tomorrow’s Tamer. It involves TGIF vampires, underage lead singers who champion home taping, bulimia, the Windy City’s bus system and the amazing question of what the hell a Rolling Stones guitarist, a Guyana tragedy, and some pop fops with an affinity for Campbell’s Soup cans has to do with each other.
Hahaha!
Now that’s a mystery…
Does it have anything to do with the band “Styx”?
No. Not this time. But a solid guess.
I will now do the robot dance thanks to the song now running through my head.
Excuse me for a moment…
“Not this time”
Hahahahahaha!
Hey, did you know that when I think of Lorelei my head turns all around? (Insert Exorcist joke here)
It’s true. She’s as gentle as a butterfly… Oh, and she moves without a sound.
So, anyway, I call her on the telephone, she says be there by eight. Tonight’s the night she’s moving in and I can hardly wait!
Just saying…
My robot dance also involves my head turning all the way around.
Hey, wait a minute! There’s already an Exorcist joke inserted here! And it clearly states: One Exorcist joke per thread.
When it’s turning, I certainly hope you are shouting, “Your mother sucks cocks in Hell, Karras, you faithless slime.”
Oh!
Right.
The one joke limit.
My bad.
Still. Always a fun line to write.
Father Karras used at parties for years to come.
I know.
It was sad.
But it was also kind of funny.
Heh! Him stumbling and staggering about!
He tripped over more couches than Dick Van Dyke.
I’ll give you (and by you, I of course mean you and everyone else in here) a sneak peek at tomorrow’s post.
It contains a very subtle joke that would probably be skimmed over while reading the whole post, but will stand out as a clear highlight in this excerpt.
***SPOILER ALERT*****
(Do you still want to see it?)
Do I want to see it???
Does my mother su…
(No, that’s too much. Even for me.)
YES!
Of course, I do!
I hate to see you censor yourself. Especially in matter pertaining to your promiscuous mother.
Here it is, in all its very brief glory:
Being the “worst band in rock and roll” took a heavy toll on the band and extensive touring often found various members on the disabled list and Peter “Et” Cetera scouting the local talent for a replacement “5th Trombonist” or “Backup Vocalist #8 – Verbs Only.”
Hah!
Ah.
All the pieces fall into place.
I’d forgotten about them.
It’s very glorious and it keeps on being so. The more I think about it, hah, the more I laugh.
Can’t wait to read the rest.
To be rather blunt about it: You so rock!
What a night. Styx and Chicago!
What a fucking double bill.
Hahahahahahaha!
Many thanks, Alan. Be prepared though, it seems to be epic in length. I think I chose some pretty hefty foes to battle in the rock n fuckin roll arena.
I, of course, am armed only with my wits and my .50 Desert Eagle. I say – bring. it. on.
No one does epic like you, my friend…
I am so looking forward to it!
I’ll see your Double hah!, and raise you a guffaw.
Sorry. I haven’t got that on me. I went all in with my Double Hah!
I can lend you a guffaw. But before I do… Over to you Carrie.
Carrie: Thanks Alpo, over to you Nobbly…
Silence. Back to an uncomfortable Carrie.
Carrie: Over to you, Jack!!!
TO: Jack snorting a line with a hooker.
Jack: Wha? Oh, back to you, Alpo.
Alan: Thanks, Carries and Jack. So, Professor, CLT. Thoughts on online gambling?
CLT: You like Semisonic????????????
Alan: Hahaha! Nerk! Nump! Merkin! Well, that’s all the time we have today…
Alan looks nervous. He indicates for closing music. Music Up. “Semisonic: Closing Time.” Alpo laughs nervously. CLT shakes his head sadly…
IRIS OUT.
Awesome! Simply awesome!
Captured backstage:
CLT: Really. Closing Time. Did they not have anything more cliched to play? I would have preferred those blonde pinheads from “The Sound of Music” singing their goddamn way off to bed.
Alpo: It’s not like that. I have a wide variety of musical tastes. I once saw Can open for Neu!, who were double-billed with Diamanda Galas and a pre-pubescent Fantomas!
I once watched a grown man heckle Robyn Hitchcock and Raffi on back-to-back nights!
I once typed an entire paragraph without using a single accent mark!
Don’t question my credibility!
Later at the Rave:
CLT: (yelling into Alpo’s ear over the music) It’s just that Closing Time is so on the nose!
Alan: Yeah, man! Let’s get more drunk!!! Wahoo!!!
CLT: (yelling into Alpo’s ear over the music) No! Listen! What I’m saying is that you need unique sign off music. What about Art Brut’s “Modern Art” or “Jesus for the Jugular” by The Veils?
Alan: (puts his arm around CLT) Look at these chicks, I’m randy, CLT!
CLT: Jesus Christ! What’s with the exclamation marks?
Alan: Fucking Ada!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CLT: Oh, man… Over to you, Carrie.
TO: Stunned Carrie having sex with Jack
Carrie: Over to you Jack!!!!!!!!!!
Jack: Over to you Carrie!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Carrie: Over to you Jack!!!!!!!!!!
Jack: Over to you Carrie!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Carrie: Over to you Jack!!!!!!!!!!
Jack: Over to you Carrie!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FADE OUT…
Beautifully played. I have resumed my riotous and worrying laughter. Exclamation points, Jack Fucking Carrie… it has it all.
FADE OUT
And, from writing “Oh Bondage Up Yours”
to this…
So… like completely the reverse of Ministry?
Who went from “With Sympathy” to “The Land of Rape and Honey.”
Yes! (the following exclamation mark was required!!!)
It’s hard to imagine. Their excuse for the keyboard schmaltz was Record Label pressure. (A good excuse.)
And, hah, okay… I have a copy of Ministry’s “Work for Love”
Hahahaha…
Did you know that Al Jourgensen used to sacrifice a live chicken on the mixing board before he began recording his latest LP?
Work for Love, indeed…
That’s alright. I have a copy of their “12 Inch Singles.”
“Twitch” must be when the sacrificial chickens began. Specifically on the last track “Where You At Now/Crash and Burn.” Brutal.
Oh yeah.
I remember when I first saw the “Over The Shoulder” video…
It was Ministry, and I kept thinking it had to be some other Ministry band…
Talk aout a total 180.
“So Al said, ‘Let’s get this whole selling out thing out of the way immediately. And then we can start sacrificing chickens, or Plan B.'”
Err…excuse me…sorry for butting in, but I gather that you chaps like music.
Tell me, have either of you heard the rumour going round that Michael Jackson may be a bit poorly?
That would be a bit sad – don’t you think that he’s simply wonderful?
He’s dead?????
No, I’m sure that’s not right.
I see him all the time. He works at The Burger King just down the road from me.
(Neat bit of trivia: His old sidekick “Bubbles” does my income tax.)
Oh man, sounds like a rough night. But hey! Thank goodness the wedding’s off, huh?
It was only a matter of time before you started assaulting Nutless Tom. I’m surprised it took you so long.
Thanks Shannon,
I’ve learned something: copious amounts of alcohol really loosens me up and gets me in a nice relaxed “strangle a co-worker mood.”
I’m told by the guys that I appeared to be having fun and that there was a “maniacal grin” plastered across my face as the chocking went down.
Yes, good times strangling Nutless Tom – and I’ll never remember them.
Shame about that…
I’ve heard of a salted nut, but “assaulted nutless” sounds like an airline menu for allergics!
😆
Hahahaha…
Love it.
You’re quite brilliant at the wordplay, Stu!
Something to remember the next time I’m flying. 😉
Too funny! I just got a letter from Clark. He’s learning how to fly. And not having much luck I might add!
http://home.egge.net/~savory/blog_aug_09.htm
Well, that sounded fun. “assaulted nutless” ahah, thats a good one. But it’s horrible that you assaulted tom so early, you should have waited til after Mike rubbed hit nuts across a girl’s gut. You might be able to learn a thing or two about romance…
Ha! Well, I can always buy a book. I believe noted sex therapist Dr. Riff Status wrote “How To Meet Women By Dragging Your Nuts Across Their Guts”
In fact, if I recall correctly, I think have a copy. Hang on a second, would you please, sensico?
( soft core electric wah-wah guitar effect plays )
Okay, sorry about the delay…
Here it is. Chapter 3 of “How To Meet Women By Dragging Your Nuts Across Their Guts”
“When dragging your nuts across her guts, it is imperative to remember to play romantic music, stuff dollar bills wherever you can, quote poetry from Byron, control your spunky feelings and compliment her hair. I suggest you tell her that you admire how clean it is…”
Hmm….
I dunno.
Not really my style this nut drag thing.
I think I’ll settle for stammering like an idiot and barking out words like “Nerk!” and “Nump!
What can I say?
I’m a romantic at heart.
😉
You got arrested?? For assaulting Tom? Wow. I suddenly admire you a lot.
But, then again… You’ve always admired me a lot… Isn’t that right, spamwarrior?
…spamwarrior?
…spamwarrior?
…Where’d you go…?
😉
eh hehehehe…. that’s right, I did, didn’t I? hehehehe…
Hmmmm….
I can’t help but feel that you’re toying with me again… Am I right, spamwarrior…?
…spamwarrior?
…spamwarrior?
…Where’d you go…?
😉
A ‘useless asshole?’ What has brought you to such a lowly state?
Hamish Industries?
Co-workers?
Being cubicled?
Farook?
CLT?
What’s needed?
Dude, ROAD TRIP!!!
Ha!
It would appear that Goth Mark had as much pent up rage as I did. But he got to the “rage zone” first because, well, he can only handle two beers.
On the upside, he didn’t do any strangling – and maybe he’ll stop pestering me about his band.
As for me, I can drink much, much more than a Goth. So it takes me longer to get to that belligerent zone.
On the downside – it would seem I tend to strangle people and then get arrested.
Road trip?
Damn right!
You, me, the lion tamer and the old man from Don Mills. (Mostly because the old dude is a chick magnet.)
I can push the luggae trolley for you, down hill only but I’m prepared to give it a go, and my medicalpsychtiatric background may prove useful?
El Pres Dave aka god
😆
The moniker “president god” really has a delightful ring to it!
There’s something wonderfully omnisciently pithy about it.
Welcome aboard ele presidente god! 🙂
Don’s chick magnetism is mainly due to the large amount of metal replacement parts in both places.
Really? Then it’s settled. First thing tomorrow morning, I’m getting a metal plate surgically implanted into my forehead. So long grey matter – hello chicks!
Careful, they’ll tell you they love you for your brain. You’ll be unable to detect the lie.
Good point! I’ll make sure I have a lie detector attached to my testicles.
Yeah, I’ve thought this through…
Make sure it operates in binary. And make sure you only get hit on by chicks who can read binary.
I’ve thought this through as well.
I have a good feeling about this.
The lie detector on Alan’s testicles indicates no significant changes on the graph (FYI: the graph is attached to his ass) thus indicating his statement is true.
Oh, yeah!
You’ll always have a good feeling, what with all that vibrating and humming equipment attached and inserted to various areas of your lower body.
Yup, life is good.
The lie detector on Alan’s testicles indicates no significant changes on the graph (FYI: the graph is attached to his ass) thus indicating his statement is true.
Hey baby…
wanna check out my lie detector?
Hook me up baby, to your lie detector…
I see your Lie Detector and raise you a… Lie Detector! [musical sting!]
Yah! (Oooh, sweet exclamation mark!!)
Nice.
I went looking for “I Wanna Be A Flintstone”
And found this.
I hadn’t heard it in ages.
She’s great. And a fabulous target. (hint, hint) According to Mr. Lydon in “No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish” he just hates her.
Beavis & Butthead loved her. Or mocked her. I can’t remember exactly.
I see your hint. And I would raise you except that someone keeps clearing their throat conspicuously while elbowing me in the ribs and stomping on my foot under the table.
Siouxsie, Classix Nouveaux, X-Ray Spex, (lot of x’s there)
Visage…
All grist for your comic mill.
At a later date…
Oh, will the requests never stop?
Over you to Nobbly!
Silence.
Nobbly?? Nobbly??!!!
NOOBBBLYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!
And that’s how I got arrested for assaulting Nutless Tom.
…who deserved it…like nobody’s bidness…
Thanks Kali!
When I told the cops my story, they said they felt the same way.
And then they took my fingerprints and mug shots.
(PS. Good thing I wasn’t carrying a gun!) 😉
http://livewrongandprosper.com/post/152371977/would-you-carry-a-gun-safety-off-on-your-person
Hey Alan!
Sorry I haven’t commented in a while it’s not that your posts have been crap (honest!) I’ve just been busy, but I’ve been here, lingering in the shadows like I imagine Goth Mark does in the mailroom?
Hey, speaking of Goth Mark, maybe he’ll write a song about these events now? One thing’s for certain, Nutless Tom will definitely not ask you to be his best man again, I predict Mike could deliver a killer speech, “…and with that said, let’s raise a glass to the mother of all El Dumpo Supremo’s, Mark!”
p.s. be sure to wish Oleg happy sys admin day! Cakes are normally a good start….
http://www.sysadminday.com
Hey, me (heh!)
It’s always great to see you (by you, you know who I mean). Mark does linger in the mailroom. He also skulks, scuttles, loiters and slinks.
He’s a very diverse Goth.
He’s already penned a ditty and sent it to me via the joys of email. Isn’t he considerate? The song’s called “Useless Asshole”
Check it out…
Useless Asshole
Stigmata bleed profusely scar
Run you over with my car
Cut off your arms and your head
Stomp on your ashes until you are dead
Hang you from a burning cross
Teach you asshole, who is boss
Watch your bones bleach ‘til they’re dry
Useless asshole – want you to die!
Useless Asshole – You make us ill
Useless Asshole – Swine in a mill
Useless Asshole – In the boiling sea
Useless Asshole – You’re dead to me
I feel so honoured. And terrified.
And I will be sure to wish Oleg and me a System Administrator Appreciation Day
Now, I’m off to buy a cake. (Maybe I’ll get one with a file in it!)
😉
Nice to see you, me!
THE CAKE IS A LIE
Hah!
Riot.
What flavour would you like your lie to be…? 😉
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_cakes
(I’m a fan of Devil’s Food lie, myself!)
I’m still laughing at Eunoia’s comment
Me too!
😉
Too rich! I just got a letter from Clark. He’s learning how to fly. And not having much luck I might add!
http://home.egge.net/~savory/blog_aug_09.htm
Is no one here sad for Nutless Tom? not for the obvious, though his nutless condition is tragic.. but, he lost his bride to be? How sad! Poor thing.
Alan: who bailed you out of jail? How’d you get back? Details please…..
Hey delicate flower,
Weep not for the Nutless Tom
His balls are intact and not long gone
There ‘twas no neutering done on the poor thing
He is Nutless because of peanuts and the death they might bring
Should he eat them, he will go into anaphylactic shock
And if no EpiPen is available, then so runs out his clock
The details of my bail are all rather sad
I had to call my mom and my dad
And say to them, “well, I’m jail, yes me, you’re only son”
To which they said, “we knew this day would one day come.”
You got ARRESTED …. that is just such a shitting hot cool thing to do! Wow, that is so impressive! Another thing to put on your resume!
P.S. I need to know what sort of sentence/penalty you get …. I have a co-worker that I desperately need to assault!
Hah!
Thanks Julie.
Ah, the positive spin of mug shots, fingerprints and a night in a holding call. I’ve impressed a babe of your magnitude.
It was all worth it! 😉
I don’t know what the outcome will be yet. I’ve been charged with assault with a g-string (it turns out that was what I was chocking him with), and will meet with my lawyer later next week. A preliminary trial date has been set, but I’ve been told this could drag out for a while. Word is I could end up getting jail time (I’m hoping I can share a cell with Ram), but since this is my first charge, my lawyer is confident that I’ll get off with probation.
I’d hate to see you end up in the same situation. And if you need any help in this area, please let me know if you’d like me to visit and see what I can do.
Your pal,
Al
What, no cheek lining scrape for DNA database?
Haha!
That’s more of a UK thing, I believe.
(But don’t quote me on that — or anything else I might say in these threads, for that matter.)
😉
Wow. This isn’t good.
I guess it’s pretty obvious that both Nutless Tom and Goth Mark have some severe Anger Management issues here, Alan. But you can’t let their problems affect you, you’re way too good for that.
I must say that I’m relieved you didn’t wake up with a tube of Pringles attached to your arm. Ha! If only I were lucky enough to get arrested during my nights out…maybe then I wouldn’t have to spend the following week busting my ass to get rid of the “sodium bloat”.
I do have one piece of advice for you, though. While in the slammer, stay as far away from possible from those guys on “death row”…I know firsthand that they’re not playing with a full deck.
There used to be a website you could go to that would list the final meal requests of these perps, and it was not pretty. For example, there was one guy who asked for a bologna sandwich and a juice box, and another who just wanted Hawaiian punch and a pack of smokes.
I mean, come on, are you freaking kidding me??? You can have anything you want and you ask for Hawaiian punch? That’s sick!
Personally, if it were me I would ask for a big bucket of KFC (white-meat only), curly fries, one of those McCain’s deep and delicious cakes (the ones you get in your grocer’s freezer section) and a huge-ass tub of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice-cream. Oh, and a glass of Tang (vitamin C).
I mean, let’s face it. If there’s one time in your life when you don’t need to be counting calories, it’s on your deathbed!
Where was I? Oh right. So yeah, just stay away from them and you should be fine.
Ps. Let me know if you need a pen pal…
Hahaha!
You would be such an awesome pen pal. We could write each other Petrarchan sonnets about Pringles, Raffi, Cameltoe, sodium bloat, last meals, book mobiles, the Sears’ Catalogue…
Really, the list is endless.
(Please excuse the flawed meter. Bad Petrarchan meter is my shtick.
I find no peace, and my arm is in a can of Pringles,
my catalogue old, my sodium bloat tragic
as Raffi plays, my shattered delight no longer tingles,
and my cameltoe, once noble, is now so tragic.
My jailer opens not, nor locks the door,
my prison cellmate goes by the name of Ram;
My last meal shall be baked beans and a s’more,
Ram asks to play “wham bam thank you ma’am.”
With me in the role, of the fair lass;
I long to perish, and I beg for aid;
I fear for the safety of my ass.
Weeping I laugh, hey, it’s what I do,
To be perfectly frank. I’m pretty dismayed:
You would cry too if it happened to you to
Are you for real?? I love Petrarchan sonnets too!!!
My friends are always like, “Bschooled, why are you so addicted to those things?” And I say, “Are you kidding me? You’ve obviously never had an Italian one…”
Dee-lish!
Great limerick, by the way.
I knew right from the start that not only were you a guy who feared for the safety of your ass, you were someone who laughed weepingly. You just have that way about you.
Looks like both bad petrarchan meter and ass fearing while guffawing sadly are your shticks…
Blessed indeed.
Hahaha!
OMG! In University I was known as “the laughing weeper” It was, so, totally excellent.
I even have a bad Petrarchan sonnet about my University “daze” Ahhh! Totally cool!
Oh my god, like I am so totally wasted,
Like, you know, completely bloated on sodium
And whoa! All the drugs and booze that I’ve tasted
It’s just like, it’s just like, I mean, whoa! Man!
My dorm room door is like totally broken,
And oh my God, last night is a total blur;
And, I can’t like remember the last coherent word I’ve spoken,
But I think it was bong related fer sure
I’m always stumbling and falling on my ass;
I long to perish, this bogus situation;
I’m taking classes but I won’t pass.
I just don’t get this higher education,
To be perfectly frank, I’ve stopped going to class:
But instead remain in a state of stupefaction
What are you talking about Pringles on the arm??
I would ask for Chinese Food…from China. That would buy me a couple extra days for the governor to find the number to the warden.
Pringles on the arm is a tragic affliction that plagues the poor souls suffering from post-Stampede Festivitis.
Please give generously.
http://justmakingconvo.com/2009/07/10/lets-play-a-game/#comments
Please Bearman. Do it for our Country
(cue Grease Grease 2 music)
“Yeah, just do it for our country, the red, white, and the blue
It’s Alan who is asking, so your mother will approve
Tomorrow Alpo’s fighting, and he’ll win this war for you
Just do it for our country, our country wants you to
Pringles cans are calling, they’ll soon be on your arms
Save some for the others ‘cuzyou never did before
Yeah, just do it for our country, the red, white, and the blue
If Nutless Tom were standin’ here, I’m sure he would approve
You’ll be a mighty soldier before this night is through
Just do it for our country, our country wants you to
(Spoken)
Just think about it — it would be like as if you guys were doing it for the Statue of Liberty, or the Grand Canyon, or the New York Yankees… it would be like as if you were doing it for… Disneyland!”
Wow…
If the bearman doesn’t say yes to that beautuflly sung heartfelt plea then his heart is made of stone. And that final pitch at the end… It, it… Disneyland… And… I… Oh, god, I told myself I wouldn’t cry again!
(Excuse me, I need to wipe away my tears.)
That was beautiful.
God bless you, young bschooled!
As long as we have brave voices like yours then one day soon we will eradicate Pringles on the arm.
It sounded better when I did it on Youtube
It’s more realistic when you can hear the Russians attacking in the background
🙂
“It’s more realistic when you can hear the Russians attacking in the background”
Most everything is, I’m told.
I use to own a nurse’s uniform. But then those pesky Czechoslovakians invaded Canada and I had to wear it to seduce a young virginal Wayne Gretzky in a bomb shelter in Northern Ontario.
Things were different back then
And how!
All of this could have been avoided had you settled for quality family fun at TGIF.
I can’t believe they broke up after all your hard work familiarizing yourself with the peculiar social customs, practices, and hierarchy of Scientology. Although I’d suggest a little more engram clearing if you are still choking your business peers into unconsciousness. Maybe I should call Kirsty to bail you out and give you a refresher course!
I thought “I want to drag my nuts across your guts” was a new Eminem song. Either way it has a nice, pleasant ring.
Otto needs to adopt the Al Bundy dollar on a fishing line strip club trick. Then you don’t have to pay the poor struggling student anything at all! I say let them earn their money the way I did; selling pot and placing in World Series of Poker events!
Scott,
As always, your comments inspire and delight. I wish I had more time to give them the response they truly merit, but things have taken a bit of a dire turn. (And let’s be honest, I’m in this mess, thanks to you! 😉 )
EXCLUSIVE: GETTING INSIDE THE CHURCH OF SCIENTOLOGY
Part V of Alan Truitt’s story of going undercover inside the spaced out world of The Church of Scientology.
I am dragged out of my box and forced to do more “auditing.” I complain that it’s kind of impossible to have a conversation with a box that also now serves as my new home. When I joke that I’m thinking about adding a second floor and a rumpus room, I am blasted with a cattle prod.
My supervisor, and new best friend, Gorgon 29, isn’t happy with my progress and believes that humour is a failing of “weak deviants.” He keeps muttering something about my “misguided sexuality” and how it isn’t a “good indication.”
When I start crying and laughing at the same because of lack of food and sleep, Gorgon 29 perks up and tells me I am ready to be sent out with some Volunteer Ministers for the day. Quickly, I’m taught how to do a nerve “assist” a touch assist and a location assist – three methods of relieving stress and pain.
These assist apparently achieve calm by allowing “communication waves” to reconnect between the thetan and mind.
Then, to make me “feel better and more secure” I am given a “Scientology Eye.” This involves inserting a small tracking chip up my nose, behind my ear and on the small of my back. I don’t feel and better or more secure in any way and when I say as much, I am given a mild flogging.
I am then stripped of my “old identity” put in a white smock with a purple star on the right lapel and told my name is “Drone 1235a.” When I object, I am given more drugs. After a while I come around and have to agree, it’s a very nice name.
That taken care of, I’m on my way to the streets of Clearwater with three other VMs – a withered old woman from Lithuania, a circus freak named “Drone 1236x” and a Frenchman who constantly refers to us a “pigs.”
We are told we are going to set up “near where all the rich infidels and ignorant heathens are.” Within no time we have attracted all kinds of interest. People walk by and mutter: “It’s the aliens” and “Scientology freaks.” Someone throws a burrito at me.
We are encouraged to offer “people-assists.” Once we get them listening, our aim is to take a name, address and phone number. For the next few hours I will discover the joys of getting verbally abused and spit upon by strangers.
We are given booklets to offer for a “suggested donation” of $25. We are not to say they are for sale. We provide assists to about 10 people and hand out several hundred leaflets. A poor fellow by the name of Jerome asks if we know Tom Cruise. The Frenchman says we do, and Jerome asks if he can join us. The Frenchman smiles and whispers, “I will get an extra animal cracker for bringing him back to the compound. Sacre bleu, I am one happy Scientologist!”
TOMORROW: THE FRENCHMAN IS DENIED HIS ANIMAL CRACKER AND HANGS HIMSELF. PLUS, OTHER STUFF…
A tracking clip that goes up your nose, then behind your ear and thence to the small of your back requires one hell of a long guide cable and very strong fingers.
They’re a very creative and muscular group of fiends.
😉
What can I say guy, great work!! Keep it coming. The book deal bonus was $50K, but get this; the universal bonus was $750K!! Daddy just got a new pair of BMW’s! We are golden Pony Boy…Golden!! All you have to do my friend is just keep up the good work. Some thoughts…
Play along a little better. Talk to the box, and chillax with the humor. Get further in.
Learn everything you can about these ‘assists.’ This is the stuff people are going to pay to hear about!
Objection=drugs. Good thing, no? Drugs are good.
I don’t get why you’re complaining about the burrito. Free food. You were just complaining about no food, now you’re complaining about free food. You gotta start focusing on the positive man! Soldier UP!
If you have to get names, addresses and phone #’s I can help with that, I used to live there. Just tell everyone that you are trying to get a bill passed to euthanize the homeless and sterilize the poor. They will sign and come back with 10 friends to sign. All those signatures should start your meteoric (Get it? haha) rise in the Scientologist circle!
Je sacre par deiu!
I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I just did lunch with Tommy and Will. Fabulous people! Maybe if you survive I’ll introduce you! Just don’t touch them. Anywho, I hope you are doing as fanfuckingtabulous as I am!! I can’t wait until your next report. Don’t hang yourself over an animal cracker or anything! You really do attract unstable people Alan! Really, wise up; what the hell is wrong with you?
Scott…
Thank you for indulging me.
I wasn’t sure what the hell was wrong with me until I found Scientology. Now I know what’s wrong with me. It’s Scientology…
Part the Final of Alan Truitt’s story of going undercover inside the spaced out world of The Church of Scientology.
My box flaps are opened and the light cuts into my eyes. I’ve slept no more than an hour. It’s another day at the Scientology compound.
Before I can beg for some food, I’m whisked into a room and introduced to “Dix 6.” He is an experienced auditor and will put me through the process to see how I react.
I joke about “audits” and not having anything left to claim except for my dwindling sanity. He curls his lip and writes this down.
Dix 6 then reassures me that what happens won’t harm me in any way. But when I see that he is wearing brass knuckles, I just don’t feel all that confident. I tell him I am vulnerable and confused.
He remarks that things are going “according to plan.”
I close my eyes as he asks me to regress to a negative incident in my life. I tell him about the time I discovered Scientology a few days ago. He asks me if I would like to be sent back to my box. I assure him I wouldn’t.
Dix then encourages me to visualize everything around me and put myself back in space and time.
Scientologists believe this will “clear the engram” and I will have no more of the negative memories.
Afterwards I feel no better. I’m still here.
That’s when the door to the room opens and who should enter but his Satanic Majesty himself… Tommy Cruiser!
Cruise sits down beside me and fondles my leg. He orders Dix 6 to, “Go – now!”
Once Dix has gone, Tom tells me to relax. He tells me all will be fine. He tells me he likes to wear women’s underwear. I ask, “what?”
He says, “Nothing. Shut up.”
He then performs a one-man show about Scientology. He starts off by playing the role of founder, sci-fi writer, and all round creep, L Ron Hubbard. He reenacts using LSD in government experiments. He then changes costumes and gets all pissy because I didn’t applaud the opening scene.
He is now dressed as an alien named Xenu. To be honest, I’ve seen better costumes on old Star Trek episodes and I can’t stop myself from laughing out loud.
Tom scowls and then goes into a rambling monologue about how it is 75 million years ago, and that he (Xenu) rules more than 76 planets, including Earth (known as Teegeeack). He tries to solve a population problem by blowing up beings on Teegeeack. Their souls, he tells me in a squeaky alien voice, are taken to a “cinema”, where they are forced to watch a “3-D, super-colossal motion picture” for 36 days that implanted a “false reality” to control them. These souls then possess the humans.
He then does some unintentionally hilarious interpretive dance representing the possessing of the human souls as he makes all kinds of explosion noises with his lips pressed together.
When it’s all over he then bows majestically.
As he bends over, he accidentally farts. Talk about the capper.
“Tom, no offense buddy,” I say when asked to review, “but what a pile of crap. You Scientologists say your aim is to help people become ‘clear’ and then you give me this story about aliens and super colossal motion pictures. How is that clear? This is just a cult concerned with making money. You know it and I know it. And you shell out big time so they’ll keep you nice and… what…?”
Well, he gets pretty huffy, I can tell you that.
And, luckily for me, he banishes me from the compound.
“You glib moron,” he says, all hurt and teary-eyed, “you know nothing. And when the aliens make me their silver-headed god, then you’ll pay. Oh man. Oh baby. Now go! Leave Clearwater. You are not Clearwater material. You failed, Alpo. This indoctrination is over.”
The rest is a blur.
I kind of remember Tom flat on his back on a desk covered in paper, and my hands around his throat and screaming “Die! Die! Die!”
I’m pretty sure it was his secretary who was yelling “Whoa! Drone Truitt! Stop! For nerk’s sake, he’s turning blue!”
Apparently the Scientology henchmen eventually pulled me off Tom.
Then the police arrived…and it all went downhill from there.
And that’s how I got arrested for assaulting Tom Cruise.
Wow, that was an utterly amazing, enthralling story. Loved it! One tiny bit of bad news though. You have to die. I was thinking in a “The Departed” kind of way. You have to go back and perform a citizen’s arrest on Tom. Then just when you are leaving the office of Scientology you see Nutless Tom. He’s all like “good job buddy, yay, you saved the day” and whatnot. Then surprisingly he pulls out a gun and blows your head off.
And I mean this has to happen in real life. Sorry. I’ve talked to Joe Pistone, Tom Cruise, Will Smith, Nutless Tom, Kirsty Alley, Dix 6, Henry Hill, Sam Rothstein, Sammy the Bull, the Gipper, Lou Gehrig, and Apollo Creed. Some of them lived in their movies and some of them died. They ALL said if we want to sell tickets….you gotta die. Don’t worry I took all the stress off of you and set the whole thing up. Nutless Tom has the gun. Cruise is waiting at the Clearwater office. It’s all a go!
Really phenomenal story!! I’m seriously impressed. You have big time, major league talent. You deserve to go out like a god damned hero!! I’ll make sure you get that posthumous Pulitzer!
Many thanks, Scott!
I’d prefer to live. That way we can have these friendly chats and I can think of devious ways to get you locked in with the Hare Krishna.
Once again, thanks for the inspiration. If you hadn’t abandoned me in Clearwater and left me at the mercy of these evil monsters who stole all my money and humiliated me, I’d…
Sorry, where am I going with this?
😉
Cheers!
Alan
It was my pleasure!! Well if you insist on living then I guess at the very least we have a CBS mini-series or even an afterschool special. I already spent all of the bonus money on celebrity Lovejuice, TGIF, his and hers BMW’s, wooing Tom Cruise, and feeding Kirsty Alley anyway. What are they gonna do, sue me? HA. I mean they can’t get blood from a stone. I’ve incorporated Lovejuice so they can’t touch that once the profits are rolling in. You have a 50% interest you know! So we’re still good. Are we still good? No hard feelings?
Great job man, impressive!
Hah! I like the afterschool special route.
“The Scientologist Boy Who Drank Too Much”
We’re still good! Oh, and the Krishna are on their way.
PS. Dude, you can get Blood from a Stone!
Blood From A Stone
INT. LABORATORY — DAY
Doctors Nadler and Fielding standing behind a table filled with beakers and other scientific paraphernalia.
DR. FIELDING: I got your message Doctor Nadler, you said you’ve made a breakthrough in your research.
DR. NADLER: Yes. It all became clear this morning Doctor Fielding… It was so simple. All I needed was to really see it.
DR. FIELDING: Congratulations, Ian. Tell me about it.
DR. NADLER: It’s revolutionary. At long last my years of work has borne fruit. It was all in my methodology. By simply reversing my analytical bias I was able to isolate the problem and systematically dissect it.
DR. FIELDING: Which experiment is it Ian, the infinite time equation?
DR. NADLER: No, no, something new. Tell me Doctor, are you familiar with the aphorism, ‘You can’t get blood from a stone?’
DR. FIELDING: Indeed I am but…
Dr. Nadler grabs a rock from the table and smacks Dr. Fielding over the head with it. Blood gushes everywhere.
DR. NADLER: Well I’ve done it. Eureka! At long last. All those years of research… I’ve done it… Blood from a stone!
Ah yes indeed, a variation on the work that Schrödinger has done with the cat! Very impressive. It is all in the perception of the stone and the blood! You eliminate even the need for a control group when you perceive the stone as drawing forth the blood.
My God this changes everything, it’s revolutionary! Now we are going to have to conduct experiments on the camel with the straw, the biting of the bullet, the fly and the ointment, the monkey with the wrench, and the man and the island. We must get straight to work!! Amazing!
I’m on my way to Spain!
I’ll bring an extra lab coat.
🙂
Watch out for the Krishna!
Alan,
So, the, “Gentlemen,” Otto, Farook, Jack, Goth Mark, Mike, Nutless Tom, and you gathered at the sleaziest place you could find, “Strippy McNudes,” and things got out of hand – imagine that! The mere name of that establishment should have been you first clue there!
Then, one of the Nutless gang, “Tom” having a way too much to drink, became upset with YOU, who also was also a way over your alcohol limit – Hummmmm. imagine that!
You know what? I believe he was right.
“He said, ‘Because you did such a crap job as best man, I figured the least you could do was throw me a decent party. But this sucks. You failed, Alpo.’”
Finally, “You got arrested for assaulting Nutless Tom.” My God, Alan, you couldn’t even do THAT correctly!! Yes, I can imagine that!!
Had you actually killed him off in a drunken rage, you would have been relieved of the unwanted obligation of serving as his, “Best Man,” and become an office hero to boot! I am SURE that Mildred’s lawyer could have gotten you off legally, and everyone would have lived happily thereafter. But NOOOOOO!
This is what happens when you take high-school mentality men into territory that is a way too sophisticated for then! I am truly ashamed of you, Alan.
Today, you do deserve this dress-down.
Your faithful reader, even though you have misbehaved big time here!!!
Sally P 😦
Ah, Sally P
To be honest, after last night, I’ve seen enough “dressing down” to last me a lifetime.
😉
Once again, I couldn’t help but snort my morning coffee through my nose at your misfortune. Sorry.
Hey Andi!
No apology necessary. Your comment is music to my ears!
Thanks!
Alan
🙂
Me, too. Except with cocaine. And in the men’s restroom.
I think I caught a glimpse of Robert Downey, Jr.
Hahaha! You know how to start the day off right!
Me, I do this thing with a spoon and a lighter.
Did Robert Downey Jr. catch a glimpse of you? If so, I hope you shared. I miss reading about him in The National Enquirer.
Just of the top of my head.
You see, he was peering over the stall wall as I lowered my head to hoover up a nice fat rail off the toilet paper dispenser.
Something was said about “blow” and “exchange” and “all out at the moment” but the blare of the hand dryer cut out all of the key parts of his question.
Good news!
He just walked in my front door. God, is he wrecked!
I’ll see if he can remember what it was he said.
Right now, he’s very insistent that I get him clams and whiskey.
I can’t believe no one else picked up on that randy comment from Farook….you should have punched him as well, while you were at it!! Dude, you work with a bunch of WEIRDOS!!
Hah!
It’s true. I do. Hence the “weirdo coworkers” tags. 😉
Damn right on Farook.
Here’s the thing, having him whisper, “I’m randy, Alpo” into my ear was actually even creepier than it sounds.
“Randy??? And I’ve been calling you ‘Farook’ all this time??!?”
I thought ‘Farook” was what the kids were calling it!
Is my face pale. (See above spoon and lighter joke.)
Hahaha!
Only if you’re getting some of that fine Turkish black tar heroin.
I’m sure Farook is not Turkish but as we learned from our TSA videos, it all looks like “terrorist” in that part of the world.
I only shop at “Big Badr’s Fine Turkish Black Tar Heroin Discount Warehouse And Emporium.”
You know, back when I used to date (many many moons ago) one of my first date questions was, “Have you ever spent a night in jail?”
Without exception, I got the best stories from these guys. I wasn’t interested in finding out if they had a record, that was beside the point. There were just always such great stories. Sounds like you got a great story now too, sparky!
Some day I will tell you the story of how I almost got into a fist fight with a guy in a strip club. Not pretty.
The best line EVER for Goth Mike, “I wanna drag my nuts across your guts!” How long before that is on a line of t-shirts?
Hah!
Love it. It sure beats, “So, what do you do for a living?”
Too rich, Aunt Baaa!
You’re right. I do have a story! Just call me “sparky” As opposed to… Ahab???
Woot!
I’m going to hold you to this “fist fight with a guy in a strip club” story, my friend. It sounds positively intriguing.
(PS. The line is from an old ditty called “Four Old Whores”)
See here for some t-shirt ideas and abuse of…
Yeah, not one of my brightest, shiniest moments. Those were the dark, alcohol-soaked days of my ill-begotten youth in that hard-drinkin’ town called Pittsburgh.
Aunt Baaa…
This just keeps getting more intriguing by the second!!!!!
Hah! That old man, he makes me chuckle, damn it!
😆
I knew a guy who would give a stripper a dollar, she would take it and let it fall on the stage and move to the next guy continuing in a circle. This guy would just reach out and grab the dollar he just gave the girl and give it back to her on the next round.
Now I also know some women that used to go to the male revues. They would take a roll of silver dollars and put them in the freezer before going to the show..
Great you got arrested. Just like that crappy Ram guy, now you are going to end up blogging about life in prison only to get bored and take your ball and go home.
Hahahah!
You know some very interesting people!
Why have you stopped calling at 3am?
WTF: “Crappy Ram guy”
??????????????
First, you tell a sweet old man to “go fuck himself!” Then you besmirch the name of an innocent man in jail; then you sentence me to Gravel Bay, and then you call me a quitter????
You’ve been reading ahead again, haven’t you?
I called at 11PM and you were still working late trying to sell some shades or some bullcrap. I stick with the bars that close at 1AM. You go to those all night raves at 3AM. I am just too old to catch up.
Yeah…he was crappy b/c just when I was about to find out how to escape, he quits blogging. Look, if I am going to embezzle millions from Hamish, I need an escape plan worked up before I get arrested (oops did I just give away my plan).
So now, I pay nutless to get YOU riled up so the cops come arrest you and I can work out theories on how you can escape. But I realize my plan won’t work, b/c like Ram, you will lose hope in prison and quit sharing info.
I have a working theory that one day he will be freed and end up here.
Shhhh…
It’s just a theory.
No way am I going to jail. What with my boyish and canine good looks, I wouldn’t survive: They’d trade me for rave glow sticks.
Embezzling, you say? Paying Nutless Tom, you say? Donna Mils, you say?
Call me. 3am sharp. We need to talk.
Wait what time is it there now? I get confused with all these blogs and Grenich mean time or Greenwitch in the mean time or CT.
It’s early…
You’ve got lots of time.
Yup, time to hit a bar, maybe stop off after for a late night snack…
Tons of time.
Specifically how much time, you ask?
Oh.
Sorry, I should have said so at the top.
Silly me.
Sorry, where was I…?
I forget…
Oh, right!
The time…
Call me in five hours. We need to talk.
I am awake…calling but the phone keeps ringing. Did you get a hook up last night.
I waited until 5am.
Then I went to sleep.
Let’s try for tonight.
We have much to discuss.
who tkaes a roll of dollars to a strip club> i used to work at a male strip club and i have never heard of such a thing. arent the dancers offended? ..and how do they hold it.?.(nevermind)
“who takes a roll of dollars to a strip club?”
Otto.
sigh Otto…
You’re right, Mistress of Raunch, it’s bad form and the kind of thing that can get you pounded on by the club’s bouncers.
PS. Yes, hah, we’ll just speculate on where they hide it…
smiling Alan thinks on this…
HAHAAHAHHAAHAHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH…
i DONT know what had me first….
A place called Strippy McNudes OR
Pennies and Nickels down her G String
hAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHH….Now thats a Friday Blog Entry……ahahahahahahhaahah…Zman sends
🙂
Thanks a lot, Zman!
Much appreciated!
Cheers,
Alan
Someone called ‘Nutless’ at a strip joint, how bizarre
Hah!
I’m told stranger things have happened at Strippy McNudes.
Nice to see you, Tony.
I certainly hope the bachelor party was “Nutless”. Unless the address got mixed up in which case everyone there would go blind.
“Otto tried to stuff nickels and pennies down the stripper’s g-string”
Similarly, I submit you could have stuffed the strippers in turn up Tom’s nether region. Since he didn’t feel the party, he would have certainly felt that.
Though, in retrospect, that would have been punishment for the strippers as well.
And as Peter Griffin would say.
“There’s no reason to kill strippers. Most of them are already dead inside.”
Greetings eksith,
As always, much to ponder here. I have to say that I’ve never actually considered stuffing a stripper up a man’s nether region. I wonder if that’s how the ones from Quebec get across the border to the United States…? Something to think on. And think on it I will.
Great quote. Is there nothing that Family Guy can say that isn’t sagely offensive?
My theory on Otto’s strange habit of showering strippers with change may date back to a formative trip to Bangkok in his earlier years, in which he saw more than one stripper display their ability to roll and wrap change without using their hands.
This would also explain his bizarre table tennis serving technique, which often requires a Thai stripper and several ounces of snakehead moonshine.
🙂
This table tennis trick.
Wow.
That’s something I think I would actually like to see.
Once, anyway.
That may explain the origin of the expression
“She’s in a roll” 😉
Oops, “On a roll” of course…
I think both of them work!!!
And very well, I might add.
😆
Arrested?
So it was a good party then?
In theory… Yah!
In practice… Nah!
WHOA. ALAN. I CANNOT BELIEVE IT. YOU GOT ARRESTED!??! FOR ASSAULTING NUTLESS TOM TOO!??!!?!?
Errr so… were the inmates friendly? Who bailed you out?
Bad news about Tracy. But then again, it’s better than doing all those weird stuff I suggested to avoid being Nutless Tom’s best man. It’s possible that God noticed your distress call and answered your prayers. Pray every night and thank Him lol.
Woot!
🙂
Hah!
The inmates were… Charming. A bit standoffish, but that was fine by me.
My parents bailed me out. Nothing like making the old “Hi mum and dad, I’m in jail” phone call to make one’s parents super proud.
Yes, I suppose Tracy will have to find a new “Nutless Shining Knight in Armour.”
Hah. Oh, I’ll pray…Haha… Pray I don’t go to jail! 😉
Nice to see you as always, Anonymously Secret!
LOL! Your PARENTS bailed you out!? Couldn’t you call Carlita or something? Hahahhah.
P.S. Did Nutless Tom say why Tracy broke up with him? Just curious.
Nice to see you too! 🙂
I know… But I had no one else to call.
I don’t think phoning Carlita would have endeared me to her. You know, given how wonderful she already thinks I am. 😉
No reason was given. My thinking is he broke uo with her to drive me nuts. Hence — Nutless Tom.
Nice to see you too, too!
🙂
A modern nursery rhyme – Tom, Tom, the nutless one.
Tom, Tom, his fiancee’s gone
Al got blamed, and went off on one
Tom’s throat he got a good grip on
and the sirens started wailing…..
Brilliant!
“NobblySan — Making the Internet 100% Funnier!”
And you can quote me on that!
In other news, a lighthearted note for the wild, wild world of the worldwide web.
Talking dog Alpo has read Nobblysan’s comments and given him the proverbial “paws-up,” stating: “NobblySan [is] making the Internet 100% funnier.”
Nobblysan could not be reached for comment, but his publicist gave us the finger.
Those wacky bloggers! They sure know their way around a comment thread! Back to you, Jim.
Thanks, Carrie. They sure do.
Just a gentle reminder folks: although the internet is great for time-wasting and porn, your news should always come from a trusted source, one with years and years of experience.
So from all of us at the 700 Club, have a safe and boring night.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha…
Well, I did say “you can quote me on that.”
This is the third night in a row you’ve had me laughing out loud. Isn’t that right, Carrie?
Carrie: It sure is, Alpo, over to you Nobbly…
(Pause. Back to an uncomfortable Carrie.)
Carrie: Over to you, Jim.
TO: A startled Jim with his finger in his ear.
Jim: What? Oh, thanks, Carrie. And back to you Alpo.
Alpo: Thanks Carrie and Jim. So, Dr. CLT, what’s with the publicist and the finger?
CLT: I can’t believe you like The Dandy Warhols.
Alpo: Good point. Ladies and gentlemen, Sir Capitalist Lion Tamer — Making the Internet 100% More Dangerous On A Daily Basis! And you can quote me on that!
Audience applauds CLT, who gives them the finger.
Likewise. Three nights in a row with the lawls. (Particularly the “startled Jim” line.)
It’s becoming a little disconcerting to my impressionable offspring. “Crazy ol’ dad. Laughing at the computer… Let’s go upstairs and watch Futurama.”
I do love the new tag line. I’m putting that on all my business cards.
I may have to make some extra-large business cards as I’m also fond of Claire’s addition: “More clever than accurate.”
If they are going to watch Futurama then this is a very good thing.
Wasn’t there a “Crazy ol’ computer dad who laughs at the people” character in Futurama?
If not, there should have been.
I have to say “More Clever Than Accurate” would look damn fine on a t-shirt.
Damn fine!
Well, they’re still impressionable, so I do what I can, mandatory Futurama nights and all.
They can always fit this new character in, as they’re back in business and all. Although the Professor seems to have most of the crazy wrapped up already.
Prof: [giving Fry the tour] This is my office, and my workbench, and my intergalactic spaceship. Here’s a drawer where I keep various lengths of wire.
Fry: You have an intergalactic spaceship??!!
Prof: Oh my, yes. Let me show you the different lengths of wire I used to build it.
T-shirt sales are a must. Perhaps I could get an autographed picture from your Uncle Clive Fucking Cussler to add insult to injurious defamation lawsuit.
I’ll have a word with Uncle Clive. I suspect it will cost and end up all litigious. What a fucker.
He’s in the hospital right now.
Poor bastard swallowed 15 condoms filled with his books and tried to get them across the border.
He’s not well.
But you knew that…
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
😉
No. Not well at all. In fact, the last time I saw him, he made sure I knew all about his prolapsed rectum, his internal disorders, his late stages of dementia and his son’s negative diagnosis from the phrenologist.
He probably would have been healthier if he hadn’t tried to smuggle in the Large Print editions. He always said he preferred them because of how much bigger “CLIVE FUCKING CUSSLER” appeared on the cover.
He also pooped some of these out, inadvertently. I think.
!!!! }}
Ha! Trust the media to get it all wrong.
Again.
They’re saying it was his prolapsed disorders, his internal dementia, his late stages of his phrenologist son’s negative diagnosis from the rectum.
Damn media. Waste of skin, I tells ya.
If only I had the adjectives needed to completely debase the media. I’ll pop over to the New York Times site and see if I can borrow some. They have some really big ones.
Night, A. F. Truitt. Give your dear uncle the finger for me.
Can do.
Good night, my friend.
Say hi to Edna Morton and the rest of the cronies at The New York Times.
START
The CLATT couple (think about it) have gone way beyond me in their double act.
Reminds me of elephants mating, occurs at night, nothing can be seen of it, but the noise is amazing.
END of First Official Edict from ElPresgod.
😛
“Capitalist Lion Alan Tamer Truitt”
What a wonderful thing to say. I’d been waiting all for my life for a compliment that incorporated elephants (I’m a fan of elephants, by the way). So, this is extra special for me.
On behalf of CLT and myself, thank you for the kind words, ElPresgod..
Love it!
And let’s not forget Louie Prima!
HAHAHA!!!
Brilliant work, Pres. We’ll need to get the T-shirt mills up and rolling, what with all the new slogans popping up.
We can take this show on the road, Alan. There can’t be a catchier slogan than:
“Like Elephants Doin’ It”
Bonus fact: much like the byproduct of elephants sexing each other up, around 7% of our jokes are stillborn.
I spoke with president Dave at length on the phone – he’s really on top of this. Not only has he mass produced the t-shirts, he’s scored a deal with the Gap. You and I are the CLATT Brothers (sort of like The Jonas Brothers, only you give everyone the finger and I’m the sensitive one prone to fits of weeping). So, the shirts are a go.
Dave also wrote us an awesome elephant single… Oh yeah, we’re a musical band now as well. Plus, he wrote a really marvelous coming of age screenplay about two guys and an elephant. Is that Hollywood knocking?
And, and this is the best part, he’s bought us each our own elephant. Yours is in the mail. Mine arrived an hour ago. It just made a pass at my wife. I’m a little concerned. But damn, is it funny!
I thought it was Hollywood knocking. I answered the door “in the altogether” hoping to score some brownie points right off the bat, but unfortunately it was only some Brownies.
After a long and humiliating chat with local law enforcement, I returned home. Another knock. I gathered my wits and robe around me and answered the door with, “I’m ready for my closeup, C.C. DeVille!”
After another long and humiliating chat, the mailman and I parted ways. He had my check for the C.O.D. charges (thanks Dave) and I had one brand new elephant.
Long story short, the neighbor’s pool will now thankfully be free of lusty teenagers at all hours of the night. They seem to think this is worse.
After another long and humiliating chat, I agreed to store my elephant within my property lines. I did get my patented parting shot in, though.
I shot them the finger, proudly displaying my purity ring, and shouted, “Fuck you, Dirk! Now you’ve made your cousin cry! A pox on you and your family!”
Hahahahhaha!
Awesome.
The door knock thing, can, of course, be problematic. You never know who, or what foreign specie is going to be there. (Oh, and watch out for those Brownies. You don’t buy their trans fat filled shit – they’ll seriously mess with you.)
But back to doors…
There are some unfortunate types who’ve never mastered actually opening a door.
Knobs confuse them.
Speaking of knobs, I once saw Chad (“Drinky Drinky Drivee”) Kroeger spend an afternoon arguing with a door knob. He kept shaking it and yelling, “I’ll stop chocking you if you’ll just let me out of the house!”
And we were, of course, falling over ourselves in merriment (as well as wondering how he got in the house in the first place).
It was funny for the first few minutes, but then it just got embarrassing.
He’d punch it and then scream “Ow! That fucking hurts! You knob! You doorknob! Just let me out, man. What’s your problem?”
And, of course, the doorknob’s silent treatment only made him more distraught. The poor benighted rocker.
It started to get uncomfortable.
Until he started chewing on it
That had a nice fresh visual gag feel to it. Speaking of “gag.” Chad chocked on the doorknob.
He passed out. Broke wind. Belched and soiled himself.
Then we opened the door and threw him out.
Hahahahaha!!!
Chad “Penis” Kroeger; what a dipshit! He’s gone so stupid I couldn’t even think up a clever nickname for him. I think it’s catching.
I think they’re trying to get some help for him. Between green room doorknobs and his inability to pass standing water without picking a fight, Chad has delayed the beginning of several shows, putting them right next door to “breach of contract.”
The contract signing was a nightmare as well. After nearly being de-eyeballed several times by the “malfunctioning” pen (thanks, publicist), the A&R team finally agreed to call the contract signed if he could just say “X” when they asked him to.
Two weeks later, they had a deal. They may not let him breach his contract for fear of having to explain the situation to him, using visual aids such as: felt boards, slide shows, electroshock, and blows to the head.
This kind of delay in proceedings due to a combination of ignorance and stubborness has been co-opted by our Congressmen, who frequently stall proceedings with some “Krogering.”
Woot! Merkin! Nerk! Hahaha!
He’s really not worthy of a clever nickname. And for the record. I like “Chad ‘Penis’ Kroeger; what a dipshit! He’s gone so stupid I couldn’t even think up a clever nickname for him. I think it’s catching.”
The irony?
It’s catchy.
But Chad could never string all those words together.
He said “X”? I read in Rolling Stone it was “Duh” You might want to fire Edna Morton, or at lest give her a good banishing.
As for our our Congressmen, who frequently stall proceedings with some “Krogering.”
Well, they got elected because of those partially-punched Chads.
In the future we must thoroughly punch our Chad.
Priceless! “Thoroughly punch Chad.” Fucking awesome!
This last election was such a blowout that we never got to make good on the “hanging chad(s)” unfortunately.
We pushed for them, but no one gave a shit, except in Minnesota where they were busy trying to elect a third-rate comedian.
But I digress, Chad “Penis and all the rest” Kroeger took issue with several items of our mutual bashing (meaning CLT and Alan, not Chad and any combination of the above).
First of all, the doorknob. He claims he was “set up,” whatever the fuck that means. I assume he means that the door was weighted and shut by itself once he was inside.
Secondly, “standing water v. C. P. Kroeger.” Again, he claims he was “set up,” by which I can only imagine he means someone lifted him upright shortly before the kiddie pool handed his ass to him.
Third, “the long nickname.” He claims he loves it and is getting it tattooed on his penis, because it is just that long, ladies, you’d better believe it, eh?
I can only assume that he means he’s quite well hung and that, of course, I’m not willing to verify that. Finally: he gets one right.
Ahhhh…
Yes, finally our dipshit of a hero gets one right.
Let the bells ring!
(Later, we can watch Chad try and duke it out with the ringing bells. I don’t like his odds.)
Let the banners fly!
(Later, Chad will try and have a discussion with a banner and will get mightily offended when it blows in his face. He’ll keep trying to punch it and will get terribly perplexed as to why with each thrown blow, his fists don’t hurt.)
Let fireworks light up the sky!
(Later, Chad will feel insecure when looking at a missile shaped pyrotechnic device. Now that is well hung. He will ask for its autograph and when it doesn’t respond he will shove it down his pants.
Chad wins!
Things get really exciting fifteen minutes later when Chad lights up a cigarette and drops the lighter on his pants.
The world is spared from any future generation Chads – and Chad has a new comic shtick. From here on in, lousy things always happen to his penis.
The irony? He’s a total penis to begin with… And, so it’s true…Bad things do happen to well hung Chads.
Hahahahahahaha!!
“And the moron of the story is…
Chad Penis Kroeger.”
I must bid this fine comment thread “adieu” for the evening. Nicely played throughout, A.F.T. Enjoy your evening/morning and I will see you next, wherever your libelous comments take you.
Sincerest apologies all around to other Clives, Chads and elephants, who are related in first-name only.
P.S. Dave. That check I wrote will bounce. Not really your problem, but the USPS may come after you. They’re still pretty upset about this whole “email” thing.
P.P.S. Nobbly: thanks for attempting to get a word in edgewise. I don’t want to point fingers at anybody (ahemAl) but some of us (ahemCLT) have been taking liberties with the “Comment” button.
All other complaints should be filed with WordPress.com, a division of Google, Inc., which allows anybody (and I mean anybody) to create a user account. Return unused portion for a full refund.
I was on top of the latest dialogue until 0340hrs when the CLATT’s went off on a tangent best described as akin to schizophrenic thought disorder.
I have searched the web for a suitable link to bouncing checks, but the only hits would earn me a rebuke by our female readers.
See below for how to get the CLATT t-shirt.
Cheers, el prez!
The mugs are damn fine!
And the elephant has finally stopped making plays for my lovely wife.
Now he’s drinking all my wine and beer — and demanding more!
Still, as far as elephant’s go, he’s a fun drunk.
And quite a surprisingly graceful dancer.
so………strippy mcnudes is where all the raucus debauchery happens!! i’ve been thinking…i want the title of mistress of raunch, it has a ring to it.. silly men, are still giving their hard earned money to bad strippers. to see a real stripper go here for free: (NSFW)
http://trippinwithrip.wordpress.com/2009/07/13/now-thats-a-stripper/
Ha!
Wonderful.
The title is all yours…
Mistress of Raunch.
I knew there was a reason I liked you! 😉
giddy-up! i got a new name!! whoo-hoo!
Hahaha! And a damn good one too!
Woot! 😆
Nice to see you, Mistress of Raunch!
WOWSERS ALAN!
I sure hope you dont get into TOO much trouble! That tom seems like a dastardly kind of man and doesnt deserve a friend like you!
After all that planning and stuff for nothing! I would have got super mad at him as well like you did.
And i know all about blacking out when getting super mad and not knowing what happens after!
I hope you had a great weekend!
Bob
Thank goodness you’re here, Bob!
And thank you for the comforting words. They are, of course, much appreciated. This whole Tom ordeal has been a bit tiring and I certainly don’t relish the prospect of time in the hoosegow. Bur on the upside, I am finally rid of Nutless Tom.
And thanks for the outrage on my behalf as well, Bob. But I certainly wouldn’t want you to get super mad too often. You have a kind and trusting nature and are a good fellow. I’d hate to see you become cynical. Plus, I’m sure blacking out can’t be good for anyone.
Say hi to your mum, Bob. Keep brushing up on your Shakespeare and keep wearing those sensible shoes!
All best,
Alan
You’re much too nice, Alan!
Its a good thing that you’re rid of Nutless Tom. It can only be a good thing to get rid of the toxic people in a persons life. Just Like the song by Britney Spears!
I wont ever become Cynical. I think that life is far too grand! HOORAY!
Bob
Remember my post about nightmares? Yea.
😆
Death of a Nutless Fiend!
Friends… Are they just fiends without an ‘r’?
Hahaha!
I just got a letter from Clark. He’s learning how to fly. And not having much luck I might add!
Too funny…
http://home.egge.net/~savory/blog_aug_09.htm
Top shelf, (as always)! My only disappointment? Otto not tipping the strippers in toes. Now that would have been a party!
Hah!
Damn! And so true! Nice one.
Tipping the strippers in toes used to be a medieval custom that showed respect. It was an old and noble tradition that, sadly, somewhere along the line just stopped. Tragic, really.
And society is worse off because of it.
What will we lose next? The noble tradition of stuffing a stuffed and mounted hamster down a g-string… ?
We do that and we’re just one step away from anarchy.
The change arose from the switch from the cast iron chastity belts, which as you know could hold a lot of toes, to the g-string or thong, which are less than ideal for toe storage.
I’m with you man!
Hah!
Nice one, my friend.
And wih that, I am now officially on vacation!
See you in a month!
Alan
Actually, the CLATT t-shirt will not be available anytime soon as I have just dicovered the meaning of clatt;
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Clatt
However, the coffee mug option at;
http://www.zazzle.com/custom_urban_dictionary_mug-168243605698579412
looks a distinct winner and reminiscent of free coffee containers offered in Omaha was it…?
Elpresgod.
COI I will get no backhander if anyone buys the mugs, other than from my wife…
Hah! God bless our lovely wives and their keeping us in line.
…Guess that means that the Lion Tamer and I are very “clattable.”
😆
😀 Too funny! Thanks for the smile.
Goon
😉 My pleasure!
Thanks for the kind words, Wondergoon!
Alan