Wait, Madam! There is comedy in your purse

Spread the word! Rich wears women's underwear (No, not THAT word!) What I meant was, spread the word that this BLOG makes polio string cheese come out all of your orafices. And if it doesn't, lie to your friends and say it does. Rich is tired of sucking scrotum to get ahead, and he wants a real job, one that pays. So come on in! I have Hot Pockets in the fridge

Thursday, June 08, 2006

If Charles Was in Charge of Me, Technically, I would be Living in a Dictatorship

I’m not going to fib; Scott Baio seems like a pretty cool guy to have as a political leader. He has cool hair, I think he’s dated a few buxom super models, and overall, I don’t know if I’d mind having Charles in Charge of me.

But I’m thinking of the bigger picture here, people, the bigger picture.

I mean, do we really think Charles would be so cool after awhile when he starts to feel his power corrupt him absolutely?

I can already see it now: a 40 foot tall, 20 ton Scott Baio robot stomping through our avenues and telling us it’s time to go to bed at 8:00 PM because he has a date coming over and doesn’t want anybody to interfere with him scoring.

Can I live like that? Well, sure, I can, but I’m not thinking about me, I'm thinking about you, the little people, the dwarves.

Like most children of the 80’s, I could care less if Mr. Baio’s iron fist squeezes the nation dry of its resources and squanders all the coolness left in this world. If Scott Baio wants it, then dammit, I say let him have it.

But I’m looking out for my brother, a 90’s baby, and other such 90’s babies who didn’t grow up with the twinkle in the eye, sparkle in the teeth deity that is the Scott, but rather grew up with Mark-Paul Gosselaar and the Saved By the Bell gang (and we all know that THEY wouldn’t be fit to rule, I mean, have you seen their careers after that show? Jesse was the star of Showgirls for Vishnu’s sake.)

So I tell you all, my brothers, sisters, and Yu Gi Oh fans, rise up against Scott Baio and don’t let him be in charge of you. Like the green mulleted, eco champion, Captain Planet says: “The power is yours!” And I can only hope desperately that you actually believe that.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

I’m wanted in every state except this one

I’ll tell you, man, when you punch out the Pope’s wife, bad things happen to you, man, bad things. Not only is the law on my chipmunk tail, but also Jesus’ entourage as well, and I gotta tell ya, it has not been a pleasant seven days riding in my white Bronco across the interstate.

For one thing, I am running out of Cheetos in my change compartment and on my floor. I mean, being on the lamb is great and all, but when you run out of food, it’s game over, man, game over.

For second thing, I have not been able to have a good piss in a long time. It’s always right out the side window, or in my Converse All Stars, or on my hands, but never in a urinal (or porta potty) as it should be.

I feel like less a man.

But if I can make it to the lawless state of New Jersey, I just know I’ll be safe. There, the sheriff will cower behind the shadows of the state’s great gun slinging heroes. And then the cameramen, the law, and even Jesus’ ninjas will have to face the wrath of the Garden State! Mwa ha ha ha!

Jersey will protect me.

And, oh yeah. This last message is to the Pope.

If I could, I’d punch your wife in the monkey face again! Booyah! I have no shame! NO SHAME!