Donald the devious dinosaur...

There once (approximately 65 million years ago) lived a small and crafty dinosaur named Donald. Donald was a devious dinosaur. For those of you who don't know what devious means, then you should invest in a dictionary or a phone to call a friend whom has a dictionary. Perhaps you could save up enough money for a computer to look up the definition on the internet. This is of course completely absurd as you are reading this story on the computer.

So, back to Donald. Donald was as aforementioned devious. All the other dinosaurs knew this and avoided him at all costs. Donald was in fact the 'Eddie Haskell" of the dinosaur world. He would be sickly sweet as he fawned over this or that, in an attempt to curry favor. All this when everyone knew that Donald was really after some food.

Donald had no tact and often interrupted other dinosaurs in the very act of obtaining food. As you may know dinosaurs for the most part ate other dinosaurs, except the sissy kind that only ate plants. This can be a bloody affair and therefore the FCC has stepped in and censored various portions of this story.

A typical conversation would go like this,

Donald: "Hey, whatch'ya doin?"

Other dinosaur: "Chomp, rip, snarl...huh, what?"

Donald: "I said, whatch'ya doin?"

Other dinosaur: "Hey man, can't you see I'm busy?"

Donald: "Oh, yeah, I can see that and might I add that you're doing a REALLY good job!"

Other dinosaur: "Yeah, great. Anyway, I'm pretty busy. As you can see I have killed this poor defenseless sissy dinosaur."

Dinosaur being eaten: "I'm not completely dead."

Other dinosaur: "Well, you should be. I completely (CENSORED) you (CENSORED) with my large and ferocious teeth!"

Dinosaur being eaten: "Yes, that was fairly amazing, but I'm still alive. Additionally, I don't appreciate the insults. I may be a vegetarian, but it's a lifetstyle choice and frankly none of your business."

Other dinosaur: "I apologize. I see where you are going with this. It was quite rude for me to make such cutting (pun intended..get it...because of the teeth?) remarks before you were dead."

Dinosaur being eaten: "That's perfectly alright. I appreciate your consideration in this matter. Nature may be what nature may be, but there's no reason to make it personal.

*and with that, the other dinosaur (CENSORED) the (CENSORED) out of the little sissy dinosaur's (CENSORED).

Donald: "Well, I must say that that was a VERY clean and effective (CENSORED). By the way, I've heard tell of your KINDNESS and GENEROSITY and thought that I might impose on you for an EXTREMELY small favor."

Other dinosaur: "Oh, great, here it comes."

At this point, Donald would mooch a leg or whatever other morsel he could con off of the other dinosaur. While annoying for you or I, this quickly became a serious source of contention for the other dinosaurs. After all they had a small brain and therefore a limited capacity for tolerating such impositions.

So when he wasn't looking, the other dinosaurs crept up behind Donald and (CENSORED) his (CENSORED) apart with a barage of (CENSORED) that (CENSORED) his (CENSORED) out. With Donald's (CENSORED), (CENSORED) and (CENSORED) out of his (CENSORED), he could no longer mooch food off of the other dinosaurs and in fact became a tasty meal for the venerable "Kevinasaurus Rex"...the meanest and hungriest dinosaur in the world.

The end.

--> Read more...

Turbo-donkey 3000

Have you ever had THIS happen to you? You have a large load of vegetables or other perishables to get to market, and your donkey just won't budge? I know I have.

Now, for a limited time only, BURTCO Industries has revolutionized your produce transportation problems! It's called TURBO-DONKEY 3000!!! No more will your tomatos become toma-don'ts! Your chickens will get there safely, your lettuce will arrive unwilted.


With it's patented, "Donkey rocket" technology, Turbo-donkey 3000 has the speed and acuracy that is unmatched in it's industry. Just look at THIS other major rocket powered brand.



It's way too slow and has been rumored to slam into cars, trees, an other immovable objects. THAT's a good way to get your food where it's going...as long as it's going to the MORGUE!


Yes, with Turbo-donkey 3000, you'll never hear THIS again, "Your vegetables smell like dookie!"


Just listen to this satisfied customer: "I used to habe los of troubles getting my coffee beans to market. With robbers, Federales, and Cartels, I yust could not get my beans to market without muchos problemas. Now when the Federales come, I yust flip a switch (click) I'm off! 'Nos bamos Turbo donkey tree tousand!' Aye, yi, yi!!!"







But wait, there's more! Now, for a limited time only, you can receive the free manual, "One thousand and one useful uses for a stuffed chicken!" when you purchase a Turbo-donkey 3000! The first hundred thousand callers will also receive the guide to identifying spider bites, "Spider bite or just MRSA?!?"


So remember friends, immitation rocket powered animals just won't cut it, and may cause permanent death! So order today, and your Turbo-donkey 3000 will be delivered to you immediately (Please allow six to eight weeks delivery as the Turbo-donkey 3000 is somewhat skittish and will not cross open water such as creeks and small fjords without significant encouragement).


This offer is not available in Florida, California, and Guam. They eat donkeys in Guam.

--> Read more...

Dong Dang Huynh and other funny things

This morning, the fam and I were going to swim in the creek. I was listening to the news and a report regarding an FBI bulletin came over the radio. The story indicated that Dong Dang Huyng was wanted for money laundering. They pronounced the name funny (Huynh Dang Dong) and the kids started laughing (sorry Dong). They further said that Dong might be in Vietnam or Hong Kong. This was too much for the car and the following wordplay ensued:

Huynh Dang Dong might be in Hong Kong.


Huynh Dang Dong might be in Hong Kong...where he is playing ping pong.


Huynh Dang Dong might be in Hong Kong, where he is playing ping pong...with King Kong.


Huynh Dang Dong might be in Hong Kong, where he is playing ping pong with King Kong...while
acting like ding dongs.


Huynh Dang Dong might be in Hong Kong, where he is playing ping pong with King Kong, while acting like ding dongs...singing a song.


Huynh Dang Dong might be in Hong Kong, where he is playing ping pong with King Kong, while acting like ding dongs, singing a song...about Long's.


Huynh Dang Dong might be in Hong Kong, where he is playing ping pong with King Kong while acting like ding dongs, singing a song about Long's...where they are going to buy palm fronds.


Huynh Dang Dong might be in Hong Kong, where he is playing ping pong with King Kong while acting like ding dongs, singing a song about Long's where they are going to buy palm fronds...to
make magic wands.


Huynh Dang Dong might be in Hong Kong, where he is playing ping pong with King Kong while acting like ding dongs, singing a song about Long's where they are going to buy palm fronds to make magic wands...to turn every girl into blondes.


This is about where it ended, but as you can see, my children will have plenty to talk with Dr. Phil about when they are older.

--> Read more...

Everyone's named Steve...

There was once a land where everyone was named "Steve". Men, women and children were named Steve. Dogs and cats along with various other types of pets were named Steve also.

While this may seem like a novel idea, it actually stunk. Here is a sample of a common daily interaction between a Steve family at the breakfast table: "Hey Steve, could you pass me the milk for my cereal?" Steve asked. "No Steve, I drank the last of the milk last night when I was up late tending to an awful case of indigestion." replied Steve. "COME ON Steve!" yelled Steve. "That's the second time this month you've drank all the milk!"

About this time, the father (also named Steve) steps in. "Alright, the both of you. I've had enough of your bickering! Steve, you will apologize to your sister Steve for drinking all the milk. Steve, you will apologize to your brother Steve for being such a snag." "Oh, Steve" said the mother, "Why do you have to be so hard on the children?" "For the last time Steve" said the father to the mother, "when will you ever back my play? I'm supposed to be the head of this family!" "The head better head out, or he'll be late for work!" Steve looked at his watch and scurried for the door. "We'll talk more about this LATER!" Steve snorted as he left the room.

"Alright kids" Steve said to her son and daughter "You know how much it bothers your father Steve when you fight. Steve, you need to be nicer to your sister, and Steve, you need to be more patient with your brother."

"You're right mother" said Steve "I'm sorry Steve. I'll try to be nicer." "I agree, I'll see if I can put up with more of your immature nonsense than usual." said Steve to her brother.

Steve the mother and the two children named Steve all laughed together as they thought about how silly the argument had truely been. Steve the dog wagged his tail and barked in appreciation for all the love that was being shared in the room.

As you can see, this is a horrible place and we'll have no more of it.

The end.

--> Read more...

Kevin and Derek's dysfunctional relationship...

Kevin was a lemur. He was no ordinary lemur...well, I guess he was pretty standard as far as lemurs go. Not much to say there.

Anyway, Kevin was the leader of a small pack (herd, pack, flock? Lemurs never were given the 411 on what to call themselves, en masse). Kevin was a fairly compassionate lemur who thought that the group should be more inclusive as a whole. There had been several attempts by other animals to join their little herd, pack, flock (or whatever you may call it) of lemurs, but they were either chased off or given the cold shoulder until they would wander away with all new reasons to get lost in self doubt.

One bright morning, Kevin awoke to find a large dinosaur sleeping in the center of their little community. "This was not there before." thought Kevin. He was almost completely certain of that one point. Two points of which Kevin held feelings of less certainty were, A) What was the dinosaur doing in the middle of their living area, and 2) would his intentions be honorable and not end in the senseless eating of several members of his community. Kevin would not have long to wait for answers to both questions.

As the sunlight bathed over the last tall tree, the rooster crowed. The dinosaur awoke drowsily and sat his head up. He immediately ate the rooster in one enormous bite.

On most days, this type of activity would have bothered Kevin but a little, but Keving you see had very important meetings this week which required him to wake punctually (aided of course by the inherent need for the rooster to crow at the first signs of sunlight).

"Excuse me," beckoned Kevin the lemur to the dinosaur. "Would you please spit that back out? I need it, you see." "I'm sorry" said the dinosaur, "I've already swallowed it past my pyloric sphincter. As I'm sure you're aware, once it's passed that point, there is no coming back." Kevin bristled a little as he regarded the dinosaur's reply.

"Well, sir." Kevin snorted, "This simply will not do. We have rules and such around these parts, which preclude the eating of smaller beasts by larger and more teethier ones." The dinosaur thought about this for a short while, then said, "O.K. I understand. My name is Derek and I shall refrain from eating lesser beasts, as long as you let me live here. I like this spot, and frankly, I am in no hurry to leave." Kevin agreed and slowly over the next few weeks, an awkward friendship began among the two.

Things were going alright for the most part, when Kevin started realizing that his small group, pack (whatever) was getting smaller. "That's odd" thought Kevin. "I wonder the other lemurs have gone on some type of vacation of some sort?" They had in a way gone on a permenant vacation...one that would led through the entrails of Derek the dinosaur and end in a small distasteful pile on the side of the road.

Kevin really became concerned when his girlfriend Phillis and her brother Phillip dissappeared. Phillis for obvious reasons and Phillip because he owed him some money.

Kevin approached Derek one day and said, "Excuse me, Derek. Have you any idea what has happened to the others of this herd, pack, flock or whatever you may call it?" Derek looked at Kevin and smiled a wide toothy smile, "Nope." Kevin gasped as he spied there between Derek's front incisor and his other incisor (he's a dinosaur, that's all he has...it's because he only eats meat. You should know this stuff.) was the lovely tail of his late Phillis.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Kevin stated. "What have you done? You've eaten them haven't you?!?!?" "Well, since you're asking..." Derek said, "Yeah, I did have a few...dozen."

"What am I supposed to think of this? I let you stay here, against the wishes of the others in this herd, pack, flock or whatever you may call it and now you've eaten them!!! Well, that's just GREAT!!!"

"You can calm down, I won't eat any more." Derek reassured Kevin. Just then, Chuck the lemur walked by and Derek snapped him up into his rather large jaws. "HEY! I thought you said you weren't going to eat any more?" Derek just shrugged and looked on sheepishly. William the lemur was riding his new bike past the two and Derek slowly leaned to the side and sucked him into his mouth, "Swoooooop...crunch."

"Alright mister!" Kevin exclaimed. "You're OUTTA HERE!!!" Kevin marched over to Derek and pushed hard against the large dinosaur's torso. He tugged, he shoved, he lifted, but Derek would just not be moved.

"Are you quite finished?" Derek asked. "I'm getting a stomach ache"

This was it. Kevin would have no more. Why had he let this mangy dinosaur into his tribe in the first place? Kevin stood with his paws on his hips and looked Derek straight in the eye. "I trusted you, but that's it! If you eat one more lemur..!"

Children, I will spare you the gruesome details of Kevin's little trip through the dinosaur's not-so-super highway. So remember little ones, just because a person says he's your friend, doesn't mean he isn't eating your family for lunch.

The end.

--> Read more...

Tony's almost famous pizzaria...

Yo here, it's Tony of Tony's almost famous pizzaria. I got like six different pizzas here. I gots the pepperoni. I gots linguisa. I even gots pineapple. I don't know what kind of sissy would order the pineapple pizza, but I'll be sure to let you know when he comes in.

How did I get started you may ask. Well, come over here and sit down. My father...my father he was a good man. My father said, "Little Tony. Make a life for yourself. Do something nice to make the people happy and don't never let nobody get you down an' you'll get someplace in life." I believed him.

"HEY VINNIE! GET THE PAPER TOWELS FOR THE BATHROOM! MRS. VINCHENZO DON'T HAVE NOTHIN' TO WIPE HER HANDS WIT!" Sorry about that. Anyways, I thought to myself, "Little Tony. What could you do to make the people happy?" I didn't know anything. I thought and thought. I thought alot back then. Now, not so much.

So's my mother and my father, they took me one night to a pizzaria. They had like five different pizzas there! I was in heaven. I ate like three different pizza slices wit' my cousins. I knew it then, that this was my calling in life. I was a gonna be a pizza guy.

So sit down and have yourself a nice slice of the pizza. I got some cracked peppers an some shakey-cheese. You want it fast? Forgetaboutit.

Take a load off and enjoy some of Tony's almost famous pizza.

The end.

--> Read more...

The economics of Pan...

Pan sat in the center of the great council. He rolled his eyes as the scribe read off the charges, each worse than the previous. Zeus glowered down on the central podium where Pan sat, sighing.

Pan shot a sideways smile and a quick wink at Daphnis who was looking on shyly. Her face flushed as she raised her shoulders glanced away. He didn't dare blow a kiss, as this would place Zeus completely over the edge. Even Pan knew the boundaries not to cross. This boundary was somewhere in the vicinity of the outskirts of Hades. There would definetly be no fun to be had there.

So Pan listened on half interrestedly, marking the time by the grains of sand dropping through the hour glass.

"PAN!" bellowed Zeus, "WHAT HAVE YOU TO SAY REGARDING THE CHARGES RAISED AGAINST YOU?!?" "I'm sorry" quipped Pan, "I couldn't quite hear what you were saying." Even under threat of banishment, Pan couldn't resist a little jab here and there.

"PAN!" Zeus continued, "You have been charged with spreading disease and destruction throughout the land. The cost of your libations and frivolities have been great. What have ye to say?"

Pan sat thoughtfully as the sentence hung like a stale scent once pleasant. After some time, he broke the silence with a question. "How, could this be true?" said he, "I have done nothing but given the world a ROSE, yet you accuse me of sewing thistles."

Zeus uttered a low sigh as his voice calmed. "Pan, your ROSE held bitter thornes. Did you not know that only the top of the rose holds the pleasant scent? The remainder left over time is sharp, painful, and hard to let go. This is the price of your endeavors. For you are not human and do not know the pain, for time is neverending for you, thus the petals never fall."

Zeus continued, "Pan, is there no way that you will understand and cease your sewing?" Pan held no understanding of the weight of his words. He had never felt any of the pain of which Zeus spoke of. His was a life of pleasure and continual enjoyment. He couldn't conceive of the damage of which he was charged.

"Lord Zeus, " Pan responded, "I know nothing of what you speak. My work is the work of love and happiness. There is no pain, nor could there be. What loss you speak of, I know not. Therefore, I will not stop spreading my form of happiness. I will continue till the end of my days, which you know well will never come." With that, Pan leaned back against the rail and smiled triumphantly.

Zeus clapped his mighty hands together signifying that he was ready to pass sentence on the accused. "Pan, there is nothing to do with you, but to banish you. The cost of your freedom is too high." The panoply gasped at the sentenced passed, for many of them had taken part in Pan's escapades and had assured themselves that he would find his freedom in the end.

Zeus raised his arms to quiet the rising din. "Pan, despite this sentence, I do not pass the judgement upon you." Pan cocked a quizzical eyebrow. The gods sat in questioning silence. Zeus continued, "I pass this judgement on all present, BUT you. I know the secret acts of those in this room and I know of their hidden thoughts." The great room slammed to a convicted halt. "I pass this judgement, that you be banished from the hearts and lives of all, but I do not cast you from the land. It is the responsibility of all present to banish you from their lives, so that one day you will hold no sway over them."

Zeus clapped his hands for the final time and left the others with their convictions. One by one, the gods turned to leave, their hearts pierced with guilt. One by one they left, until the columned halls rang hollow.

Pan stood bewildered. What had happened? Was he still in trouble? No Hades?

"Huh." exclaimed Pan. And with that, he went off to find some libation.

The end.

--> Read more...

The ticket in my pocket...

I sat in the chair, completely confused. It had just happened and left my mind reeling. Where had it come from. Where had I been where someone had slipped it into my pocket. It wasn't mine. It couldn't have been. I remember ironing my shirt. It wasn't there when I starched and pressed it. I'm certain of it. I'm pretty sure I ironed it anyway.

So there I sat, completely befuddled by the ticket in my hand. How could this ticket have gotten into my pocket? I didn't go to the movie. I didn't remember it at least. Wouldn't you remember having gone to the theater and sat through and entire feature film? You'd have to. After all, there is no possible way to go to a movie, purchase a ticket with your credit card, buy popcorn and a soda (a consistent tradition in my moviegoing endeavors) and sit in the chair with your feet stuck to the floor, without KNOWING that you ACTUALLY went to the movie.

The evidence was there in my hand. The ticket bearing the movie's title. The time, the date, the rate I'd apparently paid for the opportunity to witness the feature length film. It was maddening!

Could it have been that I ACTUALLY DID go to that movie and just don't remember?!?!? How is that possible? Am I the victim of some jungle disease that rots your brain and makes you forget such things as purchasing movie tickets for movies that you then later attended? Is this some type of governmetal conspiracy, the likes of the ones I'd seen in movies that I actually recall attending?

The movie. The title. That sounds like a really stupid movie. I saw the trailer. It looked totally lame. There were singing ducks. I hate singing ducks. I'm pretty sure that there are no singing ducks in reality and therefore have no desire to see such computer generated fabrications. There is no way that I would waste eight bucks for that movie, or six during a matinee. It wasn't a matinee, so I actually would have wasted the eight! Madness, I say!

I sat. I pondered. I sweat. I had a snack. It was pretty good.

So, here I sit. I ponder. I sweat. I've gotta fix the air conditioning. The snack is gone. It was pretty good. Maybe, I'll never know. Perhaps, I'll never know.

Hey. Dude...this isn't my shirt...

--> Read more...

Don LaRankle, dog bite enthusiast...

Hi, I’m Don LaRankle, dog bite enthusiast. I’ve been bitten by more than 200 dog breeds, more than 2000 times. Chances are, if you have a dog and live in the greater Scranton area, I’ve been bitten by your dog.

It all started when I was but a young boy, riding my bicycle on my paper route. The neighbors, the Johnsons, had a large Alaskan Malamute. It was very distempered and acted as such. Every time I rode my bike past the Johnsons’ house, the large Malamute would come out and chase after me. Luckily, I only got bit a few times, as we lived in Arizona where it was very hot and the dog would pant so much he’d have to stop.

Though only being bit a few times, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to collect bites from every kind of dog ever invented. So far, I have amassed quite a collection. Even though I am banned from most SPCA clinics and Dog shows, I am hopeful that I will achieve my goal by the time I’m 40.

Most people ask what I’m going to do with a collection of dog bites. To them I say that I am going to write my memoirs, “Dog bit.” It will have a pop-up section where you can feel the actual scars left from each attack.

My current job search includes collecting dog bites (of course) and volunteering at Police Departments who can’t afford bite sleeves for their K-9 programs.

My current dog-bite goals include, the Sharpe, the Doberman Pincer (ouch), the Schnauzer, the Nova Scotia Duck Trolling Retriever (very rare), and a Golden Retriever. That last one is a real shocker. You’d think that you could find ONE Golden Retriever in the greater Scranton area. YOU’D THINK!!!

So, my quest continues. If you have any of the above listed dog breeds, I’d love to hear from you. I pay all doctor bills or any veterinary bills that come from any of the occasional cross species diseases that migrate one way or the other (it was rumored that I was responsible for the Shih Tzu flu of '87 but that was never any conclusive proof on that one). I have all my shots, and am a Gold Member at the Scranton Community Hospital.

Thank you for your consideration.

Don LaRankle

President – Don LaRankle’s Dog Bite Collections, Inc.

--> Read more...

The little train that couldn't...

There once was a little train named Train.  This was not a very original name, but it was both functional and descriptive.  His parents were very efficient railroad equipment.  That is, at least his mother the coal car.  Train's father was a graffiti'd boxcar who had a wild streak.  He went wherever the tracks took him.  

Train was a bright young train with shiny red paint, and a beautiful little brass bell on top.  "DING, DING!" it would ding.  "TOOT TOOT!" little Train would toot with glee when he heard the "DING, DING."  Unfortunately, this became somewhat of a cyclical OCD kind of thing that really got on the nerves of the other rail road equipment.  The "DINGS" prompting the "TOOTs", which in turn caused more dinging.  Terrible.  

Despite this, little Train the train had work to do.  "I am going to go over Danger Mountain today" said Train.  "I have a large load of corrugated cardboard which MUST get to Happyville TODAY!!!"  This was not actually the truth, as Happyville had a current glut of cardboard.  Train did not hear the conductor say that though as he was "DINGING" and "TOOTING" quite a bit at the time.  

Train backed up to the box cars filled to the brim with cardboard items of every type.   "Ouch" yelled Boxcar Jamal.  "Watch where you're going."  "Sorry, Boxcar Jamal" said Train.  "I am just so very anxious to get this load of corrugated cardboard to Happyville!"  "Whatever" said Boxcar Jamal.  

And with that, Train was off, with Boxcar Jamal in tow.  "Chugga, chugga.  Chugga, chugga. Chugga chugga.  TOOT TOOT!"  whistled Train.  "DING DING.  DING DING" went his bell. Little Train TOOTED again with glee.  "TOOT!"

In no time, the little Train found himself at the base of "Danger Mountain."  "Are you kidding me?" querried Boxcar Jamal.  "There's no way that you're going to make it over that mountain. Look at it.  It's like huge and dangerous and whatnot.  I'm looking at my Zagats guide to dangerous mountains, and this one ranks number four!"  

Train's confidence began to falter.  "I know that I can do this...at least I think I can." he thought. "No, you'll never make it.  You'll slip off the dangerous curves, which were for some reason made with a negative camber, thus making it more likely for a train to slip off and plumet to it's doom!" he worried.  "NO!" thought Train in a determined fashion.  "I AM going to conquer THIS MOUNTAIN!  I AM!  THERE"S NO WAY THIS MOUNTAIN WILL DEFEAT ME!!!"

Just at that moment, a giant boulder broke loose and fell down the side of Danger Mountain. The huge boulder came crashing down and crushed Boxcar Jamal.  "AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" said Jamal.  

And with that, the little Train thought better of it, turned around and went home.  

The end.  

--> Read more...

The lazy perfectionist...

I am a lazy perfectionist.  This means that I want everything done exactly right, but don't have the gumption to actually getting around to getting it done.  This causes me to have alot of inner turmoil and angst.

  

I recently invented a really cool game.  It took me like a couple of months to actually get around to making the rules and stuff, but it's finally done.  It's going to be a sensation and will probably sweep the globe in like a week or something.  It's called "Lazy eights."  It's pretty sweet.  The way you play is that each player gets eight cards, then takes a nap.  

The end.  

--> Read more...

The origin of speeces...Tuna fish

In continuing with our earlier tales, the following is an excerpt from Alvin Darwin's book, "The origin of speeces."  As stated previously, Alvin Darwin was Charles Darwin's less intelligent brother who wrote a rip-off series of books.  The series included, the original, "The origin of speeces", the second, "Stuff you didn't know about stuff", and the third and largely acclaimed book, "Which animals are involved in the plan to take over the world."  This last book was taken from Alvin's misreading of, "Animal farm."

The following is an excerpt from the section titled, "Tuna fish."  Tuna fish are one of the most incredibly odd and useful off all animals in the animal kingdom.  It is a rare sight to see the lure and capture of these oceanic wonders.  A distant relative of the chicken family, the tuna is a long cylindrical fish which is easily duped into capture.  The common method of capture is to hold some candy at the end of a long metal cylindrical tube, into which the tuna will swim. Once the fish has wedged himself into the tube, the fish person (also known as the fish man, and the fish catching guy) chops the head and tail off.  This is a bloody sight and once caused the author to toss his cookies.  Oreo's to be exact.  

The metal tube is then sawed into smaller tins, the ends of which are capped, then sold at local markets.  A modern technique is to lure the tuna fish into a small foil package.  Once the fish is sealed into the foil package, the fish person mashes the foil package with a mallet.  These foil packages are sold with smaller packages of mayonaise and relish, with crackers.  Delicious.

It is unknown why the tuna fish developed into such a utilitarian creature, but many sandwiches and casseroles have convinced me to just be greatful for the bountiful harvest, which is the tuna fish.   The chicken from the sea.  

Alvin's brilliant findings inspire one to great thoughts, even today.  Let's eat.  

--> Read more...

Captain Magnum...

In a major metropolis, there lived a hero. Not just any hero, but a pretty good hero. His name? Captain Magnum. Captain Magnum had magnificent mental mind powers the likes the world had never seen (except once in a movie about mind powers, but that was totally made up). Captain Magnum scoured the back alleys and boroughs for crime. Not just any crime, but really bad crime. Criminal crime. Really bad criminal crime.

Captain Magnum's secret identity was that of Bruce Mingo, lowly account temp from Nowheresville Kentucky. Yeah, you heard it. Kentucky. I didn't even know that place still existed.

Unfortunately for the fair citizens of this metropolis, Captain Magnum was really just Bruce Mingo. You see, Mr. Mingo contracted a rare brain inflamation disease while on vacation in the Bahamas. He'd won the trip on a radio contest. If he wasn't so crazy, he would have wished he would have changed the channel that fateful day.

Bruce Mingo only thought that he was Captain Magnum. Bruce Mingo was after all crazy. I mean, really crazy. Like the kind of crazy that should be locked away in some scary looking castle, slash, mental instution where freaky brain experiments are conducted on his...um...brain.

In the wee hours of the morning, between midnight and like around four thirty, Bruce (a.k.a. Captain Magnum) would wander through the alleyways fighting what he perceived as criminal activity. Really bad criminal activity. The thing is, is that the activity was just like regular everyday activity. Things like picking up the paper, and walking the dog and stuff like that.

Bruce Mingo would lurk in the shadows and when he saw such activity, he would jump out and use his mind powers to defeat the "criminals." This usually consisted of placing his index and middle fingers on his temples and squinting profusely at his intended victims. In Bruce's mind, he was forming and shooting a mind ray into his opponent's mind, causing an immediate explosion of millions of synapses (synapsis? sinapseese? I'm not really sure). In reality, he was just kind of annoying people. Once he did manage to cause a severe, but not lethal case of irritatation in a mail delivery person.

There is no end to this story. Bruce Mingo (a.k.a. Captain Magnum) still wanders the streets of the metropolis. Perhaps he's keeping the streets of your town safe from all the as-of-yet-unannoyed paper picker uppers, and dog walkers, and mail delivery persons. Perhaps you'll see him some early morning and know to not only fear, but respect...Captain Magnum.

The end...or is it?

--> Read more...

Wayne the excessively hygenic toilet plunger...

Once there was a little toilet plunger named Wayne. Wayne liked everything neat and tidy. Wayne was known in school for his exquisitely clean desk and he always had neat handwriting. Wayne did not like messes or clutter in any shape or form. Wayne washed his hands seventeen times a day. This was somewhat extreme but he was after all, excessively hygenic.

On the day of graduation, Wayne was excited to find out what his new career was going to be. "Perhaps I'll be a NASA rocket engineer" he thought. "Or maybe, just maybe...I'll even work for...Mr. Clean." Mr. Clean is after all the most famous of all cleaning personnel and the idol of every excessively hygenic person, or in this case a small toilet plunger.

Wayne reported to his first day of work. "Plu...m...ber" He read. "I wonder what sort of exciting job that is?" he thought. He entered the big room and looked around wide eyed. There in front of him were several other tools, about whose exciting jobs he could only speculate.

Wayne read over his job description, which came as quite a shock. "You...want me to...what?" He asked in disbelief. "There's no way...aaaaaugh!" With a sweeping motion, the large plumber picked Wayne up and began to plunge a nearby toilet. "Bubble, bubble, bubble...AAAAAHHH, STOP...bubble, bubble, bubble...THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!" Wayne screamed as he gasped for breath. "Bubble, bubble, bubble...GERMS EVERYWHERE! ...bubble, bubble...FOR THE LOVE OF! ...bubble, bubble, bubble...WHY IN THE NAME OF! ...bubble, gasp...I THINK I'M GOING TO! ..."

And so it went. The plunging, the unclogging...THE HORROR! Little Wayne never had a chance. He eventually passed out and never regained consciousness. Seeing Wayne's expiration, the plunger smiled a wicked smile and placed him on the rack marked, "FOR SALE".

So next time you walk down the plunger aisle at your local hardware store, pour a little Drain-o out on the curb in remembrance of little Wayne.

The end.

--> Read more...

Bacon...

There are several forces in the universe which move both man and mountain. The first and foremost is love. Love can make a grown man cry. The second of course, is bacon. Bacon. Just say the word and powerful emotions surge forth. Love and bacon. The two are almost too powerful to use in the same sentence. Bacon and love. Only slightly less powerful than saying it the other way around. Love with bacon. What are you talking about. What's wrong with you people. Bacon with love. A nice gift to someone who is really lucky. Luckier than me, as I currently have no bacon. So therefore, I am left with love. Love for bacon. Love of bacon. Man, I'd really love some bacon right now.

Bacon.

--> Read more...

The origin of specees...cows.

It is a little known fact that the Darwin family produced many talented and scientifically minded children. Floyd Darwin specialized in the study of avian depression. Devin Darwin was well noted for his research into the dating habits of the Polish stink beetle. The least of these brothers was Alvin. Alvin Darwin was a somewhat dull and unoriginal person and had a difficult time finding his niche in life.

Following his brother Charles' success, Alvin decided to write his own book. It was called, "The origin of specees." Alvin was not very good at spelling, which ironically kept him out of a copyright lawsuit with his brother. Alvin did not know the correct designations of the animal kingdom, so he catagorized his findings into the more pedantic vernacular. Chapters which should have been titled, "Lacertilia Amphibisbaenia" were simply labeled, "lizards and stuff." This unfortunately caused an entire branch of science to be born, that is recognized as legitimate in a few third world countries and some boroughs in Pennsylvania.

The following is a post from Alvin Darwin's "The origin of specees", entitled, "Cows." Cows are an oft misunderstood creature. Cows are basically slower and somewhat less attractive horses. If horses had dances, then cows would be the ones sitting on the side, wondering why their mother made them come to the event. After all, she was married at twelve and dancing was not allowed by her particular form of Baptist faith.

Cows were originally from the Antarctic. Cows were well known fisherman who migrated with the penguins. Cows and penguins lived in relative peace and harmony until the great penguin uprising in the third century. This was a bloody revolution wherein several cows were visciously nibbled until severely chaffed. There was no actual blood loss, but it made the previous sentence sound much more exciting.

Cows developed a blowhole and swam to north america. These cows were called "Whale cows" and will be discussed in a later chapter. Once upon firm American land, these "Whale cows" shed their now useless blowholes, trading them in for more fashionable "nose holes." There is a small group of "Whale cows" called Manitees that now inhabit the upper Manitoba region and it's surrounding lakes.

Cows are not to be trusted as they are manipulative card players and frequently tell fibs about their "whereabouts" on particular dates and times. Cows do give some nice milk, but some suspect that this is only part of a more diabolical scheme to gain world domination.

As you can see, Alvin was right on so many levels. Stay tuned for more of Alvin Darwin's "Origin of Specees".

--> Read more...

Gene the overconfident fork...

Once there was a fork.  This fork's name was Gene.  Gene was an overconfident little fork.  Gene had a Machavllian complex and therefore had no concept of his limitations.  Gene did not know that forks are generally only useful for picking up bits of food and the occasional accidental poking of an eye or two.  Additionally, Gene had delusions of taking over the world.  

Gene said to himself one day, "I am going to take over the world."  Gene schemed of how successful his world taking-over campaign would be.  "My campaign will be extremely successful!" he thought.  

Gene had never actually left the small plastic silverware drawer organizer, but this did not phase him, as he suffered from an overly exagerated sense of self.  

The day arrived and Gene set off to conquer the world.  It was then that Gene realized that he had no legs or any other form of self propulsion.  "Dang" thought Gene.

The end.  

--> Read more...

Officer five-head and the tractor of terror...

The Officer sat waiting…Waiting for a nemesis so abominable that it is difficult to describe. He sucked the crème out of a glazed doughnut, French roast gripped tightly in his hand. Name plaque pinned firmly to his somewhat wrinkled uniform. “Darrin” was written in cold black letters, letters reflecting the blackness of his heart. “This might just be the day”, he thought, ”The day my vengeance will be exacted…with extreme prejudice. “ He’d heard that once on a movie.

Flash back 30 years. Little Darrin sits quietly on the floorboards of his father’s ‘63 Nash Rambler, toy tractors and other pretend implements of husbandry clutched in his tiny little hands. Dreams of one day being a farmer swarmed through his head as the sedan swept down the highway. Suddenly, the vehicle screeched to an extremely slow pace. “Dag-nabbit”, yelled Darrin Junior’s father. “I strongly despise these blasted Almond shakers! They are always slowing traffic to a completely unreasonable speed! I’d even imagine that they would not be able to hear or yield to emergency vehicles, such as Police cruisers!” Little Darrin climbed on the seat and peered over the dash of the old Nash. That rhymes.

There in front of his father’s vehicle was a dilapidated almond shaker driving at approximately 10 miles per hour. It lumbered on, mile after mile. Little Darrin’s father’s rage reached a fevered pitch as they were delayed by the shaker for at least fifteen minutes. “That’s it! I hate all farmers and friends of people who are farmers. I even hate people who have one type of job and just wish that they were farmers!!! No son of mine will be associated with such ilk! Little Darrin, you will never be a farmer!!!...never be a farmer…never be a farmer…”

Flash forward to the modern day. Little Darrin grew to a man. Not any ordinary man, but a driven man, a man with a vengeance hidden deep within his dark heart. A vengeance shaped in the form of a dilapidated almond shaker. A vengeance hidden behind the badge pinned over his tractor-vengeance shaped heart. The badge meant something. It meant he could get revenge. Revenge on that old almond shaker that crushed his dreams of one day becoming a person who raises and provides nuts, such as almonds and walnuts, and pistachios, etc. Officer Darrin really likes nuts.

The day he had his badge pinned on his crisp new uniform was one of the darkest of his life. All of his friends were graduating farm school and receiving their barn door keys. His friends were enjoying their chickens and windmills. Officer Darrin would never know such joy. So still he waits, ever waiting. 20 years had passed, still waiting.

Officer Darrin watched the street. Could this be the street? Could this be the day? Suddenly, without warning, a tattered baseball cap crested the hill. The vehicle continued cresting the hill, revealing that the hat was being worn by a farmer. A dirty farmer. “Dirty farmers”, he thought. Then, Officer Darrin’s heart leapt as the vehicle emerged…it was…it was…an almond shaker! Not just any almond shaker, but the almond shaker. Approximately 100 cars crawled along behind the almond shaker, paralyzed and completely unable to pass. The farmer sneered as he wickedly laughed toward the heavens.

Officer Darrin’s hands sweat as they clutched the steering wheel. The powerful engine roared from within as he prepared for his attack. Somewhere in the distance, a coyote howled.
The almond shaker passed and Officer Darrin quickly pulled in behind. He activated the overhead rollers and sounded his siren. No response. “It’s almost as if his enormous diesel engine is drowning out my siren.” Officer Darrin pulled up next to the battered implement of husbandry. “I’ll show you what’s shakin’…shaker.” He rammed the side of the shaker, but with little effect. The farmer laughed derisively and shook his fist. “You’ll never catch me Amigo! “ Officer Darrin winced, “Oh, no you didn’t.” Officer Darrin wedged the accelerator with his baton and slid to the passenger’s side seat.

Officer Darrin jumped onto the throbbing machine. The farmer yelled, “Aye Chihuahua! Es la Policia con una cinco cabeza!” The farmer recovered quickly and threw a round house kick at Officer Darrin’s head. Officer Darrin dodged the kick easily. “I took Tae kwon do for three summers at the YMCA. You’ll have to do better than that!” The farmer did better than that, throwing a handful of almonds in Officer Darrin’s eyes. “Aughhhhh!” The Omega three fatty acids burned his eyes as he reached for his plastic bottle of water, tucked safely in his bellow’s pocket. “Thank goodness we defeated the city council regarding their attempted ban on these babies” he thought as he poured the life saving environmentally unfriendly water into his chapped eyes.

“That’s it, hombre. You’ve slowed traffic for the last time!” The farmer held up a Mexican consulate identification card. He smiled and hissed, ”Diplomatic immunity.” Officer Darrin’s eyes widened, then closed to narrow angry black slits. “It’s just been revoked.”
Officer Darrin kicked the emergency break, sending the farmer careening over the steering wheel. The farmer clutched the front grill, slowly sliding into the clamps of the almond shaker. Officer Darrin rested his hand on the lever and pressed down. “Adios muchacho”. The shakers activated and shook the farmer roughly. “N-n-n-n-n-o-o-o-o-o-o- meg-g-g-g-g-gusta!”, was all the farmer could say before he slipped into oblivion.

Officer Darrin jumped down off of the cursed machine. He brushed off his uniform and unpinned his badge. He dropped the badge on the tattered form of the evil farmer. “Delay that…chump.”
Officer Darrin walked off into the sunset, leaving his old life behind. Thousands of women lined the street and wept as their dreams of marrying a real man evaporated with every step.
No one ever heard of Officer Darrin again. Some say he went to the mountains and became a sage. Others say that he went to Paradise, California and taught Pilates to the elderly. No one knows for sure. What we do know, is that the streets of our fair town are a safer place. Safer because of the man called “Officer Darrin”.

--> Read more...

A short fairytale

Once in a small fairy glade, there lived a beautiful white unicorn named Jasper. Jasper was a happy unicorn who loved to watch the fairies paint the trees, flowers and grasses all the colors of the seasons. Jasper's best friend was Lentil. Lentil was a gnome. Not only was Lentil a gnome, but he was a very special gnome who had a very special job. Lentil was a nose gnome. Lentil loved to climb into Jasper's nose and find special golden berries. Jasper always had lots of special golden nose berries and they lived happily ever after.

The end.

--> Read more...

Alternative Kung Fu...

Once in the early Chinese 14th Dynasty, there lived a small boy called Quang Quang. Quang Quang was master of every style of Kung Fu ever created. Crane? Simple. Crouching Tiger? A joke. Somewhat inebriated monkey fist? Childs play.

One day, Quang Quang faced his most deadliest foe ever to date...Shi Ho. Shi Ho was a dangerous and venerble opponent. All who knew of Shi Ho's prowess on the field of battle, shuddered at the thought of ever having to face him. Shi Ho swept down entire legions of battle hardened Kung Fu masters. With his weeping eye technique, Shi Ho had no equal.

Legend spread across the land until one day it landed on the ears of Quang Quang. Quang Quang scoffed at the thought that anyone could beat his unbeatable style. Rumor of Quang Quang's scoff crossed back across the land until it seeped into Shi Ho's awareness. Shi Ho rolled his eyes at Quang Quang's scoff. Stories of Shi Ho's eye rolling migrated back across the land until it came to Quang Quang's awareness that Shi Ho had in fact rolled his eyes to Quang Quang's scoffing. This sort of thing went back and forth for some time, and due to the lack of space we will skip to the good stuff.

Eventually, Shi Ho and Quang Quang issued each other challenges. Unfortunately they were lost in the disorganized postal service of the day. Tiring of waiting, they issued another mutual challenge which this time got to their intended targets.

Time droned onward as the day of battle approached. Finally it stopped droning. It stopped because the day had arrived, which is a pretty good reason for stopping.

Shi Ho stood silhouetted against the dimming Chinese sun. Quang Quang stood akimbo in defiance. Quang Quang was secretly jealous that Shi Ho got the better backdrop for his Kung Fu stance. The local villagers gathered in awe of the resplendent warriors.

Shi Ho called out loudly, "I hear you scoff at my LEGEND!" Quang Quang scoffed, "I hear you rolled your eyes at my SCOFFING!" This too went on for entirely too long. The villagers began to tire.

In time, Shi Ho challenged, "My legend is like a magnatude 6.5 on the Richter scale of Kung Fu!" Quang Quang said, "Not even!" This was not a particularly witty come back, but he was nervous and it was all that would come to his mind. Shi Ho countered, "Well, with that, we must FIGHT!"
Shi Ho launched his weeping eye technique. Shi Ho was little prepared for Quang Quang's new and improved Steel Armpit of Fury technique. Quang Quang locked his arm against his side like a steel trap. Shi Ho bounced off in a dribbling retreat. Shi Ho again attacked, only to be locked in a steely headlock the likes he'd never before encountered. Quang Quang squeezed and squeezed until Shi Ho's eye's bulged. "I...I...I surrender!" Shi Ho gasped.

The villagers cheered as they rushed forth to lift Quang Quang onto their shoulders. A bright new day had dawned for the villagers (despite the fact that it was by now well into the night), as they rested assured that they would be safe under the protection of Quang Quang and his Steel Armpits of Fury.

The end.

--> Read more...

Terrence and the exotic fruit...

Once there was an average boy. This boy's name was Terrence. This is not the sort of name that gets you to the top of the social heap in schools of any grade. This is not the sort of name that rockets you to the top of the business world. Terrence was familiar with the former and soon would become quite aware of the latter. That is not what this story is about. Stop thinking about it.

Terrence, as stated previously was an average boy, with the average amount of friends, and as you might have guessed, the average amount of enemies. Do you remember the name of yours? I do.

Terrence also remembered the name of his enemy. Donald Rider. This may not sound like the name of a greatly feared enemy, but if you are an average boy named Terrence, it holds a significant amount of dread.

Terrence particularly dreaded lunch time. This was the time where most average children examined the contents of their lunches and planned for mergers and trade agreements with other average children. Children such as Charlie Dwyer had trade embargos placed on them due to his mother's tendency to place beet salads and other organic items in his lunch. No respectable youth would be caught dead trading a perfectly good Ho-Ho for some sprouts. Yuck.

Terrence appreciated the usual trade, but the other average children had begun to shy away from him. The reason for this was that Donald Rider took a liking to taking Terrence's lunch during lunchtime. There was always the possibility that one would become one of Donald Rider's victims by the inadvertent association with Terrence. This was simply unacceptable.

Terrence had exactly twenty seven lunches taken from him by Donald Rider this year alone. Terrence did not mind so much, but his mother and father were very poor and worked very hard to provide him a lunch. Terrence's father always told him, "Son, always stand up for what is right and true. The sun and rain shines and falls on every man. You are just as good as any other. Terrence thought about this one day as he was thinking about the rumblings of his empty stomach.

It was then that an idea began to form. The idea began to take shape. It was the shape of his empty stomach which is sort of a kidney bean shape. It was also kind of pink in color. The idea was devious and wonderful. It was subtle and perfect. It was also guaranteed to work because Donald Rider was the sort of stupid bully that infects every school. Terrence finally had enough. His hunger had hatched a brilliance previously unknown.

On the way home, Terrence stopped by Mr. Granger's produce store. "Do you have any rotten oranges?" Terrence asked. Mr. Granger looked quizzically at the lad and simply nodded his head in the direction of the back. Terrence quickly found what he was looking for. It was fuzzy. it was smelly. It was the most perfect rotten orange he had ever seen. This was not true of course, as he had once seen a more perfect rotten orance when he was seven and a half at his aunt's house. Terrence did not recall this at the time, so to be fair, we'll let him believe it was in fact the most perfect rotten orange he had ever seen in his life. Terrence picked the rotten orange gingerly in a brown sack and carried it home.

The following day, Terrence looked on as the clock clicked slowly by. The time finally came and he bolted to the door. Finding his usual seat in the cafeteria, Terrence laid out his lunch in a neat fashion. Terrence sensed Donald Rider enter the room. He could feel his bully evil emenating as he came closer and closer. "Alright, dink." Donald Rider said, "What'chya got for me today?"

Terrence did his best to avoid eye contact with Donald Rider. It's always best to avoid eye contact. Donald Rider picked up the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and stuffed it in his mouth. Donald Rider took a long drink of Terrence's chocolate milk (this was strategically selected by Terrence for reasons you will soon understand).

Donald Rider's eye's shifted over the remainder of the lunch and his eyes caught on the rotten orange. "What's this" Donald Rider said, "A rotten orange?" "Haven't you ever seen a jaus-teece fruit before?" Terrence replied. "A what" "A jaus-teece fruit. It's from Madagaspar in Tarzan-nista." Terrence said quite calmly. "EVERYONE knows that" he continued with a snide look.

Donald Rider looked confusedly at Terrence, then back at the fruit. Donald Rider was quite unable to grasp what was happening. His prey was not responding as usual. He could sense something was wrong but did not have the capacity to figure out what. "It just looks like a rotten orange." "Whatever." Said Terrence, "If you don't know what a Jaus-teece fruit is, then that is your problem." "I know what it is, stink-plug" Donald Rider replied defiantly, "I've eaten like a thousand of these things. I eat them all the time." "No you haven't. You never have and you're too scared to eat one now." Terrence responded with narrowing eyes.

Now to those unversed in the world of "Bully / Victim" interaction, such resistance from the prey is completely unacceptable and will frequently be dealt with by wedgies, twirlies, or some other act to regain dominance. As previously noted, Donald Rider would have no such thing and needed to place this imp back in his place of subserviance.

"I'll show you." Donald Rider said and proceeded to choke down the entire rotten orange. Terrence calmly looked at Donald Rider. Donald Rider's look of satisfaction lasted for exactly 7.5 seconds. The look slowly shifted from satisfaction, to a distant far off look, to confusion, to worry, to uneasy surprise, and was quickly followed by vomit ("Huwaaaaaaugh!).

Vomit in and of itself is quite an unpleasant topic, but can in fact be made more unpleasant. The specific way in which this particular case of vomit was made worse was held in the fact that at this moment, Mrs. Lando the P.E. teacher was walking by with a full platter of beef stroganoff. That was not the bad part. The bad part was that Donald Rider vomited on Mrs. Lando's shoes and lower legs ("Huwaaaaaaaugh!). Mrs. Lando responded in kind and barfed on Donald Rider's head ("Huwaaaaaaaugh!). Children seeing the comotion througout the cafeteria began to exercise their rights to foodular expulsion in a flurry of foodular expulsing.

Mr. Dwyer (No relation to Charlie Dwyer the kid with the trade embargo, but in fact the Mr. Dwyer who was the school's janitor) looked on at the growing mess and wondered quite silently to himself why he had not followed his dream of being an ice dancer. Ice dancers never had to deal with this sort of thing.

Terrence on the other hand, though speckled with bits of jaus-teese (Justice) fruit and chocolate milk, looked on with a glow of personal satisfaction, knowing that a new day had dawned and a significant page had turned in his life.

The End.

--> Read more...

The world's greatest super hero...

Phil. That's what they call me. That is of course those who live in the real world...those who don't know the real me...or the life I lead. I am a super hero. I save lives.

There's another group of people. People who take things from others, hit them and stuff, and do other crime things. Criminals. They know me by a name too. Phil. My super hero name is also Phil, so as to not confuse things. I've got alot on my plate.

Super hero's such as myself have quite alot of things to deal with as you might imagine. Crime. Other super hero's trying to slip in on your turf. Accessorizing. Yeah, you heard right. Accessorizing. You might have totally kung-fu skills, but if you show up with your cape not matching your unitard...super headache. Whiffle girl still hasn't stopped teasing me about that one. She's one to talk. Making whiffling sounds isn't much of a super power.

Not like mine that is. My power? I knew you'd ask. My super power is dodging. I can totally dodge like, six or seven things. Perhaps you want to throw some scissors, or candy, or tennis balls at me? Childs play.

Captain Evilbad once threw like five bowling balls at me. Totally dodged them.

I was fairly impressed that he was able to even pick up five bowling balls. I tried it later and it wasn't as easy as it looked.

Anyway, here I watch. Waiting for the opportunity to dodge some criminals straight into jail. That's not very easy, but it's kind of like a three rights making a left thing. They run at me and I dodge a whole bunch of times, so that the last time they run at me, I dodge and they run right into the jail cell. Sweet.

You'd think that the criminals would just stop running at me after a while. Two things help me in this regard. One, the criminal mind is dumb. The second, is that I am pretty good at taunting them into chasing me. One of my favorites is, "Hey, you're a really bad criminal and I am currently dating your sister and making her hold the door for me." It drives them insane. It's like catnip, but for criminals...and without the cats.

The cops didn't like it all that much before I earned super hero status. I didn't have a key to the department and the next day there'd be like a stack of twenty or so criminals stacked up in front of the front door. They were like little birds that didn't see the glass.

So next time you think of committing crime, remember, Phil's watching you. Phil's always watching.

--> Read more...